Today I realized why I've sucked butt at blogging lately. It's not that it's slipped my mind...or that I'm too busy doing other things. It's not even that I'm being indolent. It's the simple fact that for some reason I've been waiting for something big to happen. Something to just scream, "WRITE ABOUT ME!!!!" But that's not how it works is it...? Yes, there are going to be some events worthy enough for the "BLOG RIGHT NOW! BLOG RIGHT NOW! ....type feeling." But it hit me today as I was strolling through Zenica, just conversing with Pops, with the sun slowly creeping behind the mountains, and the breeze catching hold my nostrils and stuffing them with that rich smell of burning wood and cigarettes, that as I'm being formed into this man that God is shaping me to be, a more intentional life I must live. Everything is blog worthy. Cos everyday I am learning and questioning and growing and relishing in his presence. Just gotta keep my ears perked up ready to listen, and my eyes open wide ready to see.
The funeral was held today for Slado's (my language teacher) mother. She had been relieved of a painful bout with cancer and today, as her family and many friends gathered around to watch and pay their respects, she was laid to rest on a quaint Bosnian hillside. I do say it was quite a moving experience for me to be a part of a Bosnian funeral. And as I stood there today, with my heart going out to Slado and his family as they grieved, the thought of Nana crept into my head. When my grandmother died this past summer I was on my backpacking trip with Kevin and wasn't able to be there in attendance for her memorial service. I haven't really thought about it much since I stood on the beach and let the summer tide slowly bury me in the soft sand for hours. (That in itself seemed to be an adequate heeling mechanism) But today I stood, and those same tears returned. It was a time of much needed reflection and appreciation for life and how much of an impact one can have. I miss my Nana, but I know she's free from pain...just partying it up with Jesus. My prayer now is for my widowed grandfather. May he realize that life is a gift. That Nana's life was a gift. And may he not cast his faith and praise aside for hollow relief from loneliness and grief. Pop, you are loved. And you are not alone.
So, for weeks now there has been this apple hanging on the tree just beyond the balcony. Each day it grows and ripens more and more into this beautiful, ruby red, just deliciously perfect looking apple. And each day I'm torn whether or not to shimmy up the tree and pick said apple. My haunting fear is that on the other side, the side not visible to me, there will be some huge, disgusting bruise or tracings of a worm hole that looks far from appetizing...just a downright hideous feature that will attribute to a horrible tainting of it's flawless appearance from the side facing me. So, I'm left to admire from a distance, helplessly salivating in awe of this hanging fruit. This mental dilemma has seriously gone on for weeks. For I really want to eat Mr. Tasty Looking Apple, but I don't want my perception of its unblemished self to be tinged. It's like when you look at something from a distance, and from that distance it looks golden and beautiful...but as you approach it closer and closer you begin to notice its many faults and disfigurements. I really don't want that to happen with this apple for some reason. For the time being I just want the illusion that it's without fault. Watch tomorrow the wind blow and it fall the some fifteen feet, hit the ground and rot. I dunno man. Perhaps this could be a sermon illustration...or perhaps it could just be me being ridiculous and having too much time on my hands to think of such things. haha =P Kako smiješno!
...hope all is well...
Grace and Peace,
Kaleb
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