boston commoner.

welcome home

Two weeks ago I spent most of a Saturday afternoon dodging snow bullets. Big, fat, wet flakes pummeled the Boston area for the better part of the day and into the evening. If it hadn’t been so wet, it would have qualified as “Charlie Brown snow” or, as Mels calls it, “engagement snow.” Mind this was the 30th of October we are talking about. Seeing that much winter that early in the season is rare even for us and, frankly, a frightening harbinger of things to come (think many early mornings spent breaking shovels in half while trying to dig your car out of crusty, rock-filled snowbanks; if you succeed, and make it out, someone else steals your spot or the ploughs fill it in again before you get home again later that evening.) Still, despite the fear and trepidation at the thought of another record-breaking Boston winter, I couldn’t help feeling that sense of wonder at a first snow. Something so clean and cheerful about it, so quiet as it falls. The trees, still laden with most of their leaves which are ironically very late in turning this year, couldn’t have handled anything more than the dusting they received by the end of the “storm,” and by Monday temps were back up near 70 degrees. I just don’t know, sometimes, about this city of mine. But I do know I love the way the snow looks against the wrought iron streetlamps, dusts the edges of the shopwindow awnings and how it fills in the cracks between the bricks on the sidewalks in my neighborhood.

Walking home that Saturday evening, I regressed a little and found myself face-up at the sky delighting in snow like angel’s ashes brushing my face and dusting my lashes. I flicked icy droplets from my sweater and marveled that winter seemed to have overtaken summer so seamlessly, and without warning. It was as if I’d slept through autumn which, as a child, had seemed to last forever and progress in degrees. What’s changed? Am I just too busy? Not busy enough? Have I become that boring, not to notice my favorite season, to fail to relish in the little pleasures of harvest times, mulled spices, vivid colors and clear mornings? Where had the days gone? Sadness replaced my light-hearted snow-scoping as I approached 102 Chandler, sometimes known as my home.

In my building, the lights had gone out in the common areas and so the only light guiding me up the somewhat warped and winding staircase came from an unseen skylight several stories above. Climbing that staircase that evening was like ascending out of a grave, or trying to. My apartment door was located halfway between darkness and silver-blue light, and I stood outside it for a moment with my hand on the lock feeling inexplicably nervous and little sick. Dead quiet in the building, no light, aware of the snow insulating the walls around me, and me soaking wet and confused about time. There was something existential in it, a sense of urgent anxiety welling up within me and pushing me to escape the beasts lurking on the stairs. Disoriented, I wrenched the key in the lock and fought my way into my four walls, flipped the light switch and stood with my back to the door, taking in the familiar details of my rooms, the little proofs that I had indeed been there before. That I was home.

Maybe you’ve never had moments like this. I personally hadn’t had one in a very long time. (more…)

Since I am obvioulsy finding it difficult to post any amazing, astounding, “really deep” thoughts of my own these days, I’ve decided to exploit other people’s. Here are two bites I came across recently that got me thinking…

For those looking for a spiritual reality check:

“As long as man mistrusts his Creator he will in his anxiety for himself and his goods be unable to do anything in all his service of others but serve himself.”

-From Christ and Culture by H. Richard Niebuhr, Chapter 5, Section III. “Dualism in Luther and Modern Times”

And for those more literary types looking for kindling:

“If I’m going to set the literary world on fire, the only way to do it is to rub one word against another.”

-From Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner

Buon appetito.

“Why were you reading a book on sex and marriage?” my friend asked me.

Three of us single IBCB ladies were sitting around after a rousing game of Boggle, discussing things like modesty, men, and Martin Luther. I’d brought up a tidbit of info on Luther’s view of marriage that I’d gleaned from a book I’d been smuggled online: Sex and the Supremacy of Christ. I answered my friend’s question with a description of a “free book” offer I’d stumbled upon in the blogosphere: read an advance digital copy of this Piper Ministries book, post a review of it on your blog, and in return get a free, old-fashioned paper copy of the published work. Not a bad deal. But I don’t think it really got to the heart of my friend’s question; after all, it didn’t explain why I, a single, Christian girl with no immediate or even long-term prospects for marriage, would want a free copy of a book about sex and marriage in the first place. (more…)

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Well, August has pretty much gone up in dust, so I guess I can post my final blog for the summer summaries. I started off the beginning of this series talking about how I had no desire to return to routine, responsibility, and other forms of reality; I officially negate that paragraph. I’m suddenly more than ready to get up and go. I’m ready for cool, crisp days, vivid fall sunsets, and other seasonal joys like pumkins, first frosts, and caramel apple ciders. But more than that, I am itching to get moving, to straighten out the affairs I’ve let curl and smolder in a pile in the dimmest corner of my brain, clear out the clutter in mind and body, and do some things. As in, accomplish something. And not just anything; I’ve got a few specifics in mind. Lord willing in the months to come I’ll have more to write about our annual IBCB fall student furniture and household goods giveaway, new Bible studies and church family or friends, happenings I anticipate surrounding our blossoming church youth group, and, on a more personal note, my continued pursuit of biblical counseling training and certification with the National Association of Nouthetic Counselors. (more…)

The following is a continuation of my previous post, Dishrag Summer Part I, in which I summarize what happened in June. This post is about July. Sorry about the length, but just mind you, I have a lot more I COULD have said about these happenings ;o) So, enjoy!

A couple of days following the second midnight beach run of the season, we pulled off a smashing 4th of July celebration down along the Charles River. (Most photos/links courtesy Malita Matzko.) Allie and I camped out early that morning with blankets and food and frisbees and waited for various friends and church members to arrive later in the afternoon. We ended up with a decent group of people and even made some new friends. One couple was particularly nice and said they’d like to see us back there, same time, same place next year. Another man said he’d sat in that very spot along the river for the past five ears after years and years of looking for the perfect spot. So we may see him again next time, too. Our spot was on the Cambridge side of the river, right along a sloping grassy bank along the water. We had an amazing view of the Boston skyline, and ended up with more elbow room than we’d bargained for. No obst vws, and the Lord on top of all of these blessings provided us with one of the clearest, pleasantly warm (as opposed to sweltering-hot, humid, or hazy) Independence Days I can recall. We hung out, shared food, played in the road, and awaited the fireworks. Boston’s show is famous for its length and complexity; the Boston Pops put on a concert all day and then, when the fireworks start, they are coordinated with the music. We were too far away from the Hatch Shell to hear the music ourselves, but thanks to modern inventions like the radio, we didn’t miss out. I think my favorite parts of the evening were friends in general, Mandy’s finger-lickin’ good “black rice” (you have to try this stuff; the rice itself is actually an inky bluish-black color, and Mandy cooks it in a traditional Chinese way with chicken and vegetables…it’s just good; I don’t know how else to describe it!) and that time of evening when the sun is setting and casts a copper glow over the water and ignites the cityscape so that everything looks like it could be on fire. My favorite time of day, hands down. It was a memorable Fourth. (more…)