jamie's wanderings

 The last two weeks have been like seeing a car accident every morning and not being able to look away. Andrew and I have a new house rule, no speaking of current political events until we both have coffee in our hands in the morning. We find ourselves reading, talking, disecting and wondering at what is going to happen next. Someone wrote on their wall on Facebook that they had interacted with AI about the teachings of Jesus and if they were compatible with Christian Nationalism. AI said no. I have always been deeply facinated with politics. My Juinor year of high school, we did video school (before online stuff existed) and my civics class was fascinating as we learned about how the US government worked. The teacher was passionate about the subject and we who watched it became intrigued as well. But the longer I live, and live away from the US, the less I understand. I told a client yesterday that it used to be a law that the Brits weren't permitted to vote after living 15 years ...

 Someone confessed to me last night, I used to be a youth pastor. I responded with, Me too. And we swapped a few details and didn't really need to say much, even though as I do, I probably said too much, because it wasn't needed and we saw each other. Something to the effect of, how could the church have so many empty rooms 99% of the time while the homeless underneath the very sign went without love and help? After the conversation I cried. Yet again. As Uncle Peter says, the plot sickens. I could go on and on about former classmates who went out guns ablazing into the mision field. And got kicked out, run out, burnt out. Or like I heard last week, yet another pastor friend of mine quit. Nothing immoral, nothing really wrong, but no one could agree and he said, this isn't the Gospel I was taught and preach, and left. So many of us have gone, left, faded into the wordwork, pivoted, changed, reinvented ourselves. Walked away. The current lingo is, deconstructed. Some merely ...

This weeks writing has been more focused in an end of the year, thanksgiving note to those that pray and still financiall support us. The list of the former has dwindeled over the years, but it still important nonetheless. Here is a bit that I wrote, not all but some. Yesterday, Andrew took his scooter over to the hospital next door and sat with Sarah, an English widow who hires Andrew to translate for her and her doctors during her medical visits for a chronic disease. After experiencing a number of health crisis in the last month, Andrew spent two hours with her and her doctors to arrange meds, treatment and tests. Afterwards they had a coffee and talked at length. She has had some difficult health and personal issues lately and to thank us for our support and help, she gave us a little holiday package of chocolates and a beautiful card. Later that afternoon, I drove up to visit an elderly English man, who is now confined to a wheelchair. He has lived and worked all over the world, a...

 This week is one fraught with emotion, between the events in Valencia last week of super mega flash floods to the Day that is Today, most awaited US elections. Just writing that sentence above felt heavy. One week ago, the heaven opened up and the storm system called Gota Fria, or cold drop, let over 19 inches of rain to fall in just moments in the Valencia regions. We had much less, perhaps 3 or 4 inches, and as my friend pointed out, we proved the saying, The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain. Since Granada is bumped up against the Sierra Nevada mountain range, and is surrounded by 4 rivers, we watched it all go past us. But in Valencia, it overwhelmingly flash flooded in a way that caught everyone flat footed. Mud, sticks, cars and trucks floated by as if they were toys, and people screamed and cried and terror. Now that the mud has settled, over 850,000 people and 69 different towns and villages have been affected by this horrible act. Worse than this, before the rain ha...

 Andrew and I watch a lot of varied movies, sci fi, drama, action, you name it, we like a lot of it. But I'm reluctant to watch certain genres, horror and some kinds of suspense, as I'm sensitive and have nightmares. Andrew and Sofi have gotten me to step out in the last few days as they claim they need some more scarier movies in their lives, and I've boldly gone where I've not really gone before. Much as I'd hate to admit it, I've actually found it very cathartic and enjoyable in a very different way. We watched, the three of us, the Night of the Living Dead. The ending I was unhappy about, but the cinematography, the fascination that in 1968 there was an amaing African American male lead, and also that this was filmed in Butler county, where my mom and her sisters grew up, and where my grandparents are now buried. The house felt like my great grandmothers house and it felt like a familiar area in so many ways, that I found myself engrossed in yes, even classi...

 I wish I could write it all down. The names, dates, places, and organizations. But, I will refrain. But the indignance, the righteous anger I have, will not be silenced. Yet again, one we know, this time one of our ninos, a student who long ago studied in Granada, and we had moments of connection with, came back. This happens at least once a year. We get a text, phone call or whatever and a name from our past says, "Finally! Bringing the husband/wife/fam, can we have a coffee?" And we get dressed on a windy, fall afternoon and ride Andrew's scooter to the vibing, thriving center of Granada with thousands of tourists gaping up at the buildings, eating icecream and finding a coffee. And we find them, and hug them and sit down and ask, "How are you?" It doesn't take long, and halfway through a cup of coffee, it all come pouring out. Tenative at first, and then all of the nitty, gritty, ,awful details, as my Uncle Peter says, the plot of life then sickens. I kn...

 This blog is not necesarrily a manifesto, but this words have definetly rung over and over in my mind again and again the last several months. I've offended some with these words, and others have affirmed them. So here goes this post. It is my convicted belief that the Kingdom of Heaven began and will be completed at a table, and not a temple, or cathedral, or mosque. It's humble beginnings are first in the 6 banquets Jesus particpates in in the book of Luke, the 7th the momement as Jesus sat and broke bread and drank wine with his disciples, the 8th when he breaks bread as a resurrection Jesus on the road to Emmaus,  and finally,  will be completed when we all sit together with Jesus and finally do the same at the Feast of the End of It All. And, to expand on this theme, another thought has surfaced. Jesus was found on the road to Emmaus, not in a temple, or synagagoe or mosque, but rather walking as a traveler and no one realized who he was, until he sat at the table w...