Saturday, January 4, 2025
Remember 25 years ago at the turn of the century? Many Westerners were in a panic because the world might come to an end? After January 1, 2000, when the predicted computer meltdown didn't happen, they were eating or tossing a year's worth of canned and dried goods.
Here we are 25 years later.
And when COVID hit, business, socializing, and travel paused and many people died, yet the world kept spinning. 5 years later, most of us hoped we'd be back to normal. That's happened for very few people.
Here we are 5 years later.
Yet, "it's not over until it's over." The one who gets to decide the beginning and end of time is God. I'm happy to put family, my work, and myself in his hands this new year. I feel a bit nostalgic for our hometown of Chilliwack this morning. (Photo of the Hope Slough, near my parents' house.)
Our tropical garden is dry and needs watering. The poinsettias we dug into the garden are wilting. We tell PakG: watch those flowers. When they droop, the garden needs water. We get a sprinkle overnight but it's not enough to hydrate the ground under the hot sun.
Apparently this year the rainy season is back to when it used to be. Our older friends told us, "Months ending in -ber are when the Bandung rains come." For the past few years, rainy season has been late or early. This year it's back to -ber months.
The flowers are thriving and the yard is colorful. The tall yellow blooms grow 6-8"/15cm-ish per week. They look like cosmos but are something else. I gathered their seeds on a hike years ago. Now there are nearly always a few plants lifting their sunny heads toward the sky.
W picks up extra bins for the remaining Christmas decor. I pull in some paintings and books to warm up the main room. I unroll the Pakistani tapestry (1X2m/3X6') that we found in the Old City of Jerusalem.
The Arab traders called out, "Madam, please buy from us. This was specially handcrafted by my Palestinian mother/sister/grandmother" .... except that the tapestries were obviously cobbled together from Pakistani and Indian saris. They were hardly done by Palestinians!
We joked with the sellers and haggled over the price. I didn't care who made it then and don't care now. I still like it, 14 years later. The sequins sparkle in the afternoon light.
John and Lisa treat us to lunch at Ethnic. The discussion is lively. What a pleasure to have friends who enjoy deep conversations and sharing life.
W and I walk home as thunder rolls across the hills. The wind kicks up. It gets darker and darker; I make myself a cup of cocoa and flip lights on in the house. The ground could use a good rain. We listen for the hiss of water on leaves. Here it comes! the volume rising and falling as clouds scud by overhead.
W and I read through tomorrow's talk one more time. How precious is the family of God - that's what we'll be discussing.
Sunday
We talk about what it means to be part of God's family - and what healthy human families look like. For lunch, I heat up leftovers, cook creamed spinach and garlic mushrooms, and use my auntie's
Spätzle-maker to make homemade noodles.
MondayFinally, I create the survey for my upcoming book about parents of expats: I may call the book "Left Behind."
Jane comes for a cup of tea before lunch. Then W and I catch a ride down the hill to a new Middle Eastern restaurant. Menu items range from $1.75-6.00. You can order trays for parties, too. "And delivery is free," says the server.
I like their
biryani rice and stewed beef as well as the
schwarma (Middle Eastern burrito). As we enjoy the meal, we discuss upcoming plans and personnel. W hops out for another meeting partway up the hill when we finish.
In our garden, the gardenia shrub has begun to bloom again. I clip a flower to scent the house.
More spectacular is the arrangement Titik created with her garden flowers!
The house is finding its way into the new year, just as we are.
This afternoon, we re-sort and properly store Christmas items so they can be found next year or sold if we move to a smaller place. After last week's Christmas piles are lifted off a wool rug, it gets hauled down to the reading chair. Small details (even a carpet) make a big difference in a room.
The rug was crocheted by an Oregon crafter 25 years ago, using scraps from the Pendleton wool mill. I've always disliked the mashup of dull colors. It's an ugly item I've never regretted buying; I delight in its comfort as I curl my toes into it.
I'm tied up much of the day - checking off to-dos, writing instructions, canceling or postponing events, and chatting with leaders about this and that. W asks me to edit several chapters before he sends them to his book editor.
I start but don't have the stamina for a long session. "Is this what you want?" I ask, sending W the edits partway through. Apparently, yes. Tomorrow is another day.
Tuesday
After a lousy night's sleep, I edit another of W's chapters. We eat breakfast at #NaraPark and work through several meetings. I get great feedback on improving my book survey, too. Thanks, Colleen.
The sun's out most of the morning, which is nice as we drive to get groceries. At the top of the supermarket escalator, the French doors are wide open to the warm breezes. In January. Need I say more?
The dogs are happy when I empty the fridge of leftovers and W mixes it all together. They gobble it down: it's more interesting and nutritious than dog kibble.
I sit in the reading chair to send the last few messages of the day. There's one more meeting in the late evening with a spiritual advisor before it's off to bed.
Read more:*Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. Isaiah 60:1*He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. Psalm 23:2-3
*You were going astray like sheep, but now you have returned to the shepherd and guardian of your souls. 1 Peter 2:25
Moravian Prayer: Shepherd, guide us to the abiding place you have for us, the green pastures of our soul. Guide us to places where peace and joy may be found. We are your flock and happy to be yours. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.
