by request.

(This is for you, Mexico crew) Last night I went on an adventure. This was no typical adventure (well, at least for an almost-21-year-old American young person). Along with fifteen other hungry and anxious-to-do-something-wonderful mismatched persons, I drove to Singen. Upon arrival, we bypassed all of the Fausnacht parties, and went straight the local's favorite coffee house - McDonalds. We then spent four hours in the colorful and exciting (as many strange Fausnacht characters came in to get their cappuccino and cheeseburger...including three clowns and a band of lionesses...rawr) lobby of the restaurant. Over coffees and icecream, we talked and played and enjoyed being done with finals. The conversations ranged from unfinished papers to spring break plans (I will most likely be spending the break in Spain and hopefully Portugal)to home life. After a few hours of relatively quiet activities, we decided to partake in the old youth group favorite - Mafia. I had absolutely no idea that this game was international. However, the later it got...the more graphic the stories of killing became. Our group became progressively louder and louder, and soon had the attention of most of the restaurant (who probably thought we were having some strange sort of worship service). It was really a hoot. Well. That is really all that happened on the adventure. After four hours of laughing, playing and talking (and eating scrumptious foods), we drove through the windy-woodsy roads and came home. It was a lovely night. I hope your travels were safe today. Please wave hello to the streetlight, eat lots of quesotacos and hug all of my friends for me. Oh, and I'd very much like a bolie. Thank you.

candy hearts.

This was the first year that I can remember not eating a single candy heart on Valentine's day. Typically, my February diet consists mainly of sweet caffeinated beverages, chocolate (in many shapes and sizes) and yellow candy hearts. (I am partial to the yellow ones, although I will have an orange here and there.In my personal opinion, there are not really any other colors worth my time). This Valentine's day was different. Although chocolate and sweets were not hard to find, I never came across a candy heart. I tried to get over this sad reality, as there were many other things to enjoy. This week, however, I was very pleasantly surprised when I received a delightful little envelope in my usually quite uninhabited mailbox (I do love letters, send me one if you like...). This envelope was from a very special someone, and had inside a curious green dusting over each little paper. At first, I was quite confused. I soon remembered that he had a mentioned a candy heart that he had found just for me. I smiled as I realized that the green dust was the one and only candy heart that I had encountered this February season. In fact, I was so excited that I carefully collected the green dust into a small jar and set it next to Ella - my flower-plant (who is doing quite well these days, despite cold weather and an over-protective mother). I wake up every morning to my little jar of fairy dust, and smile. I am not really sad that I didn't get to eat it, because I don't care for the green kind anyway. This post may be considered quite un-inspirational to some, but then (again) they've never had the boy they love send them a candy heart from across the sea. Just a little thought, and a lot of love from a girl who can't stop thinking about you. Have a nice day.

it's simple.

Jesus is the answer. for the world today. Above Him there's no other. Jesus is the way. It is funny how often I forget.

frames.

I really love frames. I love the way they hold a beautiful moment, the face of a loved one. I love the way they turn a very plain wall into a memory book, a littered counter into a familiar space. I have seven frames with me in Switzerland, all of which I carried in my luggage. Each frame holds a moment, a face, a scene. They are spread around my little attic room, and bring life and color to the simple desk, night stand and dresser. The little frames are a comfort. They are a reminder of those I love, the ones who mean the most to me. They are a reminder to pray for small friends with big mountains, and for family members who are experiencing life far from me. There are some that hold photos of far-off places, places where I have learned what it means to live, to minister, and to love. There is one that holds hands with a clock, and in this one my sister sits. Her pretty face, and ticking partner remind me that this time is temporary. It is not forever. I will see her soon, and so I should have many adventures before my time has gone. The one just to the right of that holds two faces who are an inspiration. I am very thankful for their guidance, encouragement and love over the years. Their faithful witness has been a blessing in my life. There is another frame just beyond the two. It holds a moment that I cherish, a moment in the summer-time when the sun was just rising. The boy in the frame has become really, very special to me and I laugh when I think of how far we've come from that bus on the hill. I am confident that there are moments I am experiencing right now that will very soon be framed upon my windowsill at home. I'd like to think that I will never be far from the people I love, from the new and wonderful friends that I am making. But in three short months, my time here will be done and I will return home to the people that I love there. My friends, my experiences, the moments I have loved will soon be framed and set up around my new home. It's hard for a heart so easily given to leave those that she loves. It's hard to live a big life, a life that is so full of love and desires culture and experiences. It's a challenge. And it has become a calling. I am content to live my life in a big way, and to never stop making the moments, and loving the faces. I will live and love and learn. I will treasure each and every frame that makes its place in my life.

ella, the yellow flower-plant.

well, hello. It's been too long since I last made an entry. Do forgive me, I am just learning. This week has been full of classes, presentations, homework and study. EuNC runs on an intensive session schedule, as opposed to the semester schedule that I am quite accustomed to back home. It has been a challenge, but I am so enjoying this experience. I do admit that I wasn't really looking forward to Valentine's day, as it was quite hard to be away from the boy that I love. However, I decided to make the most. Friday night was wonderful. We had a lovely party to celebrate the delightful week of secret valentines. All were revealed, and I found out that a certain little lady named Marta had been passing me gifts through my mailbox all week long. I was enchanted. She did a perfect job of making me feel special. She even delivered a yellow flower-plant on Thursday. I named her Ella, and she is doing quite well living on my window-sill. I water her every day, and she lifts my spirits when the world feels sort of lonesome. Saturday was filled with homework, a long run and a walk through the woods with some of my new-found friends. Last night, I made cupcakes and crepes and we sat around with jars of jelly and nutella and enjoyed a delicious feast. Some of us took a drive to Singen (a neighboring town about thirty minutes by car) and got coffee late last night. It was an adventure to be sure. Although we were disoriented for quite some time on the way home, I would say that the trip was a smashing success. I am thankful for today. A quiet day to rest and do homework and enjoy the simple things. I am blessed by the realization that (one of) the most dreaded weekends "away from home" is past - and that my heart is very well intact. Although there were hard moments, He never left me alone. I was comforted by wonderful new friends, and warm crepes with nutella (my new favorite spread). I have high hopes for my birthday. Thank you for thinking of me, and for talking with Him on my behalf. I love you all very, very much.

ten things.

ten things I love about this place. 1.My third floor, attic bedroom. I share it with the most wonderful lady. It is spacious, with a slippery floor perfect for sock-dancing. The floor is cold in the morning, so I find myself skipping to the small bathroom where my hot shower awaits every morning. I love our window. It is big, and opens all the way. We have a view of the neighboring pastures and the enchanted forest over the hill. We look forward to warm, starry nights in the spring - when we will hang out our window and wave hello to the moon. 2. Coffee break. It happens twice a day, everyday. The entire campus stops, and takes a deep breath. Classes are built around, and meetings are postponed. Everyone takes the opportunity to sit together in our lovely little dining hall, eat delicious baked goods and sip coffee from tea cups. We talk about things like politics, theology and those places we call home. Coffee time is really the most delightful of times, and I look forward to it everyday. 3. Trains. There are lots of trains in Europe. Local trams that carry grandmothers to the grocery store, and other trains that run to far-off, exotic places like Bucharest and Amsterdam. I love traveling on the train. I enjoy watching people, and walking up and down the long cars and watching the German countryside pass me by. The other day I rode a train with an entire flock of seven-year-old girl scouts who were on their way to a fantastic tobogganing adventure in the Alps. I smiled at their silly antics and toothless grins. They were very excited, and I found it rather nice. 4. Quiet. I am learning how to be quiet here. It is a very hard lesson for a girl who loves words. However, I find myself content to be silent more often - and to listen to the ones around me. There are many things I can learn from quiet. I can learn to be honest with myself, and to let peace in. I can learn to listen to His voice, and to regulate my breathing. I can learn to be still, and to have that be okay. There is a swingset behind my building. It's a very good place to practice quiet. It may be built for children, but in some ways, I still am. And that's okay. 5. Our small numbers form a very tiny and beautiful community in this place. For such a little space, we have our fair share of diversity. I am learning to cook Italian pasta. (And I am getting quite good.) I am practicing my Spanish, and learning to use German washing machines. I go for walks with a girl from Denmark, and we talk about prejudice, social injustice and how much we miss our baby sisters. I discuss life and church history and current events with my professors and faculty over coffee and chocolate wafers. We truly are a family. We eat together (at beautiful tables set with real dishes), and play together (spoons and ping pong and awkward get-to-know-you games), and pray together on a daily basis. I am blessed to be a part of this community, and to be in relationship with some of the most incredible people. 6. There is a river here. You may or may not have heard. There are boats and docks and a lovely trail that runs from my village, all the way to Schaffhausen. There are ducks with mullets, and swans that are almost as tall as me. There is a bridge that reminds me of another that I know, and lots of benches to sit and wait and watch. I've heard that the river is best to visit in the Spring, but I really love it now. It's big and strong and always changing. It's ferociously cold, but fishermen still venture. It's dark and deep, yet still invites it's feathered friends to gather and play. It sings a winter-song, and I know that I will miss it when the warm-time comes. So, for now. I will cherish the moments I have. 7. There is a little gym in the building across the courtyard. To many, this doesn't sound quite thrilling. However, I have found that in times of sadness - in those home and heart-sick times - the little gym is a place of solace. I have learned the importance of stretching and running and working hard to put away the bad feelings. It has been a place to cry, a place to sit, a place to think and pray. The best part of the little gym is that each beautiful little window opens. So at the end of a long, hard run - I walk over to my favorite window (the one by the swirly mirror) and I throw it open. I invite the cold wind and remember again that I must be brave. 8. Every week, I spend four hours working in this little community. The job that I have been assigned is to spend one hour each day in the kitchen after the meal is finished, and everyone has gone their separate ways. While in the kitchen, I dry the steaming hot dishes, and put them back neatly in their homes. My favorite part of the kitchen are my new friends. Judy and Hilda. They are the loveliest of people. We communicate in a mixture of English and German and a universal understanding that women share in a kitchen. They are funny and witty, sweet and encouraging. They are wise and honest, talented and humble. I love them. Really, to understand how wonderful they are, you might just have to meet them. And, to be sure, Hilda will make you a nice bratwurst if you make the journey. 9. I love morning-time in Busingen. We leave our blinds open, in order to let the sun say good morning every day. We wake to a chorus of alarms - loud, obnoxious beeping coming from almost every room on the hall. We shower, dress and then find our way to the kitchen - where we will most likely sit to long chatting over breakfast, and then have to run to our classes or meetings or trips to the market. Morning-time is wonderful here. Everyone is busy, running to and fro. The hours spent before coffee time are productive and efficient. You might find me on a walk with Signe, pouring over Wesley books in the library, or sitting under the big tree. Usually, the sun comes out to say hello before the noon-time lunch bell rings. It marks the end of my favorite part of the day, but there is always the next. The great thing about life is that even when there is a night, a morning will always follow. 10. It isn't easy to be away. It isn't easy to miss my sister, and to wish that I could see her on stage next week. It isn't easy to be away from my mom and dad when I don't feel good, or when growing up is just too hard to do. It isn't easy to be away from the boy I love, and to miss him each and every moment. It isn't easy to be away from friends and roommates who are experiencing life - the hard times and the most exciting of new adventures. It isn't easy to be content with only pictures and hopes for a lovely reunion in May. It isn't easy to take new classes, with new teachers and to not worry about my scores. It isn't easy to trust Jesus with each and every person that I love. It isn't easy. However, it is so good. It is good to learn and grow and make new friends. It is good to listen, and to stretch. It is good to experience heart-aches, because they only mean that I love deeply and am deeply loved. It is good. This is good. I am thankful. There are many more things that capture my heart in this place. Things like cobblestone streets, long walks in the pastures and the beautiful church on the hill. I am finding it much easier to be comfortable in this place, nomatter its temporary position in my life. I am choosing to be brave. I am choosing to love hard. And I am finding it quite easy to call here, home. And home is the very best place to be.

oh, today.

Day sixteen. The snow is falling, the ground is covered quite nicely. I am safe and warm in my little attic room. This weekend has been a whirlwind of adventures. Day fourteen has come and gone, and so has the horrible case of heart-sick, home-sick blues. Day fifteen was really an adventure. I spent the whole day in Munich, Germany. The thing is, they really love clocks in Munich. They also love traditional German costumes, exotic fruit markets, inexpensive cappuccinos and spicy bratwursts. I visited a Bavarian palace, and got lost in its rather large backyard. Munich was a lovely city, and I enjoyed every minute. I tried new things, and took opportunities to find adventure. I was brave; I even walked on a frozen river. Those are goals of mine, so I am quite satisfied with day fifteen. Today. Today I am thankful for this place. For these people, and the way they have found a place in my ever-widening heart. I am thankful for the challenge of hard classes, and for beautiful trails to run when I need fresh air. I am thankful for the quiet. For the slow and deliberate. For the structure and methodical lifestyle. I am thankful for the river and the way the snow sits on the leaves. I am learning. I am stretching. I am growing, and I am being made new. It's really lovely to be here, now. I am quite sure it is exactly where He wants me. I wish all of you a happy day sixteen. Wherever you are, I hope you are content. It's really the most wonderful way to be. Peace, please.

should have, would have

Today I went to the church. We meet downstairs in my building in a little chapel of sorts. The services are always small and quaint. Today, one of the professors preached and it was convicting. He read from Matthew eight, where Matthew mentions two would-be disciples who offered themselves... but did not let go of their own agendas. One claimed to follow Jesus wherever He went, but did not realize the cost. The other told Jesus bluntly that he would be willing just as soon as the things in his life were taken care of. He wasn't trying to be disrespectful, he just wanted to tend to his earthly responsibilities. Far too often, I am a would-be disciple. I always have the best of intentions and motives and hopes. But, in reality I have not counted the cost. Sometimes following Jesus means stumbling around almost barefoot through mud and rocks and thistles. Sometimes following Jesus means not having a safe place to stay or the security of family. Sometimes following Jesus means leaving behind things that seem really important. Doing things that don't make any since at all. Being challenged, and struggling. Sometimes it hurts. I hope that I can truly learn to be a disciple. I hope that we can be disciples together. I hope that I can learn to trust. Today was like a breath of fresh air. Snow falling. A long walk. Baking cookies. Successfully finishing assignments. Good conversation and fellowship. Homemade pasta. Warm bed. However. I can feel my heart being pulled. Prodded. Shaped and molded. And I feel like I'm not ready. Like there's something to be done before the change. I am confident, however, that God uses those caught-off-guard moments to do His best work. To get to the core of the issue to touch the heart to break the spirit only so that they can be made new. I won't come back the same girl. I hope that's okay with you. It always seems to happen that way.