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I’ve had this shirt for 20 years. I’ve only worn it once. Actually, twenty years, and a day.

You’ve likely heard the phrase “it takes a year and a day to get there”. Well, here we are, and it feels like mere moments have passed.

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The shirt became my property around 3:30 AM, May the 20th, 1992 as Little Frau was being sped into emergency surgery to allow Little Frauline to make a safe arrival into this world. It seems she’s always been a busy bee, and had herself entangled sufficient to prevent moving on to more productive activities.

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Breaking free was a lesson she did not have to be instructed on twice. In fact, she’s become quite the social ninja, if you will. She’s been to Japan and back, and many points in between. And today, at 4:05 AM, she turned 20 years of age. I’m glad to call her a friend.

Today, I have been cleaning out my closet. Some things are trash, some are garage sale fodder, but others carry more sentimental value and deserve a good home. I think I will give the scrub shirt to the Frauline. I shan’t be wearing it again. It just wouldn’t be the same.

So, Happy Birthday, Hannah. Love you so.

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“This feels like a dream; like I woke up and had never gone anywhere”.

She came home today. So did dozens of other students who’d been traveling the world of late. Some in Europe, others in the Far East, each now adjusting to their new normal back in the U.S.

New normals include the little things, like driving on the right side of the road, the English language all around you, and a shocking departure from accustomed culture. New normals also mean the small group with which you’ve shared your life over recent months won’t be together again, at least not in the same way.

Only hours after getting off the plane, reunions with friends were already underway. As “Little Frauline-Sahn” was not ready to drive anywhere other than the left side of the road, I gave her a quick shuttle over to where the gang was assembling.

On my way home, the 80’s Aldo Nova tune “Fantasy” was playing on the old
guy radio station. Portions of the lyrics were eerily relevant to the moment:

City Nights
Summer breeze makes you feel alright
Neon-lights
Shining brightly make you brain ignite…

…See the men pain their faces and cry
Like some girl, it makes you wonder why

City life
Sure is cool, but it cuts like a knife, it’s your life
So forget all that you see
It’s not reality, it’s just a fantasy
Can’t you see what this crazy life is doing to me

Life is just a fantasy, can you live this fantasy life

In actuality, life is not just a fantasy, even though it passes by quickly.

Now, Alboy ever growing to be that tall? That is a fantasy, most likely. Maybe he’s the one who’s been dreaming…

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Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”

So God created mankind in his own image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them.

God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”
Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.” And it was so.
God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day.
Genesis 1:26-31

I had a long Skye conversation with Hannah-Chan early this morning, then woke Little Frau so she could join in the chat.

Eldest daughter and I talked about lots of stuff this morning: Shopping (everything is in Japanese, cause, it’s Japan…), earthquakes (I woke up and wondered why my feet were moving), and eating Sushi (raw is better than “lightly grilled”, apparently). We pretty much talked about everything, except maybe bouquets of newly sharpened pencils.

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Her Japanese mom came into the room and said hello to us. It was late there, and Hannah had not come down to join the family in watching television, so she was just checking on her. It sounds like little-chan is embracing the culture, and they are definitely embracing her.

We talk and think so much about our differences, but in this instance, it has me celebrating the diversity that exists in this world. And, all this diversity was in the original DNA from the first creation of man. It makes me wonder what Heaven will truly be like when the whole strand of created DNA is back together and blended in Paradise.

I’m not much for sushi, and right now this all smells pretty fishy. And, may I add, fishy smells pretty good.

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“Mail; It was called mail” said the elder Fox. “Envelopes; stamps; you know, I think I’ve heard of it…” replied the younger Fox.

That’s Fox, Joe Fox, for those of you boning up on your movie trivia.

In the real world, once upon a time, “The Post”, aka mail, was the only way to communicate. Not just letters, but telegraph, telegram, and even telephone revolved around the “Post Dispatch” for generations.

As a college kid, I experienced the world for the first time on a mission trip to West Germany. Yes, there were two Germany’s once upon a time, but I digress. “The Post” (office) was the only way to communicate. Letters were sporadic ways to let the folks back home know how you were, but phone calls were expensive and hard to make. You went to the Post, paid up front for a 10 minute call, and waited your turn for a booth. The operator connected you, and when your 10 minutes were done, the line went dead.

Talk about discipline…

Fast forward to 2011…

Our family devices were all abuzz during the night. Everyone got a text. It seems that China Girl had found a “Post” in the heart of Beijing, circa 2011. In these days, it is spelled WIFI. Accordingly, the texts were followed by something called “Skype”. What language is that, and can it help explain why I’m so tired this A.M.?

So, we will eagerly await her next post, literally and figuratively, via the WWW.

In the interim, thanks for reading mine.

🙂

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Many people have set out to write accounts about the events that have been fulfilled among us. They used the eyewitness reports circulating among us from the early disciples. (Luke 1:1-2)

Richard Wright pointed out to us this morning in a discussion of Luke’s account that inspiration does not necessarily require originality. Touché. Arigatou gozaimasu – thank you very much, in Japanese.

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader was written in the 1950’s by children’s book author and theologian C.S. Lewis, and was the third tale in his Chronicles of Narnia series. It details a young hero and heroine being drawn back across time and space to the land of Narnia, where good is at war with evil, not all is as it seems, and heroic voyages and responsibilities call forth to the characters present.

Sounds a little like the present day. However, in this era of modern narratives chronicled by digital photography, the world wide web, social media, blogging, and the like, we often see the story unfolding before our eyes, seemingly as if the final plot has not yet been written.

Our young heroine boarded a ship last evening, not of wooden sailing vintage, but of Cathay Pacific Airship caliber. And, much like the mythical Starship Enterprise, time and space are relative as she seeks out new frontiers.

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As she began her voyage at 1:00 AM PDT, family and friends had already lived those measured hours, restlessly sleeping at a time zone two hours removed. As the airship ventured out into the blackness over the Pacific, our Dawn Treader and her faithful companions were literally flying “toward the past”, over land and sea measuring points historical in time, until such point that they “warped into the future”, courtesy of the international dateline. One man’s Sunday afternoon is another woman’s Monday morning, but who can decipher which is which? Quite the “time/space continuum”, indeed.

Prince Caspian, as we will refer to him today, has remained behind on the distant shore with Little Frau, myself, and a cast of thousands. His swashbuckling exploits will await another day, as this narrative journey unfolds before us.

Returning to our original “source of inspiration” narrative for today, that being the book of Luke, we see it ending as follows: “So they worshiped him and then returned to Jerusalem filled with great joy. And they spent all of their time in the Temple, praising God.” (Luke 24:52-53)

Amen. Sail on, Dawn Treader. We will spend our time in the Temple, and await with great Joy your return and the forthcoming real time tales of life across the seas.

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“Our little baby’s all grown up and savin’ China…”. I could not have expressed my sentiments any better than our mythical friend “Mushu”, and like him, I don’t do that “tongue thing”, at least I hope not.

Anyway, Baby Girl #1 (and one of the best two young ladies on the planet, may I add) leaves later this morning to see the world, starting with China. I’m so excited for her, and I’m gonna miss her.

But, I’m not worried about her forgetting her sword. On the “Digital Front Porch”, among other places, I have found Hank to be one of the most accomplished swordsmen around. If I could tell her anything this morning before she boards that plane, it would be not to forget her sword, and her shield.

Ephesians 6:16-18: In addition to all of these, hold up the shield of faith to stop the fiery arrows of the devil. Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all believers everywhere.

So, this morning, I bow to you Bruce. Bruce who? Bruce you. In the words of Fa Zhou “The greatest gift and honor is having you for a daughter”. Love you girl.

Now, lets get down to business, to meet, the Huns…

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Guess who just got back today? That wild eyed boy, who’d been away.

The song is from the late seventies, early eighties, and the performing group was called Thin Lizzie.

I have a friend who once went by the nickname Lizzie, and she’s kinda thin. She’s smallish, like a frog, like a play frog, only with colors. Pink boots and purple bandanas, anyone?

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Yes, the Beau is back in town. I knew this day was coming, and that she’d drive off upon his entrance into the area code. But, she left before I could say anything. I told myself last year I would not do this, but I’ve got at least one more sentimental journey left in me.

Accordingly, this lyric vault moment is not from Thin Lizzie, but from
George Strait “sung” for my own thin Lizzie.

…that’s why I’m sittin’ on the front porch, starin’ down the road; wonderin’ if she’ll come back? This time, I don’t know…..that’s got me worried, thinkin’ maybe my baby’s gotten good at goodbye…

Take heart, dear reader. Don’t cry for me, Argentina. (sorry, wrong musical genre). You see, I have good friends remaining with me.

Three amigos? Tres Hombres is more like it. A ha ha ha ha….

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