Gene Kelly Was Here

I am a thief. At least, that’s what my friends who were in my cell group in college call me. Their accusation stems from an incident in the Spring of 2006 when in the midst of room hopping late at night in the student center so as to avoid the eyes of the security guard,…

“Yes, Elijah, but what exactly are you doing in Paris? Your pretty little vignettes about Bastille Day and climbing the tower at Notre Dame are nice and all, but surely you are not there to sight-see and party? Surely, Fuller requires more academic rigor than that of their Intercultural Studies students.” You are correct, my…

Suddenly they were everywhere in their something borrowed, something blues and wedding dress whites walking down the sidewalks and peering in windows as if they belonged. They were all so new, and yet, so old, as if when they slipped their feet into their shiny shoes they stepped into a tradition and practice as deep…

Part of my work with La Fonderie these six weeks involves me being available to do whatever they need done. So far, I’ve mopped floors, washed dishes, created PowerPoint presentations, taught iMovie, staffed a microfinance conference, and opened and closed the building for a church that rents the space on Sunday afternoons. I’m also delivering…

They adopted a son, and then they adopted a country. André and Nicky Orluc adopted their son Nathan from Ethiopia when he was four years old. Of the journey before they picked him up at the airport – the mountains of paperwork, the swamps of bureaucracy – I do not know, but of the adventure…

A few months ago at the prompting of my friend Ruth, I fashioned a phone case out of an old Bible. I hollowed out the pages of the pocket-sized scriptures in a way that enabled me to couch my iPhone inside. When closed, it simply resembled a book. When open, the iPhone could be used…

Night was falling on Paris, and I climbed to the top of a high tower to try to hold the daylight up. I could not. The night was too heavy, too intent on shrouding the earth. I raised my arms like Moses to bless the day’s battle, but I had no Aaron, no Joshua to…

“Hai,” he said switching effortlessly from flawless French to his natural Kiwi-flavored English, “It’s guud ta meet ya. Welcam to Paaris.” Richard was a tall man, broad, with black and grey hair falling in messy curls around his ears and neck and brushing the collar of his shirt. He wore his crumpled, white dress shirt…

England was a womb. I gestated there for a couple of days before boarding the birth train, riding it through a long, narrow tunnel surrounded by water, and finally emerging into  a world of strange people and strange places, welcomed only by a couple of people who’s voices I had heard muffled in emails over…

A couple of weeks before leaving for Paris, my girlfriend broke up with me. I’m fine. I’d been feeling it for about a month and a half, so it’s no big deal. My friends, attempting to alleviate with humor and forward thinking any pain I might have been feeling from being dumped, alternately told me…