still, small voice

tuesdays are long days. i have class from 8 until 5 pm (right now, i am skipping chapel). yet, i enjoy tuesdays.


at 8:00 am, i meet with my peer group. the leader, jen, is a senior student and my fellow group members are all junior students. we meet for an hour and simply talk about how seminary is going for us. today we talked about vocation and call, God's presence, what God's voice sounds like.


i realized that to me, God's voice sounds like my grandpa hoogendoorn. he's a small man, shorter than me, wearing pants that have outgrown him as his body gets smaller and older. his wisdom, to me, seems to have no bounds. i love having conversation with him - asking him questions, hearing his history and experiences through my own lenses, but letting his knowledge expand them.


grandpa sees the world through world war II eyes. he grew up in the netherlands, the son of a pastor. the war hit. he was in hiding for two years. his brother was in a concentration camp. he had fake papers and lived the life you only read about it books. he raised pigeons but was forced to give them up by the nazi's. his stories, and i only know a few, never cease to raise the hair on my neck.


his faith seems unshakable. i can remember my dad telling me that even though grandpa does not agree with women in ministry, when his church decided to let women into office, grandpa did not fight it because he saw it was for the good of the church. he supports my decision to go to seminary.


whenever i have the opportunity to talk to grandpa on the phone, he asks me if i have a man. i give my answer and he says "well, just as long as your remember i am the most important man in your life." It makes me smile no matter what my mood.


it makes me sad i only get to see him every couple years. grandpa cannot leave canada because of his heart and the canadian insurance system.


someone once told me, after looking at a picture of grandpa, and he is a stud. i have to agree.


and he's also the image and voice of God for me.