I am tired and need to go to sleep. But I thought of something Isak said awhile ago that made me laugh (and I want to write it down before I forget).
One morning he came to me, kind of excited, and said: “Dad, I had a dream about you last night.”
“Oh, really! What did you dream about exactly?”
He thought for a second. “Well, there were some bad guys and some good guys… like in the Lord of the Rings.” He was concentrating on remembering. “You were fighting with the good guys,” he said with a smile.
I can’t wait to hear the end of this one, I thought. It was the way he told it, as if he was building up to something special. Maybe a super-dad-hero tale. “Wow! I was chasing away Orcs? Awesome!”
“Yeah,” he said with a smile.
This is going to be good. But wanting to hear the rest I asked: “What then?”
“They killed you!” he answered casually.
“They what?”
“They killed you!” he repeated.
“But I was helping the good guys! What do you mean I was killed?”
I don’t know… but you’re pretty much a dead man!”
“Well… what happened after that?” I was still hanging on to the hope of some good ending.
“Nothing. I woke up.”
“That’s it! You woke up?” I had just dropped from hero to zero. He had me set up for a lot more.
“Yep, that’s pretty much it!” And without waiting for another comment from me he asked: “Can we go out a play now, dad?”
Just before the sun was about to set I asked Isak if he wanted to go and find some deer and take pictures. I told him about this place where I’ve seen them hang out. “Sure,” he said, “but I want to take the pictures.” (Click on images to enlarge)
And so he did. This one is taken by Isak, of the only deer we could find. Then it took off into the forest.
But we didn’t feel like going home yet, so went out into a neighboring field to greet the local farmer.
Isak look on as the tractor turns…
but start to run as some seagull get near.
Here he is coming back. There is something about this shot I like. But its not the dust nor the impressive tractor. It’s the cool focus of the farmer, keeping his eyes forward, driving in a straight line. He knows exactly what he is doing. He probably tended this soil for a better part of his life. It struck me that I, and thousand with me, are enjoying the fruits of this man’s labors. When’s the last time I thanked my friendly neighborhood farmer? “Thanks friend!”
It seems that there was split “voting” on The Faces of an Angel. Your thoughts, which by the way were very kind, represent pretty much what I feel too: she was so cute in many of the shots, in different ways. Therefore, it’s hard to pick a winner, but if I was force to, I would pick this one, as some of you also did.
But as it turns out, our Angel is not always who she appears to be. I was acting Paparazzi the other day, and look what I discovered at the end of my lens.
Clara: Hmm… I would sure like to play with those marbles.
Clara: “Isak, can I play too?”
Isak: “Just wait a second, okay!”
Clara: Wow! This bag is full of them!
Clara: Okay… he’s looking away. I’ll just grab this little string here, and…
Clara: Dam-di-du-di-doh… quietly we go…
Isak: “What in the…?
Isak: “Oh, no you don’t!”
Clara: “No, no, no, no…nooooo!”
Louis: “Maybe she wouldn’t do that if you let her play with you?”
Isak: “But we we’re just in the middle of a game!”
Back to the game area.
Clara: “Mask? [This is what she calls our neighbor, Max.] Can I have a marble from you?
Max: “Sure, let me get one from my box.”
Clara: “Really! Oh, thank you!”
Max: “Here you go!”
Clara: “Thank you, Mask! At least there is one nice person here…”
What lessons can we learn from this? Don’t steal? Of course, this is fundamental. But maybe also: if the rich would share some of their wealth with the poor, maybe the poor wouldn’t be forced to steal.
Reader: “Ah, you’re just saying that to defend Clara.”
Louis: “Why, yes… of course. After all… she is my angel!”
Our baby girl just turned two. As you can see, she’s had fun this year.
I’m just trying out this new gallery. Click on any thumbnail to make the image larger. You can even comment on each image (in the reply box). By the way, which is the cutest photo? I’ve got my own favorite. Let’s see if you feel the same.
Here is a photo story from the other week. Johannes loves anything that’s got to do with airplanes and airports. Knowing that, I have suggested a few times that we go to Arlanda airport, north of Stockholm, just to stroll around and maybe take some photos. (I also knew he needed some time away from home, so he could train more on his injured foot.) He loved that idea. So, one late afternoon we finally went ahead with our plans.
It was a strange weather day. When we drove to the airport, something of a snow storm was brewing up. It got worse and worse. I told Johannes that it would be best not to expect to much (of the visibility). Although I knew he most of all wanted to see the take-offs and landings, he tried to keep a straight face. “Well, at least we can see the inside of the airport as we walk around,” he said. Bless his heart, I thought, but please God, give him a fun experience. He really needs it.
Ten minutes later we arrived at Arlanda. And I tell you, it was the strangest weather phenomena I ever laid my eyes on. All of a sudden the snow stopped. And the clouds dispersed. Well, not completely. Only around the airport. Facing us was Arlanda in a fish bowl; dark clouds were together creating a huge circle around the airport, leaving an open top of clear, blue skies. It was being in the eye of the storm; calm on the inside, but raging weather on the outside. Our jaws just dropped, and we both said simultaneously: “Cool!” And I just smiled. Thank you, God.
We walked around for about an hour in all the terminals. Johannes knows I am a frequent flyer, so he throws all these questions my way: “Have you flown that plane? Did you ever feel unsafe? Which is the best airline? Why do they spray orange stuff on the wings?” And I put on my teacher’s mantle and say: “Glad you should ask… let me tell you, son…”
After a while he gets tired in his bad leg. We stop and take this photo. Then we look at some planes coming up and down the runway (behind Johannes in the photo). However, we notice it’s getting darker. But it’s also clearing up outside the airport. So we decide to try to find the road that take us to the end of the runway, so we can get a better view of the take-offs.
After about ten minutes of driving we actually find it. This is the place. Now we just have to wait for a plane.
Here come the first one.
And the second one. We are standing right underneath them as they come. “This is soooo cool!” Johannes yells over the engine noise. “Yes, but also soooo cold!” I reply. I’d forgotten to bring my jacket. Not a smart thing with temperatures at freezing point.
“I have a great idea!” Johannes said. “Why don’t you take the blanket from trunk of the car to cover yourself with.” Good idea, I thought. So for the next twenty minutes, this is how I looked. (Don’t laugh… at least I was warm.
We took a lot more photos. Some good. Some not so good. But it wasn’t the photos. It was just being together. And seeing Johannes laughing again and enjoying himself, that was worth more than anything.
But those sugary, dandy feelings were abruptly changed as a security car stopped by the side of the road, just behind ours. It struck me that perhaps we were trespassing or something, so shamefully I stroll to the officer’s car. He rolls down the window and explains that we are aloud to take photos, but not park on the side of the road. “Okay, sorry,” I reply. “We’ll make sure it won’t happen again.” Content he drove off.
Johannes said: “Dad, that’s so embarrassing. They’re gonna kick us out!” I responded: “No, it’s okay. Besides, it’s time to leave anyway.” Then we got in the car and drove toward home. But on the way, this particular road passed near the place where the planes landed - the opposite side of the runway. I asked Johannes if he wanted to see it. He gladly approved so I took him there, and stopped again by the side of the road.
Then we see this plane coming right at us. “Oooo, I’ve gotta hurry and get this shot!” I said, jumping out of the car. “But you’re not allowed to stop here!” said Johannes. “What if that security car comes again?” Having my shot ready in my viewer (see above) I casually reply: “Oh, he’s probably miles away by now. Besides I’m done now. We can leave.” Just as I utter that last word, who comes pulling up behind our car? You guessed it: the security guy. This time I feel really ashamed, like a naughty school boy in front of an angry teacher.
Ready to receive my punishment I walk up to him again. The first thing that comes out of my mouth was: “Wow, you’re really fast! Ha, ha.” He didn’t think that was funny. You know how you sometimes wish you could read other people’s minds. Well, this time I sure as heck didn’t want to. Besides, I didn’t have to. It was written all over his face: What an idiot!
I said my apologies - again - and jumped in the car and drove off. Johannes wasn’t late to comment: “I can’t believe you did that!” Starting to laugh I said: “Yeah, I know… pretty stupid, huh?” Then I added: “Still… at least I got my shot.” Once more he mumbled something about his embarrassing dad, and what he was going to tell mom, etc, etc. That set me off laughing even more - and soon he joined me. “But you have to admit,” I said, “that was a fun adventure we had?” “Yeah, dad… that was fun. Really fun.”
Once in a while, maybe embarrassing fathers aren’t so bad after all.
Yesterday Johannes had his first day in school after the heart surgery. He wanted me to go with him, so I took the day off from work and helped him get settled in. It went very well. He was beaming when he saw his class mates again. This will do him a lot of good, I thought.
Today he went by himself, but before I went to work, during the school’s morning break, I went over to there (we live next door) just to see that he was happy. And he was. On the way back I passed Isak and his friends in 1st grade. First Isak ran to me and jumped in my arms, and shouted, “Daaaaady!!!” Then the other kids followed. They immediately asked if I wanted to play a game with them. I smiled, partly because I love to play, but partly because I knew that it won’t take many years before our children will do anything to not have their parents show up on school grounds. How embarrassing! So why not seize the opportunity while it is still there. And work? Well… it could wait twenty more minutes. We played tag and all kinds of games I don’t even know the names of. I haven’t run so much in months. When the bell rang I was all sweaty, but happy still. It was great to be a kid again - if only for a few moments.
So… at our jobs today, let’s step away from our computers and work stations for awhile and run around with our colleagues and play tag. If nothing else, it will put a smile on our faces (seeing how silly we all shall look). But, if we are happier at work, we will work harder and better… right? Maybe even a promotion for a new bill for parliament should be in place here: at least one game per day at every place of employment.
“We love him, because he first loved us.” (1 John 4:19)
It’s been a good Easter. The family has been together a lot. My mother-in-law, Silvana, has also been here. She is really sweet. She took all of the kids one night so Angelica and I could have a date for the first time in who knows how long. Having small children is wonderful, but being alone with your wife now and then is worth gold. But the weird thing… not long after you leave your children, you start missing them, even though you finally got the chance to get away for awhile.
I think what made it such a nice Easter celebration was that it got off to a wonderful start. On Friday morning I had planned to sleep in, but our bed got invaded very early by creature who looked just like our kids. Oh great, I sighed, there goes my much needed rest. But after doing my ritual stretching and eye-opening exercises I started to feel good, a feeling that also came from the peaceful serenity of the moment; there we were, all five of us, lying next to each other, and it was calm. Yes, calm. No kids jumping on my stomach. No teasing. No whining. Then Clara leans over to her mother, puts her hands on Angelica’s cheeks, and says: “Love…”
While Angelica is in tears from hearing Clara attempting to say “I love you” for the very first time (at least so we could understand her), Johannes is the next to surprise us. He said: “You know, I would die for Clara!” Hearing him, but not altogether ready for such profound words so early in the morning, I said: “What!” He answered: “If something bad was about to happen to Clara, and she might die, then I would want to die in her stead. Because I have lived so long, but she has her whole life in front of her.” Without saying much I just hugged him. He sure has his good moments.
Then Angelica and I looked at each other. We were thinking the same thing: Where does all this love come from? Not that I think we are an unloving family, but our regular mornings don’t usually spoil us like this. Maybe that was the answer: This was not a regular morning. Instantly I remembered. It was Easter Friday. That was day our Lord and Saviour suffered and died on the cross, for the sake of all mankind. At times you just have to follow your heart, so I grabbed the Bible and asked if I could read something for everyone. No one protested (another miracle). So I opened the Gospel of Luke and read his account of the last supper, the suffering in Gethsemane, the false trails, and the final degradation of Jesus when he was nailed on the cross.
After finishing we spoke with our children about the atonement of Christ, and how blessed we were to have felt His unconditional love in our lives, also this very morning. I am convinced that having that peaceful start of Easter made it much better than what it otherwise would have been. But it wasn’t thanks to us. It was thanks to Him! He knew what we needed.
But you know, what we need is no different from what you need. We all need God’s love. It’s the only sure remedy for all the corners of this ol’ world - your’s too.
He thought this looked easy when I did it, but Isak found out for himself that “blowing out” an egg is quite the workout for the lungs. Grandma Silvana (my mother-in-law) is there to support him.
One of many things I love about our Church is that it invites us to not only worship on Sundays or once a year, but teaches us that faith is an every day issue. One thing latter day saints are encouraged to do during the week, for example, is to have family home evening. This is held for most members on Monday night. The whole idea is to have one night a week where each family member has no other plans than those of being together as a family. We believe that family unity is a core essential for happiness, not only within the walls of all our homes, but also within all the borders of society. So to have this opportunity, in a world that is so stressed it never lets us have time for each other, is a wonderful, not to say inspired idea.
This week we had a special guest for family home evening. It was Lena Bomgren, our Ward’s Primary president (the leader of the children’s program in our congregation). We usually see her every week at Church, but meeting her on Sunday, she said that she felt like she wanted to do something more for our family. She and the other’s in our Ward had done so much good for us already, we thought, but we graciously accepted her offer. We sensed her good will and desire to spread love to our children, and perhaps help Johannes to have some fun, thus taking his mind off the pain in his leg - if only for a while.
She knew our kids loved to paint and do crafts (in Swedish: pyssla), so she brought several bags of Easter-fun. After starting our home evening with song and prayer, and a spiritual thought from the father (which my children reminded me had to be very short this time… ha, ha), then we moved on to the activity, as seen below.
Lena is wearing the red sweater. (How about that suspicious look from Clara?)
Our Easter chickens are done. I can’t help but laugh at Isak’s work of art. He made two of these chickens, one of which is “dad”. Guess who? Yep, the tall one. Every time he depicts me somewhere I am always twice as big as the rest. Funny, cause I’m not that big… although I am involuntarily working on it!
Before Lena left we had mom’s delicious brownies with ice cream. Our children spoke casually with Lena, and my wife and I rejoiced that Johannes, especially, had had a few moments to forgot about his medical condition, and just have a good time instead. That meant a lot to us. Sure, for Lena this might not have been the greatest sacrifice (cause I know she also enjoyed it), but for us it was the greatest blessing of this week. And we know that she did it to make us and our children happy, without any conditions, nor payment from Church funds. Just love - shown in pure service.
So we name her “Angel of the week”, our Easter Angel.
Couldn’t let they day go by without publicly congratulating my wife, Angelica, who turned 35 today. She doesn’t like publicity (and that’s putting it mildly) so I’ll just summarize and say that she is without a doubt a remarkable woman, and I thank God for letting me experience life at here side.
But in this picture, it’s not me at her side, but Johannes. I thought it was fitting, seeing how much love and support he has received from her lately.
I know that some of you who have read the posts A Prayer for the Heart are wondering about the aftermath of our son Johannes’ heart surgery. Well, as far as his heart goes, he’s done really fine. Everything is healing rapidly, and his chest scar is looking good also (better than before actually). We have also been able to cut down on most medication since he feels little or no pain, concerning that part of his body, at least.
But… something else has happened. Johannes received a problem with his lower left leg. The days after surgery we remember that he complained about a tinging feeling in his left foot, that actually had swollen some too. Everyone at the hospital thought it was just a small thing in passing, caused by the fact that he had laid still for so long. But he had troubles standing up and walking about, and that worried us. Still we were reached by a constant flow of comforting words that this would soon be over - whatever it was.
The thing was, we wanted to know. We just felt that we couldn’t leave anything to chance. Especially when we saw that his leg wasn’t getting any better, but in fact worse. So for a few weeks now we have let Johannes go through another series a hospital visits here in Stockholm, doing all kinds of tests, including an MRT (in Swedish: magnetröntgen). What the doctors suspect has happened (but they’re still not positively sure) is that Johannes’ left leg was somehow exposed to some kind of pressure during his surgery, resulting in nerve damaged. They think it’s something called peroneuspares, a “drop foot” state when you can’t flex the foot backwards.
We had never heard about this so we got acquainted with it on the Internet. Among other things, it stated that although this condition usually is curable, it can take a long time. In some cases people have lived with “drop foot” for the remainder of their lives. This didn’t exactly add to our hopes.
On the other hand, I had a feeling that this was yet another hurtle for Johannes (and us together) to jump over, and that he would heal rapidly. The hardest part, however, has been helping Johannes to believe this also. Throughout this whole ordeal I admire him for his strength in upholding his faith, but I can’t lie and say he’s happy about this last development. Not seldom has he wondered why he had to go through yet another trail; wasn’t it enough to have a heart surgery? Now he’s often in discomfort or pain, and has great trouble walking.
But overall he’s doing his best. I hope we are too. In the end that’s all you can do, and then leave the rest to God. We have given him a blessing, in which we all felt the love of God, certain that He is there, still guiding Johannes by the hand. We also keep praying for his rapid recovery, and grateful to others we know are doing the same.
But although faith is the answer, I think sometimes people misunderstand the principle. It’s not merely believing, and then sitting back, waiting for a miracle. Faith is also a force which motivates us into action. Like now, for example, with Johannes. We have taken him to a physical therapist who has given him some exercises he must do every day. Here faith has to be transformed into a positive attitude; simply put, he has to know that if he works hard at overcoming his ailment, believing it can work - then it will work. I’ve live long enough to know that this saying is true: God helps those who help themselves.
Although Johannes is not filled with these positive thoughts all the time (but who would be), he is working really hard now at his recovery. And whenever his own faith is lacking, his parents will pitch in an extra dose for him. That’s what we have agreed upon. And he’s happy about that. So… however we get there - we will get there.
And you know what? It’s working.
A photo from last week, taken with my mobile camera, showing a happy Johannes. He’s smiling because he finally was let out of the MRT machine. For 45 minutes he had to lay dead still, which up until that day had been impossible because of his discomforted leg. It’s a small miracle… but those count as well.
Our family has adopted a special Christmas tradition that I guess could be blended with New Years resolutions. After all the presents were opened, stomachs stuffed with goodies, and the general noise level subdued, the attention rate of our children was a lot better after than before Santa’s arrival. Since timing is everything with kids, that’s when we hit ‘em with the nativity story in Luke, chapter 2, after which we talked about the wonders of that first Christmas.
We always end this discussion with thoughts about gifts. Real gifts. Just as the wise men came to honor the newborn Saviour with precious gifts, there are gifts we also can give to Him. But these packages are not hard or soft, nor can they be purchased with dollars. They have to make a real difference. Although these are gifts written as simple words on a piece of paper, they are stuck in the chambers of the heart, hopefully forever.
I did search my heart carefully this time. What would be my greatest gift to Him this year? I didn’t need long to think; I’ve known it for some time: Patience. In the past I have always seen myself as one with much patience, but during the last few years it has started to slip from me. And I want it back! I’m not myself without it, and my family needs a father and a husband who will cherish that virtue better than he has lately.
I wrote the word down on a note, just like the others did, and we put them all in a wooden box which my two sons placed underneath the Christmas tree. Lord Jesus… here is our gift.
Last week I attended a CES Conference. At one point a friend and colleague gave all the participants a few minutes to write a personal psalm. I’m not a poet, I know, but I was still glad to have a few solitary moments to clear the world from my mind and write these words of gratitude. For the wonders of the earth, I adore Thee For the light in heaven, I see Thee For the glories of thy creations, I admire Thee For the blessing of family, I honor Thee For the companionship of friends, I thank Thee For the power of Thy Word, I worship Thee For the gift of Thy Son, I praise Thee For the Spirit that enlightens me, I follow Thee For all the endowments of life - I love Thee If I were to add (my own) images to my thoughts it could look something like this. For the wonders of the earth, I adore Thee For the light in heaven, I see Thee For the glories of thy creations, I admire Thee For the blessing of family, I honor Thee For the companionship of friends, I thank Thee For the power of Thy Word, I worship Thee For the gift of Thy Son, I praise Thee For the Spirit that enlightens me, I follow TheeFor all the endowments of life - I love Thee Comments to some pictures: Nr 4 shows my family; nr 5 shows some colleagues and friends; nr 6 shows a recent baptism in Lodz, Poland, in a ‘home-made’ baptismal font; nr 7 shows one of my Polish Institute students with a painting of Christ in the background.
Our firstborn came to this world with a serious heart problem. He had holes between the his chambers, which fortunately is a not so unusual condition and easy to fix. But he was also diagnosed with Truncus, meaning he was born with an Aorta but no Pulmonary artery, hence giving his body no chance to receive oxidized blood. The doctors noticed it when he was a week old. I never forget the Cardiologists word during the ultra sound: “Well…” he said abruptly, “your son has a heart failure. He will die if we don’t operate immediately!”Just like that. No forewarning. No preparation. Our child, whom we had been longing for during much tribulation (my wife was very ill during her pregnancy), was now about to be taken away from us. How can one take such news without going into a state of shock.
Today I won’t go into all details, but suffice it to say that our son had his surgery. After eleven hours of complications on the operating table, he heart was fixed after a lot of cutting and pasting; most radically, the surgeons had to place a tube that connected to his heart’s right ventricle, then onward to both passage ways to the lungs. The tube, however, does not grow with the body as he grows older, so it needs to be exchanges from time to time. That happened to Johannes when he was a year old exactly.
Since then we, or rather he, has been very blessed. The second tube has “survived” longer than what is considered normal. The problem, however, is that it will, because of time, tighten up naturally, leaving a smaller passage way for the blood, making the heart pump faster. So the doctors have a important, balanced decision to make: Having to many open-heart surgeries will tare on the young body; operating to late will damage the heart muscle.
We have been told that it is soon time again to have open-heart surgery, but last week we took Johannes to the hospital for a few days, right before his tenth birthday, to open up the tube a little more. The doctors wanted to do this just to buy a little more time. It was simply done (if there is such a thing) by going up through the vein into the hearts right ventricle, and inserting a stent, a tiny steel net, into the tube. This was blown up by an ever more tiny balloon which opened the net so it widened the tube a fraction.
It went well…. we think. Time will tell. Our son handled it all very well, however. We are so proud of him. It’s not easy being a “heart child”, but God has blessed him immensely in is life, giving him an exeptionally good health after all. And even though it is never fun being at the hospital, the staff was great. We have many of them before and consider them our friends. Johannes was treated as a king. Which he is.
Preparing for operation.
After operation, together with his mother.
Recovering in hospital bed with gift from little brother.
What beats a bedtime story? How about four bedtime stories?
My sons kidnapped me! They wouldn’t let me go. I started with one story (which was our deal), then a second, just to show them I cared. When my time was up, the little terrorists started pressing me. “You’re not a nice daddy if you leave now”; and “We’re going tell mommy that you…” (well, we’ll skip that part…). “Okay”, I answered with faked authority, “but only one more!” Somehow that one became two.
You know, life is big! The universe with all it’s wonders encircle us. Mankind has reached its height in terms of scientific discoveries. Still we’re just getting started. Technology is entertaining us with gadgets to many to number. At this very moment you are sitting here, surfing the net, reading this blog, looking for information, or searching for some kind of happiness through this miraculous world wide web. (Who would have thought it possible a generation ago?)
Still. With all the depths and heights of our existence on earth, few things we experience can match the wonders of a bedtime story moment. No computers, no television, no loud music. Just person to person. Child to parent. Smile to smile. Heart to heart.
One of my duties as a CES Coordinator is to visit teachers and students in their various classes, assisting with administrative matters. Last night, as I met with a class in central Sweden, I spoke at length with the teacher about her recent family tragedy. Her twenty-one year old son had passed away a month ago in a motor accident.
She explained that even though there had been many tears and a feeling of void in their lives, there had still been light - even peace. I asked her how it was possible? She spoke calmly but resolute: “It’s because of Christ.” I thought for a second about others who have expressed similar words, and although I for the most part have little reason to doubt their sincerity, there was something different about this woman. She really meant what she said. I could see it in her countenance; still the same person, yes, but different still.
“How do you mean?” I asked. She explained that she had always believed in the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ, at least in theory. “But now”, she said, “I know it really works!” Excitement gathered in her eyes as she continued, speaking also for her family: “Even though we have known that Christ has taken all our burdens upon himself, we have never felt it the way we do now. There are no why’s or if’s! Just a peaceful assurance that God is with us, lifting us when our own strength fails us.”
Many times have I felt the power of Jesus’ atonement. His healing power is real, no doubt. But I was still awestruck by the words I heard (and there were many more) last night. In a moment when most people would resort to despair and perhaps fear, this family had opened its heart to God - and was healed.
When we parted she thanked me sincerely for coming. “No problem,” I said, a little ashamed, “but… I should be the one thanking you!” I had come there hoping to give something to this teacher and her family, but I knew it was I who was at the receiving end.
Having our 11th wedding anniversary. I’m thinking of doing something special.
When I proposed I road in a knights full armour, galloping across a field to get to my princess, then kneeling at her feet. But I don’t think I can beat that today. Thought it would be fun to see what you thought:
“Dad, do you always have to bring that camera?” Haven’t I heard those words a thousand times?
“Yes, my son, I do!” I said patronisingly, “and one day you’ll thank me for doing you this favor! Just get up there and enjoy yourself!”
Both of my sons knew the drill. When dad takes up that big lens, that’s the signal. We were at Church, with all of the Primary (”Sunday school”) children practicing for their annual presentation at worship service. My boys got up on the stand with the rest, and after a few minutes when they spotted me, they cranked up their smiles. Can you guess who they are?
That’s nice, I thought. But I just wanted a “situation” shot. I tried to discretely signal to them to pretend I wasn’t there - and to just look normal! They both nodded. Good, they understood. Then my finger reaches the shutter, and I have a nice image in the view finder. But right as I press down…
Thanks, guys!I got the “stupid” look instead. They have been practicing on that one more frequently, most likely in protest to what they view as my exaggerated photographic zeal.
I just laughed. Poor kids, I have really messed them up, haven’t I?
For the light in heaven, I see Thee 
For the glories of thy creations, I admire Thee 
For the blessing of family, I honor Thee 
For the companionship of friends, I thank Thee 
For the power of Thy Word, I worship Thee 
For the gift of Thy Son, I praise Thee 
For the Spirit that enlightens me, I follow Thee 
For all the endowments of life - I love Thee 
Comments to some pictures: Nr 4 shows my family; nr 5 shows some colleagues and friends; nr 6 shows a recent baptism in Lodz, Poland, in a ‘home-made’ baptismal font; nr 7 shows one of my Polish Institute students with a painting of Christ in the background.
