Santa visit 2010

Got my annual Santa visit in this year!
This time with some friends from school - elementary school!

He didn't remember me from last year, but that's understandable as I didn't get quite a good one-on-one in 2009.
Here's hoping for a good memory for Mr Claus for this year!

Santa's surprise

Santa made a little present for our Calvin Seminary folk!

Enjoy!

(Yes, there is an extremely long story both before, during and after Santa sent this out to our seminarians. Too long for a blog, so just enjoy the music! And actually 'no' I did not create this. Click on the Christmas hues in the text above.)

Sleighbell Shuffle

I'm not ecstatic about it, but knowingly and unknowingly I've gotten on a number of e-mail distribution lists. It's easy to delete the unwanted ones (98%), so I remain subscribed and appreciate the helpful 2% which do come along.

One of these e-mails was announcing the "Sleighbell Shuffle" a 5k run through the wintry streets of Grandville in subzero temperatures at night. Tell me, who WOULDN'T jump at this opportunity?!

I convinced an equally crazy colleague of mine to join, so we planned to

1. meet up at the start of the race
2. obtain our free jingle bells to tie on our laces
3. donate old winter coats for the local woman's shelter, thus obtaining raffle tickets
4. run 5k
5. feast on eggnog and cookies following the race
6. possibly win something at the raffle

We are quite a team. I accomplished numbers 2, 3 and 6. She accomplished 4 and 5. A very important step is number 1 and this you will be quick to notice both my running partner and I bypassed. Through a series of humourous (to me at least!) events, she ended up running the 5k and I was left behind inside the warm school.

Thirty minutes or so later as the runners came through the school doors, winded and cold, I was shocked to see her. She equally to see me. We shared our stories, which made sense as to how we missed each other when notes were compared and I thought was simply hilarious - my partner, not quite as much.

In the end we did jog about half a mile following her run to sing a Christmas carol to another colleague (and kin) who lives on the route and had kept an eye out for us amidst those who ran, but texted to say they didn't see us for some reason... hmm.

Oh yeah, number 6! This was my prize, which is perhaps a bit unfair since I was the only one present who didn't run...

It's a heart rate monitor - for serious athletes - those who actually do things to make their heart rates go above sedentary.

The Perfect Gift

Arriving home from work on Friday, I found a new phonebook waiting underneath the mailboxes for each of the residents. Not remembering the last time I actually looked at a phonebook, I brought the orange plastic bag and its contents home, released Si from his cage and offloaded my work related accoutrements.

Over the last few months, I've probably spent hours investigating and choosing quite deliberately which toys I thought would be the most engaging for my little greyhound. Usually with little success.

This week the ideal object of entertainment was discovered. Silas, my 'nothing gets me excited' greyhound went absolutely crazy over this postal service delivery. Ripping into the bag, tearing the phonebook(s) apart, and throwing the respective pieces all over the room.

This kept him occupied for quite some time and I regret not videoing his moments of exuberance. And in classic Silas mode when he felt all had been successfully torn, slobbered, chewed and scattered he collapsed contentedly in the middle of it all.

She was ahead of her time

A Black Tie Affair

Having lived in an international community for nearly ten years, I got used to the odd outfits and clashing colour combinations of others and also experimenting myself with various styles and clothing items.

I loved the opportunity and took advantage of it happily. One article which I adopted into my wardrobe was wearing a necktie. Not daily, certainly not, and not weekly, simply as my mood directed me.

This was a style, which I quite liked and recently felt the necktie mood settling in. I was expecting some strange reactions from colleagues when I wore a tie to work on Thursday and was not proven wrong. At the end of the day I had survived their comments and with the worst behind me felt I could freely don the necktie in the future without being the brunt of too many jokes.

Then came Friday.

I had been asked and happily agreed to be the liturgist for our Thanksgiving chapel service at the seminary. No, I didn't wear a tie.

It was a nice service with a good sermon. After it concluded, a number of my colleagues came to the front where I was sitting to, I had thought, thank me and the preacher for the service. Nope. Every single one of them - women and men - was wearing a tie. I hadn't even noticed whilst I was leading, but they had sat all together in the first row of people proudly displaying their attire. Somehow I had totally missed it.

It's probably a good thing I didn't notice - who knows how the Thanksgiving prayer would have ended!

When we cut down too many trees:

The House that Craig built

Out of the need for change, which I think is a common characteristic amongst our female population, yesterday evening I moved the furniture of my little apartment around.

However, I realised that prior to this point, I've not yet given my faithful readers the grand tour of my abode.

So below is a video of my home. Enjoy! (The furniture has now been relocated, but this is how it's been for the last 7 months)

Most of the furniture and wall decorations were purchased on Craigslist, for which I'm extremely thankful.

Hope it works and ... sorry, if you get a bit dizzy.
(and my phone started ringing, thus the quick ending)

Sauna uses #2

Entering the sauna today after another slowly progressing workout, I saw this:

I had assumed a previous sauna-sitter had inconsiderately left their rubbish, so I planned to throw it out when I left.

Mid-sauna session a lady opened the door, said 'hello' and proceeded to retrieve her coffee which she explained she had left in the sauna to keep it warm...

Solo Sauna-ing

Particularly now that the weather calls for extra layers, I've tremendously appreciated the sauna available in the women's locker room during my gym visits. Up until today, I was the only person whom I have seen use this 195 degree little room.

After a pitiful but fulfilling workout, I went to check the temperature in the sauna and surprisingly there was someone sitting in there. I was amazed - not so much that someone was there, but more what she was wearing.

I had been introduced to the art of sauna-ing whilst in Prague and this art was enhanced during a trip to Estonia, where I learned how to sauna with the experts. (No, it's not a verb, but I like it.)

The steps to a proper sauna experience are simple: first, you sweat until you think you may die and second, you jump into a freezing cold river nearby and if you haven't had a heart attack, you repeat the process.

Just as the steps to sauna-ing is simple, so is the wardrobe: as little as possible. This surely varies depending on culture and context and comfort. I'll not tell you how you should or shouldn't dress, but I will tell you that I think the woman in the sauna this evening was a bit over dressed:

Okay, so she wasn't actually wearing a snowsuit, but she was very close. Sweatpants, hooded sweatshirt over her t-shirt, socks and shoes... It simply left me in a quandary.

By the time I was ready to join my overly-clothed gym partner in the sauna, she had left. I was quite glad for that fact because I wasn't sure how to greet her or what to say (as an American I am obliged to engage in nonsensical small talk with perfect strangers) whilst we both sweated in the tiny room. Her absence also allowed me to dress as I pleased for a fulfilling sauna conclusion to a very busy but productive day.

Ah, this country of mine. Such a place.

"Ya done good, Vee"

This is a post I drafted in late August at the end of our Orientation/Intensives weeks, but never published - not quite sure why.

The evening before I was in tears of frustration that with all my multi-tasking abilities, the tasks still exponentially multiplied and the work-day seemed to come to end more speedily each day.

My 'to-do' list grew just as quickly as my 'have-done' list. Deadlines I had set for myself and those given to me were menacingly near and I was sure that all the balls in the air would drop heavily next to me (or on me!) very soon.

I was waking up earlier, getting to work before the sun rose and attempting to sort through e-mails and organise tasks before colleagues and students appeared.

The dense feeling of being in over my head clouded my days. Though I faced each student and colleague with a smile and a 'can-do' attitude, I doubted my 'can-do-itness" and not sure how genuine my smile was.

Then at the end of two very tiring orientation weeks and at the beginning of an ominously new and uncharted semester, my boss succinctly and randomly said to me: "Ya done good, Vee".

He surely has no idea the weight that this simple colloquial phrase carried, but exactly at that moment it had the power to spur me to keep on keeping on, as they say. That despite my uncertainty and insecurity, despite my forgetting where rooms are located and who's responsible for what - I was doing alright.

I post this now to remind myself the power of a few encouraging words. I'm no longer the 'newbie' at Calvin as since April others have been hired on in varying positions. I remember how strengthening it was to hear kinds words from colleagues applauding my hard efforts or appreciating my spirit of teamwork. Now it's my turn to value and appreciate the gifts in my new colleagues whom I truly do value and appreciate. But do they know this?

New Beginnings Together

I was delighted to be asked to participate in the opening chapel service for Calvin Seminary this autumn. Worshiping as a community has become very meaningful to me and I appreciated very much the opportunity to draw people's thoughts together in prayer for the coming year.

I hadn't realised this had been printed until a colleague said she should ask for my autograph and I hadn't a clue why! If you are interested you can find this and other CTS FORUM journals on the Calvin Seminary website.

ps - click on the image to enlarge it...

Back on Track

Or at least on the treadmill. Yep, I'm attempting to start my running regime again. There's a 5K coming up soon (!), which a friend and I will be running together. I had high hopes of possibly a marathon this autumn, but my body is far from agreeing to this idea. Maybe next year!

Nonetheless, I've found an interesting, long-winded web-blog article for those who enjoy a bit if wind in the hair, sweat on the brow and blisters on the feet.This photo is from almost exactly a year ago in Prague, after completing a 5K night run through the city. A few wonderful fans came along for the fun and a nice meal together following the trek.

Still Aggravated

I've become increasingly annoyed this week as I visited my blog and was reminded of my experience in a church down the road.

It's possible you may have as well, hence this new post and photo.

Sarka Valley Community Church (SVCC) in Prague, Czech Republic is a community of Christ followers who have a very different (and dare I say much more scriptural!) understanding and practice of the Eucharist than the church I attended this past Sunday.

My final Sunday with SVCC in February 2010 was a day which I hope to never forget. Following a heartfelt sermon from a dear friend, our full attention was drawn to the wine and bread which sat on the table in front of us.

It was a morning which as a church community we gathered around the table to share the Eucharist together. We stood in one circle as was our custom. This allowed me to see and love each sister and brother whom I had worshiped with and befriended over my seven years in Prague.

The prayer and blessing over the bread was beautifully and eloquently made as the loaf was broken and passed from believer to believer. This, followed by the chalice of wine.

A miscommunication regarding the children that Sunday kept them in the service rather than having them dismissed as they normally would have been. Happily, this allowed me to see my Prague Christian family in its fullness around the table of fellowship one final time.

I was honoured to bring before each child a bowl prepared with a mixture of milk and honey. They would not drink the wine as it was passed, but could dip their piece of bread into the milk and honey as a sign of their journey and the promise that they are welcome to into the Kingdom; symbolic of the promise to the Israelites of a Land flowing with milk and honey.

Tears filled my eyes as I moved from child to child, holding the small yellow bowl. My hands trembled from emotion as I encouraged each child to dip their piece of bread in the sweet mixture. Peter, whom a few years back I had visited in the hospital after his birth; Anna, whose family was recently baptised and became members; Maggie, Leo and Marcela who visited faithfully with their parents once a year when their dad came to study at the seminary; Selina, a young girl, who quite quickly moved from a 6 year old in pink ruffled skirts to a teenager with braces and wearing skinny jeans.

These children will never remember that Sunday, but I will never forget it as together with their parents and others in that chapel, we embodied the love and shared the peace of communion together in and with Christ.

The Eucharist is a celebration! It is the very essence and the clearest sign of our Christian communion together, our sharing of the peace and embracing sisters and brothers in genuine love, and of our recognizing and remembering Christ, our Redeemer. It cannot be approached and received in this 'fast-food' manner, as a dear friend below has stated. It's not the hasty distribution of plastic two-for-one cups, to be consumed quickly so as to not take time away from the worship songs and the message.

The Eucharist is the message.

Kýrie, eléison

Pre-packaged Jesus

Juice and a wafer in an all-in-one package. A tiny juice cup topped by a plastic film, which had a small wafer placed on it, which was then covered by another plastic film.

This was my Eucharist experience today. It made me sad. I can't even call it Eucharist, certainly not Lord's Supper or Communion...

Catching Up! A missed weekend 3:

Two weekends ago, to celebrate the 31st birthday of yours truly, the city of Grand Rapids erected a free giant 500 foot (152 meter) waterslide, which ran down one of the main streets.

The city also offered many extremely unhealthy birthday snacks to keep me and my guests happy throughout the afternoon. Above are half-eaten chili cheese fries, which followed an amazing cinnamon and sugar elephant ear.

Happy Birthday to me!

Catching Up! A missed weekend 2:

It's true. When you live somewhere you are less likely to be the tourist, until the opportunity comes along!

My tourist trip opportunity to Mackinac Island came at the invitation of one of my uncles. Having this plan in the works already in May, I was like a child waiting for Christmas when the weekend trip in late July finally came!

The day was idyllic. Mid-morning we drove up to Mackinac city (still on the mainland), loaded our bikes and ourselves on the ferry and spent the better part of a gorgeous Friday in July riding around the island, enjoying each others' company, sampling the Island's delicacies (one fried pickle, please) and purchasing the necessary fudge and postcards, before riding the ferry back across to the mainland.

Again, below are a few photos from the day :)

Anyone traveling from the Lower to the Upper Peninsula always holds an in-car competition as to who sees the Bridge first. Can you see it?

A gorgeous day and a beautiful place to spend it.

Lining up to get on the ferry to cross over to Mackinac Island - unless you go by plane (or swim...) this is the only way to get there.

On the island.

My little Fit resting at a scenic overlook on my way back down south to Grand Rapids.

Catching Up! A missed weekend 1:

The first weekend of August/last of July, my mom and her sister, my cousin and I took a trip up to the UP (Upper Peninsula of Michigan) to visit my Grandparents at their cottage in the middle of nowhere (Iron River).

Having gone up there every summer as a child, it evoked such nostalgia to go again.

The grandparents regularly have a list of chores (shoveling gravel, cutting the grass, staining the deck) and in between them we jump in the lake as a reward and a refresher.

Below are just a few photos taken by my dear cousin from our adventure to the UP.

Me proudly displaying and devouring my chocolate-covered Twinkie at the Northernmost point of Lake Michigan on our drive up.

My Grandparents' cottage in Iron River, Michigan.

Stanley Lake from their deck.

My aunt and I zooming through the property with a load of gravel. ("Zooming" meaning puttering along at 10 mph)

Grandpa and I testing out my skills as a marksman on an unsuspecting milk carton.

My cousin and one of our incredible "schmoes".

Mine having just disappeared.

The Rodeo Days parade of Iron River brought out the best of the city...

Admiring Stanley Lake the evening before my long drive home.

The Five Month Hymn

It was 22 February 2010 ,when I left the Czech Republic and my job, my pets, my bike, my pubs and my friends.

Since that day, I have had a number of nostalgic moments, grieving moments and lonely moments. I've missed the meaningful relationships and the fun of the city. I've longed for the Prague ham roasting downtown and a chat over a crisp cold pivo sitting outside at the local pub. I've been extremely sad, shed tears and let them flow freely.

Since that day, I have reconnected with a very loving family. I've learned what 'coming home' feels like. Friends have embraced me and allowed me into their lives. I've gorged on the wonders of the all-you-can-eat buffet and visited and swam in the most beautiful Lake in the world. I've been extremely happy, shed tears and let them flow freely.

It is 22 July 2010 - I have an apartment, a car, a dog, a fridge with yummy food, a comfy bed and an enjoyable job.

Truly this God of ours moves in mysterious ways. Mr. Cowper, I understand your words. Thank you.

God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

Mary, Martha and Joshua

This past Sunday afternoon I finished reading my latest pick from the Kent District Library "The Year of Living Like Jesus" by retired local Grand Rapids pastor, Ed Dobson.

Not a specimen of literary art, some sections I skimmed and others I ashamedly skipped. I would take up issue with some comments he made and others I would applaud loudly. However, overall it's a book that I enjoyed and very much valued reading past the ink on the page.

Due to this book, at the forefront of my mind has been the concept of living like Jesus. Not like Dobson did with growing his beard (good thing!) and eating kosher foods, but according to Christ's teachings and his values as we read them in Matthew, Mark, Luke and John of the New Testament.

I, therefore, found myself unexpectedly in the midst of a Kingdom moment this past Sunday.

Four year old Joshua lives a few apartments down from me. Early evenings when he has not disobeyed his grandma, his mother allows him to play outside with his bike, tee-ball equipment, bug catching kit or any other toy he's recently acquired. He's ever knocking on my patio door or calling from a few yards away "Nessa, come and watch me." "Hi, Nessa, whatcha doing?" "Nessa, look what I have."

Some days I've joined Josh as we collected insects, chased toads and searched for ducks. Other days I'd greet him cheerily, step outside for a few words with his mom, then hide inside from the mosquito army camped outside my patio door.

Sunday, I had planned out my afternoon in a timely way and had little room for extra curricular activities. Following church, I'd prepare my weekday lunches, clean up dishes, do a bit of laundry, dress for a birthday party and leave. Then I heard my little neighbour's voice call out, "Nessa, are you there?" I peeked out from my kitchen without thinking. He saw me. I was caught. "Come and see how fast I can go!" In formerly white ankle socks, red shirt and shorts, Josh was out with his bike riding around in the the dirt.

I had no time for Josh today. To placate him I'd poke my head out every few minutes and call "Yes, I see you." "Oh my, that WAS fast!" "Do that again, Josh!" Hoping my responses were appropriate to what he was actually doing and allowing myself to finish the dirty dishes in the sink.

Whilst scrubbing a greasy pan, Dobson's book came to mind. I then saw myself living the "Martha and Mary" story of Luke's gospel. Martha busied herself with the household chores and Mary sat with Jesus listening to him and enjoying his company. Jesus appreciated and honoured Mary for her friendship and communion and wished Martha would join them.

My mind then jumped to the teaching of Jesus calling those who love him to welcome these little children, and in doing so, we welcome him.

My little Jesus was calling for me to come and watch him, to love him and to value him. He soon appeared again at my screen door to show off his bike helmet. I put down the dish cloth and told Joshua to wait one second. I ran to my closet, retrieved my bike helmet and joined him outside. We compared helmets and he was impressed that ours had the same 'buttons' to latch and unlatch them. He hopped on his bike, I leaned up against the tree and timed his riding from his patio to mine and back.

I went to bed that night still with a laundry basket of dirty clothes and I was a few minutes late to the birthday party, but for at least for a small section of my day, I remembered a commitment made long ago to live like Jesus and spent a valuable couple of minutes with him playing in the dirt.

Greyt Show

Daily I receive an e-mail from Allies for Greyhounds of West Michigan. It includes greetings and updates from others who've adopted greyhounds, questions and answers regarding behaviour of their pets and upcoming animal friendly social events.

I was pleased to find that this Saturday was a 'meet & greet' at a local Farmers' Market, so I was happy to cart Si along as I filled my bag with cherry plums and green beans. Seeing two ladies hiding in the shade with 5 or 6 greyhounds swarming around them I surmised this must the Greyhound corner. (Quick, I know).

The following day an e-mail with this excerpt was distributed:

"Well our first meet and greet at this location went greyt. It was a little slow at first, but picked up later. … Vanessa stopped out with Silas, formerly Lonesome Hawk who is looking wonderful and entertained us all with his funny ears and nonstop tail."

Yep, I was proud of my little showman, who after greeting the others immediately laid down, as clearly the ten minute trip around the market wore him out.

Take Your Work Home

Today I purposefully took my work home, as I had my boss and his young family over for a taco-fest. Stories of bike rides around West Michigan, silly dog antics, international adventures and varying church practices filled my apartment as we shared in table fellowship together.

You may disagree, but I want to take my work home with me. I want to know my colleagues more and allow them to know me. I want my work to come home and sit around my table. I want my work to see Silas as he lazily does nothing all day. I want my work to kick off their shoes, put their feet up and tell their stories while not constrained by the timeclock.

I want my work to see photos of where I've been and who has formed me. I want my work to tell me stories and make me laugh a full belly laugh. I want my work not to need to watch their "p's and q's" in my small home.

Today, is the first of hopefully many 14 hour 'work' days which begins in the office in Grand Rapids and ends around my table in Grandville.

Dog Days of Summer

Some photos of the last two weeks with my new roommate...

(attempting a tooth-brushing session)

(taking over my bed)