Closing Thoughts from Albania

The Team

Its been a bit more than two weeks for Younger Daughter and team members on their mission trip to Albania.  They are flying home tomorrow.

From the blog updates and the photos, it seems to have been a wonderful trip.  A chance for busy and media affected American kids to unplug from the rush of life here at home, and experience a more simple life, devoid of text messages, cell phones, the Internet, and the rest of the cultural delicacies they are inundated with each and every day.  Maybe two weeks in rural Albania is the best thing that could ever have happened to them.  I like God's timing.

We are guessing that the last post on the Albania blog was written by Younger Daughter:

The Camp

"Earlier this week Emma and I were talking about leaving and she described it as "bitter sweet". I couldn't agree more! We are all ready to be back in the states entering into our daily lives. It's the simple stuff like laundry, flushing toilet paper down the toilet, and easily communicating that we are ready to enjoy again.

However, the culture and mostly the people will be the thing we will miss the most. Maybe its just me, but I feel like our work is not done here. Let's stay another two weeks!! We have developed relationships with people here so quickly that it is frustrating to leave after becoming so close.

This trip has taught me more that I had expected. The most important thing that i have learned is how important it is to cherish and grow in our relationships with one another. So as us girls sit here painting our nails and talking, we are reminiscing about this trip and what fun we have had. Emma is sitting on the windowsill looking out on this little town Erseke with the sun shunning. Devon and Gaby are cuddling in the bunk across from me. Gaby is tending to her allergic reaction and laughing as usual (pray for her rash and throat). Darby and Marisa are sitting below me finishing up their nails singing along with the music. As for me, I am just taking it all in on the top bunk by the window.

So for our last day in Erseke Albania, we are headed out to lunch and back to camp to say goodbyes and play. Tonight we are going across the street to the church for dancing and community time. In the morning we will be on our way by about 930 am for Tirana, which is about a 5 hour drive.

Tomorrow and Monday are going to be very long and exhausting and I am sure we won't all be in the best of moods. But us girls plan to head into London for breakfast since we have the longer layover. Pray for us! Thanks for all your love and support.

From all of us on team California, Mirupafshim."

 Color me a proud Dad.

When You Are Old - Yeats

Sometimes, the words just speak for themselves:




                When You Are Old
    WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep,
    And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
    And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
    Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
 
   How many loved your moments of glad grace,
    And loved your beauty with love false or true,
    But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
    And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

    And bending down beside the glowing bars,
    Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
    And paced upon the mountains overhead
    And hid his face among a crowd of stars.

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)                   

Young Lives - You Were Made for This

She could have spent a week at the beach. Or at a spa, or shopping, or laying in the sun.
But my wife chose to do this for a week.  I admire her so much, I don't know how to express it.

Update from Heather in Albania

A week ago we put Younger Daughter on a plane to Albania, via London.  After 7 days we have a wonderful update from a remarkable girl.  Ok, I am biased.  Sue me.

There she is to the right in the orange shirt and shorts, in a photo taken earlier this week.  So far from home, but so close in our hearts.

Update from Heather!

Hey Friends & Family:

Heather here! Hope you all are doing well back in the States. Your prayers and thoughts have really reached us here in Albania, so please continue to do so. This past week has been eventful and for the lack of a better word, amazing! When we arrived in Erseke, we all were too exhausted we didn't have time to soak it all in. However, as this week has progressed, we ALL have had time to adjust and enjoy this different but fascinating country.

As a team, we are working at a camp that the Stoscher family owns. The camp is a 15 minute walk (exactly) from the Stoscher's home. This past week and the next, junior high students from across Albania attend the camp to have fun and learn about God. For me, I started the week with the job of "accommodations" which involves cleaning throughout the camp. In the late afternoon, Emma and I would head back to the church for the neighborhood playground/devotion time. The Brits (which I am sure you have read about from Emma or Devon) run the program with games and a group devotion for about an hour and a half every week night.

I absolutely love helping out during this time. The kids are so kind and welcoming although you have almost nothing in common with them. After just one afternoon with them, Emma and I had several kids run up to us and give us HUGE hugs when we first arrive at the church. Although the communication/ language barrier has been the most difficult aspect of the trip, that doesn't stop us or the kids from connecting. Wednesay night we all attend the community "walk about" (which Emma mentioned). It was such an interesting cultural experience to be amongst the entire community. During the "walk about", the Brits started to dance and form a circle. The Americans (Team California & Seth from Seattle) joined in and we created a GIANT circle. The Albanian people looked as us like we were crazy, but also found us amusing. I am sure they think we are just weird foreigners. :) After a bit of dancing, we all headed over to a tennis court size carpet soccer field that is considered to be "indoors". We then played an intense but FUN game of soccer from 11:15pm-12:30am. (We all woke up sore and exhausted the next morning).

Thursday and Friday I worked in the kitchen almost all day peeling, washing, and cutting all types of food. I have never experienced so many flies in one area before in my life. During the afternoon, I helped with the crafts at the camp. We made bracelets, bracelets and oh, more bracelets. Every night, the children gather after dinner into the hall for a group meeting of singing, skits and a talk. Our team stays for the songs (all in Albanian or Sheep as the language is called here) and skits. The children are so passionate and excited about singing to God and presenting their skits to the entire camp.

Although we have no clue what is being said, there is a feeling of love and God's presence in that hot and sticky meeting hall. Last night (Friday) was the last night at camp for this group of kids. We had dinner and they gathered in the hall for a slide show and skits. Outside by the trampoline and ropes coarse, us Americans and the Brits set up a bonfire to celebrate the last night. We lit the fire and all the kids came out from the meeting hall in tears. The entire camp gathered around the huge fire and sang and hung out for about 25 minutes. Almost every single of the 130 kids at the camp were sobbing. I think this emotion struck all of us and proved that this week is so important and memorable to them (Just a reminder how important our presence is here).

This morning (Saturday), the entire team except for Isaac and I, went out on hike for about 2 hours. Isaac and I went back to the camp to help Seth on the roof (they are building a new roof on part of the camp). We installed fiber glass as insulation for the building in the heat of the morning. Never been so itchy and uncomfortable before! Then we all meet back at the house and went to a fabulous meal in town. Now, we are resting and waiting for a thunder storm to clear so we can head back to camp and go on the ropes course. Tonight, there is a yummy dinner and some traditional Albanian dancing on our schedule! So excited!

I can't tell you all how much fun I am having here. I have never felt such a sense of community and simplicity before and it is so refreshing. We have befriended almost everyone we meet from other American's, the Brits or the Albanian's. We all have found friends outside of our group and its so wonderful how close people get in such a short amount of time. I can't believe we only have about a week left but I am going to enjoy every minute of it. Shout out to Kel, the parents, Ella and Lib.  Missin you guys and my bed!

Mirapafshim (goodbye in Albania)

If you want to see photos and other updates, go to the Albania Blog, here.

Allison Krauss - Simple Love

A friend just sent me this video.  Now I am a complete mess.  This is beautiful.  Simply beautiful.

(And now, in November 2012, as this song came on Pandora at my office, I am thinking that the lyrics of this song reflect my prayers that my might life might reflect this kind of fatherly, simple love)

Off to Albania, The Family Tradition Continues

This afternoon, we put younger daughter on a plane (ok, really a church van, that was going to the airport) to that wonderland of eastern European vacation spots, Albania.

For those of you who have suffered along with this blog for more than two years, you may remember that this is Daughter Number Two to pick this lovely location for a summer mission trip.  We are completely pleased.

Daughter will be traveling about 5,700 nautical miles from home; LA to London to Tirane.  But maybe she will be doing a whole lot more traveling than that.  It’s not just about a different culture, or people who speak a different language.  Maybe it’s about exploring the world, and really about learning about two crucial things.  Thing 1: God’s love for ALL of the entirety of the world, including this place called Albania.  Thing 2:  Understanding more about God’s love for each of us, and what He may be doing inside our souls.

I am amazed by this girl.  When most of the kids her age are obsessing over the demise of Lindsay Lohan, or completely absorbed by their little local social circle, or finding ways to waste hundreds of hours on Facebook all summer, this girl wants to try something else.  Can she articulate to others her motivation for traveling more that ¼ of the way around the globe, just to hang out in a little country without the ability to flush toilet paper for two weeks?  It’s no Hawaiian vacation.  What is going on here? 

Maybe, just maybe, it’s what people refer to as “that still, small, voice” , calling her to serve and make a difference.  Even if it seems like a small difference.  Playing games with kids, sharing a laugh, going to church where you cannot understand a word but strangely get what is going on, making a meal, cleaning up.  Little things.  Little things that make a lot of difference.  You will never know how much your just showing up means to the folks where you are going.

But strangely, mysteriously, God’s economy is often not based on grand events, or things that change the world in a day.  His sense of what is important is usually found in the small events of life.  A smile, a hand up, really listening to someone, loving when it’s not easy.

And so, my prayer for this group of teens and leaders:  

God, go with all these great kids and leaders.  Give them a real sense of purpose.  Help them to understand what is going on, even when they have no idea what people are saying around them.  Build solid relationships of trust and service.  Keep them free from mishaps and injuries and funky germs.  But most of all God, give them lots of laughter, because it seems to me that so much of what your Kingdom is about is found in laughter.  We laugh because we know You are there in the laughter, and you love us more than we could ever imagine.  It’s amazing.  And for our girl, give her peace and joy deep inside her soul.  Fill her with enthusiasm, even in times when she would rather be napping.  Fill her heart with laughter.  Amen.

This 4th, This Land, Our Freedom

Tomorrow will be the 4th of July.  BBQs with friends, flags and bunting, a parade down Main Street.  Bikes festooned with red, white, and blue streamers.  Fireworks just after dusk.

But there is so much more going on here - and it really takes place in the ordinary of everyday.  Its the making of freedom, the slow forging of liberty.  Its the way we live our lives.  We get up, get dressed, go to work, care for the elderly and the less fortunate, and in the process, we make, hopefully, something good.

Today I came across a piece by my favorite columnist, Peggy Noonan, and it talks about words that were edited out of the Declaration of Independence: 

And so were the words that came next. But they should not have been, for they are the tenderest words. 

Poignantly, with a plaintive sound, Jefferson addresses and gives voice to the human pain of parting: "We might have been a free and great people together."

What loss there is in those words, what humanity, and what realism, too.

"To write is to think, and to write well is to think well," David McCullough once said in conversation. Jefferson was thinking of the abrupt end of old ties, of self-defining ties, and, I suspect, that the pain of this had to be acknowledged. It is one thing to declare the case for freedom, and to make a fiery denunciation of abusive, autocratic and high-handed governance. But it is another thing, and an equally important one, to acknowledge the human implications of the break. These were our friends, our old relations; we were leaving them, ending the particular facts of our long relationship forever. We would feel it. Seventeen seventy-six was the beginning of a dream. But it was the end of one too. "We might have been a free and great people together."

 A free and great people. And interestingly enough, all these years later, Britain and the US are again "a free and great people together" in so many ways.

This 4th I am thankful for my country.  But more than that, I am thankful for those men and women, now stretching back more than 234 years, who have lived and died and sacrificed to make this land one of the best places to live on the planet. 

May we not waste this legacy and heritage.  May we use it wisely in future years to bless this planet.

Dusk on the Hill

Up The Hill
A couple of weeks ago, Younger Daughter and I took a short car trip up a hill.  No big deal, but farther and deeper than I thought.

It was a late spring night, and for about an hour, up there on the hill, we just took it all in.  It was nice to have at least a few moments to disconnect from the routine and busyness of these days to enjoy something simple, like enjoying the simple pleasure of a sunset over  the city.  I can't remember the last time I took time out like that.

Daughter wanted to head up the hill and take in the sunset, and get some photos of it, from a lookout at her school.  I am not sure what motivated her to ask me, in the kitchen after dinner, if I wanted to go.  She had just finished her sophomore year, perhaps this mid-point of high school; a marker in the ground of sorts.  Parents:  when you get asked to do something like this from your fiercely independent kids, drop everything and just go.

Top of the Hill
At the top of the hill above the Rose Bowl, you are surrounded on three sides by the City of Pasadena and its suburbs.  As dusk settles in you can hear the low rush of the freeway below.  This world we live is in constant motion, rushing from here to there, never ceasing.  Standing above it all, I suddenly feel out of place - thinking that we had stepped out of that racing world below to a separate place, one of relative calm and reflection.  Above it all, if only for a while.

Am I like all those people down there on the freeway, rushing headlong forward, not perceiving what is really happening to me, letting life flow past me, and not learning?  There is so much going on around us in each moment, and we rarely take the time to stop and listen.  And wonder.

There I was on that hill above the city, in a place I could not imagine being even several short years ago, with a young lady taking pictures by my side who, its seems just yesterday, was just half as tall and confident as she is now.  Am I taking this all in? Do I know what is really happening in the mystery at the core of this life?

Over The Hill
Recently, I heard something on a podcast that has had me pondering, remembering my Dad, and reflecting on that night up on the hill.

It was a thoughtful conversation about the spirituality of Alzheimer's and aging, presented on Speaking of Faith.  Psychologist Alan Dienstag described his relationship with Anna, an Alzheimer's patient, who was at the point of forgetting almost everyone and everything in life.  They both shared a love of the beach, and Alan told his patient/friend Anna that he was going to be heading to the beach soon for vacation.  The beach, Anna thought, her face turning pensive.

Anna smiled, her face lit up, and after some thought she replied...."There is some kind of music that lives there."

In the fog of her mental decline, there was a mysterious place where Anna remembered the essence of being at the beach, and perhaps of this life itself.  The music that lives there.  Where did that memory come from, in a mind that everyone had just about dismissed as non-functional.  Perhaps it was a prayer. Its a place between knowing and not knowing. Its a mystery.

And there we were, up on that hill, taking in the sunset.  Dad, at nearly 52, and daughter at just more than 16, standing in the gathering dusk.

There was music living there too.

Remembering Coach

Last night, in the seventh inning of the Dodger game, longtime broadcaster Vin Scully informed the crowd via the scoreboard video screen that his friend John Wooden had passed away.

"Friends, I interrupt the ball game, and I come to you with a heavy heart," Scully began. "Those of us who knew him and knew him well are the ones who are blessed by his life."

Scully went on to quote Shakespeare: 

"His life was gentle, 

and the elements so mixed in him, 

that Nature might stand up and say to all the world, 

this was a man."

I had friend who was at that game.  This morning I found a text on my phone from that same friend, indicating that after Scully's announcement the fans at Dodger Stadium, nearly to a last man, and many of them in tears, rose to give Wooden a standing ovation.

......this was a man.  Indeed.

Incentives, Inschmentives!

You will need 10:48 to rethink the role of leadership and incentives in business, the church, and non-profits. Its worth the time, and entertaining. Go for it......

Seredipitous Evening of Memories

Friday night at 5 PM we got a call from friends who suddenly had happened upon 18 EXTRA tickets to see the Troubadour Reunion Tour of James Taylor & Carol King at the Hollywood Bowl.  Lived here all my life, and I still love living in LA, if for nothing else but stuff like this.

Nancy got on the phone, and rustled up 12 close friends, and off we went.  The concert time was 7:30, and we entered the Bowl (two rows from the very very top) right as the band took the stage. 

As we sat in the gathering dusk, eating cold chicken, crackers, and grapes, we listened to two of the icons of our generation.  It was beautiful.  Thanks to the wonders of YouTube, and illegal videos, below, please watch, for the few days before the lawyers shut it down, a moment from that evening.  This is the first encore. 

From the "If It Weren't So True" Department

This parody is another reason I feeling increasing sad about American Evangelical culture.


"Sunday's Coming" Movie Trailer from North Point Media on Vimeo.

Middle Life Reflections

Over the course of the past several years, I often find myself reflecting on this journey in life thus far. 

How did I get here, to this place, and where am I headed?  What will the road ahead look like?  And when the end comes, how will I feel about where I have been, and what little I might have accomplished?  These are the things that I think about, on occasion, when the softer and calm moments of life present themselves.

These times of introspection seem to come at the oddest turns, but usually in a more quiet place; alone in the car, walking the dog, or sitting on our back porch on a quiet Sunday afternoon reviewing the events of another busy week.

Last week, I was completely surprised by a moment such as this.  We took some friends to Disney Hall to see the LA Philharmonic, conducted by Gustavo Dudamel.  As an introductory piece, "The Promise of Living" by Aaron Copeland was played. 

Ever since I was just out of college I have loved the music of Copeland - which treats the history of our nation with such respect and tenderness.  For some reason, Copeland's music has always had a profound emotional impact upon me.  And so it was last Thursday, as I listened to the music of Copeland in a hushed Disney Hall.  It was if I had been lifted out of myself, for a few brief moments.  Transcendence.

As I sat in the dark, listening and reflecting on the events of the past several weeks, I was completely struck that my life is overwhelmed with blessing, and interwoven with remarkable people.  I also thought back to the events of the past several weeks. 

Time spent with friends, old and new, over coffee and lunches and dinners.  The blessing of brilliant team members at work, and, as part of that, being content in my soul with this recession and its impact on our work.  I reflected on the beauty and joy of my wife and daughters; how they daily amaze me. 

I thought of a good conversation with my daughter in the car - a chat about troubled people, and how we might respond to them in a caring way.  I remembered good friends, who are facing the lingering decline of a family member from an incurable disease, and the deep sadness that brings.  I recalled participating in a charity dinner for children with Down Syndrome, and then of our time at another fundraiser, supporting the amazing work of Young Life in our area. I was overwhelmed. 

For the past week, I have wanted to find a good video of the Copeland piece to share with you.  As it turns out, the best video I could find revealed to me that this music was, in fact, originally composed with words!  And the words.  Look below.  They fit perfectly.  For us all.

The promise of living

With hope and thanksgiving

Is born of our loving

Our friends and our labor.

The promise of growing

With faith and with knowing

Is born of our sharing

Our love with our neighbor.

The promise of loving

The promise of growing

Is born of our singing

In joy and thanksgiving.

For many a year I’ve know these fields

And know all the work that makes them yield.

Are you ready to lend a hand?

We’re ready to work, we’re ready to lend a hand.

By working together we’ll bring in the harvest,

the blessings of harvest.

We plow plant each row with seeds of grain,

And Providence sends us the sun and the rain.

By lending a arm

Bring out the blessings of harvest.

Give thanks there was sunshine,

Give thanks there was rain,

Give thanks we have hands

To deliver the grain.

O let us be joyful,

O let us be grateful to the Lord

For his blessing.

The promise of living

The promise of growing

The promise of ending

Is labor and sharing and loving.

(Erik Johns)

Technology Can Be Beautiful

This video of the effect of the volcano in Iceland on air traffic is amazing. Wait until the end, to see the effect of London coming back online. And remember, each of those little dots of light represents a hundred or more people flying through the air in a steel tube. I love it!

First Church of Pastor Moron

This pastor is a complete fool, pandering to the culture in the most shallow way possible.  So are the Shiny News Persons interviewing him.  I am disgusted.

John 17 Reflections

Recently, this fellow asked me my thoughts about this passage from the book of John.  And so, this is what I replied, in an email today:

I have nothing smart to say or ask.  I am dumbfounded.  This prayer has always confounded me. 

I feel inadequate to receive it, just reading it.  Its as if I am listening to Stephen Hawking describe the nature of Dark Matter, or Einstein on theories of time.  Its like, for a moment, we are given a glimpse, in this out-loud prayer, of the essence of the forming of the cosmos - in terms of the relationship between Jesus and his Father.  It is too great to take in.

In short, I only understand vaguely what is going on.  The content and context here is too boundless.  These are the final farewell moments before Christ must face the Ultimate Question of death we all will face someday.  How does he spend these moments?  Praying out loud about his relationship with his Father, what he wants of his disciples, and words for us all to follow.  This prayer is very intimate stuff.  May we all be driven to a place like this.  More often.

Something very mysterious is happening in this prayer.  Jesus is not praying for himself to hear the words come out of his mouth, but for others to hear who are there.  What might the moments of this prayer felt like for those watching?  I can only imagine that it might be the most profound mixture of emotions we humans can feel in all of life.  The feeling of joy and tears at the birth of a child; those rare moments of epiphany in the voices of a choir performing sacred works, the brilliance of an unexpected sunset, the pain of a broken friendship, and the foreshadowing dread of facing the impending death of someone we love so dearly.  All these things, all together, at one time, rolled together as we sit closely and watch Jesus pray. 

We try to open our mouths to respond, but nothing comes out.  This must be a moment for silence - in the way that nature affects us most profoundly when we stand in the alpine forest and absorb the calm.  There is deep meaning in our quiet reflection of the words of Christ.

Maybe part of understanding is to read this prayer over enough that it has a chance to sink into our souls, and affect the way we move forth into the word, and in turn, love others for Christ.  Can we take the time?  Can we really let it sink in?  Can we, will we?

I still feel inadequate.