More Water: Duck tracks

My mind is still on water and rain. Of course water is a big part of our life, but with the wet weather it seems even more so. Today I’m thinking about dew. I posted a video to go along with this entry on my MySpace site - http://www.myspace.com/slivermoonglobal Click on "My videos" under my picture and click on "Duck Tracks."

I was in the middle of my morning run and the dew was thick on the grass. Everyone else uses the sidewalk, so I don’t know who had been there before me that day, but I run on the grass, leaving a dotted trail in the unbroken dewy grass. As I ran next to the pond I noticed someone had been there before me – it was a duck.

I ran next to the little foot prints, up and down the hills for a few minutes and then I looked back to see two tracks in the dew – his little dots close together, sometimes blurring together into one solid line, and my big splotches farther apart.

For some reason I felt a bond with the duck, you know, like we had been down the same road and had shared experiences.

Well, that’s just the way my mind works.

So, anyway, I thought about the short-legged dew treader meandering up and down the hills, and wondered: how long did it take him? Is it hard for him to walk up the steep hill? Why was he walking there? Was the dew cold on his feet? I wondered if he felt like me - did the morning air in his lungs compel him to live the coming day hard and full? Were his little duck eyes just as mesmerized as mine looking at the reflection of the new day in the perfectly calm water?

We left our mark, the duck and I, in the dew – two careless lines of green among the wetter green carpet, a fleeting witness to our presence, passage and purpose. Our brief mark on the world would evaporate within the hour. Like so many things we do in a day – leaving no lasting mark.

I remembered something I saw during the Pigman spring triathlon several years ago. On the side of the road, preserved in concrete, are a good long set of raccoon tracks. Apparently the little critter walked on the road while the cement was still wet. They will be there as long as the road lasts.

There are some things in our lives that don’t fade away: our wedding day, the birth of our children, graduation days. Sometimes there are big events like reunions, or vacations together, or trips which leave a lasting impact. I think for me there were big projects I did with others that left a lasting impression on all of us, like writing and performing musicals or movies, or the music tour. Also, there were lasting things I did on my own like marathons performances and travel.

So, my point is that, while most parts of most days are spent making tracks that will fade by the time the sun rises high, it is worth working towards big things. As we attempt weightier and more substantive goals we experience a fuller, more meaningful life. Also, at times we can even make someone else’s life more meaningful. Some people even made such lasting tracks that they impact people long after their own life is over: Beethoven, CS Lewis, Ghandi, Mother Teresa.

Well, that’s what I was thinking about when I ran next to the duck tracks.

I ran on and imagined my little friend waddling along thought about how much effort it must have taken him, and how easily I was skimming along the dew. I felt a bit superior.

On my way back I saw the duck on the pond, gliding effortlessly. I mentally compared that image to me swimming laps in the pool – water flying, waves everywhere, gasping like a steam engine, and moving forward at a snail’s pace for my effort.

Ok, I’ve got the grass but he’s got the water, we’re even, the duck and I. (Hopelessly competitive I am.)

Then he flew away.

Damn. Outdone by a duck.

Waterlogged in Texas

As of yesterday we have had 50 straight days of rain. We’ve got Noah beat by 10.

Consequently, I have been thinking about water lately. It’s like so many things in life – too little is bad, too much is worse. Like dessert, money, beer, credit, garlic, Irish music, and RAIN.

As I was running the other day I noticed the sound of the creek next to the trail. I love that sound. Calm and companionable. But just a few days ago that same creek was a flooding, raging river – 20 feet deep, sweeping away everything, including entire trees. Life is like that, one moment just rolling along and suddenly coming at you way, way to fast.

So anyway, after our daily thunderstorm/flash flood yesterday I thought how the weather illustrates the character of God, he is both terrifying and gentle. Lightning – terrifying; peaceful sunset afterwards – gentle.

I put together a little North Texas weather video. It looks and sounds great on my computer but not so great on the web, but since I made it I decided to post it anyway. You can see it at my Myspace page, click on "videos." http://www.myspace.com/slivermoonglobal. It's labeled "Waterlogged in Texas."

What, exactly, do we know?

So I sent an email to everybody that my phone changed but the number didn’t and I got some interesting responses. Dani (Hungarian) asked me if I had Lia’s (Hungarian) phone number (which I had), and my sister wrote to say she didn’t my phone number!

Hmm, what does that say about me….

The sun shone today for the first time all week (well, almost) and it got pretty hot. Due to a series of delays I ran my prescribed 9 miles in the heat of the day. It wasn’t so bad until I got home and stopped running. Then I felt REALLY tired. I wonder why I didn’t know how tired I was while I was actually getting tired.

Have you ever experienced something like this? You get to the end of something, let down, relax, and then realize just how draining it had been.

I’m working on putting together one of the films from Hungary. I am constantly fighting the voices in my head that tell me my work stinks. I suspect I’m worried about failure, or what people will think. Well, I’m no film genius that’s for sure, but I have to give it my best shot.

New Phone

I am writing to tell everyone that I have a new phone. No need to change anything, the number is the same.

I know we like things to stay the same. It makes our lives seem secure, dependable, like we know what to expect. But things change. People change. Society changes, the World changes.

Let’s take Texas weather for example. For the first two years I lived in Texas we had two kinds of days: Pleasant and sunny, and hot and sunny. Starting this spring we entered the rain zone. Before I left for Hungary we were in a weather rhythm that included a weekly flash flood. Since I returned volume is down but frequency is up. Now we have daily thunderstorms. Some days it rains two or three times. Everything is green, I never have to water anything, it’s humid – we could be living in Iowa.

Maybe it’s not so much that the weather changed as that I just know Texas weather better now. As we used to say at faculty meetings: I now have a more sophisticated understanding of Texas. Anyway, it’s the same address but it has been calling up different weather.

I am applying for teaching jobs. The party is over, time to make some money again. I do love to teach, and I can still work on films in my spare time.

Same number, new phone.

Onion Rings and Cherry Coke

I’m getting healthy. Well, I’m planning to get healthy. This morning I ran the 8 miles prescribed by my new training schedule, ate fruit and vegetables for breakfast and lunch. I worked on my film, then took a break to grocery shop. I bought good healthy food like carrots, yogurt, and skim milk. Even salmon. Then on the way home I stopped by Sonic for onion rings and a cherry coke. Hmmm.

What Happened In Europe

Notes from my trip
While I was traveling I did some writing which I couldn’t get up on my blog until I got home. So here’s what happened with me.

Paris, Ireland, London
My travels with Susan and Katy through Paris, Ireland, and London were great. We got connected with Katy’s favorite people and places in Paris. We heard some great traditional Irish music and had many adventures in driving while in Ireland. I had a lesson at a music school to learn Bodhran (Irish drum) and Pennywhistle. Driving on the wrong side of the road and the wrong side of the car was interesting. Shifting with the wrong hand was maddening. Driving 100 kilometers per hour on curvy, narrow roads was invigorating, (Susan may have a different descriptor) until we met buses and trucks coming the other way at which point the experience became a little more intense. Ireland is absolutely beautiful, and the Irish are amazing – witty, friendly, welcoming. We hope to go back! We did a little looking around in London, and saw a musical, “Wicked.” Then to the train through the Chunnel back to Paris. I have wiped the 36 hour trek from Paris to Dallas from my mind, and will not speak of it again, so don’t ask.

John and Zsofi
I spent the last few days in Hungary at John and Zsofi’s house. They are living with their parents in a suburb of Budapest. It was great to see them again. I can’t spend time with John and Zsofi without growing in my faith. They stretch me every time. They are so thoughtful and intentional in their faith, and so wise. As you know, I have loads of questions and mental struggles with God. John and Zsofi don’t try to convince me of their point of view, but they are such great listeners and conversationalists that I always come away with answers, and am more sure of my faith. Humble and wise. As a matter of fact, I think we should throw democracy out the window and appoint John and Zsofi king and queen. If anyone could run the world, they could.

Overall I wasn’t a great guest. I don’t know how many times I arrived late at night, only to leave early the next day for some far point on the map. But, in the end, I did stay put long enough to experience their wonderful extended family. As I said, they live with their parents. They also have a beautiful daughter Eszter about 8 months old. Zsofi’s sister Kristi lives there this summer, and her grandmother was there too – four generations in one home.

They organized a party for long-time friends who had a common connection with the mission organization International Messengers. Many of my trips to Hungary were with International Messengers so I knew everyone who came, and hadn’t seen some of them for 10 years. I knew them as high school or college kids, and now they have families and careers. Most of them have spent some time in full or part time ministry. If anyone ever had a doubt about the effectiveness of short term missions, they should have been in the house that day. There are a few dozen Hungarians who came to faith, grew in faith, discipled others in the faith, and now are continuing on in faith all as a result of short term missions. These are Hungarians molding the Hungarian church. Very cool.

At Helga’s House
We had a great visit. What a beautiful family. Rebeka is 12 and Laura 10. They picked me up from the train station in Pecs and we spent the drive to Mohacs catching up on old times. Helga fixed spaghetti like mom used to make, I taught Rebeka a duet on piano and Laura a few chords on guitar. Helga and Zoli showed me around the town and the Danube River. Jus writing down what we did doesn’t really capture the experience.

Let me try again.

There is an experience I’m sure you’ve had but I don’t know the word for. Remember, for example, how good it is to come into a warm house after being outside in the cold, or flopping down on the sofa after a long day’s work, or a shower after hours of yard work under the August sun. Spending time in Zoli and Helga’s home is like that. It’s like being covered with a warm, peaceful, friendly blanket.

Zoli and Helga are church planters, and they work with two groups – one in Pecs and one in Mohacs. Both are going well. Zoli told me there are more than a dozen small town close by in which there are no churches, and he hopes someday to work there too.

Lia and Zoli
I “moved” from Hajduboszormeny to Debrecen to stay with Lia and Zoli while I finished up the film. It was so great to see Zoli and Lia, and to meet Aron. I felt so at home there, and it was great to experience their family. Their home is full of peace and happiness. Lia is a great mom. She is so perfect with Aron. She creates this beautiful environment for Aron, and he obviously feels completely secure and loved. Aron is bright eyed and never stops moving. He is remarkably friendly. We walked to downtown Debrecen, and Aron was a people magnet! Everyone was smiling and waving at him, and ladies would come over and play with him.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Seeing Aron helped me understand why Lia’s ministry has been so fruitful. She is so outwards focused! Add that to being capable, dedicated, servant-hearted and it’s no wonder God has used her so effectively in ministry!

Thursday

I was in Eger today. Eger is an important city in Hungarian history and there is a famous castle there. I spent a few hours filming the castle. I wanted to make sure I covered all parts of the castle. I might have missed a few stones. Maybe. Maybe I was a little compulsive about it. I expect I will use about 30 seconds worth of footage for my film. Sometimes I just can't stop.

As I was walking down the street I heard the sound that only a band director can love: beginning music students. So I popped in to see what was going on. One thing led to another, and soon I was sitting in on a trumpet lesson. I exchanged e-mail with the brass teacher, and then the percussion teacher showed me around. He has a collection of old Hungarian instruments, so we had a nice talk.

I ate a very nice Hungarian lunch which included some of my favorite foods: fruit soup, and galuska.

I walked around filming Eger, getting lost, and met some kids who were fascinated with my camera and had a nice talk with their grandfather while they zoomed in and out on everything in sight.

While getting on the bus I make a little mistake. I put my bag in the luggage compartment under the bus.

The trip to Budapest was beautiful because of the evening light and I think I got some film of Matra mountain and the nuclear power plant.

I popped out of the bus thinking about how I would get home using the public transportation.

My mother used to say that she was glad my head was securely fastened to my body so I couldn't use it. After Andy was born they told me they thought I would be a good father to my children as long as I didn't lose them.

You know where this is going.

I forgot to get my bag from under the bus.

I didn't realize it until I had purchased a subway pass and was on my way. It hit me as if I were in the basement of the Twin Towers when they fell.

I prayed. Hard.

I headed back but the bus was long gone. People directed me to the "Service office." The door to the "Service office" read, "Entry forbidden" but the people nearby assured me I could go in.

I entered a small room about 6' X 8'. There was no light in the room at all, and at the other end was a grey-haired man with large glasses sitting behind a window. His room was dark too, except for a desk lamp.

As I appoached he was shouting at someone on the phone. He slammed it down with one hand and picked up a different phone with the other. After shouting into that one for the better part of a minute he slammed that one down. Then he directed his full atention on me and said, "Tess!" (What!) I should explain that in a semi-formal situation like a restaurant Hungarians say, "Tessek parancsolja" which translates as "May I help you?" Less formally they often shorten it to "Tessek." I have never heard "Tess!"

Well, if I had left something else on the bus I think I would have cut my losses and just left. But, remembering that all the film I shot for the film in Hajdubösörmeny were in my bag, I dared to speak.

I explained the situation, he hammered out a few strokes on the keyboard and told me the bus had already left back to Eger.

Somehow the dark room darkened.

I scooped my heart up from the floor and asked what I should do. He blurted, "I don't know."

For some reason I had expected help.

Since I didn't move, and he obviously had more people to shout at he wrote down a telephone number and sent me away.

If I could see into the future I would not have left the room. But, like a man who just ran over his own dog, I retreated from the "Service desk," carrying the feint glimmer of hope - 8 blue numbers on a small white scrap of paper.

I managed to find a phone booth, but 10 minutes worth of dialing proved fruitless.

I began to run through a mental inventory of my lost things putting them in two categories: replacable and irreplacable. The feint glimmer of hope was flickering. My backpack was heavy, but not nearly as heavy as my countenance. The phone booth became a boxing ring and I began pummeling myself with the gloves off. So Stupid. So irresponisble. So Careless. What was I thinking! When will I grow up! My work was interrupted by the sweat running down my back, and I stood there staring at the bottons on the phone. No bag. No help. No phone number. No hope.

As is often the case, at the end of the road, at the lowest point God sends help. There was a man standing outside the phone booth. God's "Service desk."

I asked about the phone number. The small white piece of paper was fine but there was a problem with the 8 blue numbers.

I esplained my situation. He closed hes phone shop and took me back to the "Service desk." He withstood the piercing glare behind the large glasses and we returned with a new number.

I didn't work. He suggested we try again in 15 minutes.

Then God sent his second helper. I called Zsofi. I confessed the self-induced catatrophy. At this point my bag was on it's way back to Eger and the bus was apparently in a communication black hole. I couldn't reach the driver or the Eger bus office.

Zsofi wondered if I knew anyone in Eger. Now the third God-sent hlep entered the story. This help God prepared a day ahed of time. Wednesday I met with Ilona and she told me Judit lives in Eger and gave me her number! I thanked God for Zsofi and her level head.

So I called Judit, the 4th helper. Yes, she said, she would gladly meet the bus carrying my bag in Eger and retrieve it for me. I would catch the next bus and follow my bag back to Eger.

I know, it wasn't an elegant plan but another two hour bus ride would be worth it if I could get my bag back.

Se there was a little hope for success. But I was pretty well convinced that someone had probably already stolen my bag and this trip was just following the air.

I had 10 minutes to catch the bext bus back to Eger. As I approached the bus I looked inside and saw the driver. It was the same gu who drove us from Eger! I looked in the luggage compartment and there was my bag!

The man in the "Service office" was wrong - the bus hadn't gone back to Eger - it was there the whole time!

I love stories with a happy ending.

tim