Primark....

I think no matter where you are in the world, there will always be that one store that you absolutely can't stand...but can't afford NOT to shop there. In the States, it was Walmart. It's crowded, dirty, and all of last year I was afraid my car would fall into a sink hole trying to navigate through the parking lot that somehow turned into a land mine of potholes.

Here in Portugal, it's Primark. It's crowded, crowded, crowded, and unorganized. But the main frustration I have is that it's crowded. I tried really hard to look for some things I needed there today. I took a deep breath, dove into the crowds of people, and thought, "Alright, you can do this. You don't need space. You don't really need to be able to get out of the aisle. You like being stuck. Am I seriously stuck already? Is there a fire code limit for how many people can be in this place? I think we maxed the limit. And now there is a mound of clothing higher than MY head that is falling all around me taking up what little space I had left. What is that smell? Tee-shirts? People? I quit."

For the record, I made it all the way to the back of the store and in the process, I saw a girl trying on a bra OVER her clothes...and then I decided that no matter how good the deal was, there was no way on earth I was going to wait in line to purchase it.

And I've decided I will never step foot in there again on a Sunday. Not unless I get the insatiable urge to feel like I'm part of a herd of cattle being crammed into the back of a semi.

Forever Young

School ended yesterday.

One year...finished.

How on earth has time passed this quickly? It feels like just a few weeks ago I was sitting in my room packing for the eightieth time wondering how I'd adjust and what life would be like...

As I sat through graduation on Friday, I realized that in a lot of ways it feels like I'm in high-school all over again...approaching my senior year. Knowing that in approximately one year I'm supposed to have the rest of my life figured out and mapped out... being asked a million times if I know what I am doing after this...all the time wondering how I'm supposed to figure that out... Am I seriously old enough to make life decisions? As I've talked with a few of the high-school girls and have listened to them verbalize their fears/frustrations/excitement about the future...I feel right there with them. I feel eighteen...with excitement, anticipation, fear, and uncertainty welling up inside of me.

I realize that I don't miss being eighteen. When I was 25 and teaching in the States, no one pressured me with questions like, "So what are you thinking for the future?" I fully recognize and understand that it is a legitimate question for someone in my position. But it's still presumptuous...I barely understand what God's doing in my heart...and you want me to try to put into words what I myself can't quite figure out? One of these times I'm just going to say, "I really don't plan on making it that far..." or "Next year? Shoot...I thought Christ was coming back on May 21st so I haven't really thought about next year..." or "Well...I'm thinking of becoming a rapper..."

A few days ago someone asked me, "So...if you could do anything after this...what would it be?" and I responded, "I..eh...uh...hmm...well...er...that's a great question. I don't even know what I want."

Which I guess in a lot of ways is good. I've got no plans. God's going to have to make them for me.
That's IF I live for another year.
And IF Christ doesn't come back.
And IF being a rapper doesn't work out.

Just kidding... on the rapper part. :)

"God Room"

I realize over the last few months, I miss seeing God do big things. Things that are bigger than me. Things that seem impossible. Things that make no human sense.

Friday I was telling my class about some of the amazing things God did to allow me to be here. It made me long, once again, to see Him do those same big things.

Today I read in a journal about the principle of "God Room." It's a principle I firmly believe, but never named. The term was coined by the founder of a large mission. "God Room" is believing God to meet a need that is bigger than your human abilities to meet. This leader said, "Faith isn't required as long as you set your goal only as high as the most intelligent and expert human efforts can reach. You don't exercise faith until you have committed more than it's possible to give." And that's where "God Room" is... it's the gap that stands between the exhaustion of all your human effort and the desire or goal you long for. It's the place that only prayer and God can effect change.

I vividly remember so many different times when I knew all I had left was God room. He would have to move...He would have to do something...because there was nothing more I could possibly do.


I'm longing once again for more "God Room" in my life. I sat down today and made a list of all the things I know I am humanly incapable of doing...yet long to see happen. Some things are ridiculous...and truly impossible, humanly speaking. Yet, isn't that the point? These are the places in my life where I want to look back and say, "God did that...because there was no way I could have..." So here are the things I'm praying for...

1) Save Alina.
2) Change my brother.
3) Be fluent in Portuguese.
4) Use me in the cafe with the workers.


There are other things on my list...things I can't even post because they seem so ridiculous...so far-fetched. These are just a few of them. But I wonder what God thinks when I pray...I wonder if He's smiling just knowing how He's already planned to answer them...or if He gets excited when one of his children tries to think big...and then laughs when He realizes His child has no idea what "big" is...

I wonder...

A Symphony

Music has tremendous power. It can discourage, uplift, quiet, awaken, arouse, enthuse, and empower. My life could probably be described by my playlist. It wouldn't take long to figure out what I'm struggling with...what I love...or what I want. Simply look at my music...because it is the outpouring of my heart.

There are times when I hear a song, and I am transported to a time in my life when that song became significant to me. The other day, I heard a song that nearly brought me to my knees in a mix of overwhelming emotions.

I was listening to some girls around me sing. Suddenly I heard one of them quietly singing "He is Exalted" in Portuguese. Instantly I was transported to when I was sixteen and listening to a Twila Paris CD in my room. I remembered being fascinated with her recording of the song in Portuguese. I played it over and over until I had it memorized. I remembered wondering where God would one day send me...I remembered that every time we would sing the English version at church, I would quietly sing the Portuguese....just because. Because part of me knew I craved and longed for a world I'd never seen and a life I had never lived.

As I listened to her sing the words barely above a whisper...I sat in literal amazement. Who would have ever known that one day over ten years later, I'd be sitting on a bus with my Portuguese church listening to a 12 year-old girl sing that song?

What an amazing reminder to me of the incredible and overwhelming goodness of my God. Who is like Him? Who can plant desires that make no sense to a 16 year-old...yet one day begin to blossom into a beautiful part of a plan so complex that it could never have been scripted by any other? Who is like my God? Overwhelming in love, satisfying desires in His perfect time...desires that seemed elusive and impossible.

As I sat trying to remain composed, I wondered what the song would be ten years from now...I wondered how all these even more intense and complex desires will come together with God's plan. I know it's going to absolutely amaze me. I know I'll look back and sit in awe. I'll wonder how He did it once again...and I'll praise my God once more for doing what I never thought possible...

"Your love is a symphony all around me, running through me. Your love is a melody, underneath me, running to me. Your love is a song..."

Morning Laughter....

Student: "Miss Wahlstrom, I had the best breakfast this morning. You were right...breakfast really does make a difference."

Me: "Oh, really? What did you have?"

Student: "Chicken Flakes, an orange, toast, milk, and yogurt."

Me: Long pause..."Chicken Flakes?"

Student: "Yeah...they're really good."

Me: "What exactly are Chicken Flakes?"

Student: "It's cereal...you know...with a chicken on the box."

Me: "You mean.. Corn Flakes?"

Student: "Yeah, that's it...Corn Flakes. So...why do they have a chicken on the box?"

Me: "Good question."

I love my students. :)

The Journey to the Center of Portugal... :)

Yesterday was quite possibly the second longest day of my life. (The first one being the day I left to come to Portugal.)
I went on my first "Passeio" with my church. Anytime I've gone to an activity with my church, I've had to mentally prepare myself to just relax and plan to have no plan. This is partially because things just move at a different pace, but it's also because I don't always understand the plan even if they explain it.

We arrived at the church at 8:00 in the morning and loaded the bus up. Somehow, Laura and I found ourselves surrounded by all the children on the bus. This seemed like a good idea at the beginning...

About thirty minutes into the bus ride, it was announced that we would be stopping for a coffee. :) It was then that I realized once again how much I love this culture. We all hopped off the bus, walked into the rest stop/cafe, drank the coffee and got back on the bus to once again "start" the trip. During the drive, someone broke out a guitar and everyone began singing praise and worship songs in Portuguese. That's when the children around us began to realize we do not, in fact, speak Portuguese...or understand everything said. Two African boys began to watch us trying to sing along, started laughing, and then proceeded to spend the rest of the trip taking pictures of Laura and me. I'm pretty sure they have about 100 photos of us... at least.

We finally arrived at our first part of the journey (which for the record I thought was the only part to the journey). We stepped out of the bus and walked to the "exact center of Portugal." It's called "Ground Zero." We saw it, and then...as with any trip...I needed to the use the restroom. Now, as an American, I'm used to just taking care of myself...apparently, this trip was planned as a "group" event... and that somehow didn't get communicated to me. I walked off into the building to use the restroom. While I was waiting in line (because it doesn't matter where in the world you are, there will always be a line for the women's restroom), apparently the church thought we were lost. They were looking everywhere for us (which I don't really understand because it was a very small place...the only place we could have gone was rolling off the side of a cliff...which perhaps is where they were looking). When I finally stepped out of the restroom, I heard, "There she is!" in Portuguese. Mistake number one of the day. Lesson learned: Don't wander off without the group...even if you feel like you may pee your pants.

After we finished our time there, we loaded back into the bus. Once we were in, my pastor precedes to say, "Are we missing anyone? Are all the children here? Are the Americans here?" Laura and I about died. All TWO of the Americans were indeed on the bus... :) We realized then that we were about equivalent to the children...at least in their minds. Which, I do understand...that's about how we communicate and how much we understand.

We arrived at the next spot to have our lunch. As Laura and I pulled out our PB&J sandwiches, I watched in amazement as the older woman next to me reached into her purse and began pulling out a tablecloth. She set her section of the table with her china that was also mysteriously able to fit in her purse. Just when I thought surely nothing else could possibly come out of the bag, she proceeded to pull out a cooking pot full of meat she had made that morning. I felt in some way that my childhood dream of meeting Mary Poppins was finally a reality... and almost asked her if she had anything else in that bag... like a lamp. :)

Once we finished lunch, we realized we would have to wait a solid two hours to take a boat to a castle on an island. We stood. We sat. We walked. We perspired. We laughed. We tried to converse. We waited.

As the twenty-five people from church stood on the deck watching the boat finally arrive, I realized...I'm so ridiculously American. As I watched the sad-looking boat sag its way toward the dock, I thought, "I'm not stepping foot in that thing if they think we're all going to squeeze into that in one trip. No way. I'll see the castle from here, thank you very much." Thankfully, we did it in two trips. And as I was still having doubts about the safety of the boat, one of the guys from my church leans over and says, "Oh stop being so American and just get in the boat." :)

When we finished that part of the trip, I figured we would be on our way back home. Somehow, I had missed that we were going to another city after this as well. We walked around the city, went into a beautiful church where I'm pretty sure I, once again, upset some people (the workers of the church). Apparently before I walked into the church the director told everyone not to walk through the middle of the church. Apparently, it's a sacred thing (I have NO idea why...). I walked right down the middle, looked at the tombs, turned around and walked back up the middle aisle. One of the African boys looked at me with wide eyes and said, "You're not supposed to go down the middle!!!" One of the church members apologized for me on the way out...stating that I wasn't there when they had explained it. Woops.

We walked some more and arrived at a beautiful park. I thought the park was the destination we were wanting so I started walking around taking pictures and doing my own thing. Once again...it was the wrong thing. Apparently we were not there to see the park. Instead we were there to see a very small museum with Portuguese artifacts.

All in all, it was a great trip. Exhausting, hilarious, embarrassing...but lots of fun.

So I've decided that in addition to sitting at occupied tables in the States (see this post)...I'll be bringing back another thing as well... :)

I love that no matter how an item comes packaged, I can tear into it and take out the exact number that I want to purchase. Craving a coke but don't want to purchase the whole twelve-pack? No worries. Just rip into the box and take however many you want... Not up for a six-pack of milk? Go ahead...tear open a package and grab what you crave. (Yes, milk comes in boxes...I thought it would grow on me over time...it hasn't...I have thus concluded that whatever milk you grow up on is the only milk you'll ever really love. What I wouldn't give for a glass of AE....sigh.)

This whole idea of only paying for what you want...It's genius, really.

And I'm bringing it to the States. :)