on the road to San Sebastian

once, many, many months ago we took a family trip up to beach-side San Sebastian (the Brits love to holiday up there from what I hear.)

on the way there we stopped for a coffee. good thing Malachai had his trusty 1.3 megapixel sidekick. he got this cute picture of me and Selma:
he also got a picture of the shirtless rockstar that was on the cigarette machine behind me:
but I made him delete it.

he took a picture of my cup of water:
and then we all squeezed in tight for a group shot (minus Malachai, of course)
and then he surprised this neighboring coffee drinker by taking his picture:
I gave Malachai some good basic guidelines for photographing strangers - - especially up close. when the kind gent assured Malachai that it was ok, Malachai suggested a Josu and stranger portrait. they both complied:
what a day!

friendship fusion

Brett had a birthday recently.
(you know Brett, right? - - part of our Christian community - - doctoral student in a local Spanish university?)
Brett runs in a cool, university crowd - - these architecture students spend their birthdays weaving through the labyrinth of Pamplona's old town streets - - picking out their favorite pinchos at every bar along the way, a different friend taking turns paying for the selection of food and drinks . . .

we run in a different sort of crowd.
we run in the "make a birthday cake and invite some friends over to play some silly games and then relight the candle three times so that we can sing happy birthday in English, Spanish, and Euskera (it keeps the kids happy and refines their language skills, you know?)" sort of crowd

Brett invited us along to his birthday celebration anyways (partying differences be darned!), because we're his church family, and he believes that neither he, nor we, (nor you for that matter) should compartmentalize our friendships and gatherings into "Christian" and "other".
we agree with Brett - - and he's our family; and so, with this kind, purposeful invitation, out we went, at 9pm with our three sweet ones in tow - - toys and snacks packed in the stroller,

and ate good food
and met and re-met some of Brett's friends (some who now, in fact qualify as our friends)
and had some good conversations - - some trivial, some significant
and were glad that Brett had invited us
and glad that we had said yes
We made it home by 2 am - - very early by Spanish standards.
(we're kind of new at this)

well then, try it again, this time in Spanish

Recently, when Josu and Malachi were in the midst of some swordplay,
Malachai developed an elaborate plan of attack
which he tried to explain to Josu.
When Josu didn't understand,
Malachai explained it again - - but in Spanish

I don't think that Josu understood it that way either,

but it made me smile

babies everywhere, all over the world, speak the same language.


and on a completely unrelated note . . . .
Imagine that you made a dinner appointment with some terribly important person - - the most important person alive, in fact. And throughout the dinner, you kept popping out for a smoke, and then to check your facebook on your blackberry, and then you text you mom . . . .

sometimes I feel like that when I pray.

but what I want is this:
to continue steadfastly in prayer
being watchful in it
with thanksgiving.
(Colossians 4:2)

throwing the newspaper at Joshua was no accident

I was enjoying flipping through the newspaper in our local coffee shop yesterday morning; an interesting article caught my eye - - it was titled "other religions in Pamplona" and began with: (loosely translated)
"even though Pamplona is a small city, and primarily Catholic, in the Navarran capital there are seven other religions present . . . . "
after a fairly accurate snippet describing the Evangelical faith, the newspaper article went on to describe the doctrines of the the Jehovah's Witnesses . . .
"the J.W.'s, who arrived in Pamplona about 40 years ago, share the same basic beliefs as the Evangelicals"

the blood drained from my face, my hand went up to my throat, and I threw the newspaper into Joshua's hands gasping "read this!"

thirty minutes later, we were home.
I was in the kitchen making lunch,
the boys had their shirts stripped off and were in a wrestling match on the living room floor,
and Joshua - - the paper strewn beside him on the couch, was writing a letter to the editor.
I knew I could count on him.

Sometimes people say that Selma looks like Josu.
Every once in a while people say that Selma looks like Malachai.
Mostly, though, people say that Selma looks like her aunt Rachel.
I think that is very nice.