I am so grateful

thankful, appreciative, filled with gratitude! Today I returned to the wonderful Sky Ranch school programs department. When I was in France, I got a few emails from the leadership here at the Ranch and everything just fell into perfect place.

First, there was an empty spot for me because one of the new staff can't come until January.

Second, the leadership offered me the same room and board that the Sky Ranch interns have.

So basically, while I am here in the U.S. my Sky Ranch family is taking me in, providing me a home, and helping me work and provide support so that I can return to France.

And finally, the most incredible fact of all! I get to return and work with some of the best people in the world. With my friends! There are a lot of new faces in the Outdoor Education department but everyone is so amazing.

Driving to work this morning, the full moon still hung in the sky casting moonly light into the morning. The colors of dawn morphed from deep blue to absolute liquid gold. The trees were vividly green in the morning light. The temperature was cool and refreshing. I could wear one of my favorite scarves quite comfortably. When I arrived at work, each hug from each person just filled me with so much joy.

All I could think... "Lord, I love you so much! Thank you so much. I can't believe that I get to work here while I raise my support."

I'll remember this later. when the floor drops. it will remind me to keep breathing. but right now... all I can think is

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

there is no title to this blog...

because I'm not exactly sure where this subject will lead me. It starts like this: recently I had a thought.

This thought entered into my head for two reasons.

In the Musee d'Orsay this week, which I visited twice, I wondered the large halls and exhibit rooms. In total awe. Of course, there are the famous names...Monet, Manet, Van Gogh. (the last of these, left me speechless, in person his paintings hit you in the face with vividness and dimensional gobs of color). Each piece was a marvel, yet I was especially drawn to the depiction of death in the art. Don't know why.

Very negative imagery. Skeletal figures. dark shades. eyes clouded with fear. death if symbolized by a figure was ugly. it had talons. its victims were martyrs.
When I looked at the date of each piece...I noticed that each was from the last century or earlier. None later than 1920's.

Reason #1: Seeing death portrayed in art from the last century

Then I started to think about a line of poetry from Ryler Dustin, from the book Glenn let me read this summer.

"Look out for Ryler.
I overheard that kid talking to himself
for the first time in eight years
about how suicide is starting to sound
like another word for clean"
-from Blackbirds

Reason #2: I started to think about how death is depicted in our generation

...mostly in music.
The New Frontiers...
"Baby scream when they are bored,
So I'm not afraid of passing on"
-from Passing On

This song is not about taking your own life...I think it might be more along the lines of being willing to let go of life when the time comes...But the point is...death isn't so shrouded in darkness as it once was. Is this a blessing? a hope for us? or can it also be a curse?

either way... death is thought about differently in our generation. J.M. Barrie's Hook took the stage in 1904. The start of a new century. An age of technology. and Captain Hook says, "Death is the only great adventure I have left..."

I began to wonder.

The thought: Has all the mystery of the world been lost in our technological age?

Is there anything left to explore in life? Unknown lands. Unexplainable feelings? Unsearchable questions? Or do we explain everything to such an extent... that we are left curious about the only truly unknown that all of us will experience: death.

maybe some would admonish me...

Admonishment #1: there is plenty of mystery in the world. a ton of things unknown. but my argument would be... that to the average person. It is easy to forget that. when you live in a concrete jungle. in education systems that explain everything with the scientific method. with psychology that even explains your feelings. you have to escape from this to find mystery. not all people have that much gumption...

Admonishment #2: death isn't such an unknown after all. As Christians, we go to heaven to be with God. That isn't unknown, is it! but do we have even a fathom of what that will be like! only imaginings.

I was thinking about this all week and today something happened. I am staying at my mom's house. One of the neighbor's daughter committed suicide.

She chose death.

I guess it just looked too good. has it always been this way... or is our generation making it look better than before. It is so horrible. this choice has cast a net of darkness that hurts people far beyond even those she knew.

The "bridge" building at camp was once partially demolished by an avalanche in the 1960's.  It was rebuilt... but is still essentially 150 years old.  It looks like an old stone barn.  Enter this building and you will find a small twisting wooden stair.  If you ascend these stairs you will find four tiny offices.  In the third office on the right, right now, you would find 5 people on computers.  Including myself.  Even though this space is only 10 feet wide.

Like my comrades, I am enjoying some new free time.  Family camp ended today.  The French families were wonderful.  Although, I was really intimidated by them at first.  My French is much better than it was 10 days ago.  Today when each family left I couldn't help but wish I had a little more time with them.

I am currently in a state of mourning for my digital camera.  My beloved Nikon.  is .  dead.  c'est mort.  

I have repeatedly felt the sting of wanting to take a certain picture and remembering that my camera is gone forever.  and that it is my fault.  for trying to cross a mountain stream with the camera in my hand.  It was horrible... that moment I watched my camera flying through the air and felt the morbid splash of digital death.

I thought it had a chance when it dried out... but I was wrong... it officially died this week.

The day I dropped it in the water I took some truly beautiful pictures of mountain scenery. The picture above is one of them... from my camera's last hours of life.

It was strange saying good-byes today.  I was harder for me, because I feel like it is my turn to say good-bye next.  Only about two more weeks left.  My mind is starting to wonder about what I'll be doing when I get home.

I am even a little frustrated.  I have started to feel at home here, my French is coming along, I have grown closer in my relationships with French friends...and now...stop everything.   

Time to go back home... for a bit.  

Time to transition into a whole new world again.

Time to attempt explaining to people what happened here and find I don't have the words.

Time to get frustrated with people because they really won't care to hear about everything that happened here.

Time to miss out on the relationships I have been carefully building on here.

I guess it is also time to see wonderful loving...

family

friends

possibly sky ranch OE kiddoes

consume a few....

Dr. Peppers

Mexican food dishes

pieces of sushi

and I have a lot of work to do!  It's time to get others involved in this enterprise.  

So much work to be done.  

For now...I am about to board a bus for 5 Euro and 10 centi.  Arrive in Grenoble later tonight.  Stay with one amazing Candide and a sweet and spunky Australian named Jess.  Hopefully, eat delectable French cuisine on Candide's balcony in the dusky evening light.

and we'll all think about the beauty of being the children of God.

a time to pause

This blog has been so neglected, but for good reason.  The last month I have been fully engaged in an English camp for French youth... and it has been lovely.  We had two camps.  One for youth under 18 and one for adults 18 to 30.  The last Peugeot (French car brand) left camp completely stuffed with luggage.  With their bags and packs, the last campers left and I felt a little hollower.  Last night, we pulled mattresses onto the soccer field to gaze at the night sky and shared thoughts, stories, and cups of tea.  A pattering noise suddenly loomed in the distance and suddenly rain fell and chased us indoors.  glanced at the clock and it was 4am.  it was unfortunate that I had to wake up at 6:30 to help make breakfast... or so I thought... when I emerged from my cave and spied the most beautiful early morning clouds.  French baguette and warm chocolate milk helped battle the angst of fatigue.  

Everyone left at camp has hidden away in their various holes to rest.  I am sitting on the stairs outside and camp seems to be a ghost town.  But it's really peaceful and gives me time to think.

I am so eager to start my year here in France.  I am trying extremely hard to learn something new in French each day (or should I say "chaque jour").  Quite a humbling enterprise.  Chaque jour I make some kind of hilarious mistake.  On morning, I meant to say... "do you like..."  and instead accidently professed... "I love you..." to one of the French guys.  I desperately wished for the gift of invisibility after that faux-pa.

There was also the time... I asked for the camper next to me to "pass the green beans" in french.  Too bad my pronunciation needs more work.  Instead I asked him to "pass the alcohol, please."  I guess that is not such a mistake here in France... libations flow freer... still... they got a good laugh.  

I have been sitting cross legged.  so the blood flow to my feet have been sufficiently thwarted... resulting in the unpleasant sensation that the French compare to a thousand ants biting you.  My camera battery is also running low.   So I am signing out for the afternoon... From this stone stair case... under the tree by the volleyball court, under these rocky cliffs, and alpine skyline.  Love to all.

P.S.  the birch leaves shimmer when the wind blows

on a hike

I'm still alive and blogging

So...it is camp...which means that it has been entirely too long since my last blog.  I am really too busy to submit something of substance now too.  I have about four minutes before dinner starts and I rush off to eat delicious French cuisine.  

I am going to write a truly entertaining blog and put it up here...sometime soon.  If anyone on the OE dream team reads this blog...I miss them!

living in a tent

I feel like an uprooted tree lately. On Sunday afternoon, I found myself at BRANGUS steak house in McAlester, OK. Squished away in a darkly light wooden booth, munching on onion rings which dripped with oil, I found myself feeling homesick.

(Notedly, the whole week I have been away from "home." I have been trapped...I mean...I have been privileged...to spend my recent days in small town in eastern Oklahoma. This town in so small, it doesn't even have a wall-mart. I am here for work and we've been busy running camps for about 150 students. playing games, shooting water guns, throwing oatmeal, teaching challenges, and listening to Jim Franks stories. One delightful refuge in the midst of this ilead fandango is the large and beautifully old Victorian home in which we sleep. Lyndsey and I have the best room. There are windows in the closet. A beautiful sitting room with windows in our room. AND a rocking chair. in which, I am rocking now as I type. )

but the feeling of homesickness startled me. I haven't felt that way in a very long time. A tight knot was tying itself in my belly. I felt transplanted. and the weirdest feeling of all, was the wonderment of trying to figure out exactly...Where is my "home?"

I don't feel at home in my parents homes. I usually feel at home at my apartment in Mineola, but my little abode is a complete wreck as I pack up to move out. All the faces of my life with OE this year have either left, or I am about to leave them.

I realized I was feeling anxious about the upcoming move to France and all the changes that are outside my control.

As much as I adore France, I haven't built myself a "home" there yet. (although I would like too!)

So currently I am a little "homeless." and I am wondering, will I ever find a place to rest my roots? or is my transient life a blessing in disguise?

Maybe I am an Abraham nomadically living and following God where He leads. Who knows where the next door will take me. I start to feel excited when I remember that. There are some surprising places yet to go. and there is a certain divine dependence that can only be learned living in a tent.