Changed lives, hearts, city

I love it when I come across a passage that I should be familiar with, but it's as if I'm reading it for the first time and it connects in a deep and real way.

We're getting together with the Urban Village community Sunday night to dream, discuss, and continue to get to know one another. I met with one member of our community yesterday who does leadership development for a living and we had a great discussion about how Sunday night should go, including making sure we're getting our purpose across. Are we doing this new church just because we have cool CTA ads? Of course not, but it drove me to search various commissioning stories and Luke 24:44-49 really struck me, particularly verse 47, which says (the resurrected Jesus is talking here, a little bit in the third person), "...and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem." Three things are here that sum up why I'm doing what I'm doing. Repentance=changed lives. Forgiveness=changed hearts. Jerusalem (or in my case Chicago)=changed city. Repentance is a bit of a loaded word for some but its root meaning points to a change of mind and life.

Why are we doing what we're doing? That sums it up. And it keeps me going day by day.

The wheels on the bus

I love the bus. I hate the bus. This is the dilemma.

I'm really starting to get the hang of mass transit and I'm learning more and more that, for the most part, I prefer the L to the bus. If there aren't many people on the bus and it doesn't creep and crawl along State Street (for example), I prefer the bus, but that doesn't seem to be happening lately. Plus there was incident yesterday that troubled me deeply.

We were moving so slowly south on State when a guy across the aisle started yelling at the bus driver. I really wasn't paying attention to what he was saying but a woman (she was probably in her late 60s/early 70s) said something back to him. He then let her have it verbally, starting swearing at her, made abusive comments about her age. And we all just sat there.

I don't really know what to do in those situations. This was a really big guy who was really belligerent and was also taking big swigs of beer while all this was going on. Do you stand up for the woman and incur his wrath? Tell the bus driver? He had to be hearing this. Or just do nothing and hope the woman isn't scarred by this incident. She didn't seem to be, but it really ticked me off and I wanted to get in this guy's face, which probably wouldn't have solved anything. Sigh. What would Jesus do, indeed.

Of course, I could also ride the L where just last Monday we got in and noticed that someone had vomited all over one of the seats.

Really wants to make you live in the city, no?

Thankful for Rochelle

My apologies to everyone who lives in Rochelle, IL, but I really didn't want to visit you last Friday. At first. I had to attend a United Methodist administrative-type meeting and was dreading the drive out there, but, thankfully, the traffic was clear and as soon as I made it out of the Chicagoland area, I was so glad for the trip. I'm not usually a country music fan, but I had a CD that someone gave me and it fit perfectly. Cornfields, small towns, lower gas prices.

Sometimes city living can be exhausting. I've been feeling that for the past few days. The litter gets to me as do the sirens and all-around congestion. I think I'm wise enough to know that I wouldn't be completely happy in a small town, but it was so nice just to connect to that simpler life; maybe it was connecting to a part of my story, too, seeing as I spent the first 24 years of my life in small(ish) towns.

It reminded me once again of the need for true Sabbath, a time to get out of my routine, go somewhere that isn't congested and just sit, stare, and be.

Finding God in Finding Nemo

Today is an anniversary of sorts. One year ago, Trey and I officially opened for business as Urban Village Church (though at the time we were nameless!). That's spurred a lot of reflection for me the last few days.

One of my favorite stories happened in April of '08. Trey and I had gone to a church-planting conference in Orlando and during one particular night, I remember being filled with excitement but also a great deal of anxiety as I wondered whether we could pull this off. As I sat there flipping through the television, I came across the movie "Finding Nemo." This kind of movie was exactly what I was in the mood for. And, believe it or not, I also believe that God spoke to me through that movie.

There's a scene where Nemo's dad (Marlin) and his companion (Dory--both of these characters are fish, I should add) are trapped inside a whale, clinging to the whale's tongue so they don't fall into the whale's stomach. As they're holding on for dear life, Dori swears that she can "speak whale" and says that the whale is telling them to let go of the tongue. That makes no sense to Marlin. Of course the whale wants us to let go, he says, the whale wants to eat us! Dory insists. Marlin says, how do you know something bad won't happen? Dori exclaims, I don't! But they let go, which allows the whale to blow them through its blowhole and they get out alive.

As soon as I watched that scene, I had a strange feeling that we could pull this new church off and the first thing I had to do was let go. Let go of trying to control. Let go of fear. Let go of anxiety. Trust that God had brought us this far and God would be with us as we moved. And God has.

Letting go is one of the hardest things to do in our faith, but when we do--when we trust that God is active in our lives and cares for us deeply--it's also the most freeing.

Following up on the nudges

It's one thing to recognize when you might have been nudged by God. It's another to actually follow through on the nudge. I think I have decent nudge recognition. But, unfortunately, that's as far as it goes.

Two examples from yesterday. I was walking down Michigan Avenue after having a fascinating conversation with a Pauline nun who's an avid blogger (they run the Pauline bookstore on Michigan and Lake) and a woman walks by me and she's clearly been crying. I noticed the tears. I noticed that she was wearing an Argo Tea t-shirt. Would it have hurt to ask, "Are you OK?" The worst that could have happened is that she ignores me or tells me to mind my own business. That was a nudge that I didn't do anything with.

Later in the day, I was walking home and noticed that our next-door neighbor was walking about a block ahead of me. We get along with our neighbors very well and a few weeks ago they mentioned they may come to church someday. Would it have hurt to call out to the neighbor and walk with her? No. But I just kept walking, minding my own business. Another nudge I ignored.

Seeing God in our daily lives is a beautiful thing. It also can be a time to respond, too.

Changed lives, changed city

My friends and family are probably tired of me talking about this, but I'm writing to you from Redlands, CA, where I'm speaking to different groups of United Methodist clergy and laity about the Urban Village experience.

I had my first presentation yesterday. It got off to a slow start with lots of people staring at me (so I perceived) with blank faces, but as I got going, I felt like I was connecting more. By the end, I was peppered with lots of great questions and a few challenges, too ("You claim to be different. What makes Urban Village so different?"). The question that made me pause, though, was a simple one: What kind of transformation are you promising the people who come to your church?

I was a little taken aback because I had never been asked that question in that way before. I stood there for a few seconds in silence, trying to figure out the best way to answer it. I finally came up with a simple answer: Changed lives and a changed city. I was surrounded by other pastors so I felt compelled to use some theological jargon because I wasn't sure my simple answer was adequate enough. As I thought about it this morning, though, I believe it is.

What could be more powerful, more radical than a changed life? We firmly believe that the gospel of Jesus changes everything. And when peoples' lives are changed, they want to transform their neighborhoods and their city so that others can know this love and grace, too. That change may come slowly with some, quickly with others. But, if we're open to it, I believe that this change happens. That's God's promise to us.

Yet another thing they don't teach in seminary

Pastoral Care to the Inebriated 101

Now that's a seminary class that people would sign up for. But, alas, it's one of those experiences that you usually have to go through. Like last night. We had a gathering at a pub in the Lakeview neighborhood and had a great time and a great turnout. One of the folks from the church had won a Happy Hour and she "donated" it to the church so from 6:30 to 8:30, people could drink Budweiser products for free. United Methodists have historically frowned on alcohol consumption, but we thought this would be a fairly tame way to bring people together in a place that wouldn't be intimidating and that would be easy for people to invite friends to. For the most part, it was. There was one exception.

There's a man who's come to a few of our worship services after finding one of our postcards on the street. I'd seen him only once, but he says he's come more than that. I arrived around 6:45 and the man pretty quickly approached Trey (the other Urban Village pastor) and I to tell us that he likes our sermons and he liked the fact that we wrote him a note thanking him for visiting. It was clear that he'd already had too much to drink so I tried to engage him a little bit, but also kept an eye on him the rest of the night. He talked to a few of our folks and made some of them feel uncomfortable (and bless those who attempted to have a conversation with him). By 8:15, though, he was thoroughly drunk and was getting slightly belligerent. He was yelling at people to get out of the way and I thought he wanted to leave so I asked him, "Do you want to leave?" I think he thought I was saying, "Let's take this outside and fight" and so he asked me if I wanted to leave. I tried to remain calm in the midst of the situation but he grabbed my shirt at one point and I was wondering how this was going to end up. I wasn't too nervous because I probably could have simply gave him a little nudge and he would have fallen down (not that I would have done that). Anyway, the bartender called the police and the man soon left.

What to do in that situation? I haven't had a lot of experience in dealing with the homeless, but I've volunteered at enough soup kitchens and shelters to know that there's usually a no tolerance policy when it comes to being drunk. I think we handled it the best way we could--tried to be hospitable while also paying close attention to make sure he wasn't abusive. I met with a woman this morning who's had fairly extensive experience in being with the homeless and I asked for her wisdom and one of the first things she said was, you have to have a lot of love and a lot of forgiveness. Not that you tolerate abuse, but recognize that mental illness can sometimes play a role in a person's behavior or misbehavior.

I hope he comes back to church. I hope he comes sober. I hope we have the wisdom to know how to love him while respecting the whole community's boundaries. I need to take that class.

Fasting and the arts

We had an interesting discussion during our staff meeting yesterday about engaging in core spiritual practices together. One of our future interns noted that she was familiar with a church plant in New York that was pretty dedicated to doing certain things together like reading Scripture and fasting. Trey, Matt (one of our worship leaders) and I talked about different options and the notion of fasting kept coming up. Though we've all fasted at one point or another in the past, it's not been something that we've done regularly.

One idea I had was to combine fasting with something else I've been wanting to do more of--engage the arts. I keep telling people that one of the advantages of living in the city is the unbelievable access we have to a wide variety of the arts and yet most of my experience with the arts has been doing crafts with my kids or watching Netflix. None of this is bad, but I think I can stretch myself a bit. Maybe I can skip lunch one day a week and experience God through a trip to an art gallery or a free concert or a street performer. It's not a huge sacrifice, but it's a start. Kind of gives new meaning to starving artist.

Day off

I've tried really hard to not use my iPhone on my day off/Sabbath and I did pretty well today--almost made it but then I had to give my son a bath and I was standing there, watching him play in the tub, feeling a bit bored...and I caved to check my email. Sigh. I know the proper father thing to do would have been to wonder at his play and talk with him etc. etc. No Father of the Year Award today.

I do get some Man of the House props today, however, for installing a kitchen faucet. Me installing something is a rarity so excuse me while I pat myself on the back. It only drips a little bit and I'm 99 percent sure that's the manufacturer's fault and not mine. I called to ask about this and the woman said they'd have to ship a part for me and said it would take 28 days and then asked, "Will that be a problem?" I laughed. I'll put up with the slight drip because there's no way I'm taking that faucet back out to return it.

Litmus tests

Have there always been litmus tests in churches? I'd be curious what different ones have been in days gone by.

One of the main ones we get (and I suppose many other churches get) is about homosexuality. It happened again today after church. A nice young couple came up to me after the worship, said they were new, said they were looking for a church, and the woman said she just had one question (wait for it): What is our stance on homosexuality?

This question used to frustrate me because, on the one hand, I find it's so difficult to give a satisfactory, pithy answer. I've been asked about it so much with our new church, though, I'm answering it in about 30 seconds and it boils down to our belief that homosexuality is not a sin. I don't always know if this is the answer the questioner wants and the woman this morning gave no clue as to whether she agreed or disagreed with me. Interestingly, she had another question: Do we believe in the Holy Spirit and do we believe that the Holy Spirit can still do miracles? I don't know what she meant by "miracles," but I didn't ask. I simply gave an emphatic yes and also encouraged her to meet with me further so we can talk a little more in depth about these issues.

Will she and her boyfriend/husband be back? One thing I've learned with this new church is to never assume anything. I've had people come up to me and say their lives have been changed thanks to Urban Village and then never return and I've had the opposite happen, too. People who seem like they wouldn't like it and they're here every Sunday.

I do know this. It's never boring. Thanks be to God.

One of those days

I haven't had "one of those days" in quite some time, but today...

It started out with disappointment as I opened the Chicago Tribune. The Trib is supposed to be doing an article on Urban Village Church and we thought today was the day that it would run, but nada. Who knows if/when it will be printed? Then I went to my daughter's school where I was teaching her class about prayer; specifically, breath prayer. She goes to a Catholic school but nearly half the students are non-Catholic so when they break off into religion classes, they're grouped into Catholic (called the Moonbeams) and non-Catholic (the Shooting Stars). I offered to come in and do a little teaching with the Shooting Stars so I've been with them three times this week. It went really well (thanks to the "Way of the Child" curriculum), but when I walked out of the building, I quickly saw that my car had been towed.

I've been so proud that I haven't gotten a ticket since moving to Chicago but this was unbelievable. I paid for parking, but had failed to see that there was street cleaning on this particular side of the street on Friday mornings and, of course, it was a tow zone. As I noted on my Facebook page today, I had been teaching about breath prayers to the class, but said something under my breath when the car was missing. And it wasn't a prayer. I finally figured out that the car was at 400 Lower East Wacker Drive, which is in the bowels of the city. $7 cab ride there. $160 to get it out of the tow lot. $50 ticket on top of all that. Lower Wacker Drive (above) is just one depressing place. I'll never figure out how to get around down there and I hope to never be back. They were appropriately surly to me which I actually didn't mind. I didn't want them to be cheery or tell me have a nice day.

Things have gotten better as the day's gone on, though. A hamburger for lunch helped as did reading "Deliberate Simplicity" by Dave Browning. And my sermon is starting to come together which didn't seem possible a couple days ago.

Now to get ready for our daughter's birthday party tomorrow. Our house is being transformed into Hogwarts.

Is presentation everything?

My wife and I were in Seattle last weekend for a family wedding. When people asked us about the ceremony, we both gave similar answers. That wasn't the case if we were asked about the bride's dress. My answer: "Um, it was kind of an ivory-white color." My wife's answer: I must confess I don't even remember because it went on for a few sentences and included the word "pleats" and may have included the phrase "off-the-shoulder." So, I wondered, where was my attention? Perhaps not surprisingly, it was on the officiant. I was silently critiquing his style, the vows, what he was wearing, etc. Not one of my better moments.

How you present yourself at a wedding can cause some consternation, but it's not just weddings that may bring on this anxiety. Whether it's work or a social event or even going for a workout, we pay attention to the clothes we wear and how we present ourselves. If we're honest with ourselves, we may even admit that we also are watching others and judging their "presentations."

One of our church's CTA ads says that Urban Village Church loves tattoos and suits. But no matter what you wear or what you have inked on your body, a deeper issue, I think, is whether we're following Colossians 3:12. The author of this text encourages us to clothe ourselves not with the latest fashion or tattoo, but with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, and, above all else, love.

I'll explore our spiritual wardrobes this Sunday and reflect on the kinds of impressions we're making in our daily lives.

What can I do?

Oh, Genxrev, how I have neglected you...but, Twitter only asks a 140 characters from me!

Isn't it interesting that four words uttered in different contexts can generate such different emotions in me?

Things are going well at Urban Village. For those who are curious, here are the "stats":

March 28 (first Sunday morning worship): 145 people
April 4 (Easter): 155
April 11: 120
April 18: 125
April 25: 130

We expected a bit of a drop off after Easter, but it's not as dramatic as it could have been and, as you can see, we're trending up! One of the great things is the number of people who want to do more than just come on Sunday morning. They want to get involved. What can I do? they ask and we celebrate the question.

Sunday afternoons, though, I'm usually pretty wiped out and just want to lay around, maybe nap, maybe work on a crossword puzzle, but around 2 p.m. or so my 5-year-old will come up to me and sweetly say, "What can I do?" Translation: I'm bored. Entertain me.

Groan.

It's part of parenthood, I realize, but there are times when I'm more energized to do stuff with him than others.

Sermon podcast

It's been quite a while since I put up a podcast, but here's a link so you can listen to my sermon from last Sunday:

https://www.yousendit.com/download/bFFQaUNLUENxRTFjR0E9PQ

Also, a great quote for the day:

"We cannot do without a paradigm to help us live. As a believer, I keep bumping into Jesus. I wander away, and there he is, perhaps in the eyes of someone on the street. There is no escape for me. Nor do I want there to be." Alan W. Jones

Everyone counts

You may have read the story in recent weeks about the teen-age girl in Mississippi who wanted to challenge school policy and bring her girlfriend to her high-school prom. Rather than allow this, however, the county school board canceled the prom altogether. This set off a flurry of debate, outrage, and a lawsuit. It also got me thinking about this sermon series that we're beginning this Sunday.

The series is called "Everyone Counts." The U.S. Census wants us all to be counted, but different segments of our society find it hard to believe that everyone should count. We're saying that not only does everyone count (and is loved) in God's eyes, but God also calls you and I to think about our own biases and reflect on whether we truly believe the same thing.

Do you think Democrats and Republicans should count? People who wear suits and tattoos? Doubters and believers? Gay people and straight people? Cub fans and Sox fans? Take it a step further. Are we able begin the process of loving all of them, as well?

Can you love the teen who wants to take her girlfriend to the prom and those who don't want to allow that? That's a tall order for a lot of us. But if we're interested in following the way of Jesus, eventually we come across his words that challenge us to love those who harm us and infuriate us. That's not easy and it may take a long time, but, hopefully, in our better moments, we remember that Jesus loves us when we can be less than lovable.

Join us beginning this Sunday as we explore the difficulty and joy of loving others who check different boxes.

New Urban Village video

It's good to have talented and gifted and generous in-laws. My sister-in-law Stefanie Curry designed our ads for the trains and buses and my brother-in-law Paul Traynor and his colleague put this video together for us for practically nothing. Pretty cool!


It was weird not having to put together a Maundy Thursday or Good Friday service, but it was also kind of nice. Getting ready for tomorrow, though. Really curious to see who will show up.

Oh, our poor kids. It's been gray and rainy here today and that combined with constant utterances of "What can I do?" have made my wife and I not very patient. I'm thankful for neighbors with kids who are in the same boat!

Thoughts from our launch Sunday

Sorry it's taken me so long to post about our launch Sunday! Here's an email I sent to our prayer team yesterday that summarizes things. The first part of the email was written by my colleague Trey:

"Well, friends, Urban Village Church is out of the starting gates! Our first weekly service went really wonderfully. We could not have asked for a better beginning! There was a great, warm spirit in the place; amazing music; lots of laughter throughout the service; and, best of all, about 150 diverse people, many who were totally new to us. Thanks to God and to everybody who showed up and helped out!

"A colleague of mine who lives in another state but has friends in Chicago emailed me on Sunday afternoon. He had sent a 'spy' to the service to check us out and he wanted to share his friend's experience of Urban Village:

'It was awesome -- hilarious, witty, welcoming, open and inspiring. Out of an overwhelming sense of gratitude, I cried. Twice. Loved it.'"

As I noted last week, we really had no idea what to expect, but everything went about as smoothly as we could have hoped. Afterward, we were pretty tired and, to be honest, I was a bit deflated for 24 hours or so afterward (kind of like that post-Christmas feeling that kids get), but the great news is that we get to do it again this Sunday as we proclaim the good news of the resurrection. People really want to hear this news! Here's another email we received this week:

"I sincerely enjoyed your authentic services on Sunday. I appreciated your candor, insight and the welcoming message. It was refreshing to find a place that declares to its congregation that it's OK to doubt. That it's critical to your development as a Christian to question things, to push, to question, to be uncomfortable with God. That God is so large that we haven't even begun to scratch the surface of his messages for our lives. I have been to too many churches here where the congregation is disinterested and just going through the motions. I have been looking for a church home that is interested in getting into the meat of the scriptures, finding life applications to His Word, and finding ways to serve the neighborhood."

I think and hope we're striking a chord out there--will be really interesting to see what kind of response we get this week.

Delivery Day

"Do you want to deliver her?"

My wife had been in labor with our first child for 8 1/2 hours or so. There were three of us in the hospital room. Me. The nurse-midwife. My wife. (And I suppose my soon-to-be child, too). Our nurse-midwife had been laid back throughout this whole process which I guess is what you want from your medical practitioner. I kept thinking she should be doing something...oh, I don't know...medical when my wife had contractions, but she kept hanging back, letting nature do its thing. It was getting to be clear, however, that our daughter was about to be born. So, the nurse-midwife turned to me and says, "Do you want to deliver her?"

Let me make clear that I was not an OB/GYN doctor or nurse before I went into the ministry. My only experience was going through the pre-birth classes with my wife. But the offer to help with the delivery was there and so, I figured, what the heck?

"Should I do anything, like wear gloves?" I said.

"No, just wash your hands," the nurse-midwife said.

And so I did. She told me where to put my hands and when the time came, I guided my daughter into the world (realizing, of course, that my wife did all the heavy lifting).
Any person will tell you that being present at a birth is something you'll never forget and when you have the opportunity to actually be part of the delivery, it's life-altering.

Forgive me if I'm overdoing the analogy, but all of us will be present at a birth this Sunday and all of us will be part of the delivery. This idea of a new church was conceived more than two years ago and Trey and I are still pinching ourselves that Sunday morning worship is starting in just a few days. So many hours of work, prayers said, and coffees slurped all come together when we start joining our voices in song at 10:15 a.m.

You have been a part of this process and we hope you'll be there when this new creation begins on Sunday. John 1 tells us that all things came into being through God. I believe that this community (with all the marvelous and messy people who make it up) came into being through God. Join us on Sunday to celebrate this birth day.

At the Spertus and random stuff

We had our big launch party last night in our new digs and had a great time. It was yet another reminder that the work of getting the word (and Word) out is never done. I sometimes get a little carried away when I hear or see evidence that there's going to be a huge turnout. A handful of people tell me they'll be there and I immediately project that into large numbers. We had a nice crowd--at least 50, maybe 75--and we're hearing lots of people say they'll be there when we launch on March 28, but none of us can sit back and expect people to find us if we aren't there hitting the pavement.

If you haven't become a fan of Urban Village Church on Facebook, please do so--you can see our new ads which are up at various L stops throughout the city. Actually you can go on our web site, too, and see them, too.

The 8th annual Coon NCAA Bracket Tournament is in full force and we have a record number of 17 people playing. We're battling for a traveling bobblehead trophy (now known affectionately as Bob) that I think may be showing its age. My 5-year-old son is in second place after the first day!

Big questions discussed over waffles

My wife had to go to the grocery store near dinner time last night so I offered to make waffles for the kids. Waffles are great for a Sunday night meal (at least that's what I tell myself) and my daughter and son heartily agree. As we sat there spreading the butter and pouring the syrup, my 5-year-old son made the comment apropos of nothing that he missed our old house.

We moved from the suburbs to downtown Chicago last summer and people often ask how the kids have made the transition. They seem to be happy most of the time and are making new friends so I always assume that everything is going great, forgetting that they still have memories and that there still may be a sense of loss. I was further taken aback when my daughter (who'll be nine in May) immediately agreed with him. It's been a while since they've said anything about missing our previous home so I followed up with the typical questions. Why do you miss it? What specifically do you miss? It was hard for them to articulate at first, but my daughter eventually gave me three specific answers.

She misses having a back yard.

She misses having her own swing set.

There's more litter where we live now.

I couldn't really disagree with her points and I spent the rest of the evening pondering all this and feeling a little guilty about the move. We moved because I'm helping start a new church in the city and, personally and professionally, I really haven't regretted it at all. But, of course, when you're married with two kids and an aging dog, it's not all about me.

She's right about the litter. I've noticed it, too, as the snow begins to melt. This may be the ugliest time of the year because the remaining snow drifts are now charcoal gray and the warmer weather reveals small bits of garbage and dog waste. It's not overwhelming, but it is noticeable. I also understand her missing the swing set that we had. There is a sense of convenience and ownership about having your own swing set rather than having to the park. We spent more time talking about not having a back yard because the last few days she's been having a great time playing soccer with some other kids her age in the courtyard/parking lot in the back of our town house. She agreed with my observation, but noted that when you play on asphalt, it hurts when you fall down as opposed to playing on grass.

I can't deny that some sacrifices have been made in living where we do and I must confess that I sometimes jump to quickly to the advantages, like the diversity and living so close to so many world-class museums. I don't spend as much time thinking about what we left behind. But, like most parents, I pray that my kids might learn some lessons in all this.

Rather than moving to escape the litter, another option would be to pick up a bag and pick some of the litter up. My wife did that a few months ago. A car window was broken outside our home and the glass stayed on the ground for days. I kept expecting the Broken Car Window Clean-up Fairy to come by and take care of it but s/he didn't show up. So my wife put on some gardening gloves and did it herself.

Rather than moving so that we can have our own swing set, I hope my kids learn about sharing public resources while they play at the park and rub elbows with children who come from a wide variety of backgrounds.

And rather than moving so we can have a backyard with grass, maybe they'll learn that falling down sometimes hurts and so you have to make the decision whether to get back up again and keep kicking the ball.

As I pray that my kids learn these lessons, however, I also wonder about the last time that I picked up a bag or shared my resources or got back up off the ground without grumbling or blaming someone or Someone else. We're learning lessons together.

After we finished our waffles, the kids went out on the little deck outside our kitchen to play with some Silly String that one of them got at a birthday party. In a matter of minutes, they went from talking about what they missed to rejoicing at what was before them. The string squirted out onto the parking lot and landed on the asphalt, the same asphalt that will cushion their fall when they get the soccer ball out tomorrow.