Just as a crash test vehicle comes to an abrupt halt as it smashes into the brick wall, so the Christmas season is over. Some people feel like a crash test dummy, head bopping around, still in a daze as the whirlwind subsides. Aside from a lone aisle with clearance items, the decor in stores… Read More Distance and incense
“Time to take down the tree that smells like vomit and clean up the huge mess.” A friend posted something along those lines on social media recently. Indeed, rotting tree stump is an unpleasant aroma. And I know I’ll be finding needles under the couch at least until Memorial Day. As I carefully removed the… Read More The Journey Tree
Every year I am struck by the one-liner about Mary in Luke’s account of the Christmas story, the one line that gives a hint of how she responded to the unfolding events. She rode a donkey while full-term pregnant, traveled far from home, pushed out a baby (as my children call it) in a barn,… Read More Where is the treasure in Christmas?
One of the most traditional events around Christmastime in Romania is the slaughtering of the pig. Ask nearly any Romanian what Christmas means to them and the killing of the pig, a family affair, is almost always mentioned. Santa Claus and presents are high at the top of the list, the birth of Jesus might be… Read More The Christmas Pig
The holidays are in full gear, giving lots of learning opportunities in our crosscultural environment. Here are a few things I learned this month. 1. Around mid-November I was talking with a Romanian friend who had bought an appliance as an early Black Friday deal. Black Friday? Because it comes the day after Thanksgiving, when most… Read More Black Friday is Romanian, and other things I learned this month
The face of fear, of agony, has new features for me. Tears stream down her face as she recounts confusion, treachery, manipulation, physical bondage, unwanted touching. . . Her story tumbles out of her mouth like a river, eager to be released from the dam of shame. After being abandoned by her parents as a… Read More The Coming – what it means to a slave of fear
As I recalled the account of a fateful holiday meal, posted yesterday on Communicating Across Boundaries, I asked my mom to recount the event from her perspective: That Thanksgiving is a bit of a blurr. Of course, I wanted it to be perfect. Dad had gone to Malawi, by train, to get our beloved students.… Read More The Ill-Fated Feast – Mom’s perspective
