Some Days Are Not Flip Flop Days

February is coming. I was born and raised in the Chicago area, so I will be blunt and tell you honestly: February sucks. I say this in full recognition of some very important dates in February. Like Groundhog's Day. And Valentine's Day. Then there are important birthdays. Along with the birthdays of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, 3/5 of my family of origin celebrate birthdays in February. So there are cakes, candles, and a day off from school.

That is all she wrote for February.

February in my estimation is the antithesis of July. July is blue sky, sunshine, long days fading into mild evenings. July is t-shirts, short pants, and flip flops.  February is short days, gray skies, and cold weather. If you are wise, February involves layers of clothing. February is SAD, as in Seasonal Affective Disorder.  On a positive note, February is the shortest month of the year.

It is best to prepare for February. So, here is a blist (blog list) of the top ten things I hope to keep in mind during the deep, dark days of this approaching Chicagoland February.

Appreciate the snow

It snowed here this morning and it really lightened things, including my mood. Even though it makes for slow travel and shoveling, snow brightens everything. It covers the dead, ugly muck. 

Get outside

Despite the cold and gray, it can feel so good to move. If you have kids, sledding or building something in the snow can be fun. Walking can be invigorating, looking down for tracks in the snow or up for snow in the branches.   

Take your time

Driving can be crazy. I remember purchasing my first cell phone in February. It was very calming to be able to phone to say the roads are a bitch and I am on the way.  

Use your crockpot

February is our time to simmer soups in the crockpot. It warms us at the end of the day and we come home to a good-smelling home. If I was a baker, I would bake breads. I am not a baker.

Cuddle

This is where family and pets are important home accoutrements.  

Vicks on your feet

To add insult to injury, most of us get a upper respiratory some thing some time in February. Vicks on your feet is crazily inexplicable, but many swear by its therapeutic effects. We are Vicks-ready.

Open the curtains and shades

When it is dark, I tend to think "why bother" when it comes to this. But I force myself and, if and when the sun comes out, it can be glorious and well worth the effort.

Get out of town

If possible, it is good to get to a spot that is above 50 degrees. Even a long weekend of sun accompanied by a warm, caressing breeze can be therapeutic.

Don't bitch about it.

It is February. It sucks. Accept it. Spring is just beyond the horizon.

Get a heated toilet seat.

I have been fantasizing about this since visiting my friend Roger.

In closing, I recommend you stay warm, use antidepressants as needed, and have a tolerable February.

Some Days Are Legacies

"Hope is subversive precisely because it dares to admit that all is not as it should be."

I read these words last week. They were blogged by Sarah Bessey at sarahbessey.com. Her words leaped off the screen and have been in my thoughts all week.

At first glance, these words do not image hope as a lit candle. Yet hope is about seeking light. It is not an image of that time before dawn, with the sun about to rise again. Yet it is about waiting. It is not about smiling and putting on a brave but false front. It seems impossible to simultaneously pretend all is fine and admit all is not as it should be.

Everything in life is often not okay. When we hope, we are admitting that things are not okay. When we hope, we believe that a different future is possible. Even when we cannot see exactly what that future is, hope gives us the courage, and the agency, to live into what is possible.

I find that it is not easy to be hopeful. In painful moments, I tend towards abandoning all hope, rather than staring pain straight in the face and admitting that everything is not as it should be.

Today we remember the life and legacy of Martin Luther King Jr.  Dr. King spoke eloquently about hope. He spoke of his Dream, of what could be possible. He also struggled with the harsh realities. He shared in a poignant sermon how his dream had turned to a nightmare, how life was a series of shattered dreams. His hope was subversive because he dared to admit that all was not as it should be.

Walter Brueggeman wrote in The Prophetic Imagination, "Only if we have tasted despair, only if we have known the deep sadness of unfulfilled dreams and promises, only if we can dare to look reality in the face and name it for what it is, can we dare to begin to imagine a better way."

Such is the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Some Days Are Distractions

It is freezing outside.
It is the week before high school finals.
Several new children and families have been added to my work week.
During this past week alone, I have misplaced my credit card, a giftcard, and my terrycloth duck puppet.
And Juliana Yabuku remains on our kitchen whiteboard.

Eight months ago, Boko Haram militants stormed a high school in the village of Chibok in Nigeria and abducted more than 200 teenage girls. Juliana Yabuku was one of these girls

We know about Juliana Yabuku and the other girls because of Ibrahim Abdullahi.  Ibrahim Abdullahi, a Nigerian lawyer, began the hashtag Bring Back Our Girls campaign, bringing international attention to the abductions. Without this campaign, we may have never known.

Despite international attention and international efforts, the kidnapped girls remain missing. In the meantime, Boko Haram has continued a reign of terror, striking again this week in the northeast area of Nigeria.

And it is freezing outside.
And it is the week before high school finals.
During this week alone, there have been so many distractions.

In Abuja, the capital of Nigeria, hundreds of people continue to gather daily. These people include families and neighbors of the missing girls. They carry signs and chant "Bring Back Our Girls." They do this daily. 272 days since the girls went missing.

Juliana Yabuka's name remains on our whiteboard. Her name is there to remind us of her life, to ask that light shine upon her, to keep hope alive that she be returned to her home and family.

It is so amazingly cold and finals week cometh. I am meeting new children and families as well as devoting time to lost and misplaced objects. The weekend is full. Lots going on in our lives. Lots of distractions. That is why Juliana Yabuka needs to stay on our whiteboard.