Paris (d’Orsay & the Louvre)

Paris (Versailles)

Gimmelwald & Schilthorn (again)

Gimmelwald, Schiltorn & Birg Hike

Zurich

Munich (Dachau, BMW & Hofbrauhaus)

For all photos uploaded, go to my flickr collection.

Munich

Rothenburg, Wieskirche, Neuschwanstein Castle

Wurzburg & Rothenburg ob der Tauber

Frankfurt

Surpises:
- People clapped once plane landed/touched the runway (just like after a good movie at Fifth Ave)
- A festival at a square in Frankfurt; had sardines
- Schnitzel = very good

Children as Children

I love this photo.

It’s taken by a photo journalist named Alfred Eisenstaedt whose probably best known for this photo. The photo of the children, above, was taken in Paris at a puppet show just as the dragon was being slain.

The expression of each child in this photo is wonderful.

The girl with her right arm outstretched is trying to tell the dragon (or the slayer) something.
The girl in front of her is freaking. I can hear her screaming, all the way from 1963.
The boy at the far left can’t bear to listen, but must keep watching.
The girl just under the outstretched arm looks like she just had one of her lower molars taken out.
The girl at the far right–the one with the glasses and dark hair–reminds me of this guy.
And my favourite: the girl just right of centre, at the front, with her arm around her friend…priceless. Simply priceless.

Children are so full of wonder and delight. I suppose that’s why I like this photo so much. Each child responds to the world before them differently, but each response, each reaction is real. There’s nothing holding them back; they are who they are. If they’re unhappy, they’ll cry. If they’re glad, they’ll smile. My nephew the other day broke out in a heart-wrenching, red-faced, waterfall-of-tears cry. Why? Because there was no more ice cream. Ha! (I have it on video; I know, I’m cruel)

This photo also resonates with me because I’ve been reading this neat book called The Mystery of the Child by Martin E. Marty. I haven’t finished it, so I can’t comment about the whole book…but Marty’s argument fascinates me. Here’s his thesis:

…the provision of care for children will proceed on a radically revised and improved basis if instead of seeing the child first as a problem faced with a complex of problems, we see her as a mystery surrounded by mystery. The need to deal with problems will, of course, be pressing in the case of every child, but if this need dominates the thoughts and actions of those who provide care, much of the wonder and joy of relating to children will be shrouded or even lost.

Marty spends the whole book describing and defining what he means by mystery. And though I’ve not read the entire book yet, I get it. I know what he’s getting at. Children are better at wonder and mystery, than adults are…and I think this is a bit of what Jesus meant when he said we must all become like children to enter the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 18:3).

I’ll probably post more thoughts on this book in the future, but I should say now it is changing the way I think about my work with youth and also the way I think about parenting. No, I’m not becoming a parent soon. But I look forward to it, and what Marty advises actually excites me even more about children and relating to children.

If you like the photo (above) also, you’ll like this too.

monday meanderings: in between

For Flickr set click here

monday meanderings: reflections

If you look at something long enough you’ll see more.

monday meanderings (actually, tuesday): red

Kayaking at Deep Cove

[credit photos 1, 4 & 5 to jo]

All summer Jo had wanted to go kayaking. Monday, we finally went!

I don’t usually jump at the first suggestion of any outdoor activity. I don’t know what it is. I quite like sports, but I don’t like sweating it out in the hot sun. I would rather stay cool, and smelling nice(r).

But…was I glad to finally go kayaking with Jo yesterday! It was a beautiful day. We already had a ‘full’ day: lunch with my parents and nephew, essential wedding dress shopping–for next year(!), light pasta dinner at Anton’s–without lining up–woo hoo. And last on our list of things to do…kayaking at Deep Cove.

Jo and I had kayaked before, in Hawaii. But that was three years ago. Water activity in Hawaii seems natural. Here in Canada…seems chilly-ish. But, nonetheless, I was so very glad we went.

The first thing we noticed were the waterfront houses. Not what we expected (I thought “the mountains,” “nature,” the “trees” would be what would strike us). There were so many of these large, retreat-like houses just hanging on the edge of craggy rocks. All of them had a private dock. There were either kayaks resting upside down, or medium sized motor boats tethered to these weathered wooden docks. Or both. Many of these houses, just a few paddles from the kayak rental beach, were multi-storied, had custom built staircases that winded down about 50 feet from the back porch to the water. They looked steep, but sturdy. One house, about 100 feet up, had a garage or entrance at the top of the cliff, with a glass elevator shaft about the length of two floors. I imagined the breathtaking view from the elevator across Indian Arm.

I suppose what surprised me was that there were houses like these not far from where I lived. I wondered how many other Vancouverites, having lived their entire lives in the city, have never known there were homes with such beautiful, natural, year-round surroundings. I come to places like this maybe once a year! That’s what struck me, as we navigated our way along the this shore. Just around the corner of the busy Inlet was this other world, this coastal haven nestled in the tall trees on the edge of North Vancouver. I wondered, do the people living here ever get tired of something so beautiful?

Near the end of our two hour rental, as the sun was sliding behind some range of mountains, the waters calmed and the sea water on our arms stopped evaporating. It became cool, but not cold. The noise of the jet boats and jet skis subsided, while we noticed friends and families gathering on porches enjoying salad and company. I enjoyed the smell of bbq.

On our 45-minute-non-stop-rush back to the rental beach, I finally saw what I was expecting. The calm, silky waters on which we were gliding immediately brought to mind, and heart, the Revelation vision of the heavenly throne, before which was what seemed like “a sea of glass, clear as crystal” (Revelation 4:6). It was smooth. Its movement was fluid. Though it seemed like a liquid window, I didn’t hesitate with my oar, knowing the reflection of the faint moonlight would not shatter, but simply absorb. This sea of glass carried me. A sense of peace flooded me. The joy of God visited me.

And for this, I’m so thankful.

Glory to God.

—

Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee,
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea…