humans and their necks

“For some, war leaves no choice; for others it makes choosing a must. A small gesture can yield irreversible consequences. It can either save a life or ruin it. (A quote from the Schindler museum)

Barbed wire fence from Schindler's factory

‘saying you don’t come back from the cemetery’

I am angry in Krakow. Always. Angrier than a Christian should be. Angry like I could punch someone. Ball up my weak little fist and throw it into somebody’s gut. Is that righteous anger? I don’t know. But I peer through a grimy little window in a wall somewhere in Schindler’s Factory at photos of men hanging by their necks. Continue reading

cheating death

Paul Restaurant

Restaurant. Airport.

Fear.

The kind that grips you by the throat and squeezes until your chest breaks open just to see you squirm. The kind that steals the bliss of sleep, the joy of laughter, the promise of life, the adventure from the journey. I know that fear. He has been a sneaky companion.

Senseless, perhaps, but this fear is real every time my feet leave terra firma. Quote statistics, show me aviation’s data, explain aeronautic lift; my heart pumps with escape adrenaline until the plane lands. I am the dorky passenger in the back that claps when the wheels touch. I really do. I send a text to Jay, cheated death again. He laughs but I am only half kidding.

And as this metal bird tips me over La Ville de Lumiere tonight, I catch my breath, wishing I was free to appreciate the exquisite beauty instead of gasping for air. Fear is a calculating thief. Continue reading

all about obedience

castle_color

Saint Matthias church in the Castle District, Budapest

A foggy, Autumn afternoon creates the perfect opportunity for photos of Fisherman’s Bastion, Saint Matthias Church and Castle Hill. On this beautiful afternoon, it opens the door for some personal reflection. How obedient does God find me to be?

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waiting for words

IMG_1872Sometimes I mark time with a blinking cursor. Tucked into a quaint corner of the Europe that I love, I ponder what to write. What story could I tell?

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.

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