Alleluia

I cannot box up my alleluias. Don't try to make me. 40 days isn't long enough to mourn the loss of Jesus' life, and it is too long to do so year after year simply to make the inevitable more dramatic. I know from whence I came. I understand the power of dust and I crave its mark on my head as a symbol of community and life together. I long for it as an outward sign of the imago Dei that is within me.

There were healings, blessings and a triumphal entry during the last 40 days of Jesus' life.  There were late night dinners with friends, laughter and a lot of bread breaking. Yes, there was sadness and fear. Yes, I need forgiveness and no, I will not box up my alleluias.
S

Travel Well

There is an art to traveling well . . . a formula to packing perfectly. Experienced travelers know that besides money, food and water,  the things we must have involve prescriptions: medicine and glasses/contacts. Everything else can be purchased, borrowed or lived without.

I spent a lot of time traveling internationally in my twenties. I hit thirty countries before my thirtieth birthday. Every location was a gift that helped shape my growing world view.

In a spirit of remembrance, gratitude and dreaming . . . here is a list of favorite places. (People to follow.)

A hotel rooftop at sunrise in Mawlamyine, Burma.
The Baptist Church in Kidete, Tanzania.
The biggest campfire ever, In the Woods, Romania.
The floor of Lauran's apartment, Prague, Czech Republic.
A Bedouin tent, Wadi Rum, Jordan.

S

Thank you La Maison Boheme for the photo.