The Freedom to Think What I Will.

Yesterday, North Park Played host to Jim Wallis, author and speaker, in our weekly Chapel Service. The event was rather large, including the gospel choir participating in worship as well as a camera crew from ABC's Good Morning America capturing the event. Despite being a uniquely-privilaged attendee of the Republican National Convention in 2004 (which was a great experience, dont' get me wrong), I've found recently that politics generally don't perk my intrigue, especially liberals and conservatives trying to convince me that one's right and the other wrong. Of course, I suppose that's what politics is. Anyway, as Wallis' booming voice rang throughout the walls of Anderson Chapel, I could only get vibes of North Park marinating in the publicity, err potential publicity, it will recieve as a result, rather than really condoning or being concerned about the man's message. They made a big deal about him and I had high expectations, but I suppose that along with the new, independent living styles I've seemed to grasp came new, independent thinking styles, too. I no longer need to adopt "default" opinions of my family or church as I once would. In the same way, I now more clearly understand my freedom to think what I will - In this case, I could sense a genuine dissatisfaction in Jim Wallis' speech.

Perhaps I came in with a slightly skeptical bent towards the Christian left, however, I attempted to remain open-minded nonetheless. Janna may have put it best when she simply said, "Yeah, he really didn't make any good points." Jim Wallis has earned credibility, sure, but nothing he said seemed worthwhile and internally motivating. What is Wallis' plan to save the world? Eliminating poverty. And, of course, "[we] are the generation to do it." Hmm, heard that before? I think Jesus told people (or at least implied) to get off their butts and do something about it, too. Maybe even people after him, and for the following 2000 years. Do we need to hear it? Yes, certainly. I definately do not do enough to help the poor and homeless. Does Jim Wallis proactively do anything about it? Beats me. I don't feel like promoting a book, coming on television, manipulating the audience by mentioning then side-stepping emotionally-captivating issues like abortion, and misusing other politically-based rhetoric was an acceptable way of addressing the said issue. I needn't go into more, but I was dissatisfied and dissapointed with his speech. Furthermore, NPU's following responsive prayer where we confessed that we often misaddress important issues in the world such as focusing on abortion and gay-marriage rather than poverty perturbed me as well.

Welcome to the world, Peter. I ought to say, that when I say I now have the freedom to think on my own, its moreso a mindset of actually doing it. When within the influence of my parents and church, I was mainly exposed to the conservative right side, and thus believed them by default. Now, I can address the said issues and controversies without that influence, where my opinions are tested. I certainly don't disagree...I'm just communicating that I can come to those conclusions on my own, moreso, now.
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More "freshman moments." The most notable: I was caught red-handed with a dirty trumpet in my lesson. The following 20 minutes now escalated to the top in the scale of "most humiliating minutes of the year" (though my first dialogue essay critiqued in class is a close second). After Joe worked his magic, I'm playing a new trumpet. Proof? Today in orchestra Dr. Zelle complimented me on a much improved tone with a good sense of senority/superiority during my solo. Go figure...I found myself saying, "Never Again" much like my pal in the previous post.

"Never Again"

These undaunted words came from a very hungover floormate this afternoon. Appearantly, in the three hours I was away from the room last night, he consumed half a bottle of smirnoff (provided by someone else) and shortly after the Bears' behemoth comeback last night, started running and shouting up and down the hallway, causing quite the stir/entertainment among our peers this morning. When I came back, the guy was out cold. As I was completing my homework assignment at my desk at about 1:30 AM, I start hearing one of the most repugnant and loathsome sounds in the world: a man throwing up in his sleep. It continued off and on for about five minutes; I was half afraid he might suffocate or something, so I yelled at him, poked him with stuff and the guy did. not. budge. After resting all morning, he's come to an admirable conclusion: "Never again." It was his first time, and as the curiosity of a free college freshman may entice, he just wanted to try it. "Never again" he says. As my inner mother is slowly coming out (seperating his red sheets from his white pillow/pillowcase in his laundary load), and we reflect on the previous evening, I find a positive bonding experience in the works.

Recent friendship developments have made college seem like threshold week a bit again. I'm hanging out more often with some people I've met only recently, whose company I enjoy very much, and I'm constantly still meeting new people and new scenarios. It keeps life vibrant, I suppose, if nothing else.
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Kosova has been on my mind quite a bit recently, here's why.
> Sunday afternoon I recieved a long, informational email from Mark and Trish, missionaries whom I worked with this summer.

> North Park University has been publicizing multiple short-term mission opportunities all over the world for either winter or spring break.

>I've emailed/chatted with some friends from there, and try to be proactive in maintain relationships with both Kosovars and North Americans.

>Urbana is coming up, and I'm planning to attend that conference open-minded, hopefully crossing paths with some of the CrossWorld Team Members.

> I saw on the Chicago News, of all places, that Nicole Kidman traveled to Kosova earlier this week on UN celebrity ambassodor assignment. I was just excited that people now are hearing more about the region, and that perhaps good things are happening.

I now see that the KOSOVA JOURNAL portion of my website has gone off the recent posts list, so you may access it here, for those of you who are interested in my experiences this summer.



Finally, I've discovered two favorable, little-known bands worth noting. The Beazley Phillips Band and The Gabe Dixon Band. Check them out, if you want.

"I could have danced [and walked] all night..." - another allusion to Jamie Cullum

Little did I know that coming to college would prompt a bizzare, unforeseen desire to learn ballroom dancing. Thoughts such as these reassure me that North Park [and, accordingly, Chicago] was the right choice over the lackluster/rural Augustana College. So, last night, the four confident and daring remains of the ["what would've been a] large group embarked on a mission to enjoy ourselves and the company of others as we learned and practice basic swing and other dance steps.

Chris, Mindy, Janna, and I were those four task-keepers.


So I found this great ballroom, May I have this Dance, online and told Mindy they had swing dancing lessons [Mindy and I practiced swing at the rap-infested homecoming dance]. So, I intended to organize a fairly large group, 5 guys and 5 girls, and go learn swing dancing. Well, this place has a slightly annoying policy in that they do not reveal the dances that will be taught that night in order to encourage people to learn a dance they don't know much about, or review a dance they already know. So I knew going in that we may very well be learning the tango or some obscure dance, but I figured it'd be fun nonetheless. Well, the dances taught that evening were the Waltz and the Hustle - and they were alot of fun!! The community there was highly inter-generational, so I ended up dancing with several women 50 years old +. Even though only 4 of us were able to go, I think that worked out the best, because had there been 8-10 college students there, I could see it being a clear separation of parties, whereas with only four of us, we blended quite nicely. More will go next time, I believe.

The real story of the evening, however, is found in the trip, err... the walk, back to North Park. I knew the bus #68 along Northwest Highway ran with wider time-intervals than others, so we just walked down the street towards the Jefferson Park Bus station - the direction the oncoming bus would come pick us up. Well, for two miles we encountered no bus. So we ended up at Foster, and walked eastbound, hoping to pick up the Eastbound 92 bus. Long story short, we had some very unfavorable circumstances and ended up never picking up the bus, thus walking 2 hours at night all the way back to NPU in formal attire [the girls walked barefoot] and in ~ 50 degree weather. It was partially brutal, but good fellowship nonetheless.

Walking back, above. The route which we walked, below. 5.0 Miles according to Yahoo!

In other news, the first wave of homesickness hit me last night. Actually, pummelled, seems more like it. I got "the feeling." Its the feeling that prompted me, once, in high school to go to blockbuster and pick up anchorman, and schnucks to pick up a pint of Ben and Jerry's chocolate chunk ice cream and just sit in my basement all night endulging in the goods. Its the feeling thatI can almost always pinpoint a reason for [usually having to do with hormones, girls, or the like] even if I never wish to reveal it. However, this feeling is different. I, honestly, cannot pinpoint a reason for it. My relationships are great, school is going fine, I have a satisfying life and reputation here, my finances are decent - nothing seems to bother me right now. But, I felt this unremitting urge to just call my parents and cry. Did I have anything to cry about? No. I just had to. So, we talked for about an hour, and it was really great, relaxing, and personal. My parents cited my feelings as being an overload of summer events which I haven't had the opportunity to catch up from [graduating, kosovo, moving, moving again to college, etc...]. I suppose they're right.

I'm going home in 2 weekends, and I strongly look forward to it.

I love writing...

...but sometimes I write some pretty silly things. I blame it on genetics - not at all that the writers in my family are bad, rather, we tend to be lovers of words. Sometimes I abuse my love for words, for which I'm very grateful that a writing advisor judged my paper for me before turning it in. I had to laugh that I am actually the author of this....... sentence:

"This course of action was decidedly foolish, yet, at times, I fail to amaze even myself and lessened the margin for error even more by implementing my “suave” side into this already complex strategy."





Yes, my thoughts exactly. Needless to say, no part of this abhorrent mixture of words survived to the second draft.

See post below, too, if you haven't yet.