Would you fancy a cup of tea?

I always saw scenes of people running through the airport in movies or when I’ve walked through the airport. In these scenes I imagine people with big backpacks and grand plans of adventure, normally having corresponding colored clothes and running through the airport because of some intense reason, maybe they just saved a child or let someone take their seat on the bus. My mind has woven stories and I’ve thought, “How wonderful that must be, how exciting and adventurous. I want to do that and run through the airport. I'll add it to my bucket list.” After it happens to you your thoughts change; it becomes less of a desirable situation, though the adventure aspect of it remains just as I imagined it. Your blood pumps just as I imagined, you sweat just as much, and the feeling of relief when you sit down on the plane is just as sweet.

Robin and I went to Bristol, England this weekend. While in Europe we wanted to pick a random place and go and the place ended up being Britain, though that was not the original plan. From the beginning, the trip was a little stressful. The primary reason to go to Bristol was to meet up with one of Robin’s closest friends. The night before we left, this friend cancelled her flight unexpectedly. We were all packed and left right after class, planning on arriving to the bus station with plenty of time to spare. The two-hour bus to the airport that we were planning to take was full so we waited an hour for the next one. At the airport we hurried through everything and made it to our gate with 15 minutes to spare. “Whoo, we made it!” I thought as we were in the boarding line for our flight that was leaving at 9.40. I looked over and for another outbound flight a man showed up while the sign flashed “Last Call”. I turned to Robin, “Wow, that guy cut it close, I’m glad he’s going to make it.” Little did I know that we would cut it even closer. We got up to the gate attendant, it was 9:18. She tells us that we needed a visa stamp on our boarding pass that we didn’t have and that we need to go get it. It was before security and she didn’t know if we would make it. The funny thing was that two people before her had checked both our boarding passes and our passports and said nothing of the matter. We looked at each other in panic and took off. We ended up going all the way one direction where a guy directed us at first and it was the wrong way; we continued all the way out of security to the random counter to get the stamp and all the way back through. While running I was thinking to myself what lesson Jesus was trying to teach me, maybe one about how money doesn’t matter, thinking I was going to miss my flight and loose a couple hundred dollars, or about how His plans are different than mine…I still for sure don't know how this played into what Jesus was teaching me this weekend. 

We ended up arriving to our gate for the second time sweaty and out of breath at 9.38 “espera, espera!” “Wait, wait!” we shouted. We made it, walked on the plane a pile of sweat and bags and relief. The rest of the weekend continued in adventure with our interesting hostel experience, talking in British accents the whole weekend, and enjoying scones and tea.

We returned home last night around midnight and leave tonight for Morocco for 6 days. Wow. So many different cultural experiences being thrown at me and I’m loving it.

Walking

         One of the perks of being in Europe, is that there is the opportunity to travel fairly easily to other places and countries. Being the case, I went to Italy this past weekend to meet up with one of my friends and mentors from the States, Aubren. We met up in Rome! It was incredible. It ended up being a trip of traveling for two days and being in Rome for two days, the traveling process being longer with buses, trains, and planes, but it was completely worth it! Each morning I turned over hugged Aubren and said, “We’re in Italy! I can’t believe it, we’re in Rome!” My mouth was open in awe nearly every moment as we walked among the best art I ever have or will experience and among pieces of history from before Christ. What beauty I experienced while walking through the Sistine Chapel, the Vatican, St. Peter’s Basilica, and the narrow streets with vines, flowers and bicycles everywhere! What a blessing to be able to connect with Aubren, it was a good break to see someone from home who knows me well at the 1/3 of my time in Spain mark.

            I returned home to Spain and it was as if fall had hit the city since I left three days earlier. The air was fresh, crisp, and held a chill, yet the sun was full, shining, and warm. I breathed deeply in, “Yes! A new season! So good!” I’ve been thinking about seasons, how they change frequently in the natural world as well as my life. In a sense, being here in Spain, I’ve already seen two different seasons for me, one when I was alone here for a month and it’s been another since having Robin. I have grown and changed in each one, and now I’m realizing another season I might be in…that of walking. In Rome we walked throughout the whole city. In Spain too, I walk everywhere, more than two hours a day and between 5 to 7 miles on average. This theme has translated to be internal as well; a season of walking, of waiting, of being patient, of waiting on God. I’ve had aspects of “waiting seasons” in my life before where I’ve expected, hoped, waited, but I’ve always been “running” during those times. Walking is a different concept for me, I’m used to running, to having my life be going fast and intense, this is the way I like it. Just like the culture that I am in and experiences I’ve been having, walking is completely different. Walking uses different muscles, has a different focus, and a different mindset. Or like a sailboat that is free to glide the water, but it waits for the wind to direct it, it’s speed ebbing and flowing with the current and the wind together. I’m wrestling with what it means to wait for the Lord. I’ve realized that just as walking is not passive but is movement, is constant, to be patient, to long for, hope, and seek are also active.

            Waiting makes the coming sweeter still. Seeking makes the finding all the more satisfying. I thirst for the Lord and when I find Him, he touches my tongue with the sweetness of His presence and leaves me full and desiring more nonetheless, what beauty of the gospel.

Psalm 27.14-“I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”

A good snap shot of Italy.

Aubren and I at the Colosseum pretending to be gladiators :)

            

Like a Child

I’ve felt like a child a lot recently in Spain. It’s been interesting feeling like I’m reverting back a decade or so of my life. Being in a different country, culture, and learning a new language has slowed my life down; slowed down my speech, communication, ability to build relationships, and the general speed at which I like to go through life. It’s slowed down my pace, but my mind, thoughts, questions, and curiosity are running at normal speed, which for me means my mind is focusing on 10 plus paths of thought independently. I wonder if this is what a child feels like, that their words or ability can’t keep up with their questions or curiosity? I remember when I was little and couldn’t read yet, my brother Caleb told me, “Once you can read you will point out everything and read every sign, it’s the greatest.” I feel the same way here. The other day I found myself walking along the street and similar to what I remember doing as a child, I was mentally pointing things out and translating them into my new language. Street:calle, tree: arbol, lamppost: farola, sky: cielo, sparrow: gorrión, fountain: fuente….and the list continues. Not just with objects but also song lyrics, prayers, and thoughts. It has definitely been a practical lesson in a few of the things I have been learning internally about patience and about simplicity. It has made me think very carefully over every word that comes out of my mouth. What do I need to say? What is mindless chatter? If out of the heart the mouth speaks, what am I choosing to speak about with my few words?

I felt like a child another time this week, a child being reprimanded. My roommate, Robin, and I decided to go on a run in the pouring rain. It was so fun, refreshing, and beautiful, but at the same time not culturally harmonious. We passed by some school children and teenagers and they openly pointed and laughed at us. We joined in because we felt so out of place. As we were nearing the house I began to feel nervousness build; my family here is extremely concerned about their floors and are the opposite of relaxed when it comes to moisture in their house. We reached the door and now the prospect of walking in sopping wet, dripping all over their floor made me feel like a child who wanted to run away after doing something wrong and not face the disappointment of others. We opened the door and as I presumed, my Spanish parents came in shaking their head in awe of how foolish we were. None too please they pointed at us and tapping their heads said, “¿Tu mente, tu mente, donde está tu mente?” “Your mind, your mind, where is your head?” We sat in the bathroom dripping, for a while, feeling terrible. We apologized profusely and afterward our Spanish mom assured us that it was totally not a problem that we should just learn and not do it again.

This made me think of how God relates to us, humans who often are very childish. The gospel is beautiful and I find myself again praising God for the redemption of my soul. When I make a complete mess of things, of my heart, mind, or soul, or when others do, again He comes near, holds my soaking wet body and says “It’s okay, I have something better though, won’t you come with me and jump in a different pool, one of life and joy?”

It is an experience of being humbled, sometimes gently and sometimes in surprising ways.