Sometimes hidden from me
in daily custom and in trust,
so that I live by you unaware
as by the beating of my heart.

Suddenly you flare in my sight,
a wild rose blooming at the edge
of thicket, grace and light
where yesterday was only shade,

and once again I am blessed, choosing
again what I chose before.

-Wendell Berry

I'm about 90% sure this was written for his wife, but I feel it speaks volumes about Jesus, or at least my life with him. Some days I spend the whole time existing in my own little world, forgetting that I've given my life to something much bigger. Meaning I'm completely detached from what this means in all of my interactions with the things and people around me. My thinking becomes rational, my actions become selfish, any hope for something greater, or something more, is compromised. But how lucky that the Lord doesn't let me swim, or drown, myself in this world! It's never long before something happens or I have an experience I couldn't have manipulated myself and I'm reminded of the worldview I bank my life on.

It's been two months since I've last written. How has it been two months? And it's August 19th, nearly the end of summer. I say it a lot, and surely sound redundant, but how has time gone so fast? It's also been one year since Brooke and I arrived to Amsterdam. We went out for a celebratory dinner, stroll through Vondelpark, and glass of white wine last night and tried to reflect on our lives and how we've changed this year. It's almost impossible to do so though. It's too close still, I think. Everything still feels fresh, a whole year later. Perhaps it's good to be settled in a city (relatively of course, since everything will change within weeks) and not feel like who I am is settled. I'd probably be bored, or boring for that matter.

I managed to write 20,000+ words between going to Iceland and spending two weeks in England this summer. I'm not sure how it happened, but miraculously I had produced pages upon pages of theoretical and empirical research. It was exhausting, really. But! In a desperate attempt to obtain respondents, Brooke and I visited a local mosque that is the talk of Europe (at least in circles that discuss things like integration and religion). The mosque is young and still discussing their positions on topics like mixing men and women, so we not only got to hear a teaching but also sit in on a conversation between the women about how they should relate to the men and the community. Fascinating, really. But more importantly, we were welcomed with typical Moroccan hospitality by the sweetest Moroccan-Dutch girls. "The sisters" as they are now referred to. Being able to be a bridge between the Muslim and the Christian communities was a dream, but it's really a gift to have such dear friendships come from it. Since our meeting at the mosque we've spent several days together talking about being women and being believers in God, and some of the sweetest conversations I've ever had about faith. Funny that an act of desperation can produce such a gift.

I want to talk about Jesus now but have a date with Leanne. I'll keep that for the next post...