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As of about 3:33 PM today, we are deeper in debt than we ever imagined… and loving it. We have now entered the wonderful and wacky world of home ownership. Hooray! We are really, really excited about our little cottage over the river and through tha hood. If’n you’re looking for something to do on Saturday, we would love to have your hands to help us move our stuff out of the current Casa and into the new estate. Generous amounts of pizza and fellowship will be provided. Just give us a holler.

—A.

While Jessica and I were playing a heated round of Dominoes tonight, she gently reminded me of what a loser I am for not writing more often. And she’s right. She didn’t use the word ‘loser’ at all, just for the record. The way she put it was that I was depriving everyone by holding back my gift with words, which sounds way nicer than my own, self-depreciating subtext.

I just go blank most of the time- always have when it comes to journalling. I am one of those people that has a stack of well-worn, nicely-bound journals three pages to a quarter full. All of them richly bathed in pregnant thought and sincere intentions. I probably have ten of them around somewhere or other. I could never bear the feeling of continuing a journal once it had been neglected for an embarrassingly long period of time- those false starts seemed too foreboding. A lot of the time, I had simply found or been given a cooler journal in the mean time, and it seemed to have just the right feeling. I would almost believe for a moment that the problem all along had been an uninspiring paper and pen combination.

There was a period of time when I was eighteen and nineteen that I was temporarily insane. I was pretty diligent about cataloging my thoughts and reflections around that time. Life had become this gigantic, painful puzzle and I was obsessively compelled to solve it. I had thoroughly misplaced any sense of meaning, and in those pages I was stalking it, tracking its scent down any and every trail where I felt I had caught even a whiff of it. I jotted down memories, streams of nouns loosely connected by the invisible thread I sought, geometric diagrams connecting the various bits of my fractured psyche. And as the pages filled they brought me tremendous comfort.

So, madness was pretty fruitful for me, so far as journalling goes (and in lots of other ways, to be perfectly honest).

I think my pendulum may have swung a little too far the other way as of late. I may just be a little too sane, in the sense that madness and genius are inextricably linked and that a madness quotient of zero leaves you pretty much dry in the genius department as well. I really believe super-sanity is just as dysfunctional as in-sanity. Insane people may have lost their understanding of reality, but the super-sane think that understanding reality is all there is to life.

Creativity is rooted in embracing mystery and awe. Creative process, unlike scientific process, thrives in the atmosphere of not knowing. The known makes shoddy material for the fabrications of genius. The most awesome feature of God’s creativity to me is ex nihilo manifestation.

Anyway, getting back to this no writing (and not painting for that matter) thing I’ve got going on. Part of it is simply my classic indiscipline and fear of failure combo, but I think another element is a sort of complacency that I have developed in response to Christianity. When I was a pagan, the world was infinite and could be created according to my own liking. Now I believe in a sovereign God and a number of truths that extinguish the infinitude of possible worlds. My response to such truth is admittedly reactionary and silly, but it seems that in this world that has fundamental definitions and can be known (though in no way completely) I will give up on mystery and awe all together and fall into that super-sane mentality that absoulutely cripples my creative drive. That is in no way ‘what Jesus would do.’

So I recognize that and I will begin to address it prayerfully, seeking the middle way of loving the God that is revealed yet hidden, who makes fools of the wise.

—Adam

p.s. Here is a haiku I wrote just after our domino game/writing challenge:

My wife is clever
Dominoes packed so tightly
Could I love her more?

It’s a pretty amazing thing that we’re both in jobs right now that we really enjoy. They’re jobs that stimulate our brains and teach us things. We are using our talents and interacting with people that we like. And we’re both involved in work that makes a real difference in peoples’ lives. It’s remarkable. I have found myself the last week or so noticing people working (bellhops outside a hotel, people at the front desk of an office, food service people), and I’ve thought over and over, “I love my job.” That’s so great. Sometimes you don’t realize you’re fortunate until it’s over and things are crummy, but I’m trying to take note of the fact that we are both, indeed, happy where we are.

We are also moving ahead in some other cool things. We close on our house a week from today, and we’ll move in on the 30th. We’re going to be homeowners! That’s very exciting. I got especially excited when we helped Gene’ and KC move last weekend into their house. I’m really excited about settling into a new place with Adam and making it ours. We also will have more space to host people. We already have three different requests just in May to host people through couchsurfing.com.

Also, yesterday we committed to go on a trip to Russia in August. It will be a two week trip to St. Petersburg working at an arts camp for orphans then interacting with some of the arts professionals in the city at the end of the trip. It will be a great trip! Gary, the man organizing the trip is so dear, and we are really looking forward to working with him. We may have some opportunity for leadership and organization of this trip as well. I’m really stoked about that. Gary has ongoing relationships with a lot of people and ministries in St. Petersburg, and there are some possibilities that this trip could nurture some future opportunities for us.

There’s a lot going on, but I need to go now. I’ve gotta go to youth group with Adam.

Have a great evening. I hope all is well.

-Jessica

It’s a gorgeous day, and I’m at a desk. But I’m off in an hour. Then we’re going to have dinner in the park. Happy Spring Friday!

Today marked the end of an era. We spent the afternoon moving our next door neighbor, Andy into the ghetto. I don’ think we’ve written much about him, but he’s been a big part of our life since the beginning of last year when he moved into the neighborhood. Andy is a 39 year old mentally handicapped man who lives on his own. Adam has been a good friend to Andy from the start. Andy loves classic country music, terrible coffee, cigarettes, playing rummy, outrageous outfits, and the Lord. He flies off the handle about bus tickets and roommates and has been very demanding. He also craves Adam’s attention and approval like a 4-year-old son craves his father’s. He prays for a house with lots of rooms so he can take care of orphans, and he wants to go to Africa to take care of the children. He goes to the hospital to pray for the patients. He calls Adam’s cell phone an average of 20 times a day (the record is up around 40 times in one day, no lie). He lives in filth. He grills out whenever he has the food to grill, and he always wants to feed us. He has been an unexpected treasure in our life.

Other than his non-existent income from selling Avon and registering people to vote, Andy lives off of the government. Things have been tight for him since he kicked out a couple different roommates who weren’t so bad, and when his land-lord started getting antsy about the disgusting state of the duplex, Andy started looking for a cheaper place to live. Unfortunately, Andy reaches out to people in need without any discretion and has welcomed some real characters to live with him in the past. One such was a man named Edgar who apparently died a few years ago, strung out on crack. Because of some circumstances with Edgar, Andy is now unwelcome to live in metro housing (government subsidized housing). Andy found himself in a difficult place. He was evicted from the duplex next door to us, and he was not able to move into metro housing. Thus, Andy called one of his old slum-lords and asked if there was any vacancy. “Fortunately” there was an apartment available, and he made up his mind that that was the best place for him to go. We’re disappointed because there are other, non-ghetto options for low-income housing, particularly one for people with disabilities, but Andy made up his mind.

So, today we packed up his duplex, loaded up the UHaul, and moved him to the other side of the tracks. Now, where we live is not the safe, clean, preppy part of town, but it looks like Bel Aire compared to Andy’s new digs. We drove up to a couple of guys drinking their beers by their truck’s tailgate and shooting at a tree with a paintball gun (the parking signs, the dumpster and the gravel parking lot have clearly been targets in the past). Then as we unloaded, we got to hear the falling out of a mother and teenage son who stormed out with a parting phrase that I won’t repeat. The mother, in the apartment directly beneath Andy’s, spent the next five or so minutes screaming out a recap of the argument to whoever could hear. Adam also saw the disturbing affection between a teenage girl and a man much, much older. And this was all in the bright of the afternoon sun. I wonder what it’s like at night.

That is where Andy wants to live. He has been so excited the last couple of weeks as he’s planned his move. It bothers us that he’s there now, and I have no nice way to wrap up my thoughts. We are disappointed.

-Jessica

I’m sick, but life is good.

We just finished watching The Royal Tenenbaums. I saw it in the theaters when it came out, and I didn’t like it at all. I think I was expecting it to be a comedy, so I was disappointed and a little wierded out. Adam insisted that I give it another chance, knowing what to expect this time. I’m glad I did. They’re such great characters. They’re complicated and sad. Everybody’s got some depression in their life– I know Adam and I do. I like how everybody in the movie was so weak alone but began to heal when they leaned on eachother. Family is so important.

I’ve just been thinking about how important family is lately, and that’s a good illustration of it.

Adam’s birthday is Friday, so remember to tell him happy birthday. :).

Good night.

-Jessica

Jessica is such a great journalist, is she not? I want to be a great writer like her when I grow up.

Today is April Fools. My car is dead and it’s pouring rain… discuss…

—Adam

My husband is the best.

In other news, we just found out about 1 minute ago that with the house financing for which we have qualified, our monthly house payment (tax and insurance included) will be cheaper than the already amazingly cheap monthly rent for our duplex. I’m floored. God is good.

This afternoon, I picked up Sajee from work, and we went to Maggie Moo’s for ice cream. She had never been introduced to Maggie Moo, so I had the grave honor to initiate her. Sitting outside, eating ice cream, with the perfect 70 degree air, subtle breeze, blinding blue sky and Mexican music piped from Baja Fresh next door, I felt transported to Southern California. That was a nice feeling. I would love to be there. I miss you Jeff, Meg, Mom and Dad.

After ice cream, we went to a dog park and played with other peoples’ dogs for about an hour. It was good to get my doggie fix, and it was a cultural experience for Sajee. She said, “American people really like their dogs, don’t they?” Yep.

We swung by our place to pick up Adam, then we went to drop Sajee off at home. She invited us in to meet her family, and in the style of Southeast Asians, they kept us until 10:00. It was wonderful. Sajee lives with her uncle (Karu) and aunt and their young daughter. Karu’s sister and her two high school aged boys also live there. We had a lot to talk about, and they fed us a “modest” meal of two different fish dishes, a beef dish with baby corn, chicken, dal (lentils), mixed curried vegetables, and yellow rice. Adam was in his element, and jumped right in with Karu, eating with his hands. I ate with my fork in the bashful western woman way. We loved their company, and they seemed to truly enjoy us as well. What a great family! We will surely be spending some more time with them.

I’m falling asleep, so I’m going to go before I write andything too wierd.

night.

-J essjlhojpk