You can't tell, but under this bridge, about 4 minutes walk from my apartment, sleeps a homeless man.  I hardly recognized him as being human until I closely examined him.  As I walked by during my routine, morning walk, there he slept.  Under the bridge.  Accompanied by the smell of urine.  The traffic rumbling overhead.  His dirty socks were airing out on a ledge.  His shoes neatly aligned next to his body.  He slept in a sleeping bag.  His other belongings were gathered in a tidy form serving as a pillow.  Out of respect, I took the picture after I passed him.  I somehow wanted to preserve some sense of his dignity - one human to another.  I could give him that.

Lately my family and I have begun to struggle - for the first time since living abroad - about the concept of "home".  Where is "home"?  Honestly, we feel a bit in transition mode.  I always pay attention to this mode, knowing there is probably a healthy tension that is going to come to the surface.

I've come to believe that tension is always a way of God moving you from one comfort zone to another.  What once seemed foreign, odd, strange, awkward, not doable, impossible, really scary - becomes "normal".  Comfort zones are like invisible circles that get drawn around you.  When you expand that zone, your circle increases in size.  You are now prepared to handle another circumstance that will force you to make yet another choice.  Embrace another thing that caused you at first to tremble, allow it to be walked through, and then encounter achievement OR ... don't.  Your circle increases - OR it doesn't.

Home.  Right now it's where I am.  As I explore what that looks like - or may look like - and freak out a little about the possible expanding of a comfort zone - I will remember my fellow human.  His home is under a bridge.  It puts everything into perspective.

Grateful for clean socks,
Christina

Walking through the streets of Vienna last night, on an impromptu dinner date with my Chris, I was struck by the way the city has been transformed. We’ve been here long enough to see and expect certain changes in the climate. It’s always fascinating to see the “mood” change as well.

One of the most endearing things about the city is the transient phases of everyday life. When it’s pumpkin season, every café and Gasthaus serves up its own unique recipe of pumpkin soup, pumpkin schnitzel, and pumpkin ___________. And then, just as quick as the season opens, it closes. The same scenario is created with sekt, asparagus, rhubarb, ice cream, and September wine.

Right now we are seeing a new chapter and a new “mood” change. This is our first spring/summer in our new place. We are nestled right on the edge of the city center. We are only a 2 minutes’ walk from the Donau Kanal were we are privy to summer stage performances, outdoor cafes, night life full of bars, clubs and outdoor volleyball courts that are open into the wee hours of the night. After our long walk out and about last night, let me tell you … it’s a jungle out there! But, I love it!

After an adventurous diner of falafel and babaganash (my new favorite word), Chris and I just walked through the city where tourists are still in awe of the architecture and ambience that we now call “home”. As we promenaded through the masses of people, we got a kick out of the men dressed up in Mozart costumes trying to sell the unsuspecting tourist concert tickets. We chuckled (not in a condescending way but in a “that’s so typical” and “isn’t that so cute” way) at the Asian tourists posing by every statue making peace signs. We shook our heads at the young girls bopping about in 6 inch heels and shorts. How do they do that?


As we passed stores that sell shoes more expensive than the total of all my monthly bills combined, I brought up the topic of having plenty. I sometimes feel tension about all the plenty that surrounds us. As a follower of Jesus, I read that true religion comes from helping the poor, the orphans and widows. There are very few poor in these streets and orphans and widows are hidden. I don’t have an answer for that.

Anyway, we heard singing on the Graben (a walkway that strolls through the inner city that is unapproachable by cars). This has become a familiar voice to us. We first heard this voice one Christmas. We were drawn by the depth and volume … thinking the voice was amplified only to find out it came from a sole woman, blind, and singing the most glorious opera from her heart. Holding a plastic bucket to receive coins from those passing by, we were pulled into her space by … the voice. Chris went up to her and thanked her for sharing her gift, left a business card and a few euro.

This past Christmas, as we walked the Graben, we heard the voice again. This time, Chris was eager to find out more about the person who possessed such a gift. Armed with more German and a greater interest, he proceeded to find out that she and her husband both sing. They come to Vienna from Bratislava to “work the seasons” and earn extra money. Again, Chris affirmed her gift and shared his faith in a Creator God with this beautiful woman possessing such a wonderful voice.

So last night as we heard the singing, we instantly recognized it and followed her melody until we found her. As she sang, she held her plastic bucket in one hand and her cane to help her navigate the streets in the other. Again, we were drawn in.

We decided to just take a seat on a bench and listen … and pray. At the closing on her song, Chris approached her with another business card and more euros. We wanted to bless her. As Chris entered into conversation with her, he found out that she and her husband both studied Opera. They come to Vienna during peak tourist season to work the streets. Her husband has performed on several stages and she has a website displaying her talent. A year and a half ago, they lost a 17 year old daughter to a childhood heart disorder. In her words, they have their music, each other, and the knowledge that their beloved daughter is in a better place.

Chris once again shared his faith … and the hope he has that he will see loved ones again in a place called heaven. That’s a promise that comes through an authentic faith in Jesus Christ. She concurred his believe, saying that God is all she has … I hope that to be true and have no reason to believe it is not.

We walked away from our encounter speechless … and grateful that our “troubles” are just light and momentary afflictions in comparison to what our new friend, the voice … Alexandra has experienced.

Just moments later, making our way in silence through the mass of people, we pass a young man sitting on the sidewalk. He is unkempt, has a face full of hair, and locks that are tied back in a pony tail. He keeps a firm stare on the pavement and a tight grip on a paper cup that longs to be filled with coins. We pass him.

I feel that lightening in my spirit that tells me I am being called to action. I am somewhat hesitant because of his looks, but he is such a young man … barely 20. I grab a coin and march back toward him. As I drop my coin in the paper cup, I tell him that I am giving him this in the name of Jesus. Then, feeling in my head that I simply want to walk away, I know in my heart that Jesus is telling me to sit next to him and ask him if I can pray for him. This is when he looks up from the cold stare with eyes fixed to the ground. He looks at me and I see someone’s son … he is not much older than my Addy. He pauses for a minute, and when I ask him again if I can pray for him he nods yes. Feeling overcome with emotion, all I can pray is that he will know how very much Jesus loves him. My prayer was short. Afterwards, I feel the need to touch his dirty face. I do, and he grabs my hand in such a tender way I shed tears. I get up, walk away, and return to Chris.

God is so gracious. In the middle of much, he showed us the poor, the orphans … those who needed to see Jesus. However, perhaps the most powerful thing was that he used us. I believe in my spirit that when God chooses to act, it is always about obedience above our own logic. Why do we always think those orphans and poor are lacking. More and more I realize it is I … in my plenty … that is often more lacking. What I lack in compassion and ability to see past the reality of appearances, God see’s the total picture. When I choose to elevate myself above the one on the street, it is I who am poor. Who, last night, was the one in need?

Let me first start off by saying I am using my little, tiny, microscopic mini computer. The key board is 2 inches wide and the screen must be only 5 inches wide (alas, I exagerate!). There is no spell check (which I desperately need when I write!!) So, up front, I may ... I will ... have many mispelled words and horrible spacing issues but it's what I've got today and I'm going to make the best of it! (Chris has the adult computer.)

This weekend was an Elledge Girl Fest. Parker had an all-day tournament in Bratislava on Saturday. This was the last basketball tournament of the season. It was a lot of fun driving a van full of middle-school girls! I learned a new word: Wacked. I'm now trying to use my new word in as many converstations and contexts as possible. For example, because I'm using my little baby computer for this post ... it's wacked!

This weekend Addison had the privledge of singing in an honor choir comprised of students from 10 different countries from all over Europe. Sunday they performed at a wonderfully historic church, Saint Francis of Asissi, to an audience that had their buns warmed by pew seat heaters! Really! It was rather chilly for this time of year in the old church due to the massive concrete walls. Much to our joy, as we sat down our bums experienced warmth ... that later prooved too much warmth during the concert. Let's just say we all have a new visual for "hot cross buns"!

Despite my extreeme pride and joy over and about my girls activities this weekend, the highlight of my weekend was my Sunday morning walk. Now that the weather is nice, I feel compelled to be outside. Yesterday was unusually warm and sunny. As I've come to discover about myself, I need the outdoors. I need to be in the outdoors. I have to see plants, smell dirt, kick rocks, sit on grass, and smell like a puppy from having been outdoors. It makes me tick.

Since moving, and having no outside garden or any patios, it has been way too long since I've been outdoors for any extended period of time and my inner nature girl was calling. I took to the streets. I began walking. An hour and half later I ended up back home, energized, refreshed and feeling back in touch with me (ok, yes ... and smelled like a puppy!).



My first leg of my journey took to me Stadt Park. Literally translated, Stadt Park means City Park. This is a great park located in the heart of the city. There are great walking and biking paths, ponds, ducks, great gardens, cafe's, and the typical tourists that flock to see a gold statue of ... someone famous. Anyway, I had never really explored this area so I did. It was quaint. I loved it. However, upon first entering the park from the east entrance, where most people were not entering the park as it it not the main entrance, I saw several homeless vagrants taking advantage of the nice weather. As they lay on park benches, I began to notice commonalities: all were snuggled under sleeping bags or under blankets, all had their faces hidden, all had their feet exposed, all had their belongings either tucked underneath them or next to them in carts, and they all smelled. To me, they resembled human cocoons.

I was so transfixed by this sight I choose to sit close by them and just do a bit of observing. Here's what I saw:

1. Most park visitors either ignored them or stared unashamedly at them.
2. No one else sat near them.
3. None of the cocoon people seemed to care or notice that they were in public.
4. It was very apparent that what pitiful belongings they had, they guarded with extreeme caution.

I found myself wanting to strike up a conversation with one of the cocoon people. I even whispered a prayer that God would allow me to have an encounter with one of them if I was supposed to. However, none of them stired. It was midmorning and they all slept, undisturbed, unconcerned, and unprotected.

I couldn't get them off my mind. Sensing it was time for me to move on, I did, but not without saying some prayers for these human-like cocoons. I didn't know what to pray ... but prayed anyway.

As I often do, I see things in parallels. I began to look at the cocoon people on the park benches as a great modern day parable for most presentable people in the world today. Those with regular paychecks and those I discovered in the park yesterday aren't really so different.

We all kinda create our own cocoon don't we? We all snuggle under something to hide from the world, to shut out reality. We hide our faces from something ... because we fear what we see or we fear that what we see will require something of us. We all "expose our feet" sometimes ... exposing small parts of us that allow us to test the water around us to see how safe it is. We all hold tightly to our "baggage". It may not be worth much, but it's ours. We fear someone will take it and although it may not serve any purpose, it makes us feel secure.

If you subscribe to the Biblical world-view that humans are created by God, all equal and loved ... seeing the cocoon people yesterday made me want to examine my own cocoon. I don't want to live life that way ... huddled, covered, hidden away from the world. I don't believe we were created to live that way. I want to bust out of that cocoon, sprout my wings, and fly! (I know, it's corny but it works!)