i like living here

I’m hoping today that some positive self-talk will help me combat the sometimes-angst I have about renting this duplex. We’ve been feeling the pull lately toward buying a house – low mortgage rates, buyer’s market, having a backyard, etc….but we feel like we should stick out the rest of the lease (til next summer) and wait. There are rumblings afoot that have us thinking and rethinking about where and how we should then live. So for now, for the sake of contentment and gratefulness, here we go:

Why I Like My Duplex

• The locust tree in the front yard. I love the way the leaves flicker, the shape of the trunk, and the bright yellow it turns in the fall. It’s a good climbing tree and has a great limb just begging for a swing. The branches swing low in front of my picture window. I’ve been blessed with great trees everywhere I’ve lived.
• Before they built a four-story self-storage place on Center Street, I could see all the way to the hills of the Westlawn-Hillcrest cemetery from my bedroom window. I think cemeteries are beautiful. The fog on the hill was neat to see in the mornings. My sister lives on the other side of the cemetery. She can see it from her dining room window.
• I live on a quiet street, right in the hustle-and-bustle of midtown. There’s a bank, two coffeshops, a grocery store (where my brother is a manager), two gas stations and numerous restaurants all within walking distance. And I’m a short bike ride away from the two biggest parks in Omaha. I’m also close to I-80. (Calgon, take me away!)
• I have come to realize that I don’t need a sprawling house with rooms I don’t use to make a home a sanctuary for my family. To me, smaller is usually better and forces us to be more creative, to get outside a little more.
• When bad things happen (and usually do – the neighbors act up, the sewer line comes forcefully out all of the basement fixtures, etc.), I just call the landlord instead of a contractor. Whew.
• I have a huge living room window. I love windows. I can’t imagine living in a home without many windows. I love letting in light and fresh air, and I can do that here. And when I do, I hear the traffic on Center Street (music to this city girl’s ears!) and a train whistle almost every morning (indulging the 10% of me that could be rural).
• I have finally figured out how to make a tiny kitchen work for me.
• In a stroke of Providence, my church community meets right down the street. Hallelujah! (haha.)
• I have neighbors all around me (our little circle is exclusively duplexes) and so we have a little (albeit loosely-knit) community, built right in. We have to bump elbows with them, whether we want to or not.
• It’s easy to clean. Except for the flat paint on the walls. (grr.)
• I have a HUGE finished basement – one big room for any and all kids to run to their hearts’ content, no matter what the weather. And they do. It’s our indoor playground. I have room for you, too, if you wanna stay the night.
• Compared to our home in Des Moines, the bathrooms (yes – two!) rock. Tile. Shower. High window. Fan.
• It’s cheaper than our home in Des Moines was. For more square footage, bathrooms and bedrooms. The only thing it’s missing is a dining room.

Ah, I feel better now. I was prompted by the little card I got from the bank teller yesterday. It said, “Happiness is being content with what you have: not wanting what you haven’t got.” (Coincidence, or did she see my account balance?) I guess living here isn’t so bad. In fact, it’s downright nice.

lady liberty

I watched a documentary on the Statue of Liberty (or, as she is really named, “Liberty Enlightening the World”) today. [I know, I know. Nerdy. I admit. I love documentaries, much to Michael's chagrin.] I was struck by something the narrator said, which was that the Statue of Liberty is very much the anti-Colossus: she does not stand above all, legs streched from land to land, a masculine symbol of conquest. She is inviting, nuturing almost, feminine and strong, illuminating the way. Come, come – forbid them not. The poem written for her is beautiful, and it made me a little bit proud that one of the prominent symbols of our nation, and also the ideal of liberty (in spite of how we may have perverted it), is an image of a woman:

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land,

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

“Keep ancient land, your storied pomp!” cries she

With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Emma Lazarus

we put the ‘big’ in “GO BIG RED”

…or, as I also like to call this photo, “De-Fence”.  That one was for you, Dad.

Live Lightly Tour stops in Omaha!

Please come out to see our friends, Matt, Sara & Bella Janssen as they stop in Omaha for a couple of days THIS WEEK on their Live Lightly Tour! Here are more details. (Or click on the RV for their website.) They’ve been touring all over the country for the past year or so in an RV powered exclusively by vegetable oil. You know you’re curious. Come and chat with them about consumerism, green living, and life on the road!

love for the third party

After much talking, arguing, debating, a little yelling and some listening, Michael and I finally found some political common ground. Can I just say I hate talking politics? Like faith, it is so deeply personal. It has the potential to be explosive, divisive and even demonizing. I came to the point a couple of weeks ago when I told Michael I could only hold a ten-minute conversation about politics with him before one of us would boil over. We finally called a cease-fire. Even though it’s sometimes the best solution, I hate to agree-to-disagree. (Ironically, I’m fine with agreeing-to-disagree with anyone else. Just not Michael. I know, I know.) Thankfully, I think we’ve pulled our ship into safe harbor. I have to give props to Barack Obama, because watching his eloquent acceptance speech this week spurred us to dig down to the party platforms and discover for ourselves where each party/candidate stands on the issues.

After much digging, arguing and listening, we found that – surprise! – we agreed on many of the same points. We were just coming at them from different angles. Duh. Funny what happens when we put down our guard and concede that the other does, in fact, know something.

And so, here we are. Excited about joining, and casting our votes for, the Liberarian Party. For us, it fits. Fits where we’re at in our walk of faith, and fits with most of our political ideology (which, I’ve discovered, is many times intertwined – at least for me.). I mean, if we lean that way anyway, we’d better put our money (or, in this case, our vote) where our mouths are. I feel like I have finally come to terms with my political self. Feels like getting into a warm bath after a long day of yard-work – the euphoric combination of the laboring toward job well done, but still knowing the hedges will need clipping again in a week. The work never ends. Kind of like faith. Kind of like relationships. Kind of like life.

One of the questions we kept asking ourselves was, “Am I throwing away my vote by voting third-party?” Off the cuff, my answer was ‘yes’. But Michael contended with this compelling point a fellow blogger made: “I’d rather vote for something I want and not get it, than vote for something I don’t want and get it.” And then there’s the whole voting-your-conscience thing. The only way to throw away your vote, in my opinion, is not to vote. I don’t know what party Jesus would have been affiliated with, if any. I do know that, at the end of the day, he’s more concerned with my heart than my ballot.

Please know, dear reader, that I’m not intending to convert you. I probably won’t even discuss it with you in person. I’m a reluctant political. I love having friends who are staunch Democrats, friends who are committed Republicans and some friends who are dissatisfied with the entire political process. I know no political party is perfect, nor has the perfect solution to every problem our nation (or the world) faces. However, if you do find yourself intrigued, do check out your current party’s platform. Maybe even check out the platforms of parties you’d never dare affiliate with (gasp!). Know your candidates. Ask the tough questions of yourself. Question, question, question. Engage. Introspect (admittedly, not my strong suit.) Be okay with the complex shades of grey sometimes. And disagreeing. You might be surprised. I was.

Even more than that, and what I really intended the theme of this post to be, is that it feels really good for Michael and I to have come to the decision together. Amen.