Our view

We can see the tippity top of the Sears Tower from our back stairwell.

See it now? 

(Oh, it's called the Willis Tower now?  That can't be right...)

Weekend

  I didn't celebrate the first weekend of autumn with a pumpkin spice latte or homemade soup.

I didn't even put away my summer clothes.

Josh opened the windows to let in a brisk breeze, and I set upon some Sunday afternoon cookie-bakin'.

My problem with Pinterest

I have been wanting to write this post for a long time.

Let me start by saying this: I like Pinterest. It is a valuable, amazing resource. When I first opened my Pinterest account, I wanted my mentality toward the site to reflect intentionality and purpose. I also intended to limit the time I spent on the site. Instead, this happened:  

Click on the image for its source.

That psychotic little dude is me. Seriously. I just don't seem to have the self-discipline to use Pinterest in the resourceful way that I intended. My binges on the site have affected me in a strange, almost inexplicable way. I talked to two of my friends, Annie and Donna, who use Pinterest regularly and also happen to be tremendous thinkers. I am compelled to analyze this, to write about it, to speak truthfully about the website that I have mindlessly plunged into.

1.  Does viewing the pictures on Pinterest cause discontent in me?

Annie said something to this effect, "Pinterest is a virtual world in which we pinners can live vicariously. We can design our dream life, and it puts us in greater control of the story than reading cheap fiction. It feels more interactive and real than reading a book, but in the end, it is just as fictional." She and I agreed that Pinterest can quickly become an "outlet for our discontented spirits."  It is virtual self-improvement. Most days, I am fairly dissatisfied with my clothes and with my ability to style my hair. (Seriously, who has time for those elaborate fishtail braids?!) If I am flustered with my look, I can create an alternate look on Pinterest. A better one. My pins can scream to the world, "See? I have great taste!" I find myself pinning more, more, more... more beautiful images to label as my own, as an extension of myself. The pins reflect who I wish to be.

Now, Pinterest doesn't affect everyone that way. For Donna, the site just gives her inspiration for projects. Sometimes she actually gets up and does starts the project right then, or else she'll scribble the idea down on a notepad. Intentionality. Purpose. She writes, "If Pinterest arouses a sense of discontent in you, is it a godly discontent or an ungodly one? If it inspires you to pursue improvement in good ways, ways that are healthy and God-glorifying, it is good."

2.  Is there something else I should be doing with my time?   

My honest answer is, "Yeah, usually." There are many books and blogs that I could be reading, plenty of projects I could be working on, letters to write, recipes to try. Donna agrees, "I have come to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment at the end of a day more than the temporary pleasure of indolence." 

Now, what?

Well, I'm not deleting my Pinterest account. Not yet. I did remove the bookmark from my browser to put the site "out of sight, out of mind." I'm also approaching my time on Pinterest by asking myself, "What do I like about this image, and what does it say about who I wish to be? How can I actually employ this idea, rather than pinning and forgetting?" I told Annie, "I think it's possible to be a participant and a critic."

What has your experience with Pinterest been like?

If I had to choose one

"Truth is always from God no matter where you find it," writes Dr. Rosalie de Rosset. This hymn, originally titled "Song for the Fountain Opened," is my favorite poem. It breaks me every time.

There is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains

The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day
And there may I, though vile as he
Wash all my sins away

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power
'Til all the ransomed church of God
Be saved to sin no more

When this poor, lisping, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave
Then in a nobler, sweeter song
I'll sing Thy power to save

And since by faith I saw the stream
Thy dying wounds supply
Redeeming love has been my theme
And shall be 'til I die

William Cowper (1731-1800)

9/11 Memorial

Last October, Josh and I flew to New York to spend time with our sisters in Manhattan.  During our stay, Josh and I stood in line to visit the 9/11 Memorial.

I visited Ground Zero with my family in 2002, when I was only 12 years old. The debris was still being carted away. The area was sectioned off with crude, cloaked, chain-link fences, fences which were adorned with a seemingly endless tribute to lost loved ones. I will never forget the "MISSING" posters, the personal photos, the images of Christ bleeding on the cross, the fading flowers which were looped through the fence, the handwritten notes and newspaper clippings which were smeared and crinkled by the rain. It was disturbing. It was real.

Visiting the completed 9/11 Memorial with Josh was a different experience. The site was cleaned up, renewed, and reborn, the frightening graveyard now a place of solace for the broken. As we walked slowly along the fountains and ran our hands over the names (all those names), I couldn't help but notice the aura of the place. It was noticeably quiet, reverent, hopeful.

Joe Daniels, President of the 9/11 Memorial, writes, "Today, we honor the thousands of innocent men, women, and children who were taken from us too soon eleven years ago. Here at the 9/11 Memorial in New York City, we will read their names aloud. We will stand together in silence at six moments, marking when the Twin Towers were struck, the buildings fell, the Pentagon was attacked, and Flight 93 crashed in a Pennsylvania field. Together, we will remember the devastating loss and reflect on the preciousness of life."

He concludes, "On this eleventh anniversary of the September 11 attacks, please join me in remembering those who were lost and how we came together to honor them in the aftermath. Our thoughts and prayers are with their families. The memories of their loved ones live on in our hearts and in the Memorial that bears their names. They will never be forgotten."

Never forget.

Back to my roots

My childhood best friend got married this weekend! I flew home to North Carolina and had the honor of standing up as one of her bridesmaids. I can't wait to share the official photographs later on! Her wedding was gorgeous, and the reception was so much fun!

I stayed with my family for the weekend, sleeping in a twin bed in my old bedroom. I'm not going to lie... it felt a little surreal! Despite the busyness of the rehearsal and the wedding day, I was able to sing at my home church on Sunday and spend a quiet afternoon with my parents and younger siblings. It was fun, it was restful, and it was restorative.

I was able to revisit who I was and who I am. I spent the majority of my adolescence attending that church and school, growing up in that house, living amongst those faces. Although Josh and I spent the first few years of our dating relationship in North Carolina, that season now feels distant. Chicago is an entirely different world. I love it here and I thrive here, but I cannot sever my identity from the places I have been, the places where my spiritual mind was developed, my heart stolen, enduring friendships made. North Carolina holds my affections in an irreplaceable way.

I have to admit, though... at the end of the weekend, when I looked out the airplane window and beheld the Chicago skyline glittering in the sun, my heart leapt and I smiled. I was almost home.