Still Alive . . .

One of you said in a recent email that you planned to read my blog in order to catch up on my life. That reminded me that my poor blog has been in a season of drought for quite some time. So I will quickly update you on my life post-last post....

Some Place to Live: The Housing Soap Opera

At the end of last summer, I moved into the "Spanish Villa" with three dear friends. As I carried boxes and boxes of books into the house, it felt good to know that my books, my friends and I would live in this house for at least a year and a half, at least until I finish my degree.

Then my roommate Katie told me that on that very day, she had espied a realtor taking photos of our house. Soon the house was on the market. And the fun began.

Last semester, I was out of the house by 7 or 8 in the morning 6 days a week. The only day that I could ever enjoy a leisurely sleep in and a relaxed afternoon was Saturday. The realtor's favorite time for scheduling open houses - Saturday afternoon. It seriously felt like a curse in my over-committed, over-scheduled, sleep-deprived life. So each Saturday afternoon, I would have to clean my little room and vacate my house. Or I would stay, studying in the living room like a caged monkey for strangers to stare at before they explored my bedroom. I invariably felt violated.

The realtor's other favorite thing to do was notify us Monday night of open houses on Wednesday afternoon. The problem was two-fold: (1) when my life gets hectic, I inhabit my room like I am Taz from Looney Tunes. Things literally go flying and I leave hurricane-like destruction in my wake. (2) Between Monday night and Wednesday afternoon, I literally had no time to clean up the disaster area. Tuesdays I enjoyed a 14-15 hour day of classes and meetings. Therefore, sometimes strangers wandered through my mess; some probably saw my underwear.

Then the house sold in November. Then the sale fell through in December. Then a non-English-speaking Korean couple bought the house at the end of January, and they did not wish to continue our tenancy. So that left us homeless by the end of March, which is perhaps the worst time of year for graduate students to move due to exams, papers, and lack of available housing.

I think next week I'll start packing my books.

I am a winner

A couple of years I lamented that I never win anything with those game cards they give you when you check out a Safeway. Good news - I won this year! It wasn't the trip to Thailand I covet so much - rather a leather case containing two sets of playing cards which I still haven't opened. But the point is: I won.

Weightier Things

I love the city of Vancouver dearly. You really can't beat the natural skyline of the North Shore mountains or the beauty of the waves rolling onto the beaches or the tall ancient trees of the parks. But honestly, my favorite place in the entire city is the second floor of a condemned building in the infamous Downtown Eastside, known as the poorest postal code in Canada. This sacred space is called the Great Room.

Since January 2007, various friends and I have been involved in this part of Linwood House's ministry to women. My heart has been broken often by the painful stories of the lives of my new friends, but I have also rejoiced because I have seen God's hand at work. If any of you would like to know more, contact me by email.