Flip. Flip. Flip. Through the photos of this summer and I wonder how I stopped blogging. Each picture is a story of a person, a place, an event that captured my heart, defined something about this God and how He uniquely interacts and journeys with each and every one of us. Who can NOT write that story? Continue reading
It wrapped its arms around my head and pulled as the revolving door spit me into its dim realm. As the days and years passed, the not unpleasant but pungently earthy smell would become a reminder that I had left the sphere of one world and entered an inner sanctum; a sub-world, if you will, where people carried their burdens in speeding bullets of dark passages. The Moscow metro. Fresh air became redefined and distributed with the whoosh of 150 kilometer per hour measurements and the multiplication of bodies sharing a tiny compartment.
I wonder how to express this moment that bares down on me like an IC train in full motion. All of my senses are engaged. This Europe is in my head, my ears, it covers and invades my body redefining what I wear this morning, what I eat tonight, and how I view my world.
This Europe interprets the never-changing God in different tones and nuances of historical perspective and propels my faith into new directions.
Today we sent all 4 girls to volleyball camp right down the street. Some comments that made me chuckle:
Do you speak European?
Hungary? Never heard of it!
Do you have electricity there?
We may need to think about adding Geography back into the school curriculum.
Tune in tomorrow for a new post – got one brewing.