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. :)