Our family had the privilege of bringing in the New Year in a very old place: Rome. These are some of my favorite pictures from the time in Italy.

After three lovely days in Pescara for GCE's Awaken conference, we took some time for our family to enjoy the old Caput Mundi. Our kids enjoyed themselves, but I found it challenging to impress upon them how remarkable it was that we were walking around in the cradle of Western civilization where some of the earliest foundations of the Christian faith were laid and where Caesars and popes have ruled throughout the centuries. I don't know how much we succeeded in getting them to appreciate the glory and grandeur of Rome, but I sure enjoyed it. The sense of history is palpable in Rome, yet it also remains a thriving urban center today in 2012. It was a very unique setting for the New Year's holiday (with an extra bonus of sun and mild temperatures during our visit, as well!).

During our time in Rome, I was impressed with the words of Psalm 31:14-15, where it says, "But I trust in you, LORD; I say, 'You are my God.' My times are in your hands."

This is my hope and prayer for 2012: that I will grow in trusting God and walking by faith, content in the knowledge that my times (as turbulent and chaotic as they may often seem) are in God's hands. I don't think I'm going to make any other resolutions this year except for an actualization of Psalm 31:14-15.

But now we are all strangers and pilgrims, travelers and Sojourners.

This is the inscription on the plaque which marks the square where "the Pilgrims" (of American Thanksgiving  fame) lived for the twelve years immediately preceding their journey to the New World aboard the Mayflower. Although these Pilgrims were of English descent, several of the younger ones were born here in the Netherlands. Several of the couples were married here in the Netherlands. And a number of their group died and were buried here in the Netherlands.

I didn't always realize the Dutch connections to the American Thanksgiving story -- but it's actually a pretty significant part of the story. After experiencing religious persecution in England for their anti-Anglican, Reformed theology, a community of these "Separatists" decided to move to Leiden, in the Netherlands, under the leadership of their pastor John Robinson. There they were granted religious freedom and opportunities for economic stability (through the booming textile industry of the period), and eventually they established a commune of sorts on this square in the shadow of the big Pieterskerk (Peter's Church) in central Leiden. For twelve years, they lived and worked in the Netherlands -- until they started to fear that their children were getting too assimilated into the surrounding culture, and they ultimately decided to send all of the able-bodied members of their community on to North America, where greater freedom, greater isolation, and greater economic opportunities awaited them.

But the Pilgrims certainly left their mark on Leiden. And Leiden -- it would seem -- left its mark on the Pilgrims, too. Most intriguingly, historical records indicate that the Pilgrims greatly admired the Leidenaars annual religious / civic holiday, along with its traditional feasting, designed specifically for the purpose of thanking God for His deliverance of the Dutch against their Spanish oppressors in the Eighty Years War (celebrated every year in October). Some historians have even theorized that the early Thanksgiving feasts in New England may have been inspired by the Pilgrims' time in Leiden! I honestly don't know how much stock to put in these theories, but they are certainly interesting to consider...

In any event, our family was privileged to visit Leiden on Thanksgiving Day this year (the kids were even granted the day off from school!). We went together with several American friends from Amsterdam, and we all joined in a larger celebration put on by the American Embassy in the Netherlands. The service itself was all right (a kind of typical patriotic / pseudo-religious, ecumenical church service)... But more than anything it was just cool to be in that place, together with a group of other "strangers and pilgrims, travelers and sojourners."

It's ironic that we now live here in the Netherlands, having moved from North America seeking to establish a spiritual community: kind of Pilgrims in reverse (although our goal has always been to engage with the surrounding culture, not to separate from it). But to say the least, we felt a special appreciation this year for the connection between the Netherlands and the United States of America, on Thanksgiving Day.

And after our visit to the Pieterskerk, of course we had to go out to lunch. We had Dutch pancakes instead of a big turkey dinner. But that was OK. When you're strangers and pilgrims, travelers and sojourners, improvisation is always a part of the story. :-)

Why don't I take personal retreats more often? Such an experience -- like the one I just experienced at the Benedictusberg -- inspires me and renews my love for life and ministry. It provides priceless perspective and spiritual refreshment. And at just €30 a day (for three lavish meals per day, three coffee-and-snack breaks per day, my own private room, plus access to the monastery's sanctuary, library, and grounds!), such extravagance is really quite affordable.

Ever since getting back to Amsterdam, I've been encouraging my friends to consider taking personal retreats of their own. I know it takes some work to set the time aside and break out of our normal routines for such an experience (I, too, regularly feel the resistance -- even knowing how great such experiences can be!). Even so, I cannot more highly recommend a regular discipline of seeking special encounters with God!

Even though a personal retreat is, by definition, somewhat "mystical," I thought it might be useful to demystify the idea of a spiritual retreat (i.e. answering the question, "What exactly am I supposed to be doing with three whole days of being away from regular life, seeking God?"). This is the approach that I mapped out for myself, on this most recent retreat. It can be adapted to fit individual tastes and personalities (in fact, I myself reviewed and refined my own plan on the train ride down from Amsterdam to the borderlands between the Netherlands, Germany, and Belgium). Still, I went into my personal retreat with a handful of general goals in mind:

• To read through all my old journals. My collection goes back to 1999, so there's some significant ground to cover there, but I felt it was important for me to do this. As I read through the old journals, I looked for trends, scriptural inspiration points, and spiritual inkshuks through the years. I tried to get a feel for the overall arc of my life story, with the hope that this might help me to anticipate and follow any upcoming plot twists.
• To take long, meandering walks (international walks, even, in the case of this most recent retreat!). I wanted to soak the styrofoam cup of my soul in the oceans of God's presence.  I wanted to trade my anxieties, arguments, and emotional architecture for God's mind about me, the family, my church, and the world. I wanted to experience God's peace, even in the face of any disturbing, unsettling, unexpected truths that might be revealed in my life. I wanted to sync my spirit with God's Spirit.
• To re-read some of my "core material" from the Bible. For each individual, there seems to be certain sections of the Bible which regularly and repeatedly speak into that person's life through the years. For me, this "core material" includes Joshua, the Proverbs, Matthew, Acts, Romans... and maybe some of the other Old Testament history books. So going into my personal retreat, I determined to spend some time reading these parts of the Bible and letting myself be led down rabbit-trails of cross-references, as God would lead. I wanted to be inspired.
• To experience (however temporarily) the monastic life. Believe it or not, I was actually looking forward to spartan surroundings, early morning prayers, and a general atmosphere of silence and simplicity. I did have some anxieties about being in such a Catholic environment and adhering to such a right schedule (particularly worried that it might get in the way of my opportunities to go on long walks or spend extended time in solitude)... But even so, I wanted to go through the motions of monasticism. I sensed that it might be surprisingly refreshing... and indeed this sense turned out to be accurate.

Of course, in all this I realized that it was much less important to consider what I wanted out of these three days, as opposed to preparing myself for however God might have wanted to use the time. Still I felt that it was helpful to outline some expectations ahead of time -- and then submit them all, respectfully, to God.

I can understand that the monastic experience is probably not for everybody -- and maybe even not always what I would need for my own spiritual refreshment, depending upon the season of life -- but I have to say that it was quite satisfying for me this week. The prayer services provided me with time for reading the Bible and getting fresh input from outside my normal stream of consciousness. The shorter breaks between services provided me with time for personal processing (even while eating) and journaling (including reading old journals). The longer breaks between the services, especially in the late afternoon, provided time for long walks and prayer (I always seem to pray best when I'm walking). And the breaks between sunset and dawn provided time for more extended journaling and analysis of my journal archives, which are a kind of prayer and meditation for me. All of these activities felt like they were infused with a sense of prayer and meditating on God's Word, which is just what I really wanted for my three-day getaway: an extended soak in God's goodness and nearness.

In case you couldn't tell, I came back to Amsterdam with a rich feeling of satisfaction and gratitude -- and a hearfelt recommendation for others to experience the same.

Don't think too much about your answer.

Just go with your gut feeling: What name would you give to the color above? Or to the grid of variations in color here below?

To me, the color swatches above seem yellow. But that might just be me. Or it might just be Americans. I'd be especially curious to know what Dutch people think of these colors -- if they would also naturally trend towards "yellow" or possibly more towards "orange."

All of these colors are lifted from photographs of traffic lights, both in the United States and in the Netherlands. I used Photoshop to select a sampling of color from the brightest, most intense part of photograph featuring a traffic light with the middle segment of the signal illuminated, and that's how I generated the swatches above.

So the reason I ask the question about identifying this color is that I'm intrigued by the cultural differences on this particular point. Americans talk about this part of the traffic light as being the "yellow light," whereas Dutch people (or my American children, raised here in the Netherlands) talk about the same segment as being the "orange light" (oranje licht).

Honestly, I don't think of it as a question of accuracy but rather of perception. I just think it's interesting that the two cultures see it two different ways. It's true for a lot of different elements of culture, not just the color of traffic lights.

So what color would you say it is? Yellow? Orange? Or something else entirely?

Garrison Keillor once articulated the Midwestern attitude towards traveling in a pretty accurate and effective way. In speaking of his fictional home in Lake Wobegon, he said, "People take a dim view of extravagance in Lake Wobegon, and to travel someplace where you do not have relatives to stay over with is frowned on by most. You can travel off someplace for your niece's wedding or your aunt's funeral, but just to higgeldy-piggeldy go off to some foreign country just to see it, I mean, that's what you subsribe to the National Geographic for."

My Midwestern mindset has been modified through the years of living in Europe, still there's a part of me that somewhat struggles with the seeming extravagance of international travel. But fortunately our family was recently able to take a trip to England, while faithfully adhering to the old Midwestern values of visiting friends (and Midwestern friends, no less!) along the way. From our days at Bowling Green State University, Marci and I have been able to maintain contact with friends who now live in both London and in Sheffield. So when the kids' Fall Break came along this year, we rather spontaneously decided to travel to England... and it ended up being a great experience.

We saw some great historical sites (typical for England).

We enjoyed some great weather (unusual for England).

And we appreciated the opportunity to interact with some great people, who bridged the best that both England and Ohio have to offer.

Some of our family's favorite experiences were the ferry from Hoek van Holland to Harwich and an unexpected opportunity to go punting on the Cam in Cambridge...

But really, each of the experiences we had -- including disappointments, like missing the evening choral performance at King's College in Cambridge by just 30 seconds -- were memorable in their own way. The only thing that truly disappointed me was that I never really got to hear anyone say, "Tally-ho," or "Bally-hoo" or "Cherrio."

As much fun as we had on our trip, it was also the exciting, exhausting sort of vacation -- not so much the restful, refreshing sort. So it's also nice to be back in Amsterdam now. But we'll always have fond memories of England.

(In case you'd like to see more pictures from our time in England, there are more posted in the Family Pictures section of our website.)