christmas letter

weekend

december

I must admit to feeling slightly guilty to curling up next to the fire on a cold clear full moon night with a cup of tea and ... a laptop? Guess I've entered the 21st century with no turning back. Well, it's been busy few days. Or should I say nights. Last evening Noreen, her sister Sue and I put up wallpaper in their place until 3 am this morning leaving today kind of strange.
David and I tag-teamed youth group tonight which was fun and I stopped by to see how the house was faring (last night was a long one, and I truthfully must admit I was wondering what it would look like come Friday- Brian's day of arrival) But, Bill was expertly washing the floor as I walked in and both Noreen and Bill excitely exclaimed that "it's almost done!" At least this part is.
So, a slowed down life here is nice, went skiing again today and enjoyed very much being outside. I remember clearly 3 weeks of outside winter life from last year and perhaps it's the older and less fierce part of me that was very glad to return to the fire and a hot bath after a nice brisk ski. I'm amazed at the very teeming life in the artic outdoors this time of year. There are more tracks in the snow than I can identify. Rabbit, deer, some sort of cat-clawed animal or dog, birds, mice- a snowy excursion running over my ski tracks with all sorts of life!!

baby it's cold outside

I opted to stay under the covers this morning when the alarm went off and the radio announcer announced it was neg 15 deg outside. Though I have very much enjoyed some morning runs, I fear that my lungs just won't take this kind of cold. I did ski yesterday, however, and found myself absolutely lost in my own backwoods, the once majestic sugar bush is no more, the maples were all logged at some point in my absence.Speaking of absense, It's almost been a year since my last trip to Asia, and I remember well that it was also a very cold experience. I went outside this morning to snap a few pictures of the sunrise and could hear cracking trees echo over the fields and promptly returned to my cosy fireside rocking chair to read. And I remember what it was like last year, in -20 to -40 deg in Mongolia, where many people live in felt-covered tents (gers) and that it was a miracle indeed that we could heat the church for our first Christmas celebration.
I have been reminded of my friends in Mongolia especially now. This past Sunday I was asked to share "what is God doing in Mongolia?" I haven't really shared my experience in front of a large group of people complete with pictures and my story. Of course many have heard the story of Narengerel, but when I literally condensed it into a 5 minute talk and a five minute slideshow, I wasn't prepared to completely break down in front of the entire congregation.


What does one publish on a blog that attempts to keep up with friends when it's all I can do to be halfway honest that life is hard. I shared Nara's story, and her trademark saying "God is Good" but in mind is the perpetual ache for wholeness. God is good, yes, but life is hard.

In the season of so many Christmas cards, yearly updates and pictures I wonder what it would be like to send out a letter "we are thankful for this year, but man, were we prepared for how much living can ache?" Maybe I'll write our family christmas letter. And then I go outside, and see the beauty of clear skies, twinkling stars, light and pure snow and am taken outside of myself and the harsh reality of my own pain and plunged into reality of a world created in a for beauty.

I'm out the door today to help Noreen with the newly revised house, Brian and Emily are coming home Friday. Now there's a story that wakes reality and speaks of what's truly important. Life. Love. Being Grateful.

diamonds

"we do not merely want to see beauty, though God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something which can hardly be put into words- to be united with the beauty we see, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it"
C.S. Lewis

I went for a run this morning and beheld what words like dazzeling and breathtaking could be taken both figuratively and as a present experience. In the backroads of Potsdam, early in the morning with the temperature barely hitting the 10 deg mark on my F thermometer, I saw diamonds. I don’t know if they were real or not, because I was never told that diamonds are the fruit of frosty trees, but I clearly saw them. If seeing is believing, then I believe that these diamonds really existed. Millions of them, sillouetted against a scintillating scarlet sky, on a hill, overlooking the backs of crystallized cow fur . I think they must be born in the air, for I saw diamonds appear as soon as my steamy breath left the safety of my mouth, captured from me, transformed. I stood breathless. Rays of white light beamed from the crystallized branches, striking and still they radiated. Beauty like that leaves one amazed that it actually exists.
It seems like we long for such beauty, and as Lewis says, want so badly to become a part of it, so much so that it is painful at times. It is surprising when we see it, we stop, dumbstruck at its recognition. Rarely though, do we notice it. I think we look so hard for it in all the wrong places. We are mezmorized by its power over us, yet so content to be bemused by its lesser forms. And sometimes, when it hits us square between the eyes, we are dumbstruck, unable to voice the very thing that so takes our breath away.
I wished that I had a camera, wanting to capture the moment. To in some way take a snapshot of time, of lights, of cold and sparkling gems, and to make it eternal. But there was nothing of eternity about the moment, the steam of my rising breath an indicator that this moment shared the fragile and unstoppable movement of time. A camera could perhaps capture the scene, or the scene could capture my eyes and live for eternity as I receive it, gratefully, a gift.
I’ve seen this fragile and fleeting beauty before. Sunrises, sunsets. Music, people. I look back now and see that the most profound beauty is can never be captured, only received. And in grateful reception embodied timelessly.
I think of Narengerel, her name, meaning “sunlight” is the very thing in which her kind of beauty radiates. Even in her absence, her suffering, her deep and painful life, a radiant etheral beauty shining through her touched many and also left them dumbstruck when they recognized what indeed hit them. Beauty unasked for, unprotected, striking and soft. A beauty that could receive into itself many people, a beauty that longed to share the love and light that so blinded many eyes.
I ache to see these things destroyed. I ache to see greedy captivity. I ache to know that so many WANT so much, but could easily RECEIVE more than they could possibly imagine with an open heart for what is truly beautiful.
I return again to George Matheson’s hymn to share more of my thoughts.

O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.
O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.
O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.
O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

today.

I'm recovering nicely now, sitting among friends at my brother's apartment in town. I noticed that my parents' light went out across the roof (yes, roof) and I'll retire in a moment to the apartment across the hall. I just made cookies for these engineers who are experiences their last week before finals at Clarkson, helping my brother with editing papers, and generally being in Potsdam. It's a funny system here, my parents living above the store, my brother living in another apartment next door and my now residing right next to my bro a jamican and nigerian grad students. Recovering from what was a rather interesting day yesterday, one that I'm now much calmed down from by being surrounded with friends and reminded that it's not good to be alone.

So, long story short, I was rather shaken by a man who came into the store as I was marking down prices on our shot-gun selection who made it his goal of the day I suppose to get under my skin. I don't know exactly how he did it, because I very clearly told him I wasn't interested in his flattery or dinner proposals the first few times he asked- (in front of my parents and brother in fact), but I found myself having a cup of coffee with him and listening to flattery ad nauseum. Ick. Note to self, do not give sleezy old men the time of day. And stick close to brothers who rally their friends as body guards.

I'm quite thankful that the entire experience has faded quickly, and I even forget the man's face (though he swore he would never forget mine- I hope he does!) and that my fear of seeing him again is abating. I didn't think I would react so much, but alas, I've realized just how vulnerable I am. Funny I can feel so invincable trekking across the world, manuvering midnight subways in mega-cities, and roughing it in the wilderness for months on end. But here, behind a counter of countless killing weapons, in a sporting goods store, with family, I was shaken. Yikes.

On the upside, I've been taking kickboxing classe. I'm enjoying them as well as other sporting endeavors like swimming and running. Getting in shape for next semester I guess. I will be returning to Wheaton in a month.

I probably haven't said much about this here, but I really don't know exactly what next semester looks like. And I could use prayer; my current degree program is now obsolete and I am finishing my program up solo. Behind words like "changing vision" my program is currently cancelled and I'm feeling a little lost. I sometimes feel like I've been in a rather long continum of "I'm shooting for something that's a long term vision" but at times I do want to have a conference with God and just ask him "huh?" I guess a life of spiritual formation and Christian journey is just that- a journey. We shall pass as pilgrims through this life, choosing joy in the journey and hopefully seeing beyond circumstances that can cloud the way. Lord help me.

nice picture

The only reason this is here at all is that I think it's one of the funniest portraits of my family. I never thought it was so funny before... it is. We are a group of ragamuffins.

bao jaozi

While bao(ing) jaozi (making dumplings) with some Chinese friends today I met a Chinese man who was lead to the Lord by a family in Louisiana who also just happen to be friends of mine and former students now in China. Should I be surprised that the world is so small? I think I must be getting used to it.

Anyway, it was nice to have a Chinese afternoon, complete with tea and jaozi (and plently of language practice of course). I laughed as my friends drove me home in the snow, and I had to remind them to drive on the right side of the road, go slowly, and be careful. Certainly coming from Shanghai via Louisiana to the bitter snowy lands of the northcountry would be quite a shock. I think I'll take them skiing sometime. They would like it.




I also saw Emily and Karissa today. She's back from the hospital and not sleeping a whole lot, but happy to not be pregant anymore. Karissa is beautiful- I didn't think that new borns were so lovely. She is. Here are some pictures.
Tomorrow I give another China presentation to the 6th grade. Should be fun. I substitute taught a few days last week which was nice. Nice to be back in school, a little strange to be back in my own school, but really nice none the less. Who would believe that literally 20 years later I was back in my old 1st grade classroom, teaching alongside my own first grade teacher! The joys of small town living. The kids are a piece of work though, and I'm finding it interesting to constantly be evaluating how I teach, what I say. There's only so much I can share about why I do work in Asia without bringing up Jesus and there's this general buzz of religious caution humming through even this school. So strange. Oh well. Love the kids regardless.

There's quite a lot of snow here, and my dad decided that our best transportation to church this morning would be a heatless ride in his old truck. Brr.