new kettle

because the water from the old one was getting brown and browner.

it shows that inept housekeeping can happen in your twenties or your fifties.

advent

i cannot tell why He whom angels worship

should set His love upon the sons of men

or why, as Shepherd, He should seek the wand'rers

to bring them back they know not how or when...

but this i know, He heals the broken-hearted

and stays my sin and calms my lurking fear

and lifts the burden from the heavy laden

for yet the Savior, Savior of the world is here.

- william young fullerton

under the pretty prints on the wrapping paper 

behind the unending cycles of modified carols

beyond the plastic smiles and air kisses

i know i have a hope

at last

an unexpectedly light day at work

some really pleasant encounters

HOM coming to the end of his last business trip this year

silver bells playing at starbucks

thundery stormy weather

it's starting to (finally) feel like the end of the year.

thanksgiving 2015/with gratitude

1. we roll out a new more robust more defensible structure* that i am genuinely proud of. with enough polish i guess. against many odds. by God's generous undeserved grace
2. E wriggles his energetic enervating way into our lives, which will never be the same again. as neither will be our furniture and other fixtures around the home
3. HOM and i refine the weekend getaway to a finer art. keep it short keep it near keep it frequent keep it cool. but mostly keep it frequent. it is a good thing to enjoy each other's company
4. i go on a mission trip. with all its attendant limitations and challenges, i say yes entirely independently of HOM or J or J and discover a little bit'o'strength in myself
5. i finish another year of work that i generally like to wake up to show up for. i acquire a new workmate that makes showing up a pleasure. i wonder another year why i show up anyway
6. J and J keep us in their lives. people ask, do you not miss them? yes and no, i say. is our joy that they have their lives. God holds them in his hands

and, to the level of the day's most quiet need, by sun and candle-light, thanks be to God.

*the new Masters examination

thanksgiving 2015

my faith looks up to Thee, thou Lamb of Calvary, Savior divine!

... o let me from this day be wholly Thine!

- ray palmer

i forget the good amidst the inclement and the mercies amidst the inconveniences. i remember the irritations the irritators and the injuries. i forget it is a privilege to be injurable. i grumble that my labor is unrecognized. far better, the little voice says, to be capable of labor! 

i come broken hurt bound succored and healed. i come to the end of a long year. thanks to God.

amazing grace/life's journey

to J1

thru many dangers toils and snares i have already come

'tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.

my story, as you have heard over and over

my prayer, that it may be yours to pass on too.

the Lord hath promised good to me - his Word my hope secures

he will my shield and portion be, as long as life endures.

as he has been my shield and portion, may he be yours.

be courageous. work hard. keep the faith. give gladly.

may God, who watches over you, fill you with his fulness.

choose your qualification

'nuff said.

impressions of myanmar

1. the rich-poor divide
2. the colonial-local architectural divide
3. betel nut chewing (and liberal expectoration)*
4. the golden pagodas amidst the slums**
5. the relative lack of commercialization
6. how similar it is to thailand

*the yuckiest part
**the most transcendently beautiful part

the weight of glory - c. s. lewis

ask me what i gain most from my mission trip and i think it is the time to read the slim volume left for too long on my shelf.

my soul longs for what it knows not, and lewis reminds me that what i dimly ineffectively ineffectually grasp today will one day be triumphantly and magnificently present. 

and that my neighbor, whom i oft am presumptuous with and - dare i admit - contemptuous of, shares the same promise as i. my neighbor's hope of glory is a weight upon my shoulders under which my pride must needs break.

"..next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses."

mission trip

thankful for the privilege.

and immensely grateful the air conditioning the electricity the online access and the firm bed at night. 

flea market

quite without meaning to, HOM and i investigate a flea market in yet another city. you get the same heady mixture of sleaze style tedium and hope, plus that throb of capitalism out to profit from the unsuspecting. although the woman selling children's books for 50 centimes each was probably truly trying to move stuff.

last dinner in paris

is at le volant basque. the boeuf bourguignon. is. orgasmic.

i feel like there should be a post-prandial syncopal attack when i stand up.

pilgrimage

why do you want to go to the latin quarter again? HOM asks me. there is a bookstore i want to visit, i tell him.

it is a messily ordered cluttered cavernous shop with books that invite you to browse your day away. it is a library of soft limp pilled and stained cushions that allow you to sink yourself onto. it is a piano in the upper room that wants to be played. it is respectfully hush hush and delightfully free of tourist chatter. it is the bewitched bookstore of my childhood.

between the museums and this place, my soul has had a vacation.

musée de cluny

the tapestries are magnificent. the stone carvings bewilder me with their intricacies. the altar pieces are idolatrous in size and scope. the paintings are gorgeous. the proportions are breathtaking. i spend an enchanted morning wandering at my own pace.

but i have say this. the pottery's better in east asia.

alzheimer - cavafy

... keep ithaka always in your mind...

but do not hurry the journey at all. 

better if it lasts for years

so you are old by the time you reach the island,

wealthy with all you have gained on the way,

not expecting ithaka to make you rich.

ithaka gave you the marvelous journey...

she has nothing left to give you now.

and if you find her poor, ithaka won't have fooled you.

wise as you will have become, so full of experience,

you will have understood by then what these ithakas mean.

(translated by keeley and sherrard, 1992)

perhaps Alzheimer is to be our generation's Laestrygonian.

la sorbonne

it looks like university students the world over have the same concerns. amidst the cigarette-smoking wine-swigging insouciant habitués of la place de sorbonne i find this little store that advertises different binding styles for term papers.

impressions of paris

1. they do love their tobacco here

2. french has very sexy sounds

3. gallic charm is real

4. french women have bad hair days too, but the tourists have more

5. they like their dogs little

6. there's a historic building in every corner

the shop assistants all call me madame here. very age appropriate, and a credit to their judgement, especially because i usually get 小姐 back home, which i always believe is due to sheer laziness.

as an epilogue, unfortunately point #1 above mitigates points #2 and #3.

the good samaritan (Aimé Morot)

here is my neighbor. unclothed, anonymous, surreal, in need, with nothing to offer in return.

here i am. inconvenienced, propositioned, burdened, sweaty and vulnerable.

may God help me be that neighbor.

a walk to remember

doing the student thing today on my own with more time on my hands than plans.

le petit palais

fine arts is an addictive cocktail.

le marché et le musée

i chance upon the open market at avenue du president wilson. the food! the cheeses! the wines! the clothes! the bags! the scarves! 45 euros, the lady says, of the colorful bit o' silk from india that tugs at my heart. 

i eventually end up at the modern art museum. the abstractions! the colors! the shades of night! the shapes! the light! fortunately for me, the indian silk loses its charm next to picasso. 

le market

in the fresh produce market sweepstakes, the winner (for agreeableness):

this one, at rue mouffetard

i have in my mind the winner for the most disagreeable but it would not be fruitful to discuss that.

traveling companion

i cannot imagine life before google, i tell HOM. that was a time of pre-trip research and printed maps and rigid itineraries. gimme a smartphone and a data plan and i get google directions and yelp and trip advisor recommendations and metro line change instructions. plus wikipedia for the background flavor. it makes me very plebeian and it enables my slothfulness. even better would be widespread free wifi.

montmartre

i want to visit the basilica, i tell HOM. we missed montmartre the last time. 

so we take the metro to abbesses, per google. i find out later that abbesses is an historic station, the deepest of them all, and access is usually via elevator. BUT GOOGLE DID NOT TELL US ALL THIS. which is why HOM gallantly pulls me up the butt-cramping never-ending spiral of steps to the exit.

the view is stupendous. the basilica is magnificent. the buskers are variable. the artists' square is full of portrait vendors. the street magicians are seedy as promised. Le Babalou delivers on its pizza, per yelp. plus, as a result, the iphone says i climb 45 storeys today. 

old magic

1. hot chocolate at angelina on rue de rivoli. a tad sweet. but the first mouthful is as orgasmic as we remember it.

2. macarons at ladurée. chewy-melt-in-the-mouth-not-on-your-finger macarons. and they come in a bigger size here! 

3. nutella filled crepe, warm. on a cold day with a biting wind. is. so. scrumptious. 

la défense

it's nice to be back, after seven years. i remember the metro, the stations, the walks, the places. this is where i finally learn to love olives. the food is even better. the present is clearer.

i remember the pain. not the sharp misery, but the blindsiding unexpectedness of a call in the middle of the night. c'est la vie.

i am blessed. one of the holidays i treasure the most, a second time over.

still alice (2014)

i watch this on the flight over to paris. a surprising choice, considering my last ten movies have been of the pixar cars variety. 

what i say is, this is beautiful. julianne moore, as she allows the layers that form the woman to dissolve until an unrecognizable shell remains. alec baldwin as he loses that about his wife which he loves, and as he loses bits of himself. kristen stewart, as she seeks the mother she knows and unexpectedly finds it possible to relate to the husk she has become.

dementia hits hard. the challenge of our generation, i think, is to come to peace with just how hard.

aldersgate sunday

no condemnation now i dread/ Jesus, and all in Him, is mine/ alive in Him, my living Head/ and clothed in righteousness divine/ bold i approach th'eternal throne/ and claim the crown, through Christ my own.    - charles wesley

bulky unwieldy hymn this, i think when first i sing it.

these days the tears flow freely and i gladly embrace it.

meet E

here is E, 2 weeks with HOM and me.

S got the kodak prints Dog had the digital camera and E gets the cellphone cam.

a dog-shaped void slowly refills.

excuse me while we go toilet train some more.

bangkok escapade

HOM and i

browse-shop-massage-eat

rinse and repeat

maundy thursday - the death of the cross

who, being in the form of God, did not consider it something to be held onto to be equal to God, but made himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross.

- phil. 2:6-8

this is my God, who says to me, take, eat, this is my body, and, this is my blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many. 

i bring my broken life, mended

my fissured spirit, made whole

i bring the scarlet stains made clean

i bring my alabaster jar.

refine me , lord

so let me give praise upon praise

e'en if praise be tears

let me learn that 'yond the pain

you allow the sweetness in

... that which you would take away 

you replace with yourself, lord

we sing this in church today, this hymn from another generation and another language. it reminds me that peace comes in submission, and with peace comes joy.

o God our help

our God our help in ages past, our hope for years to come, our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home. under the shadow of thy throne thy saints have dwelt secure; sufficient is thine arm alone, and our defense is sure. before the hills in order stood, or earth received her frame, from everlasting thou art God, to endless years the same. our God our help in ages past, our hope for years to come, be thou our guard while troubles last, and our eternal home.  - isaac watts

sometimes, quite often, as a reaction to the hearty choruses that are in favor these days, but also as the cry of a broken unworthy soul, i would like to sing one of these grand old hymns again, with the focus less on that holy undeserved intimacy between my Lord and me, and more on the almighty all merciful God of us all, lest we unwittingly bestow grace too cheaply upon ourselves.

sunday thought

nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!

e'en though it be a cross that raiseth me,

still all my song shall be, nearer, my God to thee,

nearer, my God to thee, nearer to thee!

...then, with my waking thoughts bright with thy praise

out of my stony griefs Bethel i'll raise;

so by my woes to be nearer, my God, to thee

nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!

- sarah f. adams

some songs tap our feet, some songs we weep out. there is a place for both, and the second do not belong only to memorial services.

what's changed in 2 years

1. many more free wi-fi spots. what was life before this like??
2. the beltway expansion finally finished. it looks quite handsome too.
3. the little kids have grown bigger.

otherwise, not too much has changed. it is comfortingly like going back to your hometown.

old times 2 - getting out of it

winter travel is unpredictable. march is spring not winter. so HOM and i get nicely caught in the tailspin of an anachronism. that is to say, we get the full brunt of a snow storm on the day we fly out of d.c.

to be specific, the 'plane i am seated in gets mechanical trouble followed by communications trouble followed by crew time-out followed by de-planing followed by passenger tantrums followed by new crew time-out followed eight hours later by flight cancellation and re-assignment to a new flight to another continent.

the 'plane HOM is seated in gets into a super long line trying to get de-iced followed by mechanical trouble followed by power outage followed by another line to de-ice followed by some more mechanical trouble followed eventually by a missed connection.

but by God's great providence both our final flights land in changi at the same time three days later on the same terminal and are assigned adjoining baggage belts and we share a cab home.

i often say God is in control but to see just how much control is both awe inspiring and amazingly comforting.

old times

it is a visit that almost never was, as HOM and i fly in on five separate flights to meet again at the airport, in a county caught in a snow storm. we catch up with old friends over warm meals while the winds whip and the sleet falls. the faces are the same the names come back the stories continue unbroken and the challenges remain. uncle so-and-so had cancer last year, but he is well now by God's grace, they tell us. old mama so-and-so died last year. the young ones are graduating college this year! so-and-so is going to medical school! little so-and-so is getting married. 

we visit favorite haunts from before and eat at miyagi again. the cinnamon crunch bagel from panera bread calls my name as usual. we buy boxes of kosher salt because we can. the neighborhood street names come back effortlessly. never mind the gps, i tell HOM. i'm your gps.

it is a visit to the place of my flames and floods. the memories are not all untarnished. old anxieties fears and agonies remind me that they have lived side by side with friendships fellowship and comfort. it is a visit to teach me that the memory of pain moves me, but not with the same paralyzing fearsomeness as the pain itself. i learn that pain is in God's hands as much as joy and happiness. i pray i may not fear this.

it is a good visit, in the sense of a good and perfect gift.

sanctuary. not.

so, in addition to preachers urging me to bestow my good cheer upon my next-seat neighbor and telling the unsuspecting soul God loves you! i'm so glad to see you! i realize some new things to shudder at in church.

first off, there are all these people one has known for years who have taken to shaking my hand in order to wish me good morning! peace to you! please, can i just nod and smile? some of us function at a subsistence level of arousal.

here's the other thing. people have taken to ambushing old friends in order to sell cookies to/ raise funds through/ solicit help-support-attention-whatever from, all in the name of fellowship. it is enough to make a girl want to scuttle away from church.

to J2, from a proud mother

can a woman forget her nursing child,

and not have compassion on the [child] of her womb?

surely they may forget, yet I will not forget you.

- isaiah 49:15

more than anything else, i give thanks that you are his, and that he holds you in the hollow of his hand. may you have the assurance of his abiding presence and know the glorious fulness of his calling in your life. may you grow in grace and wisdom, and in time, in all comfort as he leads you. may you be richly blessed, and bless richly. 

appraisal

never think she loves him wholly - never believe her love is blind

all his faults are locked securely in a closet of her mind;
all his indecisions folded like old flags that time has faded, limp and streaked with rain, 
and his cautiousness like garments frayed and thin, with many a stain
let them be, oh let them be, there is treasure to outweigh them, 
his proud will that sharply stirred, climbs as surely as the tide.
senses strained too taut to sleep, gentleness to beast and bird,
humor flickering hushed and wide, as the moon on moving water,
and a tenderness too deep to be gathered in a word.
- sara teasdale

one has been given to have known the treasure.