Life

Good Friday

Bread of heaven

Coming down from the Father

Giving life to the world

I take this bread

I believe in the One sent

To feed the world

The life it so desperately needs

 

Being gluten intolerant

It’s wise to switch from this earthly bread

Which makes me sick

I can’t digest it

No life in it for me

Maybe we are all gluten intolerant

When it comes to

Substituting

Bread of Life

For whatever we fill our hunger with

It will kill us in the end

Instead of nourishing us

And bringing

Life forevermore

 

© 2012 Julie Clark

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Nervous in Pune

 

Only three things have been making me nervous here in Pune: the traffic, the dogs, and my son’s pressure cooker.  My son has told me that the dogs, all though mangy, are fine.

 

“It’s live and let live here mom, don’t bother them and they won’t bother you.”

“Ok son, but what about this one that keeps jumping on me that is supposed to be guarding your apartment?”

 

“Oh, he’s just friendly, give him a knee and he will stop.”

 

I guess he got the message with my knee once so he has stopped jumping on me.  So the dog nerves are subsiding.  The traffic?  I find it best on my nerves to close my eyes from the back seat and think of flowing rivers.  Of course praying mostly under my breath helps too:  “mumble, mumble, mumble, GOD HAVE MERCY! Mumble, mumble, mumble, LORD HELP US ALL! Mumble, mumble, mumble.”  I think those nerves are subsiding as well, except I had a relapse last night when he was trying to use his CELL PHONE while zigging and zagging.  Admittedly, I haven’t seen any accidents just a lot of weaving, stopping and starting.  Also a whole lot of horn honking. Perhaps what looks like near misses to me are just the normal ebbs and flows of traffic around here?

 

There are reasons I have never owned a pressure cooker.  I think my mom had a run in with one and never would have one in the house.  I know it is great for getting tough meat nice and tender, and cooking rice or beans really quick. It’s just that little bit of letting off steam that really gets me unexpectedly.  My son calls those whistles.  It would be nice if it would actually whistle a gentle tune, not that sudden high-pitched, nerve wrecking screech. My usual response after the initial jolt is to head for the kitchen door and wait for the “whistle” to subside. I am getting more used to it now since I made a nice dhal all on my own the other day.

 

My darling grandson is gaining weight and getting settled into his baby routines.  His Mama is healing well.  We just heard our visas for Kazakhstan are on their way.  We may even make our original flight on Sunday.

 

 


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Photos of the Day

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Songs for Sohel

Come into the present

Come into this holy place

This is where I meet with you

This is where heaven meets earth

 

Today is the day

Step into life

Let’s get it started

Take your first breath

 

Step into life today

Step into freedom

Open your eyes and say

Think I’ll step into life today

This is a gift for you

The day the Lord has made

Soon you’ll be dancing

Cooing and singing

No turning back

Stepping into life today

 

This afternoon in the 102 degree F heat we were all sprawled out all over the apartment, worn out.  It is amazing how one tiny 8 pounder can wear out so many adults.  Didn’t Hilary Clinton write a book about how it takes a whole village to raise a child? We are getting that idea.

 

This bright evening star, Sohel, has captured our hearts with his sweetness. We spend hours anticipating his cute little expressions and moves. Those pursed lips and startled hand movements.  There is nothing in the world like a newborn baby.  He started out very sleepy, basically, “Can you just leave me alone it was hard work being born?”  Now that his Mama’s milk is in he is realizing there are some good things about being awake.

 

We are grateful that the doctor caught right away his distress in the womb and was able to safely deliver him via C-section.  Now his Mama is recovering well and we are happily here for a little while longer to help in these early days of his life.

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Walking and Waiting

DSCN2943

Evening walks in the park

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India Journal, March 14, 2012

First the birds began chirping, singing and calling, then a gust of wind blew through the streets rattling the trees and papers in the road, next a haunting call to prayer from the neighborhood mosque – all this to greet the dawn in Pune.  I normally would be missing this morning concert, not the early rising type, but for my old friend “jet lag” waking me in time to hear it. These wide-awake, pre-dawn hours have a message for me to hear. Now a dog is joining the chorus with a lonely howl.

Last evening I went to the doctors with my daughter-in-law.  Her blood pressure is up.  The doctor is somewhat concerned and wants the baby born before Friday when she has her next appointment.  Asking for your prayers and a great peace to fill the air around her.

My son is quite the pro, navigating these streets in his little Santro.  He weaves in and out of the myriad of cars, motorbikes, pedestrians, push carts, motorized rik- shaws, and occasional cows like he was born for it. On the other hand I find it daunting just crossing the street.  There is no stopping the flow. Only in the wee hours like when we first arrived. One must, with great courage, look for the break in traffic and enter in weaving, stopping, and starting until you cross the 20 feet to the other side. It’s kind of like a dance, or maybe more like a bullfight.

The doctor’s office is on a very busy corner near the main shopping area: MG road. There is a narrow stairway leading to the 2nd floor balcony, again very narrow.  I can imagine two pregnant ladies meeting in this hall and one having to back up into a doorway to let the other pass. A small door appears and there is a tiny waiting room with four plastic chairs.  No receptionist, or billing department, just another foggy glass door to the Doctors office/examining room.  I have complete confidence in her.  She is a veteran and knows her stuff. Her equipment is ancient, but adequate for the task.  I delightedly hear the swish-swish of my grandson’s heartbeat. I am gratefully reminded of another doctor’s office back in Whittier, California. The office was quite different, but I had another master doctor from Chennai who helped bring my son into the world 28 years ago.

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Journey to India Journal

3/9/211

When two rivers converge into one we all know how turbulent that place of convergence is.  Well, we experienced that in a small degree this morning when we tried to check-in at the United desk in Seattle.  Apparently Continental Airline and United have united recently.   We had a gracious employee who took us on as her special project.  She had to abandon her post of herding the masses to the screens to begin their check-in.  It only took about half an hour to sort us out.   Our eticket itinerary told us we were changing flights in Chicago but she told us that was so yesterday and today we were going to go through Washington DC instead.  That was all good, we even had an extra two hours in the airport.  It would have been nice to know all this before hand, we possibly could have had gotten up at 5 instead of 3! (An extra 2 hours of sleep!)  Oh well, we made up for it and found some of those airport chairs in the Alaska section that don’t have arm rests.  We stretched out and took a little catnap.  Semi refreshed, we got our coffees and whipped out our almond butter sandwiches for breakfast.  There was another interesting bit getting on the plane.  Instead of the normal 4ish boarding groups there were 8!  The kept welcoming all the preferred passengers, gold elite members and beautiful people.  They were all of course 1 – 4ers.  We on the other hand had the number 8.  That meant when it was time for us to board we had to check-in our hand carry on’s with wheels because there was no more room in the cabins above.  We quick switched our leather shoes for our Teva’ s in anticipation for the hot/muggy air of Pune.  Grabbed everything else out of those bags that we thought we would need or at least feel secure in having on our person, (i.e. books) and boarded our plane.  All this adventure and it wasn’t even 8:00!

3/11

Three airplane rides, several catnaps, walks through the airports and some interesting conversations we arrived happily in Pune to be greeted by our eldest son and daughter-in-law!

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The Olympics

It happened again today

As I turned the corner

That pulling up from the deep

Kind of feeling

As the view opened

And there were the Olympics

In their cold, lofty solitude

 

Calling me to breathe deeper

To listen to the silence

To acknowledge the ancient wisdom

Flowing within and without

The present

Where heaven meets earth

Is all I have

I need to recognize it

And make my home there

 

© 2012 Julie Clark

 

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An Ordinary Life

An ordinary life

An ordinary day

Every day

Steps to take

One foot in front of the other

Towards the goal

Of being a better person

Of loving my neighbor

Of finding my place

It takes listening

To that True Voice

Who tells me who I am

Who tells me what I am worth

Who puts the extra

Into my ordinary

© 2010 Julie Clark

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Missing pieces

Missing pieces

To the puzzle of my life

Fall into place

Not all at once

Bur as I keep moving forward

Along the path

Laid out for me

Round the bend

The fog clears

Answers come.

The worse thing I can do

Is to stop moving

That is when

The fog gets thicker

The voices from the darkness

Grow louder

The vines begin to tangle my feet.

As I start to move again

Towards the light

Hope arises in my heart

Joy springs into a song

I laugh out loud

With each purposeful step

Here comes another piece

To the mystery of my life!

© 2012 Julie Clark

Categories: Life, Paths, Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , | 4 Comments

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