The number 33

I don’t know why it didn’t come to me sooner. I mean, good grief, it’s Christmas! I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it. Maybe it’s the fact that it doesn’t feel like Christmas….or maybe just that I don’t really want it to feel like Christmas because I’m so far from everything that I associate with Christmas. I don’t know…. But tonight, as I was rinsing the shampoo out of my hair…it came to me.

This year is different, to say the least. Next year will be too. In the past two weeks I feel like I have hit a wall. Cod smells stronger, Portuguese sounds more confusing, and socializing seems more overwhelming. Today I caught myself thinking two girls conversing in Portuguese were making fun of me. For no physical reason that I know of, I’ve started getting carsick anytime I get in a vehicle. But more than anything…I just keep imagining what it will be like to see snow again, to call up a friend and meet for coffee, to be able to sleep in my own bed, and to just smell “home” (the important things, I know... :)). Mentally, I know all this is absolutely ridiculous. I am in one of the most beautiful places I will probably ever live in, meeting some of the most amazing people, and I absolutely love and adore my school, class, and church. But that doesn’t negate the fact that I have been in a constant battle with my emotions ten minutes before school starts or the moment I enter my room. I can’t explain it… I just know I’m walking through it.

After spending an hour trying to decide what I was going to do over my Christmas break, I started looking at plane tickets home. I checked about 28 different ways that I could come home for a brief time in August just to see if any way could be cheaper than the others. I finally gave up and decided to go take a shower. That’s when everything just hit me. Call it transition stress or culture stress… I call it “the moment reality hits.” As I stood in the shower thinking about how even the same brand of shampoo smells different, I realized just how much separated me from home, from friends, and from the familiar. Not just an ocean, but time as well…two Christmases….two entire years …

And just when I started to tear up, it came to me.

Thirty-three.

That was how many separated Him.

Thirty-three years away from His Father, His home, His “familiar.”

He left a place with beauty I cannot even begin to fathom or imagine…to live and dwell on a dirty, smelly, filthy planet …one that He created in perfection, but one that we have perverted and polluted with sin. The first breath that entered his lungs was filled with the stench of sin-cursed humanity mixed with the putrid smells of animals. And it didn’t get any better. For thirty-three years He walked the earth knowing it was not his home. He knew what he left behind…and he knew what awaited him. How could he go through with it? Thirty-three years of being a social outcast, being misunderstood, ill-treated, mocked, rejected, and denied….knowing that at the end all that awaited him was arduous torture and a crucifixion. How, Lord?

That’s when I heard Him speak so patiently, tenderly, and lovingly to me.
“Because I knew it was the Father’s will.”

That was what I needed….my “reality check.” The reality that I have not been asked to do something that my Savior has not already done out of love for His Father. The reality that what I miss is incredibly insignificant compared to what He left behind. The reality that He made the ultimate “transition” or “adjustment”…all because the Father asked him to.

I know in a much smaller way, He’s asked this of me. I know this is His will for me. So when I dare think deep within my heart “How, Lord?” I know he’s already answered.
“Because you know it’s the Father’s will.”


NOTE: In no way do I want to negate how much I love being here in Portugal with this post. I am blessed beyond measure, well taken care of, and absolutely love Portugal. I'm just a girl... and therefore am a conflicting mess of emotions and desires. I know that when I return home, I’ll probably go through this exact same process of wishing I was here when I am finally there. Remind me of this post, please, when I get to that place. :)

So long, Facebook....

I decided it was time for me to break my long-standing relationship with Facebook. It's not Facebook. It's me. Too many hours wasted. Too much focus on the wrong things. Too much self-promotion. Too much of something that profits me nothing spiritually.
So I ended it indefinitely. Maybe one day we'll be able to be just friends...but for now, I need some space. I need to focus on the people God has placed in front of me. I need to make sure my time is spent investing in something that lasts for eternity.
So, in the words of Dan Wahlstrom, "If people want to see my face, they're not going to find it in a book. They're going to have to hunt me down to see the real thing. It won't be on Facebook."

Follow the leader....

I absolutely love these pictures... these kids caught my eye the moment we pulled up the to the convent. Perhaps it was their uniforms at first... but what held my attention was the struggle of one to lead and the others to follow...



You can see the pure excitement in her eyes...the joy of being in charge...


Only to be followed by sheer frustration...the others wouldn't listen, wouldn't stop asking questions, and just plain wouldn't follow...


This had to be my favorite moment. If only there wasn't an obstruction in the picture. I just loved these two little boys questioning every single step their "leader" was making...


Even better was this one... I found these two boys later. Apparently they decided they were done following... :)

I love it... :)

básquetbol vs. basketball

Tonight I went to a professional basketball game. I learned a few things. Let me share....

1) There are apparently no Portuguese words for "time-out."

2) A high school boys basketball game would get more fans to come than a professional team here....which, I might add, did make for some great seats. :)

3) If one person is injured, it is essential that everyone else be part of the decision making process for what should be done.... or at least huddled around the injured.

4) The crowd chooses to remain silent while the opposing team shoots from the free-throw line...and cheers violently when their own team is shooting from the free-throw line. Not really sure about that one...

5) Sometimes, you just need to warm-up. Five, ten, fifteen, maybe even twenty minutes before you enter the game... :)

6) Joyce used to be a cheer-leading coach...and still knows some great cheers. :)

7) Half-time would have been a great time to go use the restroom.

8) Saying that you don't speak Portuguese will not get you out of a half-time shooting contest...

9) I still can't shoot to save a life... or win a prize. :) If only there were contests for quickest person to foul, trip, or receive an intentional... I'd have that one in the bag.

Just give me one...

I'm praying that God shows me some way, each day to impact others for Christ. It might be small.. it might be seemingly insignificant...but that each day there would be a small way in which I can influence one person for Him.
There are just so many needs...so many things that I feel burdened for. It's overwhelming. So I'm just asking for one each day... that I could impact one person for Christ. So that maybe then that one person would in turn impact one more for Christ.
I know I'm probably exhausting...nauseatingly hopeful. But what choice do I have?
I'd hop on a plane in an instant if I knew God wanted me working in an orphanage in Africa. I'd jump at the chance to carry light into the dark places of Sudan, or Pakistan, or Iraq.
I want to be Amy Carmichael and Gladys Aylward...giving hope and a home to the "least of these." I want Jim Elliot's eyes to see the lost that everyone else is missing...and his willingness to lay down his life so that they might know TRUE and ABUNDANT life in Christ. I want George Mueller's resolve to live by faith and the joy of watching God answer in unexpected ways.
I want so desperately to live a life that isn't just about accumulating dollars in a bank account of vain pursuit. I want so much more...
I may never impact huge masses to follow my Savior. That's alright.
I just want one today...

Because that's my King...

Sometimes I need reminders....today, I just needed this reminder.

Transparent: easily seen through, recognized, or detected; open; frank; candid

I wish I could sit down and dump my heart out before someone and just ask him or her what it all means. I wish there was an expert on it...someone that could look at all the pieces and tell me how they all fit together. I wish someone could tell me what it looks like in five, ten, or fifteen years.

I'm here...in the midst of an all Western European conference with ABWE...and I feel like I am falling apart. Not because I am homesick or missing friends and family over the holidays. Not at all (sorry Mom...). I'm falling apart because once again I feel this overwhelming burden that I can't explain. Once again I feel the Lord getting ready to completely ask me to step out in faith. I know it is going to be harder this time than the last. Last time I knew what He was asking...and this time...He's just asking me to blindly follow...not knowing where, when, or to what...but to surrender wholly without any inclination as to what He's going to ask of me.

He's asking me to trust Him with all the things that I love. The people here....the fact that I absolutely love living in a different culture and part of the world...the part of me that thinks the Portuguese language is quite possibly the most beautiful language I've heard...and the joy that I get being completely bombarded and surrounded by it...left to try to figure out bits and pieces of it...
He's asking me to simply surrender to Him all those desires...not knowing if I'll ever be able to permanently have or enjoy them...and to simply follow Him... wherever He leads.


So once again I'm here. Trusting God to show me what all this means in His time. Trusting that the desires He has placed in my heart can be fulfilled either by Him or in some other way that I can't see. Believing God is who He was...and forever will be. Once again stepping out of my boat.

As hard as it is to blindly follow...I'm excited. I know that this is when God leads, moves, and directs.

I'm here, Lord...
Speak, because I'm listening.
Here I am, Lord...
Send me.
I'll go.

"Do they see Jesus in me?"

"Is the face that I see in the mirror the one I want others to see?
Do I show in the way that I walk in my life the love that You've given to me?
My heart's desire is to be like You,
In all that I do,
All I am.

Do they see Jesus in me?
Do they recognize Your face?
Do I communicate Your love and Your grace?
Do I reflect who You are in the way I choose to be?
Do they see Jesus...
Jesus in me?

Well it's amazing that You'd ever use me...
But use me the way You will.
Help me to hold out a heart of compassion and grace,
A heart that Your Spirit fills.
May I show forgiveness and mercy,
The same way You showed it to me.


Do they see Jesus in me?
Do they recognize Your face?
Do I communicate Your love and Your grace?
Do I reflect who You are in the way I choose to be?
Do they see Jesus...
Jesus in me?

I want to show all the world that You are the reason I live and breathe...
So You'll be the One that they see...
When they see me.

Do they see Jesus in me?
Do they recognize Your face?
Do I communicate Your love and Your grace?
Do I reflect who You are in the way I choose to be?
Oh do they see Jesus in me?"


This song came to my mind this week. It's a song I used to listen to often in high school, but I hadn't really thought of it much since then. As I was overhearing my students talk about different teachers and the things they remembered about them...I started to wonder what they would remember about me. The words to this song came back to me. It's a scary thing to have students watching your every response...your facial expressions...your interactions with colleagues...and I keep wondering if they see Him. Can they see Christ? Do they see me respond in a way that imitates Christ? Do they see His compassion in me? Do they see His holiness? Do they experience His forgiveness through me?
Or are they just seeing me, Erin Wahlstrom? What a waste if they are... What a tragedy if they can't see a picture of my Savior in the everyday moments of my life. What a waste of a life that was created to radiate and reflect Him...

Oh Lord...don't let me waste my life on me. Fill me, use me, change me, transform me...until there is no trace of who I used to be without You.

Nothing can separate....

Nothing can separate me from God's love.
Nothing.
Not trouble.
Not hardship.
Not persecution.
Not a famine.
Not nakedness.
Not danger.
Not a sword.

Nothing.

Not death.
Not life.
Not angels.
Not demons.
Not the present.
Not the future.
Not any power.
Not height.
Not even depth.
Not anything else in the entire created world.

Nothing.
Nothing can separate me from the love of Christ.

Not a language.
Not an ocean.
Nothing.
Not a time difference.
Not a cultural difference.
Nothing.

His love knows no limits.
As He has known no beginning and no end....so is His love.
Steadfast.
Eternal.
Unchanging.

Every second in every minute of every hour in each day---His love to me is constant.

And nothing- nothing- will ever separate me from His love.

"Praise the Lord, all you nations; extol Him, all you peoples. For great is his love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord." --Psalm 117

You didn't say that it would be easy...
You never promised a perfect path, free of hurt, free of difficulty, free of conflict.
You promised a Light.
You promised a Presence.
You promised a Helper.

You didn't call me to ease and to comfort...
You never called me to sit back and relax, or to know the latest trends and fashions.
You called me to take up my cross.
You called me to suffer with You.
You called me to die to myself.

So here I am, Lord.
Hard-pressed, but not crushed.
Perplexed, but not in despair.
Persecuted, but not abandoned.
Struck down, but not destroyed.

Here I am, Lord.
Ready to start a new day.
It might hold more...
More things that make me feel worthless...
More situations that make me feel crushed...
But I will not lose heart.
For these things draw me to You.

You, who by Your grace define my worth.
You, who in Your love restore my brokenness.
You, who take the least, the frail, the feeble, and the weak,
and make them strong.

So here I am, Lord.
I am nothing...
But I am Yours.

Little by little, inch by inch...

So I just have to say... today was my best Portuguese day ever.
Let me clarify. When you read what little actually occurred...you will realize how far I have to go. Nonetheless, today was HUGE for me.
That being said, let me explain.

Laura and I decided that we both want to learn how to cook. So, we've been taking turns cooking meals. We usually sit down, plan out the meals for the week, and then make our grocery list.

Well, my goal is to make one new recipe each week. This week, I decided to make French dip sandwiches. I made my list, looked at the things I needed but had never seen or didn't know where to find at the grocery store...and then I emailed some missionaries to help me know what words to look for in the meat section. I jotted the words down on my list and headed to the store.

I saved finding the meat for the end. I hate the meat section. First of all, I really am not much of a meat person...especially when I see it before it's been cooked. Secondly, the meat section here is just very different than at home. I have never walked through the meat section at Walmart and seen former pets staring back at me...I'll just put it that way. Thirdly, there is the distinct, overwhelming smell of dried cod that, while barely tolerable throughout the store, is ten times stronger near the meat. The first time I walked past it I began dry-heaving. It's that strong. I have now reached the point where I no longer have to hold my sleeve to my nose. I think now I just walk past with a pained expression upon my face. My goal is to one day look happy to be purchasing meat near the hanging slabs of cod. We'll see if it ever happens.

As I braced myself to enter into the dreaded meat section, I began to scan the labels to find a beef roast. When I finally found the meat I needed...I realized there were two kinds that had the words I was looking for. They both looked VERY different. While I probably could have just grabbed one and made it work, a deep part of me was terrified that it might be meat from a previously mentioned pet...or just an animal that I would rather not try...so I started to look for someone to help me.

Just that moment a lady walked by with a large crate of meat to restock the refrigerators. She saw me standing there staring at her inquisitively and came over to help me. I started with my standard apology for not knowing more Portuguese and then asked her in Portuguese, "Is this beef?"

To which she replied, "lskjdfoeiiwjaofjeowiejowijf" (didn't catch a word of it)

I decided to try another approach. "Is this from the same animal?"

Bingo.

She explained that they were both from the same animal, but the reason they looked different is that one was "cleaner" and "purer."

It's stupid, really. But being able to actually form a question and understand the response was WONDERFUL!

Then, later this evening Laura and I were wanting to purchase coffee but could only find the beans. We don't have a grinder, but I remembered that usually they can grind the beans for you. I remembered the words "you can" and "make" from a song we sing in church, the word for ground, and slammed them altogether in a probably horrendously constructed sentence---but the lady understood.
It's such a thimble full compared to the vast ocean of what I need to know...but the thimble full felt quite satisfying today. :)

"But at seven and twenty, she thought very differently from what she had been persuaded to think earlier..."

I've been doing a lot of reflecting lately...
Thinking about the past decade or so of my life...the decisions I've made...the direction that my life has taken...
Reflection can be a painful thing. There are parts of my life that I wonder if could have turned out differently if I wouldn't have been quite so hard-hearted at the time... or so incredibly afraid of being vulnerable...or just so scared of taking a risk.
I know, of course, that God has a plan for my life...every part of it. I know that those things have pushed me to be who He wants me to be. They have broken my heart so that God could reshape and refashion it for Him...
But sometimes I wonder.
I wonder if my history will make sense in my future.
I wonder how God is going to work out a million desires that tug on my heart.
I know I have watched Him do it before, and I know I will watch Him do it again.
But right now...I'm wondering.

God knows where I've been, where I am, and where I will be.
He knows who I was, who I am, and who I will be.
He knows...
I know in part...He knows in full. He sees my beginning and my end, and He knows every detail of the story in between.
So I'm praying for eyes that don't see the circumstances that confuse...
and for a heart that won't hear the questions that bemuse...
Instead I'm fixing my gaze on the Author of my Life
and setting my heart upon the Lover of my Soul.

Somehow He knows how the puzzle that is my heart fits together...

Cultural Adjustment #182 :)

I think I'm losing the inner Midwesterner in me. :)
For the longest time, I would smile at everyone I walked past, everyone that entered the cafe, and everyone that I came into contact with. This is something my friends have said I do way too much, even in the States. I just want to be friendly, you know? I just want to show people there is something different about me.
After about a week of odd looks, unsolicited (in my opinion) stares/attention, I started to notice that perhaps my "friendliness" wasn't exactly sending out the right message...if you know what I mean.
So I'm trying really hard to be "citified." :)
I give blank stares back to random strangers and try really hard not to acknowledge anyone and everyone by smiling at them, unless, of course, I have a reason to interact with them (salesman/woman, checker, etc.).
My thoughts on this were confirmed when a (Portuguese) friend of mine traveled to a small town in North America. I asked her what she thought. She said as she walked into stores she kept thinking that the friend she was visiting knew everyone. She would smile at them, they would ask her how her day was, if she needed help. Finally, she turned to her friend and said, "How do you know all these people?"
Her friend replied, "I don't."
"Then why are they talking to you and acting like they know you?"
I loved that. Seeing her bewildered response to what is so familiar to me....as I was trying to adjust to what was so familiar to her.
I'm sure not everyone experiences this. I just happen to come from Iowa...quite possibly the friendliest place on the earth. :)

Oh what a tangled web we weave...

My mind has been constantly trying to come to an understanding of the different events that occurred this past week.
This last week was just one of those terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad- weeks...at least from a human perspective. Not one thing in particular...just an awful combination of so many things...
Yet in the culmination of such frustrating events, I recognize the hand of God.
I know that when I encounter circumstances that are beyond my control, I am forced to acknowledge that I cannot control anything.
I know that when people hurt or frustrate me, I am forced analyze why I'm bothered...and then I remember that there is only one person that should be sitting on the throne in my heart...and it can't be me.
Lastly, I know that in circumstances that were so delicately crafted to quite possibly discourage or defeat, my foundation is strong.
Yeah...it's been one of those weeks.
One of those weeks where God reminds me:
He's the Potter...I'm the clay.
He's the Vine...I'm the branch.
He's Alpha and Omega...I'm a vapor.
He's Faithful and True...I'm...well...I'm Gomer.

I was teaching today about the life of Joseph. I used an illustration I had heard in a poem about a tapestry. I explained that Joseph didn't know how all the events in his life fit together. He didn't see the grand picture. He didn't know when he was sitting in a prison falsely accused that in a few years he would once again be second in command. God looks at the events in our lives and sees a a beautiful picture. We see the underside of a tapestry...strings out of place...sometimes a knotted mess. One day, we'll see the full picture. But for right now, we just see bits and pieces. As I got the words out, I realized that perhaps I was the one that needed to hear that the most.
So I dug out the poem(ok, I really just googled it)...great reminder.

The Weaver

My life is but a weaving, between my God and me.
I do not choose the colors, he worketh steadily.
Oft' times he weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride,
Forget He sees the upper, and I the underside.

Not till the looms are silent, and the shuttles cease to fly.
Will God unroll the canvas and explain the reasons why,
The dark threads are as needful in the skillful Weaver's hand,
As the threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.

Author Unknown

I can only imagine...

I wonder what it's like...those first few moments. I wonder what it feels like to recognize someone you've lived your life for...Having never seen, heard, or touched Him...what is it like? I wonder if you fall...if you embrace...or if you simply stare, eyes wide and jaw dropped. I wonder if it's different for every person. I wonder.
Is it just you and Him? Or is there a whole crowd cheering your final, long awaited entrance? What's it like to know that your real life is just beginning?
I wonder what it's like...

This morning, one of my heroes died. But if I'm being completely honest, he died to himself years ago...today it just became official.
He was always a picture to me of what it meant to be consumed with Christ. I'll admit that when I was younger, I was always worried he'd ask me a question from the Bible that I couldn't answer. When I was a teenager, I was worried that he would say something that would convict me. But the deeper that I have fallen in love with my Savior, the more I found I had in common with this man. The more I appreciated watching him with others...the more I admired his blatant evangelism with anyone and everyone...the more I longed for his ability to guide conversations to spiritual things. He didn't live for himself. I knew that if I spoke with him...our conversation would be centered on Christ. That intimidated me for a while. But the older I grew...the more I appreciated that. Often times when I was at his granddaughter's house, I would wind up listening to Him or conversing with Him about Christianity...about the Cross...or just about Christ.
I've been thinking a lot about a conversation I had with him before I left for Portugal. I remember sitting there looking up at him passionately telling me one of his favorite missionary stories. I realized that the next time I'd see him would most likely be in heaven. As I opened my mouth to ask him a question, he began to share with me the most important piece of advice he could have given me. It isn't profound...it isn't ground-breaking or earth-shattering...but it's exactly what I needed to hear.
"Erin," he said, "the most important thing I've done in my Christian life is to sit down, every single night, refusing to go to bed until I know I'm right with the Lord. Make sure you keep your account with Him current. Think through your day. Confess anything that you know you've done, and ask the Lord to show you the things you've forgotten....'cause if you don't...you're useless and ineffective...and Satan has you where he wants you. Then it might be weeks before you confess your sins and restore your relationship with him. Stay current."
As I drove home that evening, I began to think through the times when I know I strayed from the Lord. It was just like he had said...a small fade...a little thing unconfessed that diminished my desire to be in the Word...and the rest, well, it's history. It's such a simple thing, really. But it's so important! I'm not sure why I'd never thought that through before...but I'm so thankful God divinely arranged that conversation. It's one I've thought of so many times since...
I'm grateful for people who have rooted me on in my walk with Christ. I'm grateful for the godly examples that he gave me on this earth to challenge, inspire, and encourage me. I'm thankful for the testimony of someone who decided he wasn't going to live for himself...but rather for Him who had died for him.
I wonder what his first day was like...
Somehow, I can just hear him in the midst of the "great cloud of witnesses"...I can hear him whisper, "You have no idea...just wait, it's worth it. Keep living in purity in the midst of immorality...because it's worth it. Keep your eyes fixed on the prize...even when the world tells you to give up...because it's worth it. Continue to trust in the One you can't see...because I've seen Him....and He's worth it. Keep on... Press on...believe me, you won't be disappointed."

Because I'm too happy to sleep...

I know it's late...and I'll pay for this post tomorrow morning, but I just had to write tonight.
I love being here. It's amazing to me that it's almost been two months. It's incredibly amazing when I think about what I am just NOW feeling comfortable with doing or trying.
For example, this was the first week I was able to actually attempt to cook a recipe from home. Crazy, huh? It's just been too much for me to try to figure out substitutes or find ingredients in recipes I know. Finally, this week I sat down and went through every recipe I brought...which is really just my sister-in-law's cook book. I found everything I needed (minus refried beans...ok, I found them, but they would have cost $6...so I opted to make my own). It was so nice to eat something besides salad.
Today I decided to venture out to my church for a youth rally (at least, I think that's what it would be comparable to...). I've never really driven alone to church, especially at night, but I figured tonight would be a good time to start. As I was about halfway into the trip...I realized that for the first time I wasn't petrified of traffic or scared that I was going to end up in Spain. That's a great feeling, let me tell you.
Then, at the youth meeting, they concluded with a song that will always hold an incredible place in my heart. The words came up on the screen in Portuguese, and I didn't recognize them. But as the musicians started playing, tears filled my eyes. It was the song that my school sang when I realized it would, indeed, be possible for me to go to Portugal. I remember as the Grandview kids were singing, "I'll stand with arms high and heart abandoned, in awe of the One who gave it all," I thought that those words could have been scripted from the emotions soaring in my heart.
As I stood listening to the song in Portuguese, it was surreal. I remembered all the questions I had a year ago. Wondering how everything would come together...wondering if it ever would come together. But here I am... arms high, heart abandoned....and very much in awe of the One that gave it all. It was just the perfect reminder of how grateful I am to be where I know God wants me. "So what can I say? What can I do? But offer this heart, Oh Lord, completely to You."

Here's the song if you want to listen... :)
It's in Brazilian Portuguese, so it's a little different than what we sang.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xckkdR3TjN4

My God is so big...

What if I knew God would answer every prayer I had by midnight tonight?
I've been thinking about prayer so much this past month.
I've seen the Lord answer so many crazy prayer requests of mine. I remember in college everyone around me was either dating or engaged, and in a moment of frustration I prayed, "God, I just want a rose. Just one." I never told anyone. Two hours later a red rose was sitting on my desk.
I've seen Him answer according to the very numbers I've prayed. In high-school, I prayed that God would save five people on my friend's mission trip. When she returned she gave everyone in our class a different picture. She just "happened" to give me a picture of the FIVE people that were saved during her missions trip. In high school, I committed to giving a set amount of money to our church's building fund. It was a crazy amount because I was jobless. I prayed that God would provide the money for me to keep the commitment. One job after the next odd job, God brought every single dollar that I had committed to giving. One evening on our missions trip to Portugal, I prayed for two people to get saved. Sure enough, God saved two people.
I've seen Him answer according to the very dates I've prayed. I prayed my support would come in full before school ended. God answered. I prayed for my Visa to come by July 15. It arrived on exactly July 15.
God answers...
So why am I not praying for more? Not for selfish things...but for MORE
More glory to be given to Him.
More lives to be saved.
More young people to commit to serving Him.
More boldness in my life.
More love for others.
More of Christ, and less of me.

So would I pray differently if I knew God would answer by midnight tonight? It's haunting me...because I'm realizing how little I really pray for on a consistent, daily basis. There are so many people I would pray for...so many things I would ask God to change...so many lives I would beg God to save...if I knew He would answer tonight. I'd pray for hours...I'd call my friends...and their friends...

I know I don't do that because I fail to realize who my God is. When I pray, I am literally talking to the Most High. The Creator of the Universe listens to me. Piddly, klutzy, awkward me. He allows me into His presence. I stand before His throne...and as I stumble and fumble for words, He's listening. He inclines His ear to me, and He invites me to ask. And oddly enough...when He doesn't answer...He invites me to KEEP ASKING.

No more will I casually approach my prayer life. There are too many people who are hurting, too many lives that are lost, and far too many things that I cannot do in my own strength. God has given me access to Him, through Christ...
I know I'm just a girl...but I firmly believe that lives can change because of my prayers. Not because I'm anything...but because my God is.

So my list is made...but there's plenty of room...and I'm taking requests. :)

Week in review...

I don't even know where to begin tonight. I have sat down and typed up four completely different blog posts about this week...and I still can't seem to get my thoughts out in an orderly way. This being said, let me tell you about my week. :)
Have you ever been someplace and not really realized the significance of what you were seeing or doing until a few days later? That would be a great way to summarize the majority of my week.

Tuesday was a celebration of ABWE's 30th year in Portugal. People from all the different churches gathered together to celebrate what God has done and is continuing to do in this country. Every church showed a video and gave a short presentation. For me, it was a long day. I didn't really understand much of what was said, and I was really just looking forward to hearing a sermon from our regional director in English (which was incredible, I might add). It dawned on me about two days later that I sat in on a meeting that was really just a celebration of my God. Lives He had changed were gathered together to celebrate Him. I'm thankful I could see a tiny picture of what God has done here in Portugal. I wonder where they're going to meet for the 35th...it was standing room only this year. :)

On Thursday God chose to answer two prayers of mine. To make a long story short, our class has been praying for a car to be fixed. Originally the student's family was told it would cost 3,000 euros to fix the vehicle. We have been praying that God would either provide a new vehicle or a way for them to get it fixed for less. After my student first shared this, I started personally praying (which I greatly regret not praying this with my class...) that God would allow them to get it fixed for HALF that price...and that God would give them the money for it. Thursday morning my student said, "Oh, yeah, did you hear? We're getting the car fixed for half of what they said it would cost. And a church sent us the money to get it fixed." My jaw just about dropped. I love that...when God prompts you to pray something so SPECIFIC...so He can answer so SPECIFICALLY.

Yesterday I went with Laura to Starbucks. We sipped our coffee, graded papers, and stared at the random strangers staring at us. When we were in the midst of laughing about something, it hit me. For the first time, I felt like I was back home and out to coffee with a close friend. Everything felt so familiar...and it was wonderful. I'm thankful for little moments like that... moments where the world doesn't feel quite so large... moments where new acquaintances begin to feel like old friends.

Today Sarah and I went to church without Laura (who usually tells me when and where to turn). Sarah and I make a pretty great team in the car. She watches the Garmin and then tells me what it means as I focus on trying to do what it says without killing us. :) It's great...
I love being at Loures church. I know I don't understand everything that is being preached, but the Word doesn't return void...even when it's in Portuguese. :) It's exciting to feel like I am grasping a little bit more each Sunday. I also decided that in heaven we'll be singing the Portuguese version of "Celebrate, Jesus, Celebrate." :) Seriously...it's so much more fun.

Coffee Talk... :)

There are so many things that I want to write on here...I wish I could tell all the ways God has gripped, grabbed, and held my attention. I'd love to sit down at a coffee shop with so many people today and just unload...share the things God is doing in my heart and in the hearts of people around me. I wish I could rub off a bit of the burden God is putting on my heart for different people with you...so that you'd join me in earnest prayer...so that together we could watch God move, act, and give Him the glory when He does.
But it just isn't possible.
Instead, I'm going to have to settle for ambiguously sharing just a hint of what God is doing...and hope that somehow you can see Him at work behind the words...

He making me so aware of the brevity of life...and the eternal implications of the choices that I make. I know where I want to be...I know who I want to be...but it doesn't just happen. Who I am and who I will become is determined in little decisions...on a Saturday morning...in the midst of a conversation. Keeping Christ at the center, determining to make Him my all--it's a choice. And being AROUND the Word is not enough. There's no substitute for being IN it...seeing it as my source of strength and life.

He's giving me a glimpse of His heart for people...and breaking my heart with His. He's allowing me to experience just a hint of the portion of the pain He feels when His children sin and when they choose to live for the moment, rather than for Him. Every morning He reminds me of people. People He loves infinitely more than I do. People that are deceived...people that are enslaved. Every morning their faces bring me to tears...how much more must God's heart ache and yearn for their restoration? I cannot imagine...but I pray in faith that they'll return to the King. That they'll trade their chains for freedom, their burdens for peace, and that they'll step off the throne of their heart and allow Christ to rule.

He's showing me that He makes beauty from ashes...and that though Satan desires to kill and destroy, when your life is surrendered to God...there's nothing that can destroy you. In fact, God works in such extraordinary ways, that He uses what seems completely and utterly devastating to bring glory to Him.

He's reminding me that his plans are perfect...and good. Always. I might question, misunderstand, or misinterpret them...but God's way is always the BEST way for me. Not the most comfortable, not the easiest, not the most pleasurable...but it achieves for me something far greater. In his plan, I come to know the joy of obedience...the comfort of the cross...and a love that is and always will be unparalleled.

More than anything...He showing me more of Him. It's not because I'm here in Portugal. That has nothing to do with it. It's because I'm in His Word...it's because I'm asking Him to change me from the inside out...begging Him to make me look more like Him and less like me...pleading with Him to keep me from being satisfied with mediocre Christianity.

I know I have so much to learn...and I know so much more of me needs to change. I don't know how many days are left in my life...but I know I want to be found faithful. And I know I want to finish the course Christ has marked out for me...whatever it is and wherever it leads.

Quotable Quotes...

Just thought I'd share a few things that made me laugh this week.

5th/6th Boy: "I'm never getting married."
"Oh, really? Why?" I asked.
"Because... I want a motorcycle. Girls always make the guy sell the motorcycle. Especially Christian ones."


Upon explaining to someone in the States (who will remain nameless) that I saw Roman ruins that were from the time of Christ....
"Wow....so, was Jesus in Portugal?"



Trying to introduce a play from our reading book about men who try selfishly to win the heart of a princess, I asked a simple question...expecting a typical response. I asked what they would do to try to win the love of this princess.
This was the response from a 5th/6th grade boy that blew me away...clearly some thought was put into this.
"I'd buy her a dozen beautiful red roses...and put in one fake one that looked real. I'd tell the princess that I'd love her as long as the roses would live...she'd be surprised, because she knows the flowers will wilt...but then, after every other flower died...she'd realize, one flower would never die. Just like my love."

These are just a few of many things that crack me up on a daily basis. :)

A few other highlights from the week include...

Driving successfully (minus the moment I almost crashed into an oncoming car) to a house that I've only been to once (which, if you really know me, you'd know that means I had no idea where it was...it takes a solid 10-12 times before I'll remember where to go).

Sharing the 1st birthday of an adorable little girl with her family...and watching her siblings get more excited over her presents than she was.

Hanging out with the teens from the school at the social. It was fun to get to know more of them...watch them organize and run games...and hear one of them attempting to lead the games turn to his teacher and say, "Wow, I'm sorry. I now know what it feels like to be you. I feel your pain."

Listening to a few of my students voluntarily share their testimonies one day after Bible class... pretty cool to hear their stories of coming to know Christ. Then a student commented, "It's good to be talking about this...maybe someone in this class still isn't saved." After which... more students felt compelled to share their stories. :)

Who's there?

"Sin is crouching at your door, and its desire is for you. But you must master it."
What gripping words. If only he had listened. If only he had mastered. If only...
A murder would have been prevented.
A family could have stayed together.
A life would have been changed...
But he opened the door...he invited sin in...and the rest, well, the rest is history.
I was teaching through the life of Cain to my class...and I couldn't help but wonder, how many times have those words been whispered to my heart?
Right before I came to Portugal, I read an interesting article. The article was dealing with sexual purity, but I think the principles are true of any sin.
The challenge in the article was to sit down and list all the results and effects your moral failure would have in your life, the lives of your family members, and your ministry. Specific things...and to keep that list with you.
I just wonder if Cain could have seen down the road...if he would have known the misery of a life imprisoned to the consequences of his sin...would he have done it?
I think that's one of the greatest challenges of the Christian life...to not just think in the moment. It's easy to think about now. What feels good, or what would make me happy, or even just what I want. It's difficult to constantly think eternally...To continually analyze if this decision achieves for me who I want to be or what I want in light of eternity. By opening the door to this, what are the natural consequences? What are the eternal implications...for me and for others?
As I was reading the verse out loud to my students...I couldn't help but think about my life. Sin is crouching...Sin is knocking...and its desire is to have me.
And I MUST MUST MUST
master it...

Just call me "Gretel"

There are a lot of things about moving to a different country that would intimidate just about anyone. New language, new culture, new smells, new foods, new environment...these are just a few. So far, none of these things have frustrated me. Ok, so I did almost start dry-heaving at the smell of fish in the store...but I think I have an exceptionally strong dislike to the odor of fish.

For me, the most intimidating thing about living here has been driving. Just to clarify, I don't consider myself to be an outstanding driver in the States either. To further compound my problem, I don't have any concept of a sense of direction. No matter how many times someone explains it, north always seems to be directly in front of me and south will always feel directly behind me. (I know, I know...it makes no logical sense...I completely agree...it just doesn't change the fact that I can't EVER sense which way I am heading).

I definitely am accustomed to being lost...in fact, I've been known to spend one hour trying to find Starbucks in downtown Des Moines...only to turn around and go to the Starbucks across the street from my condo. Another time I ended up an hour into a trip to Kansas City while trying to get to Johnston for a required concert in college. I really wish I could say I was kidding...but it's true. To my credit...I always realize I am lost...I just don't know how to get found. :)

This being said...perhaps you will comprehend WHY this is so intimidating to me and why I have such extreme trepidation and fear. I think some of it is justified. My greatest fear is that I will get in my car, go somewhere, and never find my way back home. I think it was the story of Hansel and Gretel that first made me realize that this could actually be a real possibility. In fact, one time at a camp I really did get lost in the woods...and I remember thinking my worst nightmare had come true. Who tells kids stories like that, anyways?

Anyways..this past Sunday I hit my breaking point. It's been almost a month and I haven't driven anywhere by myself other than school or Continente (the Portuguese version of Walmart). So, I grabbed my Garmin and sat on the edge of my bed for about fifteen minutes debating whether or not it was worth the risk to just go by myself somewhere...or go insane. I opted to risk life and death (ok, I know I am exaggerating) rather than feel continually dependent on others.

I got in my car with my Garmin (whom I feel perhaps is my soul-mate...if such things even exist), and I headed to a mall. Half of the trip is a familiar one because it is the same route we go to church...it was the second half that about pushed me over the edge.

While I love my Garmin, I have also recognized a few design flaws.
For one...it doesn't exactly help a person who is not only directionally challenged but is also spatially challenged. For example, multiple times I tried to interpret the purple trail on the Garmin and determine exactly where I was supposed to turn...multiple times I interpreted incorrectly.
Secondly, the Garmin just tells you the way to go...it doesn't interpret signage and traffic...this is a problem when you don't understand the signage or the traffic.

I realized very quickly that I should have reviewed the signs before I left. I couldn't tell if one sign meant "one-way only" or if it meant "no parking". I finally realized that all the parked cars on both sides of the road were facing me...and that I had "chosen the forbidden way." (That's for you, Joyce.)

My poor Garmin worked hard...I stopped counting how many times I heard "Recalculating." BUT...I did finally get there...and when I got there...I was so exhausted that I went in and sat down for a while to calm down.

You don't realize how many mindless things you do when you are in familiar terrority...until you can do nothing "mindlessly." I don't think I'll ever take for granted being able to get in the car and just drive somewhere without thinking about anything. I'm not sure I'll ever get there in these two years...My guess is that just the time I get it...I'll be boarding the plane to come home. :)

I wish there was a way to do it. To extract it. To destroy it. To run as far away from it as possible. But it's there...deep, deep within me. I hate it. It deceives. It robs. It hurts.
It constantly tries. It continually reminds. It carefully calculates. Sometimes I feel as if I may have won...but a thought arises...and there I am...face to face with it. Reminded again of its presence.
I don't have to look far to see the evidence. Its presence has forever etched scars in my heart. Scars that remind me of my failures and entice me to stop trying...scars that remind me of hopes that were crushed and whisper to me the misery of living for Another...scars that still ache with deep pain and no promise of healing. All results of it...
Indwelling sin.
Indwelling sin that calls and cries for a home in my heart.
It screams to me that God's love is not enough.
It whispers to me the misery of being ruled by my Creator.
It reminds me of things that I have surrendered...and beckons me to take them off the altar and back into my control.
But what it continually forgets is the Presence of Another. One that controls the wind and the waves. One that creates and completes. One that satisfies and strengthens. One that was, and is, and will be....forever.
It forgets that Christ's blood has purchased and pardoned...that Christ's death paid the penalty for my past, my present, and my future...and that my battered and bruised heart is held in the nail-scarred hands of One who bled on my behalf.

So it can keep crying...but I'm calling out to the One who's conquered.
It can keep trying...but I'm clinging to the One who suffered for me.
Go ahead..Keep reminding me of all that I do not have, all that I could have if I'd just give up...
But you'll find me here. Resting in the arms of the One who's love knows no limits... sheltered beneath the shadow of the Almighty...and forever standing in the victory that is mine because of Christ.

ABC's and 123's

Laura and I had our first Portuguese lesson. It was fun to finally be able to get started and to ask our teacher some things that have been confusing us.
We worked on two basic verbs...and numbers. I think it's so funny to go back to square one...learning sounds, the alphabet, numbers, everything from the beginning. You realize why kids sleep so much. It's such an overload of the brain... Trying to recall meanings, decode words, use contextual clues in order to assimilate a response, then trying to reproduce sounds that are unfamiliar to your tongue in order to give your response. This definitely gives me a great appreciation for the struggle that students go through when English isn't their primary language...or even a secondary language. I can't imagine how exhausted they must be after doing this for a solid day!

Laura and I are having fun with it though. We sat down tonight and watched some Portuguese news. It was quite hilarious to guess at what we think the news is broadcasting. We've decided...Portugal's health system is in a crisis, people need money and they don't know where it should come from, the unemployment rate is 10.9%, and that this is a direct result of socialism (ok, we added that last part). Whether or not any of these things were actually being broadcast...well, we're not too sure. :) But it was awfully fun guessing.

And when all else fails-- Sarah, Laura, and I have decided to create a few of our own Portuguese words. Tem rhuberbo? :)

So just to give you a picture of what I am pretty sure I sound like learning Portuguese, I thought I'd post this. I'll let you guess which character I tend to be. :)

Are we sure this gift is dead?

:)
Now, I hope you genuinely know that what I am about to say is completely and totally intended to be sarcastic...but are we seriously certain that speaking in tongues is dead?
Let me explain. It has been completely and utterly mind boggling to me...somehow, in the midst of a church service that is in Portuguese, the Lord allows me to completely understand the parts of the message that are exactly what I need to hear. This past Sunday was no exception...in fact, something the Lord was convicting me on ended up being a major point in the service. Even though I didn't understand the entire message, somehow, that section of the sermon was crystal clear to me. I sat there, chuckling to myself saying, "Yes, Lord...you would allow me to understand this part of the message in its entirety. I get it, Lord....I get it."
"Commitment to Christ means being committed to people. Loving Christ means you must love people."
All people. The ones that frustrate...the ones that irritate...the ones that aggravate...
It doesn't really matter where I've been...this has been the consistent life lesson that God continues to hammer into my heart.
"Love people, Erin...because I love people. Love the people that hurt you, because I love them. Love the people that use you, because I love them. Love the people that disappoint you, because I love them. Love the people that are hard to love, because I love them. Love people...not because you'll receive anything in return...but simply because you love Me, and I love them. Love, Erin...love."
And in God's sovereignty...guess what verses we are memorizing in 5th/6th grade Bible?
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs."
My love is lacking. I don't see people. I see flaws. I see pet peeves. I see inconveniences. I see...me. What I would rather do...where I would rather be...what I would rather enjoy.
But following Christ means being committed to people. It means loving them. It means daily moments of dying to me, Erin Wahlstrom, and living for Jesus Christ. Sometimes I think of Christ's love like mine...I imagine him sighing when he sees Peter start to open his big mouth...or secretly rolling his eyes to John when Thomas questions him yet again...or even shooting Judas some dirty looks from across the table. I'll never comprehend the perfect love that Christ has for people. To see us in our sinful humanity...and yet love us despite all our faults. He doesn't merely "put up" with people. He truly, genuinely loves them.
I know me...and I know that if Christ can truly, genuinely love me--with my ridiculous flaws, my continual failures, and my sinful heart...then I can deny love to no one.
So here's my heart...
committed to following Christ...
committed to loving people.

Remembering to run...

There are a lot of days in my life that I'd like to forget. September 11, 2001 is not one of them.
It was incredibly sad to me last year as I discussed 9/11 with my class. I realized that they were the last class of fifth and sixth graders that would even have a vague memory of that day. Their memories were so different than mine...while I personally felt the grief of watching our country attacked...they remembered something altogether different. They remembered the grief of their parents...the fear of watching their mom or dad's shock, the confusion of not understanding why mom was for the first time glued to the television.
I have so many memories of that day, but my memories are not important. It's the memories of the ones who willingly entered their graves to save others that are important...or the ones who boarded a plane for a vacation only to end up sacrificing their lives for the untold thousands that could have died if things would have gone as planned...
I found this video a while ago...to me, what was so impacting was understanding that this was preached to a congregation in New York right after 9/11. I'm grateful for the sacrifices that were made in the moment...and I want to continually remember to be one of the ones running into destruction...desperate to save those that are on their way to Hell.
Run...

potluck thoughts...

I've absolutely LOVED these first three days of school. It feels so good to finally be back in the classroom, back into a routine, and doing exactly what I am called to do. I am so humbled with the privilege of working with my students and their families. I have been praying for each one of them by name since the beginning of this summer, so it is so exciting to finally be with them.

I love being here at GLCA. God so perfectly knows what we need at each stage of our lives...and for me, He knew that for right now, this is the perfect fit. I wake up every morning (all three of them so far) excited to be with my students, excited to work with them, and excited for what God wants to do in and through them. I can't wait for our girls high school Bible study to start. I haven't met a ton of the girls, so I am excited to get to know them as well.

I'm thrilled to be starting language lessons soon. It's so hard to want so desperately to talk with someone at church or at the cafe and be so limited with language. One of my goals in coming to Portugal was to be intentional. I decided I wanted to purpose to go to the same places frequently to build relationships with the Portuguese people. I am hoping and praying that as I pick up more language, eventually these relationships will be able to be directed towards spiritual things. I know I have high expectations of myself. I've only been here two weeks, and I am already irritated with myself because I don't know more...I have to keep reminding myself..."in time, in time."

It's hard not to think of the future here as well. I already find myself thinking, "How am I going to walk away from this in two years?" or "God, you wouldn't lead me here for two years and then move me someplace else, would you?" Oh the ponderings of the perpetual planner...always looking ahead to what is next. And while that characteristic is a strength in teaching...it's my greatest weakness in life. So...I'm attempting to consistently remind myself to live in the moment, to walk in the light God has given me, and to TRUST that as He led me here...He will again lead me to the next step...whether or not that is on the cobblestones of Portugal or the paved sidewalks of America ("or Africa or Asia...the choice is up to you!" sorry...just came to me), I don't know. But that's ok...I don't need to.

I think I've just been shocked...I see all these desires, interests, and passions that I have had since what feels like forever. I've never really known how all those things fit together or why God made me this way to begin with...but everyday I see more and more of how those fit together in the puzzle that is my life. And while it is incredibly exciting...it's...well...it's weird. To think that God made me like this, and I am 26 and just now understanding perhaps a HINT of why He put those things within me. I am not saying I am anywhere CLOSE to having it all figured out yet...nowhere near at all. It's just been neat to see some of these things, these pieces of my heart, start to fit together. And for the pieces that I don't understand, He already knows exactly how and where they fit. And maybe, just maybe...when I'm 79...I'll know just what I'm doing with my life. :)

better is one day...

"Among the gods there is none like you, O Lord; no deeds can compare with yours.
All the nations you have made will come and worship before you, O Lord; they will bring glory to your name. For you are great and do marvelous deeds; you alone are God. Teach me your way, O LORD,and I will walk in your truth; give me an undivided heart,that I may fear your name. I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever. For great is your love toward me; you have delivered me from the depths of the grave." Psalm 86:8-13

I love finding a place to meet with God. I find that for me, it's absolutely necessary. A place to escape, to pour out my heart either on the pages of a journal, or just out loud. When I lived on my own, my place was my closet. Fortunately for me, those walls will never talk. At school, my place was the last pew in the auditorium. Last year I spent so many late evenings there in the darkness pouring out my heart. I love my places. For me, they are the places where God met me...where He broke my heart to the point of surrender...places where He comforted...places where He used His Word to convict.
I love my place here. I love how God knew I would need such a place...and in His perfect provision, He gave me one. I know this place will be dear to me. I know it will be in this place where He will again convict, again comfort, and again lead me to surrender when I attempt to cling to what is not mine.

I spent this afternoon in my place with my God. I guess I don't know how to describe the comfort in the familiarity of being with Him...even though nothing around me is familiar. I'm so thankful for a God not bound by place...who is willing and ready to meet with anyone seeking Him.

God continues to remind me that He wants more...more of my heart...more of my love. More. Until He has all. All my devotion. All my hope. All my passion. All of me. All.
It's such a process...I find that a conversation, a song, a fleeting thought-- all reveal little by little things that I am clinging to. Hopes that are in things rather than in Christ. Desires that are selfish. Plans that are for personal comfort, rather than for the glory of God. Little by little...He shows me who I am and who He wants me to be.

Today was no different. Another day of begging the Lord to be my passion, my joy, my love, my all. Another time where He showed me my hands that were grasping and clinging to something other than His. Another sweet moment of surrender...one that will be etched forever in my memory in my place.

Psalm 86 has been my cry today. Oh that my heart would be undivided...that with my whole heart I would glorify Him forever! What an incredible love...He not only saves me...He sanctifies me.

So how many girls does it take to lift a Honda Civic?

Apparently more than two.
This afternoon my roommates and I decided we'd venture out to Dolce Vita. Now, none of us knew exactly how to get there, but with the help of the Garmin (did I mention how much I love my Garmin?)...we thought we'd attempt it. Much to our surprise, we didn't have any trouble finding it.
As we pulled into the parking garage, I shut off the Garmin and we began looking for a parking spot. Now parking in Portugal is another great mystery to me. People park on sidewalks, they park behind other vehicles, and today I even saw this...

Dolce Vita, however, has an incredibly advanced parking system (as advanced as parking lots can get...I guess). They have lights in front of each space to show you if it is taken or open, color coded lots, and an ingenious numbering system.
I think we were already a little frazzled when we pulled into the lot because we missed the lot we were used to parking in...but as we wandered through trying to find a spot...traffic started to back up behind us. Finally, we located a free spot and began to pull in. The poor driver, who will remain nameless...but it wasn't me...:), started to pull in, but realized quickly that the cement wall was closer than it originally appeared. As an observer in the passenger seat, I calmly assessed the situation...small car, pulled sideways...cement corner...fairly close to car. The driver began to back in and out and attempt to put some distance between us and the cement. I didn't think things were quite as bad as they appeared...until I saw the driver stop driving, roll down the window, peer out....and begin to pray. It was in that moment that I remembered a previous trip to Portugal in which Ryan and Rob attempted and successfully lifted a vehicle. I popped out the passenger side, told the other passenger to get out...and explained that we would simply move the vehicle. Until now, I thought we were just coming close to hitting the cement...when I went over to the driver's side...I realized we were already touching the cement.
All those stories of a mother's adrenaline giving her the strength to lift a vehicle in order to save her child popped into my head...and I was convinced that in a massive feat of strength the two of us girls would be able to lift it and prevent the inevitable damage.
It was at this point that two Portuguese men walked by, turned around and began conversing about our predicament. For some reason, it never occurred to me to learn, "Excuse me sir, but we had some trouble parking and now our car is stuck against the corner of this cement column. Would you be willing to assist us as we attempt to lift our vehicle?" in Portuguese. (Which by the way, I will definitely include in the language book of useful phrases I WISH I would have known...along with "I'm probably really going to botch what I am about to try to say to you, but I really AM trying.")
As I watched our source of help walk away, I resolved that we'd do it without them. The two of us braced ourselves, envisioned kids underneath the vehicle (ok, maybe not the other girl...but I did), and mustered all the strength we had to lift the vehicle. I'm pretty sure it maybe moved a centimeter...ok, maybe a millimeter. Regardless, the driver attempted to pull forward and somehow, God enabled her to get the vehicle out without removing the rear driver's side door.
After we all calmed down...the three of us began laughing hysterically. My favorite quote from the driver as we were walking into the mall post hysterical laughter was, "I think I just lost a year of my life."
On a side note, I also learned today that yesterday I ordered a coffee and a gas pump. Oh what an adventure these two years are going to be! :)

I am truly enjoying my time in God's Word here. I am not sure why it seems so much sweeter...perhaps the prayers of people...maybe the knowledge that I won't necessarily understand the next sermon...I don't know...but I love it.
One thing that has just been literally jumping off the pages of Scripture to me is God's desires for me. It seems as if I cannot read a passage or open my Bible without the same message pounding my heart: God DESIRES to satisfy me. It isn't His desire that I hunger and thirst for fulfillment elsewhere...He offers it repeatedly throughout Scripture. I know this concept...but what has been newly refreshed in my mind is that He does satisfy...even when the things I think will fulfill me are removed, withheld, or stripped away. His Word says, "praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits--who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things." He takes my desires...and He satisfies them...with GOOD things. They might not be what I think I need to be fulfilled...but they will fulfill. I think what God has been impressing upon my heart is that when I am unfulfilled...or unsatisfied...it is of my own choosing. It is because I am not willing to bow my knee and submit to what God desires to give me to satisfy me. I think as I reflect on the past, I recognize that when I have been unsatisfied it is because I am unwilling to admit that what God gives me is sufficient. I refuse to recognize the grace He extends for the trial, or the peace He would provide if I would acknowledge Him. Rather I dwell on what I think I need to be content/satisfied/happy. Really, when I choose to live feeling unsatisfied, it is because I have rejected the fulfillment God offers. And if I am really honest, it's because I don't want Him to fulfill me His way. I want it my way.
One of the other teachers (Meredith) and I were discussing sheep today. She mentioned that a friend who worked with sheep once told her that sheep aren't really stupid. They're stubborn. When they get something in their head, even if it isn't safe or good for them...they continue to pursue it. Why? Because they want it.
God has just been reminding me to make sure I continue to make my "wants"(desires) align with His. I don't ever desire to live unfulfilled and unsatisfied again. I am so thankful God has shown and PROVED to me that He truly does satisfy. All this week I have just been in awe of the good things God has given that have satisfied me in ways I never thought possible. His Word reminds me over and over of His continual, faithful, and immense love for me. But what amazes me more than anything is that He would not only choose to send His precious, only Child to die in my place, but that He would also choose to allow me to live with fulfillment. He doesn't have to be so good to me. But He is.

Umm...I don't know... :)

I have a new appreciation for toddlers. I feel like right now, my understanding of the world around me, my language abilities, and my skills in a foreign country are putting me right around the mental age of about an 18 month old. I've realized for the first time today that I tend to respond like Evie (who far surpasses my abilities here) when I don't understand what's going on...blank stare in the eyes, big smile and..."Ummm...I don't know." Only in Portuguese. :)

A few of my blunders from the past two days...
Yesterday...
For some reason, I'm just going to chalk it up to my extreme lack of coordination, I cannot seem to use the shopping baskets here. In Portugal you have to put a token in to get a shopping cart because they are all locked. Rather than use a big shopping cart, I thought I'd use a shopping basket. They are MUCH bigger than ones in the States and they have a handle you can pull up and then wheel your basket around the store (kind of like rolling backpacks...which I always refused to get when my dad tried to insist multiple times that they were not "uncool"). Well, my basket started to get heavy with school things and big plastic organizing shelves,so I decided to start wheeling it around. Apparently, I cannot wheel and walk at the same time, because I kept tripping on the thing. Finally in the middle of the produce aisle the basket caught on my heel and as I lifted my leg to walk and attempted to turn the cart around the corner, the whole thing went flying across the floor. All my things fell out of cart and the plastic organizers alerted everyone to look in my direction with their hideously loud crash. Now, I am used to falling, tripping, and in general doing things that would embarrass the normal person...so normally this wouldn't bother me...but I already felt like people were staring at me oddly and then when I did this...I couldn't even look up. I just scrambled to pick things up and kept my head down. I'm sure the roots of my hair turned red. :)

Today...
I tried to pay four a half euros for three small pieces of bread. I know...it did sound like a ridiculous price...but 45 cents sounded too cheap and I knew I recognized a four and a five in what she said to me. So I stood there...like a kid at the checkout line hoping somehow the coins in my hand would magically equal the amount she was saying. I started pulling out every different quantity of coinage that I had while repeating the number she said out loud over and over...hoping somehow my brain would process what she had said. Finally I handed her five euros and asked her if it was enough. Her face was priceless. She looked at me...looked at my coins...and then back at me as if she was trying to determine if I was serious...or mentally challenged. Finally she slowly picked up the smallest coin I had and said, "Just this is enough." It was fifty cents. I felt about 2. Then she turns to me and says, "You don't speak Portuguese, do you?" in Portuguese. Sheepishly I shrugged and replied, "Nao." (no). At least maybe she had determined that it wasn't necessarily my mental abilities...just a language deficiency....and on the positive side, maybe my repeating and "Pigeon Portuguese" sounded like I knew what I was doing...maybe. ;)

I think it's a blast...blunders and all...to try to navigate, learn, and experience these things independently. There's nothing like people-watching (which I love anyways) for survival...trying to observe how they pay, when they pay, what others respond when they ask questions I don't understand, figuring out what is appropriate to do or not to do there, and just how other people interact. It's an adventure...and some days I am definitely more successful than others. Today just wasn't that day. :)

Lay It Down

Lay It Down
by Matt Maher
Everything I am
Everything I long to be--
I lay it down at Your feet.
Everything I am
Everything I long to be--
I lay it down at Your feet.
O Pearl of greatest price,
No act of sacrifice,
Can match the gift of life
I find within Your gaze!
O--What a sweet exchange,
I die to rise again,
Lifted up from the grave,
Into Your hands of grace.

A friend of mine introduced me to this song...and it's been completely gripping my heart. There are so many things I am that I would rather change. There are so many things that I would far rather be but am not. And I sense even more tonight the Lord asking for me to lay those things at His feet. I don't know how the next two years of my life fit into God's ultimate plan for me. I do know that nothing He's asked of me yet...or will ever ask of me could ever match His sacrifice for me. As hard as it is to lay my plans for my future down at His feet, and as much as I struggle to leave them at His feet...I remember: He is good. His plans for me are good. And He LOVES me.

Psalm 138:8
"The Lord will fulfill HIS PURPOSE for me; Your love, O Lord, endures forever-do not abandon the works of Your hands."

So you know you live in Portugal when...

You hang your laundry from the window of your kitchen five floors up from the street.

Which...isn't really a problem...until I drop something. I have a feeling I might become acquainted with the person who lives in 1C.

The past few days I've been able to spend some time with different missionary families. They have been so gracious in opening up their homes to us.
Today I was able to spend some time reading God's Word at a little cafe close to our house. I had to laugh because I felt so successful with simply being able to order and pay completely by myself without anyone else with me. It's the little things, I guess, when you move to a country where you don't speak the language.
However, success eluded me later in the day. Laura and I followed another vehicle to a part of Portugal that we were unfamiliar with this evening. Evidently, the road we were taking has new tolls. We took our ticket and continued following till it was time to exit the road and pay our toll. We followed the "context clues" (I am becoming an expert on trying to look, read, and interpret context clues these days...)on the toll and followed the pictures by putting our ticket in the slot. Apparently our ticket was invalid (or something...we never did really figure it out). We, however, could not understand what the automated machine kept telling us to do when it rejected our ticket. Poor Laura...she was leaning as far out of the vehicle as possible turning the ticket every direction she could simply trying to get the machine to accept it so it would stop yelling at us. All the sudden we hear a live woman's voice telling us what to do. Again, neither one of us had a clue. Laura finally said, "English?" and the unidentified voice shouted, "Nao!" (no) and continued to speak Portuguese louder to us.
At this point, the vehicle we were following had pulled over to the side, so I got out of our vehicle and ran through the toll to find someone in the other car who speaks Portuguese.
All in all, by the time we got back to Laura, a man had already come to our aid and inserted the ticket in a different slot for us. We felt pretty ridiculous.
The day ended well, though. Laura's bags ALL arrived today. :)

Settling in...

I had every intention of writing yesterday...but I was too tired. :)
So, I'm going to try my best to recap what was probably one of the craziest days of my life.
If you want the short summary...My flight schedule was totally messed up, I almost never found my flight TO Portugal, and after arriving...I almost died...eight times.
For more details, let me start at the beginning.
Before my flight I went out to eat with my parents. Being the incredibly punctual people they are, they decided to get me to the airport at 12:00 p.m. (for the record, my flight wasn't leaving until 2:47 p.m. AND it was from Des Moines International Airport...not exactly a buzzing or busy place. However, the Lord used their desire to be there with plenty of time.
As I unloaded my four bags and went to check them at the counter, the man informed me that due to delays I wouldn't be able to connect in Boston. He very graciously spent the next forty minutes trying to figure out how to best help me. Due to the way my ticket was purchased, he could not give me a boarding pass for my Boston to Lisbon flight. He explained what to do when I arrived in Boston and what papers they would need to see there. Because of the delay, he bumped me to a departure from Des Moines at 12:55 instead of 2:47 p.m. I quickly prayed with Pastor, Ronette, and my mom and dad, said good-bye, and hustled to my gate. I made it without any problems to Chicago, and then from Chicago to Boston. When I arrived in Boston, I hustled to the screen to find my gate...lo, and behold...there was no flight to Portugal listed. I kept going to different screens hoping I would find it. Finally, I decided that asking someone might be quicker. I walked up to a counter and asked them to tell me what gate TAP Portugal flew from. The agent replied, "Hmmm, well I know it's no where here...I think it's terminal E." So I headed to Terminal E.
Oh, terminal E... as I began walking and following the signs, I started to think that this was probably not going to be the easiest thing to find. The signs led me to the baggage claim area...and ended.
I stood in baggage claim for a while and finally asked someone in a uniform where the mysterious terminal E was. He said I was heading in the right direction and to continue walking past baggage claim to the right. Well, to the right I went.
As I began walking, I realized I was now completely alone in a very dark hallway with no signs except signs on doors that said, "Restricted Access: Only authorized personnel." There were no signs pointing to Terminal E. I felt as if I was definitely someplace I should NOT be. Thankfully God provided two incredibly kind men. I saw them quite a distance from me so I ran to where they were to ask them.
I said, "Excuse me, but am I heading to terminal E?"
"Yup, just keep following us. By the way, what flight are you looking for?"
I responded, "Tap Portugal."
"We haven't flown that in years here in Boston...you sure?"
I frantically pulled out my ticket and showed him
"Hmm...I wonder if it is actually a different company," he said.
I am praising the Lord for these two men. They led me through more of the dark hallway, outside the building across the little street into a brand new building, up a stairwell, and around the corner. There is no way I ever would have found terminal E.
After locating Laura, terminal E, then finally boarding...I decided I would never fly through Boston again. :)
Thankfully, once our flights landed, all my lugguage arrived. Unfortunately, only one of Laura's bags arrived. Pray that they are able to find the rest!
After we arrived we were greeted by Cal and Joyce. Joyce, Laura, and I took a taxi back to our apartment because Cal had to leave to meet someone. Little did we know that this taxi ride could have potentially been our first and last moment in Portugal.
From the moment we got in the taxi, we knew we were in for it. The driver completely gunned out of the parking spot and started honking and raising his hand at the other drivers. He careened into a roundabout cutting off a few drivers already in the roundabout and then proceeded to gun the accelerator even though there was a vehicle coming to a stop in front of us. He proceeded to try to manipulate his way through two cars that only had about two feet between them. I have never been so sure I was going to die so many times!! Really...I'm not exaggerating.
My favorite part of the ride, however, was watching Joyce. :) She would speak to him in Portuguese, apologize to us in English, and sign to him to slow down. I loved it. Due to an accident, he took us to districts Joyce had never seen...it was quite an adventure...one I pray I never have to repeat. I counted at least eight times he came within centimeters of hitting someone. Joyce said she'd never been in a ride quite like this. The whole time all I could think was, "Now THIS is a Bourne ride." :)
Today we conquered the grocery store...and........I DROVE!!! :)
Ok, not very far...but I did it none the less. You'd be happy to know I went the right way in all the round-a-bouts. My only problem, however, was parking. Our apartment is difficult for me to park in. I'll get it though. :)

Overwhelmed

So it is officially six days until I board the plane to Portugal. I spent the morning packing and wondering how on earth I was going to fit everything into my bags. After a few hours of that, I decided to get away and do one of my favorite things for one of the last times: sit at my coffee shop and read God's Word and a missionary biography.
Before I sat down to read I shot an email to one of my roommates and before I closed my computer I decided to reminisce through some pictures of Portugal. And then...it hit me. Right in the middle of the coffee shop.
God's goodness...my desperate cries for direction for the past few years...strong desires...human obstacles...sitting on the beach in Portugal begging God to let me be there in a year...and everything He has done in the past year to answer that prayer.
I've never been so overwhelmed with God's leading in my life before. I can hardly comprehend why He'd allow this...of all the things I've prayed and asked Him for...but I am so grateful. Some days I've been afraid of leaving...worried about fitting in...thinking about the transition...leaving good friends behind...

But not today. Today...I can't fathom how God could be so GOOD to me. I have spent the past year watching him fulfill a desire He put in my heart when I was in high school. It has definitely not always been an easy road...and He had to do a lot of chipping away and refining of my heart to get me here...but I can't imagine doing any thing other than what I am doing right now.

And as I sit here crying into my keyboard and trying to avoid the odd looks I'm getting from the strangers around me...I recognize that this is what is to follow Jesus. The things I said I'd never do...I'll do them if He asks me to. The things I thought I always wanted for my life...I'll give them up if He asks me to. The people I think I need...I'll gladly leave them behind if He leads me on. Because when I follow Jesus...He not only satisfies my every longing...He OVERWHELMS my heart with his goodness.

So I'm going to savor these tears...and pray that somehow they bring honor to the King...that these tears would reflect a heart that is absolutely overwhelmed with love for Him.

It's 3 a.m. and I can't stop thinking...

Sleep is not coming very easily lately. Normally in the summer I do take full advantage of being a teacher and enjoy staying up later...but this is different. My mind is processing so many things...I find I lay in bed and wonder, "Where did I put that pair of pajama pants? Did I already put it in the space bag? Or is it somewhere else? Should I reopen the space bags again? Or just risk not having them?"
I've spent the past week packing. That's right. A week. I had no idea how difficult it would be! I have already packed and re-packed my bags four times...and I know it won't be the last.
I'm learning a lot about myself in this process.
1) I get overwhelmed in the midst of disorganization. Obviously I had to tear apart my closet and dressers to start packing...but about ten minutes into the process, all I could do was sit in the midst of my bedroom with my clothes all over the floor and my suitcase in front of me and stare. I finally realized I just have to deal with the mess until I leave. It isn't going to get any better until I'm heading out the door.
2) I have WAY too much stuff. 'Nough said.
3) I am an extreme person. Not like extreme sports..definitely not like that. More like...all or nothing. I either want to take everything...or a backpack. I was bordering on EVERYTHING thinking it'd be worth it to just know I have what I need...then I stumbled upon http://www.onebag.com/ ....and I seriously considered it... I need more balance. ;)
4) I really just want to pack people to take with me. Everytime I drive out to go get coffee with my friends...I realize how much it really hasn't hit me yet that I won't be able to just "get coffee" with them in 2 weeks. I know that I'll be fine...and yes, I will miss them...but I'll survive. I just have amazing friends...they've been there through disappointments, cried with me, laughed with me, but most of all...they know me. And I'm going to miss them more than I probably know.
All in all...I think it's those things, packing and leaving, that keep me awake at almost 3 a.m.
That...or maybe my Caramel Macchiato wasn't decaf after all.... :)