Little Errors Big Trouble

Posted on September 24, 2013 by Pieter Stok

I have been re-reading old posts and I came across a reminder of how important proof reading is.

Pieter Stok's avatarTravels from Ur

I have discovered that writing posts on an iPad in a tent can be dangerous. My usual poor spelling and grammar is exacerbated by the small print and the predictive text. A few months ago while we were on the Camino in northern Spain this got me into trouble when I was writing about my wife, Hetty. The predictive text changed it to “hefty” without me noticing … and I didn’t check the spelling carefully. My “friends” who read the blog all made sure my wife became aware of my error, many adding, that they didn’t think it was a real error. One of daughters, however, who has since been upgraded in the will, suggested I was referring to my rucksack.

Apart from finding out who my true friends were it is also a good illustration of the power of sin. “For we all have sinned an fall short of…

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Thank you again!

Posted on September 24, 2013 by Pieter Stok

It is term break and I have a bung knee so it has been a good opportunity to look more closely at all the emails and comments I have received relating to readers’ experience of church as a child. To sum up my reaction: it has been moving and challenging! In all it has given me further impetus to find time to carry on this project. The way we see our children in the life of the church is critical.

Thank you again!

If readers have views on the topic of “Children and Church” please don’t hesitate to contact me.

pstok@iinet.net.au

 

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Early on a Sunday morning

Posted on September 22, 2013 by Pieter Stok

I have removed the inexplicable password protection!

Pieter Stok's avatarTravels from Ur

It is early on a Sunday morning and I am listening to a cd of old hymns.

There are many Christians who wouldn’t know a classic old hymn if they fell over it. The churches they attend only play the current contemporary songs – some which are wonderful but many are formulaic, and the worst are the “Jesus is my Boyfriend” type which only requires a slight tweak to become a contemporary secular song.

What do we lose by not singing historical hymns?

1. We lose the history of the church. We relegate the great movements in the church to the dust pile. The medieval hymn “O sacred head now wounded”, possibly written by Bernard of Clairvaux, is an insight into the heart and soul of our medieval brothers and sisters as they contemplated and reflected on the death of their/our saviour. In the Geneva of the Reformation a passion…

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Early on a Sunday morning

Posted on September 22, 2013 by Pieter Stok

It is early on a Sunday morning and I am listening to a cd of old hymns.

There are many Christians who wouldn’t know a classic old hymn if they fell over it. The churches they attend only play the current contemporary songs – some which are wonderful but many are formulaic, and the worst are the “Jesus is my Boyfriend” type which only requires a slight tweak to become a contemporary secular song.

What do we lose by not singing historical hymns?

1. We lose the history of the church. We relegate the great movements in the church to the dust pile. The medieval hymn “O sacred head now wounded”, possibly written by Bernard of Clairvaux, is an insight into the heart and soul of our medieval brothers and sisters as they contemplated and reflected on the death of their/our saviour. In the Geneva of the Reformation a passion for the Psalms was renewed under the glow of the Reformation. And how else could we understand the heart of a regenerated slaver if it wasn’t for “Amazing Grace”.

2. We lose our connection with the saints of the past – their stories and journeys in the Kingdom. In other words we lose perspective. “It is well with my soul” also known as “When peace like a river” is the response of Horatio Spafford after first losing everything in the Chicago fire of 1871 and then losing his four daughters when their ship sank travelling to Europe. It is a testament to faith and trust under enormous personal hardship. If we don’t sing that hymn we are the losers.

3. I believe the worst aspect of failing to recognise the great hymns of the past is that we, in our C21st arrogance, make ourselves the centre of history and the universe rather than just seeing ourselves as a group of fellow pilgrims journeying over the centuries as we prepare for the return of the King.

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I remember …

Posted on September 19, 2013 by Pieter Stok

I remember
long unencumbered summers,
endless warm winded days at the beach,
surfing, swimming, sun-baking and surfing again,
furtively playing cards to the small hours,
walking home and the street lights turning off  at midnight.

I remember
scrambling along the river,
through mangroves and reeds,
finding signs of past boats fading in the mud,
sailing my own sabot – not too successfully!

I remember
treks into the bush,
sneaking out early with a friend,
parents unaware,
exploring in the early dawn
and yabbying with string and morsels of meat.

I remember ...

I remember …

I remember
cycling far afield
to other towns and places,
with lunch and possibilities
firmly tied on.

I remember
when worries were small
and life was big,
when dreams were limitless
and “no” un-thought of.

I remember
being young
but as they say,
‘that was another country’
and yet
… it still whispers to me.

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Wandering Around Dresden

Posted on September 16, 2013 by Pieter Stok
The Frauenkirche fronted by a statue of Martin Luther

The Frauenkirche fronted by a statue of Martin Luther

I remember wandering around Dresden ten years ago.  The Frauenkirche was still being reconstructed. On the side of a Soviet era building was a mural that would have done Stalin proud. However the local burgers in the new post unification Dresden had covered it with a thick shade cloth screen.

Surprisingly a number of public buildings were still in ruins and many continued  to show evidence of the terrible bombing and firestorm of February 1945 – nearly 60 years after the event. However it was obvious that Dresden had been a city of culture and that it was recapturing that sense again.

Furtz

The Fürstenzug

The Fürstenzug, a 100 metre C19th mural celebrating its medieval nobleman only received minor damage and was still a spectacular cavalcade.

Dresden MuralRecently my wife returned to Dresden and discovered that in the last 10 years the Frauenkirche has been completed and a lot of building and restoration has taken place. Dresden has come a long way to recapture past glories. Also the shade-cloth had been removed from the building with the mural – Dresden is coming to be at peace with its own history.

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Memories That Shape

Posted on September 3, 2013 by Pieter Stok

Two days ago I posted a poem my wife wrote about the death of her father 50 years ago when she was only seven. Her two sisters were nine and two years of age.

Last Sunday was the anniversary of her last “Fathers’ Day” with her dad and today is the anniversary of his death.

Hetty's Family048

My wife (right), her sisters and their Papa … and the puss.

Fifty years later the events of this day are still firmly embedded in her mind. The events, the emotions and the memories have remained clear all these years.

Dad’s are such a critical presence in a child’s life. Even an absent dad.

The girls grew up with a mythology of what having a dad would have been like. Our first argument after we were married was about who would take the rubbish bin out. In my wife’s mind this was the job her father would have done for his wife if he had been alive. I lost the argument – and most others since.

In many ways my wife’s memories of seven years are just as powerful as my memories of my father over 44 years. Her memories of family walks, dad coming home after work, meal times, stories and the like are etched so clearly and deeply – reinforced by years of remembered loss.

Not all the memories, we have discovered over time, were accurate. Because there was a tool box in the house didn’t mean that he was a brilliant handyman. That is what my wife thought and that is the image that she compared me with. She found out many years after we were married that this was far from the truth. This took some of the burden off me!

Warm memories are like treasures which we nurture and protect. We can take them out of the box every now and then to admire and to reminisce. They give perspective and depth to our lives and take us out of our present and anchor us in our past.

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Thee Days, Fifty Years

Posted on September 1, 2013 by Pieter Stok

In two days time it is the 50th anniversary of the death of my wife’s father – two days after Father’s Day. My wife was seven years of age at the time. She and her older sister had been modelling their mother’s newly made children’s dresses at a department store competition that day.

Three days, Fifty years

Fathers Day
Did we sit around him as he unwrapped his present
Did we help pull off the wrapping?
A wall lamp for his bed.
Did all five of us have an afternoon snooze
On the double bed, before a stroll around Norlane?
Did we throw our skinny little arms around him
That Fathers Day?

Monday, school holidays
Did we help him
Hand him the tools from the wooden box
As he mounted the lamp on the wall?
Did we dance around him in the backyard
Chewing on a carrot from the garden?
Did we snuggle close as he had a cigarette
on the porch
That Monday?

The Day
Did we watch Mama together
As she put the finishing touches on our dresses?
Did we squeal with excitement on our return
With our prizes?
While he cuddled Christine into the fold of his arm
That Day?
Did we say goodbye?

And then

He is gone.

Hetty Stok
1-3 September, 2013

Categories: Family, Poem, poetry | 1 Comment

A Skyped Voice

Posted on August 20, 2013 by Pieter Stok

A Skyped voice,
An Apple Message,
An Instagram photo
or even
a good old email,
is no replacement
for eyes meeting,
a tender touch
and a warm hug.

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When We Didn’t Find a Camp Ground in Time

Posted on August 6, 2013 by Pieter Stok

A while back I wrote about our favourite camping places. There have been times when we didn’t get to a camping place in time and we had to resort to sleeping in the car. Here are our non camping places.

1. In 2003 we arrived at our camping place in the Champagne region of France far too late. The gates were closed and the lights off. So we drove down a country lane and parked close to the grape vines. Trying to sleep in a Skoda Fabia is not an ideal way to spend a night. But at least were in a great part of France!

A Opel Mariva in Provence. Not an ideal car for sleeping in!

An Opel Mariva in Provence. Not an ideal car for sleeping in!

2. On the same trip we arrived late on the outskirts of Verona after crossing the Appennines in Winter. We stopped in an industrial car-park. Still in the Fabia we tried to sleep, my wife on the back seat and me in the front. I was kept awake by a series of furtive and clandestine exchanges made between trucks. Then a well dressed lady arrived at 2am in a BMW and left in a Mercedes.  She returned an hour later and also had me guessing.

3. Previously  I mentioned the brilliant camping places in Norway. The truck stop outside Drammen is not one of them. The Volvo S60 was more comfortable than the Fabia but it was still a car. Then again, the continuous heavy rain made the car more preferable to the tent.

4. Coming back from Germany one evening in the pouring rain we parked at a
truck stop just outside Venlo. This is not one of recommendations either.

5.  The final overnight stop occurred when we dropped of our daughter in Geneva so she could catch a train to Zurich. We were dead tired as we had already survived a blizzard while driving over the mountains towards Grenoble. That was a harrowing drive with the fog and snow, and quite a few vehicles involved in accidents. We couldn’t stop as there was nowhere, we could see, to leave the road. So finally we arrived at a hotel just outside Geneva without a booking. We were informed that the minimum stay was three nights and the total cost would be well over 600 Euro – and we only wanted to stay one night! I was that tired I couldn’t drive safely any further. So we parked in front of the hotel which was part of a shopping centre and saved 600 Euro.

So just as there are some spectacular places to camp, every now and then, the car has to be the last resort – the very last resort!

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