Family

A persistent buzzing pulled me from the hazy warmth of nonsensical dreams.  My watch’s face glowed green and read 4:30.  I left the cocoon of blankets behind, rinsed sleep out of my eyes, pulled on some clothes and fumbled for my keys.  Outside, the air was frosty but damp; Orion was low on the horizon.  The screeching of the icy windshield sent shivers down my back.  Cold air blew through the heater for at least five lights.  The city was waking up.

My car slid into the nearly empty lot.  They were getting an early start today.  The doors of the hospital slid open.  Bypassing the woman at the desk, I made for the little huddle of people seated with their backs to me.  Two white heads and a dark one.  I placed my hands on Carl’s shoulders and asked, “What are you doing here so early?!?”

Life in the Reba Place Fellowship

    At the beginning of the new year, Ben Lee, Andy Ross and I spent a couple days in the Chicago area with the Reba Place Fellowship, an intentional community started on Reba Place in Evanston by a group of Mennonites in the 1950's.  We were hosted by Grete and Aaron Scott, friends from Hopwood/Milligan, who moved into the Reba neighborhood this past year.  Aaron teaches school nearby while Grete pursues a Masters at DePaul University.  They aren’t members of the Reba Place Fellowship (intentional community), but have been attending the related Reba Place Church and as they wanted to get closer to the community, they have rented space in one of the Reba houses and live with a woman from the Fellowship.

"It Sucks to be Me"
    I picked up my fifth grade daughter from school this afternoon.  She lugged her 80 lb. backpack into the front seat and buckled in her 56 lb., fifth grade frame.  As we pulled away from the school she pulled out a glossy teen magazine and began to read.
    I rolled my eyes and said, “I wish you wouldn’t read that.”
    “Why?  What’s wrong with it?”
    “It’s junk, that’s what’s wrong with it.”
    “Why do you say that?”