"Causin' me all sorts of sins"

The bus is my new normal. or sort of.

It feels more like normal than the wealthy homes I babysit in or the restaurants I eat at or the types of cars I get to borrow. I'm tired of it but at the same time I'm comfortable and grateful for the social and cultural experience. I don't want to sound like these people are just an experience or "an education" but it's just not a situation I'd readily put myself into. But I'm in it and I'm no longer tense and constantly unsure but comfortable and confident, exhausted and blessed by the life stories (all packed into 5 or 10 minutes each) I'm told throughout my days.

Some days I wish I were invisible though. The other day a lady got on at 45th and got off at East 3rd and talked a steady streak for the entirety of her 30 minute route. She talked of her abusive father, the drugs she tried, and the men that have hurt her to whomever would listen,

"You know my daddy attempted murder on me when I was 16, 17, and 18 and he's burnin' in the fires of hell right now for it." She switched topics rapidly.

"I got $5000 cause a man hit me walkin' down Lee Highway the other day."

"I set an X-rated movie on fire...heck! that's what I do for God and his Almighty."

"I can't quit smoking but I've put my cigarettes in my dead husband's casket." (what?)

She went on and on and I went back and forth into muffled laughter or looks utter devastation and horror.

Yesterday a sane woman talked to me for 20 minutes before the bus and during, giving God all the glory and praise that she was back in school at 56 and had 17 grandchildren and 6 great grandchildren. "Those men call me sometimes - men from my past - and they beg me to come back and I say 'NO! I got Jesus now and I don't need you." She looks at me and says without a blink, "Once you know the good there ain't no reason to go back to the evil."

"Amen." I say.

Cavin was upset for the second morning in a row when I got onto my 7:15am bus today. He was happy to see me, reassuring me that he loved me always and has been looking for me (he's not quite all there in the head) and then went on ranting about how the bus fares have increased and bus stops have changed. "I won't be thrown around!", He mutters. He repeats things constantly, says it over and over, each time looking at a different bus rider. I had the phone to my ear when I stepped on the bus, finishing my routine morning conversation with mom and listening to her prayer for my day. I waved a silent good morning to Cavin and he waited until I hung up to start his rant.

"Why they changin' things on us?! They best know I won't be thrown around. I went to the meetin' but still they're changin' the stops. I won't be thrown around! They're causin' me all sorts of sins. I'm so angry, I ain't movin for them.
They're causin' me all sorts of sins... all sorts of sins!"
He got louder with every repetition.

I nodd... wanting to tell him to quit being a brat and the world in actuality doesn't revolve around him and his needs even if he did go to the meeting, but the bus driver was already doing that. She was a female and I've decided I like female bus drivers best. They don't talk too much and when they do, they're hilarious and not afraid to tell people to 'shut up'. They're sassy but motherly and I feel endeared to them for it.

This bus and I have a love/hate relationship. It's my new normal and doesn't frighten me like it did some weeks ago. It has caused me numerous times of embarrasment and too many occasions of stress. It has made me less socially awkward and more city smart. and it has instilled in me the freshest appreciation for the day when I will have my very own means of transportation.



me with the car a family I babysit for let me borrow last weekend.
(I was in heaven.)

i was born 21 years ago.

I'm content and spread out at a little circular table in Panera waiting for my big brother to come pick me up. My bus from New City was 30 minutes late and I missed my connecting one to St. Elmo but brother is dear and said it would be no problem to pick me up at after his work. It's actually a pretty quaint place to be stuck and after a 12 hour day packed with buses, people, an exam, training lectures at New City, and working in an inner city neighborhood I'm ready for a little circular table time with me and my book waiting for brother. My head hurts and my hair is knotty but my fingers are itching to write and I'm not even sure what to nail down. Classical music is playing and my head starts to feel a bit relaxed. A girl has just passed me giggling with her boyfriend. She had on this pretty urban outfitters sort of salsa dress with dark hair and loose curls and she's so pleasant to look at. But as she walks outside she's staring at her reflection in the windows, overly conscience of her beauty and it sort of ruins her. I could observe all evening long.

But I should focus on something for you. These last two days have been a whirlwind of culture and experience. I'm either at Chatt State or New City or on a bus trying to get to one of them. I can't figure out whether to tell you about the friendly man named Walter, that greets me every morning at 7:15 when I board my bus on the corner of Beulah and 54th. "'Morning Aubren, how you doin darlin'?" he says. Or do I tell you about my sassy and southern math professor who, although she teaches one of the most diverse classrooms in race and social class that I've seen, she doesn't see in color. Jessica is the same as Moneka. Moneka is the same as Roger and Roger the same as Bow. We're equal in her eyes. But then I want to tell you how successful I've been at mastering the bus system and how it's given me such a dose of confidence and joy and made me feel so much older and capable. Or maybe how this internship that I'm doing with inner city children is a job that is both beautiful but incredibly scary, rewarding but exhausting. I know it will be one of the best things I do but I hardly feel capable. I can't wait to begin and be on the front lines of children's lives. I could open up any of those...

but really I just want to tell you about my birthday morning, my 21st birthday morning in Sumter, South Carolina...

It all started on Thursday afternoon when Chelsey and Joanna decided they were going to take me to Sumter for my 21st to see my Michael. After my math class I raced home with the kind of energy that words like "road trip", "birthday", and "Michael" evoke. We drove 6 hours...6 hours of changing radio stations, off and on rain storms, too many cigarettes, sips of sweet tea, and the warmth of friends in the front seat taking you away for the weekend.

The weekend was gold and it began with Michael on his bike waiting for us on the highway outside his neighborhood the night we showed up, and peddling back home full speed, trying to race our car.

But my morning was my favorite.

Michael woke me up at 10am on the 17th and as I walked out of my room there was a sign right above the doorway that said, "Welcome to the Birthday Zone" with green streamers hanging down through the doorway. My tired morning smile burst through. I walked through the streamers and the floor was sprinkled with a rainbow of colors. Balloons were everywhere and it made me stop, excited out of my mind, and look around. Hanging from the mantle was a huge picture of me that read "Happy 21st Sienna". He and his parents had decorated the house for me and I couldn't believe it. Michael was in the kitchen and told me to come on... I walked in, more colors sprinkled all over the floor, and an elaborate breakfast set for me at the table complete with a heart cut out of my toast with a fried egg inside. Three glasses sat at the top of my plate, a glass of grape juice (my favorite), a glass of milk and of course, a cup of coffee. Before he sat down he pushed play and as one of our favorite songs started playing, warm tears began falling down my morning cheeks. I cupped my face in my hands and tried to contemplate this amazing moment that I had just been given from a boy so eager to show me his love. I was so overwhelmed with happiness and priviledge. and I've decided the morning is one of the best times to be surprised. And I can't believe I have such an amazing man. Really, I can't.

In Sumter, South Carolina, this past weekend I got to turn 21 and my boyfriend is truly amazing and even though I have a million other stories to tell you, they pale in comparison to that morning in Sumter.

post rainy air

I'm sitting at the bus stop with my knees pulled up to my chest. I close my book. My bus is 4 minutes late so I lean back and try to make myself comfortable. I pull out my wallet and stick my student ID in the front page of my book, What is the What, so I can pull it out quickly and get on my bus free of charge.

I stop reading and look around. Three buses have passed but none are mine. There's a boy sitting next to me with an over sized graffiti jacket on - a jacket I've only dreamed of pulling off. He's not holding anything and he's staring at the construction across the street. I stop reading to look like he's looking. and I'm tempted to ask if he's waiting for the 28 too. I want to talk to him because he looks nothing like me and our worlds are so foreign to each other. I start thinking about it, how many different kinds of people there are. I'm fascinated. suddenly sitting out on a bench at the bus stop I don't feel scared, maybe a little bit out of place, but not scared. but he's not interested and he won't look at me.

Someone sits across from me and when I catch their gaze I'm not sure if it's a man or a woman. They stare back at me and now I'm a little scared and wonder why my bus is 6 minutes late. It's never that late and now I'll be that student who walks into class ten minutes after the professor's started lecturing.

It's ok though. I'll keep looking for now.

Two older men walk briskly beside the bus stop and I wish they were catching the 28 too. But they keep going, oh so briskly, with their goofy grins as they talk to each other with their humorously short jogging shorts on. They are so jolly.

and I know why.
it's early.
and they're awake.
they're not missing anything.

They're surrounded by their community and walking along busy streets with post rainy air hitting their morning cheeks and producing that goofy grin. I smile at them without realizing it.

I love this rainy air and this scary bus stop.
I'm so happy where I am.

the brand new's of life.

these are my friends. two are left in Chattanooga with me this summer but the rest have gone away, spreading out over many states and returning in the fall for our mountain. Dan is off to French School, Kyrie to Maryland and then to Philly, Drew to someplace I can never keep track of, Michael to Sumter and then to Prague, and Jonathan to Ashville, I think. Chelsey is here and Bethany too but we each have jobs and plans that though we will see each other, it will be very different from our intimate mountain life. A good different though. A liberating and invigorating different. The summer is so new and I'm just now beginning, after two weeks of lovlieness and maybe a bit of laziness, to find a much needed routine and purpose for the next four months. It's exciting this morning as I've begun to map it all out.

It all started this morning when I missed the bus.

My 8am math class this summer is an hour away by bus so I catch the 6:35am and take it downtown, switch to the 28 and take that 30 more minutes to Chattanooga State. I arrive 30 minutes before class but that's ok. I'm not a girl prone to boredom. Writing and reading never tire. This was my first morning that I started my bus route and I woke up around 6:15 scared to death. I can always do it, really I can. I've made it to some far away places and each time I made it on time and I made it by myself. I caught that plane and I made it to the right bus. I hailed the taxi and when I got lost, well I've figured it out. I've asked or called, found the right answer and turned myself around. In the end I've always made it back home usually with a headache from the stress but I made it. there and back. This morning wasn't one of those mornings. I didn't quite make it there but what I did make was a resolve. A resolve to get up bright and early tomorrow in time to make my coffee and put on something more presentable then a hanes v-neck and jeans, take a shower and catch that 6:35am bus. I've called the company and I know exactly where I need to go, specially since I was there this morning for half an hour, and now I know the right time as well.

I can do this. This morning I was scared, frustrated and almost paralyzed by intimidation. (I’m just going to be honest here. I’m not quite sure how to be anything else.) I know it’s just a bus ride, I know it’s just a math class, I know it’s just a route and a walk a couple blocks away to the bus stop but to me it’s scary. To me it’s something brand new. And even though I’ve done many brand new's in my life, each one comes with nerves and fears that have the potential of making me want to curl up and die. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic but please hear the reality in this. Despair and self pity are an easy route to take, easier than the St. Elmo and Amnicola Highway ones but they are not the right routes. Not at all. I can get on them and they will consume me and I won't get off at the right place. They will hinder me from entering into the riches and provision of my Heavenly Father.

Michael gave me something to read last night and in one part I found this and it was perfect.

“No sin is worse than the sin of self-pity, because it removes God from the throne of our lives, replacing him with out own self interest.”

In every change he faithful will remain. In every change he’s perfecting us and using us as a tool for his kingdom. As Psalm 87:7 says, “All my springs are in you.” Our bodies are his temple and he will use my life this summer for his glory. I just need to cooperate. My summer is so new and so much has already changed that I thought would stay the same. Michael suddenly had to leave a month and a half before he was supposed to, I put all my belongings in the wrong storage at school and it was donated and now most everything I own is gone, and then this morning I missed my bus. I have things to complain about but then I would be failing to keep my Jesus on the throne in my life, trusting that he has a perfect plan. Lean on me, trust me...I’m taking everything away until you do, I hear him say.

This morning had the potential of being hopeless. But I walked back home from the bus stop feeling defeated and stupid and went straight for my bible. I feel a peace. I feel a resolve. I feel a purpose in it all. I am thankful for all my brand new’s and tomorrow I will be up early and I will catch my 6:35 bus.

somewhere between.

It's the summer time again. just like that. In the midst of my sophomore year I thought it would never end but toward the end I knew it was all catching up and time had begun slipping through my fingerstips. Somewhere between the falling autumn leaves and new summer air it slipped. and I couldn't stop it and I couldn't pause it. All I could do was resign. It wasn't a despair but almost a curious resigning. Where had all the time gone? Where had all the studying and stress gone? Where had the sunsets and early mornings gone? Where had Kyrie gone?

enjoy you moment. enjoy those people around you. those ones you love.

Kyrie left yesterday. She left for Maryland and then off to Philly for art school and no, she has not died but no longer will she live on my hall, in my room, and on my bed. She'll no longer be a simple shout away and I won't be able to spot her over by the windows at 1pm in the great hall with eric. I won't be calling her anymore asking when she'll be back or if she wants to go to pancakes in the morning at the kaufmans or just sleep in. No more calls of "where are you? i'm coming" or "do you want to go to starbucks for a caramel machiotto?" It's the day to day I'll miss. It's the knowing she's in arm's length and the comfort that offered. It's the feeling that I can never overdo my welcome with her, that I'll never tire her listening ears. It's that simple yet profound knowledge that someone knows you completely and yet they love you in spite of it. they get you. and they don't need you to speak all the time either. you can relax.

kyrie's dear to me.

and yet I very much see the good at the same time. There's this huge hole that she left yesterday, almost like part of me was chopped off when I hugged her and let her walk away. There's no pretty way to say it. and yet this hole even now has begun to fill, knowing that it had to happen sometime and knowing that Kyrie is so beautiful and where she is going is only going to strengthen that beauty and as silly as it sounds, I have to share her. I want to share her. I want her to be sprinkled over the lives of others, the cities and schools of someplace else because I want others to experience the calm and consistent, the patient and persevering love that she gave me. I will miss her blond tossled hair, her warmly lit room, and her constantly creative eye. But I can let her go at the same time so unbelievably grateful that I was given my time with Kyrieanna and that I know her better then I ever before. And really... it makes me grateful for those still around me and eager to spend time with them. to love.

to listen to kiko as she talks about the girl who cuts herself and needs a home in her foster agency. to go with chelsey when she picks out her puppy tomorrow. to treasure every dear conversation with michael on the porch in the evenings.

they're here. and i love them. so dearly.

and the truth is that God does give and then at times, he takes away, sometimes even people. but I'm realizing that if we just try and look around, not even that intensely. but if we just look he's taking care. he knows us so well, hemmed us in behind and before. what a freeing truth this is and sitting on my bed tonight in this new and charming house I get to call my own, tucked pleasantly inside st. elmo, I know that truth has given me peace. he's got me. he knows me. and he's taking care.