green pastures

Park

About to go to my last service at Park as a citizen of Chicago in this single season of my life. I say all those qualifiers in the event God brings me and Shane back to this city, in another time. 

I remember more than 5 years ago going to a 5:30 p.m. service at Francis Parker’s auditorium, and for months I came and I went - without talking to a soul. I prayed for a church home. And once I finally stayed after one service and talked to people, God gave it to me tenfold. More than a church home, God showed me more of Himself, the Bible as a story not of self-help tips but as THE story of redemption and hope…for all nations. I have gone to Turkey and South Africa with this church. I have led a small group and been a part of one. I have grown through studies from Brooklyn Tabernacle to Beth Moore to John Stott to a relationship study Jess and I put together. I have seen a small Saturday prayer gathering turn into a big one. I have prayed with my small group girls on the busy intersection of state and randolph. Many laughs and prayers over brunches and Potbelly’s lunches with dear women in my life. God brought me up to Albany Park and showed me deep friendship with two women who were starting over in the U.S. from the Middle East. I have seen the faithful move of a couple people turn into something more in this neighborhood. And then I met a man in Tennessee. 

I am hopeful for what this next part of life brings. I can’t wait to start it with my almost husband. As I look back on what brought me to this point, I beyond grateful for last five years.  God is doing great things through Park, and I will forever love this church.

The mouse saga conclusion…I hope.

The email I sent to my roomie to follow-up on the email the day before:

I heard a squeak from the kitchen this morning.

I feared what was waiting for me in the kitchen if I looked behind the
trashcan or the box where I had laid two mouse traps two nights
before.

I stood in the bathroom and tried to carry on as usual. Tried to talk
myself into going into that kitchen and collecting a trapped mouse.
Once I convinced myself that I couldn’t wait for Shane to get here in
mid-August and not wanting to feel like the mouse was continuing to
watch and plot against me, I went in. (Not without first putting
rubber gloves on and gathering a plastic bag to throw the trap in.)

I’m not sure when it happened, but when I peered behind the box in the
kitchen, I had to look twice. That little guy was stuck to that glue
pretty good; he had blended in with the black back drop of the mouse
trap, so I didn’t even see him the first time.

The rest of the story went like I suppose stories go with mice. I
picked up the trap (not looking in his eyes of course and taking a
picture to send to you three first), put him in the Home Depot plastic
bag and told myself to calm down as I found my sandals and keys and
went outside to throw him away.

I went back inside and stood in that kitchen, imagining what it will
be like to not fear a rodent running right by you or hiding behind the
garbage can.

I’m hoping he doesn’t have a Mrs. But I left the second trap out there
just in case.

Thanks for reading. Writing this out has been a healing experience for me. :)

The mouse saga.

An excerpt from the email I just sent my roomie about a new roomie that has joined us in our apartment…

I have seen a mouse.

Now, I saw this little thing months ago, but never saw it again, so I figured it had gone on to greener pastures. But then, the last time Shane was here, he saw it too.

So, I cleaned on Friday and found lots of mouse turds behind our baskets of food. I promptly cleaned that up, along with rotten potatoes…still trying to get the smell out of the kitchen because of those things.

And then that’s when I saw it. Behind the garbage cans. It scurried for the door, and I tried to open the door so the little thing could get out. I kind of felt bad for it. It was kind of cute, actually. That is, until I saw it AGAIN yesterday. This time, it was behind the box of food. I screamed. It ran under the dishwasher (last time, it ran under the stove).

I consulted my mom, who has had her share of mice. She knows what kind of traps work and what are good for nothing. I bought them yesterday, set them up last night and said a little prayer this morning as I prepared to face a mouse stuck in the glue traps I had set out for it. I actually dreamed that the traps had caught two mice. Anyway, unfortunately, the little guy hasn’t taken my bait…yet.

But don’t worry. I’ll keep you informed. The mouse saga continues…