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To Change or Not To Change
There was a moment when it hit me. Deep down, I knew it would never be the same again. Although things looked identical, my relationship with them had somehow changed. My friends were still there, yet my connection to them differed in ways I could not explain. I was an 18-year-old young man and home for the first time after leaving high school, and I was confronted with the reality that I had changed. And this scared me. On the one hand, this community has brought me comfort and security; now, it no longer gives me the same feelings. On the other hand, the thought of me changing made me…
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One Year Later
One year ago, we moved across the globe to Switzerland and began a new chapter in our lives. It feels like just yesterday that we put our belongings on a boat, said our goodbyes, and boarded a plane to a new country with a one-way ticket. It certainly has been a great adventure thus far. Here are ten quick observations and thoughts on our first year in Switzerland: Amy and I are amazed at the overwhelming beauty that this country has to offer. It seems that no matter where we go, either into the mountains or walking the streets of a new city or village, the scenic landscapes captivate us…
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Time is Love
The thoughts blow in uninvited during certain times of our lives. And the feelings accompanying these thoughts make us pause, at least for a moment, and wonder how the days of our lives keep coming and going like the sea tide under our feet. Sometimes, we welcome these thoughts and can wrestle with a greater truth. On other occasions, we don’t or just can’t. So, we move quickly to replace them with thoughts we believe will make us happier. Or, at the very least, thoughts that masquerade the reality of our current state. Nevertheless, whether we welcome or resist them, we have no power over the truth of where these…
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The Corner of Church and Gay
The other day, a friend asked me where I come from. “What part of the world is it?” “What is it like?” My answer was quick, as we had to begin our days…but her questions lingered long after we said our goodbyes. As I drove away, I considered the simplicity of my answer and how little my description conveyed the beauty of my hometown. The more I drove, the more my thoughts painted a picture of the wealthy town we just left here in Switzerland. I thought about the buildings, the parks, the restaurants, the people. Finally, I thought about the corner of Church and Gay Streets. So much so…
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Die Hausmann (The Houseman)
Honestly, the first time I was called, it rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was because of the accent “HA-ous-Mah-n.” Perhaps it was because it was something that I never identified myself with before. I mean to answer a question posed by strangers, “Was tun Sie hier in der Schweiz zu tun?” (What do you do here in Switzerland?) “Ich bin eine Hausmann” (I am a Houseman) is awkward. On the one hand, it sounds way too formal for washing floors and toilets. On the other hand, it sounds like I should be getting paid for this. And that’s the thing. There lies the rub. Being a Hausmann has…
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Hope and Home
Walking through the familiar door into the place I called home for most of my childhood and teenage years brought contentment and, yet, a sense of conflict. I knew what stair created the loudest creak. I knew what seat gave the best view of the TV. Looking up at night, I knew the shadows on the ceiling before I fell asleep. This was my home during some of the most influential times of my life. This was my home that gave birth to great joy, great sorrow, and great love. This was my home. And yet, I was a visitor. For this was my parent’s home. Pulling up to the…
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Paris, Death, and Uncertainty
It has been one week since evil raised its head in Paris. One week. One week of news reports about those who carried out these attacks. One week of wondering how this could happen again. One week of speculating what and who is next. There was a moment last Saturday afternoon, less than 24 hours from the time the first bullets flew and the first bombs detonated when I watched my four-year-old son play outside as if there was no evil in the world. He played with such intensity and vigor as if death had not shown its head less than four hours away in a city we had recently visited. And then came…
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The Crumbs of Holiness
A couple of days ago, I had a temper tantrum over the ever-present crumbs that continue to find their home in our house. Some like to live on our kitchen floor; some would rather stay on the countertops, and some like the view of our dining area from underneath the table. As much as I try to escort them out of our house with a ride in the vacuum, their friends seem to take their places immediately. It is a battle that is never-ending. And one that triggers things within me that are not pleasant. Now, I don’t have to look very far to see who the usual culprits are.…
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The Volto Santo
A few weeks ago, while on our trip to Italy, we visited Lucca. In the Tuscany region, Lucca is believed to have been founded around 180 BC. It is a beautiful place, and I highly recommend it if you ever visit the Tuscany region. The Cathedral of St. Martin is located within the city’s walled area. Inside the cathedral is the Chapel of the Holy Face, or the Volto Santo, also known as the Holy Cross. The small chapel contains a walnut crucifix showing Christ wearing a tunic. Yet it is the face, the Volto Santo, that grabbed me. Like all old relics, the Volto Santo is surrounded by history,…
