Previous month:
February 2010
Next month:
April 2010

I am back in Europe, waiting for my plane to Frankfurt. My world is slowly changing as I sit in Amsterdam, the myriad of voices around me speaking in a myriad of languages. Perhaps that is the strangest thing about the US when I return there--only English.

Yes, I hear a few other languages--Spanish, Russian, some Asian languages. But it they are few. Here in Europe, English is in the minority, whereas Dutch, or German, or French, or ? is heard more often. English stands out to me!

Soon I'll be moving in the area of only Russian and Romanian, where even a word of English is like a verbal shout. But I'm glad I'm heading home to that place. Glad to be back in my element.


The Early Morning

I leave tomorrow morning in the middle of the night, heading back to the US for some services (and a wedding).  I really hate being away from the family, even for two weeks.  I guess it is worth it for us though, as an opportunity to share about the Home of Hope, raise some funds for the next few months, and reconnect with some churches. 

But I always get a little anxious before leaving, knowing that I still have a myriad of details to finish, things to buy, and stuff to get prepped for departure.  I haven't thought about packing, I need to show Elissa how to download their Amazing Race program, and I need to write out a list of tasks for Gheorghe for the next two weeks.

But it is 5:30 am.  I woke up early today, just needing the extra time to get things ready.  I love the quiet of the morning.  I try to sneak out of the room without waking Nancy, closing all the doors to the kids room, and then let out the dogs.  Hopefully they don't do their early morning shakes until I get the door closed so they don't wake up the kids.  I started the coffee, sweet Obsidian Caribou coffee sent by our friend John.  Usually by the time I've finished making the coffee, the dogs are ready to come in.  Britta (the German Shepherd) crashes again by the basement door, while Grace (the miniature Schnauzer) jumps up on the couch.  She is gently snoring as I write.

I have my favorite rocking chair.  The skies are dark, with just a hint of lightening to the darkness.

And all is well.

I can read my Bible (though I forgot it this morning upstairs).  I like to read a challenging book, or just sit and enjoy the silence.  If it was warm enough to crack the window, I'd hear a dozen roosters from the neighborhood, countless dogs, a few stupid cats yowling after their night prowling.  I might even here the early morning bells from the Orthodox church, glad every time that I don't live across the road from it!

But all is well.

Morning is my reset time, where I try and enjoy the moment.  I want to carry this peace throughout my day, no matter the anxieties that attempt to invade my mind.  I want to remember that what is truly important is this...a time with the Lord, the solitude and quiet of the dawn, and the knowledge that all is well with my soul.