Flashback Friday - Memphis Fun

A warm August day in 2007

Visiting Mud Island in Memphis

Good memories, and great times!

 Fun on the tram ride over to the island.

A sweet cousin with the Memphis Pyramid in the background.

The kids at some of the tributaries before the river begins.

gotta love the "quick-I'm-getting-wet" faces. :-)

A quick trip out west. ;-)

Always time for a little visit 'home'.

Racing shoes down the river.

Nanni's being careful heading out of 'Memphis'.

Cooling down...

and getting wet.

Taking a moment to dry off.

Wordless Wednesday - Stacking Cousins

Pain...

Pain is often the beginning of a journey.

I don't know how often it starts us moving, but I think it's a major cause.  To me, there are two responses to pain: sit in it, or move on.

I have sat in pain.  

It doesn't change the pain.  It acknowledges it;  it experiences its depth and edges; sitting in it can even allow me to learn from it.  The pain may lesson with time, but it remains, a place of tenderness, or perhaps a scar.

I have also been pushed by pain.  When the sitting in it just doesn't work.  Maybe there's too much pain to handle, or perhaps, it's a pain that's paralyzing.  Sometimes, I think, one pain can lead to another, they can feed from each other or avalanche into one another.  I can't sit in these pains. 

It's too much.  I must move.

I think it's easy to sit where we're comfortable.  There's no reason to move when surrounded by comfort, little motivation to change or adjust.  I've felt this too.  I tell myself I'm growing or changing, beginning a new direction, but I like the steadiness of what I've known. 

I don't think pain is like that.  Pain demands a reaction.  We can choose to sit, but that is a choice.

Pain moves us.  It shapes us.

I'm not sure I like that.
But I guess I don't have to, eh?

Netball

An American playing netball is kinda like... 

well, I don't know what it's like... think of something that's a bit out-of-place and slightly awkward and that's what it'd be like. 

If an American is going to play a game that involves a court, two teams, a round ball that can bounce, a rim (aka, 'raised goal'), and passing and shooting, that game will be BASKETBALL.  And to come clean,

I am not even a mediocre basketball player.  

I coached a bit, but only because I was a parent and made my sister help.  (and even then, there were some very frightening, uneducated coaching moments... but that's a different story)

Netball is one sport that isn't big in the states.  I don't think it's there at all.  I hear some Netball Ambassadors went over to spread the sport... but I've never heard what the outcome was. 

But, it's HUGE here! 

It's mainly a girls' sport, although there are co-ed teams.  One funny rule is that when you play, you have to wear a skirt. (just the girls, silly)  It's kinda like a tennis skirt.  If you don't have yours, you can't get on the court.  (I learned that today... had trackies on and that just didn't work)

It's a fabulous and fun game!  I play alongside some very patient and amazing women who are willing to put up with my mistakes and teach me as we go. 

They've accepted me where I'm at, 

and are helping to move me forward in the game.  

What a treasure.

I am by no means good, but I try and have fun. :-)   Have a look...

This is before the game... I look confused, that's normal ;-)

The player with the ball is actually 'trimming' a nail.

The refs check fingernails before the game to make sure they're not too long.

Safety first.

(and we're stretching... that's important too)

Just a look at the court (sorta) and the different outfits.

In the back, the other team is wearing bodysuit type skirts.

We're not that official... I like our uniforms heaps.

Oh, and on the left, on player is practicing shooting.

Only certain players can shoot, depending on your position.

I am not one of those players!

(I can barely make a basket when there's a backboard helping)

Certain players are allowed in certain parts of the court.

The position I'm playing here (Wing Defense.. my only position) isn't allowed in the circle.

So, I stopped. (sometimes I forget)

This is a common occurrence...

I'm standing beside an opposing player because I've been called on a 'foul'.

(not sure if that's really what it's called)

You can't touch or run into the other players... 

But they stop too fast, so I get 'pulled up' often.

An action shot!

I'm trying to make sure the player in front of me doesn't get the ball.

And I'm really concentrating! 

Hope you enjoyed this little netball journey with me. 

Flashback Friday - Sibling Sweetness

It's hard to believe they were ever so little!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ball pit fun when D was 5  years and B was 19 months.

A day when we met Nanni for lunch and fun somewhere in Michigan.

A different view...

Recently I chatted w/ some folks about Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan.  You know the one?  The guy gets beat up and robbed while journeying some where and left for dead.  When the religious men pass by, they choose to keep walking, leaving him in his pain and trouble.  Then, when a man who's looked down upon and seen as unworthy passes by, he chooses to stop.  He chooses to show love and care for the man.

I've often read this story and heard lessons about it that focus on encouraging us to be the one who shows love, the person who will take time and effort to care.  And that's

very true and valid.  

We need to see those hurting, those in need as our 'neighbor' and love them as ourselves.  (which is quite a big lesson and pretty hard to do, especially if they're different from us)

But, I started thinking about the often overlooked character in this story, the beaten man.  We don't know much about him except that he was a man walking down the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. Those would have both been Israelite cities.  Could the speculate that he was an Israelite too?  And if so,

what would he feel 

when he watched his "brothers", those who should love him, walk by as if he was too unimportant to notice?  What feelings would he have for those men after he healed physically?  For the men who represent his God and who didn't seem to care at all for his pain?

And then, what feelings would he have for the man who did stop and help him heal?  A man who the religious people saw as an outcast, as unworthy, as unacceptable.  Yet, a man who was able to show love through his actions.  How would the hurt man see him now?   

I feel like the beaten man, struggling and in pain, stopped in my journey.  I have watched as some who claim to be my "brothers" pass by unconcerned, show in their actions they want nothing to do with me.  I have also experienced those who others consider "unclean" or "unacceptable" stop, take time, show me love and invest to help heal my wounds.  I know my view of these groups has altered;  I wonder if it was the same for the man in the story.

Wordless Wednesday - Kids & Kebabs

He says it well...

I read a bunch of blogs.  I like hearing peoples' thoughts and perspectives.  I enjoying using their thoughts to refine my own.

I find blogs to read through people I know and often end up reading blogs of people who just have interesting things to share. 

One blog I like is written by a missionary in Costa Rica.  I don't know him.  I don't even know which tradition he belongs to.  I do know that what he writes is reflective and honest.  It reads as though he's not afraid to be himself, warts and all.  He thinks and makes me think.  I don't have to agree with all he says, but thinking is good.

I've had some thoughts about 'chruch-y' things and how they can be off-putting.  I don't have the words to share what he does so well.

So, if you're interested in thinking a bit today, and maybe even reflecting a bit on yourself, have a look...
"I'm Not a Role Model"

Driving Differently

After our quick trip to the States and returning back in Oz, I noticed a difference in the way we drive.  (no silly, i've known for a while that Aussies drive on the left side of the road... shesh. ;-)  )

When I drive in the US, I use the "emergency brake" when I park on hills, just to make sure the car doesn't roll anywhere after I've parked it.  (who knows, it could go for a joy ride w/out me and what fun would that be??)

However, whenever we stop to park anywhere here, we use that same break.  No matter where I park... on a hill, in a parking garage, or in a driveway (sometimes those are really inclined!).  Perhaps that's why it's called the "hand brake" here.  It's used more often than just for 'emergencies'.

I don't know why I'll pull the break here as soon as I park, but I've never done it in the states.  Kinda odd.

(oh, and to give full credit, it was first the wonderful hubby who noticed this unusual phenomena. pretty perceptive.)

The Brenna Show

I am so impressed by what the little girl has been up to recently.  She has found somethings that she enjoys and has fully committed herself to them.  It's both inspiring and tiring to watch.  :-)

She's discovered a passion and love for performing and has immersed herself in that.  She's part of an African drumming group as well as a dance troupe at school.  She's also earned a solo spot in a song performance for her music class and is involved in a public speaking club.  And that's just the activities she's doing in school.  (Can ya understand about the tiring aspect??  I am, she's not)

In a couple weeks her school is celebrating Education Week where they'll take a day and share some of the activities that are being done at Mt. Brown Primary.

When a teacher asked B what she'd be doing for the day, she rattled off her list of performances.  The teacher replied, "Maybe we should call it the 'Brenna Show'."  That made her smile.  It's great to see her getting involved and enjoying her Year 6 so much.