Rembrandt is considered by some to be the greatest of all artists in the history of western civilization. Any way we look at him, he is a timeless giant in the arenas of creative expression. Rembrandt was a master of painting light and blending color. As one looks at a Rembrandt, it is easy to marvel at his talent. Yet we must look behind his paintings, beyond the museum walls into his life. First, Rembrandt and his wife, Saskia, experienced the excruciating death of
Read MoreI ENJOY WORKING WITH PAINTS, mixing colors, experimenting with the effect they make on the canvas. In the past, I worked with acrylics and water colors. Now, finally, I’m beginning to experiment with oils. Oils are more difficult, but they offer so much more potential. One difficulty with oils is that they take so long to dry. Recently, my daughter Katie picked up one of my paintings. She felt horrible when she realized that her fingers had smudged up the paint. I told her not to worry about it. After all,
Read MoreMy doorbell rang this morning at 4 AM. I was expecting out-of-town guests to show up at 6AM, and I figured it was them coming early, way too early. I jumped up in my bed-headed and confused state and greeted the three visitors waiting patiently at my gate. They had just traveled all night in a chartered minivan from the resort island of Bali, which is one island over and 10 hours away from Java, where I live. They came this week to learn from our team on how to start an outsourcing business, something we did three years ago in Java. All three of them have a heart to see people lifted out of drug addiction and the sex trade industry of Bali, and they know that people who escape that degradation need a steady job to stay free. Prostitutes simply don’t have a lot of other job options, even if they somehow able to pay off their debts. They need gainful employment for the long haul. My three new friends are determined to give people like that new opportunities. Welcome to the world of Social Entrepreneurship.
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Spirit of God come and breathe in me.
Flow into this tired soul. Awaken light into my eyes. Fill me with your dreams and visions. Unleash my faith. Awaken my imagination. Strengthen my hands. Quicken my feet. Set my joy free. Set my heart on fire. Blaze a trail of hope into every place you send me today.
A few days ago I was driving along a winding, two laned road in the direction of another city where we are planning to open a new Christian school. I sailed along that road for about four hours, winding my way around the occasional horse drawn cart, enjoying the green rice terraces, the simple villages, the mango trees and coconut palms bursting out of the fertile earth everywhere. And as I took in the spectacular slopes sweeping upwards toward towering Mount Bromo, I began to reminisce. Read More
Class starts at 7:00 a.m. and the Indonesian college students begin shuffling in just a little after. They make their way to their desks inside this dirty and crowded classroom, which is already a bit hot since there is no air conditioning in the room. There is one fan, and for that their lecturer is very thankful.
The lecturer, an American, begins by giving back homework that he has already graded and corrected. He calls their names out one by one, “Abdul, Much, Dyan, Agus…,” until most of the 50 or so students all have their homework back. He apologizes to the students who have “no credit” written across their papers. He explains to them again that if they copy from each other’s paper they will get no credit. They are not allowed to work together in this way on homework assignments. Read More
Since I turned 40, one event after another has reminded me that I am approaching eternity as a train approaches a train station … every tick of my watch is a clattering step along the tracks, each moment ever closer to the end of this noisy, breezy, winding, enigmatic life on earth. I press my face to the window … but I cannot see to the front … I must be content to look through the window and watch the scenes of my life blinking past. Metaphorically, perhaps, I am able to feel the coldness of the grave somewhere out there in the night. Here in the reflection of this glass I can see the artwork of death, the dissipation of my youth, (shrewd, deceptive, temperamental youth!) and yet somehow I am not afraid. The Spirit is being poured into my inner being. Life is getting to be so rich, so deep. I am crossing the bridge … molting … leaving my skin behind, waking up in the glorious aesthetics of the soul.
Kierkegaard wrote of life and imminent death, comparing men and women of faith to lilies of the field: “[The lily's] coming into being becomes its destruction, indeed it seems as if it came into existence and became beautiful only to be destroyed—yet the obedient lily obediently submits to this, Read More
Our family moved to Indonesia in 1999 and took our first trip back to the U.S. two years later. After that much time overseas the host culture had done a pretty good job of squeezing our personalities and shifting our values. We had definitely slogged through the various stages of “culture shock” and after two years felt pretty comfortable in Indonesia. We were curious upon our homecoming if we would experience, “reverse culture shock,” which people say is worse than the original ailment. Culture shock you expect in a new country. Home you know. You don’t expect to be shocked in this wistful, magical environment you imagine as near perfect. But you’ve changed, and you don’t even realize it until a cultural glass of cold water is splashed in your face.
Here’s an example. In Indonesia, the workforce is more labor intensive than in the U.S. A small boutique at the mall may have seven people working in it, all anxiously vying to help you. When my wife Stephanie would shop at a baby store, two or three small Indonesian ladies would follow her up and down the aisles and ask if she would like to buy this baby bottle or this cute little outfit. Read More
