The Plane Crash was on the Other Side of Central Park

You may be wondering if we were close to the plane crash that happened here in the city today...Our apartment is on the other side of Central Park from the site, about a mile north and 2 miles west of it. It's terribly rainy and windy here, and the weather conditions are hampering the recovery and clean up. I wonder how many people were not allowed back in their homes tonight because of it?

An Unfortunate Alliance

What happens when two book lovers meet with a cheap bookcase.

Will it just keep sagging, I wonder? Or will it eventually crack?

It's got all the suspense of Lost. Stay tuned.

Whirlwind Weekend

We were in Michigan ever so briefly this weekend for Steve's ordination and installation. We rented a car, drove through the night on Thursday, spent some beautiful fall hours with our families, were honored and humbled by a beautiful ceremony on Sunday, and arrived back in the city this morning at 6:15.

I'm...

...exhilarated.

And exhausted.

The ordination and installation were moving. The gravity of Steve's vows settled in on both of us, but it was accompanied by a thrilling awareness that we were supported by both the Spirit and the community of believers. At one point, Steve knelt at the front of the sanctuary, and the elders and pastors gathered around him to lay on hands. Steve disappeared from sight, enveloped by people of faith who affirmed and upheld him. It was a fitting picture...a vision of Christian community.

So the whirlwind was welcome. But it's good to be home again.

One more thing. It surprised me how the fall colors in West Michigan were on full display. The trees here have just begun to turn.


My parent's backyard, this weekend



Riverside Park, today

Of Things That Made Us Chuckle

Steve received this customized T-shirt this weekend as an ordination gift. We laugh every time we look at it.

He's out running in it as I write.
I hope he doesn't get beat up.

Good News for Any Tall Man

I think Steve may even have Guy #2's T-shirt.

I Recall Central Park in Fall

Saturday

In Central Park with our new friends Matt and Margaret and their beautiful brood of 4

We took a tour where we learned of Seneca Village, a community that was located in Central Park before it became Central Park

And made toys out of sticks and strings, just like the kids in Seneca Village

And played with a storyteller who did
magical things with imagination and scarves

Sunday

While Steve was learning of leadership, the kids and I wandered down to the boat basin near our apartment

And conducted scientific experiments complete with hypotheses: Would this acorn, crabapple, piece of concrete, etc. float or sink?

And watched sailboats glide by

And played "New York Gift Shop, would you like a t-shirt or a mug?"

And teeter-tottered until my legs couldn't take it anymore

A Few Things

We had our second small group meeting last night. An opera singer and a student from Juilliard (viola player, if you're wondering) joined us. I am so enjoying these nights...Do you know how long it's been since I've been in a bonified, dig-deep, draw-from-the-marrow Bible study? 4 years. 4 years! I've squeezed in a few light-weight studies here and there, but when Steve went back to sem and I started working more evenings and our calendar was scheduled down to the last second, there was no room for one more weekly activity. Now, because of the Redeemer Mom's Group I've joined and our Friday night small group, I'm in 2 great studies. Yum, as my friend Karyl would say.

Next weekend we'll be back in Michigan for Steve's ordination. The plan is to drive through the night so the kids will sleep during the 12 hour drive. We'll see about that. My guess is that the kids will be awake all night, and I will be the one fighting off sleep.

One more thing. An interesting story with some interesting lessons and analogies, which I'll let you draw.

Yesterday morning, Jonathan and I were walking home from the grocery store, my little pull-behind grannie cart overflowing with grocery goodness, when I passed a homeless man digging through the garbage at the curb. I had taken a few steps past him when the thought hit me, "How can you call yourself a follower of Christ and not acknowledge that man?" So I turned back, selected some food from the cart, and set it down carefully and quietly next to this man's personal belongings--a black garbage bag overflowing with what looked like more garbage. I didn't want to make a production out of it all, so I caught his eye, smiled, and started to walk away.

He didn't want the food.

"Ma'am! I don't want that! I'm not hungry right now. I'm sorry. I don't want that, Ma'am."

"You don't have to apologize. Are you sure?"

"Yes ma'am. I don't want that. Don't give it to me."

I picked up my food, put it back in the cart, and went home, thoughts swirling.

Comfort Food

We went to the World's Largest Applebees last night. Any self-respecting native New Yorker who is reading this (who am I kidding?) is groaning now..."With all the great, unique, gourmet, etc., etc., restaurants in the city, why would you choose to eat at a hokey, tourist-driven, unimaginative chain restaurant?" they would ask, with no little amount of distaste.

I'll tell you why. Because yesterday was one of those days when adventure did not appeal.

I wanted a place where I knew there were kids' menus with food that my kids will actually eat. A place where crayons with the menus were a given. A place where the music was loud enough to drown out any crying, giggling, or over-the-top exclamations, and I could be assured that no one would give our family The Look. I wanted a place where quick turnaround was the name of the game and we wouldn't get stuck trying to entertain our kids for an hour while we waited for the food. I wanted a place that was roomy and comfortable and smelled like french fries. Applebees was that place.

I know that we were probably the only people in the whole restaurant (other than the starving artist wait staff) who actually live here, but it was a brief reprieve for our family, a comfort in knowing what to expect. And as a bonus, we could look out the window and see the lights of Broadway. Not a bad combo.

The Delight is in the Details

I do like this city.
Very much.
It's the small, daily experiences that encourage this affection--the details of our lives here. Admittedly, I choose to overlook some of the less appealing details, the rough edges of the city. Still, there are some great things about living here that probably wouldn't show up in the tourist guides. Here are a few that I've found in the last few days:

• Catch the Flava: The business savvy Delicioso Coco Helado vendors that situate themselves on the bus stop corners. Helado is a sorbet-type dessert that is indeed muy tasty. I go for the coconut, while Jonathan prefers mango and Chloe chooses the politically correct rainbow flavor. And it's only a dollar (which, you know, goes a long way in my book).

• Do you Smell Horses?: The Riding Academy up the Street (aka The Barn in the Building). It's quite incongruous, really. The stables are located in a residential area, and you don't even realize that they're there until you get a whiff of something and peer back into the building. Every once in a while you'll see a horse and rider emerge and clop down the street, the cars and buses wheeling by. And if the breeze is just right, I'm reminded of the summer 4H fair in Lowell, which is a welcome memory.

• Stand up, Sit down, Fight, Fight, Fight!: Subway Seating Courtesy. Riding the subway during rush hour can be a bear. Assertiveness is a valuable asset then, when sometimes there is literally not room for one more person on the train. However, when I travel with the kids, people are usually good about making room for them to sit down. Even at the busiest times, they'll give up their seats for them. It's a small thing, but it makes my life easier, and it's refreshing to see the evidence of the good in people.

• Butterfly Lesson: The Man in the Perrenial Garden. A few nights ago we were walking through Riverside Park with the kids when we noticed a man with a butterfly net walking through a perrenial garden area that is maintained by volunteers. When we saw him catch a Monarch, we asked him what he was going to do with it. The kind man showed us how he tags the butterflies with a small sticker here in the city, so that scientists can study migration patterns as the butterflies meander to Mexico for the winter. He held up the butterfly for Chloe to inspect, and then opened his hand with a flourish to release it. We all watched it wing away, our imaginations following it when our eyes no longer could.

You know, you really should come to visit so you can see these things for yourselves. I'd like to show them to you.

Global Community

Steve and I hosted our first small group meeting on Friday night. 3 people came and a handful of others told us they plan on joining us next time. A good start.

As we shared stories with one another, it stuck us anew the potential global impact of a church plant in a city like New York.

A profile of the group:

• A Scottish med student, in town for a few months doing research. He plans on returning to Scotland to practice medicine.
• A Malaysian med student who isn't sure if she's going to practice in the UK or Malaysia.
• A woman who was born in Argentina, moved to California in her teens, and now is searching for a job that could take her anywhere in the world.

It was great to share our differences while appreciating the community we have through Christ.

Steve and I were also reminded of the transient nature of city life and the sustainability challenges that come with that.

Please pray for this group...that we'll continue to build community... that God will use this group for his purposes...that Steve and I will be wise leaders.

Thank You for the Words, Thomas Aquinas.

Give me, O Lord,

A steadfast heart
which no unworthy thought can drag downward,

An unconquered heart which no tribulation can wear out,

An upright heart
that no unworthy purpose may tempt aside.

Bestow upon me also, O Lord, my God,

Understanding to know you,

Diligence to seek you,

Wisdom to find you,

And a faithfulness that may finally embrace you,

Through Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Don't Ask Me

I must be looking more comfortable and confident in the subways and the streets of the city, because people are starting to ask me for directions.

Or maybe I just look non-threatening, relative to some of the other characters around here.

Either way, it's a bad idea. I've never denied that I am directionally challenged. Every time I emerge from the subways the only way I can figure out where I'm going is to orient myself to Central Park.

Last week someone asked me how to get to West Broadway, and I told him that Broadway only runs north and south, so how could there be a West Broadway? Turns out there's an actual separate street called West Broadway, downtown somewhere that I've never been.

At first when people asked me directions, I would say, "I think it's that way," or something similarly vague, and then the poor lost souls would look at me and wonder, Well, do I take her word for it or not? Does she know her head from her tail?

So now, to relieve any indecision, I simply say, "I'm sorry, I don't know." Even if I think I do. Because I probably don't.

Geography Lesson

Remember that scene from Spider Man where the dastardly Green Goblin separates a tram car from its wires and leaves a bunch of kids hanging until Spider Man saves them?

No?

Then perhaps you recall the news features last spring when a tram car was stranded over the East River and the people inside had to be rescued mid-air.

That's the tram that connects the east side of Manhattan to Roosevelt Island, a small stretch of land between Manhattan and Queens.

Jonathan and I took an exploratory tram ride over to Roosevelt Island yesterday. Roosevelt Island is interesting...in the late 1800's and early 1900's it was mainly a site for prisons and insane asylums (leading to the name previous name, "Welfare Island"), but the city's unquenchable thirst for residential housing spilled over to the island, morphing it into a small community of high rise apartment complexes. A single Main Street runs up the middle of the island; there is one school, one post office, one grocery store--NYC's version of Mayberry?

Hmmm...I wonder if Roosevelt Island could use a church?

What in the World?

So, on Saturday, the whole family was walking down the sidewalk, happy as can be, when we heard an unusually loud airplane pass overhead. I happened to glance up and saw this:

A Stealth Bomber? What? My first thought was that it looked like something from the X-files. My second thought was more along the lines of terrorist attacks, etc... Thank God it wasn't that. Turns out they were just doing a fly over at a Yankees game.

Still, it was a little disconcerting. Here's a picture captured by The Gothamist.

Uniformity

Chloe's school uniform arrived yesterday

Adoration

I was honored to write and deliver the prayer of adoration for this morning's worship.

Praise the Lord, O my soul,

All my inmost being, praise his holy name.

For God,

You give us love when we don't even know we need it.

You give us peace when we have nestled in the arms of anxiety.

You give us freedom when we seek only the familiarity of bondage to sin.

We are ignorant and foolish,

We don't know our own selves.

At times we don't even know how to accept the beautiful gifts that you give us.

But in your wisdom and generosity, you give us the things our souls crave.

And you give them to us again and again,

Until we turn our clouded eyes to you and truly see your grace.

Father,

You are faithful in your care,

Constant in your mercy,

Healing our broken lives even as we seek to break them yet again.

Praise the Lord, O my soul,

And forget not all his benefits.

Amen.

I'm It?

My friend Michelle "tagged" me in a game of virtual tag...and the rules are that you are to list 5 unusual things about yourself. And even though I pretty thoroughly examined my oddity in an earlier post, I'm game.

1. I'll only drink my coffee if it's scalding hot. Anything less than burnt-tongue hot, and it's down the drain.
2. Some of my favorite movies of all time are "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy. I can thank Steve for that, I think. (And no, I don't plan on donning a Hobbit costume and going to any conventions any time soon.)
3. I cry, at least a little, at almost every movie I watch. Even comedies. Case in point: We watched 50 First Dates last night, and yep, there were tears. Not Steve's. Mine.
4. I read Science Fiction. (Number 2 isn't so surprising anymore, is it?)
5. I wouldn't know how to prepare and cook a whole chicken if my life depended on it. Ditto on most other meats. And to think my father used to own a meat locker.

Now,

Not it!

Happy Birthday, Dear Steve

Happy Birthday, Steve.

I love you.

My Magical iPod Super Powers (aka Adapting)

There are over 8 million people in New York City.

I try to keep my heart open to the many, many people I interact with every day. But surviving with almost nonexistent personal space requires adaptation...somehow I've become less aware of the constant presence of people, both known and unknown. For a time, I felt like a painfully self-conscious teenager, wondering what the hundreds of strangers I passed daily were thinking about my presence next to them on the sidewalks and subways. And then I remembered the lesson I first learned all those years ago: People aren't thinking about me to begin with.

But I also have a secret weapon to help protect my personal space: my iPod. Maybe it's not such a secret, as 50% of subway users seem to have the same idea, but there's something about popping in those earbuds that makes me feel like I am once removed from the crush of people around me. The music that only I can hear, selected by me for my particular mood, not shared with anyone else... In my more imaginative (and admittedly geeky) moments, I almost envision an invisible force field around me, providing a buffer between me and the sights, the sounds, the smells...the sum of which is sometimes overwhelming.

iPod magic works in the apartment, too. Turn up the volume, and I'm all alone...the tiny apartment with too many bodies per square foot disappears and I can do my work without interruption.

I will not become a calloused New Yorker--that is not what Christ would have me be--
But there is something to be said for a little adaptation.

You know what I miss? Meijer Brand.

These past years while Steve has been in school, I have been a faithful purchaser of Meijer Brand products. I bought them out of necessity, out of respect for Dave Ramsey's principles, out of cheapskatedness (I know spell check isn't going to let that word through. Ah, well). It's safe to say that if I needed something and Meijer made it, the brand names weren't even an option. I fondly recall that sometimes Meijer would run sales on their brand, making a good deal spectacular.

Those were the days.

Store brands don't exist much around here. I get groceries about every other day, which means that I've been to the grocery store at least 2 dozen times since we've moved. And yet I still feel a prick of guilt every time I buy a brand name item. Rather ridiculous, that guilt.

Old habits die hard, you know?