Homesick at Home

Today the ocean seems enormous and the people I love and miss in America seem distant. Technology just isn't enough. I simply miss my loved ones in the Homeland.

Babies are born; I can't be there to welcome and snuggle them.

Birthdays are celebrated and my voice can't sing along; my arms can't hug.

Family trips and photographs are taken; I’m not there.   

Memories are made, laughter is shared; I am absent.

I see pictures. I get messages. I even hear stories and video-chat. Sometimes, I’m even passed around on an iPad at family gatherings trying to hear what’s going on and catch the spirit of the celebration.

 The screen both reveals and restricts, it invites and barricades. It is both a comfort and a torture as it taunts me with what I cannot have. Video chatting, while incredible, will never be the same as being present with those I love. To touch, to smell, to truly LIVE life together. That cannot be done via technology.

My heart is divided. I have these two homes. I love them both. It is like a war within my soul. I want to be both places.

I miss home. At the same time, I AM home.

Some days it just feels like my heart is ripped in two. As if I will never be whole again, because no matter which country I find myself in, half of my heart will be elsewhere.

I guess this is why God said that this world is not our true home. I think I’m beginning to realize that no-thing, no-one, no-place will every truly satisfy. My heart and soul will never be fully satisfied on this earth. I was made for something more.

There is no antidote for this problem. My heart will still long for the people I love so dearly in America. My eyes will still leak when I see pictures of new babies, birthdays and celebrations on Facebook. There will still be times when I would give almost anything for a hug from someone who has known me my whole life. I will still dream of calling up that friend I miss and going on a coffee-date to catch up on life. Some days I will just give up and cry it out.

I was told that I would grieve this change in relationship, this distance. I didn’t know it would be the hardest over a year and a half after I made this leap across the globe. I couldn’t imagine the depth of this heart-sting. Yet, if I had known then, I probably would have been too afraid to jump. If I felt this pain before I found myself in the midst of this great love for and from the Romanian people… well, maybe I would have missed out on some of the most glorious plans God has for me.

New Bible Blues (first world problems!)

While I was in the States there was one thing that I kept jotting down on my to-do lists:

"Get a new Bible!"

Ohh, but I dreaded that task.

The Bible I'd been toting around the world was really beyond it's physical limits of sustenance. Three years of Bible college, being crammed between textbooks. I'd been throwing it into purses with my wallet, sunglasses and inhaler for years. Cramming it into my backpack for hiking adventures (because there's nothing better than sunrise Bible time with Jesus in a hammock!) I was thinking back and I believe I've had that Bible for around 7 years... maybe a little longer. It's been on hiking trips in Alaska, Colorado, & Romania. I've lugged it to at least 16 states and 6 countries. That Bible has been sprawled on countless coffee shop tables, airplane seat-back trays, couches, dining room tables, picnic tables, quilts and under shady trees.

This Bible has gone through its fair share of mishaps as well. I've spilled coffee on it a few times. It's been smashed, dropped, squished, torn and stained. It's been duct taped & book taped together multiple times. The leather cover is practically crumbling. There used to be a magnet that held it closed; that magnet is long since lost (I guess duct tape doesn't fix everything.)

To think beyond the physical. I've poured over that Bible during numerous college projects and papers. I've followed along during sermons, lectures, training, and Bible studies. I've memorized verses from the pages. Studied to lead, share or preach from those tiny typed words. Writing notes, underlining and sticky noting were common practices. Those words have challenged, encouraged,, confused, motivated, taught, provoked and blessed me. I've found love, truth and peace on these pages. Most of all, I've been drawn closer to my Lord spending time between the worn covers of this Book.

I'd really grown quite fond of this little Book. However, sometime in last last year I was challenged to go ahead and get a new Bible so that I could read God's Word afresh, without the notes and markings I had added. Sometimes those underlined verses stand out so much that I don't notice the other verses on the page.

I knew I needed to let go of the physical attachment that had grown within me and open the pages of a new book. A new book, though new in cover, crisp pages and free of duct tape, sharing the same life-giving words of my dear Book.

I took a couple trips to the bookstore. Once I almost got in line to purchase a new Bible. Spent a few hours searching online. I still didn't have a new Bible. I was quickly running out of time State-side. On my last trip to a bigger city (you know, one that has a book store) I forced myself into the bookstore and told myself I couldn't leave until I found a new Bible. I pulled Bible after Bible out of those little, white, cardboard boxes. I ran my fingers over the covers, flipped through the pages, weighed them in my hands, imagined dropping them into my favorite purses. I bounced between the NIV and ESV sections. I would pull one out and think I'd decided and then suddenly have a change-of-heart and put it back on the shelf. None of them felt right, because none of them were "My Book." My poor little brother was wandering around the store waiting on my to make up my mind. I kept telling myself: "This is important. You need to look at the Bible through fresh eyes. It will be good to have a new Bible." I wasn't very convincing. However, eventually I settled on a new Bible. It's bigger than my old one. It's not as soft and still smells new.

I couldn't bring myself to leave my old Book at home. I brought both Bibles back to Romania with me. I have been forcing myself to use my new Bible though. I still don't like it as much, but I'm getting used to it. I have enjoyed the fresh white pages, though I'm already going at them with my colored pencils! The real test came when I taught Bible study from it the other day.

I'm sure this Bible will grow on me eventually. It won't always stay this perfect, this clean or this whole. What's really important is the message inside and that message is the same as my Book. The Truth of this Book is what I cling to, what I run to each morning.

2013 Ministry Video

Well, I can finally share my ministry video that I've been holding back until I had shown it at all the churches and speaking engagements in the States. It's just a glimpse into my first year in Romania. I'm hoping to share more videos along the while over the next 20 months, or so, that I'm in Romania.

Just click the link below:

Allyssa's 2013 Ministry Video

Ceau America, It's Been Swell!

I've spent 11 weeks and two days in America and much has occurred.

  The second day I was Stateside I was able to celebrate my dear little "niece" Ruby's first birthday.  Soon after I got to spend Christmas with my family. Then, see my bestie, Tiffany, and her family; where I basked in the joy of being "Auntie Lys" some more. (Auntie Lys has become my absolute favorite name, even tho I have no "biological" nieces or nephews.)  New years was spent with one of my favorite families, the Linhardts. My wonderful church in Manhattan (Westview Community) welcomed me in the midst of an icy storm and sub-zero temps. Molly, my old and faithful Cavalier, got me to Kansas City and back for my training as well as a stay with my fabulous cousin, Callie. My dear friend, Nina, flew me up to Montana so I could be there for her wedding. She was a beautiful bride and I'm grateful for every minute of my time with her. It came to an end all to soon and I tearfully boarded a plane back to Kansas. After three years I was reunited with my kindred spirit, Courtney, in Kansas City and we spent a few gorgeously warm days in the City of Fountains & Boulevards, haha! Shortly after this I returned home in time to be snowed in for a while.  I read books, went sledding, watched movies, played games and sewed my way thru the cold days. Now I'm grateful for the time I had to just stay put, but at the time I dealt with a bit of cabin fever. Once that snow melted I decided to start traveling again and made it to Oakley, Manhattan, Wamego, Henderson, NE, Wichita, Valley Center, Ellsworth, Olsburg and all sorts of roads in-between. About a week ago I had the joy of meeting Jett Timothy; he's the adorable baby of Melissa, who I have called friend for over 22 years!

I've spoken about my ministry in Romania in front of crowds of differing sizes at least 8 different times. Sometimes it was 5 people, other times it was a couple hundred. I've shared during Sunday school, women's groups, youth group, mission moments and more. I've shared a video, passed out prayer cards and had countless conversations with people about what I do in Romania. Questions I never imagined answers for have been brought before me. Encouragement I never expected has been poured over me. I've been caught speaking, praying, singing and exclaiming in Romanian. My supporters, prayer partners and church families (yes, I have multiple!) have blessed me beyond belief!

Hands on creativity has also kept me busy. My mom & I have finished at least 12 sewing projects. Including but not limited to: a vest sewn out of an old lace curtain, a 2XL men's sweatshirt turned tunic, and a couple dresses turned skirts. I knitted my first scarf and hat, all on my own. Created a new prayer card on photoshop, using techniques I've never used before. Took pictures of countless people in multiple States. Helped decorate for my one of my dearest friend's wedding. Of course my creative list wasn't exactly completed, but it never is.

I've enjoyed endless supplies of Dr. Pepper & Cheetos. Eaten more Mexican food than is probably healthy. Bit into giant, juicy hamburgers. Cut into freshly grilled steak. Frequented Chipotle and Radina's. My dad even supplied my late-night cravings for coffee ice cream.  One of my favorite restaurant adventures turned into a night of food poisoning. Winter Olympics was a gravitational pull I couldn't resist as I cheered and cringed with the athletes, all the while sipping my DP and crunching on Cheetos. Popcorn Sunday nights, Grandma's cinnamon roll mornings, meal planning with Mom and favorite restaurant visits rounded out some of my American food cravings.


All in all, it was a wonderful time. I am so incredibly blessed to be able to come home and spend time with family and friends. It was wonderful to meet with supporters, supporting churches and those faithful prayer warriors who fight for me at home. I can't believe I have to finish packing tomorrow and be ready to head out Tuesday morning bright and early. I can't really explain the bittersweet feelings I'm enduring. There is a great sadness in leaving paired with excitement to see my loved ones in Romania. I'm also lead by the steady assurance that Romania is where God wants me, and my heart longs to follow my Lord's direction.

I've told so many people during my time here in the States that the call to obedience in spreading the truth and love of the Gospel is a call to every follower of Jesus Christ. My prayer is that I will be faithful in serving for this purpose in Romania.

Until next time,
         Ceau America!

Return to the Homeland

So far being back in the States has meant….

An exhausted me falling into my family's hugs at the airport after nearly 24 hours of traveling & then getting in the car to drive some more.

Marveling at how much my little brothers grew over the last year.

My family marveling at how heavy I can stuff a backpack & purse.

Heading straight to Chipotle from
the airport so I could indulge in my favorite burrito bowl: extra white rice, no beans, carnitas, mild salsa, just a sprinkle of cheese and guacamole! YUM!

Not remembering most of the drive home.

Waking up at 5 or 6am for a week because of jet lag.

Attending my "niece" Ruby's first birthday party the day after I got home. So glad I made it!

Reaching for the light switches on the outside of every doorway, because that's where they usually are in Romania.

Going to the dentist and happily discovering I still have NO cavities!!! The dentist called my teeth beautiful. The hygienist asked me about my life and by the time I left, was telling me how proud she is of me and what I do in Romania. Talk about a confidence booster!

Almost saying "pardon" (with a Romanian accent) when bumping into people countless times.

Being completely overwhelmed in Walmart because random strangers in every aisle were saying "excuse me" or "hello" or some such pleasant comment. My replies were continually delayed by my need to mentally remind myself that it is now culturally acceptable to reply and interact with the strangers in the grocery store.

Volunteering to tackle the mounds of laundry in our basement because laundry is SO EASY when you actually have a dryer and can do at least 8 loads in one day!!!

Finishing up Christmas shopping, wrapping gifts, and cooking/baking for Christmas events.


Taking my little brother to the barber shop and being told jet lag and culture shock really don't matter… once you've gone somewhere a couple times and just get used to it. Apparently I could just decide not to experience such maladies and be completely free of all negative side effects. Thank you kind Sir thank you soooo much!  (sorry, but sometimes sarcasm is the best response I can come up with! bahahaha just gotta laugh it off!)

Getting super excited every time I'm driving and hit a red light when I want to turn right. Because in America you CAN turn right on a red! wahoo!!!

Our annual Christmas gathering at Gma & Gpa Reber's. We had our traditional shrimp & crab legs and more food than we could eat in three days! Also laughed our way through the dirty santa gift exchange where gifts included anything from a lilypad to batteries (toy not included.)

Realizing that no matter what country I'm in, people will never pronounce my name correctly.

Enjoying being with my family and friends so much, while simultaneously missing all of my friends and "family" in Romania! The joy & pain of having two homes half a world apart, but I wouldn't have it any other way!

Oh, I'm sure there's more, but those are the highlights so far!

Pendulum Swinging

Today I was forced (via my to-do list) to think back over the past year. It's been a wild ride. I was trying to summarize all that has gone on in an email and found it a little overwhelming. Then I started working on some photo books online that I want to finish before I go home. Well, that just brought so many things to the forefront of my mind.

A year ago I was frantically running around trying to finish all those little elusive tasks before I would fly across half the globe to my new home in Romania. My emotions swung like a pendulum between extreme excitement and extreme sadness, or maybe it was extreme nervousness to extreme assurance. Okay, honestly, it was all of those things.

Then, I arrived in Romania and began making my life here. I began learning a new language; wishing at times for a language fairy to visit me while I slept and somehow implant perfect Romanian abilities in my brain and mouth. I attempted to adapt to a new culture; often I failed miserably at this.  Finding myself screaming into my pillow or begging some friend to explain why in the world things where so confusing was not an uncommon scene.

Adjustment came, one baby-step or cliff dive at a time.

Language came, one tongue-twisting word, conjugated verb or gender altered adjective at a time.

Friendships came, one shared experience at a time.

Service came, one lap-plopping opportunity at a time.

Conflict came, one imperfect human dealing with imperfect me at a time.

Struggles came.
Joy came.
Fear came.
Triumph came.

Endings and new beginnings.
Confusion and clarity.
Laughter and tears.

Few things seemed constant. Few things being… ONE: my God.

God my Father, Jesus my Savior & the Holy Spirit my counselor… He never changes. He is faithful. He is constant. He is the reason I smile about the past year. He is the reason I rejoice in the struggles and joys alike.

I don't always understand why my God does what He does in the moment, but I trust Him. I trust Him to give and to take away. I trust Him to change my plans a thousand times. I trust Him even when my whole life feels like chaos. In my redeeming God I find my peace.

Tonight I was reminded of Job's words when he faced trials much larger than my own...

"The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised." 

Job 1:21

"He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed miracles that cannot be counted." 

Job 5:9

"I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth." 

Job 19:25

"God's voice thunders in marvelous ways; he does great things beyond our understanding." 

Job 37:5

When things seem overwhelming I just reflect upon my redeemer, my Lord. He does not change. He is the same yesterday, today and forever! How grateful is my heart for this assurance. I'm so glad that even when I swing like a pendulum, I am anchored in a Lord who is steady, unmoving and sure. He patiently bids me to rest in Him, to lay aside my pendulum swaying tendencies and walk assured in His grace.

Peace in the Chaos

The last few weeks could easily be described as chaotic and stressful. I feel like I just ran around like a crazy person from one responsibility to the next appointment. Yet, in the midst of all the chaos, God was consistently teaching me to have a peaceful heart. God was showing me that my peace comes from Him and not my circumstances. This isn't a new idea, but neither is it one that I have been known to put into practice on a daily basis.

One of the big ways God has been teaching me to have peace is to be grateful in each and every circumstance. Thessalonians 5:18 has really come alive to me over the last few months. I'm learning to look at each moment in my day and seek a way to be grateful in it. 

While I knew God was working on teaching me peace and gratefulness, I didn't know that I was about to have a chance to practice them in more extreme circumstances than normal. 

My friends, Sue & Meggan, and I had been talking about a trip to Budapest to go to IKEA. Meggan and I had been holding out on some things for our apartment that we really wanted to get at IKEA. Sue also just moved into an apartment and liked the idea of an IKEA run. We were originally thinking we would have to make the trip there and back on the same day because we have all been so busy. Somehow, we all ended up with last Thursday & Friday free and decided to turn it into an overnight trip. We booked a place to stay and headed out Thursday morning for a little time away. We were all excited about a chance to rest, relax and enjoy some stress-free time. Life had been getting really overwhelming for me and wasn't much better for Sue or Meggan. 

Thursday was wonderful. We had a slightly rainy, but nice drive to Budapest. Enjoyed walking around the city, shopping a little, eating some yummy Italian food and a walk along the Danube river. Then we returned to our room early to read and relax before a good night's sleep.

Sue & I woke up early on Friday and went downstairs to a coffee shop that's owned by a church whose guest house/apartment we were staying in. We settled into some comfy chairs to sip our coffee and have some devotional time. We were each reading, writing and praying on our own. However, when Sue read her devotional for that day she was amazed and told me that she just knew God was preparing her for something. He kept giving her the verse from Romans 8:28: "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." Sue had also told me the day before that she felt like God was preparing her for something. As we sat in that coffee shop she told me again, "I think something's about to happen to me. God is preparing me for something. I just don't know what it's going to be." I simply replied, "I guess we'll have to wait and see." I was thinking that at least we would know God was in it when it did happen.

After our devotion time, we finished getting ready and packed up so we could check out of our room. We walked to my car and tossed the bags in the trunk, being sure the trunk cover was in place and nothing was visible from the windows. We toured a bit more of the city, taking pictures and enjoying the architecture of Budapest. Then headed back to the car so we would have time to stop at IKEA on our way home.

We walked up the busy street toward my car around 1:30pm. As we approached my car I realized something was wrong with the rear windshield; sure enough it was busted. Someone had broken into my car.

Suddenly what was supposed to be our relaxing getaway turned into something stressful. I unlocked the doors and opened the trunk. Initially it looked like most of our stuff was still there. Something was missing though; we soon realized it was Sue's backpack. It had her camera in it. She hadn't seen a need to carry her camera around when she was with Meggan and I who were snapping pictures of just about everything. We all stood there slightly dumbfounded and overwhelmed. I think I said something like, "What do we even do!?!?" We were in Hungary, where they speak Hungarian (one of the most difficult languages in the world, and I'm not just saying that!) Our phones didn't even work once we crossed the border into Hungary. I suddenly missed America and my small town Kansas life desperately. 

After a little while we decided to drive back to the church/cafe. We knew they spoke english there and maybe they could tell us what we should do. What we found out is that it could take around 4 hours at the police station just to fill out a report and generally the reports result in a whole lot of nothing. Well, I had no desire to spend 4 hours in a Hungarian police station for nothing. So, we cleaned it up the best we could and headed out.

We were all overwhelmed and upset by the situation, but also kept claiming our trust in God and His plan. Sue now knew what God had been preparing her for. I now realized God had wanted me to be prepared as well, not just to support Sue, but also for myself.

Deciding what to do after was a bit overwhelming. We had still wanted to go to IKEA. That HAD been the main goal of our trip to Budapest. Being a bit stubborn, we were not about to let that crazy criminal who robbed us ruin our entire trip. So, we headed to IKEA anyway, entered the parking garage and backed my car up as close to a wall as possible. We took all the valuables in with us and pushed them around in a cart.

Once we emerged from IKEA, I was beginning to feel even more overwhelmed. I was so upset that this person had ruined our desire for a stress-free, relaxing, refreshing getaway. We also had experienced some difficulty in crossing the border on the way into Hungary because Meggan doesn't have a temporary residence card (visa.) So, we were also facing the fear of reaching the border with a busted out rear windshield and the possibility of them not allowing Meggan to re-enter Romania. We knew the enemy was working extra hard to get to us. So, before we even left our parking space, we prayed. Well, I tried to pray. It was all getting to be a little too much for me and I started crying. Sue & Meggan then prayed and I composed myself so I could drive.

Before we left for the trip I we had each made some CDs with road trip music. My CD happened to be in the car at the time because I knew it had some worship music on it. One of the first songs that came on was called "Cast my Cares on You" by Tim Timmons. After it played for a bit I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I decided to laugh because I needed to be able to drive and I had a feeling the tears would interfere with seeing the road. All I could think was, "Thank you, God."

Here's the link to the song if you'd like to listen:
Cast My Cares - Tim Timmons

In the end. I chose to give thanks. I chose to be grateful that we went through the whole experience because it is an even greater lesson of finding my peace in God alone and not my circumstances. Altho, I can't say that I was at perfect peace the entire time, my heart WAS resting in the Lord. I do trust that He is sovereign and He can use this experience for His good. At this point, it was in the very least a character building experience. It was also a challenge to practice giving thanks in the worst of circumstances. Here's the thankful list I wrote the night we got home:

I choose to be grateful!
Grateful to have a car, busted or not.
Grateful to have a little time away with Sue & Meg.
Grateful we were safe while driving to Budapest and back.
Grateful Meggan got back across the border into RO.
Grateful we weren't freezing cold on the way home.
Grateful none of us brought our laptops on the trip.
Grateful they didn't steal more from my car.
Grateful we all had our passports with us and not in the car.
Grateful we got to go to IKEA.
Grateful for friends to lean on.
Grateful that God was preparing our hearts.
Grateful that God never leaves me nor forsakes me!
Grateful that my car was broken into because it's helping me learn to trust God's sovereignty and learn to have a peaceful heart in the midst of chaotic circumstances. 

Chaos Covered in Peace

This morning I woke up to the sound of my neighbor yelling at his family. It seemed fitting to wake up to something ridiculous, so that I could continue through this crazy week.

Remember all those times in math class when everyone would sit around and say: "When are we EVER going to use this in real life!?!?" Well, this week I feel as if I've proven myself wrong. I might as well have my nose stuck in a geometry book. However, this time it's for real, not only for a grade. We've had a rather large project at Beauty from Ashes. A local family is starting a new business and has enlisted much help from us. Diana and I have been hard at work crunching numbers, having meetings, and creating projects. My brain hurts, not only from the math, but also from focusing so much to understand everything in the meetings where we discuss things in Romanian. When I say "we" I use that very lightly. While I'm able to keep up with much of what I understand, my additions to Romanian conversations are still limited, especially in front of new people. 

To add to my crazy week, I've had some sort of meeting or activity every night this week. I cannot express how valuable the quiet morning moments with my Lord have been this week. I know I would be a wreck if it weren't for the comfort of His Word. His blessings are immeasurable. Earlier today I had 15 minutes of rest at home before heading out again and I can't even describe how grateful I was for those 15 minutes! It's funny how I'm feeling tired, a bit stressed and like my chaotic life is stuck in fast forward; yet, God has given me a heart of peace in the chaos. I'm so thankful that though my world may be a whirlwind, my God is a rock. He is the foundation upon which my life is founded. Because He is faithful and constant, I will give thanks and praise His Name! 

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. 

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way

and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea

though its waters roar and foam

and the mountains quake with their surging. 

Psalm 46:1-3

A Grateful Heart

The other day I was conversing with a friend when it hit me, clear as day:

God's been teaching me gratefulness.

I think in every season of my life there has been a primary part of my character that God was sanctifying. There were years of learning to trust. There were, oh so many times of learning humility. There were definitely years of learning patience. Though I have yet to master any one of these attributes, there are times of intense training in my life.

It's like isolating particular muscle group in the body, while not ignoring the body as a whole. I can often trace a steady thread through my day-to-day life, pointing to a singular characteristic that God is training more intensely. Right now, this characteristic is gratefulness.

There are many ways God is teaching me gratefulness. First of all, He took me away from all that is familiar and brought me halfway around the globe to Romania. Many of the people, places, and things that I was grateful for were gone, or at least quite far away. Yet, I was never alone. My Heavenly Father's presence was made known in a mighty way. I was also blessed with many new friends who bent over backwards to bless and welcome me. I had no idea how important these people would be to me. I was also incredibly grateful for technology and the ways that I AM able to stay in contact with friends and family in the States. 

There are countless other little ways God has been teaching me gratefulness. It's a daily process. Living in a new country and culture, I am often tempted to complain about how things are here. I'm also often tempted to spend time missing people, places & things at home. However, spending time bemoaning the things I don't have only distracts me from the blessings I DO have. So, I'm practicing being thankful in every circumstance. Even when I'm overwhelmed, confused, frustrated or lost, I'm learning to choose gratefulness.

God teaches me gratefulness each day as I walk down my sidewalk and see men, women and children digging through the garbage. It's like a smack in the face, or a megaphone sized reminder to: STOP COMPLAINING! I'm constantly reminded to stop wishing for more/bigger/better/different. I am incredibly blessed. I have churches, families and individuals who support me so that I can follow God's call on my life and serve Him in Romania. I get to serve here because the Body of Christ saw God's heart for the people of Romania. The Body of Christ saw God's call on my life and chose to enter in His service through their prayers, encouragement AND finances. It's so incredible; I'm continually amazed and thanking my Lord for the beautiful way in which He provides for my needs.

God is teaching me gratefulness for His presence. He is teaching me to look for Him through it all. 

I see Him in the eyes of orphans...in the smile of my neighbor, in the hug from a friend, in the changing fall leaves, in the living, growing pain of sore muscles, in the sun glittering across the river, in the pink hues of a sunset, in the giggles of little children, in the wrinkled faces of weathered women, in the tongue twisting failures of new language, in the weary process of buying & registering a car, in the rapid forming dust-bunny collection under my bed, in the painful molding & shaping of my heart, in the humbling failures of my days, in the crunch of juicy apple, in squeak of sneakers on a gym floor, in the tears rolling down my cheeks... Jesus is there, in it all. He is worthy of praise in each moment. I'm learning to truly see Him. Each time I see Him brings an opportunity to turn and give thanks. 

"Be joyful always; pray continually;

 give thanks in all circumstances, 

for this is Gods will for you in Christ Jesus."

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Where have you seen Jesus today? 

Did you turn and give Him thanks? 

Past due confessions

Kentucky Sunrise a couple years ago

Multiple events are pointing to the undeniable fact that I may have become....dare I say it: a morning person! I cringe at the thought, I have lived so much of my life hating mornings. Yet, the facts are undeniable. Yesterday morning I showed up at the gym early. It was Saturday. The gym doesn't open until 10am. I mean seriously, who get's up early on a SATURDAY to go to the gym? Evidently, I do. Eeek! Second fact: I have a good friend here who has begun to refer to me as an, "early riser." She has even admitted to not calling me late at night for fear I was already in bed in preparation for my said: early rising. Additional confirmation has come through the repeated lamenting of the fact that there are no coffee shops here that open at 6 or 7am. I have repeatedly desired to go work on some language homework, read my Bible, journal, etc. while enjoying my favorite espresso drink, an Americano. Evidently my drink is not the only "American" preference I have, since I have yet to find a coffee shop with decent coffee that opens at or before sunrise. 

I requested a Sunrise service on Easter
which also happened to be my birthday!

Now, before we go further let's clarify that I love staying up late and generally do so. It is incredibly rare for me to get to bed before 11:30pm. I also still despise the act of waking up each morning. I pretty much dislike all of it: 

 - forcing my mind out of the foggy dream world and into reality

 - peeling open eyes that have nearly crusted shut from hours of blissful slumber

 - hitting the snooze button over and over after that horrid sound 

 - internal debates about getting up or changing the alarm for another hour of sleep

 - finally throwing off the covers and slapping feet against cold floor in one fluid motion so that I can't change my mind halfway through

 - rapidly blinking eyes against morning light



So, it's obvious that I'm not one of those peppy people who pop out of bed with a smile and joyful words flowing from their lips. However, once I make it past the desperate need to pee & brush the morning breath out of my mouth I'm remarkably glad to be awake. I enjoy those quiet morning moments. I like heading straight out to run or to the gym in the mornings. Then I like the time I spend on my yoga mat with my Bible spread open between straddle stretched legs. I enjoy setting quiet music playing while I start the coffee and pour a bowl of cereal. I love the swift stroke of pen against journal as I pour out my heart and prayers on paper.

Bible & Journal time

I also still have a bit of what my mom used to call the: "zombi stage." As a child the zombi stage referred to the first hour I was awake each morning. During said hour, I didn't talk, eat, get ready, or really do anything. Once the hour is up I was usually able to rouse out of my zombi stage and start getting ready for my day. However, if someone tried to force me through my needed wake-up time too fast, things got ugly. Thankfully, I have grown out of this...a bit. I still prefer my morning time to have as little verbal interaction as possible. 

 Sunrise in Kentucky

In the end, my days are significantly better when I wake up around 6:30 or 7:00am. Waking up early usually guarantees my time for exercise, Bible, & prayer time with Jesus; all three are incredibly important for my sanity.

So, obviously I am past due to confess that I am indeed a morning person. Although, I'd still claim special clarifications of this title and I'm not ready to let go of my night owl tendencies.

 snapped this pic with my ipod on a morning run in Oradea, RO

My Mom in Romania

I've often dreamed of being one of those bloggers that posts almost daily on her blog, providing readers with a perfect mix of humor, transparency, challenge, depth, helpful tid-bits of information, possibly an occasional recipe or DIY just to round it out. On this dream-cloud I would obviously have hundreds of followers and be pasted across everyone's Facebook as a "good read."

However, as you can see, there is nothing in the previous paragraph that adequately describes my blog. I'm erratic in posts and I've not once posted a recipe on my blog! As my former housemate and I grew fond of saying about anything and everything:

"It is what is is." Period. The end.

 I can dream, dare myself, become more determined... but in the end, it is just my blog. A blog where I occasionally share stories of my life, thoughts that cross my mind and ways that God is challenging me. It is a blog that is rarely read by more than 25 people. It is what it is: my blog.

So, here it goes, once again.

When I moved to Romania ten months ago, I knew I would be experiencing a lot. My list of things to expect was long: culture shock, strange looks, spending my first Christmas away from my family, struggles in learning a new language, loneliness, adjusting to living in a city, learning to navigate the public transportation, missing my favorite foods from America, being confused, making ridiculous mistakes in Romanian, and missing my family & friends at home. However, one thing I never expected was for someone from home to come visit me. I knew my family talked about visiting me in Romania one day, but we always said it made more sense to wait until I was here for longer than a year. My mom just couldn't stand it though. She started talking about trying to come early in the summer. She mentioned it to me and I replied that of course it would be great, but inwardly wrote it off as impossible. I didn't really think she'd be able to make it work. Then Mom's birthday was getting closer and my older brother mentioned helping mom with her plane ticket as a part of her birthday present. I still didn't want to get my hopes up, but I was starting to believe it was at least possible.

Possible it was. September 5th my mom flew into Romania and I was so excited to hug her and see her in person for the first time in over 9 months. I've traveled and lived away from home before, but I've never been away from my family for more than 3 months. Mom coming here was a such a blessing during my first year away!

 So, Mom & I began 19 days together in Romania. There was something so special about sharing this place I love with my mom. Mom is one of my most favoritest people on earth [yes, I know that's not grammatically correct, but sometimes you have to be incorrect to state something correctly!]  Introducing her to this new world I live in here and the people I care so much for was amazing!

Mom was her natural helpful, joyful self. I loved living life with her here for a bit. We got to explore together in Bucharest, Brasov, and Sigisoara. We spent a week in a beautiful valley with a kitchen window view Mom wanted to take home! I showed her around to all my favorite places in Oradea. I introduced her to all my friends and "family" here. I made sure she tasted all my favorite Romanian foods. I made her walk all over the place and take all sorts of public transportation, like a "real European." We served together in various ways: sewing, baby-sitting, telling Bible stories, carrying bricks, encouraging, loving and laughing with many.

Then I had to say good-bye. It was a bit tearful, but not nearly so bad since I know I'm headed home in December. After going 9 months, two and a half feels like a little bit of nothing!

Mom, I'm so glad you got to come visit me! It was so wonderful to have you here! You've definitely set the bar high though. You got over jet-lag remarkably fast (thanks for passing that trait down to me!) The enormous amount of America-gifts you brought my friends and I created Christmas in September as we fondly refereed to it. You jumped in and enjoyed, served, loved and lived in the moment in a way only few people can. Anyone else who comes to visit has a hard act to follow! Love you Mom!

Bumpy Roads

A few months ago I started talking to trusted Romanian friends about my desire to purchase a vehicle. I wanted to find a trusted individual to help me out in this process. Once I started mentioning the idea, many people spouted: "Oh, I know a guy" or "My _______(fill in: brother/uncle/cousin/neighbor/dad/best friend's boyfriend) helps people find cars!"  

Other responses include: "Why are you buying a car, aren't you going home (read: America) soon?" To which I would explain that I had moved to Romania with the intent to live here until God tells me to live anyplace else. This was something I thought I had communicated to most people, but I guess it was lost in translation at some point. 

After a couple months I was still no closer to purchasing a vehicle than when I began. My desire to have independent access to the Roma villages continued to be a dream. THEN, (bum, bum, buuum) I went to Brasov and met my wonderful friends Elvis & Katie. Elvis, (yes, that's his real name and he's Romanian) heard of my desire for a vehicle and mentioned that he knew a reliable, Christian guy who helped people purchase used cars from Germany. The idea here is that the used cars in Germany are in better condition than used cars in Romania. I feel confident in the accuracy of this concept given my experiences on both German and Romanian roads. I know that my own body was in better condition after German roads. 

This creative complaint could be executed on most Romanian roads
and has occasionally resulted in repair of such roads. 

I was perked a bit by Elvis' good recommendation. I trusted his advice and I knew that he wouldn't send me to someone he didn't trust himself. After a week or so, we started talking more about what I wanted in a vehicle. Then I started receiving e-mails from the car guy. We've been looking at models and trying to narrow things down and find a good balance of the aspects I find important and necessary with a reasonable price and tax. It's all been a bit dizzying, but I'm starting to figure this system out. I've mastered searching the online database, in Romanian none-the-less. You can change the page to English, but I find the Romanian version to have more specific search criteria. So, in the process I'm learning some Romanian vehicle vocabulary. 

At the same time I'm figuring things out, I continue to be a bit overwhelmed. There are so many options and so many aspects to consider. I also find it a bit staggering to spend so much money on any one object. My last car was $900 and lasted over 6 years and 80,000 miles! I know that would never repeat even in America. 

So, I keep searching, praying for wisdom, and asking trusted friends and family for advice. There are times I get overwhelmed with the advice and have to take a step back. Everyone seems to have solid opinions, but they are all different opinions! I am so very thankful for my friend Elvis and his consistent help through this whole process. I probably would have just given up if it weren't for him.

All this to say: I hope to find myself the owner of a vehicle in the next month. I hope to make a smart and wise decision. I hope for God's peace in the purchase of a vehicle. I'm praying against buyer's remorse (I'm just not sure I can handle that!) Maybe one day soon I'll make it through this bumpy road of car purchasing decisions and be posting about my new set of wheels. Then will come the stories of my trips to the villages and places I couldn't freely access before! 

Mercy in Sabolciu

So, today I got peed on. That's right someone else's urine on me. 

Thankfully, it was only a tiny baby. She couldn't get me too wet. You see, in the villages the babies rarely have diapers. Diapers are very expensive in RO and not a priority for most of the Roma families. This afternoon, when I asked a mother if I could hold her little baby I had no idea the prize in store for me. It was instant, as if she was just waiting to be in my arms to let it out. Her mom figured it out about the same time I did. The mother simply scooped her back up and took her home to change her pants. As I handed the little one over I discovered the wet circle right in the middle of my blue t-shirt. We had only arrived a few minutes earlier, so I still had a while to go before I could change my shirt. I just continued on as if nothing had happened. This is my life. A short while later, the kind mother returned with her little girl in dry pants. I got to hold her again, along with her older brother who was already occupying my lap. This time we stayed dry until she was hungry and had to go back to mommy. 

That was my funny story for the day...here's what else happened: 

Every Sunday we attempt to have a kids program in the village while the adults have church. The kids tend to just spend the church service walking in and out or generally creating commotion during church. So, we're trying to create a better environment for everyone. The only problem is our lack of control with the kids. They really just don't listen. Today consisted of trying to talk over all the kids simultaneously talking. When we try to get their attention there is generally a lot of ignoring that occurs. When that doesn't work, we just tell the kids to all yell at the top of their lungs. Then someone holds up their fingers and counts to three. The theory is everyone will stop at the count of three. The reality is half the kids keep screaming and we have to count to three about five times in order to get them all to stop screaming. That was about how this afternoon went. 

So, we muddled through another day with those uncontrollable kids. The strange part is: we still love them; we still want to go back. Even though we often walk away discouraged, we keep going back. We keep loving those kids. We keep trying to show them Jesus. 

Seriously, who am I to say they've had too many chances!?!?  Praise the Lord, He doesn't count my chances and tell me when I've ran out! He doesn't walk away and throw His hands up at my stubbornness. He doesn't give up showing me His love, even when I'm talking, yelling and looking every way but His. He never tells me "no" when I seek His forgiveness. He desires repentance for His children, but His love is never diminished. His mercy flows like a river over all my sins. He doesn't give up on me. By God's strength I won't give up on that wild bunch of kiddos! 

This seems to be a common thread in what God has been teaching me lately. When I get discouraged, frustrated or hurt by the people around me, He usually quietly reminds me of His great forgiveness for me. It's my humble reminder that I have no business withholding forgiveness from ANYONE! I have no reason not to extend mercy and grace each day to whomever I interact with. The mercy He has poured out on my life and continues to provide each morning is more than enough. I don't deserve it. I can't earn it. I simply accept it, this life-giving mercy. 

Reminds me of a song: 

Mercy is falling is falling is falling

Mercy is falling like a sweet spring rain

Mercy is falling is falling all over me 

What if I Stumble...

The other day I got the writing itch and picked up my journal. The result isn't a wonderful account of my recent ministry. Rather, it's an honest picture of the struggles I face, the mistakes I make and the ways I am in desperate need of the mercy, forgiveness and strength of my Savior. If you're still up for it, read on.

There are some aspects of this new life I live here in RO that cause me to question. I question myself. I question the human race. I even question my God; although I trust Him fully, I don't always understand His ways. Then I usually question myself again.

Nearly everyday I walk down the street from my apartment, headed out for the day, and I see a woman digging through the garbage. It's the same woman each time. She has a system, and it's a habit. Every time I walk by her I face this inward turmoil. I want to ask her name and find out how she ended up in this place. My heart longs to know her story. Part of my mind/heart inwardly face-palms every morning thinking: "I should bring her a sandwich and buy her a bottle of water." But I question my ability to speak to her and explain WHY in my broken Romanian. Horrid excuse! And I keep walking disgusted with myself. I walk on to my "ministry" for the day and walk right past the need.

What kind of selfish person am I, to decide it's too uncomfortable to reach out to her, someone in such obvious need. I just keep wondering about her life. Maybe she grew up her whole life like this, like those kids I see going around with their parents digging through dumpsters. OR, maybe she used to have enough. Maybe she was left, abandoned, rejected and now this is the only way she knows how to survive. I hate myself for not doing anything, for just walking by each day. I don't believe myself when I think: "maybe tomorrow..." What a wretched soul I am. God help me surrender my selfishness and let your love truly abide in me, so that when I see those needs, I WILL choose to help.

There's another woman who lives in my neighborhood. I see her limping along the sidewalks and sometimes on the tram. She has a prosthetic leg. She is well dressed and probably in her 50s. I've seen her carrying groceries home, limping along with a mixture of pain, pride and determination painted on her face. I want to ask if I can help her. I could carry her groceries. Yet, I don't want to offend her. I use the excuse that I'm still sorting out this culture that I feel is so stiff around strangers. Another horrid excuse!

Walking through the streets here often confuses me. In this city people walk around without acknowledging one another. When you pass someone in the street, it is unusual to smile or say hello. Sometimes people stare, but they're just looking. It's different if you know someone, but largely people walk around with blank faces, as if they were the only people on the sidewalk. People sit on the tram and ride across town without saying a word or even smiling to the people beside them.

I'm from small town Kansas. We wave and smile at EVERYONE! When you drive by someone you usually wave, or at the very least raise an index finder in salut. We say friendly hellos as we walk down the sidewalk, even to people we've never seen before. However, my "normal" is strange here. There are days though, that I walk down the street and the challenge, "treat everyone you meet today like Jesus" pops into my head. That usually zaps me out of my tunnel vision and back into reality. I start seeing REAL people around me. I sometimes smile or say hello. Yes, I get weird looks. No, they don't always smile back. Yet, when I begin to think how Jesus treated the people He met while walking on this earth, I wake up.

I'm still figuring things out here. I'm still confused some days. I'm still learning. Through it all I'm so thankful for my Savior who walks these streets with me. I'm thankful that His mercy is great enough to forgive me when I walk by and do nothing. I'm thankful that He will keep working in me until I DO help those people He has placed in my path.

There's nothing about me that's perfect or even good. The only good in me is from Jesus. Living here has revealed my selfish nature. I'm desperate for the forgiveness of my Savior. I long for the Holy Spirit to abide in my and create in me something that might honor my Heavenly Father.  So, here I am: a broken, selfish girl who is loved by a perfect Savior. I don't deserve it. I can't earn it, but He loves me. No matter how much I mess up, He will never forsake me. So, I'll keep running back to Him, asking Him to teach me how to love my neighbor as myself and how to love Him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength.

Language Success Stories!

Recently I've had quite a few language success stories while out and about in the city. I must be starting to look like I belong since so many people random people are asking me questions/directions. So, while I'm sure the epic fail and foot-in-mouth stories are still to come, here's language success story time:

The River that runs through the middle of Oradea.

Sitting at the tram station waiting for the the tram to head all the way across town. I knew I would be on the tram for a while, so I had gotten out my iPod and headphones. I was also reading a book on said iPod via Kindle app. In other words: I was in my own little world, being quite the American! At some point I realized a lady was trying to talk to me, I popped out the earbuds to see what she was saying. The lady repeated her question, asking if the 3R tram had already come. I responded in my broken Romanian that no, it had not come yet. Then I apologized and told her I am still learning Romanian. She encouraged me that I was doing well. Then she asked if I was German. I told her I was actually American. I didn't know how to tell her that I do have German heritage and a very German last name. In the end I still felt good about being able to communicate with her.

Another time I was sitting on a bench in the park. A man was sitting on the other side of the bench and after a little while, he asked me a question. His speech was a bit muddled, I asked him to repeat what he said, but I still wasn't catching it. I tried the whole, I only speak a little Romanian excuse. He was persistent. After a moment or two he tried again. By this time I had caught of whiff of his breath which was definitely tinted with alcohol. He kept holding out his phone. Eventually, I figured out that he was waiting for his daughter, who was supposed to be coming on the tram. He wanted to call her and see where she was at. He asked me to find her name, Mihiela, in his phone so that he could call her. Once I figured out what he wanted I was able to find her name in the phone and help him out. He was very appreciative and after a couple more minutes, his daughter showed up. Pretty sure that understanding slurred Romanian bumps me up to a whole new level of understanding! (P.S. for all you worrisome types: I was in a very public, very safe place on a Sunday afternoon, no danger in this story for you to worry over!)

One evening I was walking along near the train station when a mother and daughter asked if I was from Oradea. Without really thinking, I responded "yes," since I do live here. They were looking for a hotel. I did happen to know the hotel they were seeking and was able to confirm that they were on the right path and just needed to keep going straight. In this instance, my response was so quick that I hardly realized what I was saying. Afterward, I was thinking: "Wait what did I say? Was that right? I guess so, cause they understood." They also asked if it was far away and I was able to assure them that it wasn't far. Sometimes I shock myself with my ability to respond in Romanian without translating in my head for EVERY word.

A couple days ago, when I was out in the Roma village that I visit a couple times a week, I was pleasantly surprised with how much Romanian I was speaking. There was a visitor from the States who only knew a couple words in Romanian as well as an American who just recently moved here and I found myself translating for them. I'm much more able to translate Romanian into English than the inverse. However, I was able to help them ask questions and get to know the people a little better. I was also having more conversations with the friends I'm making in the village. At one point I was talking with a mother and daughter about cats and dogs. They had some kittens and were eager to show me. However, I'm really a dog person. We were talking about the difference between cats and dogs and then I was telling them about the dog I used to have at home. The mother then responded that she had a little dog too. The daughter was instantly confused, asking: "What dog? Where? I jumped in saying that it was "imaginary"and we all had a good laugh. While this may seem like a simple moment, it carried great meaning for me. I often think of something funny I would like to add to a conversation, but don't know the right word, or just miss my moment while sorting out the "Romglish" in my head. So, this moment was encouraging for me. I was quick and able to beat someone to the punch, definite language success. I'm now adding cracking jokes into my list of Romanian language abilities (however, premature that may be.)

This & That

Currently.... 

Reading:  Just finished a book called "Captive In Iran" about two Iranian, Christian women who were imprisoned in Evin Prison for their faith in Christ. They wrote an honest, transparent account of their time in prison and shared many stories about the people they met along-the-way.

Listening: Jenny & Tyler, Harvest Bashta, Judah & The Lion, & Elenowen

Missing: Oh boy (this list could be really long)...  going to my little brother's baseball games with my family,  my "nephew," Shepherd's first birthday,  my favorite running buddy-Laura,  big-juicy-grilled-homegrown steak, and Sonic limeades.

Enjoying: My new apartment, especially having my own kitchen to cook/bake in whenever I want. Long runs on rainy days. Fresh fruits and veggies from the little market down the street. The sun staying up til after 9pm.

Looking Forward to: My roommate arriving from America in 9 days! Running with Sarai in the mornings. Getting to know all the summer volunteers at Beauty from Ashes. Spending more time in Sabolciu (Roma village).

Appreciating: Feeling better after being sick. My wonderful neighbors: Ema, Alex & Ania. Great landlords that love our Lord and are gracious and helpful. My Church family. The grace of my Savior!

Planning: a Bible study, kids clubs, to buy a bicycle, to learn more Romanian, to see God at work in mighty ways this week!

Hoping: to get out of the city & go hiking, to find a vehicle to buy, to go hammock hangin' in the park, to find people to play basketball with, to go to IKEA

Hearing from God:

"Abide in Me" 

Şase Luni - Six Months!!!

June first marks six months since I moved to Romania! In some ways I can't believe it has already been six months. In other ways I can't believe all that has happened in the last six months. Looking back on this time there has been...

the expected and unexpected

a big black eye!

joy and pain

Sittin in the ER waiting room

struggle and growth

learning to love and live with 7 girls who grew up without families

confusion and clarity

moments of pondering how such incredible beauty
is paired with such deep pain

new experiences and embarrassing moments 

going snow skiing for the first time
and falling on my butt ALOT!

Romanian, English and Romglish

Ania and I speak Romglish quite often!

Old friends and new friends

Kelly, my apartment-mate from my first trip to RO

Friends, coworkers and people I now see as family

Jen, my roommate for almost 4 months

tears and laughter

Emily & I laughing on my birthday!

I have yelled in frustration; I have sang for joy. I have loved and I have torn down. I have asked for forgiveness and I have forgiven. I have ran from chaos in search of peace; I have stood among the chaos and found the peace of God. I have been a listening ear; I have needed a listening ear. I have laid in my bed sick and tired; I have ran, hiked and danced with energy to spare. I have held, hugged & loved hungry children, both young and old; I have needed hugs and encouragement myself. I have stepped out in faith; I have held back in fear. Through it all I have been blessed by a Father who never leaves my side and somehow uses some of my mess for His good purposes.

This has been a time of great paradox. It seems life is full of polar opposites. Just when I feel at home here, I miss someone desperately from home. I'm so thankful I was warned of this paradox in my training at MTI... that "pair-of-ducks" stuff was right-on. The "Yay Duck" and "Yuck Duck" have definitely made their presence known in the last six months. While it has often felt like a roller coaster of emotions, I have definitely held onto the positives and used them to help me ride-out the valleys.

I am definitely a glass-half-full kinda girl and I like to look for the positives in every situation and every person. For every negative I like to match it with at least one positive truth. It's a way, not only to keep myself positive, but to keep the conversations around me positive. I remember my mom teaching me something as a kid. She said, "If people around you are gossiping about someone. The easiest way to change the conversation is to say something positive about the person they are talking about." She explained that confronting them about their gossip usually just makes them defensive and can even fuel the fire. However, saying something positive and true has a much greater power to change the conversation and tug at their heart without causing those defensive reactions. My Mom also displayed this truth and how it could go above and beyond gossip. She helped me learn to look for the good in every situation. She was always telling me to stop whining and pointing out my blessings. (thanks Mom, you're the best!)

I've found the wisdom my mom shared to be true in many circumstances: in conversations about people, culture and life. Speaking positive truths holds the power to sway a conversation, a mood or a whole day. Sometimes, this can mean speaking truths over my thought life. If our God IS truth, then speaking truth over our thoughts is inviting God to cover them. Filtering our thoughts and words through God's truth can really help clear our vision.

So, as I reflect on my first six months living in another country I'm reminded of my need to abide in my Savior. I'm remembering the joys & struggles, while looking forward to many more in the next six months, and beyond. I know God has been working here and I trust Him to continue; my prayer is that He would choose to use me in His work here. I want to be a part of sharing His love, hope & truth and bringing glory to the Lord of All Creation alongside the people of Romania! Thankfully, my Savior is in the habit of using the least likely of candidates.

I also want to say thank you to all the family, friends, supporters, churches and church family both at home in America and here in Romania. I wouldn't be here without all of YOU! Thank you for encouraging me, praying for me and blessing me beyond my wildest imagination. I cannot tell you how much you all mean to me. I often get the chance to share with my friends here in Romania how great all of my family, friends and church family are back home (in other words, I brag about how awesome you all are, a lot!) I am also constantly amazed that God has so richly blessed me with friends and family here in Romania. I wouldn't survive living so far from home without the blessing of friends who make me feel right at home here too! I don't know why God has blessed me so much, but heck, I'm grateful. I hope I can use that blessing and turn around and bless others, for this blessing is not mine to hoard.

~Daughter of the King