Downstairs Fun

Looking for the Pages usually listed on the right?  They moved to under our masthead!

One of the things we hope this blog does is allows you to "picture" what our life in Italy is like.  Obviously, there are a lot of differences between life in Italy and life in the States.  One such difference is the cantina (I'm not referring a Mexican restaurant here. . .).

I am not sure that cantinas exist all over Italy, but they are pretty common around Bologna.  Since Bologna was fairly decimated during WWII, most buildings have at least been built in this century.  Where as the average age of a building in Florence is probably 800 years old (no joke), the average age of a building here is probably 120.  All of that to say, the newer buildings took into account such things as automobiles and storage.

Underneath our apartment building, we have both a garage and a cantina.  Our garage is so small that if we didn't back into it, the door wouldn't be able to close because of the height of the back of our station wagon.  And it's so narrow that to be able to get out of the driver's side door, the passenger's side mirror has to almost scrape the opposing wall.  Absolutely it's a pain, but we are so thankful for it!  Not every apartment comes with a garage.  In fact, if you do have a garage, it's quite popular to rent it out.  The going rate is about 100Euro a month.

One half of the garage area

Our cantina is also under our building. It's in a long hallway than runs the length of our building and only residents can access it.  It's like a little storage unit. We had no idea cantinas existed before we actually arrived in the city, so we were blown away at the idea of having a little bit of storage space for things like luggage and bikes.

One of the hallways of cantinas.  Ours is just to the left.

It's really not a lot of space (maybe 4 feet by 12 feet), so to fit bikes in, we have to maximize it.

Since we don't have a backyard to speak of, the garage area of our apartment building has become a great substitute.  The kids can't just run down there, but it's ideal for riding bikes in a substantial but secured environment.  And when you live on a busy intersection in the middle of a city, that is a great blessing.

Hannah has also starting taking up rollerblading.  It's just called "inline" here, but a couple of her friends are into too.  It seems so grown up, but she's really having a great time with it.

Just before we left the States, Gavin mastered riding with no training wheels.  He had also grown so much that he needed a bigger bike when we returned.  There haven't been too many warm  (or dry!) days yet, but he's asked every opportunity he's had to practice his new skills.

Sweet Ben has loved, loved, loved being able to bike with the big kids.  I think he could literally peddle around down there for hours.

Buddies

Last Saturday, when our family was down in Florence, I got a text from my friend Kim.  Her husband, Ben, works for Caterpillar here in Bologna, and over the past two years, they have become dear, dear friends. We have so much in common and just really enjoy them.  Their friendship has been a real gift of FUN for our family.  An especially sweet gift has been their almost six-year-old son Drew.  He and Gavin hit it off from the beginning and have loved doing together all things boys love doing.

So Kim texted on Saturday to ask us to pray for Drew, who had broken his arm really badly.  They had gone to one hospital and were on their way via ambulance to another hospital.  The break was so bad they were going to have to do surgery. 

On Sunday when we got back to Bologna, we made a huge Get Well poster and put together a bag of goodies for Drew and went to see him.  It was our very first trip to an Italian hospital!  He had been transferred to the orthopedic hospital in town (the best in Italy), where there was a brand new pediatric wing.  First word was they would do surgery on Monday.  Monday came and the doctor determined his arm hadn't been put in the correct position.  They would have to reposition it and wait for the swelling to go down before they could operate.  

The surgery finally happened on Thursday.  As Drew killed time in the hospital waiting for surgery, Gavin was so concerned for him.  Almost every night he asked if we could go see him.  Visiting hours are very limited, so we could only go between 5:30 and 8pm.  We made a couple of trips before the surgery, I went and hung out with Kim and Ben during the surgery, and then we made a trip back on Friday, as soon as he was able to have visitors post-surgery.

Drew and Gavin in the play room at the hospital

Trying to help Drew learn to do a puzzle one-handed for awhile

There is a toy here popular among boys called BeyBlades.  They are kind of glorified tops (and available in the States too).  Drew had been wanting to get one, but ironically Kim told him he couldn't until he learned to ride his bike (how the accident happened that caused the broken bone!)  So on the first night we visited, Gavin had to bring one to him.  Gavin is obsessed with them, so it was one more thing these Buds could do together.  

To begin with, Gavin would hold the launcher and Drew would pull the rip cord to send it flying.  But then, as all boys would, they decided they had to battle each other (this is what BeyBlades do--they "battle"). 

After a week in a foreign hospital and surgery to insert three pins in a ugly broken bone, there were two normal boys battling BeyBlades.  What a joy!  Obviously, we are so, so grateful for this great friend God has provided for Gavin, but we it was just as much a blessing for us to see Gavin's tender heart expressed in wanting so much to be with Drew this week.  We treasured being able to help Gavin love on Drew.  And we treasured being able to love on Kim and Ben during the week too.  

God has (and is continuing) to build a great community for us.  We find ourselves with relationships in a multitude of different realms, and yet each meets such a different need in our lives.  It was just right this week to be able to really walk beside some of those who have become so dear to us here.

Valentine's Day

We had the most perfect, least-planned Valentine's Day ever.  We celebrated with the kids and enjoyed a low-key evening at home.  Of course there were flowers and chocolate, which makes every Valentine's Day perfect.  The flowers were for me (Jen) and the chocolate was for Cody.

How do say love with chocolate in Italy?  A chocolate salami, of course!

It's taken me three years to give this one a try.  It just seemed so. . . unnatural.  Wow, have we been missing out.  It was incredible!  Just like fudge.

It made for a very happy husband indeed. :)

Development and a Train Ride

Last week, I (Cody) spent seven days in Florence attending a course on church history.  It was taught by a professor (Dr. Hyatt) who has lived in Budapest, Hungary for the past 14 years, and Germany and Russia before that.  The course is part of Campus Crusade's on-going education program to help staff better minister in the field.  While this was a survey course that covered the end of the 1st century through the 20th, we spent a considerable amount of time looking at the Roman Catholic Church and how it has shaped the culture here over the past two millennia.  While I appreciated seeing how the development and growth of the church occurred, I enjoyed even more seeing the sovereignty of God as His mercy compels Him to save humanity.

On Saturday, Jen and the kids came to visit, which was a great delight...especially for Ben.  For the past few years, Ben's fascination with trains has grown into near fanaticism.  It has reached the point where he now recognizes the power wires above unseen tracks around town that provide the electricity for trains.  He has also memorized all the places in town where tracks run.  He knows the best places to stop and watch for them and is constantly on the lookout for them.  Ticket prices have risen dramatically over the past year, so we don't ride them very often anymore.  This weekend was the first time Ben had ridden one since we returned from furlough.  He was beside himself for the entire trip and actually cried when they had to get off.

Now that my class is over and students are finally returning to a normal schedule at the University (they had been studying for exams prior to now), we anxious to get back to day-to-day ministry.  Check out our updated prayer requests page to see how you can join us in praying for some specific ways we'd like to see God move in the coming months.

While in Assisi. . .

When I was in high school, I spent three weeks one summer traveling around Europe, singing in various churches with a choir.  One of the songs we sang was "The Prayer of St. Francis."

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury,pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console;

to be understood as to understand;

to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen

As a young believer, I was captured by the words.  Soon after joining the staff of Campus Crusade for Christ, I was re-introduced to St. Francis and became fascinated with his radical commitment to love as Christ.  Yes, there are some "interesting" aspects to his calling and ministry, but it is clear that his life was changed by the risen Christ.

St. Francis was from Assisi, Italy.  It is about an hour and half east/northeast of Rome.  Assisi is in the hills, and I've heard it's just beautiful.  Thousands and thousands flock to the small little village every year to visit the land where the Catholic Church's most popular saint was born and ministered.  I've wanted to visit since we arrived in Italy, but I've also known it probably wasn't a place my kids would enjoy much, so I hadn't had the chance.

Assisi

A couple of weeks ago, however, we had a conference just for missionary moms.  It was held about 15 minutes from Assisi.  So one afternoon I had the opportunity to spend a few hours exploring the town.  It was just as beautiful and quaint as I had been told.  My heart broke, however, when we visited the cathedral and monastery that stand in honor of St. Francis.

St. Francis Church and Monastery--it is set on the edge of a hill, overlooking a valley.  Beautiful.

As are most churches, it was filled with beautiful frescos.  These did not depict the life of Christ, however.  The central figure in each was St. Francis.  The architecture of the church is very unique, having two entirely separate places of worship under the floor of the main sanctuary.  Under those is yet another small chapel where over the altar is a sarcophagus thought to hold the bones of St. Francis.  Over the altar.  It is a sacred place for many--there was a plaque commemorating the pilgrimage Pope John Paul made during his papacy.  People have left photos of loved ones all over the stones that hold up the sarcophagus.  Obviously many come to this place expecting a spiritual experience of some kind--even a miracle.

I was shocked by the--dare I say this word--idolatry made of this man.  His bones set on an altar!  The frescos illuminate St. Francis, not Christ.  My heart was so burdened for all the people who come to this place looking for spiritual enlightenment and look to a man instead of the Maker of man.  What a huge distraction to seeing the One whom Francis wanted his life to point to in all ways.  I felt like God's glory had been stolen.

Assisi is a hilly town.  Lovely to look at, hard to navigate. :) On the highest hill remains a castle.

Please don't misunderstand my heart.  I was not filled with condescension.  Or judgment.  I was filled with all out compassion--the gut-wrenching, head-spinning, I-want-to-stand-up-and-shout kind of compassion.  I wanted everyone who had pilgrimaged to this little village in nowhere Italy to know that the spiritual experience they were after is available to them at any time, in any place.  The God of the Universe wants to interact with them in the most precious, personal, life-changing, miraculous ways.

God has changed my heart in countless ways in the past two and half years.  The love and compassion I feel for those I pass by every day can knock me off my feet.  My trip to Assisi changed me, and not in the way I was expecting.

And just so you know, I still think St. Francis was an incredible man of God.  He is still one of my heros of the faith.  He was willing to be absolutely radical because of the call God placed on his heart.  I want to be as willing.

*If you want to learn more about the life of St. Francis, G.K Chesterton wrote my favorite biography.  It's aptly titled Saint Francis of Assisi.