Washington DC: The Capital of Words!

A few weeks ago, my husband and I decided to take a last-minute trip to Washington, DC.

Let me begin with a confession: I'm thirty-nine years old, and I had never been to Washington, DC.

It's a funny story, really.

When I was in middle school, I was invited to join the "Gifted and Talented" class at my public school.  I threw a fit.  I didn't find it at all fair that the kids who scored higher on one standardized test were given access to learning opportunities and information that the other students were not.  I refused to be in the class, and I continued to refuse every year of middle school.  Instead, I took the "Enrichment Period" each day, and in it we read books and took part in "enriching" activities (none of which I can recall).  As a result, I never learned the history of the American presidents (until a road trip in college when my now husband, horrified that I didn't know that Pierce was a president, taught me to name them in order), and I didn't get to go on the Washington DC field trip.

Despite the fact that I ended up with a few holes in my education, I maintain my stance.  I still find it markedly unfair that some students are given access to a more thorough education and more educational opportunities than others.  Who knows which student sitting in my enrichment class would have been inspired to public service on that trip?  Who knows which student, by learning about the presidents, would have been inspired to take on a leadership role as an adult?  This inequitable access to education disturbs me to this day because it hasn't gotten any better, and we haven't demanded the change.

And so, when my husband and I decided to go on a last minute (and belated 15th anniversary) trip, we decided it was time to fill this gap in my experience and travel to DC.  (I would also add that I had been to the country of Liechtenstein but not to my nation's capital, which I find hilarious.)

I have to tell you, DC exceeded my expectations.  On our first evening, we walked the monuments, which were grander and more profound than I could have imagined.  In particular, the FDR monument, with its words upon words, spoke directly to me and to my beliefs and longings for our nation.  The Korean War monument took me aback; I don't know why this one doesn't get more attention.  The emotion I felt as we approached was only enhanced by the detail on the soldiers' faces as we got closer.  The Vietnam memorial was also more moving than I had expected--perhaps that is because there was an older man in a worn, brimmed hat and a vest covered with buttons standing still, staring at a particular name.  As I walked past, he reached out and felt the letters with his fingers.  I had to walk away; it was too much.  And the Lincoln Memorial--this is one I've longed to see since I was a child.  Standing behind the engraved spot where Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his "I Have a Dream" speech as his voice echoed over the National Mall was a moment in my life that I will always hold dear.  The power of words was everywhere, carved into every monument, a testament to the endurance of language.

We toured the Air and Space Museum, the American History Museum (where I saw the table on which Elizabeth Cady Stanton wrote the Declaration of Sentiments, the ink pots used by Lincoln to sign the Emancipation Proclamation, and Thomas Jefferson's desk upon which his wrote the Declaration of Independence, to name just a few!), the Natural History Museum (dinosaurs!), The National Archives, and the Capitol.  We even got to sit in as the House of Representatives was in session.

But the highlight for me, to no one's surprise, was the Library of Congress.  I'm not sure that even now, a month later, I have the words for what I saw and felt inside that building.  I stood with Thomas Jefferson's library.  I gazed into the breathtaking reading room.  I read every Jefferson quote emblazoned on the arches and walls.  I want to move into that building and live there forever.  Surely friends will sneak in food and water for me.  It was truly a shrine to knowledge and to reading and to words...it was my perfect place.

I cannot wait to return to Washington DC.  The trip renewed my faith in democracy and in the positive power of government.  My husband chased a congresswoman across the Capitol grounds for a picture, and she cheerfully obliged.  Our intern tour guide at the Capitol told us how his job had shown him the good that happens in Washington, the collaboration we never see.  The words that speak forth from every building tell of equality and justice.  I could not help but be inspired to use my words to make those ideals a reality.  Inspiring words are everywhere, carved into stone never to be scraped away.  Let's keep those words at the forefront of all we do, and let's demand that those who represent us do as well.

Having recently returned from Europe, I'll be honest...I was spending a lot of time daydreaming about how much better it would be to live in one of the beautiful countries I visited.  I needed this trip to remind me of the power of the American spirit and the pain, but also the enduring determination, of the American journey.  The words I saw in DC matter.  Nay, they're essential.  They have made us "America".  Let's listen to them, honor them, and ensure they endure.

Best of 2018

After a brief hiatus, this post, originally posted in December 2018, is back on the blog!

Greetings! Tonight is New Year's Eve, and I've been reflecting on the year, as I'm sure many of you have. To be honest, I often approach the new year with a bit of trepidation. It's a huge question mark. This year, however, I'm actually excited for all that the new year has in store. Sweet Divinity is set for publication in 2019. I'm working on establishing a name in freelance writing. I have tickets to see Fleetwood Mac and Elton John early in the year. I'm turning fabulous forty.

So much to look forward to!

But before I look too far ahead, I'm looking back. I've been excited to see that quite a few people I follow on social media have been sharing their "Best Of" lists, and so I thought I'd add mine to the mix.

I read fifty books this year, and I'd like to share my top ten with you. I enter my books on Goodreads immediately upon reading the final page. The following books received my highest ranking this year. You should know that I'm very picky with my five star ranking. These lucky books are listed beginning with the most recently read.


Blue Iris: Poems and Essays by Mary Oliver
Call Me By Your Name by Andre Aciman
Red Bird by Mary Oliver
Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood by Trevor Noah
The Origin of Others by Toni Morrison
The Marvels by Brian Selznick
We Should All Be Feminists by Chimamanda Adichie
The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas
Amazing Peace: A Christmas Poem by Maya Angelou

And this one received four stars but still makes the top ten:
Warlight by Michael Ondaatje

Please share the best book you read this year...I'll add it to my list for 2019!

I wish you all the best in the new year. May it be filled with passion, confidence, and joy.

My Watch List

After a brief hiatus, this post, originally posted in December 2018, has returned to the blog!

Perhaps the question I'm most often asked by young people is, "What do you watch?" In the age of binge-watching and Netflix, this question seems to have taken over the classic, "What are you reading?". I read constantly, and right now I'm in the midst of a self-help frenzy; after all, I somehow timed my family so that I have a tween and a toddler in the house!

I do watch a few shows religiously. I'm not proud of all of them, but I'm not embarrassed either. What we watch says a lot about us; this I believe. And I give you the freedom to judge me based on my watch list.

Outlander: I've come late to the party on this one (much as I did with Downton Abbey and my all-time favorite show: Lost--not Penny's boat!); however, I have been fully immersed for the past few weeks catching up on this gem. I read the book about eight years ago as part of a book club, and I fully admit, I had dreaded reading it, thinking my high brow taste for classic literature would be offended. Wrong. I was captivated by the historic setting, the politics, the romance. And now the same can be said for the Starz adaptation. I love escaping into another world, another time. I love gazing upon the rich landscape, and I adore the characters. I'm certain that this show is going to break my heart every time I sit down to watch. I'm right.

Jane the Virgin: A friend recommended this show to me after I rolled my eyes at her insistence that it was great. The title didn't appeal to me in the least. Yet I soon realized that this show is everything I love in entertainment. The casting is spectacular. It has all the drama of a telenovela (and I'm a dramatic lady). The writing is absolutely fantastic. And best of all? The protagonist is a writer, struggling to publish and to make her way through this unpredictable profession. She's optimistic, romantic, and loving--and her father is one of my favorite characters ever! This show depicts familial love in such a beautiful way. My heart is happy every time I watch.

Star Trek: Beyond: I came to Trek through marriage, but I'm all in. As a child, I watched a little TNG and I saw Star Trek VI in theatres because Christian Slater was in it for two seconds. This iteration of Trek is compelling each and every week. The writing is tight and the filming is technically brilliant. It remembers that what so many of us love about Trek are the character dynamics. And man, does this show have some dynamic characters!

Will and Grace: Fabulous in the 90's and fabulous now.

The Bachelor/Bachelorette/Bachelor in Paradise: I have watched every episode of this franchise, and I have no shame. I am absolutely a reality TV junkie. This series, in particular, feeds my love of romance and my desire to see "happily ever after". It doesn't matter to me if they end up actually getting married. I want to see people find love and happiness. And, full disclosure, I love the drama. And the dates. And world travel. And the clothes. And the beaches. And Ashley and Jared.

Dancing with the Stars: Every time I watch, I consider signing up for ballroom lessons, until I recognize, once again, that I am not at all coordinated. Though I do fantasize about becoming just famous enough to be asked on the show. I would happily don the costumes and make a fool of myself on national television, as long as Mark is my partner.

Queer Eye: Thank you, Netflix. I loved this show in its original iteration, but man, this new version is even better! Not only is the show uplifting, funny, and actually quite helpful (I can now identify a "french tuck"), but it's important and relevant. One of my favorite episodes features Karamo in a conversation about race and police brutality with a southern police officer. That's just one example of many times the show features dialogue amongst people who come from different backgrounds, belief systems, communities, and identity groups. This show is important. Required viewing.

That's about it. No crime dramas, medical dramas, weekly tear-jerkers, or I'm-So-Rich reality shows. That's fine for other people, but I like to want to jump into the shows I watch. I watch to experience a different life or a different world (you see what I did there? a great show from my childhood!). Any recommendations to augment my list?

The Mat--My Happy Place

I posted a photo on Instagram yesterday captioned, "My Happy Place."  I'm not sure that most people know that I practice yoga every single day...so there's a fun fact for you!

I attended my first yoga class during my senior year of high school.  One of the women in my family and I had hit a rough patch, and so we went to yoga together to try to bring peace between us.  I'll never forget walking in and seeing the instructor for the first time--he looked exactly as I'd imagined every yogi looking: tall and thin with a tie dyed t-shirt, baggy sweatpants, and long, wavy hair to his waist, tied back in a ponytail.  He led us through our poses with his soothing voice and then guided us through final meditation (my seventeen-year old self didn't quite have the maturity for that part yet--at least not as he led us).  Yoga didn't "take", we'll say.  I went to a few classes, but I couldn't commit.

Fast forward ten years, and I found myself back in class.  As I've written, I suffer from an anxiety disorder.  I know it and I claim it, and I decided yoga might be helpful.  Thus, I began taking a restorative yoga class on Sunday afternoons at the local gym.  The teacher, Nicole, was just right for this class.  Her voice was beautiful and sing-songy, and when she chanted--ah!!!  We used our bolsters and blocks to relax into poses, and during final meditation, Nicole would cover us with blankets and put eye pillows filled with lavender over our eyes.  At least once a month I would fall asleep during meditation.  It was heavenly--perfect if you're in need of self-care.

I also took hatha yoga and power yoga classes, though inconsistently.  Then I got pregnant with my daughter and yoga was over (let the record show that I did purchase a "Prenatal Yoga" video, which I completed a couple of times, but I'm being real--I was a pretty huge and immobile pregnant woman early on).

I returned to yoga a few years later, when I was in the deepest place of anxiety I had ever been.  Both my pastor and my doctor recommended yoga and meditation in addition to medication and therapy, and I was excited at the prospect: I had deeply missed my time on the mat.

So now I practice yoga every morning, first thing (unless I've done something silly like over-snoozed, in which case I practice before bed that night).  It begins my day perfectly.  My favorite spot to unroll the mat is in our library, facing the open windows at the front of the house.  Our yard is beautiful and green, and in the fall we have the most beautiful tree in the South.  This view connects me with nature, with my breath, with God, with the earth.  It grounds me.  Yoga reminds me to appreciate my body, my heart, my mind, and my strength.  In fact, most often my mantra is, "I am strong."

Centering myself at the beginning of the day clears my mind, refocuses me on gratitude, and helps me begin with a fresh, anxiety-free slate.  On particularly difficult days, I'll add in a ten minute meditation at the end of my practice.

Now you may be asking, "What does this have to do with words?"  Everything.  The words in yoga are breathtaking.  From "ujjayi" and "chaturanga" to "savasana" and "namaste", the words flow beautifully, guide the breath, and fill me up.

No matter if it's at a yoga studio where everyone's ujjayi breaths sound like Darth Vader descending into the room or if it's at the gym with blankets and eye pillows, I hope you'll give it a try.  Remember that yoga is a practice; no one expects you to hit and hold the poses perfectly.  As with most things in life, we are continuously practicing.

If you'd like to get a start at home because you cannot imagine trying to get yourself into downward facing dog in front of strangers, I recommend the YouTube channel "Yoga with Adriene".  She has videos on all of the foundational poses of yoga, and her "30 Days of Yoga" challenge is a great direction from there.  Plus, her catchphrase is "Find What Feels Good", so you know you're with a chill yogi.

For an introduction to meditation, search for guided meditations by Deepak Chopra on YouTube. I found him through Oprah, so there's an endorsement for ya!

Literary Travels, Part IV

The final leg of my trip to Europe provided a return to somewhere I had visited my freshman year of high school (in other words, a couple of decades ago!): Amsterdam.  I have to tell you, visiting Amsterdam as a chaperone versus as a student is an entirely different experience!  But that's another conversation.

During our two days in Amsterdam, we were able to see much of this beautiful city.  We took a canal tour that provided us with history as well as a description of Amsterdam's modern buildings and contemporary way of life.  I found the emphasis on bicycle riding particularly inspiring.  Bicycles are everywhere in this city.  In fact, whereas we were used to seeing car parks as we traveled throughout Europe, in Amsterdam, we saw bicycle parks!

The canals of Amsterdam, the architecture of the buildings, and the emphasis on flowers and greenery are what truly lend charm and beauty to this city.  There's an interplay of natural and man-made elements--a harmony--that is unlike any other major city I have visited.

As you may recall from my earlier posts, I had several comical disappointments on the trip (and I write these words with full, authentic gratitude for the opportunity to travel abroad), beginning with my attempt to finally commune with Thomas Hardy in Poet's Corner.  The trip began this way, and it ended with another "You've Got to Be Kidding Me" moment.

My favorite visual artist is Rembrandt.  Since my first visit to Amsterdam in 1995, I have been entranced by his work, particularly his use of chiaroscuro.  In high school, we studied him in my American Literature class as part of our Scarlet Letter unit (discussing Hawthorne as a painter with words).  I even had a print of what is referred to as "Self Portrait with Disheveled Hair" (my favorite!) hanging on my wall as a teenager.  So imagine my excitement when we walk up to the Rjiksmuseum and see a huge banner proclaiming the "Year of Rembrandt", a year in which every Rembrandt piece the museum holds will be on special display!  Let's just say I was overcome.

So here's the scene:

We enter the museum and I am so giddy I'm like a kid on Christmas morning.  I can barely stand still as we're given instructions and reminded of the time we're due back.  At last, we're released, and I run--literally run--to the special exhibit where I learn I need a special ticket.  No problem; this is absolutely worth the extra money.  I go to the ticket counter where I see "Rembrandt Exhibit Sold Out Today."  Our last day in Amsterdam.

But that's okay.  Ever the optimist, I know that my favorite Rembrandt--"Self Portrait with Disheveled Hair" (I really love that title) is on permanent exhibit, so while this is disappointing, that's the way things go.  And so I follow my terribly confusing map for the next half hour as I desperately seek the Rembrandt permanent exhibit.  I see "The Night Watch", which is great and all, but I'm after the hair!  Finally I find the room, tucked between two larger galleries (I also ran into Van Gogh on the way, which was utterly amazing!).

I enter the gallery, calm my breath (I've eaten way too many pastries on this trip), and leisurely walk about, playing it cool while freaking out inside.

I don't see a single Rembrandt.

I check the map again.  I am definitely in the correct gallery.

And that is when I see the small, freshly printed sign: "The Rembrandt pieces usually on display have been moved to be part of 'The Year of Rembrandt Exhibit'".

Seriously, y'all.  You have to decide: do you cry or do you laugh?

Trick question: you buy goat cheese pie and hot chocolate and throw yourself a pity party at the museum cafe.

But once fed and sugared, I made my way with an understanding friend to the museum library.  This exists!  And it's beautiful!  It looks like the library in Beauty and the Beast with a second floor overlooking the research desks where scholars are reading about the artists whose works are on display inside the museum.  I may not have gotten to gaze upon the brushstrokes of Rembrandt, but there's little in this life that standing in a beautiful library cannot (at least temporarily) fix.

Yet the most outstanding experience in Amsterdam--literary or otherwise--had to be our visit to the Anne Frank House.  I had visited this site in high school as well, and it has certainly expanded since then with a large visitor's center in the building adjacent to the house.

I'm not sure how to convey the power of this place.  It's somewhere you simply must enter for yourself.  Walking up stairs tucked behind a bookcase, the same bookcase door and stairs that Anne and her family entered to take refuge in the secret annex, is a powerful experience.  Gazing upon her postcards, the "stars" with which she adorned her walls and that are still there, though now behind plexi-glass, breaks the heart.  Gazing upon the actual diary, the ink with which she wrote the words that have connected with so many fellow humans over these years, is almost unreal.  I had to walk out when the video of her father began playing.  The idea of this being my child was too much.  I stood outside with a friend (and fellow mom) and wept.

I won't do it justice, so I will not try to describe the visit here.  Yet I urge you to get there and experience it for yourself.  You cannot go inside that building and come out without feeling compelled to do whatever it takes to prevent further atrocity in this world.  We must--we must demand peace and kindness everywhere.

My literary travels complete, I flew home the following day, still processing everything I had seen and experienced.  As we flew away from Europe, I saw a farm of solar turbines in the waters of the Atlantic, turning beautifully in the morning sun.  There was something about that sight that touched me.  Maybe you'll find this silly, but they brought me hope.  Hope that we can do better.  Hope that we can use our experiences to improve life for all of creation.

Words matter.

Keep Christ in Christmas

This post was taken down for a bit, but I'm excited to return it to the blog! It originally appeared in December 2018.

I was recently asked to give a talk at a non-denominational student gathering.  Here is what I presented. I hope it gives you some food for thought. No matter your creed, faith, or personal beliefs, I wish you the happiest of holidays!  May we all see in one another beautiful beings embodying inherent worth and dignity.

Good morning.  I’m so honored to be here with you today.  I’ve been to many Agape gatherings in previous years, and I’ve always been impressed with the atmosphere you’ve created here.  An atmosphere of love, acceptance, and fellowship. An atmosphere of unity. As a Lutheran, I’ve also appreciated your willingness to invite protestant preachers and teachers, to hear their witness to the love of Christ.  It helps us see what we all have in common.

I’ve given a lot of thought to what I should talk about today.  I don’t have much opportunity to talk about my faith journey in my everyday life, and yet it is such an essential part of who I am. .

There’s so much I’d like to say to you, but since we’re in my favorite season, Advent, I thought I would talk a little bit about what’s heavy on my heart this Advent, and give you some suggestions of how you and I can make these Advent and Christmas seasons more Christ-centered.

I’m struggling this Advent.  It’s my favorite time of year, but this year I’m having a difficult time getting into the spirit of things.  Like I said, I love Advent. I love going to church every Sunday and seeing the Advent candles lit (and I love the song we sing while we light them). I love the Christmas pageant my kids participate in at church.  I love the service of Lessons and Carols I was at this past Wednesday. And, in a broader context, I love driving around and looking at Christmas lights. I love wrapping gifts. I love baking and giving treats away in bags signed, “From the Christmas Elves”.  I love Charlie Brown Christmas.  I love Linus telling the Christmas story, even though I thought it was long and boring as a child.  I love decorating. I love Christmas Eve service and singing “Silent Night” by candlelight.

But I’m struggling this year.  And here’s why.

Everywhere I turn I see signs proclaiming “Keep Christ in Christmas”.  I turn on the news to see people getting all uptight about people greeting one another with “Happy Holidays” or angrily proclaiming that the Starbucks cup isn’t “Christmasy” enough. And then the very next story, on the very same news channel, is about the dangers of immigrants and asylum seekers followed by people arguing about what we’re supposed to do to keep other people away from us.

And this bothers me.  It doesn’t necessarily bother me for political reasons.  It bothers me because how we treat others is a Christian issue.  And if we’re so concerned with “Keeping Christ in Christmas”, then we need to realize that WE are the way to keep Christ in Christmas.  As many of you know, I have a motto by which I live. "Words matter". So when we say “Keep Christ in Christmas”, we need to mean it. And not just by making sure we aren’t consumed by materialism, but by being Christ to those around us.  "Keep Christ in Christmas" should be an instruction, a directive, of how we treat one another not only at Christmastime, but all year long.

When I was in high school, it was really popular to wear “WWJD” bracelets--What Would Jesus Do?  And as much as that became a trend, the message is correct.

Being Christ to others--Keeping Christ in Christmas.  That means seeing everyone around us with the inherent human dignity that they embody as children of God. That means speaking of and to our LGBTQIA+ brothers and sisters with dignity. That means not using words like “Gay” and “Retarded” as derogatory terms.  Words that describe something essential to the identity of others should NEVER be used to tear people down. Keeping Christ in Christmas means seeing the beauty of faith in people who have different religious beliefs than ours. It means asking questions and learning from people whose stories differ from our own.

What would Jesus do?  Jesus was the best listener.  He would sit amongst those who were different, those who would scare many of us or make us uncomfortable, and he would listen and then extend love to each and every one of them.  I see the way people are treated in this country and in this school as a serious issue for Christians, because we are called to love everyone.

The Book of John reads:

"As the Father has loved me, so I have I loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you."

We need to look at asylum seekers with Christian eyes.  Where would Jesus be? Would He be to the side, his back turned, overgeneralizing and looking at a group as a threat?  No. He would be amongst them, seeing the humanity in every man, woman, and child. He would be listening. He would be loving.  He would be a protector, to be sure. But He would not dismiss people out of hand.

If Jesus were in the hallway of this school, and He heard someone use a slur against another student or in reference to a student who wasn’t present, would He walk past?  No. He would intervene immediately. And probably flip over a table.

You see, Jesus isn’t a bystander.  Jesus is political. Jesus is engaged.  Jesus is passionate. And Jesus is a listener.

Okay, Mrs. Koon, this is a pretty tall order.  What are you suggesting we do?

I’ll tell you.

I’m suggesting that you decide that this Advent, you will look at every person you encounter as the child of God that they are.  I’m suggesting that you acknowledge the inherent dignity of every single person. Every single creation of God.

I’m suggesting that you leave a note in the locker of someone whom you often see alone.  A note that says, “You are a beautiful child of God. Merry Christmas.”

I’m suggesting that the next time you hear someone call someone else or something “gay” or “retarded”, you intervene.  Tell them that they cannot use that language. Be Christ turning over the tables. Be brave through your faith.

I’m suggesting you reach out to those in need.  Jesus was a migrant, an asylum seeker, a baby in need. Reach out to those who are also sleeping in cardboard boxes and shanties.  Reach out with prayer. Or, at the very least, look at their faces and see the dignity within. See the person in front of you, created by God.

I’m suggesting that you tell members of our school community who feel isolated because they are a minority--through race, sexual identity, socioeconomic status, or religious belief--that they are loved and appreciated. That they have inherent worth.

I’m suggesting that we all take responsibility for our words.

I see signs of Christ’s love everywhere.  I see it when a student hugs a crying classmate in the hall.  I see it when a student writes a thoughtful message on a clothespin and clips it to the backpack of a student who is completely unaware.  I see it when teachers share the "ah-ha" moments of students in class. I see it when I hear people ringing bells next to Salvation Army kettles.  I see it when my son looks at me and says, with no prompting, “Mommy, I just love you.” I see it when students sit in my class arguing for justice and reconciliation in the world.  I see it when a student reaches out to someone they don’t know and says, “It’ll get better.”

I’m suggesting that this Christmas we move beyond words.  I’m suggesting that this Christmas we don’t just say “Keep Christ in Christmas”.  I’m suggesting that we BE Christ in Christmas and in this world. I’m suggesting that we take it upon ourselves through our words and actions, to be the ones who keep Christ in Christmas.  Not on a banner, a bumper sticker, or a billboard, but through our actions and our words. Be Christ for others. Create the Kingdom of God on Earth. Keep Christ in Christmas. Be Christ to all of God’s children.

I want to close by praying over all of you.  I love praying over people, and I don’t get to do it as often as I would like.

Lord, I pray that you would bless these students.  Bless their tongues that they may speak words that spread your love, bless their hands that they may reach out and hold the hands of those in need of your touch.  Bless their eyes that they may see You in all people. Bless their hearts, that they may be open to seeing ALL people, every single one, as a child of God, no matter the person’s race, age, gender, sexual identity, physical and mental ability, socioeconomic status, political party, nationality, religious faith.  May we not pass the judgement on others that we so fear being passed on us. Bless them that they may have the courage to speak out against the words and actions that harm our precious brothers and sisters. I give you thanks, Lord, for the opportunity to be your face in the world. I give you thanks for these beautiful students. May we be, above all, the face of Your love.

Amen.

Literary Travels, Part III

On my recent European trip, the grandest surprise had to be Belgium.  I'd heard from multiple people that Belgium was a beautiful, amazing country, and yet, I'm ashamed to say, before this trip, I would never had said that Belgium was on my bucket list.

I can now say that returning to Belgium is near the top of that list.

First: The Food.  And if you know me at all, you could have guessed that this element would be first.  I love food.  I love exploring culturally and ethnically diverse foods, gawking at beautiful foods, cherishing fresh foods, and, in general, eating.  My first meal in Belgium consisted of hot chocolate, croquettes, and frites.  This may not seems like an overly exciting meal, but, by golly, it was my favorite meal of the trip.  The hot chocolate was delivered in pieces; by that I mean that the warm milk arrived in a clear, insulated cup and was accompanied by a ramekin of dark chocolate chips, a ramekin of whipped cream, and a spoon.  I poured the chips in and watched them melt, swirling about the milk until it was a creamy brown.  I dolloped the fresh whipped cream on top and then stirred, thickening my drink.  And then I tasted the greatest hot chocolate of my life.  It was a hot day and I was outside--no worries.  I savored every sip.

The croquettes were cheese (real, European cheese), perfectly crispy, and served with a sweet and tangy, semi-creamy dip that I could have eaten with a spoon.  And the frites--OH, the frites!

That evening I enjoyed a freshly made waffle slathered with nutella and chopped bananas at a "Waffleteria" (that's real, y'all!), true Belgian chocolates, and Belgian beef stew.  And for breakfast I went downstairs in the hotel to find a cheese station, a meat station, a bread station, a fruit station, and--best of all--an orange juice machine that squeezed the oranges before my eyes!  I'll tell you this, Europe does breakfast right!

The Literature: Before you read on, I suggest you read the poem "In Flanders Fields" by John McCrae.  For it was in Belgium that we visited these fields.  We first went through a museum that included a recreation of both trenches and dugouts.  Then we took a stroll along a path cutting through the fields where bloody warfare took place during World War I.  It was a beautiful day.  Butterflies cut across the path, tractors plowed fields now producing livelihood, and homes with swing sets in the backyard stood just across the grass that spread from either side of us.  It was a solemn walk, and I was struck by the beauty of this place in contrast to the images we had seen in the museum.  It's difficult to make that walk, to see the remnants of dugout entrances and solidified bags still standing at the sites of trenches, and not feel that war must be ended everywhere.  We ended at Tyne Cot Cemetery where rows of white markers were dotted with red poppies.

That evening, in Ypres, we attended the Last Post Ceremony at the Menin Gate.  This ceremony began in 1928, and has been taking place every night since (with exception during the second world war).  Words cannot describe the solemnity of this occasion.  It was certainly one of the most meaningful experiences of my life.

Bruges: Finally, visiting Bruges for a lunch break was a highlight of my time in Belgium.  This beautiful, medieval city is a place to which I will certainly return.  The city is surrounded by a wall and is sometimes referred to as the "Venice of the North" because of its many canals.  The highlights for me were the Church of our Lady, where we saw an authentic Michelangelo, The Basilica of the Holy Blood, which contains the relic of the Holy Blood, and the Markt with its beautifully painted buildings and impressive belfry.  I enjoyed stolling the streets, looking at the windows which housed intricate miniatures, Christmas decorations, and needlepoint pillows and handkerchiefs.  It was on this stroll that I consumed a "Waffle on a Stick" because--obviously!  But the best part of our visit was sitting with my friends, eating frites at a table in the Markt.  This is a city I want to return to and dwell in.  The medieval architecture still intact, the sights of Bruges are unlike anywhere I have been.

Belgium--you were more than I could have expected.

https://poets.org/poem/flanders-fields
http://www.greatwar.co.uk/events/menin-gate-last-post-ceremony.htm