An American Thanksgiving
This last Thursday was weird and natural at the same time. We along with many families that live in the US were celebrating Thanksgiving. Since Krista and I have taken over my parent’s house, we got to host this grand event. Ok, let me rephrase – Krista hosted the event and I stayed out of the way. We started the day (or I should say, I started the day as Krista was already up getting the turkey cooking) with the Turkey Trot 5K – a running event. (I’m pleased to announce I wasn’t last in my category or overall and even did a personal best – Krista and my sister both beat me which they should have – they’re awesome). Afterwards we all met up at IHOP for breakfast – small breakfasts because we knew what was to come. Then it was back home where Krista finished up preparations and I set the table.
The part that got a little weird was when I was carving the turkey. All of a sudden, I got the sense that this was right; that it was normal. I felt like an American again. I know that sounds weird, but living in another place for even a few years that when you come back to your home culture – you feel out of place. Everything is familiar but its not the “normal”. An example was when we knew we could go to the bank and to cash a check but couldn’t remember how to do it (in Germany, we don’t have checks). But as I was carving the turkey and anticipating the time with our family and a friend (a German friend who was experiencing her first American Thanksgiving), there was this peace and I felt just “American”.
As I talked to a long time missionary today and explained the feeling, he told me that at some point, when you live between two cultures, you find a way to live naturally in each one separately. I think I’ve just experienced that.
Alex’s Baptism
Yesterday was an exciting time for us. Alex was baptized. While it has been several years since Alex decided to put his life into God’s hands, we waited for him to be baptized when we were with our sending church before so many of our family and friends. For the week before, Alex kept saying “You’re making too big a deal of this.” And we kept reminding him that this is a once-in-a-lifetime event. It was wonderful. Seriously, I cried. (I’m going to be a basket case at his wedding).
Afterwards, we had our family and friends over for a celebration lunch (Alex’s favorite – “Root Beer Crockpot” – he has interesting names for things as this is a pork tenderloin cooked slowly in a crockpot with diet pepsi. We don’t know where the ‘root beer’ came from). He was also given one of his “rites of passage” as he received a cross necklace. He’s grown up seeing mine and his grandfather’s. Maybe now he won’t be so anxious for mine (he knows he gets it when I die – so his impatience to receive it was always a little disconcerting).
We’re extremely happy for Alex as he has just declared to the world that he is a servant of God and that he puts his trust in God. I know not all that read this will understand our excitement. If you really want to know, ask me about it.
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A Day (or Two) of Rest
I thought it was yesterday that we arrived in the US but apparently it’s been a few months (like 5 months). The months leading up to our departure were hectic with packing, preparing our apartment for subletters, trying to get projects done, etc. Since arriving we’ve been going from place to place meeting with people (there’s a lot of eating involved in that), preparing for talks and conferences, getting back to being active in our sending church – all while maintaining a regular workload of projects happening in Europe and trying to recruit more IT geeks to join us in eDOT. I blinked and it’s gone. I also realized that I’m exhausted and had not taken hardly any of my vacation time for the year.
So Krista made arrangements for us to get away for a three-day weekend. Thanks to some friends who have a cabin in the NC mountains and some grandparents who wanted some good “Alex” time, we were able to spend time cuddled up with our books and did a little hiking while admiring the changing of the leaves. It was just spectacular to see. Reminds me of a Ziggy cartoon where he’s watching a sunset and yells, “Go God, go!!”
Rest can make such a difference. I feel so much better and my mind is in better shape. Its really amazing what some time just resting can do. Maybe that’s why God tells us to set aside a day a week for “rest” (some call it Sabbath). In our hectic pace of life (which I’m sure most of you can understand) we have to intentionally figure out where our day of rest will be (Sundays don’t always work because many times that’s the best day to meet with people or we’re speaking somewhere). I talked just the other day with a new missionary and I asked her, “When is your day of rest? If you don’t have one, be intentionally about planning one into your schedule.” I figure if God, creator of the universe, took a day of rest – then maybe little ole me should do the same.
So, in your pace of life – have you figured out your day of rest? What does it look like to you?
As I entered jail
I know the title of this post probably had some of you really wondering (especially my parents) however a little bit ago I went to visit a friend who was in jail. As I entered, this car was in the parking lot (see picture which has a car with “Just Married” across the back). My first thought was “Wow, that must have been some wedding if they ended up here!!!” and my second thought was “I would love to know the full story behind why this car is here!!”
I love to hear stories. I think we all love to hear stories. That’s why TV and movies are so popular. The winner of a big song contest in Europe (EuroVision) a couple of years ago said that they reason he won was because he told a story. We all have stories to tell and we all have stories to listen to. Some stories are simple like those told by a child. Some stories are complex like those told by a politician. Some stories are true like those told by Mother Theresa. Some stories are made-up – again like a politician. Some are based on truth but parts are embellished to enhance it like the folktales of our ancestors (who really was “Little Red Riding Hood” seriously?) While others are pieces of fiction but are so lifelike, you wonder if the story really isn’t true. Sometimes a story is inside another story (kinda like the “dream within another dream” in the movie Inception).
Tell me – what’s your story? (Leave a comment below or email me) Now, when have you asked somebody else what their story is?
Sidenote: Ok – a little jail humor: A young guy gets locked up in prison sentenced for life. After the lights are turned off, guys in the cell block start yelling out numbers. “23!!!” and then everyone starts laughing. “102!!!!” and more laughing. The next morning, the young guy goes up to one of the old timers and asks, “Why were people shouting numbers and then everyone started laughing?” The old timer responded, “Well, we’ve been locked up here so long that we found ourselves telling the same jokes over and over again so instead of telling them, we just gave each one a number and now we just yell out the number and we all know the joke.” So that night as the lights are turned out, the young guy starts hearing the numbers chimed out. “88!!!” and people respond with a snicker. “45!!!” and roars of laughter filled the cell block. Finally, the young fellow decided to blurt out “34!!!” but no one laughed. The next morning, the newbie asked the old timer, “What is joke ’34′? Why didn’t anybody laugh?”. To which the old timer answered, “It wasn’t the joke, its just that some people can tell a joke and others can’t.”