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.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
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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