These Birks Were Made for Walking

Today, my friends, is First Birk! As I do every year, I shall explain, because I understand that when one creates a holiday, of which they are the solitary celebrant, others cannot be expected to understand the jubilation and import of the event without a little context. And so, the context:

I own a pair of Birkenstock sandals for which I have a great deal of affection. First Birk falls on that first glorious spring day when I decide it's warm enough to bring my Birkenstocks out of the winter slumber of my closet and bare my (pale, admittedly in desperate need of a pedicure) toes to the sunshine.

Thanks to the unpredictable weather in Chicago, it's hard to know when First Birk will arrive. For example, last year First Birk fell on March 25th when it was a crazy 81 degrees. This year spring has been elusive, but this morning I determined that today's projected high of 62 was warm enough to warrant breaking out my beloved cork and leather sandals.

Today my Birks enter their 8th season. I purchased this pair of faithful footwear in Austria during my semester abroad. I finally found them after a long day of shopping, once I figured out that prouncing the brand name with a German accent (BEER-kehn-schtOHk) as opposed to how most Americans say it (Ber-kin-stahk) did wonders when asking shopkeepers whether or not they carried the object of my shopping desire.

From that day spent wandering around Salzburg until now, these sandals have seen a lot. They've walked down the street on 3 continents and in over a dozen states. They've ridden a camel with me in Morrocco. They've hiked through the woods, walked along the beach, been caught in the rain and sloshed through puddles. Someday they will wear out and I will be forced to retire them, but until I am compelled to do so, each spring I will celebrate First Birk and look forward to the adventures they'll see that year.

Food for Thought

"To be transformed by Christ, to be in community—family, friends, strangers; the local church and the universal church, the body of Christ—is humbling, often mundane, sometimes bewildering, yet also glorious." - John Wilson

Minestrone Musings

It's Monday afternoon. I'm sitting at my desk, enjoying a bowl of semi-homemade minestrone, appreciating the flavors hitting my taste buds, the sunshine warming the brick wall visible outside my window, and the fact that I have half an hour to muse and reflect on life before work bids me back.

Yesterday at church, Andi sang Matt Redman's "God of Our Yesterdays" for the offertory. I'd never heard the song before, but as I sat there and listened, I absorbed the lyrics and felt them resonate within me. (You can read them below, and listen to the song on Matt's myspace page.)

Recent developments in my life have seemed to amplify my awareness of yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Getting to know someone means sharing a lot about where you come from...the people, places, and events of your past that have shaped who you are today. And then there's the joy of simply being with that person today, fully engaged in the moment at hand, astounded at the gift of walking down the street, and through life, hand in hand with a person such as this. And then there are all the thoughts and hopes and dreams for the future, for what tomorrow might hold, for what we might see and do and become, both individually and together.

In one of her songs, Sara Groves sings, "And I just showed up for my own life / and I'm standing here taking it in and it sure looks bright / I'm going to live my life inspired / Look for the holy in the commonplace / Open the windows and feel all that's honest and real until I'm truly amazed / ... Oh the glory of God is man fully alive."

I'm feeling on the same page with Sara today. The past few weeks and months have been for me a time of coming alive. Of waking up to Christ in me, the hope of glory (Col 1:27). Of thanking God for His grace in my yesterdays. Of praising Him for His peace in my heart today. Of trusting him, with joy, as tomorrow comes.

God of Our Yesterdays by Matt Redman
We were in the darkest night
And wondered if our eyes would ever see the light
You were there, Lord
We were in the storm again
And wondered if we’d ever live in peace again
You were there, Lord

You were there in the struggle
You were there in the fight
You were there all the time

We praise you, the God of our yesterdays
We praise you, the God who is here today
We praise you, our God, as tomorrow comes

So whatever lies ahead
Whatever roads our grateful hearts will come to tread
You’ll be there, Lord
And we will fix our eyes on you
And know that there is grace enough to see us through
You’ll be there, Lord

You’ll be there in the struggle
You’ll be there in the fight
You’ll be there all the time

We praise you, the God of our yesterdays
We praise you, the God who is here today
We praise you, our God, as tomorrow comes

We thank you for grace in our yesterdays
We thank you for peace in our hearts today
We thank you, our joy, as tomorrow comes
We will trust you, God

You’re always closer than we know
Always more involved and in control
We will trust our lives to you
The One who was, and is, and is to come!

We praise you, the God of our yesterdays
We praise you, the God who is here today
We praise you, our God, as tomorrow comes

We thank you for grace in our yesterdays
We thank you for peace in our hearts today
We thank you, our joy, as tomorrow comes
We will trust you, God

Apostrophes Matter

Humble apostrophe
How you are mishandled, abused
Neglected and misunderstood
You create such meaning
Taking the place of absent letters
Indicating possession
Without you is confusion
Let us be clear
Yes, let’s!
The apostrophe must be respected.

Does the fact that punctuation inspires me to craft poetry on its behalf make me a nerd? Perhaps. Okay, yes. But I will gladly take on that label if it means defending the cause of the apostrophe, the comma, and my personal favorite, the semi-colon. (Yes, I know, the fact that I even HAVE a favorite punctuation mark has "nerd" written all over it.)

Nevertheless, the fact that apostrophes really do matter is today painfully clear to Mr. Lou Cella, the sculptor who fashioned the new statue of Ernie Banks that was unveiled at Wrigley Monday. Engraved on the granite base is the inscription, "LETS PLAY TWO."

When asked about the missing apostrophe, Cella said, "I'm the sculptor, I'm not a writer." The Cubs have vowed that it will be fixed before the Cubs are back in town for their next home game. "We'll put in the most beautiful apostrophe you ever saw," Cella said.

See, now he gets it--apostrophes don't just matter, they can be downright beautiful.

Click here to read the article about it in the Chicago Tribune.