This is what I want for Christmas:
http://www.trulia.com/property/1080817029-10-Ainsley-St-Boston-MA-02122
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
the cat
There's a polydactyl cat that lives next door that would definitely be my evil nemesis, were I any kind of superhero.
It's actually not even really NEXT DOOR, its like sort of IN MY HOUSe. We live in a triple decker whose structure holds two separate addresses. Side A: beautiful new refurbished condos, owner occupied. Side B: section eight housing. I kid you not. We had no idea when we bought the place. Nor did any realtor give us the heads up. So the front of the building we share a balcony with our next door neighbor that is separated by a plywood barrier. My side: wooden bench, outdoor carpet, end tables, candles, solar powered night time lighting. Their side: office chair, plastic dinosaur, beer bottles, and a temperamental screen door that their has the ability to open at will. So the cat first appeared at my window in the fall,a nd I had no idea whose it was...I thought he might have just climbed up since we live on the second story. No. I actually tried to *set him free* by putting him on my back balcony, and then got threatened by our neighbor who indicated that the cat was indeed his and I was never to touch it again (yes, the same one whose apartment was shot at). So. I now leave the cat alone.
Yet Nubs (that's what I call him because he's got those weird thimbs that some cats have) keeps coming back. I took to spraying him with water, which is a temporary fix -- he seems to hate water. But he keeps coming back. And now that it's lovely weather and I've planted pink begonias and some greenery in my flower box, we are at the mercy of the Nubster. He chews on my ornamental grasses and scratches at my rug. And the other day, he was left out too long and defecated and urinated all over our balcony area.
I can't tell you what that did to me. I actually wanted to call the cops. I called my friend whose husband is a lawyer. I was just so thoroughly DISGUSTED. I mean...it IS disgusting. It's gross, and cat pee cant be but one of the top five worst smells in the universe. But this was deeper. I felt like shame, like self-hatred for not being able to anticipate the fact that we were going to have to live near struggling people. And total, utter, loathing for my neighbors. And I hear the Lord (fourth time this year) tell me...."You despise the poor."
That was really hard to hear.
It's completely true, though. I have absolutely no idea how to see my Lord through the owners of Nubs. I hate their lack of education, their (apparent) laziness, their disregard for personal property and their ill-defined family structure. There's this depravity that I project onto them that I know is lurking in my own heart. I hate it in myself, and I hate being reminded of it by my neighbors. I want so badly to find common ground and love them and get along, but it seems so impossible...but I told the Lord that I want to be healed of this prejudice, and He's been known to perform bigger miracles than that.
In the meantime, I bought a bottle of Critter Away and sprayed the crap out of the area. Hopefully Nubs will be dissuaded enough by the smell to hang out with the plastic toys on the other side of the plywood.
It's actually not even really NEXT DOOR, its like sort of IN MY HOUSe. We live in a triple decker whose structure holds two separate addresses. Side A: beautiful new refurbished condos, owner occupied. Side B: section eight housing. I kid you not. We had no idea when we bought the place. Nor did any realtor give us the heads up. So the front of the building we share a balcony with our next door neighbor that is separated by a plywood barrier. My side: wooden bench, outdoor carpet, end tables, candles, solar powered night time lighting. Their side: office chair, plastic dinosaur, beer bottles, and a temperamental screen door that their has the ability to open at will. So the cat first appeared at my window in the fall,a nd I had no idea whose it was...I thought he might have just climbed up since we live on the second story. No. I actually tried to *set him free* by putting him on my back balcony, and then got threatened by our neighbor who indicated that the cat was indeed his and I was never to touch it again (yes, the same one whose apartment was shot at). So. I now leave the cat alone.
Yet Nubs (that's what I call him because he's got those weird thimbs that some cats have) keeps coming back. I took to spraying him with water, which is a temporary fix -- he seems to hate water. But he keeps coming back. And now that it's lovely weather and I've planted pink begonias and some greenery in my flower box, we are at the mercy of the Nubster. He chews on my ornamental grasses and scratches at my rug. And the other day, he was left out too long and defecated and urinated all over our balcony area.
I can't tell you what that did to me. I actually wanted to call the cops. I called my friend whose husband is a lawyer. I was just so thoroughly DISGUSTED. I mean...it IS disgusting. It's gross, and cat pee cant be but one of the top five worst smells in the universe. But this was deeper. I felt like shame, like self-hatred for not being able to anticipate the fact that we were going to have to live near struggling people. And total, utter, loathing for my neighbors. And I hear the Lord (fourth time this year) tell me...."You despise the poor."
That was really hard to hear.
It's completely true, though. I have absolutely no idea how to see my Lord through the owners of Nubs. I hate their lack of education, their (apparent) laziness, their disregard for personal property and their ill-defined family structure. There's this depravity that I project onto them that I know is lurking in my own heart. I hate it in myself, and I hate being reminded of it by my neighbors. I want so badly to find common ground and love them and get along, but it seems so impossible...but I told the Lord that I want to be healed of this prejudice, and He's been known to perform bigger miracles than that.
In the meantime, I bought a bottle of Critter Away and sprayed the crap out of the area. Hopefully Nubs will be dissuaded enough by the smell to hang out with the plastic toys on the other side of the plywood.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Let go of...
There has to be a more grandiose way to say "I AM AMAZED AT WHAT'S HAPPENING" than simply that, because I AM AMAZED seems tepid and lethargic, even, compared to the gamut of emotions and thought processes I seem to be experiencing.
From my frame of reference, it's really, really a challlenge to live in Dorchester with kids. Really. The other day, I'm walking my kids to the JFK T. The sidewalk is a sheet of ice because DOT doesn't get salted. There's piss in the snow on one side, trash wadded up and shredding on the other, there's two people fighting near me and some other people walking by smoking and cussing up a storm. I am trying to do what I can to not have my kids freak out...I try to make it a game. "Let's ice skate to the T!" And they are fully engaged and laughing...but that happens on a good day, when I am doing everything I can not to be dismayed, depressed, down-trodden and without dignity.
Yesterday was a bad day. My chest has been hurting, like someone is stepping on my heart. I know it's because of the stress I am feeling. I was trying to process it with God...yelling at Him. I was saying it's very unfair of Him to have this potential health issue be another thing on my proverbial plate and I really felt like He answered me, saying, WHY, and He like wanted to know what was behind it, and I told Him I was scared, that because I am such a *feeler* and that everything affects me and it seems like someone a little less reactive would be a good fit here, and He kept prodding me to ~explore~ that fear more and I told Him eventually that the fear itself was that I would have a short run at ministry because I would be so physically affected by doing it in the city and I would die and leave my kids and husband alone, and I swear I heard Him say, LONGEVITY OF LIFE IS NOT SOMETHING I PROMISE.
That was hard to hear.
I feel raw, stripped, daily, like all these expectations that I've had all my life, these assumptions of entitlement, are removing themselves one by one. Money. Safety. Long life. Etc. He wants nothing less than my whole heart. My friend Hanneke sent me some sweet quotes from CS Lewis, an author that doesn not drive me insane.
"Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favorite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end; submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life.
Keep back nothing.
Nothing that you have not given away will ever be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, despair, loneliness, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in."
also, this one part I love....
"...the passionate, sensual, unbalanced people. If they make any attempt at goodness at all, they learn in double quick time, that they need help. It is Christ or nothing for them. It is taking up the cross and following...or despair."
May it be so for me, may I be one of them without regret.
From my frame of reference, it's really, really a challlenge to live in Dorchester with kids. Really. The other day, I'm walking my kids to the JFK T. The sidewalk is a sheet of ice because DOT doesn't get salted. There's piss in the snow on one side, trash wadded up and shredding on the other, there's two people fighting near me and some other people walking by smoking and cussing up a storm. I am trying to do what I can to not have my kids freak out...I try to make it a game. "Let's ice skate to the T!" And they are fully engaged and laughing...but that happens on a good day, when I am doing everything I can not to be dismayed, depressed, down-trodden and without dignity.
Yesterday was a bad day. My chest has been hurting, like someone is stepping on my heart. I know it's because of the stress I am feeling. I was trying to process it with God...yelling at Him. I was saying it's very unfair of Him to have this potential health issue be another thing on my proverbial plate and I really felt like He answered me, saying, WHY, and He like wanted to know what was behind it, and I told Him I was scared, that because I am such a *feeler* and that everything affects me and it seems like someone a little less reactive would be a good fit here, and He kept prodding me to ~explore~ that fear more and I told Him eventually that the fear itself was that I would have a short run at ministry because I would be so physically affected by doing it in the city and I would die and leave my kids and husband alone, and I swear I heard Him say, LONGEVITY OF LIFE IS NOT SOMETHING I PROMISE.
That was hard to hear.
I feel raw, stripped, daily, like all these expectations that I've had all my life, these assumptions of entitlement, are removing themselves one by one. Money. Safety. Long life. Etc. He wants nothing less than my whole heart. My friend Hanneke sent me some sweet quotes from CS Lewis, an author that doesn not drive me insane.
"Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favorite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end; submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life.
Keep back nothing.
Nothing that you have not given away will ever be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, despair, loneliness, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in."
also, this one part I love....
"...the passionate, sensual, unbalanced people. If they make any attempt at goodness at all, they learn in double quick time, that they need help. It is Christ or nothing for them. It is taking up the cross and following...or despair."
May it be so for me, may I be one of them without regret.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
the big bronze pear
Oh my gosh. Dorchester 2, jena 0.
I remember that I used to say to people "Boston is such a nice, manageable city" and really believed it. Now I realize how grossly I underestimated my city. I wanted so bad for it to be like Max, our new kitten that melts when you pat his belly and runs around without interfering in my life. It really is either like a desert cheetah that wants to rip to shreds any prey within 1000 feet, or it's an underfed alleycat with a venereal disease. I haven't decided. I remember it being less...cold...here. It's like REALLY COLD, like all the time. I try not to be daunted by it for the sake of my kids but...what do people do here during the winter? Our muscles are all atrophing sitting around here in the house and we're just bored. Where do people go? How do they stay in shape? How do they encourage their kids, be nice to their spouse...
I've had some support appointments this week that have gotten me to question everything. One of the biggest conundrums of today is, what the frig is the deal with the pear statue in the intersection of Mass Ave & Columbia Rd? I couldn't focus on my last appointment because it was like staring at me, burning holes in my back from its mystical pear eyeballs. I was trying to glean encouragement from it, like, "be fruitful" but that just made me think of having another baby.
I remember that I used to say to people "Boston is such a nice, manageable city" and really believed it. Now I realize how grossly I underestimated my city. I wanted so bad for it to be like Max, our new kitten that melts when you pat his belly and runs around without interfering in my life. It really is either like a desert cheetah that wants to rip to shreds any prey within 1000 feet, or it's an underfed alleycat with a venereal disease. I haven't decided. I remember it being less...cold...here. It's like REALLY COLD, like all the time. I try not to be daunted by it for the sake of my kids but...what do people do here during the winter? Our muscles are all atrophing sitting around here in the house and we're just bored. Where do people go? How do they stay in shape? How do they encourage their kids, be nice to their spouse...
I've had some support appointments this week that have gotten me to question everything. One of the biggest conundrums of today is, what the frig is the deal with the pear statue in the intersection of Mass Ave & Columbia Rd? I couldn't focus on my last appointment because it was like staring at me, burning holes in my back from its mystical pear eyeballs. I was trying to glean encouragement from it, like, "be fruitful" but that just made me think of having another baby.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
a history of violence
It is cold and snowy and I am melancholy and should probably give Welbutrin a second chance.
I am trying to wrestle with the idea of God being intimately interested in the affairs of Jena Brown. A few weeks ago there was a guy apprehended literally right next to my building, who had stashed his weapon somewhere and warranted a fleet of gun-sniffing dogs to enter into the alley between buildings. I have no idea where he came from, whether or not he lives next door to me or was just found there, but it was next door. New Year's Eve I was having a washer delivered and a guy broke into the Sears guy's truck and ripped off his GPS. Luckily the Sears guy was from Brockton and chased him down the street and was able to retrieve it. That was directly in front of the buliding. I brought a bunch of students over to my area to prayer walk and to initiate spiritual conversations with my neighbors at the T and they were all scared of my area and didn't think of it as safe or clean or worthy. A fellow staff even wrote to his supporters that he was over in a *rough and tumble* neighborhood doing ministry (we support him so we got the email). I absorbed their fear and apprehension.
Monday night I came back from this conference because my boy had a stomach bug and we were in the bathroom all night into Tues AM. I was crazed and kept waking up and felt something weird in the wee morning hours. Later that evening we were getting in our car to go to dinner when we saw a bunch of flashed coming from the other address of our buliding (ours is a triple decker with six units...two addresses, three units on either side) on the second floor, our floor. Andrew went to speak with the police who were there and it turns out someone had shot at the building at 5.30 in the morning . The window where it happened is next to Olivia's window. We haven't been able to let her sleep in her room since then and have absolutely no ideas as to how to safeguard her. You can't use bulletproof glass in a residential structure because it's too heavy/code violations. We would have to essentially make her room steel-encased, like a panic room, which would be like $50K. We are at a loss as to what to do.
In the meantime, I can't sleep, I can't focus, I want to know how the "perfect love casts out fear." My heart is literally broken...we bought this condo because we wanted it to be a haven, a place of rest and fun, where students -- and whoever else -- could come and enjoy themselves and relax. What will it be now? What is our future here? Why has He made us wait 7 years to come back to Boston only to have us constantly sidetracked from support raising, cowering in fear and making our whole family play musical beds every night? How could this situation possibly be redeemed? How could I ever let her sleep in that room again knowing that she could be shot at from the street?
I have moments where I think to myself, God redeemed the corporate church, the individualization of that is not necessarily relevant/important/valuable. I need, now, to know that it is. I need to know that there is a specific purpose and a specific plan, and no amount of Welbutrin in the world will appease me .
I am trying to wrestle with the idea of God being intimately interested in the affairs of Jena Brown. A few weeks ago there was a guy apprehended literally right next to my building, who had stashed his weapon somewhere and warranted a fleet of gun-sniffing dogs to enter into the alley between buildings. I have no idea where he came from, whether or not he lives next door to me or was just found there, but it was next door. New Year's Eve I was having a washer delivered and a guy broke into the Sears guy's truck and ripped off his GPS. Luckily the Sears guy was from Brockton and chased him down the street and was able to retrieve it. That was directly in front of the buliding. I brought a bunch of students over to my area to prayer walk and to initiate spiritual conversations with my neighbors at the T and they were all scared of my area and didn't think of it as safe or clean or worthy. A fellow staff even wrote to his supporters that he was over in a *rough and tumble* neighborhood doing ministry (we support him so we got the email). I absorbed their fear and apprehension.
Monday night I came back from this conference because my boy had a stomach bug and we were in the bathroom all night into Tues AM. I was crazed and kept waking up and felt something weird in the wee morning hours. Later that evening we were getting in our car to go to dinner when we saw a bunch of flashed coming from the other address of our buliding (ours is a triple decker with six units...two addresses, three units on either side) on the second floor, our floor. Andrew went to speak with the police who were there and it turns out someone had shot at the building at 5.30 in the morning . The window where it happened is next to Olivia's window. We haven't been able to let her sleep in her room since then and have absolutely no ideas as to how to safeguard her. You can't use bulletproof glass in a residential structure because it's too heavy/code violations. We would have to essentially make her room steel-encased, like a panic room, which would be like $50K. We are at a loss as to what to do.
In the meantime, I can't sleep, I can't focus, I want to know how the "perfect love casts out fear." My heart is literally broken...we bought this condo because we wanted it to be a haven, a place of rest and fun, where students -- and whoever else -- could come and enjoy themselves and relax. What will it be now? What is our future here? Why has He made us wait 7 years to come back to Boston only to have us constantly sidetracked from support raising, cowering in fear and making our whole family play musical beds every night? How could this situation possibly be redeemed? How could I ever let her sleep in that room again knowing that she could be shot at from the street?
I have moments where I think to myself, God redeemed the corporate church, the individualization of that is not necessarily relevant/important/valuable. I need, now, to know that it is. I need to know that there is a specific purpose and a specific plan, and no amount of Welbutrin in the world will appease me .
Friday, January 9, 2009
Friday in Dorchester
It's icy on the sidewalks outside our condo and we're not sure who is responsible for making it un-icy...us or the city. I just went to Olivia & Logan's school, St. Brigid's in Southie, to be the GUEST READER for Olivia's class where I read a book called Showing Off --I triumphantly re-entered the condo exclaiming "The kids loved me!" I might need to reread the book.
I am off to a friend's now to have a lunch that I made and am completely unconfident it. I have never been skilled in the areas of home economics. I can't sew, fold laundry, cook or balance a checkbook. I am hoping that my dazzling personality will offset the lame quasiChinese whatever concoction I made from leftover rice, chicken and broccoli. I am hoping that, like grace, the overabundance of soy sauce will cover over a multitude of sins.
I am off to a friend's now to have a lunch that I made and am completely unconfident it. I have never been skilled in the areas of home economics. I can't sew, fold laundry, cook or balance a checkbook. I am hoping that my dazzling personality will offset the lame quasiChinese whatever concoction I made from leftover rice, chicken and broccoli. I am hoping that, like grace, the overabundance of soy sauce will cover over a multitude of sins.
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