a look back – 2012

 

What a year it was.  We rang it in with fireworks in a tiny farming village on the highest peak in our part of the Rhineland Pfalz.  We closed it out watching magnificent fireworks explode over the London Eye.  (and can't wait to share!) 

In between there was dancing

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in Stuttgart, Ramstein, Munich…

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and in Ireland.  Beautiful Ireland. 

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There were parades big and small. 

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There was a lot of football.  From little boys playing alongside the flight line to American pro football in Wembley Stadium

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to English football in Manchester. 

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There were great celebrations. Holy Communion…

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Confirmations.   

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As well as solemn memorials to a good man gone too soon for us.  

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We cheered at a high school graduation and a college graduation. 

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And then there were the road trips.  Lots of them. 

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Luxembourg

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Köln

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Trier – a couple times. 

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Some of them hiked the French rock formations along the old Roman road.  

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another put her toes in the sand on the Italian coast

 

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Others splashed along the Suffolk coast. 

We watched another cross the finish line in Prague

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Prague, the city which stole Abbie's heart.  

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And we boarded ship for the white cliffs of Dover, not a road trip but to  make a home. 

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Where we pal around in Cambridge and London

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From flowering rapeseed in Germany to the bowing fen grasses of East Anglia. 

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We have been blessed to share this year's adventures with over a half dozen American students as well.  The one face you don't see in these pictures is our son Asher. He spent 2012 in Korea.  Major goal of 2013 is a picture of him next to his mama. 

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 It's been quite a ride y'all. I count it as a singular blessing to have been able to share it with the people I dearly love near and far, face to face and via this screen.  2012 saw a lot of boxes and suitcases and smiles – as well as tears.  Life is full.  

It is never easy. 

It is always good.  

Life is good. Hold on to that. 

to the ponies

 

The girls and I knew without a doubt from the minute we read the sign mentioning the Dartmoor ponies grazing on the grounds that we were going to do all we could to find them.  In the end, that meant a lot of walking through field and forest, some of that carrying Abbie Rose piggy back. 

Finally the trail opened onto this rugged grassland, the prairie all red and bowing in the warm autumn wind. 

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  Allen was the first to see them and redirected us off the beaten path and over to the pony pasture. 

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It was worth every step.

Cambridge in Color

 

I had forgotten about these images still on the phone from our shopping trip to Cambridge earlier this month.  Maybe you'd like to walk along?

We start this leg of the trip strolling through the marketplace late in the day as things were wrapping up. 

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A visit to Cath Kidston of course! 

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A shop all red and polka dotted with vintage goodness. I could live here. Might be overstating since my home seems to be making ever greater inroads into Old World golds and wines vs vintage red and turquoise. That doesn't deter me from lingering a good while however!
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Market flowers.  Can't get enough. America needs far more vendors with big buckets of blooms. 
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The Shell Seekers

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Summer made a late appearance in England this year we are told.  When we arrived last month it was so cold we had to turn the radiators on the first night due to the damp chill that had settled into the old, empty house. While our American friends were sweltering, we were carrying jackets and umbrellas. The word on the street was that summer was over.  

They spoke too soon. : )

This has been the second weekend of near perfect summer weather. It is quite hot for Northern Europe but just right for us transplants. We have been outdoors for most of it, coming in reluctantly when dark falls, children dropping into bed sunkissed and thoroughly exhausted.  

I felt a little bit guilty not working on the last bit of sorting and shelving.  But not enough to come inside. The rain will fall soon enough. You only get so many opportunities to sift the sand together. They won't always squeal when the waves chase them up the shore after all. 

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second by second

 

Every moment comes to you pregnant with a Divine Purpose; time being so precious that God only deals it out second by second. Once it leaves your hands and your power to do with it as you please, it plunges into eternity –

to remain forever what you made it. 

Fulton Sheen

I hope you are making the most of every moment this summer, before the last of them are lost to us.  Sharing some images from a 'big kid' outing my older kids enjoyed this month.  Can I say how very cool it is to have children old enough to vacation together? Even cooler – photography has become a family hobby.

(thank you Colin for these pictures!)

 

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Czechoslovakian Hussite Church Concert

Late one afternoon in Prague we quite literally wandered into a side door of this church.  We try to alternate our street sights with indoor sights so Allen and I the children can rest.  Once inside we discovered there was a concert in progress. It had been at intermission when we entered.  We were able to enjoy the end of the performance and Abbie caught a nap.  Someone else appears to be snoozing as well, but he will tell you he was awake. <g>  He gets a kitchen pass for this one since he had run 13 miles earlier in the day. 

 

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This was possibly the most magnificent chandelier I have ever seen.  Ever. 

 

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Actually it looks like Kieran nodded off as well.  Please excuse the exhausted Americans. : ) 

 

 

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pilgrimage

This story began long before our feet touched the cobblestones in Prague.  In fact my earnest prayers to the Infant, many years ago, were some of the first for which I recall receiving distinct and immediate answers.  Still it was many years before I really understood the whole concept of contemplating our Lord as a mere babe. Maybe I am still uncovering more layers to this mystery and its application to my life, which is also vulnerable and fragile and every bit as dependent on Providence and mercy as was the Infant in the manger.  

This is the ultimate paradox – the Saviour became weak, helpless.  He entered the world swaddled immobile and left it bound securely to a tree and later swathed tightly in linen again.  This is not the sort of hero people were expecting.  It still isn't.   

"my power is made perfect in weakness…" 2 Cor 12:9

This is something we do well to consider.  

"…Let us then also follow the magi, let us separate ourselves from our barbarian customs, and make our distance therefrom great, that we may see Christ, since they too, had they not been far from their own country, would have missed seeing Him. Let us depart from the things of earth. For so the wise men, while they were in Persia, saw but the star, but after they had departed from Persia, they beheld the Sun of Righteousness. Or rather, they would not have seen so much as the star, unless they had readily risen up from thence.

Let us then also rise up; though all men be troubled, let us run to the house of the young Child;

though kings, though nations, though tyrants interrupt this our path, let not our desire pass away. For so shall we thoroughly repel all the dangers that beset us. Since these too, except they had seen the young Child, would not have escaped their danger from the king. Before seeing the young Child, fears and dangers and troubles pressed upon them from every side; but after the adoration, it is calm and security; and no longer a star but an angel receives them, having become priests from the act of adoration; for we see that they offered gifts also. Do thou therefore likewise leave the Jewish people, the troubled city, the blood-thirsty tyrant, the pomp of the world, and hasten to Bethlehem, where is the house of the spiritual Bread. For though thou be a shepherd, and come hither, thou wilt behold the young Child in an inn: though thou be a king, and approach not here, thy purple robe will profit thee nothing; though thou be one of the wise men, this will be no hindrance to thee; only let thy coming be to honor and adore, not to spurn the Son of God; only do this with trembling and joy…" –  St. John Chrysostom (ca. A.D. 347-407)

Our desire, likewise, did not pass away and our first stop in Prague was to the Church of Our Lady of Victory to kneel and pray "with trembling and joy."  

So very much has happened in the weeks since our pilgrimage I haven't really known where to begin to explain it all. Life is changing very quickly once again, though I have come to expect that.  When God acts in my life it is decisive and dramatic very often. So it has been.  

Symbolic of the change has been the final closing of the sale of the ranch last month. It all happened during these weeks before and after our trip.  I say it is symbolic because my life 'before' was so tied to that place that even this blog and my photography work bear its name.  Truly a new chapter has begun.   

I can't do justice to all have carried in my heart so I will just leave you to the pictures.

 

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 Of course, she was here.  Of course. My ever present companion. 

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(I am happy here I really am.  But a big puffy, sniffly, pour-your-whole-heart-out mess by then)

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A Story of the Infant Jesus of Prague

Infant of Prague prayers and history

over, under, and through

They were well equipped this foggy day for a perfect adventure.  The Rheinfels Castle, with its extensive mine tunnels were beckoning.  The castle sits high above the Rhine, strategically placed just before the river turns wild.  This location encouraged many travelers to pull off and regroup before hitting rougher waters at which point tolls could be collected.  It was also a target for invaders.  Clever castle guardians devised an intricate system of tunnels which allowed them to plant land mines many yards away from the compound.  The mole like burrows are just about boy size, unlit, damp, and irrestible. You know we had to try this. 

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