Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Hawaiian Soul

My parents played an album when I was a kid that just knocked me out--I first heard it when I was around 7 years old. It was a Hawaiian choral performance from the King Kamehameha High School. I loved it. This video is recent, not from 1969, but it sounds just the same. There's something about this that calms my spirit.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Philippians 4:8

Vacation is over.  I am sad, but the time off has done its job.  There is a renewed energy and a better attitude--not that I didn't have energy or a good attitude before, but there is an improvement.  I'm refreshed.

I'd post photos, but I still am a horrible photographer, even with all the digital help I have.  Whenever I've taken photos, I've been disappointed that the pictures don't capture the entire experience I was having at the moment--the visuals are so limiting to me.  The colors aren't what I actually saw, the feeling is lost and everything seems so flat.

For instance, Sun Young Park and I are sitting on rocks in a sheltered cove at the Point Lobos State Reserve.  The sun's warmth is competing with the chilly wind blowing in from the Pacific.  Sun Young is contemplating a few changes to her schedule, because she needs a break from work--the tension is rolling off her countenance as she gazes at the waves breaking against the shore.  She forgot what peace and tranquility felt like.  And it's a five minute drive from her apartment.  I am listening, and the gorgeous scenery I am beholding is affected by the beauty of  the honest conversation I'm having with my tired friend.  We pray for wisdom to seek God first and avoid the tyranny of the urgent.  We praise Him for the wonder of His creativity--He didn't just build ocean and land, He decided to make their junction breathtaking to our human eyes.  And the appreciation of my experience at that moment with this particular friend has taken on a whole new dimension because I know God is present.  Can't take a picture of that.

And while I'm scrubbing toilets at home or at work, the strength of that memory gets me through the monotany and the mundane.