One of each...
This only seems to happen when Cory is around.
Step 1: wrap something around your head.
Step 2: Put your finger in your nose.
Step 3: Take photo.
Step 4: Repeat.
I know I am going to catch hell for this one, but sleeping with kleenex in your nose is just so cute... but only when you are sick.

a day in the life of.

feb. 1st - the catastrophy

Almost-whole-wheat with apricot goodness.

Polish Fat Tuesday delights.

Polish Fat Tuesday delights.

Polish + bakery = mmmmmm!

Polish + hummus = hmmm.....

Hummus 1 : Jessica 0 : Table 0 : Spoon -1

All you have to do is ask...

Strange Local Flags



Laundry day in the DeBoni/Rozga household means throwing everything in a bucket of detergent, rinsing it in the tub, and hanging it in the kitchen.

Don't get any ideas...

Now don't start thinking that this is a sign that I have started wearing the lipstick in the family.

A new idea.

We have not done a very good job of posting lately, so here is a new idea. Jess wants reasons to practice with our camera, and I like taking random photos. Thus begins the photo-of-the-day portion of this blog.

More than likely this will turn into something more akin to a photo-of-every-3rd-or-4th-day, but at least we are trying.

Today's entrant:

Christmas Delight + New Year's Snow

We have had such a delightful Christmas hanukkah. Beginning with packages in the mail form friends and family to nice long visits with parents and friends from out-of-town. We have had the opportunity to meet new neighbors, celebrate with older friends and come together under the same roof with many Beloved. Through it all we were not the most diligent in remembering our camera. Therefore, the photos are far, few and in between... but for those times in between...

A few days before Christmas some of the little ones came over to decorate cookies and bake muffins with us for the neighbors... it was an all day event and oh my were we ever exhausted! In the end though were smiling faces...


sprinkles that we were picking up on the bottoms of our bare feet for days (read: I'm not he most diligent home-maker)...





and frosting coating the rims of the sink, bridges of the doorways and smeared misterious masterpieces throughout the carpet to add to the beauty.


Christmas Eve we spent playing dominoes with Abuela and her 86 yr. old neighbor who triumphed over anyone in their path to victory. Filled to the brim with chicken, beans, rice and Rosa's delights we headed home to sleep only to wake and find these treasures under our palm tree: a new motorcycle helmet + toasty bathrobe for cold mornings. After our warm breakfast we headed back to the Navarro's for gifts only to make our way back into our home that afternoon for the Ortiz's + fam. to come over and open gifts as well.

Soon after they left, came back and left again Jake and I prepared a feast: spaghetti, fruit salad, green beans from this summer, rotisserie chicken (from Jewel - cornish hens were requested: I laughed at the request), pierogies + sourkraut, cranberry stuffing and a plate of sweets stolen from other neighbors. Together that afternoon into the evening we spent with Eddie at his home, eating, laughing and learning how to be present. Christmas was not without sorrow - our neighbor Nora was punched by her boyfriend over a T.V. and Hilda, who had a period of sobriety, went back to using once again. It was an honor to learn from Eddie on such a holy day how to be present, regardless of time or circumstance.

That evening in 35 degree weather we went for a nice long motorcycle ride and delighted in one another and the gifts we have been given by simply being able to celebrate in the birth of Christ with His most Beloved.

The weekend following my parents came to celebrate the birth of Christ with us by honoring us with many gifts, including Memory (which Jake and I played for far too long this evening). Thanks mom & dad - wish I had a better picture from this weekend to post but you have all the good ones :)

New Years Eve we headed to Indiana to spend the evening and following day with Grandma. With cheese, wine and a late night James Taylor tribute we brought in the new year only to be surprised the next day with over a foot of snow to awake and enchant us with.







Jake & Grandma













Tool shed











Grandma plowing












I've never had so much fun cleaning off a conglomeration of metal in my life.










Sneaking a peak at Grandma.








P.S. Christmas cards are still on the way - I just couldn't bring myself to send them out on time. I couldn't break tradition.

stealing thoughts:
I read the following article a couple weeks ago when i was beginning to contemplate how I felt as through God wanted us to go about communicating with others this coming year. should we continue blogging? if so, how much? for what purpose? under what conditions? we're not traveling anymore, and really - that was the sexy appeal to reading of our ramblings.

so here is my adaptation of the article cited earlier to help explain and put structure to these tangential thoughts and musings.

"(with many personal adaptations - just thought I would put the quotes here to make sure you all know that I am not this fluid with my words - these are mostly the words of others) Back when "blog" was a typo, I journaled. Since taking up this little bit of writing as means of sharing my thoughts on matters, developing ideas, and seeking to generate discussions on matters of love, community, poverty, politics, etc., I'm journaling substantially less. In fact, I'm really not journaling at all.

Lately though, I'm feeling the need to journal prayers because blogging is a little bit like public speaking: there's only so much you can write before it becomes an unhealthy dumping ground, which we all know I have utilized this space in the past for. And the very act of limiting disclosure creates an even greater necessity for a platform where one can be honest with God. The Psalmist calls this pouring out his heart. And the Psalmists, both David and others, did it well. The full range of doubt, fear, anger, praise, rest, trust, gratitude, awareness of beauty and ugliness, pain and healing, are all expressed, directly to God. I wonder: if David had known his work would be published, would he have been as open?

The danger with blogging instead of journaling, or keeping facebook instead of having people over for supper, is that these pixel and byte sized versions of ourselves can easily become confused with our real selves. But they never are.

My real self right now is profoundly moved by the beautiful early mornings, before the sun is up, because the air is invigorating and cold, and the hints of impending long winter genuinely create joy within. But I'm also profoundly aware of my own struggles and doubts right now, mostly centered around feelings of inadequacy for my calling to love my neighbors as much as I love myself. I know the right answers; know that God's strength is made perfect in our weakness. And yet... I just feel awkward, even though I'm truly excited about the ever increasing communication and small miracles being demonstrated and the potential behind it. I'm also simply just experiencing an indescribable joy in response the out-pouring of grace, love and honor that has been given to both of us by our family, friends, neighbors, students, clients & co-workers. We also have been learning how to live within and gain energy from the struggles, anxieties, worries, grief and brokenness of those same very people. This area is affecting me more deeply than I'd care to admit, because I'm finding myself desperately wanting to make each day stretch longer, involve more love, be able to give more, give better. Yet, its precisely because of this that I have been biting off too much that seems 'important'. When I do this two things happen: 1) I feel so overwhelmed that I'm not certain what to actually do in the next moment. Long 'to do' lists of 'things' having a paralyzing effect on me sometimes, and 2) Relationships suffer. This bothers me, and I'm in the midst of talking with God about it.

That's why I'm going to begin limiting entries like this one today, with an effort to make them a rare platform and more less a sharing ground for you to see pictures and enjoy the light of our lives. I want to talk with you all more often, and if not talk - write personally. All other things, it seems to me at this time, belong in a journal. I'm thinking of the story of Moses, when the children of Israel, having been delivered from Egypt, are complaining to Moses because they think they're about to die. (Exodus 14) He speaks boldly in front of Israel, but it's clear that when he's along with God he pours his heart out, which apparently included his own doubts Moses isn't being two people - he's simply being discreet about where he expresses certain things.

I'm not even certain why I'm writing this entry, other than a desire to share with you that this isn't the platform where I'm going to pour my heart out any longer. I am different than movie and book reviews, ideas about the kingdom, politics and economics, hiking trails (although there are times when I feel most at home and like who I was created to be when I am hiking). I'll still blog because I think talking points on matters where love and God intersects life are important, and because I want to share what I'm learning through various experiences in hopes that others might learn too. But I am not my blog. I refuse to have a deeper relationship with a box and keys than with you."

On a side note:
We decided this year that we were going to gift our neighbors with love. making dozens and dozens of various flavors, types, combinations of muffins to give. Books are also flooding in for the kids; a couple other randoms for others including $10 worth of lotto tickets for Abuela; and amaryllis indoor growing kits for our widows, not to be confused with windows.

A couple pictures for the past month:

: jake's brother jason came down for a visit to pick up his new bike, not to be confused with our new bike covered up in the backdrop :

: yes, we went thrift store shopping. yes, I got a pretty dress & yes, jake bought a real chicago fireman jacket. his reasoning, "why wouldn't you buy a jacket that's wind proof, water proof, fire proof & high visibility." right. :

: Edgar & Jiaya on a lazy Saturday afternoon :

: the kids have been doing things around our home and for the neighbors to earn money for Christmas gifts. now i am beginning to see the perks of having kids of our own. for only $2 we got our entire 10' X 10' kitchen floor swept & scrubbed. we paid another $2 for the bathtub and toilet. yes, we had them clean our toilet :

: flip it yourself if possible - Christmas with the DeBoni's. Motorcycle jackets that honestly keep me toasty - a hard feat - and hot chocolate. Thanks parents! :

: Christmas lights at Lincoln Park Zoo :

: ...with the kids. and note: upon arrival, you receive these... :

: ...which allow you to see this! :

: and then there was Santa. A really skinny Santa :

P.S. We've also attempted to be diligent in "forgetting" our camera. sometimes memories are better left inside the imagination i believe.

Posting from this time last year:

Although the "Holiday Season" has begun to manifest itself through most every human possible means (this is of coarse a guess, I am living in an Arabic community!)... I was just thinking about alternative possibilities to giving to others, outside of any material gift (again - I do have to admit, we did send our families gifts this year)... here are a few ideas I thought you may be interested in-

Sewa-Ashram is a Christ-centered community dedicated to the practical application of spirituality to the reality of suffering, present amongst the poor. Their mission is to provide long-term holistic care and professional treatment for the sick and dying destitute of Delhi's streets.

International Justice Mission is an organization that works to defend the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the slave. With just a small donation you can sponsor a day’s wages for an investigative worker ($50), legal advocate ($70), or social worker ($40). You can find these, and many other ways to give under the GIVE index, found in the top right corner.

World Hope International works to relieve suffering around the world by offering a care package to a woman who has survived sexual trafficking ($60) or provide a microcredit loan ($100).

Mennonite Central Committee offers a Christmas Giving Catalog which includes possible gifts such as giving $26 to provide kitchen supplies to a displaced family in Cambodia.

Samaritan’s Purse offers numerous opportunities to give to others in third world countries. One example of an offering is by donating just $9 you can feed a hungry baby for a week.

United Methodist Committee on Relief works to serve others by offering financial support to others. Their gift catalog includes offering $37 to a child in South Sudan to feed them a meal every school day for six months.

World Vision offers a number of opportunities to give through their Christmas catalog.

Catholic Relief Services - Wow! Withe just $13 you can immunize a child in the developing world against measles, diphtheria, whooping cough, polio, tetanus, AND tuberculosis.

Alterna works with and advocates for immigrants in situations that are often egregiously unjust. Immigrants are not allowed to acquire driver’s licenses, yet they are allowed to purchase cars and get jobs they need to drive to. One working poor immigrant has paid over $2,000 in fines for simply driving without a license. Help Alterna turn what is exploitation of the poor into an act of civil disobedience and solidarity! Donate $1-$150 to help immigrants "Drive in Peace." To order this or other gifts, email or phone (706-302-9661) Alterna.

Hope each of you are enjoying this beautiful Advent Season...

additional P.S. - if you have a specific "type" of organization you would like to give to but have idea of where to begin looking, drop us a note or an e-mail and we'll do our best to help you out during the most beautiful season of giving!

Thoughts from a Chicago-based ESL teacher...





Happy Thanksgiving.

edgar.
calls often.

he just got his first pay check for playing the Oscar Meyer Weiner and bought a PSP.

when we were getting off the phone right now (10 pm) we told, as always, that we love him.

Edgar's response, "yeah, I know you do."

yummm.

children of God = our God children.

the entire family - husband/father

the building mud pie dinosaurs

continued

absolute joy

entire family + one photo-unhappy babe

if you have a little time & want a little fun take a visit to Free Rice

it's 7ish in the morning.

Carter is off to bed. Asheley & the babe are still in bed. Doug has chelloed off to his new job at the paper mill and here Maya & I sit watching Sesame Street.

Breakfast has been had and I'm just awaiting the moment Asheley comes down and says, "Let's make some coffee."

Watching Maya is amazing. I wonder if she knows how much she rolls around from one side of her belly to the next. How often she lifts her legs in the air and scratched her tenderonies. How often she reaches into the sky as though it was hers to control.

What happened just moments ago though trumped all the cuteness that has ever seeped from her skin & personality.

Just moments ago, as I was watching her eat her bagel and watch T.V. I witnessed her bend over in her kiddie-sized chair and let out the absolute longest toot I have ever heard. What followed though - unbelievable!

Maya, my precious god-daughter stood up,
turned around,
bent down,
put her face to the chair
and took a big ole' sniff of her own fart up into her nostrils.

Big ole' sniff of her own omitted gas.

She is absolutely amazing & I can't say I wouldn't have done the same if I didn't know the median of cultural norms. Oh to be a kid again.

A wee little neighbor of ours would like to play you a song.



Jake and Jess

hide & go seek.
it's been ages.

yet, tonight, that's what i play. it's who i am.

after sunday's melting, jake and i decided that i need a night. one night each week that i have no one over & rest. rest my mind. rest my hands. rest my ears.

although this task may seem quite easy to some, in this household, for these walls - hiding is not an easy task. jake and i have both heard statements leak form the mouths of babes & adults alike, "i saw your shades were up, so i knew you were home" to "jessica! the lights are on in your house, i know you're home." - i was, just on the toilet when they came a knockin'.

so tonight i play. hide. it's their turn to seek.

i came home to a dark house with my husband waiting inside. after a much desired kiss he took me into he kitchen where dinner was in mid-preparation and the water was hot - ready for tea/hot cocoa. at that time a flashlight was placed in my hand and his familiar voice asked me to "have a good night." that statement has never fallen on my ears with such weight. such release.

the kids came a knockin' - so i crawled around our apartment, with hopes that they wouldn't hear the floor boards creek or see my shadow dance on the walls from the neighbors flood lights (ah - light pollution, how i hate you!). I listened to the variety of songs our plug-in door chime has & dashed around our apartment, ensuring no sounds were made to clue them off as to my existence, my trick, my hide, their seek.

they left, seven rug-burn minutes later.

tonight i'm taking a night off. maybe a night for a movie. maybe a night for...

regardless, this typing in the dark is making my eyes bleed and this portion of my night must end.

thank yous.

you see, i have a stack of thank you cards. literally a stack.
a good big toe (measured length wise) size in depth.
all fully written thank yous.
well, 95% written out.
95% addressed (all addresses obtained months ago).
only 10% with postage.

all of them over 3 months due, and that's being quite liberal in the turn over rate of gift given and a one month leeway.

garbage side: they're still not out & that, as an unintended consequence, makes me feel like a big glob of applesauce.

pleasant side: because i'm negligent in sending these initial well intentioned notes, i think of each and every one of you almost everyday. really.

worst side: one of these letters in a sympathy note. on that note, i think it may just be the best one to delay. so often i have found people get inundated with cards immediately following the death of their loved one and one week/month later, their loss is often slighted with everyday everydayness.

ugh - i am my mother's daughter.

edgar is over. looking up stories of validation that his high school is haunted.
we love him. so much.

p.s. related to toes: new found glory. where were these when i was wearing trouser socks everyday?

something new.

it's a bit campy - but it works for the "right now."

working with a daily (read: semi-daily) inventory. i know asheley, i know.

it's a messy process. so messy in fact that it's not even addressed until Step 10 in the 12 Steps of Recovery.

still, i know i need to do this. i need, at this time in the "right now," to take time and give myself and my beloved an assessment of where i am. so i've started here.

for the next "while" - whatever while really means i'm going to answer the following questions, with trust in God and a hope of honesty placed within this "self" that through this daily inventory i may be lead to understand a little bit more where this "self" is going through all this messiness.

• what is frustrating me now?
• what am i angry about?
• what am i scared of?
• what am i dreading?
• what am i anxious about?
• what concerns me?
• what is the smallest thing that i feel dumb about even writing down but it is actually stressing me out?
• what am i looking forward to?
• today?
• tomorrow?
• this year?

so we'll see what happens.

only God knows - maybe. this whole free will thing just may be getting in the way of His ability to know my future.

maybe.

sorry about the deep-press.

i'm going to have to try something new.

in the 12 step program they give this definition of insanity - "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

summary - i'm insane. really.

i have to force myself to rest. i also really need to force myself to blog more often - when things are good. not deep-pressing. sorry about that, i'll do better. Insha'Allah.

i've been feeling whipped lately. i think it's all part of a greater pulse pressing on all sides, beginning to vibrate all that i have found makes me who i am.

i haven't figured anything out yet but i figured this: i am still grieving. ugh.

i believe i have shared this not so profound thought before, but after my melt-down on saturday, with it's fresh pain still a little too close for comfort, i figured it may be worth it to mention it once again.

so with that "once again..." let me give a little e-d-u: probably the most well-known authors who speaks of grief might be from Elizabeth Kubler-Ross who wrote "On Death and Dying." in it, she identified five stages that a dying patient experiences when informed of their terminal prognosis.

the stages Kubler-Ross identified are as follows:

stage 1 ± denial - check. "i'm not crazy. everyone else thinks this way, don't they? please, someone tell me i'm not alone in all this. please tell me you think these thoughts too. please!"

stage 2 ± anger - check. "why do i feel so absolutely crazy?!? why do i hate cars, hate money, hate clothes, dishes, the availability of water, the abuse of energy, the bickering of intellects, the idols of fashion. why do i feel angry simply allowing myself to be angry!"

stage 3 ± bargaining - check. "maybe i won't feel so ape if i give all my money away, make all my own clothes, eat only what's 99 cents or below & give all my time to my neighbors. yeah! that's it! let the craziness be gone!"

stage 4 ± depression - check. "i'm done. i still feel unhinged & unzipped, nutty & unbalanced. why do i care so deeply but feel like it's slowly destroying me. ugh. i'm done."

stage 5 ± acceptance - check. "saturday. not fully here yet but feeling more at rest with where He has me at this time. still feeling a little unstable, but i guess that comes with the territory of me allowing the messiness of Christ's blood to flow inside me."

although i'm not dying (thank you God - although let it be known I would be okay if i was...i think) i, thanks to the help of pastor Guizar, have come to discover once again that life is just one continuous messy sequence of events & experiences that dance in the abyss of celebration & grief. time and time again. we all are in a constant state of celebration & grief. not just to be pinned on those who are physically dying or grieving the loss of someone who has physically died, but everyone who breathes & loves, letting their bodies, soul, heart and mind experience life to it's fullest capacity, which i - by the way, have by no means done.

on that note: it's a grilled cheese and tomato soup night and my beloved is due home soon.

a slurry of jumbled thoughts.

as of late i have been confronted with a slurry of thoughts, tears, realizations, confrontations, questions and hopes.

i have realized that i make decisions in partnership with Guilt.

jake & I bought a motorcycle today. in fact, at this moment he is driving his Suzuki V-Stom home from Minneapolis, MN. We've been putting this idea around for a number of months now. weighing the pros against the cons - setting into motion the ever developing conflict within regarding the stewardship of finances and figuring out what not only what works best for us, but what works best for His Kingdom. in reeling through the demons gawking and babbling in my mind i was given the discovery of that nasty "G" word - the word that keeps so me so often immobilized from objective decision making = Guilt. my affair.

i take short showers (most of the time) because my neighbors in Africa are dying due to lack of water. i don't buy "stuff" anymore not wholly inpart because i don't want to but because I can't bring myself to spend money in such a way when women on the corner of cicero & armitage sell their bodies, their spirits for just enough money to feed their children. widows next door are hungry because our promised social security is not enough for her to live on. because day laborers here in Chicago, IL only receive $50 a day. that's just over $18,000 if they work 365 days, no days off while their wives & children live without the paternal figurehead of their home. because every tues. morning cute messy men comb through our garbage cans looking for wood, cooper, and food.

this is how I believe I have in part trained my brain to practice discernment, conviction, discipline. In part out of empathy, in part out of pain, in part out of hope, at times out of conviction and because Jesus says to love your neighbor as yourself. now i have realized in part because of the guilt i feel and experience each day in response to making decisions, both big & small. for some reason, i feel a part of this entire messed up system i guess, and with my decisions i don't want to short change anyone. i'm not sure what balance will find it's way into a lifestyle of mindful comfort or cease the raging unquenchable restlessness that feels so deeply buried within the fibers of my spirit but i somewhat long for the day when i can walk into the corner store to buy a loaf of bread and not think about how much better that money could have been spent of feel like i should give that money, in equal amount, to someone who really needs it.


what i do know is this, i am no different than each and every man and woman i talk with each day either on the street corners, around the neighborhoods or at Garfield Counseling Center. each day i find myself within the presence of beautiful men and women whom i know i am no different from.

i am absolutely no different from Sofia whom uses heroin as means to stitch together the deep sever of loss and grief from loosing her two only children within three months of each other. her son from an accident and her daughter from an aneurysm. her husband left her not long after. she uses because no one has yet given her permission to grieve. she needs, she longs for a friend to rest with. heroin is the perfect choice.

I am absolutely no different from Willy who has two college degrees. one in pharmaceuticals. the other in computer science. diagnosed with cancer six years ago he was forced to quit his job as a phar. sales rep. soon after he found out that he had congestive heart failure. his wife left him. he later began to experience symptoms of depression, one of which is inability to fall asleep. he then began using heroin. it was the only thing that would bring him rest.

Ruby grew up in the projects and in her words, "in a home and community of extreme violence." raped, molested, shot at, tied up, stolen from, pregnant at age 15, two children at age 17, dropped out of h.s. because her mom refused to care for her children, physically, sexually & mentally abused by her common-law husband for 17 years. of coarse she uses heroin. she now has HIV is homeless and lives off Jesus. she loves Jesus. I am absolutely no different from her.

some may question my sanity when they read that i believe that i am no different than Sofia, Willie or Ruby. because let's be honest today - i am different. i was given the tools to be different. my parents raised me in a home and community which was different. i attended a school and a church which opened my eyes to difference. yet - i know, without question or hesitation, that if i were in their situations, growing up within their homes, their communities, their schools and churches, i would have seen no other choice than to deal with loss, pain, guilt, grief or even joy & celebration for that matter, without heroin, alcohol, cocaine, marijuana, sex, potato chips or pop/soda. i digress.

so here is to gratitude. gratitude for an education and home where knowledge was nurtured and growth was encouraged. gratitude that despite my unfaithfulness, God has continued to pound His unceasing heart within me. gratitude that despite these demons dancing within - i know they are dancing within a transparent cell of serenity in which guilt can be nurtured and used as a temporary means for growth toward a deeper relationship with Christ, a deeper relationship with my neighbors, my clients and these beautiful radiating children.

endnotes:
pict. 1 - the kids couldn't handle getting their hands dirty and at first were making their way to the sink in between ever hand dip into the pumpkin to clean it's guts out. we stopped this madness after the third or so hand washing. kids these days!
pict. 2 - the final result, this really should be at the end. oh well.
pict. 3 - yummm. a gift form the rents - a handwoven basket from Ghana filled with squash & apples.
pict. 4 - jake & ethan. i think it may not be an exaggeration to say that possibly jake enjoyed gutting the pumpkins at first more than the kids.
pict. 5 - they finally got what it's all about. afterward i spent approx. 15 mins. cleaning pumpkin off the walls, chairs table & floor. we're still finding seed scattered about.

i got bit by a dog this afternoon.
first time in my life.
oh dogs.

so. i hear that there are some of you who continue to check in and watch this silly platform we stand on. you've been waiting a long time and nothing has happened. at least you know about jermaine though, and his allergy to chocolate.

yes, we are still here.
yes, we both have full-time employment (jake + 1/2 time).
yes, we are finding ourselves wicked occupied with lovely children and delightful neighbors.
yes, we are enjoying finding people we can do life with.

and because of all of the previously mentioned entertainers of time juggling through the air, no, we have not been writing. evidence provided by the date below in the last up-date.

i have to share with you though - i hate not having written to each of you in so long. i hate the distance of time that has passed since last up-dating you on the happenings not only in our life together but in the lives of our neighbors. john & elena. eddie & nora. pedro & abuela. edgar, eric, giovanni, jeremy, ethan, jermaine, kaylanie, destiny, justin, serina, kayla, stephanie, andre, etc. lani & pablo. grandma & irene. i wish that i would make the time to be more diligent in sharing their lives with you. their lives are worth talking about. much more than mine.

john & elena are doing well. now that summer is fading they aren't outside as much, i really just need to take some time and knock on their door. regardless though, they both claim to be doing well and keeping busy exchanging broken coffee grinders (elena) & trying to stay out of elena's mentally challenged son's path (john).

yesterday eddie spoke with one of the christian missionary girls who come into the inner-city from hammond, IN to "save" people and recruit them to come to their church (one hour on a bus) on sunday mornings. eddie asked one girl if she thought she was a better lover of christ than him because she was part of a congregation on sunday morning and he likes to stay home and watch football. she was silent. he asked if she thought god loved him less because he does not go to church. for all reports, she remained silent. eddie shared with her a fraction of his life and showed her the tattoo he has on his chest of Jesus with text, "only God can judge me." the missionary girl asked for his forgiveness. he accepted. she asked him if he would come to church with her after football season. he shared then basketball season would begin. she inquired about after basketball season. he said yes, in july he will go. we told him we'll be his date. later that afternoon eddie invited us up to his apartment. he wanted to show us something. in his bedroom, with pictures of 3/4 naked girls strewn about the walls, directly before his bed was a shrine set up with crosses, pictures and literature he had been given in prison. the picture alongside adored the center of his sanctuary. he shared how and why he can relate to this picture so deeply. he then led me to his devotional and showed us some verses by which he tries to life his life by. he had made notes & stars, lines & highlights by them all. eddie knew where to find what he was looking for. he had poured over this book daily as all evidence shows. he asked me if i wanted to take his book home to look over it. i told him no thank you, i didn't want to take his book away. he insisted. i asked him if he wanted to take out the sheets of paper inside on which he wrote notes. he said no. i told him i was going to read what he had written. he said that would be okay.

i am sure that eddie loves, trusts & understands the love of Jesus more than I could ever comprehend. I still have to battle the demons within me that tell me if i cuss Jesus is angry.

here is eddie though - ex-convict, 3/4 naked women hanging in his bedroom, street "square" selling, lost, found, redeemed, joyful eddie who gets the love of Jesus, knows scripture and exercises forgiveness consistently.

i hope to become more like eddie i think. aside form the 3/4 naked women hanging up in my bedroom - i think he is most whom Jesus would like for me to be. i think.

ugh - i got carried away. later, more on those mentioned above. until then...