Did I do that?

Tonight, M and I left our apartment and rounded the corner. There was a back hoe driving down the lane. Just behind it some boys, maybe about 10 years old were quite fascinated with it. That's pretty typical no? The problem was that they were getting too close to the moving treds, putting things on the treds even as it was moving. I was afraid they were going to get pinned between it and the curb or somehow get under it. Both M and I were very nervous watching them.

The most aggressive boy started going towards the far side of the back hoe where there was about half a foot between the machine and the curb- a very dangerous place to be, especially because i don't think the driver could see them... and you know what, I just couldn't take it. I couldn't. So I took hold of the kid's arm before he could go behind the back hoe, and re directed him in the opposite direction away from it, and basically said "no" to him.

M and I started walking away, and then we looked back and saw that the back hoe had rounded the corner but the kids weren't going away, they were still trying to mess with it.... and then the cab started rotating and it looked like the one kid might get hit.... it gave my heart a start.

Without thinking I started running toward the 3 boys, and their eyes got a little saucer-like. That's right kid. Foreign woman running staight at you! You know, when your adrenalin is pumping, it's hard to speak in a language that's not your first. But I think the shaking finger at them and the back hoe and emphatically saying "It's not safe!!!" got the message across.

The moral of the story is: It's better to be frightened by a crazy foreign lady than squished by a back hoe.

The best thing I saw Yesterday...

A man driving a garbage cart- peddling it to be exactly. Dirty face, dirty clothes, a thousand watt smile....why? because of his little daughter who was riding along with him. He might not have been the richest Dad I saw yesterday but he was definately the proudest.

Easter monday here where I am.

We had a very nice Easter weekend. Since we don't have a Church in our language to go to here, we just met with some english speaking friends on Friday and had our own little worship time together. We read the story of Christ's journey to the cross and His cruxifiction. We took communion together. It was good to remember.

After our worship time together, we went for supper to a nice restaurant that advertises Starbucks... which would be the first in the city but we realized that it wasn't authentic. The signs were real but the products aren't. Either that or they have the right products but don't know how to make anything properly. (they did have some real starbucks coffee in bags but the frappuchinos that they served us were not the same as the "real" thing.) No really big disappointment. We kind of expected it when we first saw the signs anyway.

On Saturday M's school invited us for supper to a nice restaurant as well that was serving turkey alongside a big buffet of mostly seafood. It was delicious.

We met a couple of teachers who were here on exchange from Scottland. We understood most of what they said. They invited us to sit with them, so we did. It was nice to meet someone from "the old country."

The evening was rounded off by a surprise evening Easter chocolate hunt hidden and hosted by a few of our Canadian friends here. That was a surprise! Very fun.

On Sunday we had friends over for Easter brunch- I whipped up the pancake batter and cracked the eggs while M fried and flipped everything. Some friends brought over some fruit and we had a nice time of it.

We ended up biking over to the park afterwards to toss around a frisbee and play badmitton. It was a gorgeous day in the park. I didn't realize we had such a nice park so nearby. I had walked through there in winter once but it didn't seem so big or so nice.

As a note about our time in the park- people here don't play frisbee... so we drew a bit of a crowd just by throwing it around. That kind of makes me smile because to me, watching people throw a frisbee is about the equivalent of watching golf on TV. ZZZzzzzz. But I guess if you've never seen it before it's a little more thrilling.

We finished the afternoon by coming home and finishing reading the end of Matthew- the resurrection, and spending some time thinking about the wonder and power of Jesus who is Lord over everthing including death. It was a good.

He has risen.

He has risen indeed.

books books books

In a few weeks we'll be heading back to Canada for a visit. While I'm in Canada I will be looking to read some new books. I already have a few ideas in mind of what to read while I'm there.... Anybody else got any books to recommend?

C'mon, don't be shy.

Yesterday I was reading the book "Six Hours One Friday" by Max Lucado. I was thinking about today- Good Friday. I was very moved by the following story....

It’s difficult to find beauty in death. It’s even more difficult to find beauty in a death camp. Especially Auschwitz. Four million Jews died there in World War II. A half-ton of human hair is still preserved. The showers that sprayed poison gas still stand.

But for all the ugly memories of Auschwitz there is one of beauty. It’s the memory Gajowniczek has of Maximilian Kolbe.

In February, 1941, Kolbe was incarcerated at Auschwitz. He was a Franciscan priest. In the harshness of the slaughterhouse he maintained the gentleness of Christ. He shared his food. He gave up his bunk. He prayed for his captors. He was soon given the nickname “Saint of Auschwitz.”

In July of that same year there was an escape from the prison. It was the custom at Auschwitz to kill ten prisoners for every one who escaped. All the prisoners would be gathered in the courtyard and the commandant would randomly select ten names from the roll book. These victims would be immediately taken to a cell where they would receive no food or water until they died.

The commandant begins calling the names. At each selection another prisoner steps forward to fill the sinister quota. The tenth name he calls is Gajowniczek.

As the SS officers check the numbers of the condemned, one of the condemned begins to sob. “My wife, my children,” he weeps.

The officers turn as they hear movements among the prisoners. The guards raise their rifles. The dogs tense, anticipating a command to attack. A prisoner has left his row and is pushing his way to the front.

It is Kolbe. No fear on his face. No hesitancy in his step. The capo shouts at him to stop or be shot. “I want to talk to the commander,” He says calmly. For some reason the officer doesn’t club or kill him. Kolbe stops a few paces from the commandant, removes his hat and looks the German officer in the eye.

“Herr Kommandant, I wish to make a request, please.”
That no one shot him is a miracle.
“I want to die in the place of this prisoner.” He points at the sobbing Gajowniczek. The audacious request is presented without stammer.
“I have no wife and no children. Besides, I am old and not good for anything. He’s in better condition.” Kolbe knew well the Nazi mentality.
“Who are you?” the officer asks.
“A Catholic priest.”
The block is stunned. The commandant, uncharacteristically speechless. After a moment, he barks, “Request granted”

Prisoners were never allowed to speak.
Gajowniczek says,
“I could only thank him with my eyes. I was stunned and could hardly grasp what was going on. The immensity of it: I, the condemned, am to live and someone else willingly and voluntarily offers his life for me- a stranger. Is this some dream?”

The Saint of Auschwitz outlived the other nine. In fact, he didn’t die of thirst or starvation. He died only after the camp doctor injected phenol into his heart. It was August 14, 1941.

Gajowniczek survived the holocaust. He made his way back to his hometown. Every year however he goes back to Auschwitz. Every August 14 he goes back to say thank you to the man who died in his place.

In his back yard there is a plaque. A plaque he carved with his own hands. A tribute to Maximillian Kolbe- the man who died so he could live.

- Max Lucado- from Six Hours One Friday

There's something about this story that reflects the beauty and depth of character of someone who is willing to give up their life for another. It reminded me of the unselfishness of Christ in His sacrifice of His own life in place of mine.

Good Friday is a special day to think about and remember what Christ did, and although I could never repay Him for what He did for me (and He doesn't expect that anyway) I hope that my life would be one that overflows with testimony of the goodness of God, the kindness of God, and the unselfishness of God.

4 Surely he took up our infirmities
and carried our sorrows,
yet we considered him stricken by God,
smitten by him, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
6 We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
each of us has turned to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.
7 He was oppressed and afflicted,
yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
and as a sheep before her shearers is silent,
so he did not open his mouth.
8 By oppressiond and judgment he was taken away.
And who can speak of his descendants?
For he was cut off from the land of the living;
for the transgression of my people he was stricken.
9 He was assigned a grave with the wicked,
and with the rich in his death,
though he had done no violence,
nor was any deceit in his mouth.

The Holy Bible : New International Version. 1996, c1984 (Is 53:4-9). Grand Rapids: Zondervan.

Thank You Lord Jesus, Thank You.


Note: This story was written by Max Lucado and published 1989. Franciszek Gajowniczek died in 1995 at age 95. 53 years after Maximillian Kolbe saved his life by giving his own.