Walk it Out

When you live in a big city full of small spaces, your feet must quickly adjust to a life of walking. A native Texan, I am not accustomed to walking and climbing; most things are flat, and if I need to go somewhere I’ll drive myself, thank you very much. Those traits don’t translate to this side of the pond, however, and walking has become a kind of constant companion of mine.

Feet.

At first, having to walk everywhere is an absolute nuisance and the cause of sore feet and legs. Eventually, though, the body becomes used to the idea and, as an added perk, might even drop a few pounds. Once you get past the nuisance phase, you appreciate all the unique opportunities walking presents.

I never fully understood what people meant when they said walking was a great way to pray. Prayer walking always sounded like a great thing to do, but I assumed my attention span was too short for it to work for me. Wrong again. If anything, having to walk everyone has given me the opportunity to pray even more throughout the day. Instead of always plugging in my iPod, I’ll tune-in with God. Whether it’s the people who are passing me, the class I’m headed for, or just telling Him how much I love Him…it’s such a great chance to spend time with Him! I should probably stop talking so much, though, and listen more…

Purple shoes and tiny dog. Win.

I do plug in my iPod sometimes, though. It makes long tube rides go by so much faster, and adds a little bounce to my step. Seriously, if you’ve never tried walking around a big city while listening to music…try it. Whether it’s Lenny Kravitz, Colbie Caillat, Ke$ha or Keith Urban it will change the way you move. Everything starts to seem just a little more exciting, more dramatic. I feel like it gives me a little boost of confidence, and I think it shows. The best is listening to praise music. As I walked home the other night “Our God” by Chris Tomlin came on. Walking down the streets of London, listening to those lyrics, I was overwhelmed by a sense of God’s power and love. It was such a marvelous moment.

Not all walking moments are great, however. Like any other thing in life there will be good and there will be bad. Today threw me something of a curve ball. As I was walking to class, I noticed a guy turn around and look my way. I assumed he was trying to find his way and was looking at the street sign or house numbers (he had sunglasses on, so I couldn’t tell for sure). It was one of those things you’re aware of in the peripheral sense, not giving it your full attention. A few steps later, however, he was by my side and asking me where I was from.

British Museum has it right.

I, still assuming he was looking for something, told him I was from the states but lived nearby. He then asked me how long I would be here. Weird. I think it was at this point that scenes of Liam Neeson in “Taken” started flashing through my mind. I said I was leaving in December, letting trepidation leak into my voice. After confirming that I was here studying, this guy (whose name I never actually learned) asked if I’d be interested in getting drinks sometime. He lived right by Harrods, he assured me, as if that would seal the deal. After making it clear I didn’t want his number, nor was I comfortable giving him mine, and that I really did need to get to class I walked away.

It occurred to me that if a Jake Gyllenhall-esque figure had tried the same thing, my response might have been different. But then I assured myself that Jake Gyllenhall would handle the whole thing much more smoothly, with more charm and less creepy. So, moral of the story: guys, don’t approach random girls on the street unless you are absolutely sure you can do so without coming off as a creep. Girls, don’t agree to go out with total strangers you meet on the street. Everyone, walking everywhere dramatically increases your chances of adding good stories to your repertoire.

So here’s a challenge: go walk. Pray, listen to music, look people in the eye, it doesn’t really matter what you do. There’s a reason God put us on this earth with feet, not cars. Give it a try and I think you’ll see what I mean. Happy trails!

Listen to the wise wall.

Week in Review

It has been way too long since I’ve last posted. My apologies, because that means this is going to be a pretty darn long one. But it’s going to be filled with oodles of interesting stories! Let’s get started…

I spent last Monday morning wandering around the Natural History Museum, conveniently located right next to my residence. I am not a science person, so I wasn’t expecting to be terribly interested in the museum’s collections. I was very, very wrong. I walked into this massive 19^th century building and my mouth literally dropped open. The very architecture of the building bespoke the focus of the museum; stone monkeys climbed the arches, leaves and fossils stood out in relief from the stone moldings. I’ve never been in a museum where the building was truly part of the collection itself, that echoed the collections it held within its walls. It was marvelous.

I spent two hours meandering through its halls, and it wasn’t nearly long enough. When I got to the space and earth exhibits, I got a little tear in my eye, wishing my dad was there to see it all with me. There have been many things over here that made me wish I had one person or another to share in the experience with. But I’m making a list, keeping track of all of those places so that one day I can see it all again with the people I love.

The next day I went with a class to tour Parliament. While our tour guide seemed a bit amateur, turning his back to us while he was talking and not really projecting his voice, the building itself was beautiful enough to make up for it. The experience of standing in a building in which history itself happened is unique and marvelous. I stood in the room where England passed The Stamp Act, an action that had catastrophic consequences for the upstart colonies across the pond. Awesome.

Thursday Brittany and I woke up early to trek across the city to Fleet River Bakery, another spot on our long list of coffee shops. Oddly enough, I’m not going to tell you about it here. That day I became aware of how much space coffee takes up in my blog posts, and what a hobby it was all turning into. I therefore decided to start a new blog devoted entirely to this marvelous drink, and my continual quest to discover new places to find it. Check it out here: littlecupofheaven.blogspot.com.

Friday I went to the National Portrait Gallery with another one of my classes. It is such a marvelous museum and truly unique in its collections. All of its artwork is portraiture (duh), which may sound boring to some…but those portraits tell a wonderful story of centuries of history. Who were these people? Why were they important? Were they important? What does their portrait say about them? What does it not say? Ironically, this art museum has more history in it that some history museums.

Later that day I went to a Turkish mosque and restaurant with my Islam and the West class. It was a truly unique experience. All of the girls were asked to bring along a scarf in order to cover their heads upon entering the mosque. As I pulled the scarf over my hair, I realized it was the first time I’ve ever been treated differently for the sole reason of my gender. Instead of being angry, as I might have thought, it only made me very aware of myself, and the differences between myself the men around me. While I don’t think any woman should have to cover their head or face against their will, I think I have a new appreciation for it. Rather than hiding the fact that they are women, that action draws attention to it. It’s a situation that is now a little greyer in my eyes, and a little less black and white.

Saturday a group of us from Baylor spent the day in Oxford. It was absolutely marvelous. I am totally infatuated with the city now, with its winding streets, quiet college grounds, and beautiful architecture. It’s another one of those places that has a small town feel to it, even though it is a proper city. I want to go back and discover even more about it, because I’m sure there is plenty more to be found.

And so you are brought, pretty much, up to date with my life. Today I slept in and spent the morning working on the new coffee blog. Later tonight I’ll be taking an ‘espresso course’ at a coffee shop called Kaffiene…I’ll learn about tapping, pulling shots, latte art and who knows what else. I am so so excited for it. Check out Little Cup of Heaven to find out how it goes!

In other news, I now know where my internship will be! I’ll be working at the Museum of the Order of St. John; check out their website if you’ve got the time: museumstjohn.org.uk/. I think it will turn out to be a perfect fit, and that is just one more reason I’m so happy right now. God has been so incredibly good and faithful in giving me so many things to love and be excited about here. I prayed that I would come to the place where I truly wanted to be here, thinking it was hopeless. Somewhere along the way, without my really knowing it, He answered that prayer in a big, big way. It’s enough to make me wonder why I ever doubt Him…I know He is in my corner, that He is faithful in answering prayers, and yet I always find a reason to doubt whether or not He’ll come through.

This trip has already been an amazing thing. My relationship with God has become more dynamic and intimate, I’ve learned important lessons about myself, and I’ve had the opportunity to see and do so many fantastic things. And it has only been a month! What could the next two and half months have in store? I can’t wait to find out.

Miraculous Moments

For the first time, it’s really starting to feel like fall. I wore my leather jacket today to and from church and didn’t take it off once, even when the sun was shining. Maybe it’s because I went outside of the city yesterday, got to see some real nature, but that inexplicable shift has occurred when summer beings to fade away and the wonders of fall start to pop up. I love it. I love walking down the street, hugging my arms close against the cool air while breathing it deeply into my lungs. I love the leaves starting to change, and those that have already taken the plunge crunching beneath my feet as I walk. And I wish as I walk that I had a hand to hold, an arm to hug…but that’s a moment I’ll have to savor some other time.

Counting down the days.  91 till I again have access to amazing.

Yesterday we took a trip to Stonehenge and Bath. Both were really great stops, but I’m going to tell you a bit about the drive there first. While I appreciate and adore the various parks and gardens around the city, there’s something about being out in the true countryside. No buildings in sight, miles and miles of green, trees and fields…it’s wonderful. Forgive me for not taking any pictures as we drove; I wanted to savor every moment of it for myself. I got out my iPod about half way through the journey to Stonehenge and turned on my praise music playlist. “Miracle of the Moment” by Steven Curtis Chapman came on, a song I usually skip if I’m being honest (I have my favorites, and that just isn’t one of them). But I decided to let it play, and as it did I really focused on the lyrics. Go take a listen real quick: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rResKXjKqjQ.

For some reason, the lyrics really clicked. I became aware of the reality of God’s promise that He is always with me, and this was such a wonderful moment for the two of us. Everyone else on the bus was asleep, and as I looked out at the beautiful scenery I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I saw the trees, fields and clouds as His perfect creations. I knew without a doubt He had crafted this moment for us…no words, no sermon, just me and my God close and connected. I couldn’t help but smile, and even now tears spring to my eyes to think of the love I felt in that moment. It also made me realize the importance of living in the ‘here and now’. I am totally guilty of daydreaming about the way things were, the way I hope things will be, and the way things shouldn’t have been…so much so that I miss the miracle of God being with me right now. I’m not saying thinking about the future is bad, that daydreaming takes us away from God. I am saying that we have to be careful to not lose focus of the reality of the present, and how miraculous it truly is.

After that bus ride, I knew the rest of the day would be great no matter what. Stonehenge itself is a little…different than I thought it would be. Situated right by a highway with a fence all around the perimeter, it isn’t the isolated experience you think you’ll be getting. Nevertheless the weather was beautiful, and the rocks truly are amazing. To think of the people who would toil and suffer to place them there, that’s what really makes them outstanding. We didn’t stay long, though, which was probably a good thing considering it was freezing. The wind was whipping around and for the first time since I’ve been here I wished I’d worn more clothes. I couldn’t help getting a couple of postcards and a coffee mug (I collect them). Seriously, how many people have mugs from Stonehenge?

After another hour of driving we arrived in Bath, a city I (as a history nerd) have a significant interest in. The city and its healing waters have gone in and out of fashion over the years, but you can still feel a sense of haughty pride radiating from the buildings. It doesn’t hurt that it’s surrounded by some of the most beautiful countryside you’ve ever seen. Most people are familiar with Bath through Jane Austen; in her time it was a thriving marriage market for the middle class. Lucky for us, there was a Jane Austen festival going on that day, and we got to see people of all ages in period dress eagerly awaiting the ball that would occur later that evening. I can promise you I will be returning to Bath to take part in that particular event at some point in my life.

The Roman Baths are impressive and fascinating; 2000-year-old buildings covered by Georgian ones, all built for the same purpose of creating a place for the wealthy to receive the healing properties of the sulfur-rich waters. What I really loved, though, was the city itself. It has the feeling of a small ‘town’, and while there were plenty of people milling around its streets, it lacked the crushingly crowded feeling of London. It’s the type of city you wander around, unafraid of getting lost, in fact almost hoping you do. Brittany and I unknowingly ate in a pub that was frequented by Charles Dickens (don’t you just love England?). I hope we get the chance to go back to Bath. I think I only scratched the surface of a city with infinitely more to offer.

Today Brittany and I and several other girls from Baylor went to the American Church in London (ACL). While the service was more traditional than I’m used to or prefer, the sense of community and hospitality was overwhelming. Worship style and details of a service are personal preferences, and important in their ways, but I think the church was originally created for the purpose of fellowship and service. If I find a church that makes me feel like I’m part of a true community, and helps me serve the city I’m living in, I don’t need Chris Tomlin songs. I think we’ll visit a couple more, just to see, but I definitely felt at home at ACL.

I know this was a long one! But who really wants to read a blog about someone’s life who can fit their experiences into a single paragraph? Remember to live in the moment this week…the future will get here soon enough :)

Coffee and Love Affairs

If you’re wondering why I haven’t written in a few days…it’s because nothing has happened. I’m saying this to garner sympathy for my angst-filled life, either. I’ve literally spent my spare time on my bed, reading or sleeping. Not exactly the stuff exciting blog posts are made of. But, luckily, today was different!

Brittany and I decided to make a dent in our extensive list of coffee shops, part of our mutual quest to prove that, though it’s hard to find, there is good coffee here in London. We started with Tapped & Packed, conveniently located near the British Museum (our ultimate destination for the day). Tucked away down a back street, it’s a nice location to get away from the crushing crowds of nearby Oxford Street. The interior can be a little off-putting; stark and minimalistic décor isn’t much softened by the somewhat provocative art on the walls. Don’t get me wrong, I’d still come here with some friends to catch up, but it’s definitely not a ‘cozy up with a cup of coffee for hours’ kind of place. But cozy up with their coffee I most definitely would. Smooth, creamy, and just the right balance of espresso and milk = my cappuccino. Not to mention the Affogato, vanilla ice cream drizzled with a shot of espresso. Oh goodness. Their sandwiches were delicious as well, though the cupcake we shared left something to be desired. All in all, on a scale of 1-10… coffee: 8.5, atmosphere: 5.

After we left the British Museum (more on that later) we made a quick stop at Store Street Espresso. Also near the museum, this shop was snuggled back in a quiet and picturesque neighborhood. Their interior was light and airy, though still pretty minimalistic. More cheery than T&P, and I could see myself studying there, but still not the ‘home away from home’ place I’m looking for. We both ordered cappuccinos to go, wanting to savor them on our bus ride home. We were slightly disappointed, though. While they were creamy and winning in appearance, they were a bit bitter and had a less-than-appealing aftertaste. Not the worst coffee I’ve had here, not by a long shot, but nor was it a winner. Overall…coffee: 6, 

atmosphere: 6.5.

So maybe we didn’t find the shop of our dreams today, but we definitely discovered a place to get good coffee. And in the middle of it all, a love story began. I wasn’t expecting it, not given the overall atmosphere this trip has had so far. But the chemistry is simply undeniable. My life will never be the same, because I know in my heart of hearts we were made for one another.

I’m talking about the British Museum. Gotcha, didn’t I? 

Seriously though. I’m in love. It’s filled to the absolute brim with treasures (albeit it they were somewhat unscrupulously obtained) and those treasures are exhibited well. There is room to walk and breathe, admire and gawk. There is information on every item, and while it is huge, the organization is logical and obvious. I will be back many times, I’m sure, and I look forward to spending an entire day meandering around its marble halls.

I’m still not feeling 100%, but neither do I feel like death is hovering over my bed like a creepy little goblin. Hopefully I’ll be back in business by Saturday, when I’ll be venturing to Stonehenge and Bath! I’ll certainly have plenty to write about after those adventures, so be sure to check back. There’s still moments most days when I think of home, friends and family and wish I were there instead of here. But I remind myself that there are wonderful memories to be made here, lessons to be learned, and hopefully a thing or two to accomplish I may not know about yet. God has been so incredibly faithful it literally takes my breath away. He may not promise easy, but He does promise to be there. So many loves, but they all flow from the greatest love of all…His.

Double-decker buses = preferred mode of transportation.

The Space Between A and B

I have got to start writing more often, or else these posts will be the size of a Charles Dickens novel (and he’s really the only one who can pull that off). For now, though, I’ll use the excuse of being ill. I barely wanted to move from my bed, much less write about happier times when I could swallow painlessly and breathe through my nose. What started out as a sore throat on Saturday morning turned into a horrid sleepless night and blocked-up ears. I found a bit of adventure by deciding to see a doctor…my first ever visit to a foreign hospital! He says it’s a virus, I think it’s a sinus infection. I’m willing to wait a few days, though, and spend them hoping he’s right and I’m wrong.

On top of feeling like crap physically, I bottomed out emotionally. No one wants to be sick away from home. I wanted to be in my bed snuggled up next to my dog, my mom coming to check on me, and a slew of Pay-per-View movies waiting for me to watch them. Unfortunately, I don’t currently have access to any of those things. 5 a.m. Sunday morning found me sitting in the kitchen on my floor drinking hot tea (I had run out of throat lozenges) and crying to my mom over Skype. The positive attitude I’d kept up over the past few days had crumbled beneath the weight of exhaustion and illness. My mom said something at one point, though, that stuck with me through the next day…“God must have some plan for you, because you’re certainly facing obstacles left and right”.

I was on the tube, headed back home from the doctor, when the truth of that statement hit me. As I was on public transportation I could not say anything out loud, so I settled for an internal rant. To Satan: You know what, you can just keep it coming because I am NOT going anywhere. To God: You better have something planned I can do so we can tell this guy to shove it. It wasn’t my most eloquent moment in speaking to my Creator, but as stated in my previous post, He knows who He created…the things that come out of my mouth don’t really surprise Him. 

It’s truly miraculous when you think about it. God doesn’t need me here. His plan will succeed with or without my ‘help’. But I believe there is a reason I’m here, His reason I’m here. I think we as humans have a tendency to simplify God’s plans by assuming there is a Point A and a Point B. Veer from the path that connects the two and you’re a failure. But how could we ever believe God to be so simple? Our God is wonderfully complex. His plans can’t be derailed by humans or their numerous mistakes. I believe that as long as you are seeking Him will, working to glorify Him, you are within the bounds of His ‘plan’. We don’t have to be perfect, sometimes we don’t even have to be willing…but when that beautiful combination of desire and purpose comes around, true miracles can occur. And that’s what I’m hoping for.

Before I got sick, I got to see and do some pretty awesome stuff this week! Wednesday afternoon Brittany and I started what will hopefully become a weekly tradition of lunch at Montparnasse Café. We discovered it on the walk to the gym one day, and I remember hoping it would be somewhere I could make my ‘special secret place’. Wherever you are, but especially if you’re away from home, you should find somewhere to be your ‘special secret place’. It doesn’t have to be a true secret, it may not be that special to anyone but you…but you’ll know it when you find it. We both had Quiche Lorraine and it was absolutely delicious. I can’t wait to try their coffee and fruit tarts…I’m sure it will be a momentous day.

Thursday is another one of my days off, so Brittany and I decided to wake up early and go to Zumba at the gym. After looking sleepily at one another when our alarms went of, we silently decided that Zumba could wait until next week and promptly fell back asleep. Later we grabbed sandwiches, cupcakes and cappuccinos from Bea’s, one of the coffee shops on our considerable list. Verdict: pretty darn good. The sandwiches had a lot of flavor, and the cupcakes were moist and not too sweet. The cappuccinos were the right temperature (don’t you hate when you have to wait 20 minutes before you can drink your coffee?) and the foam was stiff and almost entirely bubble-free.

We downed our scrumptious lunches on the way to Buckingham Palace, where we had reserved spots on an afternoon tour. Unfortunately, pictures in the palace aren’t allowed. But if you’re ever in London when it’s open for showing, definitely make an effort to see it. The state rooms manage to retain the opulence from bygone ages while keeping one foot firmly in the here and now. We also got to see the dress. It was every bit as magical in person as it was over television, and the detail that went into the design was astounding.

Afterwards Brittany and I sat in Green Park and had a great Jesus talk while eating our cupcakes we’d stashed in my purse for later. It was, all-in-all, the best day I’ve had here so far. Friday I got to go to Greenwich (a part of town way the heck to the east of where I live). I loved the small-town feel to it, and fell for the open space and breeze off of the river. While my class got to have a taste of the National Maritime Museum, it’s definitely one I will be going back to savor.

And that, ladies and gents, is my life. I’m currently back in my bed, a giant box of ‘man-sized’ tissues beside me (they’re label description, not mine). I’m hoping I’ll start feeling better in the next couple of days, and will have even more to share. Until then, stay healthy and remember…there’s way more to life than Point A and Point B. 

Stick to the Source

Oh goodness, where to start. How about an emotional update? I’m going with the assumption that if you’re reading this in the first place you care in some way about my emotional and mental health. If that’s not true, you may see yourself out and have a good day!

Now then. I’ve been in a fit of frustration since I arrived in London. Initially the frustration had to do with my dreams of this trip fading away into a less-than-appealing reality. Eventually I became frustrated with my faith. I truly trusted that God had a plan and would see me through it, so why wasn’t I feeling at peace? Or happy? Granted, I was impatient to see where that plan would lead (patience isn’t one of my strong suits). I assumed, though, that if I was doing everything right I should be happy and ‘joyful’ and ready to go…that was not the case.

I became frustrated with God because I could not understand why I was still in this place of ‘in-between’. I want to be here…but I want to be home. I’m excited to see museums and parks…but I don’t feel excited. It was like my brain was sending out all of the right signals, but no other part of my body was receiving them. I was reading my books, listening to advice, trying to figure out what I was doing wrong when it hit me. Hit is a strong word, really it just kind of tapped me on the shoulder. I like those moments best. God taps you on the shoulder, ever so gently, and if you aren't seeking Him with all of your heart you may not feel it. I think the subtle things make a relationship so much more meaningful.

I was looking for God in books and friendly advice, and while He can be found there, I never looked to God Himself. I think I was scared to admit to Him directly how I was feeling. Disappointed, scared, frustrated, homesick…isn’t my faith supposed to be bigger than all of those things? But everything started to click together when I read Jeremiah 1:4-5, 8…“The word of the LORD came to me, saying, ‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations…Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,’ declares the LORD.”

God knows me. He knows every part of my mind, heart and soul better than even I ever will. He knows how weak I am, how frail my faith is…nothing that has happened in the past four days came as a surprise to Him. He doesn’t want me to run from Him (or around Him, as it were)…He wants me to run to Him, cry on His shoulder, give in to my weaknesses so He can lend me His perfect strength. I knew all of this; I guess I just forgot it somewhere along the way. I still get down, I still miss home (a lot), but anytime I get that feeling like I can’t do this I remember that verse in Jeremiah…“I am with you and will rescue you.” He’ll be with me through this, my friends and family will put up with me constantly Skyping, Facebooking and texting them (or at least I hope so…), and I’ll do all I can here to make every moment of this semester count.

Let’s move on to London stuff! Monday morning I woke up and spent a few hours wandering around the Victoria and Albert museum. The amount of stuff in there is mind-blowing…I’m not sure that’s a good thing, though. It was a little overwhelming, and I thought it was harder to connect with the stories behind the objects when there were so many of them. The jewelry room blew my mind, though. I would like to have a stern discussion with whoever decided women no longer enjoy wearing ridiculously large sparkly things. They were wrong. 

My favorite room was the Cast Hall. Apparently in the 19^th century museums would make life-size plaster casts of various architectural monuments all over the world. Travel wasn’t as easy, so it was a way for everyone back home to ‘see the world’. The room was filled with HUGE casts of amazing monuments (including Trajan’s Column from Rome). Overall verdict: not my favorite museum for content, though there are definitely cool things to see. The museum itself is beautiful, and the café is lovely. I could go here if I needed to get away for an hour or two.

I spent the afternoon wandering around Kensington Gardens. I only saw a small part of the park, but I instantly fell in love. In the middle of a bustling, stressed-out city is an area where Nature rules, utterly unaware that civilization has sprung up around it. I sat, observed, took creeper pictures of people without their knowledge and absorbed the beauty of the day. I can’t wait to see what the other parks have to offer. I have no doubt they will be just as magical.

Today was the first day of classes! I am so glad to finally have a set schedule and things to do. I don’t do well with so much free time…how do you appreciate it if it’s all you’ve got? I loved the class I had today, British Life and Cultures. I’ve already learned so much, but I’m not intimidated or stressed out by the workload, which is exactly how I think school should be (hint hint Great Texts department). Afterward I had a semi-lazy afternoon, reading for class and hanging out with Jesus (much needed, as you read above).

Brittany…have I told you about Brittany? She is lovely, one of my three roommates. I can already tell she’s going to be a real blessing while I’m here. Anywho, Brittany and I walked to the gym we both have memberships at whilst (such a British word) we’re here. Google Maps told me a quick way to get to the gym by cutting through back streets…and I’m so glad we did. We discovered a lovely walk filled with shops and bakeries we will surely re-visit, a beautiful park (unfortunately it’s one of those silly private ones), and small moments of blissful quiet. And I saw the first daschund I’ve seen since I’ve been here; my heart broke a little, but in a kinda good way. I can’t wait to walk the same path and take oodles of picture.

So now you’re all caught up! Thanks for sticking with what turned out to be a pretty lengthy blog. I wish I had some profound sentiment to end on this time…but, on second thought, I’m kind of glad I don’t.

 :)

Things I Learned From Colbie Caillat

As I opened up Word just now, I started to think about how I should start this post. “What Means the Most” by Colbie Caillat came on, and the lyrics seemed to echo exactly what has been in my heart. (This is the segment of the program when you go check out the song before continuing to read what will surely be a brilliant blog post. Look, I’ll even make it easy for you…http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pJ1HPD432s. Bam. No excuses now.)

As we grow older, we tend to learn more and more about who we are. The lessons are usually subtle, and if you aren’t looking for them they’re quite easy to miss. It’s my opinion that you are less likely to ‘find yourself’ hiking up a mountain to a monastery in China or India, and more likely to make that discovery amidst the ordinary activities of your everyday life. The past two years have taught me more about myself than I thought was even possible to learn. If we learn about who God is through His creation, you must look no further than your own heart or mind to realize how complex He is.

So what does this have to do with Colbie Caillat? Great question! This adventure in London has already taught me something that never quite clicked in my brain before now. I’ve always been a dreamer (that shouldn’t come as a surprise to those of you who know me). But my dreams have always involved me…and no one else. Rarely does something plant itself in my mind that involves others as a crucial part of the plan. Does that make me selfish? Maybe. I’ll psychoanalyze that part of it later. In addition to being a dreamer, I have always been independent. Usually an admirable trait, my independence has kept certain people at a distance, stopped me from depending on anyone else…it’s a hard truth to swallow that our strengths can easily become our weaknesses.

So here’s the point: my independence caused me to dream of things for my life that only involved myself. I never considered that those dreams wouldn’t be all I wanted if I didn’t have those I love around me. Back to Colbie Caillat (you thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you?). I now know what means the most to me. It’s the part of the dream I didn’t plan for, that I now see as absolutely essential. God has to be a part of every one of my dreams…He has to be the center of every one of my dreams. And I need the people I love around me. I think the reason I spend so much time on Skype and Facebook is because I want them to be a part of this, even if it’s over a Wi-Fi connection. So maybe this London trip won’t be all I dreamed it would be, but at least I’ve learned how to dream.

Enough with the introspection, though. I’m in London, and no matter what I’m feeling, I can still appreciate all that I am finally getting to see. I met up again with Laura yesterday at Harrods. Oh. My. Gosh. Picture that quintessential candy counter, an old-fashioned food market (back when people cared how they looked when they went to get groceries), extravagant floor after extravagant floor of clothes, handbags and furniture, a lovely and addicting ice cream parlor, a wine cellar that would make any true aficionado weep with joy, and elevators that take you to Egypt with their decor…all rolled into one. Like I said. Oh. My. Gosh.

Before that life-changing experience I got to see London by coach (that’s a bus for you silly Americans). Our tour guide was simply fabulous. A small woman in her fifties with orange-red hair, she wore a long bright blue dress and over-sized jewelry. Oh how I wish I had been able to record every word that came out of her mouth, because she made me laugh. “Be careful of pickpockets here, this is the tiger zone. If they do get your money, for goodness sake don’t let the bastards get away with it.” “The young, just-out-of-school guys work here. They don’t have any reputation to protect so they can risk it all, and they’re usually fabulously wealthy. They’re the ones you want to meet in the pubs.” So great.

And this morning I went to Hillsong Church London. I loved getting to be in a theatre packed with people who love the Lord, singing at the top of their lungs, hands raised…it was a wonderful experience. The speaker was good, though not amazing. It did help to strengthen my trust in the Lord, and my belief that He will lead me through any trial I may face…including this one. But just because God can lead us through something, does that mean He must? If there’s a pothole in the middle of the rode with a thin piece of plywood covering it, why drive over the plywood if you can simply go around? Maybe there’s something to be learned from the plywood, who knows.

So here’s to learning, overly extravagant stores and potholes…they certainly keep life from being boring

 
         

Hoping for a Home Run

I wanted my first entry to be about soulmates and this once-in-a-lifetime trip to London…but sometimes life throws you a curveball.

            After 9 hours on a plane, customs and baggage claim, dragging around 100 pounds in luggage and carrying said luggage up six flights of stairs, I was completely exhausted. But I couldn’t sleep. All of this went down before 2 in the afternoon, and I had to adjust to a new time schedule. Super. Somewhere in that epic journey, my perspective on the whole experience changed without my even being aware of it. When did I stop being excited and start doubting if I could actually do this? How did I not see it coming?

            I spent the majority of the day crying and on the phone with my parents, feeling like a failure and disappointed. My dream had somehow become a nightmare, and the experience I’d always imagined seemed impossibly out of reach. Anxiety started balling up in my chest, and it was all I could do to fend off a full-blown panic attack. I knew exhaustion was partly to blame, but that didn’t stop the thought running through my head: I can’t do this, I just want to go home.

            At this point, you might be expecting something like…but then, a guy who looked remarkably like Hugh Grant found me crying. He was enormously comforting as well as charming. We had dinner, he restored my faith in all of my dreams and we are now totally in love. And he loves Jesus. Well, unfortunately, that’s not what came next (believe me, I’m disappointed too).

            I did, however, wake up a little less miserable and with a little more hope in my heart. Orientation meetings about all I’ll experience this semester caused a stirring in my stomach…could that be excitement I’m feeling?  I met up with a wonderful friend from home (that’s you Laura Palmer!), had a good lunch and finally got to see some good ol’ fashioned historical monuments. Now, as I’m sitting on my bed typing this, my feet are killing me and I can’t wait to take a nap…but I’m no longer planning my escape route.

            There’s still a part of me that wants to cut and run; returning home to spend the semester working on my reading list and clocking time at a Barnes and Noble isn’t an unappealing idea. I had a year of college that was filled with crying, anxiety and heart-wrenching misery; it isn’t something I have a great desire to go through again. But that year also gave me a roommate who became one of the best friends I’ve ever had. I formed relationships that have grown and changed in spite of the distance On top of it all my relationship God was utterly transformed. Would I do it all again? Abso-freaking-lutely.

            Maybe this semester will turn out to be like that year at W&L, maybe it won’t. I am sure of one thing though, God did this for a reason. All things that come our way must first go through His hands, and “He holds success in store for the upright; He is a shield for those whose walk is blameless, for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of His faithful ones” (Proverbs 2:7-8). My prayer at the beginning of this year was for a fire for Him, a deep and all-consuming relationship with Him, and an absolute conviction of His love and glory. He has been answering that prayer every single day since then, and I sincerely doubt He has suddenly stopped.

            Go home, stay here, crying or laughing, God is with me in this. I feel as if I have all of the tools I need to deal with what’s ahead, but they’re on the other side of a river. I’m stuck and desperate, unsure what to do or which way I should go. But God is the boat that will get me across, teaching me and guiding me every step of the way.

            This blog was supposed to be about travel, London and my semester abroad. But sometimes life throws you a curveball. How lucky am I that I have God as a coach, a god who will help me to hit that sucker out of the park. There will be bases to get around, a whole team of opponents working against me, but in the end I have the assurance that my coach will lead me exactly where I need to be…home.