A Wee Adventure April 19, 2009

Speaking of going out of my comfort zone, I took a little jaunt even further outside last week when I went on holiday to Ireland and Sweden.  On my way to Ireland I was thinking, “What the heck am I doing?”  I was taking two planes to get there, only to be greeted by a friend I haven’t seen in 2 ½ years, a guy I knew for a summer while working at camp together.  When I last saw Jamie, he was an athletic, outgoing, warm-hearted 19-year old.  A few weeks after he returned to the U.K. he broke his back playing rugby and is now confined to a wheelchair.  What would that be like?  Everything about the trip was a huge unknown and I wondered if I should have stayed back at Grimerud and had a safe and koselig little Easter holiday there.

 

But, yet again, God surprised me!  Looking back it seems to me that He wanted to give me that trip to Ireland as a little gift, wrapped up in emerald paper and smelling of the sea.  Jamie and I had so much fun together, and his parents were amazing, generous, hospitable people.  Every morning I got up before Jamie and had breakfast with his parents, having great long talks with his mom. 

 

On Easter Sunday we went to his church where I was greeted so warmly and we rocked the house celebrating that Jesus is alive, complete with dancing and party poppers.  We hung out in Belfast and saw Fifty Dead Men Walking, a film about The Troubles in Ireland that was totally violent but really interesting and helped me get an idea of what was going on in the country only a few decades ago.  I drank a half-pint of Guiness in a real Irish pub with copper kettles hanging from the ceiling and dozens of people singing along to old Irish songs. 

 

My favorite day was when we drove up to the North Coast of Northern Ireland with Jamie’s sweet friend Jenny Lee and toured a castle that made me feel like Lucy in Prince Caspian, exploring the ruins of Cair Paravel. We marveled at the natural beauty of Giant’s Causeway and couldn’t get over the amazing weather as we waited to cross the Carrick-a-rede rope bridge.  We took the train down to Dublin with Jenny Lee and Jamie’s friend Steven and had a great time despite crap weather, and spent the afternoon in a heated theological discussion (love it) in Temple Bar. 

 

I had the best tea of my life every day, and I loved how when I ordered tea at a café they always gave a whole teapot – two cups for the price of one!  I loved hearing Irish accents everywhere – the low, soothing tone; the lilting rhythm of it; the way they really do say “wee” all the time…even the guys! 

 

Hanging out with Jamie again was so cool, and not only because he’s totally fun and hilarious.  Jamie’s unshakable belief in God’s promises was an absolute inspiration to me.  He’s in an awful situation but is not pitying himself.  Instead he is going on with his life and always believing that Jesus will heal him and he will walk again.  I was so moved by his faith, and so humbled when I thought of how I would respond in such a situation – probably crying and sighing a lot and feeling bitter toward God and everyone else.

 

Of course I left Jamie a little thank you note before I left, but in case he ever reads this blog, I just want to say, Thank you Jamie.  You were an amazing host and I had a fantastic time.  You are welcome back to California any time. 

 

But mostly, I just want to thank my Father, God, for yet again surprising me with a little gift, just another dream come true from His heart to mine.  He totally patiently leads me out of my comfort zone to experience His love and be astounded by it in new ways.

Dunluce Castle on the North Coast (aka ruins of Cair Paravel)

Me and Jamie.  Near Giant’s Causeway.  Do you see the camel in the mountain between us?

Jenny Lee and I at Giant’s Causeway.  Those “cobblestones” are naturally formed!

In Dublin with Jamie and his friend Steven (who started said heated theological discussion).  They filmed a scene from “Once” in this park.

Queen’s University in Belfast, Northern Ireland

The Temple Bar in Temple Bar, where, due to an unfortunate misunderstanding, I was bought a Coors Light instead of a Stella.  Boo.

Report From Outside My Comfort Zone April 18, 2009

 

 

“Somebody once said, ‘Everything you want in the world is just right outside your comfort zone. Everythingyoucouldpossiblywant!’”

–Jennifer Aniston

Vogue, December 2008

 

I know what you’re thinking.  Joy abandons her blog for a month and then comes back with a quote from Jennifer Aniston?  Bear with me, though.  I can’t exactly remember when I first read this quote, but I think it was when I was at the airport in Oslo back in January, killing time before our flight to Germany for a two month outreach.  I knew I was headed for 9 weeks of being completely out of my comfort zone, so I took her words seriously as a little shot of hope to help me make the flight without wanting to jump out somewhere over Amsterdam. 

This whole 8 months in Europe has been a constant string of moments, large and small, outside my comfort zone.  And when you first get out there, you feel like you’re trying to walk around underwater. It’s no fun.  But now I feel like I’m almost accustomed to being out of my comfort zone…to that anxious fluttery sensation in my chest as I enter into another unknown, potentially awkward situation.  The meeting of new people, the adapting to new cultures, the learning of new words, the discipline of keeping one’s self in the moment instead of checking out and going on autopilot as a coping mechanism.  Now I feel I’ve figured out how to hold my breath longer and move a little more gracefully in the murky waters of new, uncomfortable situations.  I’m no expert, that’s for sure.  But I think I do a better job than I ever have at least appearing to be confident and to have fun.

Now the question is: in these 8 months outside my comfort zone, have I found everything I want in the world?  Well, yes and no.  The only reason I say no is because of the incredible drought I have experienced this year when it comes to guys.  I mean, seriously…I think I’ve gone months without seeing one man I am even remotely attracted to, not to mention a guy that I might actually be interested in (and, it must be said, the reverse is true.  It’s been a while since I’ve had to turn someone down).  So, I would like to meet someone, and that didn’t happen in my comfort zone or outside of it.

But.  A husband is definitely not the only thing I want in the world, or even one of the most important things.  I really have found so many things that I’ve wanted, and so much more.  I really can’t explain it, but when I came back from outreach for our DTS debrief week, and was back together with all the students from the school, it was like all the pieces fell into place for me and I could see the big picture of this time in Europe.  The first few days I would get all emotional and teary just being in the same room as all the students – the beauty of these individuals, of what they bring to the group, of the transformation God did in each of them over 6 months – it was too much to take. 

And on top of all of that, to think of what God has done in me these past months!  The ways He’s showed me more of who He is, and how it is constantly more beautiful than I could have dreamed…the security in my relationship with Him that I’m moving into, knowing that I’m His and that His joy is upon me…finally beginning to understand that God is good and He can be trusted!  These truths are worth so much more than all the things I could ever want in this world. 

Oh, and on top of it – the rich relationships I’ve enjoyed here with people from all over the world, the feeling of love and safety and belonging and people really valuing me enough to invest their time and resources in me – sometimes I feel like I don’t have enough arms to hold all of these gifts, enough heart to be as thankful as I want to be.

I guess, in conclusion, I’d have to say I agree with Jen…or the “somebody” she was quoting.  Now the question is, when I move back to Southern California, how can I keep pushing myself outside of my comfort zone?  But I’m not too worried about it.  Opportunities tend to pop up; I just need to say yes, hold my breath, and dive in.

Guest Book March 10, 2009

We’re staying at a YWAM base in Bavaria that’s called Hurlach castle…because it’s actually a castle, in a little village called Hurlach.  Last night I was reading through the guest book in our room, and amid the normal sappy, thank-you-for-your-generous-hospitality-we-felt-at-home-here entries, I found this gem:

December 22 2005

I am here at Hurlach Castle.  I have dreamed of coming here.  I was conceived here 26 years ago and born down the street.  [...] There is a completion felt as I sit here and a start of something new.  [...] I hope to own this castle someday and keep it running.  [...] I am in awe.  I am in a dream.  I’m living a dream.  Thank you.

Signed.

Is it just me, or is that totally awesome?  I laughed out loud.  I hope I didn’t just break some code of ethics by plagiarizing somebody’s guest book entry in the blogosphere.  Whatever.  I hope it made you laugh…especially the part about how he was conceived here.  Hee.

The Power of Two March 2, 2009

I have to be honest here.  Two posts back I wrote about my amazing adventurous years of traveling and how I’m so glad I’ve done it and blah blah blah.  And that is true.  But, what I didn’t mention, is that solo travel kind of sucks.  It’s good in a way – I think it’s toughened me up and softened me and thickened my skin and rounded my edges and all of those things.  It’s made me fiercely dependent on God because what else can you do when you end up in a foreign country all alone?  And I’ve had some great times and met great people, but let me tell you something: my trip to Europe with my friend Allison and my trip to Israel with my sister Sarah were hands down my favorite travel experiences of my life.  They were infinitely more enjoyable, and maybe even more meaningful.  Why?  Because it’s always about the people.  And when I gazed on the Eiffel Tower for the first time as she lit up in the Parisian twilight, I had one of my best friends in the world next to me.  When I danced on a boat on the Sea of Galilee, my sister was right there, celebrating our heritage with me.

The crappy part about traveling alone is that, really, you only get half the experience.  It’s like light ice cream.  Yeah, it’s still cold and sweet and pretty good, but it’s not the same as a scoop of creamy gelato on a freshly made waffle cone.  Something about the texture is not quite right.  And you don’t remember light ice cream.  But I can still remember the Tiramisu gelato I ate in Florence three years ago.  When you travel alone, you come back and all of the glorious things you’ve seen, all of the people you’ve met, the sensations you’ve experienced…they sit hidden in your heart and burning a hole in it.  Everyone wants to see pictures when you get home, but after five shots they’re bored and want you to just jump back into the same stream of life everyone’s swimming in.  You must pack away your memories on a little shelf and be content to take them out again sometimes when you’re alone, admiring them a little before putting them back in their dusty corners.  But when you shared that experience with someone you love, with someone you still share life with, then the two of you can go into that little memory room every few months or years, and take out your favorites and hold them up to the light, exclaiming over their beauty just like you did when they were new.

So yes, I’m thankful for all my opportunities to travel, but I don’t want to travel alone anymore.  If you’re looking for a travel buddy, I’m your girl.  And if you are a single, handsome, intelligent, funny, God-loving man who is looking for a travel buddy, let me know.  Maybe we can work something out.

Active Prevention of a Mid-Life Crisis February 26, 2009

 

The absolute worst thing about Facebook (besides all of those ridiculous zombie-vampire-pirate-ninja-baked-goods-lil’-green-patch applications) is that it feeds my monster impulse to compare myself to others.  Every status update and photo album is a potential morsel for it to gobble down.  This is not something I love about myself; it’s definitely something that I’m working on, but dude, how many engagement pictures, changed relationship statuses, and ultrasound photos can I look at before I articulate the obvious gap between my lifestyle and that of half of my peers?

I’ll tell you something a little embarrassing: I thought I would be married before I turned 22.  I know, right?  Reading I Kissed Dating Goodbye, making a conservative youth group my life in high school, and attending a Bible college where people joked about the female students earning their “MRS” degrees were all ingredients in my little cocktail of future wishes.  I don’t remember if I ever voiced my plan to anyone (dear Lord, I hope not) but when I was graduating high school I had it all mapped out in my mind.  First and second year of college I would be a social butterfly, just having fun, right?  Third year I would settle on one boy to date, our senior year we would get engaged and plan our wedding, and I would toss my graduation cap and my bouquet in the same month.

You may have guessed – this didn’t happen.  As it turned out, I had two failed relationships and then I was too busy trying to deal with all my emotional ish during my senior year to find another boyfriend, get engaged and plan a wedding.  

Instead, I planned a trip to Europe with a friend, scheduled for three days after graduation.  Then I worked at a camp all summer in Maryland.  In the past 3 years I have lived in California, Maryland, Australia, Mexico, Norway, and Germany.  I have visited 12 countries I have never been to before.  I have bobbed in the Dead Sea in Israel, danced around a Christmas tree in Norway, fed a kangaroo in Australia, attended Carnaval in Mazatlan, picnicked in France, and touched the remains of the Berlin Wall.  I spent a summer Down Under and a winter as close to the Arctic Circle as I ever want to get.  I have eaten a thousand new foods and smelled a million new scents.  I’ve met 19,762 people.  All between May 2006 and February 2009.

That’s pretty freaking amazing.  Then why, when I stumble upon an old friend’s Facebook account and discover she now has 2 kids and a baby on the way, do I feel like I’m lagging behind in the race of life?  Something (perhaps leftover from the 40s a la Mona Lisa Smile) tugs on my sleeve and tells me I better polish my heels and get a ring on my finger so I can pop out some babies before…I don’t even know what.  What?!  How crazy is that line of thinking?  

These are just fleeting thoughts.  But sometimes I do feel like I’m a few cars back in the train of life than others my age.  I told my friend Allison about this in an email the other day (she’s the one who traveled to Europe with me) and she had this to say: “Once we do settle down and have kids we will have thousands of experiences, memories and encounters that will get us through whenever it feels monotonous. I think that if I settled down and had kids right away I would have a pretty serious mid-life crisis.”  Aha!  Not only do I agree with her, but I think this fear of the monotonous, the fear of the mid-life crisis, that my sister Rachel always depicts in an image of her, middle-aged and standing at a kitchen sink doing dishes and gazing wistfully out the window, wondering what her life could have been like if only she hadn’t settled is part of what fueled my desire to travel in the first place.  

Disclaimer: I do not believe that everyone who marries young is settling.  No way!  If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that there isn’t a formula for when and how couples should get together and get married.  But for me, settling down before I had all these adventures really would be settling.  I think that one day I would have been washing dishes or changing a diaper or sewing a Halloween costume (ha!) and wondering what kind of adventures I could have had.

I’m so glad that in 20 years, when I’m folding the laundry or getting my car washed or doing some other mundane task, I can smile to myself and think about that time I paraglided off of a mountain in Austria or tossed coins into the Trevi fountain in Rome…I can revisit the conversations I’ve had with hundreds of beautiful, fascinating people.  But dude, it’s not like after this I’m going to stop traveling.  It’s just good to know that I’ve lowered my odds of freaking out when I turn 40.  Also, it’s pretty sweet to put all those pictures on Facebook.

From the Field February 20, 2009

 

In case you want to know more about what I’m doing with YWAM in Germany, I posted my latest update in a page here.  See in the upper right hand corner?  It says “Germany Update.”  Just click there!  Ciao.  (Yeah, they say that in Germany, too).

The above picture is Heidelberg, which is about 20 minutes from the city where we live.  The picture below is of me on Valentine’s Day (ahem, single for the *cough* year in a row…)  We passed out roses that had tags reading “God Loves Mannheim.  We Do Too.”  In German, though.  :)

Ich Bin Ein Berliner February 12, 2009

I’m not going to lie…when I first arrived in Berlin, I thought I had never seen such an ugly city.  But somehow, it got in my blood.  When one of my best friends came to visit last week, I showed Berlin off with pride, and that made me realize how much I’d come to love the city in a few short weeks.  Berlin is fascinating and full of history, color, energy, and creativity.  It’s one of the only places in the world that I have felt like I could totally be myself – not thinner, smarter, prettier, richer, whatever. 

Here are some other impressions I’ve had of Berlin:

-I like that people will look you in the eyes when they pass you on the street.  I mean, yeah, if you smile at them they still look at you like you’re crazy…but hey, at least you acknowledged each other’s existence.

-As my friend Anne-Mai said, the official Berlin animal should be a dog, and not a bear.  I saw more dogs in my 4 weeks in Berlin than my 5 months in Norway.  They are everywhere, even on the trams!  None of them wear leashes, and none of their owners pick up their poop.  Seriously, walking up our street (nicknamed “Poop Street” and not by us) to the tram stop is like playing hopscotch, leaping and skipping to avoid the fresh piles laid every day.

 -Fredrichshain, the area we lived in, was so freaking cool.  It’s populated by yuppies and also anarchists who are against the system and form squatter communities in five story buildings that they completely cover in graffiti.  They even have steel doors to keep out the police when they try to evict them.  So there’s all these beautiful European buildings punctuated by amazing colorful graffiti.  Okay, and funny story about that: I was walking down our street and a guy was walking a little Jack Russell dog that started to jump up onto my friend’s legs.  The guy said, “Don’t jump, Pete!” and my ears perked up when I heard he was speaking English.  So we had this little conversation:

  Me: Hey, where are you from?

  Him: Canada.  You?

  Me: L.A.  

  Him: Oh, cool.  What are you doing here?

  Me: I’m on a missions trip.  What about you? 

  Him: [Laughing cynically] I’m an anarchist.  I live here [points to graffiti covered entrance to squatter flat]. 

  Me: Oh, cool.

  Him: [Sarcastically, as he enters his flat] Have fun.

Moving on…

-Berlin is SO full of history.  I totally want to learn so much more about it, especially about life in East Germany under the GDR.

-There’s a bunch of Starbucks locations in Berlin, but you know what?  It doesn’t matter, because you can’t freaking get iced green tea outside of the United States.  Boo.

-I love that Berlin has its own dialect, like they say “ick” instead of “ich” for “I.”  Like I went to a concert down the street from my place and the local band had a song called “Berlin, ick liebe dir” which is “Berlin, I love you” in the local dialect.  I bought the t-shirt.  

-I can’t say this definitively, but it seems like Berlin is devoid of “scenes”, at least for a metropolis with a thriving population of young people.  For instance, when I went to a ska/reggae show a couple weeks ago,  there wasn’t a certain type of person or style there.  There was every size, shape, color, and style there.  It’s so freeing!

Okay, that’s all I can think of right now because I’m watching “What Happens in Vegas” and it’s much funnier and more interesting when I’m not watching it on an airplane in the middle of the night! 

In closing, I think I can identify with JFK when he said, “Ich bin ein Berliner.”  Although, I’m still a little unclear on what he meant by that…

Pictures below.  If you want to see more, look at my Facebook albums.  Oh, and shout out to Katie, who flew all the way from Southern California (ahem, with an extended stopover in London) to Berlin to hang out for a couple days.  I love the way we keep meeting up all around the world!

My team on our first day in Berlin; that’s the Reichstag, the government building:

Starbucks at Brandenberg Gate – alas, alack, no iced tea.  :(  Too cold anyway.

Walking through the Holocaust Memorial 

Pretty buildings in our neighborhood of Freidrichshain and one of the punk squatter buildings - 

Katie and I in front of a chunk of the Berlin Wall…this is ranking up there with my favorite pictures of us!

 

Ugly American…Movie? January 28, 2009

I know, right?  Another movie post?  Don’t worry, I won’t spend this one swooning over Tom Cruise *shudder* like I did over Robert Pattinson.  But last night Anne-Mai (my new movie buddy) and I went over to Potsdamer Platz to see Valkyrie.  I really wanted to see it while I was here in Berlin, for obvious reasons.  The theater at Potsdamer is sweet not only because they sell beer and wine at the concession stand or because it’s kinda fancy and has a big red curtain that opens and closes in between the trailers and the feature presentation.  Another plus is that they show most movies in their original language, meaning I don’t have to suffer through subtitles (I dare you to try NOT reading them) or worse, dubbing in German!  Anyway, the downside (or up, depending on who you talk to) is that the place is crawling with foreigners…like me.  I really wanted to watch Valkyrie while sitting amongst a sea of well-dressed, beer sipping, intellectual Germans who would loudly discuss the movie afterwards (and I would somehow magically understand them).  Instead, I had three American gay guys in front of me and an Asian girl who sounded SO Californian sitting behind me.  Another clue that she was from L.A. was that she was bragging about knowing some guy who had a bit part in the movie.  But there was a grumpy German guy next to me, so I guess that’s something.  (I was totally scared of him…before the movie started, he yelled at the guy behind him for kicking his seat.  So later, I was afraid he would yell at me for eating my apple too loudly – I waited for loud explosions in the movie to take small, furtive bites.)

Anyway, what’s my take on the movie, you ask?  Well, I actually thought it was really good.  Definitely suspenseful and action-packed and all, but I felt like it was a meaningful experience to watch it while living in Germany.  I’ve only been here for two weeks, but I’ve been preparing for this trip and praying for Germany for months now.  I feel like I’ve connected my heart to the people as I’ve prayed for their healing as a nation and for their future.  The movie was really eye-opening to me because I had no idea that this had even happened.  I knew that there were assassination attempts on Hitler during his reign, but I always assumed these were lone zealots on crazy suicide missions, not large groups of powerful politicians and military men creating an organized resistance.  Most of us know that many Germans disagreed with what was happening, but I think it is so good for the world to see many sacrificed their lives standing up to the atrocities of Hitler’s regime.  My main complaint about the movie (besides casting Tom Cruise as the lead) was that the cast did not use German accents.  First, it was just confusing.  Dude, this guy’s American, this guy’s British…what’s the deal?  Second, it was kind of a silver screen example of the Ugly American.  We can’t even be bothered to take on German accents for a movie set in Germany with all German characters?  Third, and most importantly, I think it was actually vital for the cast to use German accents because such an important part of the movie was that it was Germans rising up for Germany, not any outside sources (ahem, like Allies with American and British accents).  I had to keep reminding myself during the movie that the “good guys” were actually German.  Which I think was kind of an important theme in the film.  I wonder how Germans felt about it?

Anyway, there was one line in the movie that was so powerful, when they were referencing the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, and how God would have spared Sodom if He had found just ten righteous men dwelling in it.  In the movie, they say that for Germany, it might have to come down to one righteous man.  Something inside me wanted to say, “Amen!” (I refrained for fear of the grouchy German on my left).  But seriously, I did want to say, “Look!  God DID spare Germany!”  He saw all of the righteous people here who loved Him and His ways.  He had grace on the country even after what happened to His people there.  He didn’t wipe them out, He wants to bind up their broken hearts and heal their wounds.

Like I said, it was powerful.  And at the end of the movie, everyone kind of just sat in stunned silence for a few minutes while the credits rolled.  It felt so heavy in the theater, and I wondered what the Germans were thinking.  Was that regret in the air?  Sorrow for what their fathers and grandfathers had done or not done?  Were they feeling hope for “sacred Germany” to return to her glorious state again, or were they scared to even hope it, content to settle for not making any waves.  I don’t know.  But I want to get to know more Germans during my time here and understand more of how they work and think and dream.

Sorry this is kind of my first real post about Germany…I plan on a “First Impressions of Berlin” post…someday soon.

Learning Curve January 12, 2009

Considering how much I travel, one would really think I’d be better at it.  But I seriously suck at traveling.  As I’ve recounted before on this blog, I remember standing in the shower the night before my dream vacation of touring through Europe for three weeks with one of my best friends.  What was I thinking?  ”What the HECK am I doing?  I don’t want to go!”  And of course I went and had the time of my life.  When those three weeks were up, I came home for a few days to catch my breath, do some laundry, and repack for Maryland, where I would work as a camp counselor all summer.  The night before I left, while trying to find a parking space at Olive Garden with my sister, I had another meltdown.  Forget it, I’ll just stay here all summer!  And of course, the next day I boarded a plane and had one of the best summers of my life at Camp Sonshine.  Before I left for Australia, same thing.  And before Norway.  Always the same panicked second-guessing of myself, my plans, my packing lists.  It’s similar to the pre-party meltdowns I’m infamous for (“What if we run out of food?  What if no one shows up?  Why do I look so ugly?”).  When will I grow out of this?

So of course, on the eve of my outreach to Germany, I feel like I’m going crazy.  One single thought pounds through my head: “I want to go home.”  I have like 1% adventurer in me, and somehow that part of my psyche always manages to wrestle to the ground the other 99% of me – the boring grandma who hates going out of her comfort zone and would rather watch Gilmore Girls and eat frozen yogurt than fly to a fascinating city.  I’m SO glad that 1% is freakishly strong, because I don’t regret one single trip I have taken – from Europe to Israel to Australia to Norway.  

Now here I go again, with a different purpose and different hopes and different challenges.  I know I’m not alone, I know it will be worth it, I know I’ll come back thankful.

But I wish I could just be there already!

It’s People, It’s People, It’s People December 21, 2008

Ui mai koe ki ahau he aha te mea nui o te ao, Māku e kī atu he tangata, he tangata, he tangata!

Ask me what is the greatest thing in the world, I will reply: It is people, it is people, it is people!

–Maori Proverb

When I first began traveling, visions of Big Ben, Moulin Rouge, and Venetian gondolas danced in my head.  I wanted to see the sights of Europe; tour Anne Frank’s home in Amsterdam, marvel at the splendor of Michelangelo’s The David in Florence, and view Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower.  So I did these things.  But after I hit the “biggies” in Europe, and prayed at the Western Wall in Jerusalem, and saw the Opera House in Sydney at sunset, I started to crave something different in my travels.  New countries popped onto my traveler’s wish list that were never there before.  I wanted to go to Argentina and India and Spain.  I wanted to know more about the people, and how they made up the culture – how they laughed and danced and ate and mourned.  My hunger for glamorous experiences decreased while my desire for authentic interaction increased.

So now that I’m in Norway, it’s not really about what I’ve seen.  I’ve only been to Oslo once, I briefly visited the West coast a couple months ago, and I barely ever venture beyond the farm or Hamar, the closest “city” with a meager population of 30,000.  And yet, I love Norway.  I will always remember my time here with fondness.  It’s not because of the natural beauty (although it’s stunning), and it’s definitely not because of the weather or the food.  But it’s because I’ve loved to hear Norwegians sing their prayers before dinner, and I’ve loved to watch them get excited about Christmas and the first snowfall, and I’ve loved the way they’ve taken me into their homes and their hearts.

Living and working and playing with people from at least 16 different nations, in addition to Norway, has been an amazing blessing.  Sometimes my heart swells when I think about this family I’ve been welcomed into here at Grimerud, when I think of the diversity of personalities, laughs, and gifts that spill out of this place like treasure.  Everywhere I’ve gone in this world, I’ve made friends I want to take with me the rest of my days; collecting them like a stone rolling down a hill.  I’m overwhelmed when I think of the countries I will still visit, the places I will live, the people I will fall in love with there. 

It’s not that I’ve evolved into some completely altruistic traveler.  I still want to go on a safari in Africa and dance in a Greek taverna and bungee jump in New Zealand.  But if you ask me what is the greatest thing in the world, I will reply: It is people, it is people, it is people!