Moments in the Mist

Morning comes. Cool. Fresh.
Musing on the bench overlooking
A valley covered in fog,
The trees barely visible.

Sitting in the presence of my Lord,
Soaking up the fresh air,
Writing, reading, praying.
Waiting for an answer, for peace.

My perspective is obstructed
Just as the fog creates a vague
Outline of the trees before me.

I know there is a valley below;
Something larger at work
Than the dim shadows I see.

An intricate pattern
Designed by my Father.
One day the mist will lift,
And all shall be revealed.

Observations from Balconies

This past week I have been on two balconies observing the world below and seen an exhibit displaying photography taken from a balcony.

The first balcony was at a fundraiser for building a hope center in Afghanistan where Heather Mercer spoke.

• The old organ playing in the theater brought me back in time as I sat in the almost empty balcony observing the potential patrons below.
• Heather's expereinces, faith and vision for the future were inspiring. What she has been through, what she has done, and what she has a vision to do is amazing. I love to hear of young single women going out into the world and making a huge difference. It was truly inspiring.
• Observing people's interactions with each other and with Heather was calming. I sat for quite a while watching people as they filed out of the theater or waited in line to speak with Heather. She was so kind and enthusiastic in her interactions with these people. As I waited to speak with her, I observed more specifically that she was very intentional about learning and using people's names and inquiring about their story. Something I need to improve in my interactions with others.

The second balcony experience was observing life through the lens of Richard Misrach as he caprtured a beach from his balcony in Hawaii.

• His pictures had no horizon, so the perspective was new and intriguing.
• Some pictures captured several people lounging on a beach. It was facinating to see the actions of each person in the pictures as so natural, yet from a totally unnatural bird's eye perspective.
• Many pictures captured just one or two people lying on the sand - seemingly isolated and stranded.
• Other pictures captured the blue ocean with a lone floating person or two people clinging to each other. The photographs evoked the feeling of frailty in humanity, especially when isolated and surrounded by creation.

The final balcony of the week was on the second floor of a museum looking down on a live jazz band.

• A middle-aged couple danced beautifully to one of the songs, oblivious of everything but the music and each other.
• A man with an easel captured the two women in front of him as they talked together unaware that they were the subject of his drawing
• A man stood alone by the bar tapping his hand on the table in time with the music. Was he alone or just waiting for someone to return?
• A couple weaved in and out of the people who were polite about making room for them on the crowded floor.
• A father danced with his baby as his wife tried to make her child smile and giggle while she danced alongside.
• A young lady looked sad. Why had she come and what made her face so glum?
• A reflection of the hands of the piano player mesmerized me during one of his solos - their movement and the tones captured me in that moment.

What an interesting perspective - peacefully observing the lives of those below from a balcony.

The Longing for Simplicity

I have always had a longing for the simplicity of monastic life; a life devoted to prayer and service to God. The simplicity of a life scheduled around prayer, worship, solitude, and service, without much excess. A life of simplicity.

Simplicity: as I was sitting by the lake at the monastery, I heard the sounds of nature around me, yet there was a comforting stillness in this place. I realized I really enjoy this peaceful setting and remembered that I actually have such a place on my back porch that harbors a quiet, natural setting that I really ought to sit and enjoy the peacefulness of my backyard more often than I do currently.

Simplicity: a simple meal - soup and salad - eaten in silence. In this monastery, eating in the silent dining room, dwelling on God as the monastic chants played from the stereo tuning my heart, thoughts and prayers to God. I take for granted the time I have to pray and enjoy a simple meal in my own home. Too often I get on the computer or hurriedly eat standing up, but there is something restful about communing with the Lord as I partake of the daily food and His provision for my life.

Simplicity: the simplicity of saying the name of Jesus over and over again - always returning my thoughts back to the name of Jesus as one of the monks mentioned. In Nouwen's book "Reaching Out," he tells of a pilgrim who learned the Jesus prayer, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me." Over and over the pilgrim constantly repeats this simple prayer, as a breath, to open the man's heart to Jesus and come to Him as a sinner crying out for mercy and acknowledging His lordship in the man's life. Simple prayers - even in Matthew, which I read during my stay at the monastery, Jesus says "And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans" (Matthew 6:7, NIV). Then he teaches his disciples the Lord's prayer: simple, yet to the point. The simplicity of every moment and thought turning back to Jesus. Simple prayers expressing the deep yearnings of the heart.

Simplicity: singing the chant-like songs with the monks five times a day. They sing through the psalms, read scripture together, pray together, and continue to dedicate their lives and their time to the Lord. There was no harmony and only on occasion an organ accompanying the simple tunes that declared the power of the Lord and praised His name. Sometimes in the simplicity of these monks' songs, the focus turned off the music and turned onto the words being declared in these Psalms, tuning my heart to praise God in simplicity.

Simplicity: sitting in the beautiful courtyard alone, soaking in His presence, listening to the songs of birds and watching the leaves gracefully descend from the trees; distracted by a wandering goose, turning my thoughts back to the Lord again; reveling in the damp and quiet of the place after a light morning shower, nothing but birds' songs and the faint drip of excess water on leaves falling to earth; soaking up the freshness of God's creation. Then sitting on a bench under a tree as a storm rolled in, feeling God's power in the wind. Invigorating. Refreshing. Hearing the wind die down and watching the rains come peacefully as God replenished the earth. I love the simplicity of reading, praying, and listening to God as I see and hear the work of His hands in creation.

Simplicity: the simplicity of having very little. There is really very little on which we humans must live. Two times in my own reading and once in a reading of scripture during the morning service on the third day, came the story of Jesus sending out the disciples. He sends them out carrying very little to nothing, expecting that they will be provided for by people in the towns to which they travel. He knows the Lord will provide for them through the generosity of others or by other means. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus also urges those listening to not worry about food and clothing, but instead to seek the Kingdom of God, for the Lord will provide the rest. I have found God's provision to be so steadfast in my life, yet I hold on to many unnecessary things. As I return from the monastery, I feel the need to cleanse my life of those things in excess and live more simply on what is truly necessary in life.

There is freedom that comes with this kind of monastic simplicity. In this state of simplicity, I feel closer to the Lord. The distractions are fewer and my soul so quiet that I feel I can hear the voice of the Lord more clearly than in the normal every day tasks of life. As I reflect now on this time of peace and solitude, I long for such peace in my life, so I aim to take steps to simplify my life, continue to seek the Lord's will through prayer, and take time to enjoy those times of quiet solitude in order that I may hear His voice.

I will try to live in simplicity. Simple food. Simple clothing. Simple settings. Simple prayers. Listening for the Word of the Lord.

Three Walks

Walk One

I went with a friend to the Wallen See (a lake in Switzerland). We went walking along the coast of the lake with the lake below us and the mountains and green hills all around us. It was a pleasant walk, as we caught up on each other's lives over the last two years. At one point along the path we had to go through a cave of sorts (really more like a tunnel made out of the mountain). It was dark and damp inside and in one spot we had to put up the umbrella to avoid the constant dripping in the middle of the tunnel. My friend showed me a spot in the tunnel that opens up to the lake where he and his friends jump down a good distance into the water when they go swimming in the summer. The air was damp as we walked outside again and the wind cool, but the pace was brisk and we kept warm as we went along. We passed a large tall waterfall plummeting into the side of the mountain leading into the lake. We could feel the mist rising up from the waterfall. It was beautifully powerful with the excess water from the consistent rainfall over the previous days adding to its strength. We walked on, heading up a hill to a traditional Swiss chalet that now served as a restaurant and hotel. The outside was made of dark wood and red flowers grew on the window sills. We also saw huge, colorful roosters in the hen house next door. Inside there were many old paintings and photographs and an old tile fire place testifying to the years of history lived within those walls. My friend had coffee and I had tea as we rested from the climb to the chalet. Then we headed back along the shore enjoying the view around us and the finish to a pleasant walk with a friend.

Walk Two

It was the night before my father left, so Hannah, my dad, and I headed out after supper to walk to Lichtenstein, which was right across the Rhine. It was wonderful to walk together; talking, laughing and taking pictures. The sky was beginning its colorful dance into the dark of night. We passed through the town and crossed the bridge over the Rhine, stopping to take pictures of us standing in two countries at once, for the Rhine was the divider of Switzerland and Lichtenstein. One of the castles in Lichtenstein was illuminated, standing proud in the ever-darkening evening. We walked along the Rhine on the Lichtenstein side, all the while enjoying each other's company and taking photos of the mountains that surrounded us and the river that ran beside us. We crossed over a different bridge back into Switzerland, then rested on a bench, silently sitting together in the approaching darkness, treasuring this time before we had to part ways in the morning. Finally we got up and headed back through the town, thankful for the special walk we were able to share together.

Walk Three

After lunch, my grandfather, Opa, asked me if I wanted to go on a walk with him and my cousin Luis. I agreed, since it was my last day in the country and I wanted to spend some more time with him. We met at the bus stop around two and took the bus up the mountain to a town called Oberschaan. Opa then led us inside a small building which housed a red, self-run cable car. I had never seen one that was self-run before. We got in, closed the door, and Opa pushed the green button that pointed up, and off it went at a slow steady pace up the mountain. We rode over plush green fields, cows, and farm houses as the town of Oberschaan became very small below us. Finally we reached the top and the red cable car slowly glided into the station with fine-tuned precision. We got out of the cable car and Opa put money into a machine that spit out coins that would let us out of the station through a full height turnstile. The air was noticeably cooler at this altitude, but I knew the walk would warm us up. Towards the beginning of the walk we came upon a little playground called Heidi’s Land (the real Heidi-land – yes it is a true story and a real place – is actually a few towns over). There were large, carved figures of Heidi, Peter, and her grandfather, and a miniature cabin, which Luis, who is four, enjoyed climbing in. We stopped to let Luis play a while and have a snack of pears and chocolate, then we were on our way down the mountain to Oberschaan. It was so peaceful walking with Opa in the woods, seeing the mountain ranges over the trees that were looking down at us as we walked down the path. He pointed out trees whose roots had grown around and sometimes through these huge rocks in the side of the mountain; truly a phenomenon of nature. Luis was fascinated by the wild mini strawberries growing by the side of the path. He proceeded to pick and eat them with Opa’s permission. As we came out of the wooded area, we looked upon green fields, farm houses, and the towns below. Every where I looked I wanted to capture with my camera. It was breathtaking. We passed a stream, more fields and farms, some cows, and the pool that my grandfather and his friends used to walk up to and swim in as teenagers in the summer; all the while the town of Oberschaan grew larger in our sight. After a brief rest at a bench under a tree and an intake of more chocolate, we descended into the town of Oberschaan and waited for the bus to take us home. I was glad to have this time with my grandfather and will treasure always the walk through the land in which he grew up.

Cousin Time

I spent a fair amount of time with some of my cousins during my visit. Here are some of the memories that I have of my time with them.

• Playing with my little cousin Luis (4) with his tractors - he forever wanted to be "cutting" hay, because that is what the farmers around the town were doing at the time.

• Singing together with Aaron, Zippora, Hannah and a well played ukulele

• Walking around St. Gallen with Eveline, having a delicious lunch with her, seeing her very cool top floor apartment with a balcony and an excellent view right in the city, and going to see her work place where she is a programmer for a big bank in Switzerland

• Hearing Aaron and Jonathan play piano, drums and the ukulele and sing at a restaurant called Wilson, where I ate kangaroo and ostrich (very good by the way) and hung out with my aunt, uncle , Zippora and Hannah. Among the songs they played was a variation on "Sweet Home Alabama" called "Sweet Home Shaffhuse" (the town in which they live)

• Sitting in the kitchen and talking late at night with Res, Vroni, Zippora, Aaron, Angela, Joni, Benni, and Hannah

• Gallivanting around Shaffhausen with my cousin Zippora and Hannah, eating ice cream, doing a mini photo shoot by the Rhine, and looking at the lovely buildings and shops around the town

• Playing the dice game with my cousin Tobias, where he thoroughly beat us twice even though it was his first time playing that game
  

It was a grand time with all and it was very nice to catch up with some of my cousins again.

Redefining "Going on a Walk"

In Switzerland there is rarely such a thing as a short walk. Usually lasting about an hour at the least and usually including a hill or climb of some sort, this is what the Swiss mean when they say, 'Let us go on a short walk.' And so my father, Hannah, and I set out with the Roman ruins called Wartau in mind as our destination, which wasn't "too" far away. I had walked to Wartau from a different starting point a few years ago and it had ended up being about a 3 hour trip, so I was not sure what this walk entailed, nor if we would really get to Wartau or not from where we began.

We started out with umbrellas in hand because it had been raining on and off for a while that morning, and it did sprinkle a little at first, but then the sun came out and the weather was pleasant for a walk. We continued through the town and found a path that went in the direction of the ruins, passing fields, farms, houses and wild flowers. At one point we saw a bench tucked away a little bit off the path, all of us commenting on how it would be the perfect place to sit with a significant other and rest a spell.

On we trekked, occasionally stopping to take pictures of the beautiful scenery around us. We walked through a town where my grandparents had gone to school and sat to rest for a moment. Then determining to go on, we walked further, the sun still shining. At one point after this town, we came to a fork in the "Wanderweg" and decided to pick the path to the right, which led us on to an adventure that we would not have expereinced had we picked the path to the left.

The path to the right took us along a main road for a while and as we went around the bend in the road we saw Wartau sitting on top of the hill beckoning us to find a way to its stone walls, but we could not see a clear path to its shelter. My dad decided to cross a field (with no path through it, mind you) and see if there was a path across the bridge and behind a hedge of trees. After a few minutes he whistled to let us know we should follow him. Hannah and I hurriedly walked through the field with a bit of fear that we might be caught by a farmer, quickly crossed the bridge, and finally found my dad among some farm houses. We followed a path, but it started to lead away from our intended destination, so we doubled back and my dad boldly went up to ask some farmers if we could walk through their fields to get to what looked like the path leading to the ruins. They agreed and as we walked through the field, I thought "only in Switzerland," which may or may not be true.

We reached a path after trekking through the field. To the left the path went down the hill, and to the right it led to a vineyard - still no direct path to the ruins, although we were getting closer. We thought we saw a path leading to the ruins above the vineyard, so we decided to turn right and go through the vineyard, hoping that it was owned by the farmers who so graciously let us walk through their field. Going through the gate that led into the vineyard, we ascended the hill, weaving though the rows and rows of growing grapes, getting closer to Wartau and hoping we would reach the path that would lead us there. At the top we thought we might have to jump the electric fence, but one of us spotted an upper gate, through which we could exit.

This led us to another path, again to the left the path leading down aways and to the right leading upward, the Wartau looming above us. We turned again to the right, but soon that path led downward to the next town. So we stopped, took some pictures with the Wartau above us and essentially said this was as far a we could get because we could not find the direct path up to the ruins and so decided to head home at that point. It was discouraging to have come so close and yet not have reached our intended destination.

We walked sadly down the path, walking down the path to the left of the vineyard, all of the sudden coming upon the true path up the hill to Wartau. It cheered us considerably, and after about five minutes more we finally made it to the Roman ruins with quite an adventure behind us and a beautiful view of the valley before us. It felt so good to have reached the ruins after all the wrong turns leading to the wrong paths. We took lots of pictures inside the stone ruins, observing the number of floors that would have been in this fortress from the holes where the beams of wood once held the floors together and made this place liveable. Outside, the view was beautiful. It had snowed on the tops of the mountains surrounding this valley and some of the clouds were still lazily resting on the peaks. The valley below was green and peaceful.

After a bit of rest from the hour and a half walk to get to the ruins, we started home, this time taking a more direct route down the hill passing though the town near Wartau. We decided to take another route home (following some signs that pointed in the direction of our town). At this point it started to sprinkle again, so we were again glad to have brought our umbrellas and thankful for the sun that had been with us up until this point. As we journeyed home, we came upon the spot where we had encountered the fork in the road, this time coming from what would have been the path to the left. We realized that had we taken the path to the left we would have found Wartau much faster, but without the adventure of trekking through fields and vineyards. By the time we got back, my legs were tired and I was ready to sit for a while, but I sure would not trade the experience of yet another Swiss “walk” and the adventure of trying to get somewhere without any directions.

Family Reunion

The morning started with a beautiful two hour drive to Schaffhausen with the whole lot of us in two cars. The scenery was full of luscious green fields, mountains whose tops were still snow laden, and quaint wooden houses and barns. Almost the whole family (minus two cousins) gathered together first at a restaurant, where we ate a great brunch. The spread was incredible: fruit and birchermüsli; cheese, smoked salmon, salami, baloney, and bread; bacon, hash browns (Swiss style), and made-to-order omelets; and for “dessert” we had chocolate mousse, caramel pudding, and strawberry yogurt. The food was amazing and reconnecting with my cousins and aunts and uncles was wonderful too.

After the brunch, half of the clan drove to my uncle’s house, while the other half of us trekked through the city to the house – going through a fortress called Mounot. We climbed up to the top of the fortress and saw an excellent view of the city and the Rhein below. I love the leisure of being able to walk 15 or 20 minutes through a beautiful Swiss city to get to where we need to go. It truly is a pleasure that I miss when I am in the States. At my uncle’s house we sat around catching up with each other for a while and eating more dessert.

A couple cousins, my sister, and I sang a jazzy Happy Birthday song for my grandmother (who turned 80) accompanied by the ukulele. Hannah then yodeled, which started the Schmidt brothers and sisters singing through different yodels with their mother (my grandmother). It was so special to hear them sing together as a family and join in with a few songs that I knew. We then watched a slide show that my dad put together of old photos coming into the present. Hearing the siblings talk about the funny stories and memories that the pictures evoked was great to sit back and watch. It was so relaxing to be with the family and I thoroughly enjoyed the company and reconnecting with my cousins again – making plans to see some of them again before I leave. I’m sad that I cannot stay longer, but such is life… It does prompt me to think about when I can come back for longer, though...

A Little Night Music and a Little Morning Music

Last night my dad and I went on the train to Zürich. We traveled next to an older gentleman and his sister. My dad talked with the older gentleman (he had immigrated to Canada and become a farmer and was visiting his sister and other relatives back in Switzerland) while I tried to finish knitting the shawl for my grandmother's birthday on Sunday. It was a peaceful ride and good to be back on European trains - with their comfortable seats and the beautiful scenery... This is a trip I have taken many a time before, so the memories of many pleasant trips filled my mind.

In the busy Zürich station we ate a the best bratwurst and servela with bread (a tradition - at least once I eat this when I am in Switzerland - and very often in the Zürich train station). Watching the youth with their painted hair and unique clothing hang out and the business people walk by in their suits in the hustle and bustle of the old train station gave me a sense of the old and the new meeting together in an odd fashion. I also was saddened by the lack of hope and direction in the youth that I saw.

After our supper, Dad and I braved the rain, walking down the river to the church where the Chagale stain glass windows reside, to listen to a concert. My aunt was in the choir that performed Mozart's "Requiem." The music was beautiful and the setting in the old cathederal was ideal. Seeing my aunt perform in the choir reminded me of the great musical heritage that comes before me. It was lovely to hear this night music.

This morning for breakfast (and at almost every meal here) we sang a prayer in a round. These songs were taught to my father and his siblings by his parents; and his siblings and he, in turn, taught their children these prayers, so continuing the tradition of music and prayer in the family. They are wonderful songs proclaiming God's faithfulness in His creation and in His provision every morning. I always enjoy these times of heralding in the morning with these songs.

Another treat this morning was that my sister and I heard alpine horns being played and we followed the sound around the town and found four men playing alpine horns on the street for someone's birthday. I love hearing random live morning music. It truly is a wonder to stay in this country and experience the unique music created here.

The Wind in der Schweiz

The wind in Switzerland is calm and cool at times, and at others is wild and rainy like last night. This morning the farmers put "fresh" fertilizer on the fields, so the wind is carrying these "fresh" wafts through the open windows of the house. Ahhh, as "fresh" as it is, I really do find some comfort in the familiar smell of the fields of Switzerland.

My time here thus far has been relaxing. Spending time with my grandparents who are definitely aging, going on walks around the town, sitting in the sun eating cherries picked off my grandfather's cherry tree (the best ever), hanging up laundry in the sun to have it dry in mere hours (smelling so fresh), eating excellent Swiss bread and cheese, going to a Bible study with many international women at the International Church nearby, playing volleyball with some of Hannah's friends, playing hide-and-seek with my four year old cousin, talking with my aunt, waking up to the sounds of birds and church bells, opening the window to the view of the green valley and the mountains looming above, knitting while Hannah reads to me, and taking time to walk and talk with my dad.

Life is so different here. Much more laid back and relaxed, yet almost set in the old Swiss ways. From the architecture to the luscious greenery found everywhere; from the laid back way people eat their meals to the friendly way people greet as we pass each other on our walks; from the tiny cars everyone drives to the decorations in the houses; and from the fresh food picked every day in the garden to old fashioned ways of farming seen around this town, I love living in this culture, soaking up the freshness of every day, breathing in the wonderful fresh air all around, and relaxing in the comfort of family and familiarity.

A Change in the Wind

Change is coming. I can feel it. I am searching for what I need to change in me - in my life - in my time management - in what I do day in and day out.

Change - inevitable.
Change - avoided, because the comfort of the known is so dear.
Change - dreaded, because the unknown is so unclear.
Change - welcomed, because it means new adventures, new growth, new things to learn.

Change - there is ONE who never changes - so I rest in the knowledge of Him - who holds me in His hands - and realize change can come and go, just as the wind, but I can lean on the unchanging ONE for strength in the midst of the storm.

Where to Go from Here

The door has closed (for now). Do I continue to press, knock, pound, pursue? Do I say "thank you for giving me time to rest"? What is the next step? Wait. I know the Lord has a plan, so I place my trust in Him. There is a reason even for this closed door, or posponed opening of the door. So I wait, resting in His arms, trusting that there is more to be revealed in the near future. What lies ahead? I don't know, but I am excited to see what the Lord will do this summer.

Back from Infinite Going

I'm back from infinte going... Going to Europe, going to work, going to see friends, going to concerts, going to cook, going to grade, going to read, going to sew, going to sing, going to church, going to homes, going to visit, going to chaperone, going, going, going... Where am I going next? I don't know, but I keep going, going, going. Will I learn how to rest? I thought I had, but in reality, not really. So I go, go, go... Go we like wind... what is next? do I have time to reflect? Perhaps this will be the time and place to reflect - to evaluate - to prioritize my going - and then maybe one day - I will be able to breathe - rest - wait - until the Lord tells me to go again...