Meet Farley

Meet Farley.

He's my older sister's Westie.  He used to look like this:

As you might be able to tell, he's filled in nicely.  Every time I come to visit my sister, it's a joy to see him.  She's trained him well and he has turned into quite the snuggly little dog.  When I first met him, he definitely tried to attack my face...and bite off A's nose: 

He was quite the little rascal in his puppy days.

But he also had his cute moments: 

He's turned into quite the happy content little dog.  And all he wants is to go outside and play with his next door neighbor doggie friends.

Good ol' Farley.  You're fun to play with...and provide hours of amusement.

I guess I can say that I like having you around...as long as Miss Molly's not there....

(Molly right and Farley left)

Because, in all honesty, when she's around, I have a loyalty to her.  She'll be my favorite.  Sorry.

(Molly left, Farley right)

Miss Molly

german chocolate amazingness

Today was relatively uneventful.  I spent the morning and part of the afternoon reading A Lineage of Grace by Francine Rivers.  It was good to have down-time and read this morning about Tamar.  At the end of the chapter, there are some really good discussion questions.  Since I was supposed to be "working", I didn't spend the reflection time I need to fully grasp some of the contents.  I then moved onto Rahab.  Through reading about these women in Christ's lineage, I am amazed at how we (read I) try to be so perfect and put on this face of how we (read I) have it all together.

Reality check: both Tamar and Rahab didn't know God, but knew of Him.  When they had started to follow Him, it was more of a feeling of accepting that He has to be the true God.  These Canaanite women didn't follow the pagan gods their families and friends did...they knew better.  These women are not perfect.  Tamar had to dress like a temple prostitute to seduce her late husband's father, Judah, in order to have a right to an heir that he had previously refused her through abandonment.  Rahab was taken the temple when she was a young girl for the pleasures of the king.  When the king grew tired of her, she had no other choice but to make a life of prostitution for herself.  She hides the Israelite spies from the guards and king...and helps the Israelites defeat Jericho and claim the land God had given them.

Prostitution. Seduction.

But they kept their faith.

These women had faith in something that they couldn't be sure of, but somehow knew it had to be truth.  Through all of their different hardships, they looked to an unseen God for help.  They didn't know this God well, but yet their willingness to serve an unseen God created righteousness in their lives.

God has used sinners all throughout time.  He had women like Tamar and Rahab in the lineage of Christ.  Jesus hung out with tax collectors. And then there's me - a sinner saved by grace.  Oh, how I don't even deserve it!

---Awkward Transition---

I was able to read all morning...and that was great.  I got to help some students create resumes this afternoon.  That is something that I enjoy - teaching.  Hmmm.  Interesting.  That might be another blog post to come soon.  Crazy stuff.  Anywho, I went to dinner with my boss and another lady who came up to help the Academy from TTI.  After dinner, my boss and I made our way to a local custard joint.  I had specifically saved room for this and definitely didn't overdo it at dinner for that reason.  For those of you familiar with CS, this place had way more selection than Shake's.  And, I'm pretty sure that it tasted better too.  Sorry, just being honest here.

My German chocolate concrete: chocolate custard with butterscotch, coconut, and pecans.  

I probably shouldn't have wasted the calories on this dessert.  So I'll just claim that I'm on vacation and it doesn't count.  Yup, I just did that.  

Tomorrow is the last day of the last session of the TCCA, the project for which I was hired to assist.  It's crazy how fast time has gone by.  It's already the end-ish of February...and April is approaching quickly.  It's definitely time to get serious about job searching again.  I have been, but I really need to hunker down, revise the resume, and network all over again.  My time at TTI is coming to a close.  And I'm not thinking I'm going to miss it.  More on this dilemma later...

Have a happy friday, all!

Taking Residence at the Marriott

This week, I am traveling to Ft. Worth to help my boss with her construction academy.  When she asked me to join her last week, I was so stinking excited!  I got to travel with her last October, and it just feels about time to get away and have some alone time.  The last several days, I've been very content to just be by myself.  To some, I look anti-social.  But it's what we introverted extroverts have to do sometimes.  Being around my roommates and our frequent visitors like Sarah and Johan, Leslie S, Anhela, Joann, Cyna, and Val (just to name a few) is quite life-giving.  I enjoy our Shalom Shack hang out nights.  They are always great.  But as for me and my sanity, sometimes it's just good to get away.  


So, this is the reasoning behind me being so psyched about having my own HUGE hotel suite to myself.  I think it's so awesome that I really want to show you what it looks like.  When I first walked in, my mouth fell open to the floor. I was in complete awe.  

The living room, complete with a desk, complimentary internet access, a pull-out sofa, a chair, and a tv.

The kitchen.  That's right...I have my own full-size fridge, sink, microwave, toaster, 2-burner stove AND a dishwasher.  If only I had any food to cook.  My grandmother did help me out with an apple and some crackers after dinner tonight.  She's so sweet :)

The bedroom.  It has a tv to the right of the door.  So that means I have 2 tvs for one person.  Now how do I choose which one to watch?  I think I'll just stick to the complimentary internet :)

From the bedroom to the bathroom.  I'm definitely looking forward to taking my bubble bath later.

So now you know that I'm living in luxury in Ft. Worth for the next two nights.  I'm quite excited about this alone time and my new laptop so I'm not disconnected from the world.  Maybe that's an oxymoron?  I want alone time - but to not be disconnected.  Hmmm.  I guess the reality is that I will always need to have contact with the outside world.  

I'll try to work on my next Dear John post over the next few days.  No promises.  Life gets busy when you're on the road.  Okay, my aching back is telling me it's time to go soak for awhile.  

Until next time...

German Saga, Part 3

*this is a continuation of my real-life Dear John story.  Click here and there to read the first two parts*

I was so naive. Matthias returned the next day...and I recovered from my "sickness."

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Sunday afternoon at a local cafe. 

Monday morning approaches, and I'm beyond ready to see Matthias again. It had been less than 24 hours, but it felt like an eternity. I don't think my sleeping habits were improving, either. I wasn't resting well because of the butterflies that had taken a permanent residence in my stomach. I'm talking consistent-can't-get-them-to-go-away butterflies. I don't think I have experienced butterflies this intense ever again. It was becoming clearly evident to me that this was no normal "friendship." I know. I claimed I really didn't think it would get more than a friendship. After Sunday afternoon and evening, I knew better. When we arrived to the church that morning, Matthias wasn't there with the rest of the German students. My heart plummeted into my stomach.

Life goes on.

Eventually, he did show up. And my life was complete again, butterflies and all.

Because we spent so much time with the families that went to the different churches, we were given "host families". We didn't actually stay in these family's homes. Remember, we stayed at a hostel? [There should be a post on hostel stories...that was quite the experience!] Instead, these families invited small groups of us into their homes for dinner on the last Monday in the city. Matthias had personally invited me to visit his parent's home.

The first afternoon in Germany.  This was taken a few hours before I met Matthias.  I'm on the far right.

In an earlier post, I talked about my boy-crazy tendencies. Again, I admit, I was that girl. I couldn't live well without having a crush. In a strange way, God has used this issue in my life to bring me closer to Him and what He desires for my life. It's not something I can regret. The past is the past, and it's not going to change (unless you're a character in Lost and time travel, even though the present happened in the past and it was always the way things happened...but that's another post entirely). Whatever had happened with the previous boys in my life, nothing compared to what was going on with Matthias. When he asked me to personally travel to his parent's house, the ever-present butterflies tripled their fluttering. Was this really happening?!

In order to give an affirmative answer, I had to seek approval from the adults on our trip. Thinking back now, I can't believe that they actually granted permission. To travel on the autobahn to a small village an hour away with a guy that we met a week earlier was no small matter. As an adult, I would not have made that same decision. Isn't it funny how these things in life work out? As a result of receiving permission, there were several conditions to be carried out. First, my friend Michelle had to come along for the journey. I wasn't allowed to be alone with a German guy. That makes sense. Second, I wasn't allowed to ride in the front seat of the car on the trip to the village. This was to make sure that there are boundaries, and as the third party, Michelle was meant to keep the lines clear. Thirdly, I was allowed to ride in the front seat on the way back to Berlin if it didn't appear that Matthias and I needed to be separated. I agreed to the conditions because I could sense that the adults suspected something else was happening in my new friendship. No matter how right they were, I had to go to his parent's house. It wasn't even a question.

Later Monday afternoon, Michelle and I gather our things (everything but the flowers we had purchased for his mom) at the church and meet Matthias to begin our journey out of town. We had to leave quite a bit earlier than the other groups - so there was quite a bit of gossip occurring. I had been semi-aware of this situation happening over the past week, and it was becoming really apparent. The stares were occuring more often and lasting longer. Several of the guys from America asked if I needed to be chaperoned to his parent's house. They acted intimidated and threatened by Matthias' presence. I remember thinking I didn't need protection...how silly!

Michelle rode in the front seat on the first part of the journey. I would like to say that I stayed awake to witness my first trip on the autobahn, but because I was clearly sleep deprived (butterflies, be calm!), I promptly fell asleep...only to wake up with my mouth WIDE OPEN. Awesome. There's no use trying to recover from such an embarrassment. My only hope is that I didn't snore. The other two car dwellers never mentioned anything - so I'm definitely holding on to the chance that neither of them saw me.

The front of Matthias' parent's home.  This picture came out of my scrapbook, and is a picture of a picture.  Sorry about the quality...all I had on the trip were disposable cameras!

This is the back view of Matthias' home.  It's so quaint and perfect.

We eventually arrive to Matthias' parents house; the house that his father built with his own two hands. As we pull up, Matthias explains how his dad designed the house and built it by himself. I was in complete awe. Imagine a show on the travel channel about quaint European towns and the homes the people there would live in. This was it. It was absolutely adorable! Matthias gave us a tour of the village and showed us the field where he likes to play futbol. Then we got to meet his parents. His dad spoke no English, and I believe his mom was familiar with it, but they are absolutely the most adorable people I have ever seen. If you can picture a strong woman, that's his mom. His dad was kind and thoughtful. Even though I didn't really talk to him, I could tell how much he cared for his family. For dinner, we were joined by a few other guys. Matthias explained later that they were a father and son - and their wife/mom was out of town. Apparently they didn't know how to cook...and they didn't speak English either.

Our dinner party.  From the left: Matthias' father, random German man, me, Michelle, Matthias, and random German man's son.  Again, a picture of a picture; sorry about the quality!

This picture was taken the morning after we had dinner at Matthias' home.  From the left: Michelle, Matthias' mom holding the flowers we had forgotten the day before, a lady from the church, and me. 

Throughout dinner, Michelle and I sat and listened to nothing but German...and didn't add to the conversation. At one point, there was what Michelle and I thought an English word spoken. This word was completely inappropriate for dinner conversation - and my blog, for that matter. Both Michelle and I proceed to giggle, and then recieved many strange looks. Apparently it's wasn't what we thought it was. We were queit again after that. Dinner came to and end sometime later. We gave our good-byes and headed back to Berlin, arriving to the church later than everyone else.

Matthias saw us back to the hostel and we said our "guten nachts". Matthias headed back to the church to sleep.  Tomorrow would be our last day of ministry in the city.

to be continued...

Story Time, Part 2

*This post is a continuation of my Dear John story.  Click Here to read the first part.*

It was in these next moments when I first met Matthias. Little did I know then...but our meeting would change everything I ever thought I knew about relationships and love.
__________________________________________________________

Matthias approached our circle with his blonde spiked hair and bright blue eyes - the German trademark. "What group are you in?" he asked in his attractive German accent. Each of the three of us answered in turn. Out of the three of us, 2 were in the K group, and 1 was in the H group. Upon hearing my response ("not the H one"), Matthias responded with a triumphant gesture, exclaiming, "YES!"

I laughed.

Initially, my thoughts were going crazy. This guy, this attractive, international German blonde-headed guy is excited that we happen to be working at the same location for the next 8 days. I didn't come to Germany for this purpose. Don't get me wrong. I was definitely that boy-crazy girl in high school. I can chronically list out the path of boys that I made my way through. However, I will refrain from this particular action. Back to the issue at hand: how realistic is it to be 16, travel to Europe and purposefully become infatuated with a guy who is 3 years older than you? Yeah, it's not. So it wasn't on my list of priorities.

The Kreuzberg Group (Americans and Germans) in front of the church.  This picture was taken the afternoon I had played futbol in the recreational park.

This is the 'H' church.  I am there on the right with my bright yellow backpack.  Oh, high school.

Over the next week, Matthias and I spent most of our time together through ministry. During the first few days, the Kreuzberg (formerly mentioned as the 'K' group) team tried to reach out to the surrounding Turkish immigrants in varying ways. Just down the street from the church building was Viktoria Park. It was in this park that we were able to master our balloon animal skills for the children and engage in conversations with adults. A little further away in the opposite direction, and around the corner, was a recreational park where young people would practice futbol and older adults would walk their dogs.

One afternoon, in order to reach a younger group of students, a group of German guys (Matthias included) and myself ventured off to the recreational area to play futbol. No other people joined our game - but I was able to prove myself very versatile to a discerning group of guys. It was these kinds of interactions that allowed me to spend time with my new interest.

Another view of our K group. I'm the second from the left on the first row.  See our amazing balloon animal skills?  Those mandatory meetings really helped us to prepare for mastering this essential skill.  Basically all of the people without balloon hats are Germans.  They just couldn't embrace the balloons like the Americans did.

When we ventured out into the neighborhoods to speak to locals, he would come as the translator for my group. In just a short period of time, I knew that something was different about our frienship. Our interactions were different than the ones I had with the other students. It was noticable to other people in the American group as well. I would be asked about the friendship, non-chalantly answer, "I don't know," or "I don't think anything's going on" and continue on with life. In my head, I knew better. But you can't just talk about something you aren't sure about. Especially in a youth group on an international mission trip. It just sets you up for disaster. You see, I wasn't the only girl on the trip who had developing interest in our new friends. That's not my story to tell, but let's just say that patience and endurance have worked out well for them. I'm impatient. And hasty. And I like to have immediate results. As you will see later in the story, these attributes come out time and time again. Sigh.

Practicing my balloon animal skills.  This picture reminds me of how young I once looked.  Sigh.

Within 5 days of meeting, I started to have dreams about Matthias. It's hard to recall the details. However, on one night when we were supposed to be resting more and sleeping in the next morning, I was awoken by such a vivid dream of the two of us that I failed to sleep from about 3 am until we finally got up the next morning (probably close to 9 am). Needless to say, I was always eager to see him. When we would go to church in the mornings, the first thing I would do is look for him. When the German students would meet us at the hostel, it was my top priority to be the first one to greet him.

On the first and last Sunday in the city, Matthias had to travel back to the town where his parents currently lived, a village about an hour away on the autobahn. His parents had moved out of Berlin and into this small town a few years before. When they had lived in the city, they had gone to the Kreuzberg church. Periodically, they came back to the city to visit. Anyway, Matthias was missing on this Sunday afternoon. After he had left for his parent's house, I began to feel sick. Later that afternoon, I had a fever. I was physically sick because the thought of Matthias not being present upset me. He had to be gone the night of our big "party" that we had been planning all week. We were only a few days away from leaving, and this was one of our last big ministry outreaches to the community.

Sunday afternoon after church.  Here, I'm on the far left, next to Lance, one of the American guys.  The guy in the suit in the middle is the pastor of the church. The other people are local members.  This picture was taken the afternoon I got sick.

As a result of Matthias taking time to visit his parents, I felt like everyone involved in planning and readying the event that evening were watching me a little too closely. It seemed they were trying to determine if I would survive without him there. A couple of the guys from my American team even possessed the boldness to ask me about our relationship - straight up asking about the possibility of dating, long-distance relationships, etc. I was so taken aback by his forwardness that I probably snapped at him about the whole deal. Even the question of needing 'protection' was even raised. Protection from what?! I didn't need protecting...I was clearly just developing a friendship.

I was so naive. Matthias returned the next day...and I recovered from my "sickness."


to be continued...

gather 'round and let me share a story from my past...part 1

To maybe "get in the spirit" of St. Valentine's Day, I think I would like to venture into a new territory on my blog. There aren't really rhymes or reasons to my blog. I can't even say each post is a complete thought. Or thoughts...it's even confusing to me. The posts seem vague. Sharing the stuff that's really going on in my life seems to be like bare exposure on the world wide web. So I guess I've become shy. (side note: does being shy make a person less vulnerable and honest?) Hang in here with me...

Plunging ahead.

Recently, I finished reading Dear John by Nicholas Sparks in order to see the movie. Anyone who has read or seen some of the books turned into movies pretty much knows and expects that it will be a tear-jerker and this fact is inevitable. So I prepared myself for it...and the tears never came. From the previews of the movie, I knew a little about the storyline and what happens, but the whys and hows were still left to be answered. After finishing, I wasn't really sad about the story. The emotions I experienced were disappointment and frustration. There were a couple of good quotes from the book that I enjoyed (and by that I mean 2), but they really have nothing to do with this post. At a later date, they might make their appearance here. Afterall, they were thought-provoking.

So where's this story from my past, right? I know. I'm getting there. It might explain my emotional reaction to the disappointment that is Dear John. For those of you who might have read or seen Dear John, this is a variation. It's not completely the same, but it's my version of Dear John. I'm not really asking for approval...although hearing some insight would be intriguing. One of the concerns I've voiced to a friend was that people might not read this story. And really, I can't be worried about that. I can't actually expect people to be as excited about this part of my life as I am about sharing it. As I started this post, I had intentions of it only being one post. The further I got into the story, there was more of the story that I realized I wanted to share. My passions have never included writing before I started this project. Now, I'm excited about the prospects of dissecting my past and trying to recreate the events that happened so long ago. It's my hope that as you read, you would also be willing to travel on this journey through my past. Please, enjoy :)




It was the fall of my sophomore year in high school, and I received a letter in the mail from my youth pastor in Houston talking about an opportunity to go to Germany the following summer and inviting me to consider the opportunity. Thus far in my short life, I had gone to Mexico and Arizona on different mission trips - and I had loved the experiences that each one had given me. It is through all of this traveling in my teenage years that ignited my passion for traveling. At 16, how great would an opportunity like this be? I would be able to leave the only continent I had lived on, go to Europe on a mission trip and experience the glory that is world-traveling? I basically begged my parents to say yes.

Before moving to Houston, my family had been situated in Georgia. My older sister, A, had gotten the chance to travel to Poland with our family church in Atlanta on a youth choir tour. When she had gotten back from visiting a country with a different language and culture, I wanted to listen to all the stories she had. She replayed the memories she had about the different food, buildings, people, and the historical monuments the choir had visited. It was probably at that point, while I was in the 8th grade and 14 years old, when I decided I, too, wanted to travel abroad and have similar experiences. When I receieved the letter from my youth pastor, it was the perfect opportunity to fulfill my dream of traveling abroad. From what I remember, my parents needed little convincing. After all, A had gone overseas before and seemed to be better for it.

Signing up for the trip meant that every member had to attend a mandatory weekly meeting where we would become acquainted with one another, learn about the culture of Germany, the different people groups we would be reaching, and their respective beliefs. In addition, we were divided into two seperate 'teams'. There was the "H" team and the "K" team. For our partnership with the local churches, we would be working in two separate locations. These were merely the names of the different church's locations shortened. We were young, and weren't all that familiar with the German language. As a result, it was just easier to use initials.

These meetings were probably my first exposure to learning about world religions in a non-school environment, and I was hooked immediately. I loved going to the meetings, and I loved the people on my team. Although most of the students attended the private school our church maintained, and I really didn't know a huge number of them, we were able to use the meetings as a chance to develop friendships. At first, it was hard to fit in with the other students. I was a public-school gal. I also lived 30+ miles away from the church building - so getting to the meetings was challenging, and it limited the amount of time I was allowed to 'hangout' afterwards. I was 16 at the time, and my parents weren't always comfortable with me driving that distance with my new license and Houston traffic. At 23, Houston traffic still scares me. The people there can't drive: a little fact I've discovered since living in a smaller town. Nontheless, I was able to develop some friendships with some of the other public school girls as well as a few of the private school crowd. It was these friendships that would get me through the next two years.


Our trip was scheduled for July of 2003. We would be gone for 12 days, and travel to 2 different cities: Berlin and München (Munich). As time creeped by, July approached slowly. It always seems that when you are anticipating something, it takes longer for it to approach (a relative time phenomenon also talked about in Dear John). Finally, the team met for our last few meetings, and it was about time to depart. I thought it would never get here!

I don't remember saying good-bye to my family in the airport. There was too much excitement for being sad about not being able to see them for almost 2 weeks. Traveling to a new place with a new language, new culture, new customs...there was so much to think about! Anticipation of leaving consumed my thoughts. Having no expectations out of this trip, I was ready to experience my moment of global exploration. At that point in my life, it was the longest plane ride I'd ever been on. Seven whole hours. But Air France was one of those trendy, updated services where they had individual tv screens on the back of the seat in front of you. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. A little sidenote: up until this point in my life, I had avoided all airplane toilets. I mean, where does the liquid go when you hit the "flush" button? Gross. With seven hours, however, you can't really avoid it. Later in life, traveling to China, I would really learn the importance of keeping up with staying hydrated. It just makes life easier once you get where you're going.

At the Airport in Houston.

Inevitably, we land in Germany, seven hours ahead of the central time zone we had left, and begin our day immediately. Effectively, we had flown "all night" and didn't get the luxury of resting after the journey. We visit the hostel, drop off our bags, change shirts, freshen up, etc. Our group meets in the courtyard in order to be introduced to our tourguides of the afternoon: students of the church with whom we had a partnership. These students would be doing ministry with us and translating when we talked to the local people. Off we went! Being quite sleep deprived, I can't quite remember the exact agenda of the afternoon. I have evidence of our tour with the pictures I took with my little disposable cameras. [Remember? Those were the days of the real "point-and-shoot" with no delete or re-do option. It was still a good 4 years before I would buy myself a digital camera (cheap and re-used, mind you).] And maybe there was something about trying to find a bank to exchange our American dollars for German Euros.

The hostel's central courtyard.

As we traveled around Berlin visiting landmarks and trying to exchange money, our two International student groups began to mesh together. Our curiousity of each other was growing. After visiting and praying outside of an official government building, the group of girls with whom I had prayed was joined by a German male student with blonde spiked hair and bright blue eyes. It was in these next moments when I first met Matthias. Little did I know then...but our meeting would change everything I ever thought I knew about relationships and love.

to be continued...

Decisions

It's been some time since I've posted about anything serious.  There has been quite the windstorm of thoughts swirling in my head - and I can't even say I've been able to fully express them to anyone.  Not because I didn't want to.  It's the opposite.  I would love for the people who I am closest to understand the complexities that I've been pondering.  It's probably my lack of ability to fully understand these thoughts to be able to speak them aloud. 

In spite of my shortcomings, I'm hoping this post will bring some light to certain situations. 

Doors: things that we walk through all the time.  The ones that allow access to a building, room, car, etc.  But the ones that can also deny the ability to progress through said entryway.  Unfortunately, the doors that I've come across recently are all closed.  Journeyman: closed. Hands On: closed.  The hope of keeping my current job past April: closed. 

So where is the open door?  I have two months left at this job...and I can't  help but think, "What about me?" What kind of job do I look for? Grad School? Profession?

The thing is, I've never really nailed down my "career".  If all was according to MY plan: I would have graduated, moved to China, stayed there 2 years, then come back and attempt seminary.  Almost 9 months after my college graduation, I'm still in College Station.  So we see how well my plans have worked out. 

But that's just it: they shouldn't have been MY plans to begin with.  If I had been approaching the future like I should have been, I wouldn't have been surprised by any of these circumstances.  God would have shown me the correct path...and I wouldn't feel so lost now.  So that leads to direction.  When you're lost, it's definitely helpful to find directions.  Or ask for them.  DING DING DING! Light bulb moment here (well, not exactly right now, but earlier, way before I started posting this)!!

Right.  Asking for directions.  Wait for an answer...with no timetable.  Trusting it's going to be worked out the best way, because I don't really have any other options.  I tried to stay stubborn and angry and upset about all the doors shutting...and here, I can't do it.  It's pretty hard and energy-consuming to stay upset at the Creator of the Universe.  So here's the humility.  Here's knowing I can't definitely do this on my own.  Here's the brokenness that comes when you feel like nothing else could go wrong. 


I was recommended by Jenn to read this book: Brokenness, Surrender, and Holiness by Nancy Leigh Demoss.  According to Jenn, this author is extremely down-to-earth and talks about life in a real way.  None of that sugar-coated stuff.  The nitty gritty down and dirty.  So, now that I'm done reading Dear John (more to come on this disappointment in a later post), I'm going to begin the process of reading through this tough trilogy series.  As I read, my goal is to post about thoughts/feelings/lessons.  Stay tuned...