September 24

Around the 24th of the month, I go into a bit of a melancholy mood. Today is no different. I wasn't picking up on it right away, and then it came to me a few months ago. It was March 24 that we lost our precious Margot June. Six months ago now.

One of the things I was looking forward to was to add Margot's picture to the photo display of grandchildren on my kitchen windows. Three are in Pier One frames that I got around the Christmas season several years ago. At the time, I only had three grands - Evee, Stella and Miles. The frame was meant to be a tree ornament, but my intent was to use it year around for this very purpose. The window pulls in our Budapest flat serve as a perfect place to hang the pictures. Now that I can no longer get the small frames, I purchased small round frames with a suction cup on the back to mount new additions - Iris and Margot - to the window display.

Even after Margot's death, I still wanted to add her picture. It's the only thing I have to remember her by. I purposely suctioned the frame near Stella's picture. Sisters.

Before we moved to Budapest, I bought a beaded tropical bird napkin ring (Pier One again :) that reminded me of a hummingbird. I only purchased one, not planning to use it as a napkin holder, but thinking I would find a place for it somewhere. I just liked it. I'm fascinated by hummingbirds. Love to watch them flit in and out of flowers, drinking in the sweet nectar.

Well, I've had it stored in my desk drawer all this time, because I hadn't found that special place. As soon as I put Margot's picture up, I thought of the hummingbird. The ring fit perfectly around the suction cup, and there the little bird stayed.

It seemed so fitting for Margot. The smallest of birds, feathers shimmering like that of a prism. Each little twist and turn producing iridescent colors in the sunlight. Flirting with flowers, they're here and gone, only to return again with the flutter of their wings humming in mid-air. Did you know they are the only group of birds that can fly backwards?

Tiny. Beautiful. Fascinating. It just seemed to be the perfect place... next to Margot's picture. I like to think of Margot flitting in and out of our lives. She flits in when I see a six-month old baby. She flutters about when I'm skyping with Stella. She dashes about when I think of our family spread across the world. The humming of her wings will always be a reminder of our sweet little Margot. I miss her.

Wings... see Josh's recent post on Stella's wings.

Stefanie & Ramona

Ramona and Stefanie

It was in July that I received an email from my sweet friend, Kathrin, who I wrote about on my blog three posts back. Her daughter, Stefanie, and friend, Ramona were backpacking for three weeks across Eastern Europe. They would be staying in hostels, but she wondered if they could stay with Dennis and I when they came to Hungary, one of the ten countries they were planning to visit.

The dates coincided with non-travel days for us. Of course, we would be delighted to host them in our home. And what a delight these twenty-something Swiss women were. Ramona's husband gave his blessing to a three-week separation since he was focusing on writing his thesis. Stefanie, an adventurer at heart, was set on seeing Eastern Europe by backpack and train before she headed to the states to work with inner-city children in New York City over the fall/winter months.

Taking them around our grand city of Budapest was a joy and a gift to me. I love the twenty-something age. Perhaps it's because I see the 20's as pivotal in my own life. Choices made in the 20's often determine the trajectory of life. So, it was a breath of fresh air to hang out with Ramona and Stefanie.

A grace-filled gift of summer 2011.

Sweeter Than Honey

In my last post I shared about my new Hungarian friend, Gyöngyvér, who was preparing for a lecture in her area of expertise, but needed to brush up on her English since the lecture was to be given in English. She was so grateful for my assistance that she kept finding ways to "pay" me.

One day when I arrived at her 4th story flat a bit earlier then the scheduled time, she greeted me at the door and then apologized that she had to leave for a few minutes to run down to the ground floor to meet someone she was expecting at the front gate.

She returned with a brown paper bag, and then with a big smile on her face, pulled out a big container filled with honey.

"This is for you!"

I took it and held it up to see honey so light and clear that I could practically see right through it. I gave her a big hug, thanking her for her thoughtfulness. She explained that the man she met at the door is from the countryside where he extracts honey from his hives. She had him deliver it that morning especially for me. She proceeded to tell me that Hungarian honey is some of the best around, especially when it comes straight from the countryside. "So pure and sweet."

I couldn't help but think what this gift meant to me. There are two places where the Psalmist speaks of honey in relationship to God's Word. When Gyöngyvér gave me the honey, I was instantly reminded of these two passages. 

From a portion of Psalm 19:
 The instructions of the Lord are perfect,
      reviving the soul.
   The decrees of the Lord are trustworthy,
      making wise the simple.
 The commandments of the Lord are right,
      bringing joy to the heart.
   The commands of the Lord are clear,
      giving insight for living.
 Reverence for the Lord is pure,
      lasting forever.
   The laws of the Lord are true;
      each one is fair.
 They are more desirable than gold,
      even the finest gold.
   They are sweeter than honey,
      even honey dripping from the comb.

And, Psalm 119:103:

How sweet your words taste to me;
      they are sweeter than honey. 

Like the bowl full of cherries that Gyöngyvér had given me just the week before, God was giving me gifts from nature that reminded me of His nature. What beautiful images of His love and grace. A reminder that the winter season does come to an end, that the leaves bud and the fruit blossoms, that the bees return to collect the nectar, and that He makes all things new once again.

Gyöngyvér's gift of honey was yet another grace-filled gift of summer 2011.

Side note: Did you know that honey naturally resists molds, fungi, and other bacteria, allowing it to last for years without refrigeration? :)

A Bowl Full of Cherries

One of the privileges I had this past summer was to come along side Gyöngyvér, a Hungarian psychologist, who was preparing to give a lecture in English at a conference in Vienna. A search for a native English speaker who could help her brush up on her English and make sure her lecture was grammatically correct ended up being me.

We met in her flat or at a coffee shop twice a week for four weeks editing her lecture document and working through the correct pronunciation of English words. She wanted to pay me for my services, but I kindly told her that I did not expect pay. I considered it a gift to be able to meet with her, getting to know her, and sharing our native language with each other.

Often times we caught the attention of other coffee patrons as we watched intently at how the other would form syllables or letters with proper lip formation or tongue placement.  I'm sure it looked like we were doing charades. We would lean in with our faces about a foot away from each other repeating back and forth the proper sound. It wouldn't be long until we would lose all composure, laughing at ourselves at how silly we must have looked and sounded.

It was after our second meeting that Gyöngyvér said she had something for me. She handed me a small gift bag filled with cherries. I have never been one to eat cherries, but I thanked her for her kindness.

I didn't give it much thought until I got home, washed the cherries, and poured them into a red bowl. And then it hit me. Life is like a bowl full of cherries. I smiled at the thought. I popped one into my mouth, squishing out the seed, surprised by the sweet and refreshing taste. Why had I not liked cherries before?

Dennis was gone for several weeks at the time. I ate the whole bowl of cherries in a matter of days. Every time I popped one into my mouth it was a reminder of God's goodness and grace even when life isn't always like a bowl full of cherries. Gyöngyvér's gift was indeed a grace-filled gift of summer 2011.

Kathrin

 
The first time I met Kathrin was in May. She was attending a conference in Budapest that Dennis and I had registered for as well. My stateside friend, Marlae, had emailed me to let me know that Kathrin was going to be in the city and encouraged me to get together with her. Kathrin is from Switzerland and fills the role of Moms In Touch (MITI) Regional Director in Europe, while Marlae serves as Executive Vice President for MITI.

Little did I know what a grace-filled gift she would be! Kathrin radiates with joy. Her love for Jesus is contagious. We met several times in a matter of days, and just like that, I felt like I had found a life-long friend. We shared deeply, prayed together, and laughed together. She was a breath of spiritual fresh air!

One evening we sat outside the conference center on a park bench following the dinner hour. I read out loud from Isaiah 40:26-31 - verses I have known for years, but Marlae had recently sent them in an email as an encouraging reminder. I needed to be reminded that God never grows weary or tired. That his understanding has no limits. That he gives new energy to the tired and worn out; fresh strength to the powerless. That he is the Creator of all the earth.

Just as I was nearing the end of the chapter, I felt drops on my arms. I finished the passage a bit puzzled as to where the drops were coming from. Was there a bird in the tree above us? It was a beautiful day with blue skies and sunshine. I soon realized that I was feeling the first drops of a fine spring rain. 

"Kathrin, it's raining." We looked at each other with wonder, and then we started to laugh. Kathrin said the Holy Spirit was raining down on us. It seemed so fitting. We immediately stood up searching the sky for a rainbow. Though we didn't find one, we were certain there must have been one hiding behind trees and buildings that were blocking our view. 

In a matter of minutes, the rain stopped as quickly as it had started. We saw it as an expression of God's trustworthy nature that we had just read about minutes earlier.

We sat back down on the bench to pick up where we left off.  Kathrin took my Bible and suggested that since my friend Marlae couldn't be with me, she would pray those precious verses from Isaiah over me for her! Very deliberately she softly and slowly prayed the scriptures, sometimes repeating a phrase three times to let it soak into my being. 

Don't you know that the Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of all the earth? 
He never grows faint or weary... He never grows faint or weary... He never grows faint or weary. 
No one can measure the depths of his understanding. 
He gives power to those who are tired and worn out... He gives power to those who are tired and worn out. 
He offers strength to the weak. He offers strength to the weak.

I don't think I'll ever forget that day that Kathrin and I sat on the park bench. The Holy Spirit "rained" down on us in more ways than one.

Kathrin was (and still is) a timely gift. She is one of my grace-filled gifts of summer 2011.