The wise fool hits the road.

Sophomore: combo of “Soph,” which means “wise” and “moron,” which… well, we all know what that means. All credit for knowing what that means goes to Mr. Joel Solliday, who told me that at the start of my sophomore year of high school (the year we spelled it ‘sophmore’ on the sign in our hallway for homecoming week… wise fools….), and I’ve never forgotten it.

I’m in my last few minutes of being home, and I wanted you to be a part of this. I’m sitting on my bed for the last time for a couple months. From here on out, I’ll be coming to you live from a corner of the library, my bunk bed in my tiny studio apartment, or one of the many Chicago coffee shops.

I’m so at home. And by that, I mean that my sister is playing the piano (she’s practicing for a wedding tonight), my dad is still packing his bags and showering – meaning that we’ll be leaving late, and I’m tapping out a blog post.

The anxieties that prevailed in the last few days have started to subside as I collect kitchen supplies and finalize my schedule for the semester. But mostly, I’ve been learning that fear doesn’t have a place in my life. Granted, that doesn’t mean that I’ve shown it the door and switched the locks for good. I think it will take a while (if not my entire life) to overcome that. Jesus is greater than all my fears, but that doesn’t mean that I always trust Him. Yes, I do realize how ridiculous that sentence is. I was tempted to change it, but it’s true. Even though I know that God holds my entire life in His hands and walks alongside me, I still fear and still question.

I really am a wise fool. I know a truth that should overcome every anxiety I’ve ever felt and more, but I still cling to the horridness of being afraid at times. I bet you do, too.

In a few minutes, Jesus and I will take Matilda and the newly-healed Pearl and my parents, and we’ll walk out the door and drive to Chicago together. And my parents will move me in to my apartment, and they’ll leave. But Jesus will remain. My parents and sister and friends and the rest of my support system from home will be a phone call away, but Jesus will grasp my hand and never let go.

Oh, for grace to trust Him more.

Let’s hit the road.

Honest Saturday.

It’s time for some honesty. First of all, I spelled ‘honesty’ wrong the first time I typed it. Whoops.

Second, I’m not ready for school yet. I feel like it’s July (despite the perfectly fall-esque weather over the past couple weeks). I’ve done most of the things that I wanted to do this summer, but I’m still not ready for it to be over. I’m not ready to leave the comfort of a suburb where I have my schedule and my habits and my people all figured out. I’m not ready to head back into the hustle and bustle of Chicago life where I have to figure out new classes and new jobs – heck, I just finally got all settled into my summer jobs.

I’m not ready to be away from the people I know best and the comfort of having my own room and a fully stocked kitchen (that someone else stocks) at my disposal whenever I’m willing to cook. I’m not ready to leave the suburbs, where you can leave a bike parked outside a bakery without a bike lock, and it’ll likely still be there when you come back in a few minutes. I’m not ready to say goodbye to my parents and sister for two months.

But since when are you ever fully ready for the next stage of life? If I waited until I felt ready, I would never go. I could probably always think up one more thing I need to make for my apartment or one more thing I have to find on clearance before I head out. I could always think of one more person to say goodbye to, one more dish I wanted to make in my kitchen. I could always feel that I hadn’t hugged my family enough or shown them how much I love them.

And really, when I think about my life in Chicago, the noise, the adventure, the food, the people, the excitement of new classes, it makes it easier. I’m excited, though not ready. Jesus will go with me, anyways, so I’ve got continuity there. It’s more than I need, more than I could think to ask for.

6 days to make the most of every opportunity and get as ready as I can be.

What I’ll miss.

imageOh, Chicago.  If only you had gotten warmer sooner.  You’d be so much easier to leave.  I’d have had plenty of time to wander along beautiful neighborhood streets on my way to get ice cream while the trees put their new leaves on display.

I have a feeling that I’m going to need to spend more time in the less suburban areas of Minnesota this summer.  Truly, what good is it to be city-savvy if you’re only savvy in one city?

I’ll work on my city driving skills.

I’m going to miss this place and these people.  Now that my parents are a short train ride/short drive/long walk away (but only temporarily), it’s an ideal place to be.  Granted, Brooke and Alex are in Minnesota, and my extended family is still far away, but it’s a step in the right direction.

I’m going to miss the familiar, monotonous voice of the L, especially when it tells you that you’re at Irving Park but the sign outside the window says Addison.  I’m going to miss riding through people’s backyards and behind apartment complexes and dreaming about maybe one day having one of the tinier, cheaper ones.

I’m going to miss having to be extra vigilant for flying discs on sunny, warm days and how all of a sudden the whole community comes together when the weather is beautiful.

I might miss sharing a bathroom with 30 other girls.

Maybe not.

I’ll probably miss all the food options Chicago offers, how varied it is, how you could go to a new place every week.  I’ll miss how inundated we are with Swedishness here.

I’ll miss my view out my window to Foster Ave and the continuous, noisy bustle of city life.

I’ll miss my friends, most of whom I won’t see for at least 4 months.

But I’ll be back.  That’s the beauty of leaving a non-vacation spot.  There’s a plan to come back and a tuition deposit that says I’ll be here in the fall.  It’s bittersweet, like all goodbyes.




I just wanted you to know that I’m sleeping in my bed in my lime green room for the last night until October.  It’s cleaner than it’s been in months in here, partially because so much is packed, partially because I finally found homes for all the things on my floor.

I’ve been saying “goodbye”s and “see you later”s all day, but I just realized that I don’t have to say any more (until Tuesday when I say farewell to Brooke and Wednesday to my parents).  Especially not to you all.  You’re coming with me!  Praise the Lord for the internet is all I have to say.

You’re going to meet my roommate – if she will consent to it. :)  You’ll hear about the strange, wonderful, interesting, and other things that happen on campus.  You’ll hear about my adventures in downtown Chicago.  You’ll hear about what I’m pondering as I begin a new set of Bible classes and Communications classes and such.

It’s a new era for us, isn’t it?

I just wanted to share that with you, seeing how I’m saying goodbye to all these people.

Also, I spent most of my last evening at home scurrying around the house and telling my dad that it all had to fit (thank you, Daddy) in the car. So I wanted to have a few moments of reflection and peace before I leave.

I’m so glad to take my blog with me.  Some things don’t have to change or be left behind.  Thanks for journeying with me, guys.  You’re all great.