"Are these my glasses?"

Sometimes writing is clarifying. It is in writing that my mind organizes emotions, thoughts, and words. All day long I've felt like I need to just sit and write. As if somehow putting everything on paper or "screen" will make everything come together and make sense...but there are some things that I know are just meant to be blurry right now. In some odd way, I feel as if God has put glasses on my eyes that aren't my prescription. My eyes are straining terribly to make sense of the blurriness...but no matter how hard they try, they just won't bring the picture into focus. And what makes absolutely no sense in all of this is the tremendous peace I feel in knowing I'm supposed to be temporarily blinded. I know right now my vision isn't supposed to be clear. Things are supposed to be hazy. I'm not supposed to recognize the objects in my path yet.

I've spent today pondering Scripture. All day I've been craving it... and any free moment I've had I've been in it. I just feel like I can't move...can't function...can't do another minute without it. I wish I could say I was always like this...but more than ever I've been drawn to it.

I think more than any other point in my life I've been realizing that I have no hope and no future apart from God. I have no plan. I don't know anything. I don't even know what I want. He's stripped me of plans, dreams, and ambitions. And just when I thought I'd perhaps figured out one thing...he's shown me another that makes no sense...to me.

I'd love to believe that God is up to something big. That at any moment he's going to rip off my coke bottle glasses and yell, "Surprise! See what I've been up to?" But deep in my heart I feel like I've lost hope in that. Or maybe it isn't even a loss of hope. Maybe it is an acknowledgment that I don't deserve any dreams I've ever had. The clay doesn't ask the Potter to make it a vase. The sheep doesn't tell the Shepherd where to lead it. The servant doesn't tell the Master what he wants to do. So why should I even hope? Or plan? Or dream?

And that's my heart. Numb. Naked. With nothing but God's Word to cover, protect, guide, and lead it...

I think everybody has a wilderness. We might not spend forty years there (at least I hope I don't have to spend forty years in mine...), but at some point in our lives I think we all pass through. And while we have no promise or direction as to when it will end, we can be certain of this: We are never alone. And peace is promised.

So, I do what I know I am called to do today: Love God. Love people. Serve God. Serve people. And his peace, which far surpasses any minute claim to understanding I might make, guards me as I walk with coke bottle glasses through the wilderness.

Who is that girl I see?

Can I tell you something? Something odd? Something weird is happening to me...and I can't figure it out. Maybe you can. And maybe you can tell me what it all means...
Today...I went to church, tried to talk unsuccessfully to a visitor (I asked her a question, couldn't understand her response...and felt like I might do more damage than good by trying to follow up without understanding her), made lunch, went grocery shopping, unloaded my groceries, cut up another whole chicken (which...went MUCH better than last time), made more chicken stock, made muffins, made a pumpkin spice latte with real pumpkin, cleaned my bathroom, cleaned my bedroom, and then skyped with friends. My friends were in the middle of enjoying a weekend of shopping. As I skyped with them between stores...all the sudden I realized...I wouldn't trade my day to be there shopping and buying stuff. I actually enjoyed every part of my day. Even pulling the legs of the chicken out of socket (and that's saying something). What is that? And who am I?
This is not Erin Wahlstrom from three years ago. Or even one year ago. But you know...I like this me better. And I don't know what on earth this is all preparing me for...I hypothesize that I'll either be living in a foreign country the rest of my life, extremely poor, or somewhere far from civilization, or D...all of the above.
I guess time will tell...and only God knows. :)

Kids say....

I love teaching. Life is never dull...and I am always surprised by things my kids say and do.
Today during Bible class we were reading through Revelation 21 and 22 and discussing what heaven would be like. When we got to 21:22 where John describes that there will be no temple because then Lord is the temple, I asked, "So what is the significance of these verses?"
All the sudden one of my boys shouted out, "I know what that means! NO CHURCH! Sweet! I can never sit still in church...it's so LONG."
Heaven from the eyes of an eleven year old boy.
:)

Day-Makers

Lately I have been wrestling so much with discouragement. I feel more and more that there is a very, very small handful of people, both here and in the States that I truly connect with. I knew that would be part of this life...and to some extent I was ready for that to happen in the States. But more and more I find that I don't necessary connect well with the people I think I should. Which, to some great extent has been a huge push for me to delve into Portugal...the language and the people. For that I am grateful...

But, nonetheless it has been at times disheartening. What I love about God today is that, while his Word is absolutely sufficient, and his presence promised...sometimes he knows when we need more. And the Lord knew how badly I needed that because he gave me three huge gifts this past week that just made my day. Well.. days... :)

1) a letter from a national that I will value more than anything else I've ever received or bought here in Portugal

2) a weekend of two nights spent with Portuguese friends...

3) and this conversation today at school...

Student 1: "So are you leaving after this year?"

Me: "Ummmm.....well.....I mean, I would need money to stay..."

Student 1: "Because it would be a waste for you to go back...you've learned so much Portuguese...."

Me: "Yeah...I know....but I--"

Student 1: "You should stay and you could teach us in high school!"

Me: "This is your second year with me as your teacher...are you sure you would really want me again?"

Student 2: "Actually...I prayed you would be my teacher again..."

Student 1: "Yeah...we want you."

Probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.... Granted, it is the FIRST day of school. Give them a week... :)

How 'bout them....chickens? ;)

Today I lost it. And by "lost it"...I mean my mind. I was walking through the grocery store mentally calculating how much things were. Then, I went for my last item: chicken. I scoured the chicken section for the best deal. Spend 7.80 euros for chicken breasts? Or 5.30 euros for shredded raw chicken? Then I started calculating how many dollars that would actually cost me...$11.12 for chicken? You have got to be kidding me!

I kept searching for a better deal...when this caught my eye...



I walked away. Because, let's be honest...I've never had a great relationship with meat. It just makes me sick. But I kept looking at the price per kilogram. Six euros per kilogram...or two? How could I pay four euros more?
So I put it in my basket and darted to the checkout before I changed my mind.
I got home...stared at the chicken...googled "how do I cut up a whole chicken?"...stared at the pictures...stared at the chicken...debated if it was really worth the savings...grabbed my apron, three knives...and took this picture...just so you'd know approximately how I was feeling. :)



Other than a few screams when I had to pull the legs out of socket...and pluck off a few remaining feathers...I handled it pretty well, considering.
AND...not only did I save money...I also made my own chicken stock out of the carcass for one of my meals this week. :)

Oh the life of someone getting paid in the dollar...and living on the euro.
It's making me do things I never thought possible. :)

A Letter...

I've officially lived in Portugal for over a year...which seems entirely impossible. In celebration, I wrote a thank you letter to the country I've called home for 12 months....

Dear Portugal,
I don't even know where to begin. It sounds ridiculous to say it, but thank you. Thank you for patient people that smile. Thank you for loving tourists, Americans, and English. Thank you for introducing me to pasteis, roundabouts, a galão, and a million other things that I've been blessed to consider normal for the past year. Thank you for teaching me what diversity really looks like. Thank you for gently showing me that much of the world views things very differently than the majority of my family and friends...and that "different" isn't bad. It's simply different. Thank you for making me feel alive again...and reviving desires in my heart that were nearly dead.
I don't know how things will end between us... But know I'll always love you...and that wherever I end up, if it isn't with you, part of my heart will always long to be.

Love,
Erin

:)

Silence reigns...

I've tried to blog the past few days...but every time I start to... I edit myself. The following have been potential posts, but were cut....due to obvious reasons...
1) Yes, I know I'm tall...please stop staring...
2) 100 things NOT to say to a missionary
3) The next man that ogles my chest will get a kinesthetic reproduction of what the Philistines did to Samson...
4) 200 things you just shouldn't say to a single girl...unless your goal is to frustrate or humiliate her...
5) How do you say, "Get your nasty eyes off my chest." in Portuguese?
6) When you know you are surrounded by women...
7) So why can't we cast lots anymore?
8) My life in the fishbowl...
9) I don't know if you realized this...but I'm the GIRL. You telling me I should be with ____________ is pointless. Because I'm the GIRL. And I don't chase boys...
10) Didn't I tell you to get your nasty, filthy, trashy eyes...

Nope...just didn't think any were blog worthy.