Here we are mugging Shakepeare’s Globe Theatre in London. It’s a replica, of course, but built about two hundred yards from where the original was excavated. The pillars in the background aren’t stone, they’re 400 year old single trees painted to look like marble. Many are older than the original Globe itself.
I had several pictures of the Olympic Complex to show you, and if you like, I still will.
Here’s one. That funny looking observatory sculpture, that to me still looks like a work in progress. It stands watch over the Track and Field center, the Aquatics and Water Polo centers as well. Looking at this mess, I found it to be profoundly depressing and impermanent. Is there really nothing else to be done with these structures besides knocking them down for car parks and block condos? Sad.
So I’ve been thinking a lot about permanence today. Mainly, that there’s not a lot of it in this world. As always, I seem to land in Scripture. Funny how that works. I mean, Jesus talks a lot about all kinds of relevant life issues.
In the book of Hebrews, chapter 13 I think, it’s claimed that he is the “same yesterday, today and forever. ” Good thing He’s a decent chap and puts up with the likes of us. John’s letter also says he is the very embodiment of love. Therefore, his love for us must be unchangeable. So what’s unchangeable about me? Gosh, I don’t think I could ever stop loving this:
This is Faith, Christopher and Abi getting hot cocoa at the market beside the Thames.
But other things? I’m not so sure. I made a new blogger friend today, Evan Sanders (I think) of thebettermanprojects.wordpress.
In it, Evan talks about passion. And being stuck. Those of you who have been with me, know that these are two very important things to me. I simply cannot abide being stuck, and have a very hard time being around stuck people. Passion? Gosh, with just a little digging, I can remember that.
I’d be a terrible counselor for adults. Give me a four year old any day. Preschoolers are about the most dynamic creatures on the face of the earth, and given the right circumstances and environment, I can get about any one of them to change for the better. Adults, on the other hand? Years. Years!
Look at this part of this trip, for example. It’s only just penetrating that these near adults of mine are just that, near adults. They have their own lives, interests, insecurities and abilities, and frankly, sometimes I get on their nerves. It’s pretty funny.
They aren’t quite old enough to get separated and know what to do, not quite, so I make them charge their phones, have money and passports in their pockets, and get giant eye-rolls from the whole crowd. (Heheh, I live for that kind of stuff, it just cracks me up.)
Nevertheless, I can here the role- change clock ticking. Here’s one example:
Christopher: Mom, let’s go down into the tube station. Now, look at the map, do you see how you take the Central tube west to the Picadilly line? Then take that to Earl’s Court? You think you can find your way back from there?
Mom: Thanks, sweetheart. That was really clear. (Thinking- Not quite demented yet, but nice to know that’s how he’ll treat me)” Yepper, now you go and give Shelby a hug and have a nice dinner. Love you!
Christopher: Love you too, Ma! Bye!
Glad tears jump into my eyes as I wave to that broad shouldered boy-man.
So where does that leave me? Actually, sort of rubbing my hands together in glee. See, Chris and I always took childrearing very seriously. The thing is, the finish line keeps jumping around. But lately, times like that give me a pretty clear indication that my role is changing, and it means that whatever time or braincells I have left, I can spend on something I deem worthwhile.
So, as I love lists, let’s get one going.
1. Brain study. Developing brains have always fascinated me. Watching the brains of preschoolers unfold is a neverending story. What if I checked out what DU has to offer in their cognitive psych department for very young children?
2. Piano. It’s time. The last time I touched it, was before that fateful day in February when Dr. Ted mistakenly told Chris he had liver cancer. Dear Doctor Ted. The very beginning of a very long, draining chain. Where ever you are Ted, we love you.
OK, that’s enough. Too many goals scares the heck out of me. But you know, God says that with Him, all things are possible. I have tasted that, and found it to be good.