Highland Home- a house of memories

Young grandma.

Memories. 
Are they only in my head? 
They come and go.
Objects, smells, people, and sounds are triggers.
Emotions and thoughts are effects.
I do not understand where they come from. 
Yet, I do not want them to go.
How many can my brain hold?
Will there always be room for more?
Memories.

1957

My grandparent's house is going to have a For Sale sign in front of it soon. Every weekend my family meets at their house to organize and sort through their stuff. My grandpa said two Saturdays ago, "Save, save, save. That was my motto." As you can imagine, they have quite a bit of stuff.

With that stuff, however, comes memories. There are over 52 years of memories in the house. It is the house my father and his brothers grew up in. The place my family would go most Christmases until my grandma got sick.

Learning to knit.

While going through each room, I have had to pause at times because different memories have been brought to mind. Each item I had seen before triggered a memory. From the Sorry game to a certain sweater my grandma wore. Every pair of knitting needles and skein of yarn we found reminded me of my grandma's kind spirit. Even the large caramel corn tin brought to mind her hospitable side.

There were also items that brought up questions. We found a confirmation letter for my grandparent's honeymoon at a resort near my family's cabin. Why did they decide to go there?

We also found journals where my grandma would only write one or two sentences each day. What made her want to keep track of her days like that? Did she intend for people to read her? Did she want her experiences to be memories people remembered?

 I am 23 and I already have thousands of memories. I cannot imagine what my grandpa has been going through as he watches us sort through his stuff.

Oh the memories from the home in Highland. The stuff might be thrown away or taken to a new house, but the memories will continue on.

late night baking.

It is 11:26pm. 
Sitting on my kitchen floor,
I smell sweet bananas filling the air. 
My favorite place in my home is my kitchen.
People naturally gather here- around the table.
It is one of the most peaceful places for me.  
Tonight, I let thoughts of a busy day and things I forgot to do pass by. 
This place is a place of peace. 

...

Earlier this evening, my friends and I were chatting about what it would be like to open a bakery. I have always thought it would be fun, but I don't know if I could actually do it. It is moments like what I experienced these last 2 hours that I would not want to exchange for the chaos of opening a small business. Baking is one thing I do when I need to clear my mind. It allows me to be creative, but also have a definite ending. I know what will turn out when I put bananas, flour, vanilla, eggs, baking soda, and a handful of other ingredients together. Baking also allows me to try new things. It can challenge me when I have to figure out what I have to substitute a missing ingredient. The end product of baking is also great because it is food.

The word alive is something I have been thinking a lot about over the last 3 months. God continues to remind me that it is important to be doing things that make me feel alive. This year, I am going to focus on what brings me joy.

Baking and cooking in general is something that gives me life. More than that, however, it is what I do after I bake. I am able to share what I have made with people. Food always tastes better when you can enjoy it at a table with other people. Baking lends itself to be a wonderful way to gather people.

Being with people also makes me feel alive.

What makes you feel alive?

concert series- a third space.

This is my latest Source update. If you want to be on my email list, please email me at jillian.wilzbacher@gmail.com. I send out stories of my experiences, what is going on at Source and the Annex, event info, and prayer requests. 
 

Hello!

Have you ever had an idea that you were unsure about? Last June, my friend Jordan and I had the idea to start hosting monthly concerts at Source. He has many connections in the Minneapolis music scene, has marketing experience, can understand what it's like to be in a band, and would go to a concert every week if he could. I understand the ins and outs of hosting a Source event, enjoy going to shows, and have PR experience. Together we make a good team. Despite these positives, I was a bit nervous to take on this task. It would be another event to add to my schedule and I wasn't sure if we would be able to get many people to come. 

After more discussion and prayer, the Fallout Concert Series was created. 

There have been three concerts thus far. Hosting them has been hard. We have had long nights because of a small number of volunteers staying till the end. Money has not flown in. Communication with some bands has been hard.

With each concert, however, we have learned numerous things. We have only heard positive feedback about the venue. Bands have asked if  they could play again. There are attendees who have come to every concert. 
  
Again, in my mind, the positives outweigh the negatives. 

Our vision for the concert series is to be a third space. A first space is one's home. A second place is one's workplace. These are the two places people spend the most time. Third spaces have been called by Ray Oldenburg, "the 'anchors' of community life and facilitate and foster broader, more creative interaction." To me, a third space is a place people can do life together. It could be a pub, a coffee shop, a music venue, a park, the neighborhood bar, etc. Third spaces are informal gathering places that become a home away from home.

www.facebook.com/events/644552228932374/

 We are still learning how to make the concerts a third space, but I see it happening. Please pray for us to find the right people to be on our monthly volunteer teams. Also, pray that we would be able to continue to build relationships with the band members and attendees.
The concerts are usually on the second Friday of each month, but this month we had to change the date. On Saturday, February 15, we are hosting a benefit concert for the Annex Network. You can click on the link to find out more information about the show.

I would love for all of you to come to this concert or another one to experience this third space. I would also encourage you to figure out what your third spaces are and be present at them. Get to know more than your barista's name, tip the waitress extra next time you go out, or become a regular somewhere. It will change your perspective on your social life and the people you interact with on a weekly basis.

Cheers!
Jillian 

To you, to the people.

Seasons are what life is made up of. Some last years and others last less than 24 hours. There have been more people than I could name that have been part of my seasons. It is a little overwhelming to think about all of the people I have known over the last 23 years. Some I have forgotten about and others I think about almost every day. Many have spent years listening and loving me. Some I have had one incredible conversation with and never saw again. People come in and out of my life. 

Today, I am grateful for all of the people. The ones who have taught me something. The people who have held me while I have cried. Everyone who has showed me grace. Those who have a way to always make me laugh. Whether it is the people who loved me during my first year, the people who are currently in my life, and everyone in between, my thanks goes out to you.

There is no way I could go through life without you.

My life has been shaped by every encounter I have had. Each interaction has made a difference, whether it was good or bad.

Cheers to you, all of you, to the people who have lived life with me.

  

*

Too bad technology was not the same 23 years ago, otherwise I would have pictures of the people who lived life with me then.

One day.

I went to Seattle, and then I came back.

Some dreams were formed, others fulfilled, and a few put on hold.
 
Locals told me that Seattle draws people in from all around, who never want to leave.
I entered into this magnetic field. 
 
There is something about this place that gives me peace. 

It could be the mountains and sea. 
Neighborhoods that each have their own flair, but all have a sense of belonging. 
Houseboats causing me to dream. 
Being able to walk or take the bus to the places I want to go.
Murky fog layered above the city in the morning, which is interrupted by the bright sun in the afternoon, and comes back again at dusk. 
Welcoming people. 

One day, these could all become norms. 
That day, however, is not today.

Many people know that I have an odd fascination for the city of Seattle. Even before I went there for the first time last year, I knew I wanted to live there. There is something about this city that I do not think I could explain unless you were in Seattle with me. I was blessed to be able to go back for a second time last month. I again had the desire to want to stay. I definitely am settled here in Minneapolis, but the idea of starting over is to some degree enticing. Making new friends is not the easiest thing a person can do, but a mentor of mine has told me, “there are good people everywhere.” That is why the idea of moving across the country is not the scariest thing to me. It would be somewhat lonely at first and emotionally draining. That is why-

If someone were to ask me, “would you move to Seattle today?” I would respond, “no, not today.”

I love the city, don’t get me wrong about that. The place I want to be right now, however, is Minneapolis.

What confirmed this was the night I got back to Minneapolis from my trip to Seattle. I unexpectedly stopped by my work for an event that was happening. Walking in, I was greeted by my neighbor and roommate. My roommate let out a scream when she saw me and gave me a tight hug. We were chatting for a few minutes, and then another friend came over to give me a hug and welcome me back. This continued as I saw more friends and neighbors. It was like I had been gone for a month. That night, I felt so loved and knew that this was my community. Hopefully, I will one day not have to vacation to Seattle. I just know for now that my home is Minneapolis. This is the place I belong.

rising sun.

Every day the sun rises. It is a promise of a new day. It is a reminder of new mercy and grace. Your love, God is always there. It will not fail. I can trust in Your promises. Help me, Lord to have more faith. Faith to ask for the small things and the big things, like the girl who told us about the children who were praying for the wells to spring up in their village and they did. I trust in you to provide support, to make a way to take a trip to Seattle, to hire a case worker for the Annex in January, to end human trafficking, to put the people in my life that need to be in it, to teach me how to have boundaries with my time, to have healthy friendships, to show my brothers how much you deeply love them and want a relationship with them, and to protect me while in Minneapolis. Jesus, you are the Shepherd of my life. I can use the sun to remind me that each day is not in my hands, but the One who came to give me abundant life. I praise your holy name.

Morning is always a peaceful time for me. This is from a journal entry I wrote while on a camping trip this summer. We slept outside under the stars so I woke up early to go see the sun rise. The pictures are from a morning walk I went on this past weekend during a retreat. The neat part about this is that some of these prayers have come to fruition. God is always faithful and the morning will always remind me of that.

thrift store stories

My roommate and I drove a few miles to the thrift store near our apartment. My car was packed full of bags and boxes full of stuff I wanted to get rid of. When we got there, neither of us were okay with only dropping stuff off. We had to go inside to look around.

We found two colorful flower couches that screamed bam when you saw them. Unfortunately, they were too big for us to buy. I found a book that is all about the moon with incredible pictures that I thought about buying. We also found a machine that is used to make a special kind of coffee that we didn't know the name of or purpose for. 

All of these items used to be owned by another person. Each has been part of someone's story. There is for sure a story about the two couches. That is what I love about going to thrift stores. I can make up a story of why someone owned loud, uncomfortable couches or a story about the person who served the coffee in the unidentifiable machine.

After awhile, we decided to look at clothing since it was $1 day.  

My roommate was looking at pants and I was a few aisles over. I heard an elderly woman say something to her. After another minute, I walked over to the aisle they were in. The woman was asking my roommate about a pair of white dress pants. After she answered her question, the conversation continued. I moved a few steps closer. We both started listening very intently to this woman because she started telling us her story.

Betty is 93 years old and volunteers at the thrift store every Thursday with a group of women. She's been doing it for 4 years to keep herself busy. She talked about the importance of working hard and staying busy. There is no point in being lazy. Betty talked about her job, family, and why she loved working at the thrift store. One last thing Betty told us was to always eat oatmeal with cinnamon (maybe that is how she looks so good for being 93). 

Hopefully, we will hear more of Betty's stories and advice when we go back on another Thursday to visit her. There is just something about being able to spend time with a person who is over four times my age.  

On this thrifting adventure, I realized that thrift stores are full of two types of stories. Stories you can make up about the items you find and stories of the people you will meet in the store.