keep that cta pass.

i've been noticing that it seems like every single freakin' sunday as i ride home from church on the chicago bus, there's a fight. someone's yelling at someone for whatever (turn my ipod up) or the bus driver's especially pissy (turn the ipod down... i think cta bus drivers are the funniest people alive). it's always slightly more upsetting because church is usually a happy haven of goodness and then i get a 2x4 of the world's ugliness upside the head.

last sunday i was riding the bus home from church, earbuds in place, guitar between my knees, mind off in my own place... which is as it should be according to popular chicago transit etiquette. i hardly noticed the older hispanic man next to me until he talked to me -

"can i ask you question?"

i said sure as i removed the earbuds.

"is dat a cello?"

"this?" i pointed to my guitar. "no, this is my guitar."

"ooooh. my grandson, he play de cello. he's very good. but he don' wanna play de cello no more. now he play de bass. he's very good..."

he went on and on about how great his grandson is at the cello and the bass and how he won't be in any gangs because he's going to focus on music and how he wants to attend his grandson's concert at school but he can't 'cause he has two jobs so he let his wife take the ticket... i had the pleasure of only having to give a few positive responses and nods in order to keep him talking.

i have a weird obsession for an extravert, wherein i simply love when people chat my ear off. but i wasn't just enjoying his chattiness. knowing people is such an essential to loving them. when we let ourselves be known by others, it's an invitation for them to love us. here this man was, telling me with passion about his grandson, revealing his love and appreciation for the good things in his life.

the invitation to love him, just a little bit, was a gift, given for no other reason than the fact that i had my "cello" with me on the bus.

i'm thankful for it.

this made my day.

the other day i was sitting in moody's uber-cool coffee shop, hoe's, i mean joe's. (cue uproarious amounts of laughter.) this middle-aged man came up to the table i was sitting around and asked me and the other guys sitting around it if we knew when the LeCrae concert was. apparently moody radio is hosting some kind of show with him in it...

so i knew nothing about it, but one of the guys told him the concert is next month. when the older man asked where he could get information about it, the guy said something like, "i'm sure there's something about it online." the older man got that bewildered "i-don't-know-the-first-thing-about-the-interwebs" look on his face, and as he was trying to get more information from the guys, i started to google "lecrae concert chicago."

let me tell you, for as technologically un-savvy as i am, i have pretty sweet googling skills.

i asked the older man what his email was and told him i'd email a website with the info to him. he seemed very grateful.

he responded to my email with this:

"Thank you so much your a Jewel."

GAAAAAAH cutest thing ever.

walt would've been proud.

went to a grocery store on cermak with ryan and abby the other day. as we were driving along the wild terrain of western avenue, we stopped at a red light. the three of us watched as an older, blind man crossed the road. he was excruciatingly slow. the light turned green and he was still in the middle of the intersection.

a middle-aged man who was standing on the street corner saw the dilemma and rushed out into the street. he gently took hold of the older man's elbow to guide him along. a young woman came out into the street as well, making sure traffic didn't start moving before everyone was safely out of the way.

they were white, black, and asian.

Christians talk a lot about living in an already-but-not-yet world. Jesus is victorious over sin and death - already, but not yet. We are conformed to the image of Christ - already, but not yet.

i think i saw a bit of world peace at that intersection - already, but not yet.

maybe the killers were right.

my sisters and i took a long bus ride down to hyde park while on vacation this summer. if you know chicago at all, you know what it means to ride through the south side.

ghet-to.

people often take refuge in the little bus stops. it's not uncommon to see someone sleeping on the bench with their only belongings in a few bags by their head.

as we stopped at a bus stop, the driver opened up the doors to let people in and out. a woman was sitting at the stop. she made no motion to move when the bus came. her gaze was distant and tired. one look was all it took to see she had hit some hard times.

before shutting the doors and driving away, the bus driver looked at the woman and said, "it's gonna be okay." she nodded in response. she seemed to take the hope he gave her.

it's gonna be okay.