Teeth and Lies

I read somewhere in a baby book that babies do not experience any discomfort while teething. If the baby happens to be fussy while teeth are coming in, the parent is just finding something to blame instead of admitting that their child just an unhappy baby in general.

Up until two weeks ago, I half believed the author of this book.

Now I think he is an outright, bold-faced lier.

After a week of being abnormally fussy and whiny, and last week's crying/whining/demanding fest, we awoke yesterday morning to the happiest, most cheerful little girl around. In complete disbelief of her newly found optimism, I pried open her gums to take a peek. Sure enough, that stubborn top front tooth FINALLY broke its way through her gum. Now pain and discomfort free, Alexandria is back to her normal, happy and overly active self!

Oh...

Did I mention that this is only her THIRD tooth?

yeah.

Only 17 more to go...

On the bright side, now that Chicago has skipped spring and moved straight into summer (we just jumped from the 50s to the 80s in two days), juice Popsicles will be in high demand!

Mud, Anyone?

You know you're not a paranoid Mom when you look over at your daughter playing in the grass and see thick, black globs of mud oozing out of her mouth and, instead of screaming due to your lack of attention, end up doubled over because you're laughing so hard at the hilarity of the situation.

Meanwhile, my whimpering Lexi is standing there, black mud filled mouth wide open, spitting and trying unsuccessfully to scrape the mud off her tongue and out of her mouth with her uncoordinated fingers. When my laughing eased so I could breathe again, I did go to her rescue and used my handy dandy "finger hook swipe" to get the majority of the mud out (and there was a lot) and then cleaned off her tongue with a baby wipe. Poor Lexi. I would think that mud would taste a whole lot better than a baby wipe, but she didn't seem to complain. She did drink her entire cup of water afterwards though.

I don't think she will be putting dirt clods in her mouth again anytime soon. Now if she could only get the same idea when it comes to the cat food....

Change

My friend said on her blog today (which you can find here) that if were all totally honest with how hard life is sometimes and the emotions that we go through, then we could all encourage each other better. Because let's face it: we live in a broken world. And I am a broken person. And sometimes, life is just hard.

So here it is. With all this talk of moving and life changes and intentional community, deep down, I am scared to death. The funny thing is that I am not really phased by the fact that our vision might bomb and we will be back to square one. I am not even scared about living in the same apartment or house with other people (after all, I grew up in a family of 9, so how hard can it really be?). I know there will be challenges and hard times and misunderstandings and disagreements, but I know that these things can all be worked out and we will all be the better for it. So I can't even say that I am scared by the inevitability of those things.

Sometimes I feel like being a Missionary Kid is more of a curse than a blessing. All the moving and transitions and leaving loved ones behind does something to you. Saying goodbye to someone you love, knowing that you will never see them again, does something to you.

It has caused me to hate moving more than anything in the world. I emotionally withdraw from people when I know I am leaving, since it's easier than saying goodbye. I have few friends, but the friends I do have are closer to me than my own siblings. I struggle with change, transition, and anything that threatens to disrupt my "safe" and predictable life.

So the thought of leaving this home that we have made here in this apartment, with our close friends surrounding us, is breaking my heart. I feel like if we leave, we are going to lose everything, which I can't bear the thought of. But if we stay, will anything change? We have been waiting it out here hoping that someone else would be the one to be the one to move on and naturally disperse the group. Praying that it would not have to be us. Please don't let it be us.

I can't picture our life without our friends here making it complete. God give us wisdom to know what to do.

[Just a note in case anyone out there is wondering what on earth happened to my daughter Lexi, and why I haven't talked about her in so long, I have two words for you: Teething and Tantrums. Apparently, the two work in tandem.]

Stone Soup

As you may have guessed from my previous post, Eric and I are seriously looking into intentional community. (Google it if you have no idea what I am talking about.) So, since Eric and I are on this journey of either joining up with or starting our own intentional community, we decided to go visit an existing community last night with some of our friends (who also happen to be on the same journey as us - at the same time).

We went to the Thursday night potluck at The Stone Soup Cooperative Leland House. You can check out their website here.

At Stone Soup, the folks involved are passionate about social justice issues in Chicago and being involved in the community in some way. The Leland House is a large converted triplex in Uptown Chicago that houses up to 11 people. While they all have their own bedrooms, they do share all common areas as well as nightly meals.

It was interesting to meet everyone last night at the potluck. Just a group of normal people (slightly on the radical side) who want intentional community and social justice. Their community is greatly lacking a love for God, though, which is the main reason why Eric and I aren't so sure that it would be the healthiest option for us to live there at this point in our lives. We are also very passionate about the intentional Christian community aspect of living together, since we would love to grow and love Jesus with the people we live with, and let service together be a direct outflow of that.

Our friends also checked out Reba Place Fellowship (check them out here) which is located just north of Chicago in Evanston. From our friends' perspective, however, the Reba community tends to be more inward focused (building up and serving the church/community) and is lacking in the service to the community/social justice aspect that we are becoming passionate about.

On a side note, back to the potluck, I have found that it is much easier to make friends when I have Lexi in my arms. So maybe I am using her for her huge blue eyes and winning smile, but so what?! It works! :)

What if

What if

several families

with one vision

lived together

under the same roof

as one family

loving God

loving each other

and loving their neighbors as themselves.

What if

they lived intentionally

loved intentionally

served the community intentionally together

loving God as more than a belief system

but as a living breathing Love

that reaches out to people in need

people in need of this Love

the Love that longs to restore the universe

to itself.

What if

there is more to "loving God"

than going to church on Sunday

Women's coffee on Monday

Small group on Tuesday

and being consumed in our individual lives

for the remainder of the week.

I would be a nice person

regardless of whether I believed in God or not.

My life looks no different

than any other "nice" young woman

who likes having good relationships with others.

So if I truly love this God that I claim to serve

why am I not doing anything?

Why does my life not look any different?

If I claim to really be a Christ follower

laying down my life for Christ's sake

than I am a lier.

I am not caring for the widows and the orphans

clothing the least of these

or feeding the hungry.

I have been too comfortable

in my dreams of the future

in my familiar circle of friends

the warmth of my own home

my individual wants

and needs

me

me

Me.

And Jesus is calling my family

out of this comfort

out of complacency

out of our familiar circle of friends

to a live a life that is not lived in vain

in the individual pursuit

of worldly possessions

or gain

or success

or fame

or even comfort.

It is a life of intentional living

intentional community

intentional loving

intentional serving.

Living in a manner worthy of the Gospel of Christ

in response

to that same Gospel

that same Love

that is transforming our hearts

restoring our souls

shaping our lives.

What if

Christianity

is not about our personal comfort

our personal pursuit of God

our personal sins

and personal issues

and personal dreams and visions?

What if

Christianity

is actually meant to be

lived out together

as a collective pursuit of God

a community vision

with a collective outflow

of this Love

into service?

What if Jesus never intended

for us to be so concerned

with our individual faith

and individual struggles

and individual victories

that we lose sight

of who Christ really is

and His heart for the people around us?

What if Jesus wasn't so much concerned

if we read the Bible that morning or not

but was more concerned

that our neighbor is hurting

and is desperate for the Love

that we are so selfishly

hoarding

for ourselves

for our individual emotions

for the feel good high

that we have been taught is appropriate

and right

and Christian.

I think there is more to being a Christ follower.

I think Christ is calling us to a higher standard

to a radical way of life

to a radical way of Love.

And I think if more people

lived in direct response to this calling

our world

would be different.

I don't know all the answers,

but I know that this crazy God

who is this crazy Love

has ignited a fire within me

and within Eric

that won't be put out

until our lives

are radically different...

...until Jesus really is

our Everything.

Morning Thoughts

I suppose I have let my blog become rather boring this month. Part of the reason is because I was out of town for three weeks out of April, and the other part is probably because our lives are so ordinary right now - perhaps even a bit mundane.

After coming home from Nebraska and then Mexico, I have been home. Keeping up with the piles of dishes, sweeping, general home upkeep, and baby-chasing. Lexi and I took a trip to the Laundromat yesterday morning in the midst of a timely spring downpour. I spent the better part of three hours feeding her cheerios one by one (and as spaced out as possible) to try and keep her in her stroller just a little longer while the clothes washed and then dried in the huge swirling machines. She made lots of friends (as usual) and was met by many smiles. It was peaceful. Normal. And just a bit boring. The good kind of boring. The kind of boring where you are doing something to help your family, such as cooking a meal, cleaning the house, and washing the clothes - even though the results of your efforts seem to be so short sighted. Because as soon as the task is accomplished, there is always something else next in line. And the cycle continues.

Eric and I have been doing a lot of talking and planning on how we can be more intentional and purposeful with our lives in relation to God's Kingdom. We have joined forces with another couple who is interested in serving in our community and spent last night brainstorming together about what kinds of things we can do. I feel God's presence in this. Like He has been waiting a long time for us to finally figure this out, and now His excitement is tangible. Pulsing. Causing us to move. Finally.

We have made contact with our local World Relief office about "adopting" a refugee family that is new to Chicago (Albany Park, specifically - our neighborhood) and is in need of a warm welcome. We have also contacted them about having a family picture night at the World Relief Center, where refugee families can come and have their pictures taken for free (by us - might as well use our talents and equipment as long as we have them!).

There are lots of other ideas, and of course, none are set in stone, but it's crazy how this God of ours works. As soon as our eyes and hearts opened to hear and obey His voice, the opportunities to join Him are becoming overwhelming. Exciting even. I have a feeling that as we begin to follow God where He leads us, our lives are going to change dramatically.

Dreams of Rubber

Rainy days are always good times for reflections. For catching up. For starting new.

It is blustery and gray outside, but the branches that are swaying and blowing in the wind have tiny pale green leaves adorning them, which makes today all right. It's days like today that make the flowers bloom more bountifully and the grass grow just a longer...almost there.

After watching my favorite movie, Amelie, a sweet French film about an innocent girl who pursues her dream, I have been reflecting on dreams today. Those little dreams that everyone carries around inside of themselves, but almost never have the courage to tell anyone, or do anything about. On Thursday night, the Mexican gentleman in my painting class at the Park District confided to me in Spanish that ever since he was a little boy, it has been his dream to have a career as a painter on TV, like Bob Ross. This gentleman is now in his late 40's, has 5 children, and is just now, for the first time, in a class to learn to paint. He has never even held a paintbrush before, but still deep down, hopes to be the next Bob Ross (if you aren't acquainted with this fabulous man - or his incredible hair - click here).

[hahaha! Just kidding! For the real Bob Ross, click here.)

Dreams are funny like that. Some can wait for years until you do anything about them, and some begin without you even trying.

I just returned home from Mexico, where I spent 10 days helping to care for my mom and the rest of the family while she is recovering from major surgery. It is always a joy to be with them and get to know my younger sisters again, as they are changing and growing too fast for me to keep up with. One of the things that I love about children and youth is that they are full of dreams. And none of these dreams ever seem to hard, improbable, or unachievable. They are all well within the reach of that simple, carefree phrase, "when I grow up..."

My brother, at 20 years old, has just given up his lifetime, childhood dream of being a doctor. The college biology and chemistry classes were the hard reality that never in existed in his mind as a little boy. Med school and all of its tough demands and rigid lifestyle and college GPA expectations were an completely unknown factor back then. But now, they are what has stopped the dream, and re-routed it to something different. This isn't a bad thing. In fact, I dreamed that I was going to be a nurse saving Aids babies in Africa when I went into college. The actual facts are that I graduated with an Illinois Teachers certification to teach visual art K-12. Not to mention the reality that I was also married and expecting a baby in five months. Africa was definitely no longer in the dream. Instead, it re-routed itself to something different. But something just as beautiful, in it's own way.

Eric and I have a lot of dreams for our family. Some are far off and distant enough to even say that they will happen "when I grow up." Others are tangible enough to pursue right now. And some have already started, without us even realizing it.

Ten years from now, "when we grow up," our lives will most likely look completely different than anything we ever imagined they would. Dreams re-routed and re-shaped around a myriad of unexpected events, pleasant surprises, some hard lessons learned, and the routines of daily life as a family.

After all, if life was as predictable as we would all like it to be, then where would the fun be in that? So keep dreaming. But may your dreams be made of rubber. In other words, flexible. :)