A Pilgrim

Fun in the snow...

2010-02-13T14:06:00.000-08:00

Photos by the great Chris Linebarger:

Getting out some of my violent tendencies:

My dearling fiancé after he did some tree-hugging:

What a mystery it is when two people are knit together through the difficulties and the joys. Love has become a secret that I want to share with everyone and at the same time know that it is intimate enough that only Jason will understand our love, for each love is different. We have become witnesses to the others' heart and soul. I am left simply thankful. The 55 days left til we get married are invaluable to us and I look forward to the click of the invisible knitting needles poking, bobbing, looping, and binding these two threads together.

The Not So Silent Cup

2010-01-14T07:14:00.000-08:00

30 June 2009: Seriously consider canceling my upcoming trip to Dallas because of a bad attitude. For some reason, however, I had gotten an unreturnable ticket (I never do that!). Life would not be what it is now if I'd bought a refundable ticket.

08 July 2009: Dear Leslie picked me up from the airport (for those of you who don't know her, she is my high-kickin' mad-cookin' wonderwoman of a friend) in the late afternoon. I was in Dallas for an annual Anglican conference. When she picked me up, we started chatting in the car. She happened to mention, among other things, that Jason Staniger was also staying with them for the conference;
"Who?"
"Jason Staniger, I'm sure you've heard about him"
"I don't think so"
"Oh, well he's kind of....unique" [laughter]

Obviously, my interest was peaked.

Standing by the wet bar of Chris & Leslie's house, Chris walked in first and then what seemed like a handful of people all at once. We all started chatting about owls (a frequent topic of discussion with me) and about 5 minutes later the door opens again and in walks this tall, dark, and handsome man who seems to avoid my eye contact at all costs. Maybe he is unique in his bad attitude, I thought to myself.. Me being me, I stuck out my hand and introduced myself. It was the first time I saw his eyes, his countenance, his soul; gentle, this man is gentle. No time to linger, I was back on the owls.

The conference itself seemed inconsequential to me this year, but everything in the periphery was monumental. Leslie was asking a lot of questions. Questions about nursing school, questions about who I was and what I wanted to do. She asked about if I'd ever considered midwifery. Concurrently, because Jason was also staying with Chris & Les, we were talking. A lot. I was surprised, shocked, and at times confused as to why I was being so open with him.

My last evening in Dallas, Jason and I had offered to go get dinner rolls for Leslie. She sent a short list of items and told us where the nearest WalMart Grocery was (~2 miles away). But Jason had other plans, which I truly was ignorant to. We drove all around Dallas looking for Whole Foods because Jason won't go into WalMart. He finally pulled into a WF and looked at the list we'd been given. There, next to "Cereal" were the clear instructions that we must "do a high kick in the cereal aisle" (you thought I was joking about Leslie being a high-kickin' woman? Oh no, that's VERY true). We laughingly did some pretty fantastic high kicks in the middle of the Store and proceeded home. How many hours had we been gone?!? There's still discussion out on that, but it was somewhere around three hours.

16 July 2009: California. Work. Decisions to make about nursing school. Suffice it to say that the Lord flung doors open and shut them with more visible force than I'd ever seen before in my life. By Thursday, I knew that the decision had been made and confirmed ten times over for me to move to Dallas. My choice was to be faithful to the leading.

The fly-by: for the rest of the summer Jason & I were spending copious hours on the phone, I moved to Dallas in September, our official first date was to a U2 concert on 12 October, and were engaged on 12 January.

For those of you still with me, allow me a little more time to tell you about my fiancé, Jason Patrick Staniger:

He was born to two Croatian parents in Des Moines, though the ancestry seems to have been lost at Ellis Island. He thinks it's strange and almost funny that that was my first sentence about him, but he shares an appreciation for history so he secretly likes that I introduce him as Croatian.

His countenance is filled with kindness but flushes with mischief when his jocular humor subtly seeps out, which often has that quality of dryness which leaves the listener unsure of the appropriate response.

He has a passion for the high liturgy and coffee (separately, of course). He loves hosting people in his home. He makes the best apple pie I've ever had, and makes a killer crust (which rates pretty highly in my book).

Given five adjectives for him, I would pick: Gentle, Sincere, Honest, Funny, and Eager. He makes me laugh, and amazingly, laughs at me. Which ends up equalling a lot of laughter.

He knows that some of the greatest music is on vinyl. He has the most carefully-chosen collection of films I've ever seen. He has an eye for cinematography and story that would weave the world into my favorite novel.

He takes his shirts to be professionally pressed because "no human can achieve the right amount of stiffness and shape" that he desires from his clothing. I find this quite amusing.

His aura is a mix of blueish-silver turning yellow-red. He thinks its ridiculous and kind of funny that I just mentioned his aura. He will also google those aura colors to figure out what I meant by them. With some amount of luck he might find a legitimate guide to read them by.

We are both pretty characteristic Geminis, so having done my research, here's what our relationship looks like from astrology:

This relationship will never be boring and both partners will share an intellectual approach to life. Both will not only allow but also appreciate the freedom and variety of expression which is characteristic of Gemini. Both enjoy each other's conversation and love to cultivate the art of discussion. Wit and curiosity make them a stunning and stimulating couple, entertaining each other and the people they socialize with. If they learn to cooperate, rather than compete, they will enjoy a happy relationship.

Whew! What a relief.

And that's the beginning of who Jason is.

I am grateful to the faithful God for so ordering the lives of His people so that we might better serve Him. Every ounce of me looks forward to serving the Kingdom with Jason. I desire to follow him as He follows our Lord. I look forward to creating a home with him that is a haven for those in need.

I am thankful. I am in love.

(For his side of the story: The Cup of Silence)

Gravity (and a Southern rainstorm)

2009-12-05T08:22:00.000-08:00

The clouds roll in like Poseidon on his chariot of waves, across the expanse above. The voice of thunderclaps shatter the silence as what was dark becomes light as day for a brief moment. The moon washes out, or perhaps hides her face while none can see her, as lightning illumines the earth - well, at least the part I can see. No drops of water serve as messengers, no precursors given.

Then all torrents break loose.

Someone turned on the cosmic showerhead to drown and drench me. Why does it smell so fresh when I know it is bringing with each little drop the "impurities" of the air - smog, dust, pollen, and all of China's pollution? But I don't smell chow mein - not even as the drops get bigger. I smell freshness, and it is lovely.

Over my face and down my neck the streams descend - apparently gravity can even bully these storms around. Pulling, always pulling everything to that place called "ground". Ground may not be the prettiest thing ever, dull, brown and rocky, but it has gravity on its side. Perhaps gravity knows something I don't. I know that it keeps me here on the ground, and right now pulls all the elements down to it. I have become merely a bridge from sky to ground, with water walking (sometimes running) over me.

I seek power, not for myself, but in anything which man cannot contain. This rain has power, this gravity has power, this wind (oh, this wind!) has power - and NOTHING man can do could contain it or stop it, govern, harness, or rule it. So I love it. And so does my hair. It likes to break out of its bun and be free and wild, surrendered to the forces. Powerless, alone, free; if it stormed like this everyday I might just start a revolution. I don't know against who or what, but I know gravity would be on my side.

The Ear

2009-10-09T17:28:00.000-07:00

This amazingly intricate structure contains the smallest bone in the body, the stapes - I remember that section of the ear because I say the parts in the same rhythm we are taught to say "The Niña, Pinta and the Santa Maria" - try it: "The Malleus, Incus, and littlest Stapes". Well, it worked for me at least. The Tympanic parts make sense as well, because timpanis make lots of sound (notice I don't say they make lots of music, it's a much different thing altogether). The various forms of "Cochlea" also ring memory bells because it is Latin for "snail shell" and came from the Greek "kokhlos" (land snail) - and were I a snail, I would want a window in my shell, so am very excited to find that the snail of the inner ear has just that - the "Round Window" (NOT to be compared to a square window, which are much more commonplace and less hobbitish, and therefore less appealing to me). I usually think it slightly pompous when people name discoveries after themselves, as is the case with the "Eustachian tube", so I can also keep track of that guy hiding in there.

You see, I understand these things about the ear, as a unit it makes perfect sense to me, even the anatomical bits, all the way out the External Auditory Canal into the wide world of sound waves. What makes absolutely NO sense to me at all is the Auricula. I know it has the anthelix, scapha, tragus, crus, cymba, fossa, helix, lobule, incisura, concha, and sulcus, those things I had to study in college A&P. But somehow the professor skipped the intriguing part, the part where the whole class

STOPPED.

And wondered...

WHY?!?

Because ears are just plain strange lookin'!

Pretend for a moment with me that you have never seen a face before. A semi-conical symmetry of eyes, nose, mouth, cheekbones, and chin making a perfect frame for that illusive thing called the "countenance"......then, as you muse upon the well-laid plan of the face - POP! - what in the sand-hill blazes are those thing?!? Just stickin' out, always uneven with one another on the horizontal plane of the face, bazaar curves and dents and dimples. Some people have tried to reconcile their oddity by piercing them here and there . Now, being a pragmatist to the core, I can find uses for them: they can improve or tie together an outfit, and are wonderful for tucking hair behind (they are amazing at doing this, and if you have short hair or no hair at all due to hereditary balding, I am very sorry that you have not experienced this). And, for some, it may serve as a welcome distraction from the main part of the face.

Am I just being weird? Usually. But really, ears are quirky, wacky, and just plain crazy. Spend a day looking at ears, and I think you will concur.

(I just can't get over how they're just stuck there, on the side of the face, pretending they belong with such confidence that we believe them!!)

Demons: An Introduction & Historical Overview

2009-09-30T12:11:00.000-07:00

Contrary to the thought of many in churches and societies today, demons are not only real but they are actively involved in the world and people around us. The pervading ignorance regarding the fallen angels has been detrimental to the church, and thereby, the world. When the active power of demons comes up, people get fidgety and say that it’s not for them, or proclaim that they are Protestants and it’s only the Romans who need exorcists. While the audacious kind say, “we don’t deal with that kind of thing in America.” Others say that in the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ, Satan was bound and will be until the Day of Judgement. These, however, are not the ideas of the Scriptures, the historical Church, or the Reformers.

In City of God, St. Augustine was heavily devoted to describing the real presence of the Devil and the interaction of he and his demons with humankind. The Devil fell from grace and is the Great Deceiver with a plan to draw men away from the worship of God. Yet not only Satan fell, but a host of angels with him, who also are devoted to deceiving men, turning God’s realities into lies. He does not present just a general involvement of the demons, but a specific one. Augustine is very clear that the Devil, the adversary to Christians, is now working in the world, seeking to deceive whom he may. I Peter 5:8 bespeaks this saying, “Be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Resist him.” Many other places in Scripture also describe him as the Enemy of God and His people (cf. Ephesians 6:11; James 4:7; I John 3:8).

Satan, however, is only one angel, though he is the most powerful, and so he has employed the other fallen angels in his service since his fall. The demons, though of lesser power than Satan himself, are more powerful than humans are because they are angels. Just as the good angels can protect and guard men, so can the evil angels deceive and harm men. Augustine believed that “their powers of influence were enormous: they could so interfere with the physical basis of the mind as to produce illusions, etc….” Some went so far as to assert that Augustine believed that “the human race is ‘the Devil’s fruit-tree, his own property, from which he may pick his fruit;, it is merely a ‘plaything of demons.’ It is they who are seen as active, and man as merely passive.”

Luther, who is known to have interesting interactions with demons, says that one of the reasons he “should not wish to have free choice given to [him is that he] should be unable to stand firm amid so many assaults of demons, seeing that even one demon is mightier than all men.” He too calls the world “the Kingdom of Satan” and says that Satan “holds captive to his will all who are not snatched from him by the Spirit of Christ.”

Calvin also follows in the footsteps of Augustine saying, “All that Scripture teaches concerning devils aims at arousing us to take precaution against their stratagems and contrivances, and also to make us equip ourselves…and ought to fire us to an unceasing struggle against him.” To our brethren that think the demons have no active power around us and even with us, Calvin says, “lest any persons, entangled in that error, while thinking themselves without an enemy, become more slack and heedless about resisting the Prince of this World (John 12:31).”

Why, if it is the history of the Church to teach Christians about demons, have so many (dare I say most?) left this out? The Romans at least still have trained exorcists that are available and used frequently around the world. And oddly enough, the charismatic and Pentecostal clans have a more historical view of demons. Perhaps I have just been the lucky recipient of a father who has done numerous exorcisms and trained his children what it means to “be on the guard” but I don’t think so. When the Scriptures warn Christians about something, it ought to be paid attention to – particularly when it is about such a character as Satan and his minions.

Those who deny that much of “that stuff” goes on in America I have no answer because they are much like a child that walks through a snake-infested desert oblivious and completely defenseless, save the father that walks by his side sparing him from the venomous teeth. In this illustration though, the child will grow up and learn about the danger of the snakes, which is more than can be said for most who choose to deny the real and active workings of demons.

The last opponent says that Satan was bound at Gethsemane. This comes from Revelation 20:2, John’s futuristic revelation says, “[God] laid hold of that serpent of old, who is the Devil and Satan, and bound for a thousand years.” The key here is that this binding is going to happen in the Day of Judgement. Now, Satan was trampled by the seed of a virgin mother, but the freedom that he had in Job and has in the New Testament appears the same. And one day that same seed of woman will bind him for eternity.

St. Paul said, “Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against…spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.” We as Christians should assume that Paul meant that there really, really was a war going on that we needed to be prepared for. And all this is not to say that we are to fear the roamer of this earth or his angels, for the Holy Spirit which lives within us is infinitely stronger than the demons. I am also not saying that we should be binding and loosing all over the place just for good conscience’ sake, but it should also not be a shock or uncommon happening when someone casts out a demon or talks to one. The historical Church Catholic has had this mindset of demons, and we should follow her wisdom praying for defense “against sin, the flesh, and the devil.”

Ephesians 6:10 "be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might. 11 Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. 12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age,[c] against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. 13 Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.
14 Stand therefore, having girded your waist with truth, having put on the breastplate of righteousness, 15 and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; 16 above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one. 17 And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God; 18 praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, being watchful to this end with all perseverance and supplication for all the saints"

Where am I?!?

2009-09-24T14:58:00.000-07:00

That's all for now. When I've slept I'll wax poetic for y'all.

Nostalgic Starry Moment

2009-09-10T11:14:00.000-07:00

I would never disrespect the moon in all her beauty - but in her absence such glories fill the heavens! Like small woodland animals who only appear in my absence, or when they think I do not see - so do these stars and planets come forth while Luna's back is turned. Three skies I will always remember, they are imprinted on the dome of my mind: the first because it was the first time I wondered at the expanse, the second because of with whom it was shared, the third because I was alone and my thoughts were free to roam without any inhibition from star to galaxy to constellations I have no name for, nor need for one.

Curious to me that these lights appear best when the Ruler of the night is away from home. I wonder if they feel the short-lived liberation of a people right after the victory of a revolution: all in revelry until in sobriety they stop their dances as the fear of unbridled liberty creeps over them - in the darkness anything can happen.

Tonight they truly do dance, the scholars call this a "meteor shower, but I know that the little starts have gotten tired of wearing shoes and staying put, and want to jump into a river yet unbeknownst to them - a planetary pool of delight. The larger ones, they leave a longer tail behind as they are pushed out of their nesting places by the older ones. "Time to fly" their parents say. My very favorite, though, are the ones which linger a moment to make sure I am watching - these are the wise sages of the bunch, and as they move slowly across the years of timelessness, they impart wisdom to all they pass. It is the echoes of these voices which pierce the imaginary divide between them and me, and I am wiser for their words unspoken yet comprehended.

I sadden knowing the starry host will soon be hid from me, not by light of moon, but by light of man as I move to a "city". I can only hope some of those which I have come to know so well will peek out from time to time to tell me the stories I am missing, the tales told while I'm away. And perhaps they'll fall in my direction. I can always hope.

My Semi-Scandalous Post of the Month

2009-09-01T20:51:00.000-07:00

Menstrual-Cramp Tutorial for Men.

Just because I think y'all need to know why we feel what we feel:
What we refer to simply as "cramps" is actually called "Dysmenorrhea" in the medical field. There are a few ways to medically describe what's happening in there to cause such pain. The first thing you need to know is that every month of the female's life her body is preparing for fertilization. Part of this process includes the thickening of the cellular layer of the uterus. So, in preparation the innermost lining, called the endometrium, thickens and readies itself for implantation. If this doesn't occur, then that layer of cells begins sloughing off, tearing itself away from the other layers of the uterus (imaging the skin on your arm start separating and then falling off in pieces - change that, how about just being ripped off in pieces). During this process of sloughing, the prostaglandin starts producing this hormone which causes the uterus to contract, temporarily shutting down blood flow to the uterus, depriving the muscles therein of oxygen and other necessary nutrients. This, supposedly, decreases the pain we would feel if all the nerves were working properly.

So, at the end of the day what you need to know is that our uterus' are oxygen-deprived and having a layer of skin ripped off - which hurts. A lot. In fact, sometimes it feels like a bonfire has been started in our abdomen and little savages are hopping around digging their axes into the sides of our uterus.

Not fun. Have some compassion.

The Heart

2009-08-25T16:25:00.000-07:00

"Nowadays the word heart always sounds a little naive or commonplace. When I was young it could still be spoken without embarrassment, but now it's a term no one uses anymore. On the rare occasions when it gets mentioned, the reference isn't to the heart in the fullest sense of the word, but only to some malfunction, anemic tissue caused by a blocked artery, say, or problems with an auricle; there's no longer so much as a hint about the heart as the center, the essence of human nature. I've often wondered why it's been ostracized like this.
"He who puts his trust in his own heart is a fool" - Augusto often used to say that, quoting the Bible. But why on earth should such a person be a fool? Is it because the heart is like a combustion chamber? Because there's darkness inside there, darkness and fire? The mind is as modern as the heart is ancient. These days people who follow their hearts are considered to be close to the animal world, to uninhibited nature, while those who follow reason are close to the upper spheres of reflection. But suppose things aren't like that, suppose they're just the opposite? Suppose it's this excess of reason that's starving our lives?"
-susanna tamaro

18 August 2009

2009-08-20T04:26:00.000-07:00

When I awoke this morning, all was going to be well.

Then I had lunch with some lovely people, and enjoyed the wife's dessert immensely. Five minutes later, when my mouth felt like fire ants were fighting a war in there, I calmly asked if there had been walnuts in the dessert. "Why yes," the kind woman responded, "finely ground for the best flavor." Benadryl. Home. Bed. 2 Hours of induced sleep. Check.

Feeling I had timed it all spectacularly, I went to work feeling quite well, though my mouth was perhaps a little itchy still. Minor offense indeed. I should here suffice it to say that my Lymphatic System is working spectacularly these days. The walnut bit went off alright, so why not add a little something to the pot and see if the ol' body held up?

How about.....oh yes, a scorpion sting........make that a triple shot.

The little bugger had crawled up inside my pantleg while I was working, because, really, I need more excitement in my life.

Anecdotal Sketch of Modern Medicine

2009-08-17T12:33:00.000-07:00

The emotion bank of your body is monitored by a chemical called Serotonin, which can be manipulated and altered by nearly every component of your life, from the food you eat to the colors you wear. Recent studies have focused on these small clues to explore the idea that emotions are completely, one hundred percent dominated by exterior, mundane components. This means that, since emotions are not abstractly volitional or as some like to think, spiritual, then they can also be ruled by medicine. This has been tested on such conditions as ADD and has proven that changing emotions is as simple as putting a Band-Aid on a cut.

Given these facts, we can examine how this plays into the rest of the body. According to modern psychological and psychiatric studies, the human emotions or moods directly effect the health of the entire human body. And these moods are effected and often caused by vitamin deficiencies, making them unavoidable. For example, “violent inclinations or feelings are caused by a lack of Vitamins D and C, as well as Magnesium and Iron.”1

This means, consequently, that if people study the main factors in their mood swings and take the corresponding natural remedies, the world will gradually progress into a utopian society lacking negative emotions. Psychologist William Glasser believes that if we learn to take advantage of what “Mother Nature has given to us, life might be unbelievably joyful.” Psychiatrist David Burns even more optimistically observes that, “using medicine will free you from fears, phobias, panic attacks, nervousness, anger, self-defeat, and improve your health all around.” The key is to understand that the emotions are not a result of people’s volitional responses, but a consequent of nerves, environment, and diet, all of which can be controlled with modern medicine. As soon as people believe this simple truth, then we will have found the antidote for hate, crime, and violence, and the key to a peaceful life and society.

On Petting Trees

2009-08-15T12:49:00.000-07:00

"Touching a tree is no different from touching any other living thing, in fact, even better. Why is it better? Because if you scratch a dog's head, for example, you indeed feel something warm and vibrant, but beneath that there's always a tremor of agitation. Perhaps dinnertime is coming soon, or not soon enough; perhaps he's longing for you or just recalling a bad dream. Do you see? Dogs, like people, have too many thoughts, too many requirements. Neither dog nor man can attain peace and happiness by himself alone.
Trees are different. From the moment it sprouts until the day it dies, a tree stays fixed in the same spot. Its roots are nearer than anything else to the heart of the earth, and its crown is nearer to the sky. Sap courses through it from top to bottom, from bottom to top. It expands and contracts according to the daylight. It waits for rain, it waits for sun, it waits for one season and then another, it waits for death. Not one of the things that enable it to live depends on its will. It exists and that's all. Now do you see why trees are so good to stroke? Because they stand so staunchly, because their breathing is so slow and so serene and so very deep."
-susanna tamaro

Friendship: In English

2009-08-09T11:31:00.001-07:00

The last post was me sorting. What I know right now is this: I am overwhelmed with Friendship in my life. In my early years there were friendships that were built for eternity and everything in between. But as youth faded I became lonely for the first time, as every friendship ran shallower than those early ones, and faster - more transitory all together. But as I take a moment's pause now I see true Friendship in many faces - more than I ever could have asked for. Three in particular that have become part of me, our beings are now inextricable from one another. They are unexpected to most, comic to some. They have arisen without invitation nor expectation, but their roots have wound and bound me.

And now I am leaving this place. I know that transplanting Friendships is much more difficult than the rarest plant, and more painful. I know the roots remain, the seeds, the flower, but that our ground will no longer be shared brings tears of sorrow. I find myself desiring winter, so we can all freeze in this moment - but alas, the sun in shining out my window, beckoning autumnal change.

So, in English: I am scrambling for each and every moment here, to encase memories in impenetrable timelessness. And I am sorrowful. For the first time in my life, it hurts to leave.

our sad *cheers*

Friendship: the optional love

2009-08-08T16:46:00.001-07:00

C.S. Lewis outlined Friendship as that love which is not necessary to the biological functions of humanity. Without Eros none of us would have been begotten and without Affection none of us would have been reared; but we can live and breed without Friendship. The former two can be felt tugging at your guts and fluttering in your diaphragm. But in Friendship - in that luminous, tranquil, rational world of relationships freely chosen - you got away from all that. This alone, of all the loves, seemed to raise you to the level of gods or angels. (An example to show the innate difference of perspective here would be that lovers are normally depicted in the mind's eye as being face to face, absorbed in each other; Friends are side by side, absorbed in some common interest.)

I sometimes wonder if Lewis would say that there is inherent value in Friendship because of (not in spite of) the fact that it is not :necessary" to human existence in the way the other loves are. Being entirely volitional, Friendship can become a thing unto itself, serving those who enter into it either to heaven or hell - which are real but not tangible.

Love and Reason

2009-07-30T15:52:00.000-07:00

"Charity, as we have seen, is the soul's natural light, and was created by the Author of Nature for seeing God. There are two eyes to this spiritual vision, forever straining to see the light which is God, and their names are Love and Reason....And when I say that these two help each other, I mean that reason instructs love, and love enlightens reason. Reason merges into the affectivity of love, and love consents to be limited by reason. Then it is that they can achieve great things."
-William of St Thierry (emphasis mine)

Life in Faith

2009-07-20T12:18:00.000-07:00

"The ideal is faith incorporated into our whole life and refashioning it by its influence. It is the shining of faith into a soul which has gradually been made capable of penetrating the mysteries of faith by its attempt to yield itself to what Scripture calls the 'obedience of faith'. By a lively understanding-that is, the understanding of a heart attuned to the heart of God who speaks to it-the soul will thereby discover living truths, or better still, a single living truth, in what at the beginning seemed a mere conglomeration of enigmas."
- Bouyer, The Cistercian Heritage

The Place Imperturbable

2009-07-13T13:46:00.000-07:00

With brambles and thorns my soul was overtaken. They crept in over time, slowly vining their way up through the soil of my heart, choking out one virtue at a time as I became a sin collector. Two weeks ago I stopped and looked at the garden of my life, and found that I could no longer distinguish the thorns from the flowers, that I was in a field of my own making yet unrecognizable to my once-enlightened eyes. There I stood, not knowing where to step or what to do. The skies of my life had been so overcast that the light of the Immortal seemed fragmented through clouded layers of earth and flesh. The din of my folly had deafened the ear of my heart.

Then that Light which captures blinded eyes with sight shone upon my soul, my heart, my mind, my being. Calling out as in the days of Eden for me to show myself, to be exposed so that I might be clothed again. I found myself kneeling before my King and Judge, rays of light through stained glass rested a rainbow of hope and promise upon my head as the Table was laid. "Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give thee rest." Rest which leads to Restoration and a Remembrance of the Divine.

And I returned to that Place Imperturbable. That place where love cannot be forsaken unless it first forsakes. I remembered the Trinity. I remembered my holy family - Father, Mother, Brothers and Sisters. I remembered my calling and my cross. Just like Israel was told to remember, so I remember. The words of the Shema even now ring in my ears. I have heard and now I must go forth to battle for the Lord is my God.

Christ has weeded and sifted me this week. He has gently but firmly put my hands back on the plow, and by His grace I will not look back, that I might be fit for the Kingdom of God (Luke 9:62).

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Invisible people

2009-04-07T11:27:00.000-07:00

See what is invisible and you will see what to write. It is the invisible people I want to live with. The ones that we walk past everday, the ones we sometimes become. The ones in books who live only in someones mind's eye.

- Bobby Long via John Travolta

Kolkata 7

2009-03-10T03:35:00.001-07:00

“Blessed be the Lord, Who daily loads us with benefits, the God or our salvation!
Our God is the God of salvation.” Ps 68:19

In the humid heat of a pollution-smothered sun I walked through the streets of Calcutta for the last time. Someone wrote an elegy to Calcutta while walking down these same streets: “this historic city may be among the most unpleasant environments on the face of the earth: the masses of people, the choking pollution, the clogged drains, the cramped bustees, the jumble of carts, the beggars and crippled children, the fetid piles of refuse being picked over by emaciated mothers in soiled saris, flea-bitten pariah dogs, and wildly cawing crows”. And that was only in his introduction. Calcutta has drawn the attention of many: Mark Twain said it was “enough to make the brass doorknob mushy”, Winston Churchill said he would “always be glad to have seen it but it would be unnecessary for [him] ever to see it again”, Rudyard Kipling called it “the city of dreadful night”, and Bengal’s first Governor called it “the most wicked place in the universe.”

While it is comforting to know that so many leave Calcutta with the same feelings of repugnance as I have, I would be grievously remiss to overlook the overarching and intertwining goodness of God in my work there. To claim the promises of God found in Scripture on behalf of the widows, orphans, destitute, and forsaken in Calcutta brings a hope that is not often written about. So while I still do not know the depth nor breadth of God’s purposes for taking me to Calcutta, I can praise Him for the work which He has accomplished there, and share with you so that you might join in giving thanks to our gracious God and Father. All of the ministry houses are called Asha Neketon, once again meaning “Shelter of Hope”:

Asha Neketon Sodpor: This was the first trade school/ministry house that we opened, and now has 15 women involved making scarves, handbags, tablecloths/runners, handkerchiefs, and greeting cards. This is going to be the foundational ministry house, so I spent most of my time with the women there, teaching and preparing them to teach others after my departure. There are four women who will continue to be trained by the pastor and his wife so that they can begin other schools around the city.

Asha Neketon Village: There are three women working for us in the village now, one of them is particularly skilled and masterful in her work, so we have asked her to come to the city and teach at the other schools for a few weeks. God is raising up leaders from within all of the schools, which is quite a blessing.

Asha Neketon Street: We could not get this sorted out entirely before I left, but we have the location and women chosen to be involved. When two leaders have been trained from AN Sodpor they will go to the Street program and begin teaching there. This will hopefully transpire within six months time.

Asha Neketon Slum: One that I have not mentioned yet, located in the slums of South Kolkata, where a tailoring school has been started with 8 women. They come and learn how to tailor clothes, particularly clothes for school uniforms, and then sell them to local schools. In the upcoming months this will hopefully be expanded to include the making of the other items as well.

God has done amazing things during my time in Kolkata, and I look forward to seeing Him complete His purposes, whatever they might be. I had gone with the intention of starting one trade school, and watched as He prepared the way to have four opened. This was just one of the ways I was reminded that He accomplishes beyond what we could ever imagine!

I have now had some time in the UK recovering, reflecting, and relaxing. I am pursuing some different leads on places to sell the goods that the women are making, and will continue speaking to churches and organizations about the work being done in Kolkata. I will also be spending some time in Ireland debriefing with a dear friend and missionary, which I am very much looking forward to.

Prayer petitions:
Finding a market for the items and lining them up with the Maity’s
That through my presentations churches might be challenged and encouraged by the state of believer’s in Kolkata
For my debriefing and reflection time

Thank you for your essential part in this ministry. I anticipate one more Update after I return to follow up with the fruition of these prayer requests.

In the peace of the Lord,
Nicole de Martimprey

Kolkata 6

2009-02-21T21:08:00.000-08:00

“You are the light of the world. A city that is on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:14ff

As I meditated upon how I would describe the Christians here, this passage kept coming to mind. The overarching analogy of my time here would be the difference of darkness and light (as can be noted in my former correspondences). I assure you that the darkness of the last update will herein be juxtaposed with lambency.

When St. Paul wrote to the church at Corinth about the glory of the New Covenant, he reminded them how the Israelites could not look steadily on Moses’ face “because of the glory of his countenance, which glory was passing away” (3:7ff). He continues to posit the question, “how will the ministry of the Spirit not be more glorious?” Through our birth into that Spirit, we become partakers of the eternal excelling glory which will by no means pass away and that “glory of countenance” which emanated from Moses’ face shines in the countenances of the believers here.

When I walk into one of the ministry houses or churches here it is as though the weight of hopelessness is lifted. The sword of death which falls heavy upon those outside passes over the lintels of these faithful ones. When you look at their lives, it is very apparent that the fruits of the Spirit have replaced the works of evil and their lives begin to shine with Christ. The fruition of faith seen in the life of a single convert is amazing. In most cases there is the anticipation that within a short amount of time the whole family will convert to Christianity because of the testimony and life-witness of the one person.

The words of Sheldon Vanauken come to mind, that “the best argument for Christianity is Christians: their joy, their certainty, their completeness.” Here it is quite a winning case! The soil which has been spoiled through centuries of idol-worship is crying out for a crop-rotation which will offer love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. And God is using the faithful lives of His saints here to plow in hope just as they have been partakers in the Hope of the world (I Cor. 9:10f).

I could give you numerous examples in this moment of converts who have dedicated their lives to the service of the church here. Six are teaching in schools that minister to children from the slums, the streets, and the red light. Four are nearly ready to take over teaching at the Shelters of Hope that we have opened. Twelve spend hours a week listening to me teach about HIV/AIDS/STD and general health care - these are the ones I am teaching how to teach the same material to other women so that the education can continue long after my departure. Between 30-50 come twice a week to church to hear me teach on the basics of Christianity.
A few weeks ago I was teaching about a dozen women (mixed Hindu & Christian) about necessity of forgiveness in our lives (both accepting and giving). Preparing for this was difficult for me, as a keen sense of unworthiness flooded my thoughts - these women had been sinned against in more ways than I could ever imagine, and I was teaching them about the need to forgive? I must have tried to change the lesson for that night three or four times and somehow every passage or principle I looked at took me right back to forgiveness. I prayed for grace and humility and taught that evening. The next day the Maity’s told me that there had been an heated argument between five of those women that week and they had severed relationships with each other. That night after the gathering they reconciled with one another through forgiveness. I once again saw undeniably that God’s Word is true and He uses unworthy vessels to spread His truth to the world. Thanks be to God that His Word is not dependent on our experience or knowledge and may my soul be kept from the pride that would think it was.

Thank you for your faithful prayers. This next week is full of teaching engagements and preparing leaders at the Shelter of Hope who can sustain the school once I leave. There is quite a long list of things which have to be completed in terms of infrastructure, and it can be quite overwhelming (like having the women open bank accounts, how to buy the raw materials, keeping records of funds and production, etc...). Your prayers are desired for continued daily strength, clarity and efficiency in the details of the infrastructure for the schools, and that God would continue to bless the ministries He has begun here.

Together in Service,
Nícole de Martimprey

Kolkata 5

2009-02-13T03:38:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,

The latest update I will not be posting here because it contains sensitive and mature material that I do not want publicly posted. If you would like to receive it, please email me directly at: ndemartimprey@gmail.com. I apologize for the inconvenience.

In Peace, Nicole

Kolkata 4

2009-02-09T19:51:00.000-08:00

“Blessed by the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope.” I Pet. 1:3

At the end of another week and the beginning of a new one I meditate upon the Living Hope. There is nothing stoic about the hope we have been begotten into - it is alive. It is that constant which we wake up in every day, live in every moment, and pray to bring others into. Here the difference between the lifeless hope of the Hindu idols contrasts strikingly with the living hope seen in the lives of the believers and churches. The joy, the peace, and the love found in the eyes of the Christians here pierce the cloud of despair and attract the hungry souls that walk these streets. It is a blessing to witness and become a part of the Living Hope in Kolkata.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” Ps. 46:1
Asha Neketon: Shelter of Hope
Monday marked the opening of the first “Shelter of Hope”, the name that all the trade schools will have. We started with just 8 women/girls to begin with, and when it stabilizes we will expand to 15. It was a difficult week for a number of reasons, but one of them was the contracting process with the women. I had written a number of requirements that the women had to agree to. They had to sign a contract which included:
They will not prostitute themselves while attending the trade school. (We tried to communicate that this is the Lord’s work and His money they will be earning, and if they choose even once to earn money by the flesh, we will remove them from the program).
Each day they will sit and listen as one of the church leaders prays, reads the Word (using a modified lectionary), and gives an exhortation. Together they will recite or sing a Psalm, though it is not compulsory for them to participate verbally they must be present.

There is no pressure for them to convert to Christianity, and certainly no altar-call approach taken by the church here, but there is also no disguising that this work is done as a ministry in and by Jesus Christ, the True God. And that will be proclaimed outrightly.

Wednesday we started the Asha Neketon in the village I mentioned in my last update, for now just two women out there, and next week when we have time to commit some more time and oversight there, we plan to expand it to 8 women.

As for starting a school in the area of low-end prostitution (with women who live in these shelters pictured here), there are some difficulties we need to work through. The building we have is right on the side of the street, and on a street corner which is piled high with rotting trash, cats, dogs, and rats. More of an impediment, the street corner is also the unofficial toilet of the block, so there is a fairly constant stream of men urinating about 20 feet from the entrance to the building. There is no way to get into the building without first walking through/by this corner. Though we’re not quite sure what we should or could do about it, I will share one humorous attempt we made to remedy the situation:
There are idol “houses” all over the place here, at least one per block, and people lay flowers, pray, and offer food to the various idols. Well, Diganta had this idea that if we took one of the idols, in this case, a quite elaborately painted goddess a few feet tall, and placed it on the corner where the men come, maybe they would stop toileting there. Figuring that there was nothing to lose, we waited and watched. The first man came by, with a small flickering of puzzlement on his face as he looked at the goddess. But then, sure enough, he proceeded to urinate on the goddess he had no doubt prayed to that very morning. Our plan didn’t serve the desired purpose, but oh my goodness did it keep us laughing for hours! What a picture of the futility of their gods!

I would ask for prayers for that particular place, that we might know what is best to be done. Also for guidance as we choose just a handful of prostitutes out of the thousands to join the schools. My health remains fairly stable, so thank you for your continued prayers in that arena. Thank you for the faithful petitions that you raise before the Throne, they are needed companions in this work.

Blessings and peace,
Nicole de Martimprey

Kolkata 3

2009-02-03T04:28:00.000-08:00

“O Lord our God, under the shadow of Thy wings let us hope. Protect us and bear us up. You will bear us up, yes, from our infancy until our gray hairs you will bear us up. For our strength, when it is from you, is strength indeed; but when it is our own, it is weakness.” St. Augustine, Confessions
Would that I could write all that has transpired in the past week! Unfortunately, if I did, very few of you would actually read the epistle that this update would become (and when I say a “few of you”, I mean my mother...). In the last update I wrote that things were looking good for starting two trade schools rather than just one. With joy, then, I will recount the story of the events that have taken place to begin yet another one in a village 1-2 hrs outside of Kolkata.

One of the women here has converted to Christianity and now has dedicated her life to ministering to street women/prostitutes here in Kolkata. She is originally from this village outside of Kolkata, but when her husband died and she subsequently got boils, she became an outcast from her father’s house. She came to Kolkata and like most women, joined the sex trade. She had not seen her family in six years, but informed us that her niece did wonderful embroidery work on scarves/saris and offered to show us if we would drive her to the village. In need of more ideas and the opportunity to talk to someone experienced in this trade, we agreed.

We weeded our way out of the busy streets of the city, and I saw the first bit of green earth since I’ve been here. But one sight did not change: even here on the roadside by the rice fields were women adorned and painted, ready to serve a passerby’s pleasure. At length we came to this village of a few hundred people, at the heart of which is a small bamboo house for the goddess of wisdom who stands in lifeless vanity while children dance before her.

For a couple hours this girl showed us her handi-work, which was beautifully colored and skillfully made. Through the Maity’s translations, I was able to ask many questions about the designs, and materials, etc... And then Diganta & Leena turned to me and asked me if we should pay her something to make some scarves/handkerchiefs for us. I was a bit confused because we were so far out from the city that it didn’t seem practical to have her make things for us when we had women in the city ready, in need, and creative enough to do it. Seeing my pause, Leena said with excitement, “Nícole, this village has never heard the gospel, and if we have a reason to be here, we can bring the presence of Christ with us and pray for the conversion of the whole village.” I teared up because it is never about the business or the practical for the Maity’s, it is about claiming souls (and lots of them) for the Kingdom. I pray for such a worldview to be engrained in me.

So, we will be visiting the village again and with the Lord’s help choose some of those painted women on the side of the road to join the trade school. And more importantly, the Spirit of YWHW will be made known there as well. And so for a sum of less than $200 a village may be converted.

This story would not be complete if I didn’t add the food component of it. Indians are very hospitable, and so the family there cooked lunch for us. This was my first meal outside of a semi-controlled environment, so I must say I was a bit nervous. The outdoor kitchen humming with flies and the water coming from who-knows-where, I prayed for protection as well as the grace to eat whatever was put in front of me. Two large plates of dry curried puffed rice mixed with potatoes came out for all of us to share, nothing scary, so off to a good start. But then came our lunch plates (plates here are the equivalent of a 16” metal pizza pan). Oh my, I was in trouble. There was a four cup mountain of cooked rice surrounded by four different kinds of unidentified curries and a soup bowl of dahl to go with it. All in all I would say there was about 7-8 cups of food in front of me. Lucky me, I got more than everybody else because 1) I was the white guest and 2) the hostess thought I was too thin.

Right. I started in, fast. Thankfully I had had a couple weeks to practice the no-silverware, hands-on approach to eating, and since everyone eats really quickly here, I ate as fast as I could. I knew that there was no way I could get all that down if I took my time. Needless to say, I wasn’t feeling so well and hurried our departure just a bit, which was delayed because they wanted to pick fresh coconuts so that we could have the milk. Full glass of coconut milk went down with a good amount of difficulty and esophageal resistance. Then more than an hour drive through bumpy roads, 85 degrees, and humidity. Though I didn’t get sick, I’m not quite sure my stomach has forgiven me.

Thank you for your prayers and notes of encouragement once again. My lung status varies from day to day, but staying within a functional range. I would ask for one particular prayer request: I am trying to find some stores/co-ops/businesses in the US that would contract to buy the products these women are making. And perhaps someone who can help and advise me on the business side of things when I return. If you have thoughts, ideas, or would like to help with this, I would appreciate it greatly.

May the Lord be with you,

Nicole de Martimprey

Kolkata Update 2

2009-01-28T19:29:00.000-08:00

“I will praise You with my whole heart; Before the gods I will sing praises to You. I will worship towards Your holy temple, and praise Your name. For Your lovingkindness and Your truth, for You have magnified Your word above all Your name. In the day when I cried out, You answered me, and made me bold with strength in my soul.” Ps 138:1

The anecdote of the day: I made a child cry - and not in a good way. This five year old boy started crying when I sat on the ground next to him. In Hindi he cried to his teacher: “who is this white person? She is too white, I am scared!” Always winning over the children...

~~~

With wonder and amazement I write again, overwhelmed by the goodness of God. It seems He has flung wide the portals and is accomplishing His work regardless of what we have humanly seen as impasses. In the past three days I have already seen transpire what we had planned two weeks to complete, and the Maity’s (the Indian missionaries I am working with) are filled with such excitement to see things unfold before us. It is one of those very pregnant moments in life when you are used as the instrument of hope in other people’s lives. And I am thankful for it.

We have determined that starting a trade school right in the heart of the red light district is not feasible right now. However, another place nearby has been provided at no cost, and it now appears that it is the wiser and safer place to conduct the work. In addition to this, I visited a slum children’s ministry this morning that is in an area of low-end prostitution (both women and children) and the building that is already being rented out and used for the children in the mornings is available for use in the afternoons. Though it would be a smaller school (~10 women/girls), it now appears that we might be able to open the doors of two trade schools (they will be called “Asaha Neketon”, “Shelter of Hope”). Instead of making jewelry, we are exploring making shawls/scarves for an international market. Cloth is in abundance here, and very cheaply bought, but sewing machines are not, so I am thinking through anything that can be made with beautiful fabric by hand. Scarves with beaded/braided ends was my first thought, looking into some others, but if any of you have some ideas regarding handcrafts with cloth that are easily taught and learned and don’t require machinery, please let me know! I would appreciate any input.

Would that I could recount the many stories that barrage my ears, eyes and soul every hour! The forgotten of the world surround me, and in the midst of the darkness the only true Light becomes increasingly the only beacon of hope, the only answer, the only redemption I can share.

I will try to write more regular updates, and attempt to keep them short enough for you to read. At the end of the week I will make a decision regarding the length of my stay. This will give the medication time to be in full effect and my body to be more adjusted. It is, however, nearly certain that my time will be shortened due to the air quality (or lack thereof).

Thank you for your prayers, your faithful petitions are coming to fruition before my eyes in wonderful ways.

In Christ’s strength,
Nicole de Martimprey

Kolkata Update 1

2009-01-26T01:43:00.000-08:00

26 January 2009

“Now I know that the Lord saves His anointed; He will answer him from His holy heaven With the saving strength of His right hand.” Ps. 20:6

Greetings in the God Who created the heavens and earth.

I arrived safely in Kolkata after about 24 hours of travel, and was greeted by Diganta & Leena Maity, the directors of the mission here. I will try to paint the scene for you, that you might understand what is to come in future updates. If you have ever seen pictures of Mother Teresa’s Calcutta work, then you have seen what the streets around me look like. Dead rats and cats litter the streets while bone-thin stray dogs make a meal of them. Beggars, especially those with children and babies, would threaten to melt the most frozen of hearts. The piles and heaps of rubbish and human waist grow higher than me and swarm with flies and mosquitoes. The narrow streets are filled with people, cars, mopeds, bicycles, and buggies - so filled that one mile may take 30 minutes to drive through. There is no left or right side of the road - simply masses of people going about their business.

I have met with a group of women who are coming out of the sex trade, and we spoke about fever care. Those things which seem so commonplace to us are foreign thoughts to them (such as not bundling a fevered person up in blankets). And in a place where nutrition is expensive, many are gaunt and unwell, harboring illnesses of every variety within their beautiful bodies. I find myself surrounded by women who are in “economic prostitution”, i.e., they sell their bodies to buy rice for their children. I found out today that some of them do so for as little as 20 Rupees, or 60 cents US. There are also many who reside in the red light district and cost more than that, but certainly no great sum.

On the encouraging side, however, there are three women who I am working with who are Christian converts from such a life, and their joy and love is so great it shines through them. God has used two of them to convert their husbands, mothers, and in one case, father. And they are so willing and ready to help women out of a life of prostitution, they now give their lives entirely to the work of the mission here.

As expected, the work here is not as straight-forward as one could hope. Our desire to set up a jewelry trade school for women from the red light is not looking feasible. The beads and clasps, etc...which are needed to make the jewelry are not available for a sustainable price here. So, I will be working with card-making as a trade and looking for other ways that a profit could be earned by accessible handcrafts. There are routine police raids in the red light district, so many protocols and documents are needed for any legitimate school/business there - so this will take some more time. Efforts have begun for this, however, and Lord-willing perhaps we will have open doors within the next month. Of one thing I am sure: God has His plans, and they are good.

As I finish up this first update, I need to communicate an unforeseen problem that has arisen. Most of you know that I have weak lungs, which sometimes forget what their role in life is. Not having lived in polluted areas during my times abroad, I had not looked into the air quality of Kolkata. The air is so bad that the sun is always covered beneath an ocean of pollution. When I wash my face the cloth is black, or blow my nose it is the same. I have medication which should help, and a monitor so I will know if there is a real problem developing. But I would ask for your prayers in two directions, that either my lungs will be strong enough to last, or if my time must be shortened, my work here would be fruitful beyond imagination and that the Lord will fulfill His purposes for this journey. This is the most immanent prayer request I have.

Thank you for the encouragement of your thoughts, notes, and prayers. They come as such a comfort in the midst of the raw humanity with which I daily meet. And through them you become a very real part of my ministry here.

With blessings and love,
Nicole de Martimprey

Yes, I love to see the air I am breathing - trust it more that way....

The Cross of Christ

2009-01-22T03:18:00.000-08:00

All the world is engulfed in darkness, there is only One True Light which can pierce it's sordid color. I looked at this door, the shadow of light being cast across the floor, and desire only to be hid in that cross which can transform night into day. It is here where our strength lies, and in no other place. If we step outside the cross we cannot stand. Even if we tiptoe. My prayer as I see the dark night of sin all around me is that I might see it through this glass, through the power of the cross. That I may be hid in Christ and He in me. And it is in this place of security that the sights and scenes of India become a part of me because they are already a part of Him. The battle is His, and He is the Victor. What a glorious truth!

My New Year Quote

2009-01-04T16:24:00.000-08:00

I am a great Sinner and Christ is a great Saviour.

When I was teaching still we had a speaker come and the way he quoted these words from John Newton with such conviction, penitence, humility, and gratefulness that they were branded into the thick hide of my mind:

I am a great Sinner and Christ is a great Saviour.

Being at a particular lack of New Year's resolutions this year, I am simply going to try to remember those words every morning and evening, and not so simply, to grasp them with my whole being.

I am a great Sinner and Christ is a great Saviour.

May I not forget this year from Whom I come, by Whom I exist, and to Whom I go.

I am a great Sinner and Christ is a great Saviour.

A Stage

2008-12-11T08:13:00.000-08:00

I stand upon a precipice. All around me wavers in the wind, but I am still. I took lessons from a butterfly years ago, somehow though wavering in flight, always lands with the utmost grace and peace. Always with peace. I am an ant, but it is wiser than I to store and then to hibernate. I am one ant, reveling in my significant insignificance. I would much rather be an ant than a tortoise. The tortoise looks wiser, with its aged wrinkles and deliberate actions. But I could not be a tortoise because estivation would not sit with my constitution half so well as hibernation. I like the sun. And now that I think it, how odd that the ant has no wrinkles though it is always in the sun and dead to the winter, while the tortoise is wrinkle-worn though it is shelled for all the summer. UV rays lie to us. Science is a farce. The tortoise is really a walnut.

What is real? Science tries to tell us, but why should we trust what "they" just discovered yesterday?!? Philosophy attempts explanation, yet we have known innately for all our days the tenants it spews forth in pretty words. Maybe someone had it right, "All the world's a stage" he said. I like to call him Billy. It tiptoes upon the irreverent and sends scholars into frenzies. Anything to change the status quo. A stage. Here today gone tomorrow. A stage. Ever changing yet always fixed. A stage. Both empty and complete without people. A stage. Made by men and synonymously making them. Yes, the world is a stage. Today I will listen to Billy.

I watch the waves upon the seashore. The world is a wave, crashing upon eternity, sending droplets of saltwater upon the heavens. Eternity is the shore that it crashes on. Heaven is the floor of the ocean, containing all, sending pieces of itself to the surface to be crashed upon a playing child's sandcastle. Does the sea get its salt from below, or is it the other way around? I've tasted sea and sand - both made me pucker and cough as my skin reddened because all the good oils were being washed away, with my cells. My cells do not like salt. It sucks the cytoplasm out of them and then they die. The big book on my dusty shelf calls this "osmosis".

Don't look here for answers. The moment I give answers is when I have forgot my place in the script, or maybe I have stepped off the stage looking for something else and fallen. Why do we think that illusion and reality are foes? I say they are the same, constantly osmosing and never fighting for the kingdom. The precipice is higher than I thought, and deeper, and wider.

Code 3

2008-12-04T12:13:00.000-08:00

Okay, I didn't get to go this fast, or look this cool, but I did get to work on an ambulance in East Oakland. Which was pretty amazing.

Quick updates:

- My favorite new politically correct term that has to go on paperwork: "Urban Camper"... Apparently homeless is out of vogue and offended someone, so now we have permanent urban campers or temporary urban campers. How I love America.

- I didn't get any pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving day. I had to settle for a pumpkin milkshake from Jack in the Box. Very sad times.

- I was told three times last week that I look like Jodie Foster, a comment I started receiving three years ago. I just don't see it, and considering she was born in 1962, either I am looking considerably old for my age or she is looking quite young and spry.

- I became the proud owner of a MacBook on November 15th, 2008. It hasn't told me it's name yet, but I'm sure that will come with a growing relationship.

- I found out that in order to give the proper amount of compressions per minute during CPR, you can perform them to the beat of either "Stayin' Alive" or "Another One Bites the Dust". However, I would warn that singing either out loud while delivering CPR may distress those around and lead to a lawsuit.

- I am studying to take the National Registry Exam for EMT's. In this exam all four of the multiple choice answers are often correct and you must choose the one that is most appropriate OR all the answers seem incorrect and you must choose the least inappropriate. What an odd way to write an exam! Slightly frustrating at times as well....

Hopefully more often posts will be coming in the next couple weeks, wanted to give the broad-stroke overview for now!

Death-Dealing

2008-10-31T10:22:00.000-07:00

Death, I will personify you.
As my actor, you would have some coy name,
Foreign but with a strange sense of familiarity.
Stuck between prime and retirement,
You’ve red hair which oft looks gray.
What is your favorite social sphere?
Were you here, I would ask you the same,
Seeking to sense the depth of your vanity.

What kind of purgatory you must be in!
Is there any hope of your release
Or are you doomed to deal eternally
In that most precious currency
Which we call life?
Perhaps you get on smashingly,
Longing not for the restfulness of peace,
While reveling in the stolen goods of sin.

Perchance it’s not from middle earth you come,
But from the skies above or earth beneath.
The former would render you a herald of God
And the latter an envoy of the Devil –
Or is it possible you are employed by both?
Do you have the brazen to negotiate when
Unfair seems the victim of your career,
Whether by too young an age or in golden year?

So much I wonder, so little understand of you.
Is your head held high or does it jilt as awkward
As these words here writ? Do you ever smile
Upon an old man’s weathered face
Or weep when bidden to a child’s abode?

Methinks you are not my actor, but I yours
In a play to which I have no script.
When or where or how I will walk upon
Your stage of doom or delight I do not know.

So conquer on, friend and foe,
Neither with comfort nor fear
I will watch for you, learn you,
And without regret, greet you
When you deign to be my guest.

#127, 4th Place Woman for OTC

2008-10-25T12:34:00.000-07:00

I ran my first 10K last weekend.

Five of us ran on a team called "OTC"

meaning, "Off The Couch".

And it meant just what you think.

We dressed in 80's style clothing.

I was Jane Fonda.

I ran 6.2 miles for the first time in years

And loved it.

A Week of Work in Daylight

2008-09-12T11:16:00.000-07:00

As some of you know, the owl season has ended. Strangely, I very much miss the night. I miss its sky and stars. I miss always knowing what the moon was up to. I miss calling wild birds and having them fly to me. I miss having my sense of control constantly challenged by the darkness. I miss the animals (yes, even the big teethy ones). I miss being alone in the forest.

Now I work in the day. It is hot. It is bright. The forest is rarely mysterious now that I can see it. The fear factor is no longer there to deaden the pain of white thornbrush ripping your leg open or manzaneda whipping your face. Which hurt. This week I traded mountain lions for bees - and I can tell you the bees did much more damage than the cats ever did (well....at least physically, perhaps not emotionally!). I also received a minor head wound while working with a hemophobe (the real problem here was that I didn't realize it was going to bleed so much until we got into the truck and HE was driving, trying to avert his eyes from any sight of the dark red life-liquid coloring my hair and face. Thank goodness it's the end of the week. A headache, a big itchy sting in the place of my back where it's hard to reach, allergies, two pairs of ripped pants, and a sunglass tan bring me to the end of a week of work in the daylight.

Did I mention how hot the sun is?

Hurray!

2008-08-20T15:04:00.000-07:00

I just sent in my last assignment of my 22-credits-in-courses Summer!

What was I thinking in the first place??.....Oh wait, I wasn't!

I'm ready for brain space. I'm going to re-learn guitar. I'm going to camp as much as possible. I'm going to watch a chick-flick that will make me both laugh and cry. I'm going to rock climb whenever I get the hankering. I'm going to read a book because I want to not because I have to.

Does that sound like space any longer? Isn't that what we do, make space just to fill it up with something else. Or is it just me.

So, scrap all that. I'm going to take a nap and then think for about half a day on what I want to do next.

Culture, Evangelism, and Everything else I wanted to say today

2008-07-28T14:20:00.000-07:00

Being a Christian means participating in the life of the eternal Godhead. But this participation is in the midst of a world that is constantly changing; people change, families change, cultures change. As Christians, then, we must learn how to see the eternal and changeless faith that Jesus Christ bestows in the context of a shifting world its fluxuating philosophies.
Today we definitely see a recycling of the 60’s, but there are some differences. I work with the research branch of the Forest Service right now, with environmentalists, biologist, ecologists, etc… And probably 1/3 of the people I work with are practicing Buddhists. Young, caucasian, American adults in their 20’s and 30’s embracing the Buddhist religion. Just seems a little odd. [Of course, after saying this, every culturally-adapted bit in me wants to say, "I'm not judging it, just noting it"]

They also embrace the “next adventure” philosophy, which is always looking for the next thing they can do. Rock climbing, dirt biking, fishing, extreme sports, this is all part of the purpose of life for my generation. Why settle, get married, and have a family when there is an adventure to be had? And really, why get married at all? Let’s be new and different, live together and maybe/maybe not have kids at some point when it is convenient for us (i.e. doesn’t compromise our adventures) – that sounds like the life! I confess that I'm very definitely part of this mentality, and just now standing back to look and squint at it, wondering how the Gospel and Christianity is being compromised by this mode of thought.

Jump around with me for a moment. Tolerance is the answer to everything today. And there is definitely the sens in which Christians are not to condemn non-Christians by our own standards. We should not expect pagans to act like anything other than pagans. Of course my co-workers live with their girlfriends, of course they’re homosexual, of course they swear like sailors. Their sin nature has not been redeemed in the blood of Jesus Christ, and is therefore given free reign. They have not the strength of Christ to resist temptation, nor the reason to do so.

At the same time, perhaps more shocking than the expected paganism of our non-Christian acquaintances, is the unexpected moralism that many non-Christians embrace. I know I was shocked in college and again this year that many of my non-Christian friends seemed to be gentler, kinder, more generous, and generally more enjoyable to be around than my Christian friends. Or even myself. What do we do with these non-Christian friends that seemingly have everything put together? And it is a dilemma! I have not come to many conclusions, but just some thoughts on the topic (as per usual these days...). First, be convicted! I have found myself most convicted this summer by a homosexual friend that is kind, gentle, courteous, caring, and loving – all those things I should be and more. Secondly, give thanks to God that He has been gracious enough to bestow the imago Dei so undeniably in mankind, that moralism is possible. And thirdly, realize that Christianity is not about moralism; it is about a just God who seeks the souls, not just morals, of mankind.

Right? Talk to me friends (my randomness has given full excuse for any random thoughts you may have as well!)

Darkness

2008-07-17T14:36:00.001-07:00

I challenge you to sit outside in the mountain air, or a forested area, or an exotic city park (for those of you in Dallas, you may have to get creative...).
Sit there from sunset to sunrise.
Observe the emotions that will course through your veins.
Observe how tense you may get at times.
Observe your reaction when something crashes ten feet from you and you have no idea what monster may be lurking there.

Now stop and think. What has changed? Has anything in the basic reality of creation changed in those hours? No. The thing that has changed is your own sense of control. If the woods were lighted, then no fear would dwell in me. But without light, that simple pinecone falling through the branches could be saskwatch. Don't laugh - it could be.

I wanted to let my sense of terror proceed as naturally as possible, without squashing and squandering it in my mind. I tried not to be invincible and strong. If something fell, I jumped. If two evenly-spaced lights appeared through the brush, I did not restrain my pulse from getting louder and stronger. If those lights were big and round and green, I screamed (c.f. earlier mountain lion experience). All new experiences for me.

But I am here to report that as of July 7th, nearly all the fear has gone. It all changed that night when I was too tired to care about much, and went crashing through the woods on my own because my partner wasn't feeling up to it that night. I was a little ticked off (partner probably wasn't up to it because he was hungover, and I was the one who had just flown in from Texas and had a right to be tired...), so I just marched up that mountain by myself. It never occurred to me that I should be scared or nervous, or something. Little 5'3" me, a forrest, a mountain, and who knows what hiding creatures in the miles around me. The nerves seemed all but asleep. After that, the fear seemed to be gone. That means that for a person of my learning curve, it takes approximately 12 days to overcome the terror of the night.

A more philosophical view of all this later. For now, I am shocked that it took only 12 days for me to overcome being stripped of my sense of control over life and surroundings. And I am also sure it will take more than 50 more years to overcome that in the rest of my life...

My dear mother

2008-06-21T16:21:00.000-07:00

So, I called my little brother Timmy to ask him if I should tell mom about the mountain lion incident. After much thought, he said I should. On his authority, I did.
My mom's first response:
"That is SO neat!"

I think I worry more than she does.

Mom's second response:

"Oh, I'm a horrible mother!"

No your not, mom. Your all that I could ask for [except when in life-threatening circumstances....].

First Week of My New Job

2008-06-13T15:26:00.000-07:00

Technical title: "Biological Science Technician"
Respectable title: "Owl Researcher"
Common title: "Hooter"
Location: Quincy USFS

Proper Job description: Work four 12-hour shifts per week. The work day begins at 17h00 and ends around 05h00, allowing the technician to see both sunset and sunrise in a single work day. A huge benefit to this kind of work. Technician must be capable of driving on mountainous roads in the area, using a compass, GPS, and topographical maps.

Improper Job description: you must be absolutely batty to do this work.

First week checklist:
- Observe spotted owl family of four from close proximity. Check
- Drink lots of coffee. Check.
- Observe family of 4 mountain lions from the safety and comfort of my truck. Check.
- Hike over mountains, cliffs, rocks and trees. NOT singing sound of music. Check.
- Take a 2 mile hike-out, call for owls, start packing up and notice the lovely eye shine and outline of a cat. Check.
- Proceed to drop anything unnecessary to the panic run. Check.
- Point radio at lurking eyes and turn squelch on high while making as much noise as possible from a 5'3" woman. Check.
- Creep slowly away, overcoming every natural instinct to run. No time for checking anything.
- Arrive at truck.
- Pray (maybe should have done this earlier) thanks to the Maker of me and mountain trylions.

It's true folks. There have been a number of scary moments in my life, but this definitely ranked pretty high up there. And so I end the first week of my new profession. My, oh my, what will the next 15 weeks bring....

Anglican Way Institute

2008-05-21T08:32:00.000-07:00

ANGLICAN WAY INSTITUTE
Forming our faith, life, and view of the world according to the Anglican Way of following Christ

I would like to extend an invitation to all visitors and friends of this blog to attend the annual "Anglican Way" Conference. It is held in Dallas, TX, July 2nd-6th and is a wonderful time of fellowship amongst people of our generation who are eagerly seeking after the truth, and willing to think and pray through the theological and practical issues which assail serious Christians in our culture today.

This year's topic is "Finding Grace Through the Sacraments". If you or anyone you know might be interested, please pass on the invite and direct them to this link for more information: http://anglicanwayinstitute.org

The Squirrel Story

2008-05-19T19:54:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a woman who was a real mountain-woman. She took her six children camping every summer, thinkin’ the fresh air would do their over-taxed craniums some good. Wellll, these weren’t quite normal children. A few too many brain cells and shotguns amongst them to mean any good for anyone. Now, this woman had a whole swathe of boys out campin’ with her the summer long, and ONE lil’ girl.

If you’ve ever known a girl who grew up with a lot of boys, you might know that she often ends up a little more heartless and tough than the boys (a mix of necessity and overcompensation). This particular girl was of such a stripe.

The tent was pitched, and mom was a’cookin’ that day when the little girl wandered off with a gun tucked comfortably in her armpit (you know, that way you always see in the old westerns when the bad guy struts with gun crooked through his arm in that particular way).

Now, I’m absolutely sure this lil’ girl had nuthin’ in her head but good intentions. It was that damned squirrel that had the nerve to look so perrty and tasty, jumpin’ from branch to branch like IT owned the forest (which was certainly NOT true, cause these woods was that little girl’s). Driven by a twinge of tree-jumpin’-envy, she took that gun and butted it, aimed, and fired. VICTORY!!! Such a gleam ran through those eyes, a smile on those lips……

But in the cloud of smoke and flame of conquest, a placid mother’s face appeared right ’bout where that squirrel had dropped to the ground. If only it’d been a ghost, or a vision, or somesuch - but no. That was the real mother alright. She looked down, then up without a single hint of what was goin’ through her mind. Was she mad? Was she glad? Was she proud of her lil’ half pint’s shot?

Two words and a pointed finger at the carcass of that poor animal was all it took. “Yo’ supper”, she said, turned, and walked away.

That little girl had to defur, skin, slice, and fry that squirrel (can’t e’en mention what she was saying while doin’ that!!). She ate every bit, pretendin’ it was as lovely as mama’s steak pie. The boys laughed, but she never cried. She also never shot another squirrel…….well, that might be a fib, she just made sure here mama wasn’t nowhere near.

[Stories from my childhood...]

Laboro, Amo, et Confundo

2008-05-16T07:06:00.000-07:00

Laborolaborare, laboravi, laboratum: Latin 1st Conjugation Present Active Indicative 1st Person Singular = "I work"
Amo, amare, amavi, amatum: "I love"
Confundo, confundare, confundavi, confundatum: "I blend, mix, confuse/confound"

This post will probably not make a lick of sense to many of you, but to the few who understand.... I will also warn you that there is no conclusion, though perhaps you can comment and make one.

I had a revelation recently. A very mundane revelation. I realized the other day that I am still in school and pursuing medical training so that I can work with the people I love to work with and do something that I love to do - and get paid for it. And that has seemed the most noble and perfectly correct path for me to walk on. Not being independently wealthy, or familialy wealthy, or any other kind of wealthy, I can't afford to do humanitarian aid and voluntary work every day for the rest of my life. So without intentionally cognating, I pursued medical (which I enjoy) so that I could support myself (which I need) so that I could pursue needy people (whom I love). Make sense?

Revelation (not of St. John, but of Nicole's slightly slow cranium):
With all my assortment of past jobs (waitress, secretary, baker, hardware-girl, construction, teacher, and *coming soon*: spotted owl researcher [more on that later]) it never occurred to me that I may have to choose a career that I didn't love, that didn't inspire and touch me - a career that wasn't my discerned calling. And in a moment I realized that most adults probably don't have the luxury of combining those two. "Do what you love, love what you do" is that realistic? "If you can't do what you love, love what you do" are much harder words for an idealistic optimist like myself, but perhaps more accurate. After two years of teaching (something I never had the desire to do), I have found that in God's good providence and sovereignty I was stretched and grown through working at something that didn't thrill me. He has allowed inspiration along the way, but the hard kind, the kind you have to look for. He has bestowed joy and contentment (not saying I always accepted those....). And as I near the end of my foreseen teaching career, He is granting fulfillment and peace that this was His plan for me, not a deviation from my path, but a continuation on that path which He laid for me before I was born, that path which will be just a tad more illumined because I first had to work and then find how to love that work.

I warned you there wasn't a conclusion. Just thoughts on a life that never stops being enlightened.

"My Life Dreams"

2008-05-05T09:56:00.000-07:00

By my dearest loveliest 1st-3rd Grade Students writing about their life dreams:

"I want to go to Egypt. I want to see pyramids. I want to be a zookeeper. I want to be a Christian. I want to go around the world in a year. I want to be a famous writer. I want to be an artist. I want to be a teacher and write books."

"I would like to be magical. I would be a famous car designer in Philadelphia. I would like a hover-board whith rokets. I would also like a dragon egg."

"I want to find Giza and the tomb of faro [Pharoah...} Khufu."

"I want to biuld towrs and houses and statuse of sand.I want to biuld a hole city with thowsends of peaple."

"I want to have super powers and fly in the sky. I want to have a pet dragon."

And my favorite:

"I would like expecially a lambrginy with rockets."

I love dreams.

SmugMug

2008-04-03T21:52:00.000-07:00

I can now present and offer you my photos in a more user-friendly and attractive format at:

http://www.nicoledem.smugmug.com

For friends and family of St. Andrew's Academy, please email or ask me to get the password for those albums.

Winter-fairied mountains

2008-03-10T17:06:00.000-07:00

Church of the Crow

2008-02-13T10:55:00.000-08:00

I wonder how long you've perched there, and if you sing along in praise of our common Maker.
I wonder if you tell your friends, or bring your children here to worship.
But mostly I wonder why you look so austere and possessive, wondering
what I am doing here.

Lenten Skies

2008-02-11T15:00:00.000-08:00

Through the branches of a tree I see the world. The sky must really exist, way up there, but the obstructions seem so great and looming, as though they want to curve you away from the clarity and expanse of the air. I squint, trying to see the heavens above more clearly than I see the barked branches that vie for my focus. I know that the heavens above encompass all, that they are vast and beautiful and the things they contain worthy of constant pursuit. But damn the branches in the way, the fruit which hangs enticing my soul to be overwhelmed by the weight of sin and death.

May I never forget that Love which has pierced this darkness and straightened the crooked path and the Light which even now shines through the brambles and grants a glimpse of the eternal. May your Lenten season allow you to see your sin alight with the sacrifice of Jesus Christ.

Scenes of Wintertide

2008-02-07T13:26:00.000-08:00

Wintertide?? We are soooo past the tide part.

And my favorite scene which is all-too familiar for me right now:

More Wedding Pics!

2008-01-16T16:42:00.000-08:00

Groomsmen (photo taken by Photographer David Linder:

Phil & I

Bridesmaids:

Bride & Groom:

Apparently I was amused...

Phil's Married!!

2008-01-08T16:00:00.001-08:00

And it was gorgeous. The Groom, the Bride, the whole thing was absolutely lovely. Only a few pics for now (as I was in the ceremony, I couldn't get any of the actual proceedings):

A very pleased mother and son:

Dad & I dancing (I probably stepped on his toes at this very moment):

Though looking rather despondent, Timmy actually woke up sick as a dog and suffered through looking dashing all day:

This is my only-slightly-older sister:

Stephan & I:

Bella Mama:

All Together

2008-01-04T08:14:00.001-08:00

For the first time in years, my whole immediate family was together for Christmas. And seeing that Phillip is getting married January 5th, this may be the last of "just us".

We revisited our childhood with a multiple-hour-long game of Monopoly:

Because we've always been too poor to buy a new game, our game pieces were quite varied (Energizer battery, quarter, penny, etc...). "We were 'appy though we were poor"....(name that quote and get ten dollars!!

There was much laughter:

Some were left with very little:

His Mountain

2007-12-03T18:29:00.000-08:00

Once I sat a-pondering upon a hill not mine own.
I borrowed someone else's mound
To see what they might see.
Or think.
Or feel.

But I did not feel,
Nor think,
Nor see
Anyone's sights, thoughts, or feelings
Other than my very own.

"Methinks", I hushed to myself,
"That there is only One Who has seen all
Thought all
Felt all",
Not only for himself; but for all mankind.

And this is His mound upon which I sit,
Aspiring only to embrace all the world
As He has, is, and ever will.

Picture from Rashan, Kosova, 2006

Transition

2007-11-24T19:31:00.000-08:00

Ah... the time has finally come.

Five years of saving for it.

Two years of wondering if I could really give up film

And two weeks of a new digital world.

I have left film behind and have joined the age of today!

Various & Sundry Photography

Midnight Office

2007-11-18T20:09:00.000-08:00

I have a growing appreciation and affection for praying the Midnight Office. It's neither Compline nor Lauds, neither the end of a day nor the beginning.

During the Evening Offices, the weight of the day's occurances are nearby in the mind, bringing with them the concerns, problems, and blessings of the day past.

During the Morning Offices there is a certain anticipation for the upcoming day with its schedule, people, meetings, work, and all that we cannot forsee within them.

But at midnight the greatest distraction is your melatonin, and if you can suspend that for fifteen minutes, there is nothing to crowd the mind nor soul. No regret for the past day nor anxiety for the future one. It is peaceful and focused.

St. Mark of Ephesus said regarding the midnight office, "rising from sleep for it, we signify the transportation from the life of the deceit of darkness to the life which is, according to Christ, free and bright, with which we begin to worship God. For it is written, 'The people who sat in darkness saw a great light (Is. 9:2; Mt 4:16)." From Patrologia Graeca 160, 1165D.

There is also a sense of redeeming the darkness, and filling it with the Light of Christ.

I would encourage you to try this, as I have been encouraged in trying to develop the midnight prayer into my daily cycle.

The Shades of Life

2007-11-03T08:03:00.000-07:00

While there are moments of fiery brilliance as seen in the skies posted earlier, so often we must learn to handle the gray shades of life. Beautiful, comfortable, regular they loom above us.

Apparently this is the way the Church is too. For all of the beautiful purples and reds and glorious whites of liturgical colors - green - yes, green - is the color we have for twenty-four weeks straight. Green. The color that the trees are on all regular days. Green. The color of the grass ten months out of the year.

My life has seemed gray of late. Or green. During a season when the green is supposed to be preparing for those few months of brilliant leaves and fall colors, my sky has been gray. It's a good gray, with subtle shades, but it is not full of passionate oranges and reds. I think I am being a glimpse into so many people's lives: get up, feed the kids, go to work, get home, make dinner, go to bed; next day: get up, feed the kids, go to work, get home, make dinner, go to bed. Maybe a couple days out of the month have a chisel-tipped pink highliter scratch over them - but most are the same.

I don't want that life. So, how do I make my gray more brilliant? Is it simply by seeing the myriad of colors that go into gray? Or that rainbows are most clearly seen peeking through the gray skies? I think I am going to try to be alright with gray. Try to makethe grays beautiful in a grayish way. I'll tell you if I start seeing rainbows.

Caritas

2007-10-25T08:41:00.000-07:00

"To love at all is to be vulnerable.
Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken.
If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.
Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. but in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change.
It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.
The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy is damnation.
The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell." C.S. Lewis' The Four Loves

Some questions on love:
- Why are your closest friends and family amazingly adept at "pushing your buttons"? What is it about philial affections that can make us prone to quick offense and subsequently quick repair?
- What is it about our soul that finds the greatest satisfaction and fulfillment in the most sacrificial of loves? I say soul because it doesn't seem as though it would satisfy the flesh, but perhaps I am missing something here.
- What is the connection between love and duty? You have to love your husband, even when he seems unloveable; you have to love your brother even when he's unloveable, etc... Being human, we have to acknowledge love goes so much deeper than the eros, so is the deepest love (agape) still tied to duty, or is it the loves in between?
- Very important question: why is "love" always associated with the heart?

I have begun working on some essays on loves, so am probing for your thoughts.

The Sky Above

2007-10-09T19:15:00.000-07:00

Once my mom asked me if I would ever stop taking pictures of the sky. I told her that I would stop when I saw the same one twice. God uses a palette that we cannot even imaging; I suppose He creates a new color each day, one we may not even perceive. Just because it pleases Him. And the colors and clouds never cease to casually change at His command. I like to think that our awe at such a sight is echoed in the sky, as each ray realizes it is part of something gloriously wonderful and continues to obey the whim of the Artist above.

Budapest sunset on my birthday by Leslie Mezger

Eggplant

2007-09-30T16:07:00.001-07:00

Have you ever contemplated the beauty of eggplant? The colors are amazingly swirled together, so sometimes it looks black, sometimes ruby red, and somehow purple all over. I think I might keep an eggplant on my counter all the time now, just to learn more about the hand that made it. Maybe I'll even work up the courage to try to capture its beauty on canvas. But today I'll just stare at it.

From the lips of children

2007-09-20T14:43:00.001-07:00

My 2nd-5th grade students had a discussion regarding the Fall of man today. They brought up some things I have never thought about before, and am very humored by:
If Adam hadn't sinned:
1) Would we still get papercuts?
2)Would we die if we got shot by a gun (the gun was of course created, not to hurt people, but to shoot fruit off of high trees)
3) We would be so crammed with people there wouldn't be any room to move.
4) We would have serious traffic jams!
5) If you tripped, would it hurt?
6) Would you be able to swim underwater (because if you couldn't die you couldn't drown....)
7) If you were eaten by a shark, would you live inside it forever.
8) If you stepped on a beetle, would it die?

Henry Tudor

2007-09-13T09:58:00.000-07:00

My first lecture of the school year was on "Memorizing", how to effectively store and recall information, the way the brain remembers, etc... While preparing, I was trying to find a history poem to demonstrate that even the dates, people, events of history can be put into rhyme and aid the memory. This is what I found (though I didn't use it with the students due to its PG rating):

I WANT A BOY

Henry Tudor said to Catherine
When he heard she was expecting
‘Darling, you must now prepare
To give birth to my son and heir
Girls are stupid, soft and silly
My baby has to have a willy.’

‘Sorry mate,’ said Henry’s wife
‘I may just be your trouble and strife
But it really isn’t up to me
Whether the baby’s a he or a she
My little egg is unisex
It’s YOUR SPERM that determines the sex.’

‘Rubbish,’ said Henry. ‘That’s not true.
The baby’s sex is down to you.
Don’t try and put the blame on me
If you have a girl, I’ll divorce you and leave
I’ll marry Anne Boleyn instead
And if Anne has a girl, I’ll chop off her head.’

And that’s exactly how Henry behaved
The wives who had daughters he never forgave
But now that the Tudors are long, long gone
We know Catherine was right and Henry was wrong

Miss de Martimprey It Is...

2007-09-12T11:45:00.000-07:00

Hats off and glasses up to another year of teaching.

The mission of St. Andrew’s Academy is to equip our students with the tools of learning and to endow them with the wisdom of the ages so that they may serve God and their fellow man with virtue and strength.

Moonlight fire

2007-09-11T08:31:00.000-07:00

As our trees and mountains burn, our prayers go up for rain.

Life or Death

2007-09-04T08:40:00.000-07:00

Just a question to perhaps get some feedback on. If we believe in the providence of God, the security of our soul in the heavenlies, and the unpredictability of this cosmos we walk on - how should we live? Or more pointedly what I want to ask (and am doing it badly) is: if we knew we had three months to live, would our life change? Or should it? Shouldn't our days be filled with the uncertainty of this moment we call "life" and the vigor of God's mission during it? Our days ARE numbered, why would it make a difference if we knew how many they were?

Ponderings on the Trinity

2007-08-28T15:30:00.000-07:00

I have been looking at what the Patristics have thought about the Trinity, and some curious questions have been emanating from this young twenty-first century mind. How odd is it that the Trinity has been studied by numerous eminent minds and men of God, yet even so the greatest of them have ended their discourses with the word, “Mystery”. Why was the Triune nature of the Godhead a doctrine that St. Athanasius was willing to be exiled three times for? Why has the Church labeled many as heretics because of their definition of the Trinity? What is at stake? Let us rummage through the minds of the Patristics to begin to answer some of our inquiries.

Orthodox Christology was the first battle that our Fathers fought for in the Trinitarian debate. Evans says, “Apart from the divine identity of Jesus as the Son there could not be a Trinity.” Though this may seem evident to us today, it is a primary reason for the Patristic’s tight grasp on orthodox Trinitarian belief. If Christ is not the second Person of the Godhead as truly as He was a walking, breathing human being then there is no Trinity to be spoken of, or really a Christian faith for it too is dependent upon the divinity of Christ. Because of this our Fathers pushed that Jesus was "of the same substance (homoousios)” as God rather than just of “similar stubstance (homoiousios).

Orthodox Soteriology was also in the balance. Gordon Fee said, “[all these soteriological verses] in some form or another reflect the threefold activity of Father, Christ, and Spirit in effecting salvation”. In describing his “economy of salvation” St. Irenaeus highlights the specific purpose of each of the Godhead in salvation saying, “God the Father uncreated, invisible one God, creator of the universe…and the Word of God, the Son of God, our Lord Jesus Christ, who…in the fullness of time, to gather all things to himself, became a human among humans to…destroy death, bring life, and achieve fellowship between God and humanity…And the Holy Spirit…was poured out in a new way on our humanity to make us new throughout the world in the sight of God.”

Basil of Caesarea was known for his emphasis on the equality of the Spirit in the Trinity. The “filioque controversy” came up because it was important to our Cappadocean Fathers that the Holy Spirit proceed from both the Father and the Son together. They defined the Trinity as one Substance in three Persons so it was necessary that the Holy Spirit be equal, proceeding from both and having in Himself the Substance of the Father and Son together.

The Patristics have used many analogies of the Trinity, two of which particularly lead away from thinking of the Trinity in a neo-Platonic manner. St. Augustine couples the Trinity with charity saying, “charity certainly loves itself, but unless it loves itself loving something it does not love itself as charity.” And further he says, “Now love means someone loving and something loved with love. There you are with three, the lover, what is being loved, and love.” The second I want to mention is one used by Cyril of Alexandria in the fifth century who said, “already the fragrance of the Holy Spirit has breathed upon you…That may you enjoy the Christ-hearing waters in their fragrance”. In this way the fragrance proceeds from the Throne of God (i.e. the Spirit) while Christ is enjoyed in that same fragrance and the fragrance is God the Father.

The Athanasian Creed seems to typify what the Patristics saw as the elemental beliefs that are necessary to maintaining an orthodox view of the Trinity. It says, “Whosoever will be saved, before all things it is necessary to hold the Catholic faith…But this is the Catholic faith: That we worship one God in trinity, and trinity in unity; Neither confounding the persons; nor dividing the substance. For there is one person of the Father, another of the Son; another of the Holy Ghost. But the Godhead of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost is all one: the glory equal, the majesty co-eternal.” The Creed continues with each aspect of God, attributing it to each Person and then unifying them as One, not Three. It concludes saying, “So that in all things, as aforesaid, the unity in trinity, and the trinity in unity is to be worshipped. He, therefore, that will be saved, must thus think of the trinity.”

A final aspect of the Patristic’s teaching on the Trinity (which Athanasius mentions) is seen in our salvation, when we come to the font of living water which proceeds from the Throne of God, the wound of Christ, and the presence of the Holy Spirit. Herein we bind unto ourselves the strong name of the Trinity, the Three in One and One in Three. This is why we may all walk from henceforth to study, meditate upon, and worship the Holy Trinity for the whole of our lives and still be continually awed into a greater understanding of the holy Mystery.

Comments and thoughts are welcome.

People of the River

2007-08-20T13:11:00.000-07:00

From Eden flowed four rivers going to nourish the four corners of the earth. As they flowed through the years they changed, and grew, the Nile even changed into blood, but the Lord healed that too. The Sea of Reeds opened up to let the people of God pass through on a quest for the promised land. They got thirsty, like you. They asked their Creator for water, and He even split a Rock in Horeb, though the rock was only a vision of the true Rock to come. They did reach the promised land - by walking through water again. The Psalmists oft sing of the river of God that flows from the base of His sanctuary to give suck to the whole earth. His rivers rush through the minor prophets, the major prophets, making borders and wars, drying up for the ungodly, taking lives and giving them.

And then the River of Life was born in Bethlehem, the One Who would make all rivers true to their course. He Himself was immersed as heaven opened and blessed Him so that He might wash the world with the baptism of river-water, then the water of His tears, and then the water which flowed from His side on Calvary. You and I are born from here, cleansed from here, and redeemed from here.

From Eden to Paradise, we are people of the River, and we must both be born from it, and die again that we might live in the Eternal Font.

The Curse

2007-08-13T17:35:00.000-07:00

I felt the curse today.

Keenly I saw it in your eyes as you fondled your child. The one you must still protect from me. I spoke and you listened, but our main discourse occurred between our pupils. Five minutes we looked. Foreigners to one another, yet eight feet away. I thought you to be asking me "why"?

I didn't have the answer.

The division of our languages happened far before Babel. You take me back to Eden with your blink. You don't trust me and I can't earn it back. How is it we share the same air, the same dirt, the same home - the same Creator - and we can't trust each other? I asked you to hear me out. You stood, both of you. You moved your child behind you. Am I so much a threat? I tried to explain it's not my fault. If I could I would remove this distance.

I can't redeem you - or us.

Perhaps you know me better than I do. Do you think I would fail if we had a relationship? Would I kill us both as my father Adam did? Probably. This hurts me more than I can remember before.

You heard me out, and bounded away - or did your fawn jump first? However it was, you returned to the safety of the woods, leaving me to feel the weight of a lost Eden. I can't wait for the not yet of the new earth - then you will let me touch your children and you may play with mine.

The Smoky Haze of Childhood Days

2007-07-16T13:51:00.000-07:00

The smell of pines rushed quickly in as four arms and legs ascended into the first heaven with the scampering speed of some small rodent. A new tower of Babel was created - we would reach the top with the greed of making a throne at the top. I'd like to say I reached the pinnacle first, but perhaps he did, or it was a tie.

The cold nipped at our noses, we had all become Rudolphs that day. We pressed and dug and stacked and moved - we were taking dominion of the white flecks of water that had visited from the waters above. We would take care of our Eden, we would subdue and order this creation - we would be faithful Adams. Our snow fort would be more formidable than Goliath's armor, and we would shield our foreheads. The battle was waged, canon balls of white were launched at record speed, and we were laughing - always laughing....

The snow-runoff water of our stream threatened our small corpora, but our hearts tried to compensate, sending reinforcements to the extremities. Why do I mention now what gave no notice then? The frigid water was no bother, we were hunters that day, our prey had two pinchers and could launch backwards with one flip of the tail. Our crawdads were brownish (or were they reddish, or orangish?) and they were going to give a fight for life, but so were we - they were our sustenance and we would not have mercy.

The plans were written, blueprints drawn - I'm sure there were nearly as many as Solomon had for his Temple. The seven of us were saying "adios" to our family dwellings and building our third and largest cabin. The other two were forts, but this would be the sanctuary of our honneur et vertu. To us this would appear as more perfect than Olympia's Zeus, more mathematical than the Great Pyramids, more beautiful than Babylon's Gardens - it would be the First Wonder of our World. And it was, it was the centre of our kingdom, where we played and ate and played and slept and played. It was paradise.

We grew.

Some left.

The tree was timbered.

The snow melted.

The crawdads enjoyed peace at last.

The fort has fallen to an unknown enemy.

We are all adults now, the Clear Creek gang is all over the world.

The seven-fold band is unwound, but the strands still come from the same strong beginning.

And what has the mind done to reality? Why can't I remember crying or spankings or schoolwork? What kind of great illusion has time placed upon those younger years?

I think I'll go make a fort and find out.

Singing

2007-06-29T11:39:00.000-07:00

When I was lately at Pepperdine University, I had the blessing to hear Frederica Mathewes-Green. She is an Orthodox writer and speaker who is humble and kind, a refreshing voice in this world of chaos. For fear of misquoting, she said something similar to the following with regards to singing:

When we sing, we are given again the Breath of Life from the mouth of God, and we receive Him into all of us, and at the same time are given the opportunity to return that Life to Him in a way more harmonious and beautiful, taking an active part in the harmony of the Trinity.

Enough said. I have thought of it every time I've sung since then.

Scared of the Dark

2007-06-19T11:47:00.000-07:00

Why is the dark so frightening? Why is the first thing I do in my house flipping a switch and creating light? I know how to walk through the living room, down the hall, into my bedroom without going through all the trouble of turning on lights at every step. And, when the light goes on in my head everything is safe again, but in reality, nothing has changed. Why is this and is it the same in the spiritual sense? The Light scatters the darkness creating safety and comfort, no more bumping into walls and looking like a crazed person with arms fully extended in front of you - your eyes are opened to behold things invisible and unseen. Riddle me this.

Pre-Fab Worship

2007-06-13T20:50:00.000-07:00

I was recently at a conference about a cappella music. Most of the people there were from Orthodox traditions, Church of Christ, or people just interested in the music. There was also a panel of speakers who were from various non-traditional Churches who were presenting on Church music with/without instruments and what kind of music should be played in church today, etc.... One was from a more "emergent" Church who had some good words about bad hymns and good hymns, and how we should only be teaching our children the latter kind. But he was very non-denominational praise-band worshippy. Another speaker had a nifty PowerPoint program on "Convergence Worship". He had more degrees for his age than any ought to have, and the corporate nature in which he dealt with the topic at hand was slightly unnerving to my more traditional veins.

I must be growing - I didn't get angry and I was slightly amused.

One picture kept coming to my mind: With all the discussions about how we should worship and what music should be played and who are we targeting and are we being culturally relevant, I just kept asking myself how many times we must reinvent the wheel rather than getting on a cart that already has wheels and sorting things out from there. That's not the picture though, that was a rather long rabbit-trail. The various evenagelical movements today continue to put up pre-fab buildings on a parking lot (valet parking sometimes included) when right next-door is a cathedral that is founded in the Garden of Eden. We aren't supposed to be culturally relevant in our worship - WE'RE SUPPOSED TO WORSHIP THE ETERNAL AND EVERLASTING GOD OF HEAVEN AND EARTH. Like Adam. Moses. David. The Apostles. And all the faithful departed this life in a faith sturdy enough to hand down to their great-great-grandchildren. I want to go to Church to worship God in His Cathedral, and I want to better it for generationsI will never meet.

I pray that I will have the strength to build just one brick of that cathedral that spans all time until Christ's completion rather than be concerned with the pre-fab, quick-fix nature of my culture.

A Friendly Critique of State Universities

2007-05-24T11:21:00.000-07:00

No, the illiteracy rate has not gone down. Millions of people across the world are trying to handle unplanned illiteracy. Most are unsure and uncomfortable in social arenas, and struggle with feelings of confusion and self-doubt. Many are just plain tired of not understanding, and often times not even knowing that they don’t understand. And so many never seek a remedy for fear of not “fitting in” with the literate college class.

But the State Universities are changing all that. By using taxpayers dollars, they are able to advertise cross-country using small words that the common people can understand. They are reaching out to the illiterate by offering a place where they will fit in – where everyone has had a mediocre education. The environment is one that they will understand, for the greatest draw comes from the public schools, allowing for a common level of comprehension.

The student counselors talk to people every day that think they are too illiterate to attend college, who are afraid of not being able to keep up. The counselors tell the illiterate population of today not to worry because the State University will meet them where they’re at, allowing them to receive a degree with the least possible work.

For example, Susie went to California State University frightened to death of having an overload of homework with lots of writing and tons of books to read that were written by dead white European authors. But when she talked to her counselor, all her fears were relieved. The reading would be less than her public high school, deadlines would be flexible, and the teachers would keep lectures simple. This would leave plenty of time for getting on to the things that are important in life like hanging-out with friends, keeping in touch with those back home, sports, and finding your perfect illiterate “other”.

That’s what your State University can do for you, because they understand life’s priorities.

2007-05-19T18:46:00.000-07:00

A fun little tidbit -

Advice For U.S Citizens Visiting France

The following advice for American travelers going to France and it is intended as a guide for American travelers only.

General Overview

France is a medium-sized foreign country situated in the continent of Europe to the left of Germany. It is an important member of the world community, though not nearly as important as it thinks it is. Among its contributions to western civilisation are champagne, camembert cheese, French fries, the guillotine and an unsanitary method of kissing.

One continuing exasperation for American visitors is that local people insist on speaking in French, but will become immediately enraged should visitors try.

The People

The French people are temperamental, argumentative, proud, arrogant, aloof and undisciplined. These are their good points.

The French are aware that they have garlic & cheese halitosis, and it has caused them to perfect the dismissive shrug instead of conversation.

Men often have girls' names like Jean, Marie are Michel, and they kiss each other when they meet.

Cuisine

Let's face it, no matter how much garlic you put on it, a snail is just a slug with a shell on its back. Croissants on the other hand, are excellent, although it is impossible for most Americans to pronounce this word.

Public Holidays

France has more holidays than any other nation on Earth. Among its 361 national holidays are: 197 Saints' days, 37 National Liberation Days, 16 Declaration of Republic Days, 54 Return of Charles de Gaulle In-triumph-as-if-he-won-the-war-single-handed Days, 18 Napoleon Sent Into Exile Days, 17 Napoleon Called Back From Exile Days, and 2 France-is-Great-and-the-Rest-of-the-World-is-Rubbish Days.

Safety

In general, France is a safe destination, although travellers must be aware that from time to time it is invaded by Germany. Traditionally, the French surrender immediately and, apart from a temporary shortage of Jack Daniels life for the American visitor generally goes on much as before.

A tunnel connecting France to Britain beneath the English channel has been opened in recent years, to make it easier for the French government to flee to London during future German invasions.

Should there be a war while visiting, don’t worry about the Germans, but the French – if you see them coming, run like hell.

Bon Voyage!

Pondering thought...

2007-03-29T15:42:00.000-07:00

A thought struck me the other day as I was driving with some students in the car. I thought a thought I'd never thought before, and I am quite intrigued by it.

In Heaven (wherever or whatever that is) there are four earthly bodies that we know of from the Scriptures. Moses, Elijah, and Enoch were presumably assumed into heaven with their earthly bodies very much still intact. And then of course, Jesus Christ, ascended into heaven with His resurrected body. So, are there three non-resurrected bodies living in heaven? Or was their flesh discarded somewhere in the journey? And, for interest's sake, what are those three bodies doing in a world of souls? Do questions like these have any implications on our beliefs and/or thoughts about heaven?

Please, comment!!

Post Scriptum: If you are Roman you would also be including the Blessed Mary in this (?)

Earth and Altar

2007-03-13T13:04:00.000-07:00

For all of you who haven't subscribed yet, please go to http://www.earthandaltar.org
It is a wonderful Anglican Journal of "life and worship" which has been a great source of encouragement and edification for me. The following is the article I wrote for this last Issue, though I would highly recommend you get it off of the site (which is the edited and easily-printable version). Have a blessed Lent.

"Drowned in Living Waters"

Nietzsche couldn’t understand; Hitler got it backwards; Marx forgot humanity; and the Modern Christian gets it all wrong without thinking at all.

Going against the wisdom of this world, Christianity resembles more the survival of the weakest than the survival of the fittest – making foolish the prophets of our age. In his work, The Anti-Christ, Nietzsche said, “The weak and botched shall perish: the first principle of our charity”, but St. Paul maintains that, “when I am weak, then I am strong”. The German thinker claimed that “a [man or society] is corrupt when it loses its instincts, when it chooses, when it prefers, what is injurious to it” but the world’s Savior said “take up your cross and follow Me”. The morality of Modern Man declares virtue as “whatever augments the feeling of power, the will to power, power itself” while the Son of Man requires His followers to be “clothed in humility.” With condemnation Nietzsche wrote, “The fate of the Gospels was decided by death”, with acclamation the Patristics agree. Christians are insane, or at least they should be.

Lent is the embodiment of the Christian life in a Season, and as such is a portrayal of good Christian lunacy. So, dear readers, accept for a moment (at least the duration of this article) that you must die to live.

The story of Lent is one that encompasses all the Covenants, both past and future. It is Joseph who lay bruised and beaten in the depth of a pit only to rise up and be clad in Pharaoh’s clothes. It is desert-exiled Moses, a reluctant shepherd, who led God’s people to the Promised Land. It is a very sore Abraham, cut in his old age, who would have descendents enumerating the hosts of the sky. It is a short kid named David who conquered his fear (he couldn’t have had that good of an arm) and received a Throne. It is a girl pregnant out of wedlock who denied all pride and became Theotokos. It was God in flesh, battered and crucified ascending into heaven. And it will be our eternal judgment and the eternal banquet of the faithful. Christians old and new live in a backward reality.

In this Lenten story, we have all become Adams, hiding from ourselves and God, forgetting (or trying to forget) that He sees all. And so Lent is the time when God walks through the Garden, calling our name and asking us what we have done. We wriggle and whinny ourselves in every direction, pointing fingers and passing blame as layer after layer reveals us as basely human. Once we are stripped, our nakedness in plain view, then God begins to sew clothes for us. That usually happens around Day 39.

Lent is my favorite Season (which many find quite strange). I have a devotion to Lent because it is the journey of Christ. I walk unreservedly with Him in the desert of hunger to face demons and find angels. He asks us to follow Him unconditionally as He treads upon the thorns of sin with hope, but no sight, of a rose. He gives strength to be crucified with Him, to go down into the depths of Hades with Him, to die with only rumors of a resurrection. Forty days to see my utter depravity. Do not think that it is morbidity that finds love in these things. It is thankfulness that our Lord Christ would walk this earth to kill death itself and then, having finished the race, grants us the Spirit to share with Him in His suffering. In Lent the Spirit reveals with utmost clarity who I am, and utterly disturbed by the sight, I run to Christ and cling to Him, seeking to be clothed in and with Him.

Lent is also the sequence of our baptism; in baptism, we are drowned. Our old man is left gulping down fonts of water and suffocating while our New Man is raised to the newness of life. In the depths, in the fires of hell, in the baseness of humanity we are held for forty days. One day a week we are allowed to grasp a short breath of air, a wisp of victory, then under we go again. We are left to stare up through the blurred current at the Light, and as the days pass the darkness grows darker, and yet somehow it seems that the rays of the sun penetrate clearer through the rivulet of rushing sins. We are drowned in Living Waters.

And then it’s Holy Week. Blackness and agony enfold me as the assigned Readings cast all thought of my weak faith aside in the looming greatness of the Cross and Passion. Someone thought it was a good idea to read through every account of Christ’s agony and bloody sweat – brave soul. By Holy Saturday my soul has nowhere to turn but to that Font from which it was born, and the words of St. Augustine ring through my being:
Oh that I might find my rest and peace in you! Oh that you would come into my heart and so inebriate it that I would forget my own evils and embrace my one and only good, which is you! Oh, in the name of all your mercies, O Lord my God, tell me what you are to me! Say unto my soul; I am thy salvation. Speak so that I can hear. See, Lord, the ears of my heart are in front of you. Open them and say unto my soul: I am thy salvation. At these words I shall run and I shall take hold of you. Do not hide your face from me. Let me die, lest I should die indeed; only let me see your face.

In Lent we have been drowned, buried, and burned – we have experienced the eternity of forty days. But then our shoulders are grasped by strong hands and we are raised “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.” We come out of the cleansing river and we breathe truly, for we have the Breath of Life restored in our lungs. We see truly, for we are blinded by the Light which casts out darkness. Easter has come, and we are not only raised with Christ, but we ascend with Him into the heavenlies. Here we are accepted to that Heavenly Banquet in the most unshrouded glory of the year – Christos Anesti! Nietzsche was wrong, Modern Man is a liar, Reality is not as we thought it. We have died to live.

Apologies

2007-02-21T14:43:00.000-08:00

Yes, because I have been so long in checking my blog, the horrid evil-livers of the internet world had hit my site with copious amounts of obscenities. I heartily apologize if you saw this. May they repent.

...as sheep and cows

2007-01-20T14:09:00.000-08:00

Would that I stopped to stare.

The wind plays its symphony upon those “lifeless” things: trees, leaves, grasses. The sheep and cows hear it - it is the white noise of their days. They seem quite content with it. Do they applause, or leave that to the swaying trees?

Wake. Pray. Read. Shower (well, sometimes). Granola and Yogurt. Birkenstocks on. Sound of the pavement during my "commute". Work.

The sound of rushing streams. Night and day hold no difference for them, the stars are always there. They pass rocks and other currents, they flow on in commute to a new destination. What makes water have that sound, and why do we say they’re rushing?

People everywhere – the same people as yesterday. Chaos. Corporate Prayer. Some children dance. Some children doze. Whiteboards. Phonics. Work.

Boughs, woods, squirrels, streams – these are not the only things at which to stop and stare.

Darkness turns to light during the time I pray. It reflects across the Lake. My prayers are consummated when I kneel beside naughty little boys. Laughing eyes of learning children. Penitent eyes of punished ones. The frustrations that prove humanity. Trying, and being tried, by that band of friends called “co-workers”.

Would that I stopped to stare, to see Beauty in my neighbors. To embrace that smile that waits in my student’s eyes. Would that I stopped to stare, but not as sheep or cows – that is for special days.

Leisure

2007-01-20T14:05:00.000-08:00

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

-William Davies

Angels

2006-12-25T09:41:00.000-08:00

Any ideas why our culture, and ones that have gone before, have portrayed angels as babies, cherubs, or little children? Is that the best we can do when thinking about purity and innocence, or is there something more? Would we like to ignore the Scriptural picture of the terror-striking angels of Isaiah's writing or the flaming sword of the cherubim that guarded in every direction? Just curious.

Interesting thought...

2006-12-24T20:32:00.000-08:00

I lifted this from my little brother (well, little in relation to years - he looms over me in height...).

"...history is an endless tide and so it is undamnable"

Never thought about it that way. Leave it to a 13-year-old.

Seraphim in the Sunset

2006-12-01T09:07:00.000-08:00

There were Seraphim in the Sunset yesternight. The God of the heavens had painted in a glorious array of orange majesty the expanse above me. I was on my way to a friend's house, or at least was supposed to be, when I could go no further. When I stopped, time stopped with me as I observed the handiwork of the Creator. The clouds had an absolutely amazing floating nature to them, slightly wispy and yet the thick and strong they took their time with the wind as it urged them along. They flew with leisure, so that I could not see if they were commanding the winds or if the winds were commanding them. Both seemed in perfect unity, or maybe the wind seemed a bit impatient at times. And then that orange. No manish sub-creator could ever capture the palette before me. Many would snap their shutter and many would take up brush - but none would succeed to mix the proper hues. Indeed, this masterpiece before me was born from an infinite mind.

I am convinced that these colors could capture blinded eyes with sight - like mine or maybe yours or maybe the person that pulled off the road behind me. In some way in that frozen moment I felt the part of Isaiah at the Throne. In front of me a vision of the heavens that lie beneath the Eternal's throne and I could feel the wind from the Seraphim's wings as they flew in those clouds. My knees buckled as I felt my cheeks wettening. The Eternal, Almighty, Artist-God that thought this sky into being has chosen, called, saved, and loved a vile speck of dust. With the mighty Wind He breathed on this dust and made me His.

Thankfulness rushed through me as time began again as the drivers rushing past gave a curious glance. I was late to my friend's but on the road to Hamilton I had seen the Eternal.

2006-11-26T10:06:00.000-08:00

Family Road-Trips

2006-11-21T19:00:00.000-08:00

It's been four years since I've had the pleasure of accompanying my young siblings and two parents for the ritual 12-hour drive to Southern California for Thanksgiving. And the only reason I have time to write this now is because I am sitting in my parent's house at 7pm waiting to hear that age-old words "all aboard that's goin' ashore" from my dad. And waiting....And waiting. Of course this morning we were not going to take the tent trailor, but as of a few hours ago we are. Of course two hours ago I had to drive thirty minutes to pick up the car we're driving because it was in the mechanics. And, of course everyone's hustling and bustling with sharpish humors about them. BUT, some of my only memories of my family all together for more than ten hours are on road trips such as these. As we drive down the road (after we turn back twice to get what was forgotten) it is as though we enter a new world. What should have been done before simply melts away and lists are forgotten and we just ARE together. I like these times, even with the all-too-predictable inconveniences and unplanned adventures (like the time my dad got pulled over and was spread eagle on the ground because the cop had put in the wrong license plate number and the vehicle had come up stolen). So, Happy Thanksgiving - enjoy the difficult times with family because they make the good times so much sweeter.

Anti-Crossers

2006-11-10T14:46:00.000-08:00

An older piece I wrote to address those who find the crossing of one’s self to be horrific and unacceptable for Protestants

Refutation of two Anti-Crossers

The first adversary is one that screams “Rome!” in a very loud, high-pitched, and slightly annoying voice as they sprint in the other direction. The best time to approach these types is when they have not yet seen you cross yourself and are completely unsuspecting of any Romish tendencies that they might later perceive. I would recommend at this time that you calmly approach the subject, subtly saying that crossing one’s self is indeed very Catholic, but in no way Roman (this comment may take a bit of explanation, which you must be prepared for).

The second adversary is one of a Gnostic tendency, specifically the kind that think crossing is highly “liturgical”, and liturgical means structure, and structure means a severely decreased leading of the Spirit. On the first point, they are absolutely right, on the second, even more correct, and I still haven’t quite nailed down what the third accusation really means in their mind, but I sometimes wonder if it could be related to that heartburn from Saturday-night pizza that hits during the third praise song…. I gently ask them to read the Old Testament and get back to me (encouraging them to consider that it is the same Spirit in both the Old and New Testaments). Upon our next meeting I ask them as tactfully as possible how they see the leading of the Spirit in their church. The response consistently seems to boil down to emotions, a popular example being: “I felt led to raise my hands.” If they go there, I light up like with excitement and exclaim that, “I feel led to cross myself, and when I do, so does everyone else in the congregation! We must be really unified in the Spirit!”

Blessed are the peacemakers.

Ag-ed love

2006-10-24T09:18:00.000-07:00

Sixty-year old dancin' skirts swirled around as the war veteran and his belle danced at the All American Swing concert last weekend. The dancefloor was full of such couples, the hunched man gently holding his lover's wrinkled hand as the dance slowed to a flowing breeze. How long have they been married? How many times danced these dances? Do they remember holidays when the smartly-uniformed man joined his wife in the absence-wrought fondness? Several songs went by, and it was clear that they were trying to forget the arthritis that was creeping through their bodies as they swung the moves of yesteryear. No fatalities had occurred when we hit the 45-minute mark, which I only remember because that is the time when a young, early 20's couple stood to take the dancefloor. I felt this contained scoff come from within me - who were they to take the floor with couples who had been dancing together for 60 years? They were all lovey-dovey, but do they recognize that they have not yet attained love? Will they suffer all wrongs, take no offense, sacrifice for one another - know the true passion of those who have tested it and tried it and found it has little to do with feelings? One day, I hope, they will know the beauty that through trials grows ever more lovely in the beholder's eye.

The Fragrance of Christ to God

2006-10-05T18:22:00.000-07:00

Burn my soul, dear God above, that all dross this day may banished be. I offer here myself a sacrifice, blinded by the blemish that I have become. The sin which so easily entangles has done well its work in me, until from the depths I cry unto Thee, knowing full well that Thine is the only hand that can make me clean. Yet lingers a fear, a shame that downcasts my soul - have I the faith to touch Thy hem as a woman years ago had done? This is the fire of which I speak: a cleansing flame by Spirit driven that returns me to the dust from which I came. But in my dying I am raised, for spotless Christ proclaims, "She is in Me and I in her - My blood has made us one". The fragrance now raised before the Throne is that of mingled flesh, as all sin, shame and spot are burned. My Husband has once again presented a spotless Bride to Thee.

Oh would that it did end there! But you, my whoring soul, are so like Israel, that day after after day this same must be done. How great is my desire to be true, faithful, and pure and yet how great my shame as once again you find me selling my soul to another. How well Thou knowest Hosea's grief! I beg, therefore, that through judgement and patience Thou would teach me to be a Wife. I seek to be not a daughter of Eve but a daughter of Mary. Through the power of Christ, may the incense of this handmaiden's faithful prayers be greater than the fragrance of my sacrificed sins. And in this may I be a pleasing aroma, the Fragrance of Christ to Thee.

I'm still here!!!!

2006-09-28T17:26:00.000-07:00

Whew! That was a close one. I received Chris' cry to return to the blogfield, and was a bit confused until I saw the dreaded "Not Found" URL page. How can this be? Could I have lost all that work? A year and an half of thoughts and discussion? Travel stories, struggles, poems, updates, laughs, and tears - all lost to the black whole of the world wide web??? And then I hit "Republish blog". I'm not sure why I had to do that, but my universe has been restored. The doctor says I'll recover.

The Altar Cross

2006-09-16T09:14:00.000-07:00

In an homile on the Holy Cross, the Priest mentioned that the practice of putting a cross on the Altar is actually a Reformational practice. I looked into it a bit and found that there is no evidence for any altar crosses before the 13th century, and even then it was not widely employed. We know that Bede's "Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum" contains reference to a Processional Cross going before St. Augustine, so that is an ancient practice. And there are citations that later (13th-14th C.) the cross was taken off the pole and placed onto the altar during service. So there was the idea of having a cross on the altar, but no such thing as the Altar Cross we are familiar with. I am still looking at things, but it would seem that the Reformation popularized the practice of having an altar cross, and particularly in England (spreading from there to the continent). I thought this was an interesting bit of history, has anyone else heard anything about this, or maybe could find more info?

The Church: Word, Water, Feast

2006-09-15T16:32:00.000-07:00

A trochaic poem.

The beauty captures blinded eyes with sight,
As squinting ears lean in and heed those words
That lie unfolded upon wood so white,
And yet so scarlet-dyed for words unheard.

So great the strength within the clear water,
That prove the spear was true indeed, and now
They come to us from throne and font to give
Salvation strong - forever must endure.

As mouth and heart together take the grain,
A banquet lies aright with grape and yeast.
Within the lintels peace and joy are lain,
And voice cries out, “Made ready now the feast.”

The people fast in solidarity
Make way in fear with glad and unity.

Religion of PEACE Demonstration

2006-09-12T09:21:00.000-07:00

Look at this site. This was in London this past February. For some reason the media seemed to miss that day...
http://www.simpletoremember.com/vitals/Muslim-Religion-of-Peach-Demonstration.htm

If everyone had a name...

2006-09-05T16:09:00.000-07:00

From the beginning God named that which He loved. "Adam". "Eve". He next told Adam to name the animals, and naming became part of taking dominion. There is an authority involved in placing a name on something, and we name things we care about and things that we own. We put names on our children, we give nicknames to our friends, we bestow titles like "dad" on ones we love. We are naming creatures.

When Christ came, Mary and Joseph were not allowed to name their child because He would have a greater Father. And when Jesus began His ministry, He felt free to rename those who would be his disciples, such as Simon called Peter and the sons of Zebedee called "Boanerges". He named those He loved.

When we go to buy milk it is a quick task. But what if you knew everyone in the market? And even more, what if you cared about them? Then you would have the heart of Christ. In saying that, though, Christ didn't touch everyone or stop to call every person by name - He had a particular ministry with particular people in particular areas for particular purposes. He had a calling.

I am learning to trust my Gardener to prepare the soil of some particular plots. My calling is to the poor and needy, but they are too many and I am overwhelmed. I realized this week that if everyone had a name my heart, soul, and body would break. So I asked the Name above all Names to bring to me the faces He wants to name for me in order to fulfill His purposes and ministry.

An old friend has told me a number of times (in different ways), that the things which distract holy-livers aren't Saturday-night parties or adultery, they are the needy and hopeless situations that are outside of their focus or calling. If everyone in the market had a name, the milk would never be bought. But if you remember that the milk is the focus then you might very well enjoy one or two conversations along the way.

Too True

2006-09-05T16:05:00.000-07:00

Borrowed from Chris. Perhpas my favorite comic ever.

Prayers

2006-09-05T08:31:00.000-07:00

I received word that the Afrikaans missionary I worked with in S.Af. had an emotional breakdown on Monday. Please pray for both her and the orphanage, which will be sustained only by Christ in her absence. Also pray for one of the HIV+ babies (6mo. old) who has caught pneumonia and is in hospital. The prayers of the righteous avail much, thanks be to God.

Movie-watching

2006-09-01T13:32:00.000-07:00

Last night I had my parents, a friend, and my 13-yr-old brother sit down to watch "Beyond Borders" with me, and realized something about my movie-watching habits. Since I have returned to the States I have this handful of movies that I want everyone I know to watch with me - why? They are good movies, but not all excellent films....maybe it would help if I told you the titles: "Yesterday", "Tsotsi", and "Beyond Borders" are the main ones so far.

In last night's film there is a scene near the beginning when "Sarah" stops the caravan to pick up a child who is scarcely recognizable as that, and being eyed by a vulture. My friend said, "Oh come on, there can't be children like that", as he turned toward me all I could do was nod. And it clicked all of a sudden why I show the same movies to everyone - because a handufl of scenes in them show the things that I can't say. I can't explain what it's like to hold a child dying of starvation or how hard it is to tell a woman she is HIV+ or what it's like to live in a place where one block is mansions and a mile down the road is corrugated shanties. Each of these films expresses a scene, a story, or a context that I know but cannot share.

Praying....

2006-08-29T14:35:00.000-07:00

to...errr.....for.....ummm....with Saints? Without being Roman.

The question that must be addressed first, it seems, is who is part of the Church. There have typically been two parts of the Church of Christ: the visible and the invisible, comprised of "faithful men" who have preached the Word purely and administered the Sacraments according to Christ's ordinances (BCP, Article XIX). The writer of Hebrews tells us that we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses (12:1) directly after having written about the faith of our ancestors and fathers from the Old Testament. Here, as well as in other places, we are told that we live our lives before those that have gone before [not to mention the angels] and their faith should inspire us. My point here is that they are still involved in the life of the Church, in our lives. We also call them the Church victorious, those who have fought the good fight and been called faithful servants due to their adoption in Christ as sons and their participation in the Body of Christ (both at the right hand of the Father and the Bride of Christ on earth). So, they are still part of the Church Body, they are our brothers and sisters forever and ever.

Secondly, it is a very clear principle throughout the New Testament that we should be offering up prayers on behalf of the Body. Christ prays for those that would believe (Jn. 17:9; :20), Paul records what he is praying for the different churches (Col. 1:9; II Thes 1:11), and he asks for prayers on behalf of himself and other churches (I Thes 5:25; Heb. 13:18). I don't think even this much is necessary to prove, but the point is that we are supposed to be praying for one another, and for the churches around the world that we don't even personally know.

Thirdly, in Rev. 8:3 the angel gathers all the prayers of the saints together with incense and these surround the Throne. I don't believe I overstep the texts cited by thinking that the victorious saints as our witnesses are raising their prayers with ours for those things that St. Paul tells the Church to pray for (e.g. holiness, purity, perserverance, etc...). And if you grant me that, then I don't see any problem with asking St. Therese of Liseaux (patron saint of tuberculosis, which claimed her life at 24 years) to pray for my brother T____________who has tuberculosis. She knows better than I how to pray for him in his specific illness and she is our sister in the victorious battle of faith.

A couple more thoughts.
1) I don't know if I have enough of a basis to say that St. Therese will pray for T_________ in the same way my mother will if I ask her (i.e. I don't have the verbal assurance).
2) Even if you think that there is not enough of a foundation to propose this, I don't see how we can say that it is wrong or evil to ask the saints to pray for ourselves or the brethren.

That's all for now. Please give me your thoughts.

2006-08-29T14:31:00.000-07:00

ICONS. I recently had a discussion about them with my dad, who grew up in the Roman Catholic Church during a period of time that most seem to want to forget. He, like many during the 50's-60's, left the Church with a rotten taste in his mouth. While we were talking about icons, I brought up the point that protestant evangelicals don't seem to have any problem with putting a fridge magnet of George Bush up or a calendar of the most influential people in American history, or the like. I hope they don't worship them, and doubt they do, so why do they have them? To emulate, be inspired, reminded of sacrifice or leadership, to pray for those in similar sitations, etc... No wrong there. But, put a halo above their heads and usually the stones are picked up, the torches lit.
In my conversation I was pleasantly surprised, though, that there was some reception to the idea of putting Holy Christian men and women on our walls. Perhaps the reaction period is starting to dwindle, or we are trying to get back some of the baby we threw out with the bathwater - I don't know, but I'm excited.
Why do I have a picture of Mother Teresa's hands? Her hands represent the call of her soul, the charity of her heart, and the joy of her countenance. She was called to the poor and needy, a call that I share in. Looking at her hands reminds me to live out that calling, to make ready my hands to do the work of the Lord at all times. There are many other saints of old time that have taught my mind, soul, and body - and I find it very helpful to be reminded of those lessons, of their lives, of their sacrifices.
So how about it?

Water in the Wine

2006-08-26T11:48:00.000-07:00

Not my poem, but a very humorous poem by G.K. Chesterton, who alone could blame Noah for the teetotallers.

Old Noah he had an ostrich farm and fowls on the largest scale,
He ate his egg with a ladle in a egg-cup big as a pail,
And the soup he took was Elephant Soup and fish he took was Whale,
But they all were small to the cellar he took when he set out to sail,
And Noah he often said to his wife when he sat down to dine,
"I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine."
The cataract of the cliff of heaven fell blinding off the brink
As if it would wash the stars away as suds go down a sink,
The seven heavens came roaring down for the throats of hell to drink,
And Noah he cocked his eye and said, "It looks like rain, I think,
The water has drowned the Matterhorn as deep as a Mendip mine,
But I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine."
But Noah he sinned, and we have sinned; on tipsy feet we trod,
Till a great big black teetotaller was sent to us for a rod,
And you can't get wine at a P.S.A., or chapel, or Eisteddfod,
For the Curse of Water has come again because of the wrath of God, And water is on the Bishop's board and the Higher Thinker's shrine,
But I don't care where the water goes if it doesn't get into the wine.

First Steps...

2006-08-24T16:09:00.000-07:00

Well, here is my first attempt at posting something, just something. This is a poem that I never finished (I was actually going to put it into proper form), so it remains in free verse (I know, not very classical of me at all! Where was I trained....). Please critique and tell me if you think some of my images could be cleared up or words replaced. It might help if you paste into Word or something, because I lost the format in this small confined space, and printed it is in the shape of a font or chalice.

Cheers.

Font and Chalice

Creation’s glory ascribed to Thee Oh Lord, Who yesterday, today, forever the same.
Thy throne ushered forth the waters that at Thy command birthed the world’s first form.
The same river, four-branched, brought life to Thy sacred Garden and watered Thy flock.
When mankind to vile sins did stoop in crimes too great for Thy imparted image to endure,
The four-fingered currents faced one another in frenzied haste, all obeying Thy just command
To baptize the child that from them had sprung. Their course not finished, they freely flowed
Through the lands of Egypt, where defiled they became. So Thou didst ordain that they in
Judgement should be purified through the blood that from Thy staff flowed. Thus shamed,
Thou madest them open up as a woman in childbirth that ushers her child into a new land.
As Thou with Thy finger continued to dig the trench of faith within Thy people’s heart,
So hardened they were that Thou decreed a fragment of stone to surge forth a stream.
Still jaded their soul was unfulfilled,
Till the time when Thou begot
The Rock of Faith
Which offered
The Waters
Eternal,
Which
At the
Cross
In holy
Covenant
Married the
Water and Blood.
Israel’s faith we fulfill,
As through Thy font we pass
And life from Life, we are reborn.
Thereafter clean, graciously admitted
To Thy holy Table, partakers we become.
Now in thankful chorus we raise our hymn of joy
Because at the Father’s whim He deigned to sup with us
Being triune-joined with Son, He Himself becomes the Host, Guest, and Food.
Let the flocks upon the thousandth hill be fed, for no longer does Egypt hold captive.
The rivers return to their four-winged course and carry with them the endless Fountainhead,

To Whom creation praises aloud with glory, laud and honor to Threefold Father Son and Spirit

Blogging...A Dirty Word??

2006-08-24T15:33:00.000-07:00

I was just reading some of my very good friends' blogs and wondering why I seem to have blogger's block. I write all the time, I love to write short essays and poems and little tidbits about the world that I find amusing or intriguing. But putting on the internet seems a strange thing still. Maybe I have not moved into the next generation yet, maybe I still like pen and paper, maybe I like to keep my writings to myself so that noone can shatter the world of Nicole's mind. I don't know really, but I thought today that I could probably benefit from having people read and comment on my writing and maybe (just maybe) someone else would benefit from reading my writings.

This being said, I am not promising words that plunge the depths or even touch the white-capped waves, but maybe a grain of sand or salt here or there. And I profer an invitation for all of you to correct me, mock me, laugh at me, challenge me, or just ignore me.

The Path of Tomorrow

2006-07-21T20:09:00.000-07:00

I hope that the silence broken by the rapid-fire posts will bring a smile to one of you...

Over three months ago I received a phone call while I was in South Africa, it was the Headmaster of the Academy I had graduated. He asked if I would consider coming back to teach for the school this next year, something I had never planned nor expected on doing - in fact, I laughed while I was on the phone. First of all, it was in the area I grew up in, the area that has three thousand inhabitants on a good day. Second, I thought that surely I would have better things to do than teach five-year-olds Latin and Greek. Thirdly, I was going to attend Nursing School. Obviously, it wasn't going to be an option, but I agreed to consider and pray about it. I had no idea that my laugh would be a far-off echo of Sarah's, the common voice being that both of us would see our surety crumble into foolishness.

In the blur of Africa and Europe and returning to the States, the Lord (and believe me, it could only have been His working...) began to incline my heart towards staying near my family, the Academy, and my Church. However, I applied to Nursing Schools and talked to counselor's and tried to get everything together to get into a program. The same response came from each - Nursing Program closed for enrollment until Spring Semester. And then I looked at the pre-req's. I am short a couple classes, one of which is a year-long course. To cut my story short, I will be doing the pre-req's as well as all the Non-Core classes that go along side the Nursing program. This I will do at a local college (don't worry, the next town has nearly 14,000 people - a thriving metropolis), be available to teach part-time at the Academy, and most importantly, influence and watch my three younger siblings grow (13, 10, & 8 yrs) - something I've missed for quite a few years now.

That's the Path of Tomorrow as I can tell so far. I know that I can see so little of all the landmarks, faces, challenges, and joys that it will hold - but my Master has directed, and I can do none but follow.

The Course of our Lives

2006-07-21T19:58:00.000-07:00

I have been silent for a while now, and I apologize for those of you who faithfully check for any news.
In the way of the Christian life, it seems the more you trust in our Christ, the less you "know" about the next steps in your life. Perhaps it is the overwhelming assurance that you don't have to, an assurance that conquers human fears and stumbling steps (or worse, blind ones). Or maybe it is just me that needs to be schooled in trusting and following my Lord and Husband, and being such, He gently conceals what is to come while at the same time implanting a godly desire to follow in a certain way. It has been in the past year particularly that I have rested in this, rested in His peace, rested in His guidance, rested in Wisdom itself. And how beautiful it is to follow the One Who has always seen.

Dedicated To My Children

2006-07-21T19:55:00.000-07:00

Long ago, in the mists of time,
He fashioned you and formed you and proclaimed,
“You are mine!”
And His word proclaimed is His word fulfilled,
so it was as your Father said.

I came across you there, and I knew. The promise was mine to give.
Not an obligation, not a need, not a duty or a task I had been given –
but a desire born of love…
That great and enduring blessing, which He gave to me to give to you.

As I sat and watched you breathing, and ran my hand across your soft, dark curls,
I considered the promise.
Not to be given lightly, such a promise.
A promise, not for a day, or a week, or a year… but always.
A promise, not only for the smiles and the roses and the sunny days,
but also for the tears, and the thorns and the thunderstorms.

Through the bottles and baths, the health and the sickness,
the new lives and the fresh graves I knew our Father’s voice:
“I will share in every trouble,
I will give you each joy doubled”
In that moment your gaze fell on me, and I saw your Father reflected in your smile.
And I knew that you were mine… For as long as the journey lasts.

For as long as the journey lasts… and yet I do not know the destination.
I will carry you with me, down this path, and we will listen for His voice.
Maybe tomorrow you’ll be going away, maybe today.
It may be a good while yet… so stay.

And as He charges me, so I pledge to you:
To love in patience, knowing that this world is new to you.
To love you kindly, knowing that you have been ripped from the warmth of a womb.
To love you with joy, knowing that your face may shortly be covered with dark earth.
To love you gently, knowing that you need my mother’s touch.
To love you through prayer, knowing that in them we will be always together.
I will bear with you, believe in your purpose, and endure all things with you.
I will love you always.

Beyond this hour, beyond this day, beyond the parting of our ways.
Because you were mine… and I chose to promise… For all time.

May Update (yes, a little late)

2006-06-14T13:36:00.000-07:00

"...He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. And when He brings out his own sheep, he goes before them; and the sheep follow Him for they know His voice." John 10:3

God has been so gracious to provide a bit of time in the UK to meet with other missionaries, old friends, new contacts, and to sit back, meditate, read and just "be". I spent the past year almost always around people, and as every mother knows, children don't seem to understand it when you try to be alone for a while. Thus, even after I would go to my room and be in bed, there would often be a quiet knocking and someone would need a cuddle, or a tucking in, or wanted a nighttime prayer. And then, all of a sudden, there were no children, no babies, no little footsteps at my door, but, God had graciously so orchestrated that the first place I stopped in England was with a family which has been involved in orphanage work for the past couple years. This allowed me to be open about my ministry, and more importantly, they understood completely the context I was talking about, and how it was to leave the children. It was wonderful, and the next ten days were filled with people who were very encouraging and I was surrounded by the lush green landscape and beautiful sights that I had not seen in a long time. God also opened up opportunities to speak with the students at a Bible School in York as well as several missionaries, which were unexpected blessings.

Though I was a bit worn out after traveling around the UK, it was a refreshed tiredness. And I flew into Budapest on the 19th, where I met with five other missionaries and continued with them through Eastern Europe. One of them I was in Kosovo with last year, Robbie Mezger, and this time his sister and brother-in-law are also with him. It has been a wonderful time of working with them, as they are considering moving to this area as full-time missionaries. It was amazing driving down from Budapest, through Hungary, Croatia, Bosnia, and Serbia and see the contrasts between countries lately ridden with war. We went to a petrol station in Serbia where we didn't speak English and then crossed the border of Kosovo and were loved because we spoke American.

We started out from Budapest and headed South, through Serbian borders, and then stopped over at a Seminary in Usjeck, Croatia. This part of Croatia very much still holds the scars of war upon nearly every wall. Some places here look and feel ominous and ghostly, a strange an unnatural silence prevailing, in the midst of which can be heard the hardened cries of unvoiced anger, hurt, and depression. And then we entered into the land of America-lovers: Kosovo. In this beautiful land we stayed with the same missionary that hosted us last year, and were involved with many of the same people there. It was very meaningful to return to the same city, Mitrovice, because I enjoyed the culture so much last year, and began some relationships that God has allowed me to continue through this year. These are a people that have done a commendable job rebuilding their shelled out homes but have yet to look towards the Master Builder to restore the life within them.

After our time in Kosovo we had a long drive to Dubrovnik, Croatia. The journey was glorious. Montenegro was mountainous with these jagged rock snow-covered mountains behind the green ones. And as it was a sunny day, the splendor of the Lord lit upon the peaks, saturated the sparse villages that precariously hung off the mountainsides, and reached down to the ravine that lay beneath us. What a site it was! In addition to the beauty we saw, we happened to be in Montenegro about ten hours after they declared independence from Serbia. We had been assured that it would be safe enough to be in the country on the day, and it was such a laugh to come to the border where all the guards could hardly stand because they were still half-drunk from the night before. We were gladly waved through

We headed out again and went to Bosnia. Even worse than Croatia were the buildings of Mostar and Sarajevo. We stopped in Mostar and walked around skeletons of buildings and into the downtown, which would appear in any other setting a nearly-normal downtown with sellers and ice cream shops. But scattered throughout, in corners or against walls, were signs that simply said, "Don't Forget". It has been 13 years since the year of death in Mostar, but with the constant daily reminders of shell-holed buildings and bomb-potted streets it would seem impossible to forget. As we moved through the country to Sarajevo, the story was the same. Here there has been more rebuilding and repair work, but there are still many, many reminders of the war. One of which would be the city graveyard filling the rolling hills with white monuments, all with the numbers 1995. I wonder if those hills mind that they have been so aerated by these steeples of white, or if they have calmly continued to push up the grass and daisies all the same. Whichever way, the sight is tragically luminous, like an host of candles on top a chocolate cake, whose flames will never again be lit. That being said, we were able to meet and get to know missionaries there who dream for a greater Light to stand upon that hill and cover the hurts of war and suffering. And they are vigorously praying and doing in order to see that happen.

We carried on to Vukovar, Croatia where we stayed with the pastor of one of the local churches that Robbie knew. Out of everywhere we went, this city grabbed my heart. The silence of the streets and the people was uncharacteristic; the cloud of depression was heavy upon the town and its inhabitants. It seemed that even the Communist buildings had begun to feel the weight of their gray and crumbling perfectly-placed stones. In this city God established a relationship between a woman in her late twenties and me. She did me the honour of sharing her difficult story with me and asking for advice. She has been given cause to doubt everything and everyone in the world, including herself and God, but now she is at an end, a place where she will either cling to Christ, or struggle against drowning in the dark sea which surrounds her. My prayers are that she will look to Christ, and I would ask all of you to join me in praying for someone to come alongside her to encourage her and to show her the Love which is immutable.

Another move to Zagreb to meet with a missionary family there for a few days, and then off we went to Budapest to debrief with one another. Altogether we had a wonderful trip and were able to bring hope and encouragement to both the missionaries and churches in these areas, which is always such an honour and testimony to the Head of this Family which spans the nations.

Some more news is that I will be returning stateside in June. It will be wonderful to meet again with my family, Churches, and friends in the late June/July months. The thing I look forward to most is rejoining a local flock, to be in the midst of fellow sheep both to encourage and be encouraged.

Until we meet again in the flesh. In the Eternal Presence, Nicole de Martimprey