Summer lovin'

you decked out
in rounded jewels
just to entrance
a passerby

Maying

It is Maying.  What is that?

It means that life gets full of the almost-unbearable expectation of coming into bloom and fruition--not fully opened yet, not capable of carrying the full weight of verdancy, maybe even scared to receive it, but yearning so much for it that the longing can no longer be contained in winter-worn garb.  It is Maying.  Like the weather, vacillating between coolness and warmth, even mingling the two together in the most tantalizing way.

Oh Spring, the prophet of promises fulfilled and the herald of northern nightless nights, you but arrive and nature goes into a frenzy and riot of color and sound!  You speak, and I can hardly bear it!

My newest projects

Quite "accidentally" I have gotten into porcelain painting.  It began on the spur of the moment when I entered a craft shop back in December.  There happened to be a porcelain painting course going on at that very moment, and I was searching for appropriate Christmas presents for family.  We had decided on a DIY theme, so I was going to craft something for them, and hey, why not paint some mugs....

Well, the mugs I painted for them were a hit.  I have since continued, and here are a few pictures from along the way.

first the black. pre-firing state.

the other side. pre-firing. curious fishies.

after firing and coloring you can tell it's the deep blue sea.

the surprise on the bottom.

tea-time and tools of the trade.

in the works.

The Ponderous "Below-the-Surface" of Culture

In pictures...

Coming into St. Peter after 18km hike!

Freiburg crowd at a children's acrobatics performance

Lipstick ladies taking on Baden-Baden

Morning street in Taize

Symbolic. The promise.

Heroes and Legends

Elisabeth Elliot

All of us have legends and heroes we grow up with.  There are stories of great deeds that get retold so many times they get old or commonplace. In my childhood, there is one story we had to tell over and over again every time a work team came to visit our school.

You see, our school--Nate Saint Memorial School--was named after one of the five missionaries who was speared by a hostile tribe in the jungle while trying to tell them about Jesus.  We sang the song (to the tune of Finlandia!) that the five sang before they went out on their last flight, and so told the visiting Americans the story of how the work in Ecuador got started.  It's a powerful narrative of wanting to share good news with people of a different culture and language.  And it's the story of the power of forgiveness and sacrificial love.  Two of the wives of the men who were killed went back with their children to live among the very people who killed their husbands, to learn their language, to live as they did, and to convey the ultimate message of forgiveness.

One of the wives, Margie Saint, I met on one of those tour groups who came through the school. The other, Elisabeth Elliot, I never met.  But it is her passing away this month that made me stop to think about the role models and legends I grew up with.  I mean, the very reason my family was in Ecuador was because these five men opened the doors to missionary flying in the region and my dad became an MAF pilot.  Everyone around me was there because they felt called to further the good news of Jesus Christ to people who hadn't heard. So not only did I sing about it to visitors, but my childhood in the Amazon jungle area happened because of a message so compelling it had to be shared and lived out.

Is it any wonder that with role models of sacrifice, missions and breaching cultures and languages, I would have had a "save the world" attitude?  There is something noble and deeply moving about giving your life for someone else, for a cause that will outlast you.  The strange reality is, everyday life reminds you of how small you are, and one day your realize that you're not cut out for it.  I can't save Syria from ISIS, or any other region for that matter. It is not my job to save the world.  (Sigh of relief!)

I have not become a cynic after the initial shock at my lack of superpowers.  I have rather noted a deeper strand of living that I must cling to.  In each situation, I can look for what God is doing and choose to join him.  It is a very small thing, but it is very bold.  Half the time I don't get what he's up to, and sometimes I am hard-hearted and insecure. But I think the greatest way that I can offer my life, is to actually let God lead it in both the small and the great things.   To learn to walk with him and hear him.  The joy that comes through that brings a measure of satisfaction that nothing else can.

But let me end with a thought about Elisabeth Elliot, who went on to write many books, become a sought-after speaker and a radio show host.  She was one person, who, with all her giftings, opinions and experiences, was at the disposal of a greater Love, to do as He willed in her life.

Elliot's former radio producer wrote about her show and the people who called in:

"Just as each story was different, each story was also the same. As Elisabeth so often reminded her listeners: Every situation—no matter how dark and distressing—if given to Jesus, can become your gateway to joy. It was true then and is still true today. What matters to you matters infinitely more to him."

Within that statement is good news.  Because we matter to the Eternal God, he did everything possible to bring us to him in true relationship.  He sacrificed first, loved first, gave first. Remembering that He is present in every and any situation changes how we view the mundane things and especially the difficult things.  There's a lot more that could be said, but I just wanted to say I am thankful for the heroes of my faith and of my life.  The aren't perfect by far, but they point to the One who is.

Cute Therapy

Because today was a rough day:

everyone looks good in a milk mustache

(photo pawned from the wide world of twitter)

Then and Now

Yours Truly, Nov. 2006

Yours Truly, Jan. 2015

Those orange glasses, such a risk so many years ago, have remained a steady favorite these eight years.  I still like coffee, and I have short hair again.  Oh, how much changes, and yet doesn't change!

In the enchanting archipelago

coffee moment outdoors, august 2014

A memory from the archives.  Childhood friends together in Finland.  It was a dream-come-true.

inkstains

Winter's Tale

Sightseeing fi l'Urdun (in Jordan)

 Way back in the first century when Rome ruled this region, Amman was known as Philadelphia and was one of the ten cities of the Decapolis that had economic ties to one another.  This past weekend I visited Jerash, back then Gerasa, also part of the Decapolis.  The ruins were amazingly well preserved and reconstructed, mostly first through 8^th century ruins.  It took two hours to go through amphitheaters, colonnades, temples, churches and gates.  The first thing that greets any visitor is an impressive arch built in honor of Emperor Hadrian’s visit (AD 129/30), but I think my favorite site was the floor of a Byzantine church because of its intricate mosaics.  

After climbing and ambling there, my local friend and I went to Ajloun, a city nestled nearby in a very verdant region.  There are a couple nature reserves, but we visited the medieval castle on top of the mountain.  I have to say that my impression of Jordan was significantly improved by the views from the castle!  I think I had been missing the color green!  In the photo below, a family is having their picture taken at the castle.  The man is wearing the typical headdress of Jordan and the ladies are also typically dressed.  Here the way you dress immediately says a lot about you.  It tells others your religion and the degree to which you adhere to it.  

The Roman Amphitheater

Explorer greetings from a 2nd cent. Roman Amphitheater

Musings from the archives

Piojito, piojito

Meli checking her sister Susanna for lice.

A Surprise

Do we look like a sitcom?

We made a stop on our journey to Ecuador to surprise a childhood friend!  We all grew up together in Shell: Toni, Steven, Stephanie, and Yours truly.  We had a few very special days together and look forward to where in the world we may meet up next!

Benetton

My first Shabbat here was a refreshing and enjoyable experience.  I have the weekends off, you see, beginning Friday at noon until Saturday night.

So Friday I met my sister and her roommate Nati, at the shuk (suk in Arabic, market in English, and tori in Finnish).  I love the shuk!  It is a place you must reserve a lot of time for, because there is no way to accomplish your shopping quickly in a place replete with people, shopping carts and vendors.  The smell of spices, fish, fruit and people join the visual medley of bright colors and people of all shapes, sizes and nationalities in a long narrow corridor lined with stalls.  On my first time there I spent a small fortune at the dried fruit stand!  On Friday we bought fish and flowers.  I'm still waiting for the occasion to buy the rubber chicken and the dragon fruit...

We shared a Shabbat meal at my sister's apartment with her roommate's friends.  There is a ceremony, performed by the matriarch of the family, in this case our hostess Nati, with the lighting of candles, the singing of a blessing and the sharing of bread and wine.   I thought the whole procedure a good way to prepare for the meal and the beginning of Shabbat.  Regardless of the fact that I don't speak Hebrew, I somehow managed to keep up with the main idea of conversations during the evening.

On Shabbat, everything is closed, even the streets.  Everyone comes out to walk with their families.  Sonja and I walked through a very orthodox neighborhood and let's just say that the fashions are not quite like those on the Helsinki streets!  I saw men in long black robe-like coats, white tights, buckle shoes, tower-like fur hats and of course, with bobbing curls at their temples.  Women and children dressed in black and white sported their nice Sabbath outfits.  The cutest sight was of two children, a boy and a girl, both racing little pink doll strollers down a hill as their parents walked nearby.

We met up with Essy and friends from Shevet to visit a German Christmas market in the Old Town, and afterward enjoyed the view and the breeze from a rooftop cafe.  What I liked most, other than being with loved ones, is the lack of hurry on Shabbat.  Nothing is open, no work is done.  You can enjoy the day and rest from what occupies you during the week.

And today begins a new week and new challenges.  We painted a huge painting today and hung it up in the kids' dining room (I'm sure the mothers love how dirty their kids got...).  I have gone through the cupboards and found wonderful toys and activity ideas.  One of my discoveries was a bright red stuffed elephant that looks like he belongs in a United Colors of Benetton commercial.  He has little black beady eyes and a unibrow that gives him a worried or sad look. He now perches on my desk along with Curious George and a couple dictionaries.  They remind me of the task at hand and whisper little inspirations. :)

Photos

Hemin and Ahmed waving for you!

(I will be adding photos to Picasa as my time here goes on. Link on the sidebar)

Also, on the wall behind them is a project one of my coworkers painted last night.  It is an excerpt from a poem by the Persian poet Hafiz:

Now, all the internal instruments are playing the same music:

"God, what love-mischief can 'we' do 

for the world today?"

Not a bad question, eh?

basking

Suomenlinna