I was looking through some old poems this week when I came across a series of haiku that I wrote on my first international trip. On day one, after what seemed like an Amazing Race adventure to get there, my aunt and I climbed on a tour bus in Iceland and went to what was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen. I remember standing there breathless, tears in my eyes, because I was so taken by the beauty. When I could think again, I wrote. And I kept on writing. All through the trip to Iceland and on to Scandinavia, I wrote. Because it’s the only thing I could do to try to capture the amazement of the world:
(i)
This raging water
May be the most beautiful
I have ever seen
(ii)
Rich diversity
I am beyond overwhelmed
And simply amazed
(iii)
Volcano erupt
Mold and decorate the land
Green moss, brown boulders
(iv)
It’s a big small world
People everywhere the same
Yet very diff’rent
(v)
11:45pm
Late, brilliant color
Magnificent, deep, beautiful
Baltic Sea nights.
(vi)
Nothing compares to
The majesty of nature
Unadult’rated
Friends: This world really is a beautiful place…and even the world around us will show its beauty when we open our eyes to see.
When is the last time that something captured your spirit and took your breath away? What was it? Please share. I’d love to hear.
Showing posts with label Scandinavian Adventure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scandinavian Adventure. Show all posts
Thursday, February 13, 2020
Thursday, January 5, 2017
Possibilities Bigger Than Self
I think my aunt might have thought it a bit odd that when given a choice to see composer Edvard Grieg’s music studio or gravesite, I immediately chose the gravesite. Yes, I would have liked to have seen the small cabin where Grieg sat on a manuscript of Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony so that he would be tall enough to reach the piano keys, but I knew that I had hundreds of students who wouldn’t care where Grieg sat to compose—they would care about how Grieg died and where he was buried. It never fails. My students always want to know how someone died and where he/she is buried. And so I went to Grieg’s gravesite (which incidentally is carved into the side of a mountain) and took an absurd amount of pictures. Sure enough, my students loved them!
You may not be surprised to know, then, that when doing our music textbook lessons that focus on Martin Luther King, Jr., my students always want to know if Martin Luther King, Jr. is dead, how he died, who killed him, and/or where he is buried. The questions have become so predictable that I work their answers into my lessons and am fully prepared to project an image of MLK, Jr.’s and Coretta Scott King’s gravestone when asked. What I didn’t expect this year, though, was a question about how Martin Luther King, Sr. died.
[“Why were you talking about Martin Luther King, Sr.?” you might ask. “Because in another unexpected question twist, a student asked why we always say junior when talking about MLK, Jr.” Therein started a discussion on names that captivated the class so much that no attempt at redirecting to music worked. I finally gave up and spent the rest of the class period answering questions about naming protocol and listening to name stories.]
It turns out that Martin Luther King, Sr. died from a heart attack. He actually lived longer than both of his sons and his wife. While it is common knowledge that MLK, Jr. was assassinated, it is less common knowledge that Alfred Daniel Williams King (King Sr.’s youngest son) tragically drowned, and that King Sr.’s wife, Alberta W. King, was even more tragically murdered. Just after playing a song on the organ during a morning worship service, Alberta King was shot by a gunman who had dropped out of college and declared all Christians the enemy. He walked into Ebenezer Church that day to kill King, Sr., but instead he killed King’s wife and a church deacon. I didn’t tell my students these details. I was a bit too sad after reading their truths. I simply told them that MLK, Jr.’s dad had a heart attack. If he hadn’t lived at least ten years after his wife’s murder, then I would have made an argument that he died solely of a broken heart.
After dinner tonight, I spent over an hour reading more about MLK, Sr. (who indeed changed his name from Michael Luther to Martin Luther to be connected to theologian Martin Luther), Alfred King, and Alberta King. I eventually stumbled upon the King Institute of Stanford University’s website (https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/) and read letters that MLK, Jr. had written to his parents, letters of recommendation for MLK, Jr. to attend seminary, and some of MLK, Jr.’s lesser known writings. I had to make myself stop reading so that I’d have time to write this post.
Friends, I know that MLK, Jr. was not a perfect man. I know that he was not the only voice or face of the Civil Rights Movement and I know that he himself believed this much. But learning more about him and his family tonight has allowed me to paint a more complete picture of a man and a movement whose voice still speak prophetic and challenging words today.
Sometimes I feel like the writer of Ecclesiastes and find myself in hopeless despair that nothing under the sun has changed. Reading the news articles of Alberta King’s brutal murder was like reading the news articles of today. The man who killed her even told a friend that his name would be all over the newspapers in a couple of weeks. And the senseless beatings of innocent men and women are still taking place. I watched the news in horror tonight as a reporter told of an 18-year-old special needs student who had been kidnapped and terrorized by four of his peers and was now having trouble communicating. The mocking and physical abuse had been streamed on Facebook.
And yet I smiled as I watched my Kindergarten students happily sing and dance together today. They couldn’t care less that their skin colors were different and they had no trouble welcoming everyone into their impromptu circle of happiness. And I inwardly said a prayer of thanks as I hugged my little multi-cultural band of students who come to say good morning each day. And I felt so grateful to be part of one of MLK, Jr.’s greatest wishes…
At the end of his famous “I Have A Dream” speech, MLK boldly declares, “…until one day, when all of God’s children, black men and white, will join hands in singing the old African American Spiritual ‘Free at last, Free at last, Thank God almighty I’m free at last.’”
“Free At Last” is one of my students’ favorite songs. Not only are they fascinated by the fact that Martin Luther King, Jr. had its words put on his gravestone, but they also really like the song and loudly sing it whenever it is played. Younger, older, richer, poorer, black, white, brown, yellow, or red (as a student actually called himself yesterday)—my students beautifully live MLK, Jr.’s dream every time they sing together.
And you know what? It wasn’t just MLK, Jr.’s dream. It was his father’s, and his mother’s, and his brother’s, and his sister’s. Because MLK, Jr. wasn’t an isolated man. He was part of a family. He was part of a church. He was part of a community. He was part of possibilities so much bigger than himself. And you are, too, friend. You are, too.
You may not be surprised to know, then, that when doing our music textbook lessons that focus on Martin Luther King, Jr., my students always want to know if Martin Luther King, Jr. is dead, how he died, who killed him, and/or where he is buried. The questions have become so predictable that I work their answers into my lessons and am fully prepared to project an image of MLK, Jr.’s and Coretta Scott King’s gravestone when asked. What I didn’t expect this year, though, was a question about how Martin Luther King, Sr. died.
[“Why were you talking about Martin Luther King, Sr.?” you might ask. “Because in another unexpected question twist, a student asked why we always say junior when talking about MLK, Jr.” Therein started a discussion on names that captivated the class so much that no attempt at redirecting to music worked. I finally gave up and spent the rest of the class period answering questions about naming protocol and listening to name stories.]
It turns out that Martin Luther King, Sr. died from a heart attack. He actually lived longer than both of his sons and his wife. While it is common knowledge that MLK, Jr. was assassinated, it is less common knowledge that Alfred Daniel Williams King (King Sr.’s youngest son) tragically drowned, and that King Sr.’s wife, Alberta W. King, was even more tragically murdered. Just after playing a song on the organ during a morning worship service, Alberta King was shot by a gunman who had dropped out of college and declared all Christians the enemy. He walked into Ebenezer Church that day to kill King, Sr., but instead he killed King’s wife and a church deacon. I didn’t tell my students these details. I was a bit too sad after reading their truths. I simply told them that MLK, Jr.’s dad had a heart attack. If he hadn’t lived at least ten years after his wife’s murder, then I would have made an argument that he died solely of a broken heart.
After dinner tonight, I spent over an hour reading more about MLK, Sr. (who indeed changed his name from Michael Luther to Martin Luther to be connected to theologian Martin Luther), Alfred King, and Alberta King. I eventually stumbled upon the King Institute of Stanford University’s website (https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/) and read letters that MLK, Jr. had written to his parents, letters of recommendation for MLK, Jr. to attend seminary, and some of MLK, Jr.’s lesser known writings. I had to make myself stop reading so that I’d have time to write this post.
Friends, I know that MLK, Jr. was not a perfect man. I know that he was not the only voice or face of the Civil Rights Movement and I know that he himself believed this much. But learning more about him and his family tonight has allowed me to paint a more complete picture of a man and a movement whose voice still speak prophetic and challenging words today.
Sometimes I feel like the writer of Ecclesiastes and find myself in hopeless despair that nothing under the sun has changed. Reading the news articles of Alberta King’s brutal murder was like reading the news articles of today. The man who killed her even told a friend that his name would be all over the newspapers in a couple of weeks. And the senseless beatings of innocent men and women are still taking place. I watched the news in horror tonight as a reporter told of an 18-year-old special needs student who had been kidnapped and terrorized by four of his peers and was now having trouble communicating. The mocking and physical abuse had been streamed on Facebook.
And yet I smiled as I watched my Kindergarten students happily sing and dance together today. They couldn’t care less that their skin colors were different and they had no trouble welcoming everyone into their impromptu circle of happiness. And I inwardly said a prayer of thanks as I hugged my little multi-cultural band of students who come to say good morning each day. And I felt so grateful to be part of one of MLK, Jr.’s greatest wishes…
At the end of his famous “I Have A Dream” speech, MLK boldly declares, “…until one day, when all of God’s children, black men and white, will join hands in singing the old African American Spiritual ‘Free at last, Free at last, Thank God almighty I’m free at last.’”
“Free At Last” is one of my students’ favorite songs. Not only are they fascinated by the fact that Martin Luther King, Jr. had its words put on his gravestone, but they also really like the song and loudly sing it whenever it is played. Younger, older, richer, poorer, black, white, brown, yellow, or red (as a student actually called himself yesterday)—my students beautifully live MLK, Jr.’s dream every time they sing together.
And you know what? It wasn’t just MLK, Jr.’s dream. It was his father’s, and his mother’s, and his brother’s, and his sister’s. Because MLK, Jr. wasn’t an isolated man. He was part of a family. He was part of a church. He was part of a community. He was part of possibilities so much bigger than himself. And you are, too, friend. You are, too.
Monday, August 22, 2016
Estonia and Poland--Haikus from The Trip
***I may have lost mostly of my photos from my Scandinavian Adventure—the verdict is still out—but thankfully my notes and poems were backed up in that mysterious cloud of invisible information—and some of those notes included a few pictures! As seen in my middle of the night revelation that has resulted in my enrolling in graduate school (see last Thursday’s note), even though I was very far away from real life, my brain continued to think and my heart continued to feel deeply about things having nothing to do with the trip. Some of those “feels” (as a good friend would say) are seen here.***
Friday, 7.22.16, Tallin, Estonia
Today's my birthday
I am in a foreign place
This is rather neat
Professor Umbridge
She clears her throat like Umbridge
God grant me patience
If he wants to try
Let him try. Challenged is not
Incapable. At all.
Large Crowds of people
Pouring through the doors. Tourists.
If only worship.
7.23.16, Sea Day Poems
The day is lazy
A much needed day of rest
Vacation is hard
I want to be more
Than a negative mem'ry
There was so much more
I often wonder
Are the trails I leave behind
Lasting or fading
7.24.16, Gdansk, Poland
Morning bells ringing
Chiming the hour with bright song
Tickling the senses
Sometimes holding on
Suffocates pathways of breath.
Inhale. Let go. Breathe.
I’ve made huge mistakes
Turned left on a one way street
Yet some things were right
Friday, 7.22.16, Tallin, Estonia
Today's my birthday
I am in a foreign place
This is rather neat
Professor Umbridge
She clears her throat like Umbridge
God grant me patience
If he wants to try
Let him try. Challenged is not
Incapable. At all.
Large Crowds of people
Pouring through the doors. Tourists.
If only worship.
7.23.16, Sea Day Poems
The day is lazy
A much needed day of rest
Vacation is hard
I want to be more
Than a negative mem'ry
There was so much more
I often wonder
Are the trails I leave behind
Lasting or fading
7.24.16, Gdansk, Poland
Morning bells ringing
Chiming the hour with bright song
Tickling the senses
Sometimes holding on
Suffocates pathways of breath.
Inhale. Let go. Breathe.
I’ve made huge mistakes
Turned left on a one way street
Yet some things were right
Thursday, August 18, 2016
A 3AM Conversation That Changed My Life (With Haikus)
It took me most of the trip to get used to the time difference. With the exception of the two days that we were in St. Petersburg, we were six hours ahead of home; in St. Petersburg, we were seven. When I was getting up, everyone here was either in bed or getting ready for bed. When I was going to bed, everyone here was preparing for supper or enjoying a late afternoon storm. When I was touring the world, everyone here was exploring dream land or beginning to explore what the workforce would present him/her with for the day.
I suppose it’s no wonder, then, that I had a fully functioning conversation with one of my friends on July 20th at 3:00 in the morning.
I’m not exactly sure what caused me to wake up at 3am—I suppose it was the sound of the text coming through—but I had indeed been asleep but was at that moment awake, my body clock sensing 9pm. I will admit: sometimes a text will awaken me and I will do my best to carry on a text conversation, but it will come out completely incoherent because, well, I’m asleep. For instance, I fell asleep yesterday afternoon and awoke when I heard a ding accompanied with this question: “How was your TOY interview? How do you feel?” I responded: “I don’t know that I’ll win becussd of my luck is school Invigorating but I was myself and the osslicsyiom too. J fix my best.”
So there I was, lying in my bed en route to Russia, fully awake but not in the mental space to have been premeditating thought, having the following conversation as a continuation of a previous talk about her going to graduate school:
Friend: I’m considering an online program so I can do it in my home and not in an intimidating classroom.
Me: I’ve been secretly thinking about going back…I’ve not talked about it at all.
Friend: For what?
Me: School administration.
Friend: I thought so. You’re terrific at public speaking. You could totally lead faculty meetings.
Me: Well thank you.
*We then wandered off topic for about ten minutes, but I was feverishly counting syllables and write the following haikus*
Crazy idea
In the middle of the night
Falling into place
It’s making sense now
The diverse path I have trod
A call coming clear
Racing heart running fast
To the edge of excitement
It is time to leap
A profound moment
Or is this a vivid dream
Only time will tell
Everything that’s me
Has been leading to this time
I think I’m ready
Keeping the haikus to myself, I came back around to the conversation by saying this: I will be contacting Campbell when I get home. It’s probably too late to start in the Fall. But I think I am heading back to school, friend. It’s as if some pieces of my life just shifted into place. At 3am. Thank you.
Then my friend inserted clapping hands and the emoji for a-okay, and I fell asleep.
I didn’t mention this experience until a week after returning from my trip (which was over two weeks after the above conversation occurred). Unlike the text that I found on my phone yesterday when I woke up from my nap, I remembered the conversation vividly—yet my conscious self filled my subconscious self with all kinds of doubts to refute the certainty of that night. I secretly researched the program and contacted Campbell and found out what I needed to do to enroll in classes. I talked myself out of it. I talked myself back into it. I felt good about the things I might learn in class; I really do like administrative things. I felt really weird to think about having the title principal attached to my name; it still feels weird and I’m not even sure it’s what will happen. I imagined myself failing. I imagined myself succeeding. But what I couldn’t imagine was going through this semester without being in class one night per week—which is somewhat insane considering that a lot of things are going to be very different and unknown at both school and church with changes in staff and personnel.
My acceptance letter into the School of Education at Campbell University was mailed today. As soon as I settle upon a class, I will be enrolled in the Master of School Administration program. My top spiritual gift is administration. I guess it’s time to do something with that little known fact that made its voice clear at 3am in the middle of the Baltic Sea, on a vacation that truly changed my life.
I suppose it’s no wonder, then, that I had a fully functioning conversation with one of my friends on July 20th at 3:00 in the morning.
I’m not exactly sure what caused me to wake up at 3am—I suppose it was the sound of the text coming through—but I had indeed been asleep but was at that moment awake, my body clock sensing 9pm. I will admit: sometimes a text will awaken me and I will do my best to carry on a text conversation, but it will come out completely incoherent because, well, I’m asleep. For instance, I fell asleep yesterday afternoon and awoke when I heard a ding accompanied with this question: “How was your TOY interview? How do you feel?” I responded: “I don’t know that I’ll win becussd of my luck is school Invigorating but I was myself and the osslicsyiom too. J fix my best.”
So there I was, lying in my bed en route to Russia, fully awake but not in the mental space to have been premeditating thought, having the following conversation as a continuation of a previous talk about her going to graduate school:
Friend: I’m considering an online program so I can do it in my home and not in an intimidating classroom.
Me: I’ve been secretly thinking about going back…I’ve not talked about it at all.
Friend: For what?
Me: School administration.
Friend: I thought so. You’re terrific at public speaking. You could totally lead faculty meetings.
Me: Well thank you.
*We then wandered off topic for about ten minutes, but I was feverishly counting syllables and write the following haikus*
Crazy idea
In the middle of the night
Falling into place
It’s making sense now
The diverse path I have trod
A call coming clear
Racing heart running fast
To the edge of excitement
It is time to leap
A profound moment
Or is this a vivid dream
Only time will tell
Everything that’s me
Has been leading to this time
I think I’m ready
Keeping the haikus to myself, I came back around to the conversation by saying this: I will be contacting Campbell when I get home. It’s probably too late to start in the Fall. But I think I am heading back to school, friend. It’s as if some pieces of my life just shifted into place. At 3am. Thank you.
Then my friend inserted clapping hands and the emoji for a-okay, and I fell asleep.
I didn’t mention this experience until a week after returning from my trip (which was over two weeks after the above conversation occurred). Unlike the text that I found on my phone yesterday when I woke up from my nap, I remembered the conversation vividly—yet my conscious self filled my subconscious self with all kinds of doubts to refute the certainty of that night. I secretly researched the program and contacted Campbell and found out what I needed to do to enroll in classes. I talked myself out of it. I talked myself back into it. I felt good about the things I might learn in class; I really do like administrative things. I felt really weird to think about having the title principal attached to my name; it still feels weird and I’m not even sure it’s what will happen. I imagined myself failing. I imagined myself succeeding. But what I couldn’t imagine was going through this semester without being in class one night per week—which is somewhat insane considering that a lot of things are going to be very different and unknown at both school and church with changes in staff and personnel.
My acceptance letter into the School of Education at Campbell University was mailed today. As soon as I settle upon a class, I will be enrolled in the Master of School Administration program. My top spiritual gift is administration. I guess it’s time to do something with that little known fact that made its voice clear at 3am in the middle of the Baltic Sea, on a vacation that truly changed my life.
Monday, August 15, 2016
Icelandic Haikus
***I wrote a lot of haikus while on my Scandinavian Adventure. I seem currently to be treading in the middle of haiku sea. Sometimes I was inspired by what I saw, sometimes by something someone said, sometimes something that happened, sometimes because my mind is just always turning. The following haikus are from Iceland.***
7.14.16—En route to Iceland
Tiny little dot
Moving fast across the sea
Adventure begins
7.15.16—Iceland Day One (Thingvellir National Park, The Geysirs, Gullfoss Waterfall)
This raging water
May be the most beautiful
I have ever seen
Rich diversity
I am beyond overwhelmed
And simply amazed
Volcano erupt
Mold and decorate the land
Green moss, brown boulders
Little grazing sheep
Roam where you may, all over
Just come when I call
Don’t punish the slaves
Swedish law arrests the “Johns”
We should do the same
We need the church. It’s
Not community, rites. It’s
The Body of Christ.
7.16.16—Iceland Day Two (Reykjavik City Tour, Hallgrims Church, The Blue Lagoon)
I know one language
Right now I feel ignorant
Dumb American
It’s a big small world
People everywhere the same
Yet very diff’rent
Middle of nowhere
Floating salty blue lagoon
Happy accident
Very thorough guide
Thank you for information
Communication’s key
Put me on a bus
If I ever need to rest
Natural sleep aid
Words are our weapons
Our people don’t carry guns
These are our heroes
Modesty? No need.
We are all women here. Still,
Where is my towel?
I was fast asleep
I did not mean to hit you
Forgive me, oh please?
Time to go to bed
Morning will come in three hours
It’s quite light outside
(So what)
For the large organ
For the large bells and steeple
For lines of tourists
(No wonder)
Jesus turned tables
People think the church is dead
Few attempt to come
(Church is)
Alive in people
Thriving when God’s Spirit moves
More than large buildings
7.14.16—En route to Iceland
Tiny little dot
Moving fast across the sea
Adventure begins
7.15.16—Iceland Day One (Thingvellir National Park, The Geysirs, Gullfoss Waterfall)
This raging water
May be the most beautiful
I have ever seen
Rich diversity
I am beyond overwhelmed
And simply amazed
Volcano erupt
Mold and decorate the land
Green moss, brown boulders
Little grazing sheep
Roam where you may, all over
Just come when I call
Don’t punish the slaves
Swedish law arrests the “Johns”
We should do the same
We need the church. It’s
Not community, rites. It’s
The Body of Christ.
7.16.16—Iceland Day Two (Reykjavik City Tour, Hallgrims Church, The Blue Lagoon)
I know one language
Right now I feel ignorant
Dumb American
It’s a big small world
People everywhere the same
Yet very diff’rent
Middle of nowhere
Floating salty blue lagoon
Happy accident
Very thorough guide
Thank you for information
Communication’s key
Put me on a bus
If I ever need to rest
Natural sleep aid
Words are our weapons
Our people don’t carry guns
These are our heroes
Modesty? No need.
We are all women here. Still,
Where is my towel?
I was fast asleep
I did not mean to hit you
Forgive me, oh please?
Time to go to bed
Morning will come in three hours
It’s quite light outside
(So what)
For the large organ
For the large bells and steeple
For lines of tourists
(No wonder)
Jesus turned tables
People think the church is dead
Few attempt to come
(Church is)
Alive in people
Thriving when God’s Spirit moves
More than large buildings
Poetic Thoughts from Sweden, Finland, and Russia
***You never know what will inspire a haiku (or some other type of short poem). A beautiful landscape. Sunset. Building. A rude person. A rich person. A beautiful person. An unreadable sign and language. Inspiration is all around us. Just look for people counting syllables on their fingers. They are probably using following inspiration onto the haiku sea.***
7.17.16—From Iceland to Sweden
No need to jump line
Didn’t learn in primary
Skipping is not nice
We are so wasteful
Consuming, devouring. More.
It is sickening
This is new to me
I have no traveled the world
This really is privilege
Don’t take for granted
Movie in my hand
Move on my screen
I think I will go to sleep
Underground exits
Not just in video games
Curves and lights exist
7.18.16—Stockholm, Sweden, and the Boat
Diverse people. Real.
Diff’rent lives, different views.
One voice. One God. Strength.
In darkness.
You are there, God.
In brilliant color.
You are beautiful, God.
Let me blow you a kiss.
7.19.16—Helsinki and Porvoo, Finland, and the Boat
History is important
Not everything new is good
Be careful moving forward
Underneath riches
Everything is not okay
You are human too
Stripped naked. Stripped bare.
No honors. No awards. No
Make-up, titles, labels. No
Pretense. Just human.
Late, brilliant color
Magnificent, deep, beauty
Baltic Sea nights
Do not try so hard
Who are you when you are “off”
Do you even know?
Out on these blue seas
I hope you find yourself here
Peace is yours to take
7.20.16—St. Petersburg, Russia
Wide open spaces
Room to grow happiness
The landscape looks sad
Is this how you feel?
Seeing but not seeing words.
I will help you read.
7.17.16—From Iceland to Sweden
No need to jump line
Didn’t learn in primary
Skipping is not nice
We are so wasteful
Consuming, devouring. More.
It is sickening
This is new to me
I have no traveled the world
This really is privilege
Don’t take for granted
Movie in my hand
Move on my screen
I think I will go to sleep
Underground exits
Not just in video games
Curves and lights exist
7.18.16—Stockholm, Sweden, and the Boat
Diverse people. Real.
Diff’rent lives, different views.
One voice. One God. Strength.
In darkness.
You are there, God.
In brilliant color.
You are beautiful, God.
Let me blow you a kiss.
7.19.16—Helsinki and Porvoo, Finland, and the Boat
History is important
Not everything new is good
Be careful moving forward
Underneath riches
Everything is not okay
You are human too
Stripped naked. Stripped bare.
No honors. No awards. No
Make-up, titles, labels. No
Pretense. Just human.
Late, brilliant color
Magnificent, deep, beauty
Baltic Sea nights
Do not try so hard
Who are you when you are “off”
Do you even know?
Out on these blue seas
I hope you find yourself here
Peace is yours to take
7.20.16—St. Petersburg, Russia
Wide open spaces
Room to grow happiness
The landscape looks sad
Is this how you feel?
Seeing but not seeing words.
I will help you read.
Monday, August 8, 2016
One Orange Croc in Front of the Other
When I was in Jacksonville in June for Operation Surprise G-mama, my aunt June Gail (now otherwise known as the Fred who took me to Europe in July) took me to buy new shoes. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have concerned myself with buying new shoes. I have a lot of shoes in my closet and most of them are in decent shape. But on this day, I actually did need new shoes: I needed a new pair of waterproof shoes because I had worn out every other pair that I had. My pink Keens have a noticeably broken side, my brown Crocs with the cute Jibbetz have no traction, my orange and yellow Croc flip flops have no traction, and my waterproof Birkenstocks are no longer wearable because the glue holding the shoe together has come lose. So, alas, I really did need a new pair of waterproof shoes.
The store that we went to didn’t have the shoes that JG took me specifically to buy and it didn’t have a pair of Keens like the pink ones that I have worn to the point of fashionable death, but it did have Crocs. So I bought a pair of orange Crocs, and I have since worn those Crocs to Europe and back.
As I write this note today, I am looking at the Atlantic Ocean from the East Coast of America. I am with a group of kids and adults from a church that I’ve been working with for one week every summer for the past decade. For nine years, we met at a lovely retreat center in the mountains of North Carolina, yet this year we have come together at the coast. This week always serves as a marker for me—a definite point of keeping time—a clear unit of tracing where life has taken me in the year since the group and I last met.
To say that a lot has happened since last year’s camp is an understatement. I completed another year of school, taught the best of my life, was named Teacher of the Year, but then had to say goodbye to most of my friends as they packed up their rooms at JES and went somewhere else. I learned new and meaningful music with the choir and praise team, planned moving worship services, began dreaming for the future of Antioch, but then had to say goodbye to my pastor as he packed up his family to move back to Texas. I surprised my grandmother for her birthday, went to a beautiful lake in NC for family vacation, helped run another successful Nana camp, and then had the opportunity to travel across the Atlantic Ocean and see it from the other side.
For someone who loves words, the words are not coming to express everything that I am feeling today.
As I walked on the beach a bit earlier, looking for sea glass, I caught myself rehearsing what I should write today. I came up with a plethora of different beginnings —some poignant, some cute—and topics—the importance of community for shared memory, a story shared in worship last night—but I couldn’t land on one, definite thing. Then I looked at my feet—the same feet that had worn those orange Crocs that I could see shining ahead in the sand—and I heard a very clear voice say, “Stop trying to figure everything out, Deanna. Just be present right here, right now, in this moment, on the beach. Feel the sand on your feet. Listen to the waves crash. Hear the children’s laughter. Watch the selfless dedication of chaperones. Life is happening right here. Not just in the awe-inspiring memories of your summer or in the anxiety-inspiring thoughts of the new year. Your note will come. Sharing your stories will come. Future days will come. But right now, just be here with me.”
When I got my orange Crocs at the beginning of the summer, I had no idea where they would take me. I had a vague notion of what it would mean to travel the world and I knew the itineraries of family vacation, the Scandinavian Adventure, and this camp, but I had no idea that at the end of it all, the foundation of my world would have expanded and that my life would be changed in ways I cannot yet express. All I knew was that I needed new waterproof shoes.
Maybe all we need to know is how to put one foot in front of the other—barefoot, dry-shoed, or bright-orange-waterproof shoed—and stay present in the moment, trusting that God will guide us to the next moment, on this side of the Atlantic or beyond.
I am overwhelmed
With gratitude. My humble
Heart sings thanks and praise.
Amen.
The store that we went to didn’t have the shoes that JG took me specifically to buy and it didn’t have a pair of Keens like the pink ones that I have worn to the point of fashionable death, but it did have Crocs. So I bought a pair of orange Crocs, and I have since worn those Crocs to Europe and back.
As I write this note today, I am looking at the Atlantic Ocean from the East Coast of America. I am with a group of kids and adults from a church that I’ve been working with for one week every summer for the past decade. For nine years, we met at a lovely retreat center in the mountains of North Carolina, yet this year we have come together at the coast. This week always serves as a marker for me—a definite point of keeping time—a clear unit of tracing where life has taken me in the year since the group and I last met.
To say that a lot has happened since last year’s camp is an understatement. I completed another year of school, taught the best of my life, was named Teacher of the Year, but then had to say goodbye to most of my friends as they packed up their rooms at JES and went somewhere else. I learned new and meaningful music with the choir and praise team, planned moving worship services, began dreaming for the future of Antioch, but then had to say goodbye to my pastor as he packed up his family to move back to Texas. I surprised my grandmother for her birthday, went to a beautiful lake in NC for family vacation, helped run another successful Nana camp, and then had the opportunity to travel across the Atlantic Ocean and see it from the other side.
For someone who loves words, the words are not coming to express everything that I am feeling today.
As I walked on the beach a bit earlier, looking for sea glass, I caught myself rehearsing what I should write today. I came up with a plethora of different beginnings —some poignant, some cute—and topics—the importance of community for shared memory, a story shared in worship last night—but I couldn’t land on one, definite thing. Then I looked at my feet—the same feet that had worn those orange Crocs that I could see shining ahead in the sand—and I heard a very clear voice say, “Stop trying to figure everything out, Deanna. Just be present right here, right now, in this moment, on the beach. Feel the sand on your feet. Listen to the waves crash. Hear the children’s laughter. Watch the selfless dedication of chaperones. Life is happening right here. Not just in the awe-inspiring memories of your summer or in the anxiety-inspiring thoughts of the new year. Your note will come. Sharing your stories will come. Future days will come. But right now, just be here with me.”
When I got my orange Crocs at the beginning of the summer, I had no idea where they would take me. I had a vague notion of what it would mean to travel the world and I knew the itineraries of family vacation, the Scandinavian Adventure, and this camp, but I had no idea that at the end of it all, the foundation of my world would have expanded and that my life would be changed in ways I cannot yet express. All I knew was that I needed new waterproof shoes.
Maybe all we need to know is how to put one foot in front of the other—barefoot, dry-shoed, or bright-orange-waterproof shoed—and stay present in the moment, trusting that God will guide us to the next moment, on this side of the Atlantic or beyond.
I am overwhelmed
With gratitude. My humble
Heart sings thanks and praise.
Amen.
Monday, July 11, 2016
Stanley Sends Fred to Europe
Well, folks. A big decision was made today. After traveling with me around the States and to Jamaica and the Bahamas, Stanley has decided that he will not be traveling with me to Europe. He feels like he needs to stay home to oversee my parents as they oversee the workers who are building my dad a home office. This evening, as they overlooked the building site, Stanley and little brother Fred discussed the trip, and Stanley gave Fred the wings he needs to fly. That’s right, everyone: Fred is going to Europe.
Some of you may be thinking, “Dee, I didn’t even know you were going to Europe.” I know. It’s hard to believe. But I am going to Europe. I leave Wednesday. I am both excited and nervous. And I haven’t yet started to pack.
Two years ago, my aunt asked if I’d be willing to travel with her to the Scandinavian region of the world. Being the geographical dummy that I am, I didn’t know where Scandinavia was, but I happily agreed to being June Gail’s travel companion. Why not? Not many opportunities like this arise.
One year ago, my aunt asked if I’d be willing to leave a couple of days early to go to Iceland. Sure! Why not? Again, not many opportunities like this arise.
And what is this opportunity?
It’s a 15-day Viking Sea Cruise around the Baltic Sea with a three day prelude in Iceland.
My aunt, who has traveled around the world, has spent many hours studying the places that we will be going and talking with both her travel agent and representatives of Viking Cruise Lines. Together, we spent an entire Saturday planning our excursions, and we have a jam-packed itinerary. I am fully prepared to be exhausted upon my return—and maybe during the trip—but I’m also prepared to do everything I can to experience as much as I can. Because, well, not many opportunities like this arise.
I’m nervous about getting motion sick. I’m nervous about eating something that makes me sick on my stomach. Okay. I’m nervous about getting any kind of sick. I’m nervous about missing a flight or missing the boat. I’m nervous about losing important documents. I’m nervous about being so far away from friends and family. I’m concerned about the divisions in this country. But. I think I may be more excited to see more of the world.
And what of the world will I see? You might want to pull up a map for this :
Reykjavick, Iceland: Thingvellir National Park, Geysir Hot Springs and included lunch, Gullfoss Waterfall, Kerid Crater, Blue Lagoon
Stockholm, Sweden: Meet The Royal Swedish Opera, Stockholm City Tour
Helsinki, Finland: Tour of Helsinki, Porvoo and Haikko Manor
St. Petersburg, Russia: Catherine Palace and Gardens, Panoramic city tour, Church of our Savior on Spilled Blood, St. Petersburg Ballet, Hermitage Museum, Peterhof, Hydrofoil across Gulf of Finland
Tallin, Estonia: Old Town Tallin and Manor Houses
Gdansk, Poland: Gdansk City Tour
Berlin, Germany: Sachsenhausen and Berlin Tour
Copenhagen, Denmark: Copenhagan City Tour, Tivoli Gardens, Evening Jazz Cruise Through Copenhagen
Alborg, Denmark: Wild West Coast and Lighthouse Tour
Stavenger, Norway: Stavenger Walking Tour and Oil Museum
Flam, Norway: A Panoramic Half-Day Railway Trip and Flam and Osterbo Mountain Lodge Tour
Bergen, Norway: Fantoft Stave Church and Grieg's House and Recital
Mamers, United States: VBS 2016
The Viking Sea does include complimentary internet access, and I have upgraded my phone so that I can more easily keep in contact and post pictures of Stanley’s little brother, Fred. So…I will try to keep in touch, but…I’m going to try harder to be fully present on this trip.
Keep us in your thoughts and prayers. And believe me when I say that I know how extremely fortunate I am to have this opportunity and that I, personally, am praying that I will be able to use this trip to bless others. Somehow. In some way. Amen.
Some of you may be thinking, “Dee, I didn’t even know you were going to Europe.” I know. It’s hard to believe. But I am going to Europe. I leave Wednesday. I am both excited and nervous. And I haven’t yet started to pack.
Two years ago, my aunt asked if I’d be willing to travel with her to the Scandinavian region of the world. Being the geographical dummy that I am, I didn’t know where Scandinavia was, but I happily agreed to being June Gail’s travel companion. Why not? Not many opportunities like this arise.
One year ago, my aunt asked if I’d be willing to leave a couple of days early to go to Iceland. Sure! Why not? Again, not many opportunities like this arise.
And what is this opportunity?
It’s a 15-day Viking Sea Cruise around the Baltic Sea with a three day prelude in Iceland.
My aunt, who has traveled around the world, has spent many hours studying the places that we will be going and talking with both her travel agent and representatives of Viking Cruise Lines. Together, we spent an entire Saturday planning our excursions, and we have a jam-packed itinerary. I am fully prepared to be exhausted upon my return—and maybe during the trip—but I’m also prepared to do everything I can to experience as much as I can. Because, well, not many opportunities like this arise.
I’m nervous about getting motion sick. I’m nervous about eating something that makes me sick on my stomach. Okay. I’m nervous about getting any kind of sick. I’m nervous about missing a flight or missing the boat. I’m nervous about losing important documents. I’m nervous about being so far away from friends and family. I’m concerned about the divisions in this country. But. I think I may be more excited to see more of the world.
And what of the world will I see? You might want to pull up a map for this :
Reykjavick, Iceland: Thingvellir National Park, Geysir Hot Springs and included lunch, Gullfoss Waterfall, Kerid Crater, Blue Lagoon
Stockholm, Sweden: Meet The Royal Swedish Opera, Stockholm City Tour
Helsinki, Finland: Tour of Helsinki, Porvoo and Haikko Manor
St. Petersburg, Russia: Catherine Palace and Gardens, Panoramic city tour, Church of our Savior on Spilled Blood, St. Petersburg Ballet, Hermitage Museum, Peterhof, Hydrofoil across Gulf of Finland
Tallin, Estonia: Old Town Tallin and Manor Houses
Gdansk, Poland: Gdansk City Tour
Berlin, Germany: Sachsenhausen and Berlin Tour
Copenhagen, Denmark: Copenhagan City Tour, Tivoli Gardens, Evening Jazz Cruise Through Copenhagen
Alborg, Denmark: Wild West Coast and Lighthouse Tour
Stavenger, Norway: Stavenger Walking Tour and Oil Museum
Flam, Norway: A Panoramic Half-Day Railway Trip and Flam and Osterbo Mountain Lodge Tour
Bergen, Norway: Fantoft Stave Church and Grieg's House and Recital
Mamers, United States: VBS 2016
The Viking Sea does include complimentary internet access, and I have upgraded my phone so that I can more easily keep in contact and post pictures of Stanley’s little brother, Fred. So…I will try to keep in touch, but…I’m going to try harder to be fully present on this trip.
Keep us in your thoughts and prayers. And believe me when I say that I know how extremely fortunate I am to have this opportunity and that I, personally, am praying that I will be able to use this trip to bless others. Somehow. In some way. Amen.
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