Ending Well

So much has happened that it seems crazy to even try to explain. Let’s just say that I have had a wonderful time in Netherlands and I am sad that it is coming to an end. I have learned so much about myself and I have been doing my best to take advantage of this time of rest and exploration, but frankly I have also been having so much fun.

I have been to Köln, Germany, Christmas parties, celebrating birthdays, visiting cathedrals, and dancing with gypsies interlaced with a plethora of laughs. I have to say that all of these things have happened randomly, without provocation. Through all of this I have made some amazing friends, some

I feel I am destined to know for long time, others it may have been for this time to help me hold together my breaking heart while it healed. Although I said many tear-filled goodbyes yesterday, I am so grateful to all the gentle souls that I was able to love and who loved me. Maybe it was fate, or luck, but I have to say it was amazing.

I hope that you have as much fun in the new year as I had in the last few weeks.

Season's Greetings

12 More Shopping Days!

I found these items. If you are desperate for a gift these might do.



Biker Jesus...riding high!




Mother Mary Memory Stick

Airplane Spirituality

My friend Wes White wrote this and posted it on Open Source Theology. I just love the way he thinks.


I only just recently returned home to Glasgow, Scotland after a long three week trip to the USA that included four multiple-leg airline flights. On Monday coming, I fly once again to Amsterdam, The Netherlands only to turn around on Wednesday and fly back. So I'm learning a lot about what I now refer to as "airplane spirituality." Here's just a couple thoughts on it for your consideration. (There might even be a bit of application hidden within.)

1) Traveling on airplanes reminds us that healthy Christian spirituality is as earthy as it gets. On long overseas flights, human beings have the audacity to develop bad breath, for example. Some actually bring along brush and paste and hazard the experience of minuscule airplane toilets in order to retain some semblance of hygiene. But most simply resort to popping mints, spraying sprays, or freely engaging various other forms of cover-up. Suddenly liberality with chewing gum finds itself in vogue. But it is all an attempt to mask something that we really need not hide. Being human is earthy, and in that is glory. St. Augustine ( City of God, bk.9, ch.1) referred to it as the blessed recognition that we are "intermediate beings," finding ourselves most truly when we happily locate ourselves somewhere between the beasts and the angels. Humans who affirm their "intermediateness" are able to appreciate the baser as well as the more sublime aspects of life, and to find God in the mix of both. My friend, Rodney Clapp, puts it this way: "Christian spirituality comprehends not only the sparkle in our eyes but the grime under our fingernails." (Rodney Clapp, Tortured Wonders, 177.)

2) I am regularly amazed at the contorted bodily positions people can assume in order to seek a bit of sleep on a long flight, especially when the plane is full to capacity. Sleeping is otherwise a rather private affair where drools and snores and involuntary escapes of bodily gases are preferably protected from public attention. Not so in the cramped spaces that usually define the intimate communion of long-distance flight. Some who would generally never be seen with a hair out of place soon give in to unbelievable displays of tangles and tousles out of sheer desperation to resemble an horizontal posture. It is intimate communion indeed! After all, at the end of a long and crowded flight we have all slept together. But it reminds us that spirituality, Christian spirituality particularly, cannot be healthy if it is only a private matter. In fact, Christian spirituality proves its muster by its sociality, for we claim that all humanity derives its essence from the Trinitarian God who is socially defined. Miroslav Volf and others ( see, for example, God's Life in Trinity ) have been reminding us of late about the perichoretic nature of God's own sociality. I am more and more convinced that one of the best ways to both demonstrate and test the genuineness of the give and take of perichoresis is by attempting to sleep on airplanes, where community is voluntary to be sure, yet anything but arbitrary.

True spirituality is earthy. True spirituality is social. God, I think, is discovered and experienced in both. So don't be afraid to fly.

Remembering Connie

Two days ago would have been a friend’s 43^rd birthday and last September would have marked 19 years of friendship. Sadly my friend Connie passed away two years ago.

I always remembered her birthday because it is on the 8^th of December, the Holy Day of the Immaculate Conception of Mary (10 years of Catholic education sticks with you). We always had a chuckle at such a coincidence because believe me we were not saints! Connie was the kind of friend who loved life and laughter, she always lived full of zest and joie de vie, I guess that is why it is so hard to accept that so many of her last years shared by an entity that slowly stole her life. My dear friend Connie struggled with Hodgkin’s Disease for many years before it took her last breathe.

I could always count on her to listen and make me feel that I could call on some secret confidence. For years I watched her pull courage out of her sleeve on numerous occasions - she was one of the most self-assured people I have ever met. She never claimed to have all the answers, but she was determined to grapple with the questions until a solution materialized. When we were in our teens her passion was to be a great mother, and was not afraid to let people know even though we grew up in an environment that told us girls that we could do and be anything. She somehow knew that she was signing up for the toughest job on earth, and made no apologies when people tried to get her aspire to loftier pursuits. Connie did go on to get a degree and work with mentally handicapped adults, but that were just what she did not who she was. She loved her children with all her heart and excelled as a matriarch. Connie also valiantly faced teenage pregnancy and adoption in high school, a painful annulment and single-parenting before she began her fight against cancer.

Most of all I miss her laugh. Connie was filled with so much of it and our friend Jennifer and I loved to coax it out of her. We were known to spontaneously combust with giddiness as we constantly found ways to entertain ourselves and others. Mostly we were just three silly girls, who used our laughter to carry us through the pain and hardships of teenage misery and young adulthood. Even latter in life when you found two or three of us together there was always laughter as we remembered the great mouse burger caper, being locked in the choir closet and late night excursions after pizza night. We always talked about the serious things of life too, but all too often the eyes of children and spouses rolled as they tried to decipher a story between the peals of chuckles and tears. It kept the little women in us alive and allowed us to touch something innocent within our hearts as we faced a world that was not always kind to dreamers.

For the past two days, I have been thinking about my friend and missing her voice and smile. I was fortunate enough to speak with her about a week before she died and I can remember the conversation like it was yesterday. Her breathing was laboured but she wanted to talk and share what had conspired in our lives in the months since we seen each other last. We shared life our while expressing gratitude and love. She sounded so strong at the time recently returning home with a good prognosis; I never thought that I would not see her again.

I guess I am missing her for selfish reasons as I am in transition and she was one of those people you could just laugh with about your predicament. Today I caught myself laughing out loud as I recalled some of our stunts, right in the middle of considering some proposals for my future. I must have needed to take the edge of the stress, and like a true friend she was there in my heart, helping me to laugh at my fate and reminding me to enjoy where I am at this moment.

I miss you girlfriend.

From Delusion to Decision

I am re-reading Richard Dawkins, “The God Delusion” this week; this second go round only confirms what I felt after reading the lengthy introduction to his premise.

I am really thankful to for the professor’s honest missional tome on how this atheist views God in any form as immaterial. Unlike many theocentric writers, Dawkins was honest about his desire to convert you over to his side based upon his research and personal experience. I cannot tell you how many times I role my eyes when I pick up a book on a subject like leadership penned by a Christian compatriots who claims in his introduction that he uses Christian principles throughout the book but has no intention to sway the readers to his viewpoint. Sceptical you may say, but I tire of the subsequent use of the what I would call “Christianese” to the point that I feel like I am sitting through a sales pitch for condos in Florida while on a “free vacation.” If you want to sell me something come right out and say it, and Dawkins did.

He goes head to head with some of the more traditional tenants of apologetics and I have to say that I found myself agreeing with him more often than not. After I shared laughs with his take on what I could only see as misguided or outdated attempts to prove God is really with us, I also felt a twinge of shame. This book could another public nail in the coffin of the rational evangelical movement of Christendom that a large portion of the body is determined to resuscitate. Somehow Christianity went from a community with a purpose, to an institution, to a well guarded rationale that is deemed untouchable. Is belief so fragile that we feel the need to exempt it from testing and reshaping of our perspective? Weren’t the Bereans commended for testing the scriptures in order to get at the truth?

Many believers celebrate when science proves itself erroneous, but doesn’t that make us a bit hypocritical? After all believers endorsed crusades, slavery, the flat earth theory and much more in the name of God’s providence and gladly excommunicated, killed or silenced anyone bold enough to stand against those beliefs. Many of those traditions or schools of thought have proven false and yet there are many heels are dug firmly in the ground. Dawkins' book reminds me that we are living in a time when absolute ideas are being shattered and to speak with certainty regarding a matter of belief may be irresponsible. Faith is believing in what one cannot see or prove, so should we be so fearful of being challenged? Can’t we just say we do not know, when that is simply the case, they way that science does when she cannot find the proof for a well thought out theory?

He also addresses children, stating that until a person is of an age of critical thinking and rationale one cannot use the label Muslim, Christian, or Jewish children so easily. They can be children of Jewish parents, but in the matters of faith, they have not really chosen. I have to agree with this premise as well. Faith is not something you are born with, it is something you choose on a continual basis. It only makes sense to me that one cannot really make a choice without understanding what they are choosing to embrace and what they are letting go of. I know that it may not be possible to grasp every consequence of a decision at the time it is made, but an informed decision is made based on some sort of assessment.

Faith as I understand it is living and dynamic and should not be taken lightly nor is it for the faint-hearted. It is something other, that I am not sure I can quite explain. Even though I am making a second pass at this book, I have to say that I chose to believe, even after Mr. Dawkins’ valiant attempt to sway me otherwise. But I can say that reading his book has changed the way I believe and the way I view people who do not share those beliefs. It also affirmed my faith, yes I said affirmed, because it challenged what I accepted as truth while also giving me the words to back some things I believed to be rubbish. Even though we are still approaching life from different perspectives and disagree about some things, I did see “The God Delusion” as an invitation to re-examine faith, enter into a dialogue and an opportunity to dispense of some dead wood. It also gave me a chance to challenge my faith and decide to hold onto to it, in spite of how others might view my decisions. That is something that Dawkins’ may not have perceived, but it is the effect it had on this foolish follower.

A Night in a Pub with Friends

Upon returning to Den Haag, I walked in on the tail-end of a Christian Associates meeting filled with familiar faces. After they were done I got to exchange hugs and quick stories.

Although I was tired from my road trip, I was excited to see old friends. I could not refuse an invitation to spend time with Marty, Wes and Kevin, my 30 minute old friend. We walked to Wes’ favourite local pub to engage in some deep conversation interlaced with the sweet smell of tendered tobacco. Once we sat down we all brought out our favourite implements of relaxation – pipes for the boys and cigars for this girl.

We puffed away and got to know each other again and for the first time. Deep thoughts were shared in the form of dreams and questions while disco and 80’s music wafted through our casual atmosphere. Our words became the dance that floated on the notes of the songs as we stepped into the shallow end of the profound issues around becoming a community that is a character rich spiritually-formed kinship, steeped in a sound post-biblical theology and an intentional missional mandate. ( I am sure I have over simplified but there you have it). a conglomerate that is rich in creativity and safe for people to express their interpretation of God’s expression through their lives. Conversations like these encourage me. Talks of this nature give me the courage to make my own noise in the universe.

A Quick Glance at Brussels.

After wiping away my tears, I boarded the train headed to Brussels central. Once I arrived there I would only have very little time to look around before I had to catch the train back to Den Haag.

I made a mad dash to the Groet Marte and sampled a few chocolate shops. I wish I had more time to really do it justice, but you know that I have always had a strange relationship with chocolate, I really would not be bothered if I had to live without it (I know this is against the girl code of ethics, but I am what I am, - I prefer gummi bears). But this was Brussels, the girl mecca of chocolate, so I did partake and it was good, brief but good. I actually spent more time at a cheese shop I stumbled across with friendly owners and a delicious selection of curdled delights. My taste buds we in heaven. I bought a few things and raced back to central station just in time to catch my train.

As we pulled from the station I made a mental note that I must come back again to explore what the EU capital city has to offer. I hope that I can visit again soon.

On my way to Brussels

Sunday morning I packed my bags and joined the 13thFLOOR team at Crossroads Amsterdam for the youth service. As I walked through the foyer I was greeted by familiar faces and warm smiles. It has been a few years since I had been there and many of the “kids” I left behind were in leadership or were blossoming teens.

13thFLOOR was given the entire youth service for the day. Warren was our guide for the journey to discover “What is sacred?” In between the teachings were performances that illustrated and stretched the participants view of what can be considered sacred. I was put in the hot seat by my beloved adopted son, Warren, as part of a panel. The youth were mostly quiet during the discussion time, but the flurry of questions afterward indicated that they were challenged by what they saw and heard.

We piled (literally) into the cars and vans to meet the rest of the team who had been at Hilversum ICC for their morning service. After packing equipment and having lunch, we headed out for Brussels. Now we had a few false starts do not having a clear picture of how to get back to the roadway, a van getting stuck in the mud (the one I was riding in) and our translators wallet being locked in the church, but we eventually made it to Operation Mobilizations headquarters in Brussels near the airport.



It was only after we arrived here, that I started to realize that I might not see many of them again or for a very long time. The end of tour has always been a painful transition time for me. Saying good bye and releasing people you have loved and cared for into the unknown is paradoxical for me. I am excited to see them go off on their own and blaze their own trails, but I also want to hold them close and protect them from the trials they will have to overcome as well. It is the same way I feel when I watch nature documentaries about animal migration, you know that they all will not make it to the greener pastures strong and vigorous. But the journey has to be made nonetheless, it is in their nature. This time had the additional sting of me being released from them also to pray about and pursue what is next for me in life. I also felt like I was being set adrift and in many ways I am. Every interaction became precious no matter how frivolous the activity. I wanted to store up all the laughter, words and tears I could to use as a flotation devise until the next wave comes to rush me to shores I am destined to walk upon.



Monday morning the team did a ministry show for the staff and friends of Operation Mobilization. Warren spoke about how being in the centre of God’s will is often a place where safety is not an option. Often it is a wild ride that will leave you clinging to the very life you chose to give away. I believe that it was an eye-opening conversation for many of the people there. It especially made and impression on one young woman in particular.

She came to the base to serve and wrestle over her relationship with God. It was also a good time for her to step away from family and friends to seek out her purpose and passions. A few of us were able to share from our experiences in a way that left her feeling encouraged. In moments like these I can not help but see random encounters like these as anything less evidence of something or someone divine in the universe, because this was divine providence. I had not plan to go to Brussels until Friday evening and she had no idea that several weeks after arriving at her destination where people from a foreign country would be the source of meeting some of her deepest longings. How could we have known or planned it if we coconsciously tried to make it happen. To me this went beyond coincidence and providence.

Tuesday morning the team made it’s way to Brugge and I was taken to the train station. My heart still aches from this parting. As I entered the station, I sighed and realised I was again walking way from another season in my life that I was best left to its place in my memory. I can stand at a distance and glance back upon my times with the 13thFLOOR students, but I know I will never return there the way I entered.

Back Track…

I know it has not been a day since I wrote but it seems like weeks because so much has happened between now and then. This will be lengthy.

I think I will go back a bit further to December 1st.

Biking riding – crashing actually – in Amsterdam

After a late night of chatting after 13thFLOOR’s show in Hillversum, I finally left the cocoon of the dark room I had been hiding in and ventured out into the world to meet Adriaan Berg to catch up over cigars and beer. Since this was his first time in the city we decided to go exploring. In order to maximize his visit in the 1.5 hours we had, we took off on bikes. Now riding in Amsterdam is not as easy as it looks. There are cars, bikes, trams, buses and dogs coming at you from all directions and you have to keep track of where you are trying to go while ignoring the laughter and Dutch profanity coming from the bike savvy natives. I had much fun laughing at myself amid the sites we took in. Key takeaway from the day – Winkle by Noord Kerk (North Church) has some of the best apple tart in the city. (Thanks Esther!)

 
 
 (Beware! Swarte Piet is everywhere)

 

Creative Collaboration

About 20 of us gathered at Shauna Snow’s home for dinner and some fun conversation. After a few rousing games of Candy Land and Chutes and Ladders (I lost both) with Shea and friends, we shares a fabulous chilli dinner. It was great to catch up with some of the 13thFLOOR gang while we shared a bit of down time. At some point in the evening we were invited to continue our conversations on a wall in the Snow home. Most people immediately gravitated to the wall with Shea setting the pace, by grabbing a paint brush and diving right in. It became a melange of styles, media and laughter. Some of the contributions were whimsical while others were deliberate but they all worked together. Shea was clearly the master artists as she collaborated with many and left her prominent signature daring all of us to bring our A game as she had. Here is a small taste. (See more at http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=21358&l=f070e&id=656840835).

On The Road Again

I have so enjoyed seeing the team and spending time with them makes me realize how much I missed them. I have kuiered and laughed that my sides have hurt at times.

I accompanied the team to Belgium where they will perform for Operation Mobilization as a thank you for their assistance while the team has been in Europe. Tomorrow we will have a workday on their center then head into Brugge, for some fun. This is the first time that I have actually paused in this country and I am excited about seeing it for the first time.

The team will head back to London on Tuesday and I will head back to Den Haag. The team is hanging in the balance for their returns to South Africa as the airline carrier has been grounded for Administrative infractions. Never a dull moment on tour.

Last night was wonderful in Amsterdam. It was filled with wonderful friends and creativity! We graffitied the wall of a home – pictures will follow when I am back in Den Haag – and the range of creativity was inspiring. Just about everyone there left his or her mark in someway. Whether it was words, paint, chalk or pencil it all seemed to mesh together into something beautiful.

Well I need to run, there are others waiting for the computers.