Evendays

The “foolishness” Paul wrote about was not always the foolishness of the cross. An even not-too-careful reading of his letters shows that he especially considered himself a “fool” when he was forced to write about his accomplishments, or when he had to refer to his suffering in order to protect his apostleship and, therefore, the integrity of the Gospel he had entrusted to the believers. Though he quickly gave credit to the One who empowered him and gave him life, he still considered it folly (or the ways of men) to speak of (even humbly) the things he had achieved for Christ, or the persecutions he had suffered in his name.

I can imagine Paul looking over Luke’s shoulder as Acts was penned, cringing as he saw his travels and works, courage and boldness, all scribbled down on that piece of parchment, not wanting to become a hero.

And I can imagine him negotiating with the doctor-turned-author that, yes, he could speak of his acts but only if he included the story of his conversion (in triplicate, please), and only if he underlined that the powerful Gospel was delivered by a chained and weak man who held on to the wisdom of Christ because Christ was firmly holding on to him.

Well, that’s what I imagine, anyway…

Check out this link about La Lutte Suisse… Swiss Wrestling. 200,000 people attended the weekend sporting event which is also called Lutte à la culotte (which means, and I am not making this up, wrestling in your underwear).

This is a national sport, believe it or not. And if you win the championship, they give you a cow.

There is a second event which involves throwing a really heavy rock as far as you can. The record is just over 4 meters (over 13 feet). That should give you an idea of how heavy the rock really is. BTW, this really heavy rock is not the original really heavy rock that was used in competition over the centuries. The original stone was kidnapped by separatists (terrorists) and has never been recovered.

However, I am pleased to tell you, no underwear has ever been kidnapped. Go figure.

I was out of town for a week, but was able to get back for the second race in the Tour du Pays de Vaud series.

I finished the just-short-of 10k race in just-barely-over 45 minutes. Son 2 and Wife were waaaaay fast.

Here’s a picture of us trio, after a shower, in the race shirts… (click to enlarge).

 

Wife, Son 2 and I are running a series of 5 races that take place in small towns around our Canton (Vaud). Last night’s race took place in Le Mont, an 8.3 kilometer run up the hills over Lausanne (plus down the hills, up the hills… You get the picture!). It was a “cross” run with 610 participants on the evening of the hottest summer day we’d had so far.

I only finished 11 minutes behind the winner with a 39.17,6. Wife blazed her way to a 12th place finish in her category at 40.55,8.

Son 2 was awesome, running the course 34.41,4. Oh, to be young, and fast!

It’s amazing how many of the people know each other at these small races. The atmosphere is great, quite encouraging! You get help not only from the spectators, but also from the other runners.

As we raced down one of the last hills, Lake Léman (Lake Geneva) reflecting a setting sun was our backdrop, Alps clinging to the water’s edge… It felt good to be alive.

It felt even better to be finishing the race.

There’s this boy who’s just turned 13 who is as sweet as can be, at least when he’s around us. His parents don’t get along (a big understatement) and divorce papers have been filed. Mental problems. Spiritual problems. Several months ago they asked us to keep the boy rather than put him in foster care. Our family voted “for”. I was the last to be convinced.

Recently, the mom called, in dire straits, asking us to keep the boy for 4 days before his summer camp. She’d had enough of him. We said sure and I picked him up.

In less than 72 hours, we became the mom’s enemies. On day 3 she picked up her boy and told us (with several Bible verses thrown in) that there would be no more contact. That we were hypocrites. Nothing but a sham.

And as a parting shot, if we wanted payment for keeping her boy, just send her the bill by mail.

So we’ve kind’ve been moping around the last couple of days, wondering how it could have been done differently, how we should have responded. And, of course, we continue praying for the boy’s family.

Although the stadium’s uphill and about half a mile away, Mick welcomed us to the concert with a driving “Start it up”. The music, words, slightly deformed by the Doppler effect bounced off the huge apartment building behind our place, right onto our balcony, and into the living room.

We ate raspberries and ice cream, read running magazines and surfed the web as the Stones entertained 42,600 fans between ages 7 and 77. We heard every note, every riff, every screamed lyric, every song introduction. I got it all (except for the parts in German). Madame President of the Confederation was there, along with several heads of large Swiss companies. They all rocked and rolled, extolling the virtues of the 60’s and 70’s.

All to say, with no free tickets, and no real desire to go, at the end of the evening, I was very satisfied.

When we first got to Switzerland we were young, energetic, and full of good ideas. (Now we are less young, still energetic, yet looking for new ideas!)

Wife went to the nearby retirement home (Bethanie) and asked if she could adopt some residents. Just visits and such, but the organization was very suspicious. After a bit, they suggested two ladies to visit, and that lasted a couple of years.

In the early 90’s, two or three of us would go up there after Sunday worship and visit with 3 residents without any family.

3 years ago, we met an old couple from the neighborhood who started coming to church. They were good friends of the director of Bethanie, and that opened the doors to concerts and visits to the institution by university students.

Bethanie hosts a short worship period on Friday afternoons. About 40 show up, including our neighbor friend who is now a Bethanie resident. We now organize one of the worships each month.

What impressed the residents was not the exhortation (which was marvelous) or the new songs they learned (they were great), but the fact that Sons 1 and 2 were present. They loved singing, praying and shaking hands with young Christians.

And they’re looking forward to us coming back this afternoon.

While inspecting one of the apple trees from the balcony of our apartment, I spied the underside of leaves. Not a good sign. The underside of leaves should face the ground, not the sky.

A branch a bit thicker than an inch had broken (more like “cracked”) during the night, scattering half a dozen apples on the walkway below. There had been no storm, no winds, no rain. Just too much fruit.

I propped up the branch and strengthened a few others, but we may lose even more branches. There are just too many Golden Delicious apples on this tree.

The tree is carefully pruned each February when bare branches, often covered with frost, give but a hope of October apples. I stretch support wire from the trunk to the branches, allowing passage on the path below, giving the tree form, guiding branches along a trellis.

Last year, just one side of this tree gave fruit. Our second tree gave but 8 apples. Yes, only 8. This year, on both trees, the apples hang in bunches, like grapes ready for harvest.

I may have to thin the apples, destroying some of the smaller fruit, and even some of the more beautiful fruit, just to save the branches and assure a bright future for the tree.

Thanks, everyone, for the welcome back!

There are now two separate dining areas at the kids’ camp. We used to jam 140 people into one area. Gone is that very first meal when the sound reverberates in your ears, and you’re wondering how you’ll survive another 40 meals in that environment. Welcome to camp.

No buffet style here. No lines. Meals are served family style at tables of 10. Most start with soup or end with salad. There’s always a starter along with the main dish. At lunch cheese is served (no wine) before desert. Fruit counts as desert.

We drink water fresh from one of the sources of the Loire River. (We even bathe in spring water… Thus, my soft skin… Did I tell you about the time the main blew on the pump at the source? 3 days without water for the whole camp… Quite an adventure!)

On American day we had hamburgers, hotdogs and French fries. On other days we had quiche, stuffed tomatoes, vol au vent, spaghetti, lasagna, chicken wings and egg rolls, Mexican food, fried fish and rice. Always some veggies. Often potatoes. Bread from the local bakery. Few kids went to bed hungry. Leftovers got eaten by staff after the midnight meetings.

A big thanks to the cooks who started the day at 6:30 and finished at 21:30.

A bit of a surprise, I know, to those of you who’ve heard me “whine” about youth camp in France. Two years ago, I melted down after only two days. There are constant pressures, and the pace is way too fast from early morning till, well, early morning. Government restrictions keep us busy at all times. And many of the youth come from very troubled homes.

But this year things just seemed to click for the 57 teens ages 13 to 17. The teaching went well. My room was cooperative (most of the time). The activities well-accepted (we have different activities and crafts for each day, and they take a lot of effort to prepare). The group games were spectacular. The meditations were very moving.

Two of the youth from Geneva were baptized into Christ. Two others from Marseilles were also added to the Lord.

Wife did well in the kitchen, as did Son 2 with his responsibilities with the 63 kids ages 7 to 12. Daughter enjoyed her last year as a camper. She has made good friends with many of the teens her age who attend this event annually.

All this time Son 1 was at home in Lausanne. Having just finished exams, and knowing he would have to prepare the two upcoming tests, he couldn’t risk needing a week of recovery. BTW, he has passed everything with flying colors. Just two more to do, and those he’s preparing with a buddy from Basel.

Thanks for dropping by.