Wow. Went to mass this morning at the Duomo (Also known as the Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore). Now, I'm not Catholic so I just went for the experience of church in another country, going to Mass, etc. But God had some other ideas. As I'm sitting there listening to a language I cannot understand, in a country I do not live in, in a church I do not participate in, I heard God. In English. Now this might have been due in part to the fact that the program we received upon entry was in several languages including ours, but nonetheless... I was reading the verses that they had selected for today's homily and my first thought was one of critique. Why were these verses grouped in such a way that they seemed to go together, but were actually pulled out of context so that they read a whole different message...but I kept reading...and then I opened my own Bible and compared notes, as it were. And that's when it happened. "The I got lost in the You" as the Opera I saw on Friday night sang. I turned to 1 John 4:7-21 and began reading. The combined conviction and encouragement hit me like a Mack truck. God is love. The strains of the organ and the choir only added to the enormity of the moment. I was participating in worship 5,000 miles away from my home church (CrossPointe) and God followed me there, pursuing my heart no matter where I went. Verse 20 says, "If someone says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, he is a liar; for one who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen." Conviction slammed into my heart with startling accuracy. How can I say I love God and not forgive those who have wronged me? How can I say I love God and ignore those crying out for my love? Verses 7-10 show us the Gospel. They tell us what love is and why love is. "By this the love of God was manifested in us, that God has sent His only begotten Son into the world that we might live through Him. In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation (sacrifice) for our sins."
'All you need is love." We've heard it a million times. But it's true. Not the love of a man or a woman because they change their minds. They leave us. No. All we need is the love of the One who came up with the idea in the first place. He created love. Think about someone you love. How do you know you love them? You care about them. You care if they live or die, yes. But it's so much more than that. And sometimes you don't even mean for it to happen. But all of a sudden you realize you care. It matters to you. They matter to you. You care if they have a good day or a bad day. You care if they succeed or fail. You care if their eyes are happy or sad...
"[...] cast[...] all your cares upon Him, because He cares for you." -1 Peter 5:7
He feels the same way about us. The way that we care for that certain person (or those certain people) is the way that He cares for us...only times about a million. The fact that we have the capability to care for someone or about someone is evidence enough that He feels that way about us. He created us and everything that we feel and have the ability to feel in His own image. You are cared for, LOVED, by the Creator of those very things. What more do you need? Because of this, we can love. We can share that love with those around us. In fact, we perfect the love that God shows us. Verse 12 says, "No one has seen God at any time; if we love one another, God abides in us, and His love is perfected in us." Furthermore, we don't have to be afraid! Verses 18-19 say, "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love. We love, because He first loved us."
So love, friend. Love with reckless abandon. There is no fear in love. Love those around you. Love your friends. Love your enemies. Love strangers.
Care. Care about those around you. Care about your friends. Care about your enemies. Care about strangers.
Don't be afraid. Let them matter to you. And then love them with everything you have...
In a language I could not understand, in a country I do not live in, in a church I do not participate in, I heard God. Yes, God. Is. So. Cool.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Friday, May 11, 2012
It Might Have Been in Gay Paris... (pronounced Paree)
So I found this blog that never got published from my first study abroad trip to Germany. Thought some of you might enjoy this tid-bit about my adventures in Paris...
**Small explanation for the title: For those of you who don't follow old music, this is a song by The McGuire Sisters from the fifties. It's all about finding the world in someone you love...however, this post is about a weekend trip to France**
As I write this, I am in the hotel lobby listening to the sweet strains of some '40s music that our desk clerk found on the radio. He's this adorable, little old man that doesn't speak a word of English. So...I learned to say my room number in German.
I have quite a few stories for you involving angry French waiters, Disney-like bird feeding, relics, and of course: Train rides, so here goes...
Right after class on Wednesday we packed up for Paris and caught the 5:39 train. Train rides have become my favorite European habits; they're like chocolate boxes: you just never know what you're gonna get. On this train, we got a lovely mix. The four of us (we were missing the last part of our CSU Jackson Five) sat at a little table facing each other...love that. Across the aisle was a French family with the cutest 6 or 7 yr. old little girl. She was listening to an audio book in French that apparently encouraged interaction because she would pipe up every now and then with little French phrases that I didn't understand.
Behind this lovely family was a young man with cool horn rimmed glasses (seriously IN in Europe). He was on the phone when we first boarded and within ten minutes of being seated he had set up an entire office complete with laptop, mouse pad, mouse, headphones, and a mini-secretarial service. Throughout the trip various exchanges were made with him...such as eye contact and the occasional smile. About halfway through the trip a gentleman joined him and within the minute he was asleep...but he's not the type to do things half-way. He didn't just sleep, no no no! He SNORED. The kind that makes you a candidate for those breathing strip commercials. Well, obviously, I wanted a picture (documentation purposes only, folks), but our horn-rimmed friend was still awake so I had to be discreet. I asked Shane to act like he was taking a picture of me, but really take one of the snoring man and our horn-rimmed friend. Apparently, he thought I said, "Really obviously take a picture of the man that's snoring and the man beside him." These instructions, he followed verbatim. Turns out, our horn-rimmed friend was looking right at Shane when he took the shot. I include this picture.
Parenthetically, the little old desk clerk is now watching old westerns. Gunshots are ringing out in the lobby.
Moving on. While in Paris, we did a number of different things; I'll hit the highlights. Our first day there we stopped at the bakery at the end of our block and got Quiche Lorraine to eat on the bus (can you say delicious?) Hopped on the train (you do that a lot in Paris...hop) and went to the Sarce Coure Basilica. Turns out with all our various errands, picture taking and cliff dwelling, we got there just in time for the noon mass; a very cool expereince. (NOTE: When walking the streets of Paris, one must be constantly vigilant because of the men on the sidewalks hawking Parisian paraphenalia like little Eiffel towers on keychains, little Eiffel towers that light up, and little Eiffel towers with special psychic powers.) We thus far had done a fine job of running across the the street every time we came into contact with them until this one time at the Basilica. We were coming down the MILLION steps and we walked straight into them. Two African men working the stairs with odd knotted strings hanging from their fingers. Following Kori and Shane, Robin and I watched them neatly skirt them. Expecting to be able to do the same thing we charged forward saying, 'No thank you' in the British accents we had adopted for our stay in France. But alas! One grabbed my hand. I tried to pull away, but he was holding on too tight. I kept backing away saying, 'No, please don't' Shane and Kori were calling from a little further down the sidewalk. The man was trying to place his knotted string on my finger and he succeeded. I now have a bracelet and a cool story and it only Cost me EIGHT EURO. Unbelievable.
**Small explanation for the title: For those of you who don't follow old music, this is a song by The McGuire Sisters from the fifties. It's all about finding the world in someone you love...however, this post is about a weekend trip to France**
As I write this, I am in the hotel lobby listening to the sweet strains of some '40s music that our desk clerk found on the radio. He's this adorable, little old man that doesn't speak a word of English. So...I learned to say my room number in German.
I have quite a few stories for you involving angry French waiters, Disney-like bird feeding, relics, and of course: Train rides, so here goes...
Right after class on Wednesday we packed up for Paris and caught the 5:39 train. Train rides have become my favorite European habits; they're like chocolate boxes: you just never know what you're gonna get. On this train, we got a lovely mix. The four of us (we were missing the last part of our CSU Jackson Five) sat at a little table facing each other...love that. Across the aisle was a French family with the cutest 6 or 7 yr. old little girl. She was listening to an audio book in French that apparently encouraged interaction because she would pipe up every now and then with little French phrases that I didn't understand.
Behind this lovely family was a young man with cool horn rimmed glasses (seriously IN in Europe). He was on the phone when we first boarded and within ten minutes of being seated he had set up an entire office complete with laptop, mouse pad, mouse, headphones, and a mini-secretarial service. Throughout the trip various exchanges were made with him...such as eye contact and the occasional smile. About halfway through the trip a gentleman joined him and within the minute he was asleep...but he's not the type to do things half-way. He didn't just sleep, no no no! He SNORED. The kind that makes you a candidate for those breathing strip commercials. Well, obviously, I wanted a picture (documentation purposes only, folks), but our horn-rimmed friend was still awake so I had to be discreet. I asked Shane to act like he was taking a picture of me, but really take one of the snoring man and our horn-rimmed friend. Apparently, he thought I said, "Really obviously take a picture of the man that's snoring and the man beside him." These instructions, he followed verbatim. Turns out, our horn-rimmed friend was looking right at Shane when he took the shot. I include this picture.
Parenthetically, the little old desk clerk is now watching old westerns. Gunshots are ringing out in the lobby.
Moving on. While in Paris, we did a number of different things; I'll hit the highlights. Our first day there we stopped at the bakery at the end of our block and got Quiche Lorraine to eat on the bus (can you say delicious?) Hopped on the train (you do that a lot in Paris...hop) and went to the Sarce Coure Basilica. Turns out with all our various errands, picture taking and cliff dwelling, we got there just in time for the noon mass; a very cool expereince. (NOTE: When walking the streets of Paris, one must be constantly vigilant because of the men on the sidewalks hawking Parisian paraphenalia like little Eiffel towers on keychains, little Eiffel towers that light up, and little Eiffel towers with special psychic powers.) We thus far had done a fine job of running across the the street every time we came into contact with them until this one time at the Basilica. We were coming down the MILLION steps and we walked straight into them. Two African men working the stairs with odd knotted strings hanging from their fingers. Following Kori and Shane, Robin and I watched them neatly skirt them. Expecting to be able to do the same thing we charged forward saying, 'No thank you' in the British accents we had adopted for our stay in France. But alas! One grabbed my hand. I tried to pull away, but he was holding on too tight. I kept backing away saying, 'No, please don't' Shane and Kori were calling from a little further down the sidewalk. The man was trying to place his knotted string on my finger and he succeeded. I now have a bracelet and a cool story and it only Cost me EIGHT EURO. Unbelievable.
On My Journey to Becoming a Local...
Well today started off with a bang as we met our tour guide from ACCENT (this stands for something that means it's the name of our school here in Florence) at 9am for a practical walking tour of the city. We learned where the Post Office was, how to find a English-speaking doctor, and what bookstore won't kick us out for "just looking" and I can't remember any of it. Talk about JET-LAG. It caught up with me with a vangeance at least four times today. We then continued our day with an orientation about how not to get robbed, raped, or run over. Very informative (and yes, Mom, I do remember THAT part). Then a two hour break to find food before our Survival Italian class for 2 and a half hours where my second jet-lag attack had me dozing in class. Sort've wish we'd had that class before I had to walk up to a very busy Italian restaurant owner and tell him I wanted the Rustici sandwich (the contents of which remain unknown) in the worst Italian accent ever. However, after this class I feel much better about my Italian skills and even got a chance to use them with confidence later the same day...but you don't get to hear/read that story yet :)
After this LONG and information-slammed day I ventured with Michelle (not one of my roommates, which is important to know in a few sentences) to look for grocery stores because we needed toilet paper, laundry detergent, breakfast food, and tissues. And lo and behold we found several stores, but as we wandered around exploring the goods we realized just how clueless we still were when it came to finding what we needed, but we took a stab at it and from the above list we ended up with paper towels instead of toilet paper (hold your laughter please), fabric softener instead of laundry detergent (ok, now you can laugh), some breakfast food (VICTORY!!!), tissues and no trash bags because I forgot (...classic). We will be executing Grocery Shopping: Take Two tomorrow.
The next part of the story is far less discouraging (or hilarious depending on your perspective). Michelle and I both needed to get ready for our evening adventure to the Opera so we had to part ways half-way home since we don't live together (told you this part was important) and, yes, I DID successfully navigate my way back to my apt. all by myself!! Mom, at this point I just need you to start breathing again. Our ACCENT program director said that walking alone in the daytime is perfectly safe. Also it was only a few blocks, but this should not in ANY way minimize the outstanding nature of my victory because after last night, finding my apartment at all was amazing and without the help of my friends...it's applause worthy.
The next noteworthy event was the eternal walk we had to take to the German opera we went to go see. Jason, I'm gonna be FIT whether or not I end up intentionally training for this triathlon. The walking is awesome because your view is stunning; however because you're so wrapped up in the breath-taking architecture, stunning sculptures, and beautiful views of the river, you don't notice the DOG POOP you are walking through. Apparently, there are no pooper-scoopers in Italy. Or laws against leaving your dog's "flowers" all over the sidewalk. Bummer.
The Opera was aMaZiNg. And yes I DID just use alternating capital letters so you know I mean it. I could tell you everything, but that would take FIVE hours. Yes, you read correctly, FIVE hours of very high singing...in German. I am not even going to lie. I fell asleep in the first act, but using my newly acquired Italian skills I was able to order a cappuccino from the concession stand flawlessly before the second act. *high five* Stayed awake for the rest of the performance and was blown away. These people could sing like nobody's business. And it was visually stunning. Loved it.
Made it back home with no issues and I'm ready to sleep a little extra tomorrow so I can finish up some assignments and explore our neighborhood a little more.
With all this walking, navigating and Just Saying No to Street Hecklers (in their own language of course), I am well on my way to becoming a local!
Ciao!
After this LONG and information-slammed day I ventured with Michelle (not one of my roommates, which is important to know in a few sentences) to look for grocery stores because we needed toilet paper, laundry detergent, breakfast food, and tissues. And lo and behold we found several stores, but as we wandered around exploring the goods we realized just how clueless we still were when it came to finding what we needed, but we took a stab at it and from the above list we ended up with paper towels instead of toilet paper (hold your laughter please), fabric softener instead of laundry detergent (ok, now you can laugh), some breakfast food (VICTORY!!!), tissues and no trash bags because I forgot (...classic). We will be executing Grocery Shopping: Take Two tomorrow.
The next part of the story is far less discouraging (or hilarious depending on your perspective). Michelle and I both needed to get ready for our evening adventure to the Opera so we had to part ways half-way home since we don't live together (told you this part was important) and, yes, I DID successfully navigate my way back to my apt. all by myself!! Mom, at this point I just need you to start breathing again. Our ACCENT program director said that walking alone in the daytime is perfectly safe. Also it was only a few blocks, but this should not in ANY way minimize the outstanding nature of my victory because after last night, finding my apartment at all was amazing and without the help of my friends...it's applause worthy.
The next noteworthy event was the eternal walk we had to take to the German opera we went to go see. Jason, I'm gonna be FIT whether or not I end up intentionally training for this triathlon. The walking is awesome because your view is stunning; however because you're so wrapped up in the breath-taking architecture, stunning sculptures, and beautiful views of the river, you don't notice the DOG POOP you are walking through. Apparently, there are no pooper-scoopers in Italy. Or laws against leaving your dog's "flowers" all over the sidewalk. Bummer.
The Opera was aMaZiNg. And yes I DID just use alternating capital letters so you know I mean it. I could tell you everything, but that would take FIVE hours. Yes, you read correctly, FIVE hours of very high singing...in German. I am not even going to lie. I fell asleep in the first act, but using my newly acquired Italian skills I was able to order a cappuccino from the concession stand flawlessly before the second act. *high five* Stayed awake for the rest of the performance and was blown away. These people could sing like nobody's business. And it was visually stunning. Loved it.
Made it back home with no issues and I'm ready to sleep a little extra tomorrow so I can finish up some assignments and explore our neighborhood a little more.
With all this walking, navigating and Just Saying No to Street Hecklers (in their own language of course), I am well on my way to becoming a local!
Ciao!
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Alright! Update time!
We arrived in Frankfurt this morning after an all night flight from Atlanta...oh, but it doesn't start there! Before even successfully leaving the country the adventure looked us in the eyes and said, "Not so fast!" We gathered in the never-ending line to check our bags and an HOUR later we were on our way through another never-ending line at the Security Check-Point. Once past this, now, MILESTONE of our trip we boarded those lovely trains that mean you don't have to walk to the very last concourse in the airport. As we laughed about the ridiculous nature of the checkpoints, took silly pictures of the "beginning of our journey," and excitedly planned our events once we arrived, the train came to a stop and we exited like the nice lady said to at Concourse E (as in Echo). But for some reason, once we got off there was no where to go. People were standing still and watching the signs above the trains that read "Do Not Exit Concourse." Somthing was UP. Majorly. Eventually we realized we weren't going anywhere any time soon so we took seats in the middle of the mini-train station and waited...and waited. Finally a voice came over the intercom announcing that a lady named Olive needed to come to the nearest payphone and dial 911 for a very important message. Whoa. Then they hit. Security I mean. Swarming in their royal blue, crisply creased uniforms. I felt better already...until we heard what was REALLY going on. A mysterious package with wires wrapped around it was found in our concourse and they were working as quickly as possible to resolve it, but they would need to set up additional security screening stations before allowing passengers to board. Wowzers. So it went on...for another 20 minutes or so before finally boarding and taking off an hour late for our 8 hour flight (which I slept through--surprise, surprise) to Frankfurt. The good news was that it ate up our layover, so all I had time for was one run through my Taylor Swift playlist and a brief nap stretched out on the chairs at our gate. Keepin' it classy. While on this flight, thanks to Lufthansa's lovely ListenRelax radio, I discovered a fantastic new artist and her song "When You've Got Trouble." Here's a link so you can share in this experience: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UM4tDPSPtp0 You'll love it.
A long, though relatively uneventful day here in Florence as we found our apartments, rode in taxis down CRAZY Italian streets, and navigated the Via De's (all of the street names here begin with this) of Florence to our dinner meeting at a local Pizzeria. The most exciting thing all day was trying to find our way BACK to our apartment which seemed to have relocated. We tried FIVE different doors before realizing we were on the wrong street...blast. I was FREAKIN' out just as we saw it gleefully sitting right where we left it. Unbelievable.
Safe and sound and about to call it a night. Gotta kill this jetlag!
A long, though relatively uneventful day here in Florence as we found our apartments, rode in taxis down CRAZY Italian streets, and navigated the Via De's (all of the street names here begin with this) of Florence to our dinner meeting at a local Pizzeria. The most exciting thing all day was trying to find our way BACK to our apartment which seemed to have relocated. We tried FIVE different doors before realizing we were on the wrong street...blast. I was FREAKIN' out just as we saw it gleefully sitting right where we left it. Unbelievable.
Safe and sound and about to call it a night. Gotta kill this jetlag!
Italy 2012
Here I am again.
Funny stories and amusing anecdotes will once again reign my blog (that I apparently ONLY use when I'm out of the country).
Buckle up.
'Cause. Here. It. Comes.
Funny stories and amusing anecdotes will once again reign my blog (that I apparently ONLY use when I'm out of the country).
Buckle up.
'Cause. Here. It. Comes.
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