FINDING FLORENCE...

...and FINDING SABBATICAL 

OCTOBER 10, 2021

We both recently read a novel, Finding Francis, which follows the story of a man seeking peace in his role as a pastor. He journeys to Italy to visit an uncle, and discovers St. Francis of Assisi as a model of sorts. While we didn't quite make it to Assisi this visit, we have appreciated the many images and references to Francis over these weeks. It's amazing how his legacy of simplicity and joy has captured the global imagination over generations. It has taken awhile for us to settle into sabbatical and I think we've both recognized that the very idea is to receive these rhythms into our lives and welcome them, not just "do sabbatical" and then be done. So while we eye the end of our time in Europe, it's with hope that we will do some things differently. At breakfast today we talked about ways we might more fully appreciate God's gift of life by adopting slower more intentional patterns. Maybe we'll be using our bicycles for errands more often (kind of challenging as we head into Minnesota winter), look for a smaller home with more efficient use of space, and even find ways to weave bright spots of color into our monochrome wardrobes like the elegantly yet simply-dressed people of Florence. There's also the on-going desire to nurture humor and beauty in our lives. We had seen a piece about an artist in Florence who alters street signs- just a bit -to make whimsical and sometimes powerful statements. We'd forgotten about him until one day we started noticing the signs here and there. What joy to find hidden messages in the ubiquitous Italian street signs that sometimes confuse the eye with their abundance!

Our past couple of days we have re-visited some favorite spots like Piazza San Croce, where the people of Florence stage a re-enactment of a soccer/rugby/wrestling match each June on the feast of St. John the Baptist. It's called Calcio Storico (look it up!). They form neighborhood teams of 27 men in traditional costume, cover the piazza with sand, set up nets and compete for the city title much like they did hundreds of years ago. It's been fun to imagine. We visited Piazza Santa Maria Novella, where the copy of the Michelangelo's David stands in all his naked glory. 

While we've seen places of ancient magnificence, we've also seen evidence of painful destruction. Scars from WW II and the burning of the Jewish ghetto where the neighborhood has still not recovered, marks from a 1993 Mafia car bomb which killed 6 people and damaged 100's of pieces of historical artwork in the Uffizzi, and waterlines from the last catastrophic flood when the Arno swelled to historic levels in 1966. These are events to remember and learn from, as well. 

We went again to cross the beautiful bridges and watch the crew boats and barchetti (the old traditional punted boats) pass underneath us. On the Trinita bridge we met a professional photographer from Mexico who lives in France, named Daniel. Tim admired his old Hasselblad camera and that opened the way for a long conversation about Florence, photography, travel, life. He was waiting for just the right angle of sunlight to capture some images of the skyscape. To relax into those kind of exchanges people need time. It's been such a blessing to have time here. I mean TIME! We haven't had to hurry anywhere for weeks.

We pray for each of you, our family and friends, that you receive time and what's needed in your lives and recognize the peace available in the rhythms of grace in Christ. 

Pax Christi!

ADDENDUM:

As some of you are aware, things took an unexpected and challenging turn on Sunday. It was to be our last full day in Florence. After Cyd wrote the paragraphs above, we had cool, spotty sunshine, so we took a bus up to Piazzale Michelangelo, a high point overlooking the city from the south. We were simply going to rest in the beauty of this place where we've been for the past week plus. 

While we were there Cyd said she wasn't feeling well at all. Soon afterward, I called an ambulance and they took us to a downtown hospital, Cyd in the back and I was in the front with the driver. The hospital is Santa Maria Nuova. Despite "Nuova" in its name, apparently it's the oldest hospital in all of Italy and is badly in need of upgrading in multiple ways. Due to Covid restrictions, of course, I couldn't go in with her and haven't been able to be with her at all. We've relied on phone calls and a lot of texts. 

The upshot is that that her cardiac enzymes were elevated, they did some tests and are doing some more. Now, about 24 hours later (and as I write this) they've finally taken her to a different hospital for some additional heart procedures. I will find out later this evening what was done and what our next steps are.

Very few people around her speak English and they have not had a medical interpreter on hand. I can only imagine how unsettling and stress-filled it must be to be hospitalized, to be unsure about exactly what is happening next, and to be unable to communicate clearly.

This is obviously a very hard twist of things right at the very end of a truly blessed, wonderful six weeks in Europe. I've been amazed again and again at the miles walked, the stairways climbed, the sights seen...and the intrepid, adventurous spirit of this one whom I love with my whole heart. This journey has been filled with grace! How this last part factors into grace, however, I cannot yet fathom.

Our flights back to the US are cancelled until we learn when Cyd can safely fly. I've made other temporary lodging arrangements, cobbling together a variety of things. And we wait. And we pray. Please pray along with us!