Got the Travel Bug AGAIN......

Every few months I get extremely restless. 

My children often wonder if they are children of gypsies! The gypsy blood I have in my veins....The desire to see new places, and eat new foods, and hear new sounds, becomes stronger and stronger in me until suddenly I am preparing for a trip to Kenya, or Haiti, or Brazil, or even Canada. 

Truth be told, my parents come from Mennonite farming stock, but my ancestors for the past 500 years or so were on the move, not because they wanted to be adrift or even travel but because they believed in adult baptism and so went from Holland to Prussia, Russia, then Canada, Mexico and even Central America to avoid persecution by the Catholics and Lutherans. Maybe that is where the genetic urge to travel comes from. My maternal grandpa and I spent many afternoons reading travel books together, he reading about places he would never visit, me researching for the future travels I would make. 

When I was in Grade 12, I spent a Friday night at a friend's house and came home Saturday morning to see my mother doing laundry. My mother only did laundry on Mondays, NEVER any other day! So when I asked her why, she said, "Because we are leaving for California this afternoon." Okay....my father did not like to plan, for fear that what he desired would not happen. So the 5 of us left that afternoon for a 2 week trip to California, school left behind and new adventures around every curve. And while we were there we saw the desert, the beach and some other wonderful views. We stayed in very cheap hotels, got meals from grocery store supplies, and drove...a lot. 

We did the same thing when I was in Grade 10 and we went to New Orleans for Christmas. Drove...a lot. Saw and toured a couple of antebellum mansions, ate at places in the French Quarter where most tourists would not go. My dad struck up a conversation with anyone anywhere, never had any fear to talk to a stranger, and so we always heard interesting stories. From the horse and carriage driver, the blues singer, the nun, the prostitute, the plantation owner, anyone with a story....we were not embarrassed by Dad because we got to hear the stories too....and we learned more on those trips than in our classrooms at home.  


We traveled anywhere my dad could drive. Then I married a guy who also has that gypsy blood (his mother is Russian Mennonite and his father was Norwegian - some Viking stuff going on and they were travelers too, right? I think that is the polite word for invaders?) He does most of his traveling on a BMW motorcycle (almost a million miles so far) even when overseas. Together we have traveled to a great many countries. I have traveled to over 30 countries, some more extensively than others of course. There are so many left to visit, and some to which I want to return for more discovery. This world and its people are incredibly interesting. My husband and I always enjoy our travels together and have had some interesting adventures. Stories to come......

Reno in heated jacket liner riding
a motorcycle in the rain in Morocco
drinking hot mint tea.

If you have not experienced that little hollow feeling inside that gives you a craving for new vistas, then maybe you are fortunate. It is like an illness, and the only cure is to get on a plane, in a car, or on a motorcycle, or start walking and go.......somewhere else....I feel the fever coming on again........did I ever tell you about how we took our two teenagers out of school and traveled for a year...by motorcycle?

Maybe next time. Right now I have a map to check....

Reno greeting one of the teachers in a rural school in Malawi

Chasing Francis...Someone send me to Italy, please.

A sort of review of Chasing Francis by Ian Morgan Cron

Fiction wisdom literature is an interesting genre in Christian publishing, and it has been revived in recent years. This genre had mostly been used for self-help or even new age authors trying to pass on a story with underlying morals, principles, and yes....wisdom. I generally stay away from Christian fiction, because I am an English Literature major, which means I am a snob about good writing, and except for the exceptions like Madeline L'Engle or C.S.Lewis who are in a category of their own, the fiction I read is generally not published by Zondervan.

Think of when The Shack exploded onto the market a few years ago. When I read The Shack, I knew it was fiction and read it as such. People were recommending it as a must-read but they all refused to give you any details. "You have to read it for yourself," they said. I heard preachers praising it or condemning it because some thought it was being portrayed as an actual experience and that scared them, and some thought it had some new and interesting thoughts and that excited them. What I took from reading it was that God was awfully fond of me, and I like the idea of God having a good sense of humor. While I take my faith very seriously, the novel introduced me to the possibility of a sense of playfulness in my relationship with God.

Reading a blog recently that praised a new book, I went to the website of Ian Morgan Cron and saw the chance to download two chapters of his new book, Chasing Francis. Reading those two chapters made me laugh and made me cry....and I immediately went to Amazon and ordered the book. When it arrived, I was disappointed to discover that the book was a work of fiction...wisdom literature it was called. Don't get me wrong....I am a fiction junkie. I often read 100+ books a year, and over half of those would be fiction. But those two chapters had led me into believing this was someone's real life account of their experience, and I was hooked.

I wanted to vicariously follow this stumbling pastor who had lost his way and see what he saw on his pilgrimage in Italy. I wanted him to be a real human being that I could relate to, and not just use his story as a fictional escape from my own life.  Like The Shack, The Celestine Prophecy, and many others, Chasing Francis has a fabulous idea, and pulls you into a story that keeps you going.....until the third last chapter or so....every one of those authors seems to have a little schmaltzy lag in the story line around that part of the book, which in this case, revives again, even with a fairly predictable ending. Chasing Francis has its' lag when the hard-luck, clumsy but beautiful single woman from his congregation chases him to Italy.

The pastor has this perfect (and much coveted by me) opportunity to find himself in Italy. He conveniently has an uncle who is an Italian Franciscan monk who takes him on a pilgrimage, following the life work of St. Francis of Assisi. I learned a great deal about the saint's life that I never knew before, and it made me want to read more about this rich kid who turns his world upside down and restores the faith and the church of a community in rural Italy (Francis would be considered a bit of a celeb today, maybe even a bit of a nutcase, but loveable and very admirable in his faith). In the process of his pilgrimage, the pastor meets with the wise hermit who can give wisdom just by his presence, the jovial friar, and the clumsy woman who wins his heart. All the characters help him in his inner pilgrimage to "restore the joy of his salvation".

It is different when an actual autobiography or even memoir where the author tells a story of what actually happened, but when you are making it appear to be a memoir, and it lapses into schmaltzy, even if for a chapter or two, it is deflating for the reader because you want so badly for this to be a true actual real story. I REALLY DID!!

I did greatly enjoy the book, and would hope that Mr. Cron would not take offense at the word schmaltzy, as his writing has moments of brilliance and despite the one chapter, the reader is left with a connection (with the pastor's struggles), a sense of wonder (at the life and work of Francis of Assisi) and longing (I too would love to take the same pilgrimage). If only I had an uncle who was a Franciscan monk and would invite me to Italy.....alas, none of my uncles would ever qualify as monks.




 

Don't Stop...Don't Give Up....Keep trying.....it's in my head now.

How many times have you been tempted to give up...on a dream, on a relationship, on an idea, on life...?

This nice gentleman was in my office today, and he has quite a story to tell. He watched the movie, Second Hand Lions, and decided to bring a yacht back to his pond in southeast Missouri. In spite of it taking a month to get his yacht from Florida to Missouri, with most of the time stuck in Alabama, he did not give up, and is restoring this beautiful boat today. Way to go, George.

In my work, I deal with people who have already given up and with some who want to give up. But there are those rare souls who have been handed a whole basket full of lemons, and then just go on and make lemonade. Tracy lost his sight in one eye, but is thrilled that due to a marvelous surgeon, he will get to actually keep the eye. So what if he had to undergo over 5 hours of surgery. Angie found a new job where they are thrilled to have her cheerful spirit, and she gets a new lease on life. So what if her last boss was a real piece of work. Debbie has left a very abusive husband, and is working in a nursing home where she feels she has much love and caring to give to people confined to beds and chairs. So what if her memories of married life still give her bad dreams.



If you haven't already seen this little girl's version of a Yo Gabba Gabba song - (not having little kids around, I had to google it) - her version of Don't Give Up gets in your head.

While I have been tempted to give up on some things this past year, people like the ones mentioned above encouraged me.....I won't give up....I will keep trying.......





 

Monday, Monday...under the mango tree.....

Like the lyrics to the song made famous by the Mamas and the Papas, I find Monday mornings the most difficult part of the week, right after Sunday evening.

There seems to be a pattern to our days, and for a semi-free spirit like myself, I often wish that there could be more spontaneity to my life. Like this, the first ever flash mob dance that seemed spontaneous but of course had been very carefully choreographed and has now been imitated many times in many different ways.

 
If money is no object, then you have the freedom to "do" more spontaneous things, but as there are moths in my wallet, I will just have to "be" more spontaneous. We heard a good sermon this past week on doing and being.

We, especially as North Americans, just want to do, do, do......and in other countries, it is often more important that you "be". I have reminded of this many times as I see many churches (my own included) or service clubs sending out mission teams that always "do" construction or VBS for kids, or medical missions, etc. etc.  Of course many of these things are much needed. Yet we also need to "be"....be present in the moment, be in the lives of the people we want to "do" things for, be a light in the darkness, be a loving, caring human being. After all, we are called human "be"ings, not human "do"ings, although the later might apply to some of us.

A Malawian friend once said to me, "Sometimes it is just so good to have someone visit from North America who will  just be with us, sit with us, walk with us, eat with us, and let us know that there are other people of faith in this world. We are not alone, and because you have been here with us, we can be together in our struggle to live a life of faith, especially when times are hard."

It was a profound moment for me.

Since that time, I have tried to always find at least one person in the country that I am visiting with whom I can sit under a mango tree, or in their front yard, or in their school or church, and just listen and maybe talk. It is amazing at the amount of communication you can have with someone whose language you do not know, through gestures, smiles, and nods. If I see a woman sorting beans or chopping tomatoes, I will often sit beside her and help her in her work if she is okay with that.

Maybe I just need more time under the mango tree today.

Monday Monday, so good to me,
Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be
Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening you would still be here with me.

Monday Monday, can't trust that day,
Monday Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way
Oh Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be
Oh Monday Monday, how could you leave and not take me.

Every other day, every other day,
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah
But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes
You can find me cryin' all of the time

Monday Monday, so good to me,
Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be
Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening you would still be here with me.

Every other day, every other day,
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah
But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes
You can find me cryin' all of the time

Monday Monday, ...

Nighty night........

Middle of the night and I can't sleep.....again. So I thought I would tell you a bedtime story. 

When our son was 3, he liked to dig in the dirt with his little shovel. He  unfortunately liked digging right by the gate between the house and the garage, often causing problems for people trying to walk into the yard.

My husband tried to be a smart dad and had our son take his little red wagon filled with dirt and some grass seeds to the hole by the gate. Together they planted the seeds, filled in the dirt and watered the seeds, talking about the importance of not digging in that particular spot.

Later that night there was a big storm which knocked down a huge branch in our yard. It fell over the exact spot between the house and garage where father and son had planted seeds earlier that same day.

Our 3 year old son got out of bed extra early and went to check on his planting project. He opened the back door only to be confronted with the leaves and branches of the fallen limb filling the doorway in front of him! We woke up when our son ran into our bedroom jumping on our bed yelling, "Daddy, you planted the wrong seeds. Daddy you planted the wrong seeds."

Okay I can sleep now - good night....

Friday means I get to read all weekend....Books, love them, gotta have them, can't live without them....

I grew up reading. 

Reading is like breathing to me. I cannot live without reading. People at the library always know me no whatever where I live because I am there at least every week or so. 

My parents did not get a TV into our house until I had left home, so even though I am a Baby Boomer, I did not see many of the tv shows that my fellow boomers grew up on. Many tv shows I saw for the first time when they were re-runs after I was married. When my husband and I were newly married, I fell in love with James T. Kirk and watched all the re-running episodes of Star Trek that came on every day at 5:00 pm when I came home from work. That would have been in the mid-70's. 

So instead of TV, I read. In the long winter evenings in the frozen north, we read out loud to each other. Classics like Old Yeller and Little Women came alive as my mother read a chapter to us every night before we went to bed, and we often could hardly wait until the next evening for the next installment. My younger sister and brother are big readers too. 

On Friday afternoons I came home from school, elementary and high school to a spotless house. Friday was my mom's cleaning day and she kept a very clean house. I would grab an apple and whatever book I was reading, and sit in my little corner in the living room where the sun was shining and I would revel in the experience. Bliss.......

My parents would say that if they could not find me, they only had to look for a book and my nose would be in it. My maternal grandparents lived only a block away and I was grandpa's favorite. When I went to the library I would pick out travel books that we could read together, and we pored over many a book about Mexico (his favorite) or Africa (my favorite). I sat with him at his handmade rolltop desk top, and we would look through the pictures of exotic places and talk about how we would like to visit those places. 

Luckily I married a reader. My husband reads differently than me, but we enjoy many of the same books, especially about travel. I also love mysteries - not the blood and gore kind, but the police procedural novels that talk more about how the detectives solve the mystery than how the crime was committed. Henning Mankell is a great writer, and got me hooked on Swedish and then Scandanavian mystery writers - that was after I had read all of the Inspector Wexford novels by Ruth Rendell, and the Inspector Morse and on and on.... My big love are the books that tell another person's travel experience. So many writers excite me about the places they have been and give me a little hollow feeling inside that can only be filled by planning another adventure. 

I have about 6 books just waiting for me on my beside table. I can hardly wait.

This should be fun.....more on reading to come. 

Shining a little Light into Darkness

Light vs. Darkness

Two friends shared extreme opposite views on their FaceBook status this week. One, a woman whose blog I love and follow, said  "How can light enter the dark if Christians are too afraid of what the dark will do to them?" She was in Asia, seeing the destructive side of darkness personified in the sex-trafficking of girls in Cambodia. She wants to shed light into this darkness. 

The other, a guy who works in a prison and sees darkness everyday, posted a photo that he says looks tame compared to his workplace. Everything about the picture made me think of living in darkness. Grimy people using their middle finger, lying or crawling on the ground like Zombies; it seemed to me to personify the hopelessness I imagine the world might hold for people who have no faith in God and do not live in the Light. 

As a Christian, and as a Victim Advocate in the legal system, I know there is evil in this world. One defendant recently walked out of the courtroom where he was given probation after beating up his girlfriend, and declared, "I just made a deal with the devil." He went on to beat up another man very severely and is now in prison for the next 7 years. Some deal. John 3:19 This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.

I appreciate the fight against darkness that Jamie (FB: Jamie the very worst missionary) and so many others are in thick of, often standing toe to toe with evil on a line in the sand. That is why I am doing the job I have (in spite of low pay and few perks) as a Victim Advocate. Every morning as I drive to work, I pray...for not only the victims of crime that I spend time with, but also that the whole armor of God protects my heart and my mind in the hearing of how often children and women and men are treated by other human beings in a ways that make your stomach turn and your eyes want to weep. I do it because I also strongly believe in the power of The LIGHT. John 8:12 Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” Jesus is the light in the darkness. 

Ephesians 6:10-12: Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

The only way we can fight the fight is covered with the armor of God. There are a lot of pieces to this "armor". Ephesians 6:13-19: Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith,with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. 18 And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people. 19 Pray also for me, that whenever I speak, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel. 

The good news is that we can make a difference. John 1:5 The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. The darkness does not win. "Evil only happens when good men and women do nothing" as Edmund Burke said. Put on your armor...it's time to fight.

I can't sleep....but glad for a wee bit of joy.

Joy comes at you in surprising ways, often where you least expect it!

Tonight my husband returned after a week of work in South Carolina. I had spent my week working, cleaning closets, and finishing a few projects. It was joyful to be together after 8 nights apart, especially as I was not expecting him for 2 more nights. Now it's 2 a.m. and I cannot fall asleep.

Yesterday I was able to spend the afternoon with a dear friend whose arm was in a cast, who has some major decisions in front of her, and who is stressed, tired, and hurting. Yet as we sat outside with our dogs at our feet, a nice glass of wine in our hands, and a lovely view in front of us, we experienced joy in being together and celebrating friendship.

Today I met with two friends. One asked me travel questions for her upcoming overseas trip - strange as it may seem,  this filled me with joy. I love it when someone asks for my advice about travel! I have so much overseas travel experience and it is a shame not to pass that on to someone. I am also thrilled to see her expanding her wings with her first international adventure. A second friend shared her experiences working with a mutual acquaintance which clarified that I was not losing my mind. Well, I might still be crazy but at least not about this issue. She had the same frustrations working with this person so I could rest easy knowing it wasn't just me. That gave me some joy. Wouldn't you be joyful to know you were not losing your mind!

Last Sunday at our church I took a class that revealed , through a series of interesting exercises, evaluations and tests, what ministry we might be suited for in our church. It was no surprise to me that I have some unusual God-given gifts, according to this process (and many similar evaluations) especially for a woman in a Lutheran church, and I think that once again, the pastoral staff won't know what to do with me. But it gave me joy just to have confirmed that I am not nuts and God has given me gifts to use - and if my church can't use me then maybe God will use me elsewhere. 

On Friday a client going through a very tough time asked to pray with her. It was on government property but I joyfully prayed with her. She left more peaceful and less stressed with a little bit of hope too. 

Joy often comes in the oddest places and times. In spite of continued stresses in my life, most beyond my control, God gave me a few moments of joy....and for that I am really quite joyful.

My Inner Children......

My inner child flares up every now and then, and embarrasses the heck out of me.

I want to love that inner child, but she is such a rascal. She just spits out words without a filter (even though she is a 58 year old child). Sometimes she pouts and that ain't pretty at all. Mostly she does behave and just sits and reads but the times she comes out with full force, I just want to take her across my knee.

She says, "I don't want to play nice when people take away my toys in the sandbox...When the big kids are mean...stick their tongue out at me...or throw sand in my face...or just don't like me."

After her outburst, I tell her that I understand, and I try to teach her how to deal with them big kids. I let her know that she is loved, but sometimes that does not make a bit of difference to that little red-haired stepchild. She just ain't havin' none of it. (Notice how she has acquired a bit of a southern accent too?)

When I see her appear, I cringe on one level, and yet admire her spunk on another. She wants life to be fair, and does not understand that there is no such thing. She wants to be heard, be noticed, be made a fuss of, and in her childish naiveté does not understand that life does not revolve around her and that other people have things they are dealing with too. Which means they do not understand the stresses you are dealing with either.

Yesterday, the red-headed girl came out strong when I was trying to have a very adult discussion about the future of some important work. She wiggled and squirmed her way into the conversation and soon she interrupted with her fears and frustrations. I know she just wanted the other people to love her, accept her, and listen to her, but she never comes across that way. She just seems pushy and frankly, rather annoying.

So if you happen to meet that little girl, who looks a lot like I used to, then just give her a hug. Sometimes that is enough to make her go quietly and read her book for awhile.
 

Special Words....

Our Director of CE and Youth Pastor, Emily, a wonderful and energetic young woman, is off to Texas with a whole bunch of teenagers to go to a National Youth Convention event.

19 of them and her, I think I heard. Traveling on a bus for a few days...fun, fun!

As a member of the church where Emily works and ministers, and as a writer, I was asked to create notes to some of these 20 young people as they attended this event and travelled back and forth by bus. One of the fathers had the idea that a surprise note for each person attending this event every day would be a good encouragement to them. (I hope he is right. )

So I did that - wrote 9 or 10 notes to the young people whose names I was given, and one to Emily as well, as she was also on my list. I was to write a note for the individual for a certain date of the trip, and these were to be handed out on the bus every morning.

It was an interesting process, writing these notes. I spent time in prayer before writing each one, and asked the Holy Spirit to guide my thoughts as I was writing, and to touch each person as they read my notes. I wrote from my heart and what I thought God wanted me to say. Then when I was done, I re-read what I had written, and was quite amazed at my audacity. Well, actually, not mine, but the Holy Spirit's boldness. These were not words I would have ordinarily written to people I knew, even if I was their best friend. The words all spoke directly to certain issues, and believe me, except for Emily, I do not know these kids. But God knows their hearts, and what they need each day of this important week.

Mark 13:11 "Just say whatever is given you at the time, for it is not you speaking, but the Holy Spirit."

And I was reminded that God does know our inner heart, knows us better than our best friends, or even our boyfriend/girlfriend, spouse, or our parents. God's Holy Spirit amazes me continually, and gives me information and direction about how to live my life to please God, if I only listen. That's why I have two ears and one mouth, I also keep reminding myself. Not to sound weird or airy-fairyish, but I know that if I listen, God will give me direction. And innately, I already know what was right - in God's eyes - and what I need to do, because I am a much-loved child of God.

As children of God, we have not only the right, but also the privilege, to be directed by the Holy Spirit. We are to be guided and comforted by his nudges to do what is right in the eyes of God - not in our own eyes, because we often have warped views of right and wrong based on how we were brought up, or what experiences life has brought us, or past poor or wrong decisions we have made. However, if we have given our hearts and lives to God and his forgiving love, we can take a quiet moment, and actually listen to His Spirit's gentle nudge. I say nudge because God rarely speaks with thunderous tones. If He did, we would all listen, wouldn't we?. No, it is with quiet nudges and gut impressions, so that we will slow ourselves down enough to listen...and understand that this is God's direction, not our own.

Romans 15:13 "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit".

So as you go through your day, with continual choices to make, I pray that the Holy Spirit of God will guide you with joy and enthusiasm!!