Today is the first Sunday in Lent. To me, it’s nice to know that today most Christians around the globe enter into a time of reflecting on and honoring the sacrifice that Jesus made for us by dying on the Cross. We willingly choose to think about His suffering for a few weeks so we […]
The large, strong and confident hands of the blind massager who worked me over for an hour while I tried to figure out whether I was crying for the sheer joy of experiencing long-over-due non-sexual touch or the hilarity of such an incommodious setting for a massage…horns honking, Chinese business men shouting at their assistants on their cell phones (while they were getting a massage!), the audio timers used by the blind to keep track of their hour. I still haven’t figured it out.
The wonderful spot where I stop on my morning walk that is flanked by the five-star Sofitel Hotel to my back, wretched shanty town of poor construction workers out in front and just before me the stagnant backflow of the Tonle Sap River. The sun is usually rising just at this point and it feels like the most beautiful spot on earth to me these days.
Finally, after five weeks of negotiations, reaching a place of agreement on contract details for a large design project. The metaphor of this process being like a dance means that we got through the first song, stiff and clumsy, stepping on one another’s toes, grateful for it all to end. Now we are clapping and can’t wait to get off the dance floor only to discover that we have to dance the next song as well, as in actually do the job we bid for. Counting on ‘practice makes perfect’ kicking in here somewhere. Several of the dance partners pictured above.
76 year old Doris as she shared her testimony of seeking meaning in all kinds of settings in secular Germany, until at the age of 44 a Holy Land Israeli tour guide who pitied her because she could not accept Mystery so challenged her that she became truly open to God’s revelation of His Son. She glows as one being renewed inwardly every day.