sharing

When God decided He'd call us "friends", He might've hoped to share his worries with us from time to time.

Are we so busy telling him about our personal burdens, that we don't even let Him talk anymore?

brilliance

The most beautiful people are the seekers of truth. Interesting, often melancholy, worth being friends with, I believe. I’d dare say the best kind are the seekers, who haven’t found yet. Because they will keep seeking and on their way, they find many treasures. To know them means you’ll get to catch glimpses once in a while. Glimpses that inspire to also be a seeker. The seekers suffer, because they struggle to find rest. Yet suffering brings beauty, the way a pearl is formed from the irritation inside a shell and the way a diamond is cut in shape to be perfected.

I came to these thoughts after checking out the Space of Herman van Veen, a great Dutch artist.

the devil came on horseback

400,000 dead, women raped and branded outside their camps, men killed or castrated or burnt in their villages, children traumatized and orphaned.

This is life in Darfur. This is death in Darfur. It’s hard to tell the difference.

I happened to be in Holland to see “Tot zover Darfur” (“Darfur thus far”), which included a series of documentaries and interviews on the subject of this region in Sudan.

Brian Steidle was an American Marine who became an eyewitness the the genocide in Darfur. He thought America would come to the rescue within a week of his photo’s reaching the West. But nothing happened. He resigned and thought of other ways to rouse awareness. Now we can see his pictures in the movie “The devil came on horseback”. This title refers to the Janjaweed, the government-trained militias which are bringing about a holocaust in Darfur. The name means “devil on a horse, with a gun”.

Meanwhile China is pouring oilmoney into Sudan, helping the government to finance the killing of the non-Arab Darfuri. And we are happily going to celebrate the Summer Olympics of 2008 in Beijing?! They say the Olympics have nothing to do with politics, so it doesn’t make a difference.

Our banks are investing their money in Chinese oil companies and other dubious firms. Have a look on www.bankgeheimen.be to see what your bank’s investing in. I found my bank there and I didn’t like it. Even if only part of this is true, each of us is playing some part in financing activities that violate human rights.

That makes us all guilty, but you don’t need to know about it if you don’t want to.

This isn’t meant to be a sentimental entry to make you feel guilty. I write this merely because I know that I am guilty...guilty first of all of being apathatic. You may have no responsibility until you see, but you must look!

Perhaps one crisis in this world will then catch your eye and perhaps you will act. You will surely feel like a drop in the ocean (yes, I’m still with this drop), but the other drop you touch will be grateful to have company.

And the reason that this makes a difference, I believe, is that God created the ocean.

a drop (part of the thought)

One drop
Meaningless
Can it make the ocean more wet?

One tear
In your eye
Means you haven't forgotten how to cry

One touch
Meaningless
Not to one lost in loneliness

One word
Spoken in love
Means you were not forgotten

een druppel

Een druppel

Op een hete plaat

Niet de moeite waard

Verdampt

Een druppel

In een bewogen oog

Wordt een stille traan

Ontroerd

Een druppel

Op een droge wang

Voor ’t eerst weer aangeraakt

Ontmoet

Een druppel

Begint een regenvloed

Watert woestijnen

Opgebloeid

Zoals een druppel bloed van ‘t kruis

Die druppel gaf nieuw leven

A Thousand Splendid Suns

After reading both Khaled Hosseini's novels, I visited his website.

It is more than mildly impressive for someone to develop into such an author while in medical practice. With Hosseini being an Afghani, it might be less remarkable that he focuses on the cause of refugees worldwide. On the other hand, he grew up comfortably in America and could easily have forgotten.

He traveled to the camps in Darfur, Sudan, as a UN representative and spoke to refugees there. He found that their stories have remained the same for many years. "To see these things and not do anything is just not an option" is his resolve.

It is for this very reason that I want to keep "seeing these things".

Herman

Herman died. I miss him. Hadn’t seen him for years and now it won’t happen anymore for the rest of my life. He’d been married nearly 60 years to the same wife. Quite a record in modern times. When I was a little girl he was already old in my eyes, but he was never about to die. I suppose I expected him to always stick around.

He was a man I enjoyed talking to when visiting the church of my childhood. He was a down-to-earth type from the province North-Holland. When he opened his mouth, the sound was in contrast to that of the man next to him. He had lived in the most southern province for many years, where the people are mildly shocked at his kind of no-nonsense attitude. To me it sounded like home, because my family comes from the same region.

I know we’ll meet again and until then he’s even better off than I am. There will always be a special place in my heart for him. His wife is still there and she’s a prayer-warrior. The type of warrior that is threatened to die out with her generation.

I wrote this to honour those who are too easily forgotten, because they’re ministry has been a quiet one for many years.

“Dag, Herman, ik zie uit naar ons weerzien...”

why the blog died

I've got a couple of half-posts that I'm not sure what to do with. I could finish something and post it here of course. Sometimes I can't decide whether I want to be read. I've spent this past month settling back into a somewhat normal life. A life that's different from the one I lived before last summer.

There was a post called "why the blog died" and it goes as follows. Don't take it too seriously. Half-posts should not be taken entirely seriously I reckon.

I love someone and so I no longer know what to write here. He doesn’t read this blog and my thoughts are too often about him. So what is it to you, my dear reader?

I will tell you about the best thing though...

The best thing is that he blows away my fears. He says things like “you can get sick if you think too much” and “you can break things if you are so afraid”. He reads thoughts that flash across my face and tries to understand.

“Hello, where have you gone?” he’ll say and then I know I’m on a wrong track and need to get back to where we tend to meet. He is perhaps more of an optimist than I am, as he challenges my right to worry.

sheep

We are sheep. God calls us sheep over 200 times in the Bible. There are three things we need to know about sheep:

1. They are stupid
2. They are dirty
3. They are defenseless

I’m glad my God is faithful and loves me despite these characteristics.

My friend Dee wrote this on her blog. I like it. It makes me smile.