jamie's wanderings

Written by a friend. The ache of sorrow in my breast, The hurt that gnaws deep at my chest. I must confess... I feel like nothing is made right Oh where, oh where is the light Here I stand again it seems Taken back to horrors dreams O death you wheeled your power free Yet I look for life found upon the Tree Still my heart will feel the sting And miss our loved ones set free to sing Our lives entwined there too short a duration, I trust, will one day be rejoined in joyous celebration! All tears and fears will be washed away, As we sit together on that happy day. Yet now as I say my last goodbyes I must confess...I still feel.... The ache of sorrow in my breast, The hurt that gnaws deep at my chest. --- Isaac Ring, 2010

A lighter hearted post... Tuesday evening we headed back from the UK to our home in Granada after a few days of wonderful time with friends in the Oxford area. We took the train from Pangbourne to Reading, enjoyed a half hour break with some wonderful enormous coffees and took the hour and half long train to Gatwick airport. After checking in, and walking through security, we saw our plane was delayed a half hour. I had planned that we would arrive mostly on time and have over and hr to pick up bags etc, and then take a cab to the bus station in the South of Madrid, and then the 5 hr overnight bus ride home. Yes, it was the slow boat to China as my aunt Debbie says, but it was cheap, and that saved us over 150 dollars to do it that way. Needless to say,we were delayed out of Gatwick and arrived in Madrid at 12:45 in the morning and we had only 45 minutes to get out of the plane, get our two bags, grab a cab and then make the last overnight bus at 1:30 in the morning. AS we desc

This week we wandered to Oxford. Strange you say, why Oxford, England? Simply put, its cooler here, we like it here and finally, but most importantly, some Very Dear Friends live here. It has been several months since Andrew's mom slipped into the next life, and this long months have been hard, and difficult and painful and poignant in so many ways. There have been tears and laughter, moments of its so hard to talk you choke up, and lots of moments for me personally, sitting in church, in prayer meeting, in worship practice, in church service, where I soaked it all up like a sponge and squeezed it all dry by the time I came back a few minutes later. Never have I so dreadfully needed my own faith in the Next Life. And so wandering onward to Oxford, we have been with friends, no, really, family, that have reinforced our desire and faith for the next life. We have needed desperately this step away from Granada, even though we love and miss our church family in that incredible, p

We all want "meaning" to our jobs, all the more so when they seem lacking in meaning. I mean, what in the grand scheme of life can a secretary, or receptionist, or sales clerk, or waitress, or whatever you want to fill in the black, can contribute to the grand and glorious tapestry of life? I've been all of those, secretary, receptionist, sales clerk and waitress. I've been told I can't wear backless shoes because it might hurt me or worse yet, offend a client. I've had trays of food and too many half empty glasses of liquid tumble from my hands. I've answered calls and said, "I'm sorry, Jim...(or Don or whoever) isn't available, would you like his voicemail?" Again and again and again until your toes and brain and knees are numb from your conservative shoes, or stupid clients, or your countless times of traipsing up the stairs in the smoking section of the restaurant. And I've cursed at the copier, made too many trips to the toilet c