life: in progress

"Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid." –Frederick Buechner

Companions as we are in this work with you, we beg you, please don't squander one bit of this marvelous life God has given us.  God reminds us, I heard your call in the nick of time; The day you needed me, I was there to help. Well, now is the right time to listen, the day to be helped.  Don't put it off; don't frustrate God's work by showing up late, throwing a question mark over everything we're doing.  Our work as God's servants gets validated--or not--in the details.  People are watching as we stay at our post,  alertly, unswervingly...in hard times, tough times, bad times; when we're beaten up, jailed, and mobbed; working hard, working late, working without eating; with pure heart, clear head, steady hand; in gentleness, holiness, and honest love; when we're telling the truth, and when God's showing his power; when we're doing our best setting things right, when we're praised, and when we're blamed; slandered, and honored; true

Everything you do right now ripples outward and affects everyone. Your posture can shine your heart or transmit anxiety. Your breath can radiate love or muddy the room in depression. Your glance can awaken joy. Your words can inspire freedom. Your every act can open hearts and minds. David Deida

It was a Thursday. Nothing extraordinary could be said about the day in itself, until dinnertime rolled around. And actually, dinner itself was the way-above-average meal I had come to expect. But after I downed a dish of pasta, followed by a heaping plate filled with meat and an assortment of cooked vegetables, I was ready for the third and final course: cheese.   The cheese containter in the fridge was always stocked—sometimes with cheeses I had come to love, like gruyère, le tomme, and chèvre, and sometimes completely new types to try.   There were soft cheeses, hard cheeses, mild cheeses, smelly cheeses, and truffle cheeses.   But one was absent: orange cheeses.   That is why it came as such a surprise to me when, on this particular Thursday, I spotted a block of orange cheese in the cheese container.   As soon as it was discovered, the table was in uproar, with everyone talking all at once.   A niece, one of the younger generations who was less averse to American culture

It's Tour de France season, which in my opinion is one of the more exciting sporting events of the year.  Some of the most talented cyclists in the world all come to France to engage in a competition not just on physical fitness, stamina, and ability, but on mental focus, resilience, endurance, and power.  The course winds through countryside and mountains, small towns and cities.  And nothing like being a world champion to keep all the riders motivated.  It's really a beautiful, crazy, and kind of ridiculous event.  But glory and fame and month-long bike races just aren't for everyone.  So here's a tribute to all the everyday bicycles that may never get to compete in the Tour de France, but nonetheless fulfill their duty to their riders on two wheels with grace, style, and good looks to boot.  Vieille-Ville, Geneva, Switzerland Open air market, Lausanne, Switzerland The Olympic Museum, Lausanne, Switzerland Nyon, Switzerland Nyon, Sw

As usual, life is moving way too fast for me to experience, process, document, and record on this handy web log in a timely fashion.  So let me take a few minutes to catch up on some things that I haven't had a chance to write about yet (before I jump into my time in Morocco, which is really what is mostly on my mind).  I went to a yoga class.  Casual, right?  Except it was in a family friend's home studio, and ALL IN FRENCH.  Not so casual anymore.  I'm not exactly a yoga guru, but I love it, and I figured I could keep up by following the instructors so I was thrilled to go.  When I arrived, they greeted me with a smile, told me to take off my shoes, and handed me a mat.  The class began, and the very first thing the instructors (a husband and wife couple, by the way) said was close your eyes.  Well, there goes my last resort.  Either I learn French really quickly, or I look like a fool.  Not that that leaves me much of a choice.  But as we moved through the poses, I w

The house.  It's pink with green shutters. Facing North-West The Jura mountains.  The Jurassic period in geology was named for the formation of these mountains, and I would argue that they are one of the Jurassic period's more impressive accomplishments.     Facing South  The French Alps on the other side of lake Geneva.  The highest (and brightest) peak in the background is Mont-Blanc.  The vineyards are a nice touch, yes? (unknown leafy greens) apple orchards Is the mud here prettier too, or is it just me?

I don't really think I have an "adventurous soul."  I tagged that on to the name of this blog before I left for Switzerland because I wanted to be trendy and hipstery...who was I kidding.  But I just read it at the top of this blog and I don't think it's true.  In fact, I think I have more of an "I like to stay at home where I'm comfortable and can wear sweat pants" kind of soul.  So I've been thinking of new tag-lines. Journeys and Destinations:          "struggles of the comfortable soul to get out of the house"          "when being in my comfort zone beats being outside of it"          "only for the sake of reaching the destination"          "and a suitcase full of potential problems to worry about" I'm probably exaggerating a little, because I don't hate adventure.  Sometimes I enjoy it.  But sometimes I worry about it.  I worry about random things that may or may not happen, I worr

I went to bed last night smelling the most delicious, sweet aroma...actually it was kind of embarrassing because I was pretty much drooling alone in my room thinking about whatever it was that Vita was baking.  When I asked her she said "des biscuits" and said "Oh oui, c'est bon"  like the majority of our interactions involving food go, but not knowing what "des biscuits" were exactly. This story has such a happy ending.  Fast forward through a full night of sleep and waking up to a rainy, gray morning, my only plans for the day being an advising session and to write a paper on women immigrants, not the most uplifting topic for a rainy day.  Then I sat down for breakfast.  Violins started playing, a chorus of hallelujahs commenced, the sun broke through the clouds, my paper wrote itself, and all the people in Switzerland applauded for the miracle that I was about to experience. I present to you....des biscuits! Then the word I was waiting for

Is that the name of a movie?  Oh no, it's just my life right now. Every time I step outside, and when I'm inside, for that matter, I just can't even believe where I am and what I'm doing right now.  I feel so incredibly privileged to be able to spend a semester abroad, let alone in Switzerland, let alone with the kindest, most welcoming, and most fun family in Europe, that I sometimes can't even believe it.  But that's how I feel about my host family. They have welcomed me in so kindly to their home and gone way beyond what I would have expected.  They are a couple with three grown sons and three little grandsons, two of whom I've met and the other I met on skype.  They are Sicilian/Italian/Swiss and married/dating Polish so when everyone is over it is a jumble of languages and noise and it always amazes me that somehow we manage to communicate.  Their sons speak English (as well as a few other languages, such is life here), but during the week I can only

Five days in and I'm beginning (barely) to feel like I have an idea of what it will be like to live here for the next three months. We spent our first three nights staying in Geneva, and here are a few things worth mentioning: -->It's true what they say.  Wine is in fact much cheaper than water in this fine city. -->The food is superb.  Fresh, local, whole.   -->Everyone (and I really do mean everyone) is multi-lingual, and being surrounded by it is the coolest thing. -->It is possible that, if you go to Mr. Pickwick pub on a Thursday night, you can witness the extraordinary.  Two grown women singing Shania Twain karaoke to an almost empty room.  But really, that don't impress me much.  -->Germans are splendid tour guides, but they don't like to wait around for taking pictures!  However, I did get the chance to capture these snapshots from the city:        Martin Luther goes green    The Reformation Wall   St. Peter's