I'm sitting half in the kitchen, half in the living room, on a chair from the dining table. Israel is curled up under a blanket I got in Mexico on the chair my grandfather sat in every night for decades. Sufjan Stevens is playing on the record player.
The house is cold, my fingers are a bit numb, and my keffiyeh is pulled loosely around my neck.
Tomorrow, we go to a funeral for the 9 month old son of a neighbour.
Today, I received a voicemail saying a teenage friend of my old roommate finally passed away after attempting suicide a couple of days ago.
This morning I attended a lecture on the oppression of the Palestinians and the refugees who are "fleeing from the United States version of freedom and democracy" (as one speaker put it) in Iraq.
I'm thinking about my upcoming trip to Yemen, my role here in Grand Rapids, and why my heart beats differently when I think about the poor and the hurting.
I am learning practices in this house that will change me forever. I am meeting people who have impacted my life extensively in regards to understanding more than my mid-west suburban upbringing.
Last summer, I had a friend sit me down to inform me that I don't really end conversations, phone calls, or hanging out times well. Basically, I just take off when I'm finished, no real exit strategy. Aside from explaining this to you, that is how I am ending this post. I have nothing else to say.
