French Impressions

Paris was once described to me as the ultimate de je vue experience. There is so much we know about the city from movies and other forms of media that if we set foot in the place, hypothetically, it should feel like we have been there before. Mid-June I put my Pepe Le Pew Loony Tunes knowledge to the test, and went to see if my pre-concieved notions of Paris were accurate. Naturally, I found some were very close, and some were not.
The ones that were not: Strawberry Parfait was supposed to be more common in Paris than snotty-nosed kids at play school, or so I thought. But I did not find an abundance of this ice cream dish during my exploration. The lack of beret wearing was a bit disappointing as well, the only people wearing berets were clearly tourists, and not some avande garde artists smoking cigars.
The things that were: The Eiffel tower was more than I expected. I don't think I would readily spend several hours queing for my turn to get to the top of the tower again, but I was impressed by the beauty of the tower's architecture, and the view of the city from the top was breathtaking. The Louvre was amazing as well, and it made me happy to walk through a sliver of it.
Something I had no pre-concieved notions about, and that made an impression on me was the Metro, Paris' underground transportaion system. I found it all to be a bit surreal- the weak ultraviolet lights doing little to cheer up the grey tone in the belly of the subway train. The greasy poles that you have to hang onto to maintain your balance (and to keep you from falling over and taking out all the people in front of you), and the smell around you, which is a mixture of the smell of perfume and people whose daily hygene ritual doesn't always necessarily include showering.

The Sun Runs Its Course

Last week I witnessed a stunning sunset from my perch on a hill overlooking Benone, Northern Ireland. I think sunsets are proof of God's loving-kindness. I mean, He could have made darkness come to us at night like He flipped off a light switch, but He didn't. Instead He gives us fair warning everyday that is's going to get dark. And He could have chose to make the sun dim down like one of those chandelier living room lights, you know the one with the roundy kind of knob on the wall, but again, He didn't. Instead, He usually accompanies the sunset with radiance of color, phenomenal clouds, astounding variations of shade, and the shifting of shadow. I suppose He could have also reserved sunsets for the days when we really pleased Him, where we gave our 100% for Him and sacrificially and altruistically gave of ourselves to others, but He didn't do that either. He provides sunsets on the days that we failed Him, played the harlot and forgot Him, over-stuffed our egos, and revealed the miniscule quantity of love that we actually possess. He gives us sunsets everyday. He is a kind God. He loves us.

Packin' the Dayz

It is amazing to me how much one week can contain. I feel like a month was tightly rolled and squeezed into the last few days. Last week's occupation was counseling for a girls camp. Many of these hoody clad females were between the ages of 8 and 10, and were bused in from inner city Dublin. At the end of the week, having looked around at the other bleary eyed leaders, I can safely assess that I wasn't alone in my a-week-is-a-month feeling.
Several things happened that I still don't fully understand. I don't understand how one little girl can go so rapidly from smudging out my name on a banner Sunday night, to giving me sweet cards with red crayoned hearts on them Thursday night. I don't understand why a girl would refuse to touch a dirty (but scraped) plate, when her hands are immersed in hot soapy water. I don't understand how so many girls can be friends one minute, and so violently at each other's throats the next. But that's okay. I suppose those are the type of things that puzzle you when you are in rehash mode.
There are several things that I do understand about the week, and they tend to make me smile. It makes me smile to think about the little girl who was so grateful for learning how to swim on Wednesday, and it makes me smile when I think about getting to teach the girls from my tent a few new songs. It also makes me smile when I think of the two girls that gave their life to Christ towards the end of the week. I think those are the things that make packed days worth it, and it is where I need to choose to let my thoughts rest.

Boogie Bogging among the Blogs

Most people, perhaps, would think of a blog as a digital space for the display of noble and mundane thoughts for bored people to read. Others might view it as a launching pad for discussion, or would simply use it as a place to list their Top 10 favorite BBQ Sauces. But little do they know about the Blogs of Wicklow Co., Ireland. Smelly, hairy creatures, who lurk in the the mossy ivy-shrouded forests. Forests that are hedged in by thick scraggly vines and prickly plants that draw blood to the careless explorer. It is here in the forest, near swampy waters filled with lethal looking eels and ill-looking frogs, that the Blogs live. Not many people have ever seen the Blogs, because they only come out at night... and they have red eyes... and sharp teeth... and they like to feed on [insert shrill scream in the background]... popcorn. Blogs love popcorn! And they have horrible episodes of insomnia which makes it difficult for them to sleep. Thus, the red eyes! If you would like to help the Blogs battle their insomniac tendencies, and assist the medical world in finding a cure, please post your check to...
I'll stop there. :0)
Just had to write something random for my first post.