It was a response to his question do you know what page you would like as a poster. Whilst there are many immediately this one was on top of my thoughts.
Monday, 24 June 2013
My favourite comic book page
I was at a friends describing one of my favourite comic book stories and one of the characters involved has this dialogue that is comic book writing at its finest.
It was a response to his question do you know what page you would like as a poster. Whilst there are many immediately this one was on top of my thoughts.
It was a response to his question do you know what page you would like as a poster. Whilst there are many immediately this one was on top of my thoughts.
Saturday, 22 June 2013
Thursday, 20 June 2013
Today is World Refugee Day
The question before me is "What would you take?"
Here is the picture:
My parents were asked to leave a country.
They were only allowed one suitcase. They passed 17 check points.
They were locked in massive areas with a sea of other people for long periods without access to facilities.
They boarded the refugee plane. They pleaded with stewardess for water for their parched baby.
We were saved through others coming to get us.
We were saved through others coming to help us.
We are grateful and remember those who are "asked" to leave their countries.
Today is world refugee day.
Here is the picture:
My parents were asked to leave a country.
They were only allowed one suitcase. They passed 17 check points.
They were locked in massive areas with a sea of other people for long periods without access to facilities.
They boarded the refugee plane. They pleaded with stewardess for water for their parched baby.
We were saved through others coming to get us.
We were saved through others coming to help us.
We are grateful and remember those who are "asked" to leave their countries.
Today is world refugee day.
Tuesday, 18 June 2013
Thanksgiving
Today I was at a thanksgiving service for someone I did not know yet I felt I knew him. I work with his son. I know little of the father yet here I was amongst family, friends and other giving thanks for a father, husband, brother and friend to the people here.
I found myself welling up with the lovely testimonials and stories of him. All the qualities described were ones that this family had exhibited to me. As a patriarch I felt his character come through.
It was extraordinary how much he came through his children and wife.
We ended singing a great hymn of "it is well with my soul". Even now I'm humming and hearing the deep voices of the people next to me. It is indeed well with my soul that I have known of "Robbie Gurney".
Monday, 17 June 2013
More from Syria and a Father's Day Poem
Forwards, posting, hashtagging. All means to share information. Sometimes welcome, sometimes an intrusion.
Sharing can be a wonderful thing. I heard from two people something that touched me. Without being something impersonal to pass on. These were thoughts that were personal and something that captured a moment for them.
So I too will share these moments of some of my friends.
The first is from my friend currently in Beirut, I have shared from her in the past, who had a brief moment which she captured beautifully here:
Sharing can be a wonderful thing. I heard from two people something that touched me. Without being something impersonal to pass on. These were thoughts that were personal and something that captured a moment for them.
So I too will share these moments of some of my friends.
The first is from my friend currently in Beirut, I have shared from her in the past, who had a brief moment which she captured beautifully here:
Beyrouth, Beirut. just when the heart feels heavy, I am reminded that we humans are and were never meant to walk this journey alone. found myself laughing the other night as I walked along the Corniche in Beirut, arm and arm with two kindred spirits whose souls mine feels as if it has known since another lifetime. there, the sea breeze gave me cause to breathe freely, as the sound of crashing waves in the dark humbled me to remember that the world's capacity for grief is so much bigger than ours, or mine. I find comfort in being so small.
And there we were, the strangest trio strolling by the sea - a beautiful Lebanese man, a blind Palestinian and a Chinese girl smiling at the children running around her as we walked as one... strolling past the families having a midnight picnic on the stone benches, the toddlers throwing glowsticks into the night sky, the young teenagers rollerblading fast by us, the old men fishing in the sea....
We met a coffee peddler with an unexpectedly American accent and an ancient face who said he'd taken the Star Ferry back and forth in Hong Kong years before I'd even been born. as if to remind us we were indeed in Beirut, the most pimped out BMW with a top of the line, blinged-out subwoofer built into the boot blasted Arabic pop music for all to hear. all the while, we searched for the blind Syrian beggar Abu Abed, who had told her about those who take advantage of the vulnerable. I worried that he disappeared back across the border in search of his house that had been destroyed. she said, "habibte inti - do not worry. that burden is not yours to bear". Her wisdom gave me pause. Her faith gave me peace.
Looking out at the neon lights of the city that sparkled and beckoned to us in the distance, for a moment I felt as if we were by Victoria Harbour in Hong Kong. not so much because I was homesick - but because in that moment, I felt at home with those twin souls. "the sea is my weakness", she had said. "and you two are mine", said I. Their love softened a fortnight of feeling suffocated like a caged bird, not least because the Bekaa, one of the places I work in the field was hit by 7 missiles in one day and I had been ordered by security to stay put, admittedly because I have a tendency to disobey such orders. But their peace demanded more of my faith in the promise that God provides, even in the week that the UN estimated 100,000 Syrians killed in this ongoing inhumane carnage.
As my week starts anew, I meditate on my twin soul's faith that His Will will not lead me where His Grace cannot keep me. and pray that I may always be joyful to walk with others, just as two angels have walked with me. — with Christie Pang and 2 others.
And there we were, the strangest trio strolling by the sea - a beautiful Lebanese man, a blind Palestinian and a Chinese girl smiling at the children running around her as we walked as one... strolling past the families having a midnight picnic on the stone benches, the toddlers throwing glowsticks into the night sky, the young teenagers rollerblading fast by us, the old men fishing in the sea....
We met a coffee peddler with an unexpectedly American accent and an ancient face who said he'd taken the Star Ferry back and forth in Hong Kong years before I'd even been born. as if to remind us we were indeed in Beirut, the most pimped out BMW with a top of the line, blinged-out subwoofer built into the boot blasted Arabic pop music for all to hear. all the while, we searched for the blind Syrian beggar Abu Abed, who had told her about those who take advantage of the vulnerable. I worried that he disappeared back across the border in search of his house that had been destroyed. she said, "habibte inti - do not worry. that burden is not yours to bear". Her wisdom gave me pause. Her faith gave me peace.
Looking out at the neon lights of the city that sparkled and beckoned to us in the distance, for a moment I felt as if we were by Victoria Harbour in Hong Kong. not so much because I was homesick - but because in that moment, I felt at home with those twin souls. "the sea is my weakness", she had said. "and you two are mine", said I. Their love softened a fortnight of feeling suffocated like a caged bird, not least because the Bekaa, one of the places I work in the field was hit by 7 missiles in one day and I had been ordered by security to stay put, admittedly because I have a tendency to disobey such orders. But their peace demanded more of my faith in the promise that God provides, even in the week that the UN estimated 100,000 Syrians killed in this ongoing inhumane carnage.
As my week starts anew, I meditate on my twin soul's faith that His Will will not lead me where His Grace cannot keep me. and pray that I may always be joyful to walk with others, just as two angels have walked with me. — with Christie Pang and 2 others.
The second is a poem on Father's Day from a friend about caring for his Father in his last days:
Strange to watch you Dad, become a stone.
In childhood, you were our rock;
we climbed you, we clambered over you,
we built our home
on you.
Now the wind weathers you,
time, rain and hail hammer you;
you don’t flinch.
Moss grows on you, insects burrow
into the deep-lined cracks of your face.
I enter the room;
you don’t respond.
And my small mother, determined,
hauls you this way, hauls you that way,
rolls you to where the sun can warm you;
you don’t flinch.
and I leave you both,
you, unmoving, but leaving,
and my mother, a tender Sisyphus,
rolling our rock
up the hill.
In childhood, you were our rock;
we climbed you, we clambered over you,
we built our home
on you.
Now the wind weathers you,
time, rain and hail hammer you;
you don’t flinch.
Moss grows on you, insects burrow
into the deep-lined cracks of your face.
I enter the room;
you don’t respond.
And my small mother, determined,
hauls you this way, hauls you that way,
rolls you to where the sun can warm you;
you don’t flinch.
and I leave you both,
you, unmoving, but leaving,
and my mother, a tender Sisyphus,
rolling our rock
up the hill.
Sunday, 16 June 2013
Wednesday, 12 June 2013
On my way
Tickets confirmed.
1815 arrival for 1915 seating at the Odeon Leicester Square.
Man of Steel premiere here I come.
Feeling utterly blessed. :)
Premiere
Waiting and walking right now.
Walking to a meeting. Waiting for a call.
The call could be an great light for the UK premiere screening of Man of Steel.
Pretty excited. Even wearing my superman pants. Not on the outside. Not yet!
Sunday, 9 June 2013
Saturday, 8 June 2013
Wednesday, 5 June 2013
Time of month
This week I was learning.
I learnt that girls are not allowed to school because of their time of month. Specifically as they do not have the towels to keep the classrooms clean. Every month, pretty much by clockwork, girls forfeit their classrooms, their teachers, their classmates just because it's "that" time.
I was told that education is number one thing. A young 11 year old flood survivor the other week was telling me how proud he was to start school but a month ago. In a Haitian slum repeatedly a school builder said education is his number one goal.
Still learning... even now... especially now
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