ye olde renaissance festival

the lord and lady

"cast in bronze" played his haunting 4 ton bell instrument,

one of only 5 like it in the world.

wilsom, the wild fire breather amazing us with his stunts

scott's friend kevin with scott & me

(fireball compliments of wilsom)

redeeming the word "wench", here dressed in her proper raiment.

According to Merriam-Webster, a wench is a young woman or female servant. Etymology: Middle English wenche, short for wenchel child, from Old English 14th C.

(but you won't catch me working in these lovely clothes!)

scott and i enjoying sunset in larkspur on the way home.

scott and his friends have enjoyed the colorado renaissance festival for many years, however this was my first time to experience the medieval day. the festival actually stays in larkspur for 6 weeks or so before moving on to other states that host as well. saturday was overcast, and though we would have loved a blue sky, the cloud cover cooled our day. scott introduced me to "mead", a honey beer that was quite tasty, steak on a stake, and the sights of the festival. whenever we went to a vendor, they would address us with an accented, "what would the lord and lady like?" and if a tip was given, a shout went up, "tip, tip!" and the other servers shouted along, "huzzah!" many visitors dress the part, and scott had encouraged me to try on an outfit, so i did. but we both like it so well, he offered it as a gift from the lord to the lady, and she accepted. there was plenty to watch and see- live stage acts, comedy, knights jousting and all kinds of shops. we took the scenic drive home and enjoyed the fading light as we drove through the meadows of larkspur. fun was had by all.

pied beauty

still revelling in today's beauty...

colorado's late june garden.
sunny saturday afternoon.
bare feet greeted by freshly cut grass.
peonies, dahlias, & columbine- splashes of beauty and color.
a shady cottonwood tree dappling all that rests beneath its canopy.
a slight breeze whispering in the aspen.
a wooden swing beckoning beneath.
two enjoying the comfort of each other.
talking, laughing, quietness, rest.

surely this must reflect eden.
to dwell in the beauty of a garden nourishes my soul.
thank you Father and Creator of all.

sitting beneath the slowly changing dappled light, hopkin's words come to mind.

Pied Beauty

GLORY be to God for dappled things—

For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;

For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;

Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;

Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;

And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;

Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;

He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:

Praise him.

Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89). Poems. 1918.

romantic notions

these words caught my eye some time ago, and despite the fact that the words sound like something quoted from the pages of seventeen magazine (or at least what might have been written in seventeen when i was was a teenager), i simply agreed. the words ring true and call out for a modern chivalry all too easily dismissed. but somewhere along the way, such romantic notions seemed impractical, and hope waned.

the words read-

"Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will lie under the stars and listen to your heartbeat, who will stay awake just to watch you sleep. Wait for the guy who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in your sweats, who thinks you are just as pretty without make-up on, who holds your hand in front of his friends; wait for the one who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares about you and how lucky he is to have you. Wait for the one who turns to his friends and says, "...that's her."

reading these words again tonight, i realized that they are no longer wishful words written on scrap paper in my quote folder. these words hold wisdom that i now i know to be much more than mere idealism or romantic notions.

my word to the waiting women- hold onto hope.

summer, finally

its funny how strongly i internally reacted when people would ask, "so what are you doing with your summer?" such a seemingly innocent question to a teacher who so obviously has a summer break endlessly stretching before her. and yet, to this first year teacher, its as though i've been swimming underwater and finally have the chance to come up for air. what am i doing with my summer? i'm hoping to breathe, rest, enjoy green grass, blue skies and warm sunshine, take long walks and bike rides, see people i love, and revel in the freedom of absolutely no grading or paperwork.

not that i don't love teaching, actually i find immense joy in opening up the minds of 11 and 12 year olds to shakespeare's plays and other great stories! i find delight in helping them become better writers and answering question after question in science. the growth that happens over the course of 9 and 1/2 months, and the ways my students learn to reach out to others that might be different from themselves are windows into the mystery of life and the heart within each one of us. i walked away a little wiser, hoping to begin my second year with a few changes, but also thankful for this year and those 18 who allowed me to teach them and taught me quite a bit as well.

two weeks ago i said good-bye to my first American class, and i shed more than a few tears. we spent a year together, and i had grown to love each one. i felt like i had a glimpse into the heart of a parent those last few days of school- caring so deeply for each child, and knowing that they didn't have the capacity to understand the depth of my love for them, nor the ability to return it. just a few days later i received my class list for next year, but it was too soon. although my heart wasn't ready yet for these 21 new lives, i spent some time pouring over the list and beginning to wonder about and pray for them. i began to be overwhelmed by the needs and knowing i am simply one person, one teacher among many they will have in their lifetime, and that a year is a relatively short period of time to bring about significant changes.

but in that moment i sensed God encouraging me to put the list away. it is a thing of tomorrow, not today. "don't worry about how you'll teach those kids next year, when the time comes I will help you," He said. its as though i was asking for manna for august while its still june. so i gave the list of 21 to Him. i pray for some of the names, knowing a few of the challenges that i may face, but i keep asking God to hold them for now. i want to live in today, receiving and knowing His mercy is enough for today.

and it is summer finally, both with work and the weather, and this too is His mercy.

friends who go the distance

better known as the "spice girls" dating back to our freshmen biola days, the other four (unbeknownst to me) planned to come out to colorado to speak into my life and demonstrate their care for me. at the last minute 2 of the 4 couldn't make it, but jena and caz made their way to the chilly springs and three days was hardly enough to catch up and express our thoughts on life, blogging and inerrancy. we managed a skype video chat (thanks to scott) with t and nix, and holly was significantly missed. thankful hardly begins to express my gratitude at the gift of their intention, presence, listening ears and gifts of words and encouragement that weekend.

all my love, ginger

pentacost

i came across this picture tonight

from a small, but alive church in paris with feathers hung for pentacost.

unlike the notre dame filled with tourists to see the glory of a cathedral built

by one rich man to outdo the cathedral of another,

this building pales in architectural comparison.

yet the words above the arch spoke

even to this english-speaker of the reality felt among the people present that sunday-

"Dieu est amour"

God is love.

and ken's words from sunday come to mind that perhaps pentacost

and the giving of the Spirit

turly means to be completely overwhelmed and

undone by the love of God.

i long for this pentacost.

Holy Spirit come.

Something Changed

After watching The Ultimate Gift tonight, I heard a song I'd forgotten by one of my favorite artists. The words fell on me afresh and speak perfectly of this new place of freedom I've been given...the fear has been taken out of my hands. Sara Groves says it better than I can; I cannot make it, fake it or afford it, but its mine.

Something Changed

Something changed inside me
Broke wide open all spilled out
Till I had no doubt
That something changed.

Never would have believed it
Till I felt it in my own heart
In the deepest part
The healing came.

And I cannot make it
And I cannot fake it
And I can't afford it
But it's mine

Something so amazing in a heart so dark and dim
When a wall falls down and the light comes in.

And I cannot make it
And I cannot fake it
And I can't afford it
But it's mine.

Thank you Lord
Thank you Lord
Thank you Lord.

Thank you LORD.

seeing the beauty

someone i know called this "the ugly bush". admittedly, from afar it seemed an unshapely cluster of brown stick branches located in front of a rather unlovely stucco house with very little in the way of leaves or green nearby. but i pride myself in finding the beauty. spring comes late to colorado, and i long for its arrival. similar to japan where sakura (cherry blossoms) spoke to me that a change of season was near, the abundant blossoms of colorado springs serve as beacons of hope that spring is close, and that summer is on its way.

girl on a bike

if weren't for the present-day cars in the backdrop, this picture might feel ageless. set back 50 years, kira still fits. her beauty - timeless, and the soul- ageless.

where would i be, or rather- who would i be without this friend who walks beside me through our joyous and tear stained moments and months? who else could share hanami with me right here, in colorado springs?

i love this girl on a bike, the tears she refuses to hide, the joy simmering in her being, and the fact that i can see God carrying her.

today's grace

came surprisingly, as perhaps it always does. a day when i felt the dark cloud of poor decision hanging over me. a guilt hangover? i had a pounding head as evidence. yet, so much grace found me today. and yes, i know undeserving defines grace and mercy. but still, like a little girl shy to look her dad in the eye when he offers a hug after she's fallen off her bike, i hesitate. embarrassed and unsure, i question forgiveness for a while. and for that pitiful reception of love, i am offered gifts i don't deserve but welcome with open eyes.

first, i discovered a petition on my desk (in the form of a letter with relatively good rationale), written by ben and signed by every student, requesting a morning recess. i found grace in that there was a lack of repetitive requests at the beginning of class. could it be that they are learning that i don't respond to clamor or shameless begging? claiming democratic process and the power of written word- i acquiesced.

at that very recess, maddie asked me to play kickball with the girls. when playing 3rd base i had to run for ball after ball, so she offered to trade spots with me. relief! we had a blast and i got a bit of fresh air and exercise.

unexpectedly another teacher commended my student joe for exceptional participation in a character education class. i usually get the opposite type of comment. a good day amidst many difficult ones for him this week (this year). later joe pulled me aside and proposed a meeting between himself, his dad and me regarding making a new goal regarding his behavior. will wonders never cease?

this friday afternoon in april i expected the highly contagious spring fever to spread among my 6th grade class, but no, instead the day proved calm, enjoyable and focused. we found our storm as we began homer's odyssey with odysseus facing poseidon and his trident in the crest of a wave...

and just before the day came to a close, sarah's mom brought three miniature schnauzer puppies to show the class. those 5 week old little pups received an outpouring of affection from my adoring class. i loved watching some of the boys whose emotions usually lie hidden beneath the surface cuddling the curly haired pups with grins on their faces. grace again.

and then as if enough grace had not already been given, scott met me for coffee at the end of this long day, offering to drive the distance to meet me at school if needed, simply to give me a hug. grace with skin on met me, listened and spoke to my soul.

more than enough.
thank you Father.

juno

after a very talkative ice cream date at maggie moo's with one

hilarious 3rd grader and her delightful 5th grade sister, i knew i couldn't top the evening. but scott and i had talked about catching a flick at the picture show. we checked out what was playing and instantly agreed on "juno" which would start in less than 30 minutes. knowing little of the story, but having heard positive acclaim from several friends, i felt confident in our choice, as we found our seats after the movie had started.

fifteen minutes in, juno had me charmed by her verbal coinage, wit, and wisdom beyond her years. the honest dialogue of her step-mom and dad through her eyes, showed their weakness, but even more a strength of character that drew me, endeared me to their "minnesotan" grit, and had me laughing throughout.

if you haven't seen "juno", you might want to stop reading now, so you won't blame me for divulging...

to me, one of the most poignant scenes of the movie happened right after juno gave birth and lay in the hospital bed exhausted. her dad looked lovingly at her and said, "someday you'll be here again, on your terms", at which point i lost it, and was practically sobbing aloud in the packed theater. moments later, the baby's dad, bleeker, runs in somehow sensing the moment had arrived. juno's dad welcomed him and gave them some space. then, without words, bleeker saw juno, and muddy sneakers and all, climbed on her bed and held her through her smiling tears for what seemed like forever.

later, as scenes from the movie replayed in my mind, this one wouldn't leave. amidst the challenge and pain juno faced for experiencing something she, at 16, wasn't ready for....i saw so much room for healing and wholeness, for juno and for bleeker, and for vanessa, the adoptive mother. then i thought of the choice so many girls quickly make "to nip it in the bud" without even telling the fathers of their little hearbeats, and it seemed to contrast so greatly to that scene, which was literally life-giving to each person in the story.

emo

is a hairstyle, apparently; a longish look popular on japanese men and short for "emotional". all of this was new to me today. the image my mind conjures up is anything but emoting, rather i see angst. but emo describes me today, and i don't mean my own long fringe (B.E. for bangs) irritating me time and again as they slip into my line of vision. rather, the weight of this week and feelings of inadequacy on several fronts try to shed themselves through tears. and for emotion, i'm thankful. the Author of life knew we needed tears and endowed them freely; perhaps he knew He would need them as well. the zen approach to rid oneself of unwanted emotions can lead to the inability to feel anything at all. and when i think of this, i thank God that my heart is moved by sadness and pain and that tears fall from my eyes. the goal is not to empty my soul of all the jumble within, but simply to offer it to my Lord.

365 and counting

one year ago today, a man waited outside in drizzling rain to meet me. a gentlemen who served me at panera bread that first date, which was only the beginning. that april day, i wasn't sure where "we" would go...no flashing lights or heavenly voice fortold the days to come. but in each encounter a depth of character was revealed to me, and new insights into this man suprised me. with his listening ear and kind strength he drew me. this man grasps grace and weeps at the love of Jesus. i find myself grateful for the way my heart opens to him, relaxes in his presence, and sees truth in new light because of his honesty. and my heart whispers to me not to let go. yet i still find myself surprised that this man loves me, but the knowing that his love is real grows deeper in me each day and responds in kind. so, here i am, 365 days of conversations, life stories, new memories, tears and laughter later--- ---still here, and counting.

icy fog

is what the weatherman calls the freezing dampness outside my window. spring fights with winter, or so it seems to me, winning on the warm, sunny mornings and blue sky'd afternoons. today winter still holds its grip by hiding the coming season from my senses. evidence of spring's presence surrounds...grass greening through the brown and snow melting after the shortest of visits. however, the gray chill captures my mind, and enforces the belief that the white witch still clutches us tightly in her grip. contrary to what may be visible...my heart knows that the kingdom of heaven has arrived and is making its way in us like yeast through the dough; it knows this as fiercely as it knows of july's inescapable heat amidst a bitter january blizzard. too many days this reality stays hidden when my heart forgets and instead believes in the story mere sight can tell of the permanence of the icy fog.



"He told them still another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour until it worked all through the dough." Jesus spoke all these things to the crowd in parables; he did not say anything to them without using a parable. So was fulfilled what was spoken through the prophet: "I will open my mouth in parables, I will utter things hidden since the creation of the world." - matthew 13:33-34

What We Need Is Here

by Wendell Berry

Geese appear high over us,

pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,

as in love or sleep, holds them to their way, clear

in the ancient faith: what we need is here.

And we pray, not for new earth or heaven, but to be

quiet in heart, and in eye,

clear. What we need is here.

atsui kohii kudasai

the wet snowy weather seemed to penetrate to my bones yesterday, and i found myself reminiscing about the "hot & cold" drink machines in japan. as scott and i watched our friend tait practice ice hockey in the cool stadium, i wanted nothing more than a warm can of 'cafe au lait' or green tea to hold between my palms.

so imagine my delight this morning when, thanks to a D-20 snow day, i had a little time to peruse flickr and discovered this photo (link below)! i wish i'd taken one myself; perhaps i did, but who knows where that negative is right now! look closely- the little red words say "atsui" which means hot, and the little blue words say "tsumetai" which means cool. just insert 130 yen in coins, and out comes the hot or cold drink of your choice. and these little machines, lit up by flourescence, serve as beacons of hope on the dark and lonely country roads in rural japan. sweet convenience! admittedly, the coffee really fails to live up to anything close to good coffee, but in your moment of need, your palate might just welcome a canned japanese version of 'cafe au lait'.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/sirintira/2329641005/

to suffer with

a caveat:

i wrote this post after church, but then read kira's blog and felt mine an insignificant imitation. however, after thinking on it today, i decided to post it anyway.

today at church we stood outside with palm branches in hand, singing hosanna, and i hated it. to identify with the crowd mentality, the crowds who followed Jesus in his popularity and a mere week later joined with the jeering crowd saying "crucify him", made me cringe. i hate it, yet find it necessary to admit that this is me. too often i praise God when His gifts seem abundant, but when my person is at risk, i too have fled and failed to give voice to this man who has brought healing to me and to many i know.

in the sermon, seth illuminated the word "passion" for me, for us. even with mel gibson's movie titled "the passion of the Christ", and the week before easter often referred to as "passion week"...i still never really grasped it. but today "passion" has come alive for me. this kind of passion that means suffering. and from this suffering he comes to me.

compassion = to suffer with.

a man of many sorrows, acquainted with our grief: Jesus.
he suffers with us.

recess

today i wished that i had emulated dorothea lange, and worn my camera like an appendage. but my canon rebel without digital capabilities remains more of a purse, often worn over my shoulder, but chosen only for certain occasions. thus i have no image caught on film of a pristine moment at recess this afternoon. i spontaneously offered my sixth graders 15 minutes of extra outdoor bliss today. so why am i surprised to find myself the recipient of this gift.

as i walked around 16 kids at play, my eyes framed 3 of my students standing a top a hill, playing a carefree game of "kick the ball down the hill" to their friends waiting below. without a playground, or even the luxury of grass, improvisation becomes the game for many of our students. our playground is the fire line at the enormous high school campus that has genuinely welcomed our orphaned school this year after our mold crisis.

instead of swings, slides, and a grass field, you might see four-square drawn with a rock on the pavement, "touch" football on asphalt, or a modern game of "push each other off the rock" to see who can stand the longest. after a snow, there was "take a running start and launch yourself over the hill" to see who could land the furthest.

now the girls have devised a game of a few above and others below simply kicking the ball in both directions- of course the challenge being that those below can kick it high and far enough to reach the outstreched arms above.

no image exists in print or digital format of that glorious afternoon sky filled with silver-lined cotton clouds serving as a backdrop for three 12 year old girls silhoutted against it. and no close-up shot cemented the moment after the whistle blwe when one of these girls, blue eyed with freckles, and cheeks rosy from exercise in the cool fresh air, expressed her pure delight in the simply joy of kicking a ball so that it sails across the sky and down the hill.

recess. perhaps we should all go outside and play together for 15 minutes everyday.

examining desire

"What are you looking for?" she was asked.

"I don't know." she said.

"That's your problem - you don't know.

And so your unexamined desires rule you."

Tonight as I read back a few pages through my journal, I came across these words I had quoted from Dare to Desire, a condensed version of Journey of Desire. Three months later, they still ring true. A year ago, I identified with the girl who didn't know. In fact, that phrase often escaped my lips, and still does, though less frequently I hope. Often it followed thoughts or a voiced opinion as if to apologize for possibly knowing or having the audacity to think I might know. It was a dismissal. Last month Scott and I watched and cried through August Rush, but after the movie tears continued to stream, and I recognized in myself the immense desire to KNOW. Such knowing carried the main characters through much difficulty and even persecution; listening and true knowing of their desire and faith led them to their miracle.

Similarly, a blind man named Bartimaeus was sitting by the road begging in Jericho. Jesus and his disciples, surrounded by a large crowd, were leaving the city.

When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, "Son of David, have mercy on me!" Jesus stopped and said, "Call him." So they called to the blind man, "Cheer up! On your feet! He's calling you." Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.

"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asked him.

The blind man said,

"Rabbi, I want to see."

"Go," said Jesus, "your faith has healed you." Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road. (Mark 10)

"Lord, make me a channel of your peace. Where there is hatred, may I bring love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Oh, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; not so much to be understood as to understand; not to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life."
-Mother Teresa

tonight in watching the story of mother teresa's life, admittedly a bit idealized, her love, her perseverance to her calling, and her faith shone brightly. surmounting numerous obstacles to her work with children and the dying, "hard-pressed" from various sides, she never gave up.

"Keep the joy of loving God in your heart and share this joy with all you meet especially your family. Be holy – let us pray."

what a new take on letting the joy of the LORD be my strength. he sustained her, the nuns under the Sisters of Charity, and projects around the globe for decades. such faith and simplicity humble me. LORD, allow your joy to truly be my strength. i want to look for you in the face of every person i encounter.