the park

Today I took my anonymous charges to the park for a picnic dinner. I had three of them, and the littlest guy is two and a half.

So he's playing on the merry-go-round and all these seven year old boys in soccer uniforms come up and jump on the thing and my little charge starts to push them. Pretty good speed, too. They were pretty much ignoring him until one of the cleated demi-athletes says, "Man, you a Cubs fan? That's awesome." My guy said, "uh huh!" and proudly lifted his capped head to smile at all those big boys. Who continued to ignore him. Then another said, "He's pretty strong for a little dude." Beaming, my charge replied, "Yeah, I's pretty strong," and proceeded to push with determination, laughing and grunting and laughing. The boys started paying more attention, asking him for a turn, helping him get on and off, and generally making sure they didn't run him over. He was in his element.

I think I learned a little something about men today. They totally open up and strive when men (or seven-year-olds) they look up to encourage and accept them. I know I see this in my guy. Am I on to something?

sobriety

so·bri·e·ty

1.	the state or quality of being sober.

2.	temperance or moderation, esp. in the use of alcoholic beverages.

3.	seriousness, gravity, or solemnity: an event marked by sobriety.

I looked into a sobering reality last week. Jimi Allen Photgraphy, the same people that put together girl. ( check out the previous post) created a photography show featuring portraits and stories of people who have no home. It's titled sobriety.

Going through the show, I was incredibly struck by how human we all are. Whether we live in an Oak Park mansion or under a Cicero bridge, we are all broken. We are all human. We all hurt...and so often we all ignore the hurt of everyone sitting around us. I cried looking into those faces.

I was struck with a feeling of lonliness. In a crowded room, surrounded by people, I felt disconnected. God didn't make people to have be acquaintances. He made them to love each other. Intimate, transparent. Crying with the hurt, mourning with the grieving, giving to the hungry, even until we are hungry ourselves. But we are hurt. Broken. And a fragmented heart is not conducive to giving. It is afraid. We become afraid and then we do not love. And when we do not love, we are alone. This is not what Jesus meant for his children.

Yesterday I started reading Sex God by Rob Bell, pastor up at Mars Hill in Michigan. He writes about the incredible value of humanity. Bearers of the image of God. Beautiful, precious treasures, who are so often mistreated. Why? Because things are not as they should be. We all know that. We are born with an ache in our hearts that never goes away. An ache to be in a community, to be intimate, to be connected. To love each other deeply. Like Jesus.

Let's start. Today.

hope
–noun

1.	the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.

–verb

6.	to look forward to with desire and reasonable confidence.

7.	to believe, desire, or trust.