I woke up not wanting to go as usual. As I showered, ate some yogurt, and applied my eyeliner I knew, I always know that good things were going to happen, surprises, glimpses of Jesus. Once a month I join the volunteers at a small soup kitchen. I started going to speak dutch but then I just couldn't stop coming. This particular Friday started with hellos and kisses and warm dutch greetings (I hadn't been there in a couple months so we were extra excited to see eachother). We then sat down in our customary places to smear stacks and stacks and piles of bread. First butter (dutch style), then some with peanut butter, some jam, meat, egg, cheese, and chocolate hagelslag. After the sandwiches were done and the soup sizzling we satt down to tea and coffee, a devotion and some songs. I really have to concentrate then to catch the variety of strong southern and eastern dutch accents.

A half hour later the doors open and the place begins to hum. Hundreds of men and a few women sit and enjoy cups and cups of coffee and dozens of sandwiches. It's especially full in the cold weather. Some wait for a shower, others get clean clothes, and we all sit and talk and relate and be in our humanness together. I usually have a hard time being one of the few women and usually the youngest. I feel strange... I worry that when I'm kind and cheerful and interested in the men's lives, that it's taken the wrong way.

I now remember a talk Eric gave a couple months ago on giving. I will never forget this talk. It hit me in the gut. Sometimes we think, oh we shouldn't give money to people, they may buy drugs, etc. and he spoke right to that mentality by quoting C.S. Lewis.. who said something like, it's better to be thought a sucker, to be taken in by someone who didn't really need money, thinking they would just drink it away - than to keep it, since it would have been better to just have drunk the money ourselves. It's better to be taken in by someone who didn't need money than to miss one person who has real need.

And I thought, it's the exact same thing here... my part, what God calls me to do give love and relate with anyone he puts in front of me. I don't have to worry if they're taking it the wrong way or not. God handles that part. He calls me to give and give and give boldly and generously.

And I was a different person that day... laughing and having fun in the kitchen (got a beautiful red paper rose from one sweet grandpa), had coffee with a man who was born in 1940. Through his rattly breathing he told me stories of what his parents experiences during the war and finally at one point he left unexpectedly. A half hour later he was back with newspapers from 1941, 1943, and 1945! All in dutch, all from papers that are still operating today. It was fascinating to look at the old pages, the articles on life during Nazi occupation, the end of the war, atomic bomb and so on. Finally he slid them across the table and said, they're for you, take them and show your parents. He wouldn't let me refuse. I was so honored.

I walked away that day overwhelmed, thinking... so that's how it's supposed to work! There's such joy and freedom in that kind of giving!

I am from

My sister either came up with this idea or found it somewhere.. don't quiet remember but it's too sweet not to share with the world. It's a fun poetry exercise she did with her first grade students (it can be for any age!) entitled, "I am from."

Here's the idea:

1. Write down sensory memories from childhood/life.

smell, touch, sight, hearing, taste

2. Think about sayings you heard often/ lyrics from songs, like...

"don't let the bed bugs bite"

"safely in his bosom gather"

3. Think about things you smelled, food, mom's perfume, or the feeling of a family blanket

4. Write the senses down, don't explain them, but be detailed. Don't just say, "I am from dad saying " I love you more than the stars" say instead "I am from "I love you more than the stars."

5. Put "I am from" before your memories. List some together.

Here is the one I'm currently working on. It's in process. If you write your own, please write and share it with me! I'd love to read it! You could even have your whole family write one one evening.

"I am from"

I am from dress up, homemade theatre and slippery tile floors.

I am from road trips with zween zween and junkers.

I am from Sam and Pam and Henrietta bedtime stories.

I am from strict French school and kisses on cheeks.

I am from head coverings and cigarettes.

I am from elbow wrinkles and “Swallows and Amazons.”

I am from Pirate’s Cove and fake aunts and uncles.

I am from grandpa and grandma blueberry and God stories.

I am from math with dad, surprise checks in the mail, and free cars.

I am from “we’re moving” and goodbye and hello.

I am from bookworm and "rules are made to be broken."

I am from olives, tangerines, and cream cheese cookies.

I am from mom's sisters and skinny dipping.

I am from trips to Michigan and berry picking.

I am from Saturday morning pancakes and “stand up and walk.”

I need to find some hobbies. Bad. A list of interesting slightly unusual hobbies so that the next time I get asked the "what are your hobbies?" over a beer or tea I'll have some backup. I mean come on, I thought I had things I like to do in my free time... but they just don't seem to fit inside the framework of "hobbies." That word is just intimidating. It sounds lame to say I like studying languages, museums, comic strip reading, riding public transport in big cities, wrapping presents, skyping. How do those stand up to yoga classes, cooking, oil painting, and a bit of squash at the gym?

People love knowing what you enjoy doing in your free time in Holland. You put your hobbies on you cv, you talk about them in an interview, you share them with your neighbors. Last night I was asked again... and my answer: "ummmm, watch movies.... ummm go to museums.... hmmm make art (that was a lie= don't really make time for that anymore).... " so at a certain point she had pity on me and helped me out, "do you like to go out? dance? do you play an instrument, do you sport?... "

I need to get myself some hobbies. Allie found a pilates class nearby... that sounds legit. I'll try that... or maybe there's skydiving in Holland? I wouldn't be surprised in the least.

photos from 2009 church retreat

smelling the roses

Pictures from our birthday bash in Vondelpark. Gloria (age 4!), John, and I all celebrated our birthdays. It was lovely fun to enjoy the gorgeous day together and bring all our friends together for some cupcakes and joy!

do you ever feel like you're on the verge of greatness?

So, today I woke up and wanted to change the world... to speak for human rights, to facilitate conversation between people of many faiths, to end world poverty by walking in to a conference room and yelling at every money hungry ceo I could find convicting them deep in their soul, to recycle more faithfully, to cut my shower time down, to write letters to politicians, to be better informed, join a community organization, grow my own tomatoes, personally greet every person I pass on the sidewalk, become fluent in Dutch overnight and move on to Arabic, get my masters in Islamic studies or something fascinating like that, maybe at the same time start studying art history while trying to one and for all kick the word "like" out of my vocabulary, running to help when I see an accident, and on and on...

...and I one hand it can be dreamy and adrenaline inducing to think along these lines but then I think about Jesus who brought justice and life to every person he encountered. Not just the big dogs. He didn't just try to bring justice to women by making a new law, or feed the sick by forcing all the rich to empty their vaults, he simply encountered each person and one at a time loved them. And I'm not saying that people shouldn't change laws and do the "big" stuff, but it does comfort me knowing that I'm not a politician and won't be doing that sort of thing, that I can still be a apart of the change.

... and I think of the Middle Eastern concept of being bound to whoever is in your presence.... even if you're on the way to the most important meeting of you life and you run in to your neighbor who's car broke down and they need a lift, since they're in your presence, as a Middle Easterner that would trump all else. The meeting could wait, the next thing can wait.... this sister of brother is in your presence and in that place is where we're called to act, to be. And for me, as a westerner, that's one of the most terrifying things for me. I love my agenda, I fill each day nicely full, trying to use my time wisely, checking things off as I go....

And just as I head out the door to "change the world," it hits me... ok, who changed the world? Jesus. He was a human living and being love to people. Yes, He was God.. but He was also just as much human, and as a human I can learn from Him. He changed the world through interacting in radically different ways with people... with the people right in front of him.... remember the story when Jesus is on the way to heal the leader's daughter and the woman who'd been bleeding for a long time touched him... he stopped and talked to her, healed her first before going on to the house. I want to be like that Jesus, someone who changes the world by loving the people who are in front of me.... whoever that may be, whether it's a friend in language school, or little Grayson, or my old neighbor downstairs, or the person in the grocery store yesterday who was only short 1 euro at the cash register and I didn't give it to him, oh I long to be that person... and I think, I hope that in the process of loving who's in front of me, I do get to take part in changing the world.