Poland Mission Trip

I am heading off tomorrow for Kutno, Poland with a group of 5 other people from Re:Hope for 12 days. We will be serving at a camp run by OM missionaries that teaches teens conversational English.  In addition to classes the kids also take part in music, drama, sports, and crafts.  Poland is a predominently Catholic country, so the kids will probably have a lot of head knowledge of Christianity but not know what it means to dedicate your life to Christ and have an intimate relationship with him. Throughout the day we will be able to share our faith with the kids along with group worship times.  We could use your prayers… for travel safety, unity within our team and with the other missionaries we will be working with, good communication even through the language barrier, an overflowing amount of love to deal with all those teens, and courage to share our faith.

…and the walls came tumbling down

A little more from Beth Moore (week 5 of 9 so expect additional posts on this study).

Continuing through the Hall of Faith in Hebrews we come to Joshua and the walls of Jericho. “By faith the walls of Jericho fell, after the people had marched around them for seven days.” Hebrews 11:30.  It’s one thing to have faith that God will make you victorious when you go fully prepared and armed into battle, it’s another entirely when you take that step of faith that God will give you the victory completely in spite of your actions/plans.

It is easy to see those walls in our path.  Those things in our lives that loom over us and stop us in our tracks.  But while we are making tactics to go over, around or through them; often times we need to step back and rely on God to make those walls crumble to the ground.

Here is the topic that we were given to journal on.  I encourage you to give it some thought. (Unfortunately, my answer is a bit to private for a blog, so I am going to keep it confidential for now.)

I wonder if God is trying to get you to see what He sees about something in particular.  I know He is with me.  Let’s imagine standing next to God before our own personal Jerichos and leaning in closely so that we can see all the way down His outstretched arm until we gaze on the place where His index finger is pointing.  What would God be pointing out to you? Hear Him say to you, “See, Child? Would you please see this the way I do?  No, not through your eyes. Through the eyes of faith!” Today pinpoint what this particular Jericho may be for you. Don’t quickly assume. Keep in mind that we sometimes misdiagnose our own problems and fight the wrong foes.  Ask God to give you insight into any Jericho that stands between you and your promised land.  Then ask Him for the grace to follow Him there in triumphal procession.

Thriller

I have been going through a study with the women of Re:Hope by Beth Moore called “Believing God”.  This week the homework focused on the hall of faith heroes in Hebrews 11.  I found the lesson on Enoch really powerful.  While, you get countless stories about the other heroes in your Sunday school classes growing up, there is not usually much mention of Enoch.  Why? Probably because there isn’t much material to go off of.  The meat of what is said about him “…Enoch walked with God 300 years…” - Genesis 5:22.  He is mentioned in Paul’s top 10 (or so) on just this. Yet, what greater testament to a life of faith than to follow close after God your entire life. Here’s some excerpts of what Beth Moore said:

Oh, if only we’d follow and not run ahead or lag behind! Our perceptions have been so distorted by our world system that we fear God’s path may be right and respectable, but it’s sure to be boring.  Does that sound like the life described in 1 Corinthians 2:9?

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.”

The only way we will have an earthly experience with God that is more than ears have heard, eyes have seen, and minds have ever imagined is to walk with Him.  God has promised never to leave us or forsake us.  If we persist in our own way, the Spirit of God will accompany us (see Psalm 139:7-10), but we will walk ourselves right into a place that we may as well call less-than-land, the place of God’s permissive will.  When we choose to walk with God rather than off the path to handfuls of other options, we find His perfect will for our lives.  We find our promised land.

And later:

Dear One, God created us.  He knows what satisfies our souls and fulfills us.  Keep in mind that God created work before the fall.  He created us with a need to contribute to and participate in the harvest.  God could grant us victory and maturity without an ounce of participation on our parts, but He created us to be most satisfied by apprehending through diligent pursuit. Our salvation is a free gift of grace that demanded the work of Christ Jesus alone.  God made sure, however, that much of our fulfillment would involve the glorious pursuit of God and His goals so that our souls would be filled and thrilled in the constant discoveries.  When all is said and done, He knows what will thrill us most.

When my time on this earth is over, may the testimony of my life be “she walked with God”.  I am ready for the thrill ride.

Peculiar People

This past Saturday I got to see one of my favorite bands, MUTE MATH, perform in Glasgow.  The venue was absolutely tiny as they are not well known over here and this was their first UK tour. But lucky me, I was in the front row with one foot on the stage. I almost got beamed by the keytar.  It rocked! They have a unique sound and a even more unique stage presence (I got some great video). Awesome night!

All a bloom…

Last week on my drive to work I noticed these little green things popping out of the ground all over the city.  Now there are lovely purple and yellow crocuses all over the place (or is that croci … hee hee). Not getting into global warming….it was amazing to see all these little guys making an appearance in a month I usually relate with snow and ice.

The last few weeks at work, and I am sure the weeks to come, have been really hard.  I can’t seem to muster much energy into a job that a) I don’t have any future interest in anymore, b) just seems to get in the way of all the things I need to accomplish, and c) is really slow right now, which means really boring. But these last few days, as I am in a bit of a funk driving to work, I pass patches of these lovely flowers, and it just brightens my day a bit.  Maybe it’s the fulfilled hope of what has been lying dormant for so long. Maybe it’s the promise of of fruitful times ahead. Maybe it’s the contrast of the world in a hurry after empty pursuits racing by these peaceful blooms that in their simple existence can’t help but bring glory to to the Creator.

Missing You

This is a picture of all the American goodies that people in Scotland requested I bring back from the states.  (If you are wondering, the corn syrup was for me…)  As I was unpacking all these things from my overweight baggage, it got me thinking on the act of missing things.

Unexpectedly, I don’t miss many things from America.  I don’t crave any specific items that cause me to be homesick and I have thoroughly enjoyed discovering new things.  (Although, I have had some difficulty in the baking department trying to find replacement for specific ingredients, thus, the corn syrup.)

People, of course, are a different story.  You definitely can’t find replacements for those people that have shaped you for the first quarter of your life.  Happily, technology allows us to stay in close connect. And fortunately, God has provided me with a wonderful family over here.

Yet, what is it that we really feel the absence of when we miss people and things?  Love, comfort, joy, fun, familiarity, security… These earthly longings are a pale comparison to what humanity is missing as a whole.  We miss being in the presence of our Creator.  Underneath it all we long for these things in our present home, because we are lacking the complete fulfillment we will have in heaven with God. Talk about home-sickness.

Goodbye, Invitrogen

 I have been working at a biotech company called Invitrogen for three and a half years.  Today, I gave my notice that April 13th will be my last day. Why, you might ask, would a person who had spent the last 10 years pursuing a career in chemistry/biochemistry (since 8th grade), working at a company where she had received raises, promotions, accolades, and awesome placements in foreign countries, decide to quit. The answer, God has a different purpose for me and I am going to answer His call. 

If you know me or read my first blog you know that my company in Madison, WI sent me to work in Glasgow, Scotland for a year.  Well, during that year I got involved in Regarding Hope Next Generation Church (Re:Hope, www.rehope.co.uk). Over the next few months God impressed on my heart His plan for me to dedicate my life to Him by leaving my job at the biotech company and becoming a missionary by going on staff for the church. 

So that is what I am doing this April when my commitment to the Scotland site ends and I would have been going back to Madison.The plan was that I would call up my boss back in the states in March and give my one month notice.  This was for two reasons, first it gave me a safety net so that if I hadn’t raised enough support I could wait on quitting and go back to the states for a few months to work and finish raising support.  Second, it wouldn’t give my boss a chance to let me go early before I had any support (I don’t believe she would have done this, but it would be her right). I have been praying this last week.  “God, here’s the plan, let me know if I am supposed to be doing it another way”. 

Well, this week I have been in the states on a visit.  And I have been in at work the last three days.  I was just going to skirt around the issue while there, but God impressed on me that I should give my notice today.  That this is a journey of faith that He is taking me on and my ill-conceived safety nets can become barriers. 

So, after a lot of prayer and swallowing down the butterflies, I met with my boss this afternoon.  It was awesome.  She was incredibly happy for me that I was following my passion.  We even talked about churches and my faith for a little bit.  She wants me to finish out my commitment in Scotland through April and told me that as long as she was at the company I would have a job available to me (I don’t think that will happen, but nice to know she thinks so highly of me).

Amazing! I was saved almost two months of dread and I could tell she respected me for being straight-forward with her. May I always have to faith to allow God to direct my path.    

CLEAR!….

Yes, believe it or not, I have resuscitated my blog.  I know I made many promises last year to actually keep up on this, which I then managed to break after less than a month and only three entries, but I’m going to give it another go.  I’ll try to keep them short and sweet, instead of the epics I previously wrote, and then maybe I won’t find it such a daunting task. If you are new here, feel free to read the earlier entries, but note they were written almost 10 months ago. Also, if you were watching my Flickr site for more pictures (and noticed I also stopped keeping up on that) there are a bunch of new ones up from when my friend, Molli, came to visit.  I can take no credit for getting them up there as she did all the work, but nevertheless, it’s progress.  Be back soon….

The French make cars?

I hate to drive. I absolutely detest getting in a ton of metal and putting my life, and the lives of many other innocent people, on the line. I have even been known to go "the long way around" to avoid left turns. I have no qualms at all about riding in cars, travelling in any type of transportation, and I adore roller coasters. It is just the idea that I am in control that freaks me outWhy in the world then, when in a foreign country that has completely different driving rules, did I decide to get a car? Because my company is paying for it, of course. I really wanted to live near the center (centre) of Glasgow, but this means I would need to take 3 trains and a bus to work every day. This is totally unreasonable, so I got the car.I have been provided with a Renault Megane in bright blue, it is a hatchback with kind of an interesting trunk (boot). Unfortunately, the French have no idea how to make an automatic car, and I am in no place to learn how to drive stick and be expected to follow UK road rules. The car has all the great bells and whistles.  The key is actually like a credit card that you insert in a slot and press the "start" button and the wipers automatically adjust to your speed, but all this doesn't matter if when you go into reverse you roll forward first. I did expect a somewhat small engine, but this has absolutely no get up and go. (There will be pictures posted on Flickr very shortly)

Directly after I got off the plane, Bob, the man helping me relocate, picked me up from the airport and drove me to work. There we picked up my car, after 3 minutes of trying to find how to turn it on (I was not provided with a manual for the car) I was driving us both to my flat. None of the roads in Scotland follow the cardinal directions. There are no straight roads and there are these things called round-abouts that I am just not that keen on. I gripped the wheel with all my might and managed to make it all the way to my flat without hitting anything and only annoying a few other drivers by my "American" style of driving. He said that I did very well, but I don't know if I completely believe him. Then we drove back to work and Bob got it his car and I followed him back to my flat. Making me drive a car for an hour and a half in a foreign country directly after getting off a transcontinental flight, especially considering the details described in my previous post, is cruel and unusual punishment.  But I did it. 

Bob and his wife, Sheila, were kind enough to have stocked my kitchen with a weeks worth of food. So I had a quick meal and fell asleep at 4 in the afternoon. I slept to 6 the next morning and then had to get ready for work. Bob, in his infinite kindness, let me follow him to and from work again, so I wouldn't get lost. (Work will be covered in another post so I will just get on with the driving) But the next day I was all on my own. 

In my two days of "lessons" I haven't gotten any theory whatsoever. I don't even know what all the signs and road markings mean. Needless to say I was completely freaked out of my wits. So I said a prayer once I got in the car and I started out. Somehow I managed to get on the motorway with no problem and I started to get more comfortable. However, there are two exits marked for Paisley (the city my work is in) and I am supposed to take the second.  I guess I got so comfortable that I wasn't paying enough attention and I thought the second exit was the first, missed it, and started heading for the countryside. I have no map and no phone and no clue where I am going. My stress level rises (only to a 7) but I am able to keep myself together and find the signs for Glasgow, which I hope and pray will take me back to the area of my flat so that I can find my way back to work. Only by the grace of God I manage to pull it off and the motorway I take eventually feeds back to the Clyde Tunnel and the M8, which take me back to work.  Amazingly enough, by the time I get to work (40 minutes later than planned) my confidence in driving has grown 10-fold.  I had no idea this is how God would answer my prayers when I got in the car that morning, but the Lord does work in mysterious ways.

So far I have primarily driven from home to work and back, but I did make one foray into the busy City Centre (at least this time I had a map). I am happy to report that I have not hit anything and probably only piss off 2-4 other drivers a day. Luckily, most everything I need on a daily basis is in walking distance, so I should do fine. Eventually, if I stay for more than 12 months, I will need to get a UK license. Which means taking an extremely hard driver's test that most people fail the first time (natives included). Right now I am on a library computer and am eyeing up the "Driving Test Success" CD-ROMs. I think I will start with "Road Signs".

The Scottish Vocabulary Word of the Post:  daft = stupid, incapable

What the heck does Aer Lingus mean anyway?

Ok, so that wasn’t the most efficient trip that I have ever taken. My original flight was supposed to take off on Sunday afternoon. Of course, there were thunderstorms in Chicago, so I was already pessimistic when my mom and Molli dropped me off at the airport.  I was informed upon check-in that my flight was delayed from 3:51 to 5:10 (arriving at 6:05 or so), but I should still make in time for my 7:00 flight to Dublin (this actually was not accurate, because you have to leave Terminal 3 and take a tram to Terminal 5 and then go back through security at the International gates and I don’t believe this could be accomplished in less than the 35 minutes I would have to get there).This is probably a good time to mention that I am not thrilled with my companies travel agent. The general process I have used is that you search for a flight online and then you contact the travel agency with your desired flight. They are then supposed to approve it or come back with cheaper alternatives or possible problems. This worked very well on my first flight to the UK. Unfortunately, this time it was a one-way ticket and there were fewer options. The flight I picked was a United Airlines to Chicago and then Aer Lingus to Dublin and onto Glasgow. When I notified the travel agent of this flight they said because of their agreement with United they would have to separate the flights, meaning if I checked baggage I would have to pick it up in baggage claim in Chicago and re-check for my Aer Lingus flight. I then asked if there were other options for flights, and she said not really. So I took it, but ended up shipping everything so I only had carry-on items. She did not inform me of the consequences if my flight to Chicago was delayed or cancelled. Bringing us back to Sunday…My flight was delayed until 7:00 by this time (and I later found out, actually cancelled). So when the lady at the United counter was trying to switch my tickets, she noticed she didn’t have the ability to switch my Aer Lingus tickets to a different airline. Traveling by plane already puts me at stress level 3 (slightly more stressed than the usual) on a scale on 10, not that I am scared of the actual flight, but just that crap like this will happen. So, now I am at a stress level 5 (high level of concern). She lets me use the desk phone to call the 24 hour emergency line for my travel agent. I am put on hold. Slowly, my stress level rises. By the time someone answers, 10 minutes later, I am up to stress level 7 (so concerned I am making pained faces). The man on the line informs me that because of the way I booked my tickets Aer Lingus is not responsible for when I make it to the Chicago airport and my ticket is non-refundable. So I have to change it to the next available time for a $100 fee (it ended up being $350 total, good thing my company is paying). In addition, Aer Lingus only flies from Chicago to Dublin once a day, so I would have to wait until the next day to fly. I say OK, as I have no other option, and he re-books my flight for Monday. Stress level 8. I surprisingly calmly wait in line to talk to the United airline desk lady again. I am able to switch my United flight to an American flight on the next day leaving at 2:24 pm, giving me hopefully more than enough time to catch my 7:00 pm flight. I ask to use the phone again, since because I was moving I sold my car, discontinued my cell, and only have $1.75 in American cash. I take out my list of phone numbers and start calling anyone possible that might be able to pick me up. After four calls, I finally reach Erin. She unfortunately is at work (she’s at EMT) and can’t leave. At this point I reach the magical stress level 9 (tears) and start crying at the gate, right in front of all the other delayed people. She kindly offers to call up a few of her friends that might be able to help, but I decline, as I realize at this point I should call my manager. So I call up Tammy, in tears, and try to explain the situation in something that resembles English. She offered to pick me up and stay the night at her house, which was wonderful of her, but felt horrible trespassing on her time and family on Easter. So I decided to just take a cab back to my apartment where I could use the hidden key to get back in and wait for my now supposedly “ex-roommates” to get home.So I leave the airport and catch a cab, after making sure I can pay with a credit card (as you will note the $1.75 was all the cash I had). And start on my way back to my apartment. My stress level did not go down while in the cab and I continued to cry. Fortunately, I never did reach level 10 which I am sure entails some kind of nervous break-down and fainting. The poor cabbie probably thought my dog died. Anyways, I get back the apartment, and once in familiar settings my stress level finally starts dropping. My roommates get home eventually and we go out to eat (as, of course, I have no food). The next day (Monday) I just end up going back to work in the morning, shocking a couple co-workers by my unexplained presence. I make myself busy until Tammy can take me to the airport at 12:30, and then have to re-say my goodbyes, which is just way too anti-climatic. At least, Monday is a bright sunny day in Madison and Chicago.I got to Chicago no problem. I had over a 3 hour lay-over, but it went pretty fast. I only got a little freaked out when they started calling people up to the boarding area and telling them to go back to the check-in desk. Fortunately, I got on the plane. Unfortunately, they had to check my carry-on luggage, but they couldn’t check it all the way to Glasgow. No, with my 60 minute lay-over in Dublin, I would have to wait in baggage claim for it. This of course made me more nervous. The over-seas flight was fine, I got a little sleep. But it landed 15 minutes later than expected. Now I have 45 minutes (only 20 minutes until boarding) to find my next plane. First I run through four corridors, and then I have to go through passport checks. The girl two ahead of me takes 5 minutes, but it seems like forever. After I get through there I go to wait for my luggage. This of course takes forever and by the time I get my bags I am back up to a stress level 7 and I am 5 minutes late for boarding (only 20 minutes until the plane is supposed to take off). Again I run, I already have a boarding pass so I try to follow the correct signs but I am fighting against the flow the entire way.  This makes me feel that I am going in the wrong direction, but eventually I get to the gates, and… another security check-point (I should have known). I quickly strip off my shoes and throw everything in the tubs. However, I think the security lady sees the stress on my face and decides to stop me for a pat-down.  Great, stress level 8.  I then tell her that I am late for my flight, which probably wasn’t a good idea, and then she starts questioning me for why I wasn’t there earlier, then I have to tell her the whole story. She does let me through and I start loading myself back up with stuff in a panicked manner. I check my gate and with my shoes not even quite on my feet, I start running for it. Fortunately, I never reach stress level 9, as it was funny enough to see the practically bare-footed American running through the Dublin airport, tears would have made it so much worse. By the time I reach the gate I am 20 minutes late for boarding and the flight is supposed to take off in 5 minutes. At least, the Aer Lingus people knew that my earlier flight was running late and they were waiting for me. I get on the plane and have a very uneventful flight to Glasgow. Bob (the guy helping me relocate) was waiting for me and he took me to pick up my car (oh boy!)  That will have to wait for the next blog.

The Scottish Vocabulary Words of the Post:  knackered = tired 

Note: I won’t have internet at my flat for a couple weeks, so bear with me as these first few blogs will be a little slow in coming.