Irony

This evening I said good bye to my 10 Russian-German ESL students. We’ve been together for the last 17 days.  At every break time, I’d open windows that they’d closed.  ( I think  Slavic culture dislikes drafts.) In every class time, I’d be as winsome and active as possible to distract them from talking to each other. They got better at conversation and they learned lots of vocabulary.

The ironic thing is that the ones who were the noisiest, least conducive to studious atmosphere–they’re the ones I’m sorriest to let go. It’s the lively ones that charm me, not the prim, perfect ones. Maybe it’s because I feel the most affinity to the noisy ones. The sparkle in their eyes meets mine, and we become allies, and I’m sorry they’re leaving. I so much want them to have seen Christ. To feel the breath of His love and gentleness and bubbling joy. I think they get little enough love. I like to think they can learn English vocabulary from someone else, but maybe no one can love them like Jesus and  I can.

The Tea Ritual…

…tea is the beverage of the wealthy and of the poor; the tea ritual, therefore, has the extraordinary virtue of introducing into the absurdity of our lives an aperture of serene harmony. Yes, the world may aspire to vacuousness, lost souls mourn beauty, insignificance surrounds us. Then let us drink a cup of tea.   –Muriel Barbery, The Elegance of the Hedgehog

Oxford of the dreaming spires

So I stomped around Dublin for awhile, avoiding the rain, and flew to London Luton. Ryanair is being very strict about one piece of hand luggage only. Every time I travel with them I determine not to do it again, and then they entice me again with a rate that’s too good to pass up. sigh

Anna and her brother collected me and we had a jolly ride to her family home, to drink tea and look around the garden before heading further to A’s flat.

Sat. morn. I was sure it wouldn’t rain that day, and I was right. It was blissful to explore Oxford in the warm sunshine. On the train enroute, I could hardly stop staring at the 2 glamorous couples who were seemingly on their way to a wedding or some event that required incredibly stunning clothes that looked like they came out of the 1920’s.

I kept being amazed at how much more contintental England feels/looks than Ireland does. There are more bikes there, more cultured cafes,  vaster fields and roads. Oxford was full of tourists, but that was ok. We walked around New College gardens and cloisters, up High St. and to Magdelene Bridge and watched the punters and rowers.  We walked around Bodlian Library and looked into Alice’s Shop that was too full to go into. Walking past Merton College, we saw a poster of a choir concert later than evening!!! We browsed several bookshops, and my souvenir is The Screwtape Letters, illustrated. And now, having eaten fish and chips in the Rabbit Room (the room the Inklings met in) at the Eagle and Child, my life is complete.

O yes, and we found Pusy Lane! Sheldon and Davy Vanauken lived on that tiny street, and it’s still cobbled but their house must be gone because it was old back then and these look newer than he describes it. It was amazing to think of them going in and out of there,under the gas lamps. Vanauken’s books, A Severe Mercy, and Under the Mercy were the main inspiration that drew me to Oxford. Going back to his first book now, I realized that he didn’t spend that much time writing about Oxford–only most of one chapter–but he gives such a charming, glowing account of it that it drew me and the stately, learned place didn’t disappoint.

After the fish and chips, we walked across town, stuck our heads into the gate of Christ Church College and saw that Evensong started in 10 min. So we went in! The choir was lovely, and the prayers were beautiful, and I met God in a surprising, comforting way.

Then we went back to Merton and followed the path to the chapel and garden. Rounding a corner, we came upon 2 well-dressed young men playing croquet in the garden. Students on a Sat. night. Did you ever. I couldn’t believe it. It was like a story. Then in the old, wood-ceiled chapel, we saw the Brixi choir from northern England getting ready for their concert. I saw a lot of them had silver/white hair, and thought condesendingly that the choir must be a group of chronies who like to sing. I thought your voice is never as good after you hit 3o, but these 16  people dismantled that theory. I’ve never heard such sound and dynamics and crispness come from any choir. It was Amazing. They sang a lot of old sacred pieces that I knew or have sung, and it was all very delightful to spend an evening in a place where music has been enjoyed since the 1200’s.

I’m inspired to become reaquainted with Lewis and Vanauken and Tolkien. They seem like the kind of friends that are good to keep.

This evening

Tomorrow  morning, I plan to take an early bus to Dublin for an appointment, spend several hours in the city, then fly to London in the evening to see a friend who lives in Reading.

This evening I stopped at my parents’ house for something. As always, there was something around to eat. And did I have a Dublin map? No, but sure, it would be nice. Did I have a phone? No, but sure, it would be nice just in case.

So I hugged them good bye and left with my hands full, just like last night when I left there after mom gave me some of her glorious fragrant roses to take home.

Years ago, a little neighbor girl asked mom if I’m her girl because I’m not a little girl anymore. Mom said “She’ll always be my child; she’ll never be my adult, so yes, she’s my girl.” I’m loving having a place of my own, to be an adult in. I feel particularly rich because now I have two homes–my own and my parents’.  And I can be both child and adult and be ok.

My Exciting Days

Last night some of us went to hear Chanticleer at the Wexford Opera House. They gave their “Wondrous Free” program, and while they sang the first song, “Guide Me O Thou Great Jehovah” I marvelled at how their voices blended in the unison of the Appalachian melody. The recorded sound never has the life and depth and breadth of the live performance. I loved “Shenendoah” and “Hard Times.”  It was an amazing, delightful evening. My ideal job would be to sing for a living like they do. Meanwhile, I sing while I work.

Then today another load of us went to Cork to see and tour Logos Hope, the ship that goes around the world with books and workers to partner with local churches. We spent a long time in the book room, finding treasures.

This is what I came home with:Radical Womanhood, McCauley; Longing for More, Barton; Cross-Cultural Connections, Elmer; The Soul Tells a Story, Wright; The NLT One Year Bible, and a world map from Logos because every house needs a world map.

We toured the big ship and asked questions and were awed with the huge operation. Nearly 400 staff live on the ship, some for years, and some short term, and they come from 40 countries. A family left today, going back to England after having lived on the ship for 10 years. No wonder they cried.

The staff need to raise their own support and can’t jet home whenever a cousin or sister gets married back home. Some haven’t seen their family for several years. It was exciting to see God’s people willing to pay to be in ministry like this, being useful wherever they’re needed.

I’m rich to have experienced these exciting events in 2 days!

Book Recommendation

I’ve just finished reading Luke for the umpteenth time and love it better than before. I love how Luke gives a beautiful caring, loving, gentle manner to Jesus. Maybe Luke was a pushover for stories, like I am. He’s the only writer who recorded the parable of the prodigal son, which, more than focusing on prodigal living, reveals the waiting, watching Father who can’t wait to throw a party. (I learned today that the Hebrew term that the father used literally means, “let’s eat, drink, and be large-diaphramed!” I’m delighted to have evidence that God laughs in joy.)

Luke often puts in these comments to explain why the person was crying, or why they were asking this question. Jesus, knowing all things, may have explained these things to His disciples but maybe it only registered with Luke the doctor.  Or maybe Luke just noticed it on his own. He would have been sensitive to people, their body language, their tears. I bet he and Jesus made a terrific team. I wish I could’ve met them.

Actually, I WILL meet them sometime!!!! How’s that for meeting wonderful people you’ve read about?!

My Current Song

I heard it first when attending a missionary conference in Belfast. Elizabeth Elliot was the keynote speaker, and before one of the talks we sang this beautiful prayer and I fell in love with it instantly. It came to mind today as I was working and praying.

May the mind of Christ my Saviour

Live in me from day to day,

By His love and power controlling

All I do and say.

May the word of God dwell richly

In my heart from hour to hour,

So that all may see I triumph

Only by His power.

May the peace of God my Father

Rule my life in everything,

That I may be calm to comfort

Sick and sorrowing.

May the love of Jesus fill me

As the waters fill the sea;

Him exalting, self abasing:

This is victory.

May I run the race before me,

Strong and brave to face the foe,

Looking only unto Jesus

As I onward go.

May His beauty rest upon me

As I seek the lost to win,

And may they forget the channel,

Seeing only Him.

–Katie Barclay Wilkinson

These days, I wish I could churn out the intelligent, coherent, beautiful, inspiring words that other people are producing. Maybe I’m not working hard enough, not being a good enough steward of the gift of words.  Most of my words right now seem to come out in prayer form, and in songs, talking to God. I speak and sing for an audience of one. I plead for His character to become mine. I have no fancy, impressive words to ask for this, but somehow I know He doesn’t mind.

Pondering

I heard myself asking, “Is love a virtue if it’s deserved?”

As if some deserve love and others don’t.

What a horrible thought.

Because everyone I meet deserves love. Not because of their own goodness or virtue but because of God’s image they carry, and Christ’s death out of love for them.

Love is not a virtue when the recipient is easy to love.  Love is a virtue when the person is difficult, awkward, unlovely. And they always deserve love.

My Favourite Devotional

I don’t know why, but I haven’t found a devotional book I really like. There are thousands out there, and my sisters and I frequently come up with new titles, like Devotions while you pet your Cat, and Comforting thoughts for Coffee Drinkers. I think it was Donald Miller in one of his forwards who sparked off our creativity in this.

The one I once used the most and that still sits on my shelf but I haven’t used it in years is Joni Erikson Tada’s Secret Strength. She is solid and sensible, not as fluffy as some.

But what I use all the time, and have used for years, and don’t get tired of is what my sister gave me for payment for sewing a dress for her: Daily Light. It’s what Elizabeth Elliot’s family used, and what Amy Carmichael used before them. Every day has a morning and evening section but I read it all at one time because it’s so short.

It’s comprised only of Bible verses, collected into a specific theme for that day. I LOVE it. It feeds me every single day. Repeatedly, it speaks to the need of the hour, and I have 1998 or 2002 “Sam’s home-going” or some other significant event in the margins, and when I come back to that day the next year, I remember God’s faithfulness and how He met me there.

Which is much more substantial than pink, fluffy words that fill pages but don’t give any sustenance.

The Housewarming

I moved into a lovely big bright house with my friend over a month now, and the church wanted to have a house-warming for us, to bless us. We knew that there was talk about having the annual church barbecue soon, so we said we’ll host the barbecue, and it can be the house-warming. Tonight was the night and it was a lovely time.

We had loads of food, and the sun was bright, and as it set and the air turned cooler, people collected jackets and blankets or meandered inside.

There were over 50 people, and everyone seemingly had a good, happy time. I did, anyhow. It’s a pleasure to have space/place to share with people. This house is a huge gift from God, and I don’t want to horde it. It is scary, though, how old-maidish I can be when there are little people in this adult house where there is nothing child-proof…!

There were 6 visting Germans, and they sang some songs for us, then we sang “Gott Ist De Liebe” together. I felt so rich, surrounded with my church family, outside under the sky. God loves me incredibly well.