Dear All,
My problem is that my weekend was too wonderful. It makes the pressures of school and all that that implies crash down all the harder as the workweek commences.
You see, I stole away on an English adventure with a great guy to befriend and a beautiful sister to visit at the end of the line. Adriaan (Holland) and I walked down to the coach station on Friday afternoon just after the rain poured down in torrents moments before to embark on a journey across the country to visit our friend Sarah who just finished at Redcliffe at the end of last term. We waited for a bus that didn't seem to be coming in a place that we weren't sure it would come to In the end, our bus pulled into London 45 minutes late and we missed our train out of London but it was a beautiful journey in that once we started talking we lost track of the time and just revelled in the adventure of the moment And I learned Dutch-- well, one or two words anyway We tackled the London underground system-- Adriaan having never been in London and I having only been a few times and in no way a seasoned Londoner but it was all part of the grand adventure and we were both too easy-going about whatever happened to care. I even talked him into wandering around the city with me all night if we got stranded because I've always thought it would be a beautiful way to spend a night of my life-- wandering around London : ) We ended up hopping on an entirely different train than our tickets allowed (we had a plan, you see. If the conductor came around to check-- as he usually does-- Adriaan would slip into Dutch and I would just look as foreign as possible and be confused) and arriving in Colchester-- Sarah's city in Essex-- an hour later than planned. Sarah whisked us away to her family's home in the tiny village of Layer-de-la-Haye in the charming Essex countryside and we played games and talked and laughed and had such a cozy time of a first evening. I slept in Sarah's room and it was just like a sleepover only I was reveling in wonderment at the fact that I was having a sleepover with a lovely British lady in England
Saturday was enchanted-- I'm convinced of it. After meandering about the city of Colchester (with poppies in our buttonholes for Rememberance Day weekend to honor the veterans) and snooping about Colchester Castle, we took a bus out into the countryside to a village called Dedham and stepped off into a pastoral scene painted by John Constable in the 18th century... The famous English painter is reknown for using the area in his paintings and frequenting the little village. Dedham was the definition of quiant and English and I was on cloud-nine. We lunched in "The Essex Rose" tea room, sauntered through the age-old village church to watch the afternoon light stream in through the stained-glass windows, described our perfect cottages to one another as we walked past the ones lining each street, frolicked in a bright red British phone box, dragged Adriaan through a decidedly girly artsy shop, climbed the formidable monument at the centre of the village, and (highlight of highlights) gallavanted about the Essex countryside, which entailed a magical visit to a pond of wild trumpeteer swans and a picturesque meander along the River Stour into the county of Suffolk and back again... It was utterly perfect.
That night we cooked together, all three. I had no idea cooking was so much fun. Or that three 'mates', as British Sarah called the three of us (American, Dutch, English, 19, 18, 32) could be so perfectly content just existing together. And the range of conversation! I think it stimulated something in my brain that had been sleeping for the last while... That night Sarah went to bed early so Adriaan and I watched a corny American movie (I'm the first American friend he's had so he had to have that experience of watching an American movie with an American girl ) and then stayed up talking until 2. He's a very tall boy and has a very deep deep voice, but soothing, and I think sometimes I ask him deep questions just to hear his long, involved reply Adriaan says I have "an American face"-- whatever that is. Do I? I always thought I had the Pearson look. Apparently I have the American look as well I think classifying ourselves the way we do is hilariously ridiculous. But it is a fun thing to be told beings that I'm here and I'm American. Hehe
Sunday was precious. Bittersweet because the weekend was suddenly here and then gone again. We went to church with Sarah-- Prettygate Baptist. Prettygate. Mmmm....-- where after the service they come around to the congregation serving tea and biscuits (little cookies) to us right in our seats We hurried home to prepare for a couple of Sarah's friends to join us for lunch. The couple had two little girls, a precocious, ginger-haired 4 year old named Lucy and a 4 month old named Freya. They were an uncharacteristically friendly couple and down-to-earth good fun. After Spaghetti Bolognaise we embarked on a walk (England has public walking trails spilled out all over the country-- through fields and meadows and forests and towns and really anywhere you go, there's a walking path for you), Sarah, Adriaan, Lucy, this couple, the baby in a pram and I. We strolled the English countryside, past stables and through fields, up hills and down. We got that baby pram over stiles and through thickets, I tell you Lucy warmed up to me and took my hand and we raced Adriaan (who's height, we're convinced, intimidated her because he's completely non-threatening in every other way) until she was "out of puff", as she so colloquially phrased it. The afternoon had the same scent of enchantment as the day before had and I found myself very much in love with it all...
Leaving was hard because the whole weekend was such a spontaneous bit of strangeness and delight. It hadn't seemed real, somehow. Like a warm and cozy dream. That's what Essex will be to me now-- a-cuddled-up-with-a-steaming-cup-of-cocoa-before-a-roaring-fire-after-a-long-fresh-walk kind of dreamworld, suspended in time.
The journey back was just as wonderful, lost in hours of stimulating conversation and laughter, and with about an hour's stop to meander about the cold streets of London at night for Adriaan's first time. We arrived in Gloucester after the city had gone to sleep and wandered up the few blocks to college with hearts full after a blissful weekend spent wallowing in the generosity of a precious friend.
So, trading the weight of my backpack for the weight of my schoolwork needing doing is proving to be a trying transition. I'm desperate for discipline but so frustrated when I am working at it. Tonight called for a chilly nighttime chat with my Strong Tower out under Redcliffe tree (where I'm quite certain I laughed and cried in turn and He wiped the tears and clapped my back respectively) and the entire time He delighted my heart with the chrystalline sound of cathedral bells tolling seasonal sounds through the brisk, English night air. When I got back in, after feeling I'd gathered myself around myself enough to really sit down and get some work done without tripping over all the stuff on my heart, Paul knocked on my door (which is rather strange because he's never done that before) to let me know we were getting together in the common room for chocolate and coffee Then Leticia came bounding in, immediately wanted to know what it was that was wrong (is something showing in my face??) and then proceeded to try to melt my worries away with an inpromptu Samba session in her candles-lit, windows-open, Brazillian music-boasting bedroom When I went down to the common room I told myself I would only stay for a few moments and then it was straight up to do some real work for this flagging student. But then Isabela (love this lady) started sharing and God has done some awesome things in her life and I was held transfixed. In the end, out of the twenty-some people who started in that room, Isabela and I were the last ones to leave. So... needless to say, I haven't gotten very far on that work...
But my King is moving, ever-moving, in my heart. And He is beautiful, so beautiful. And so I shall not be overcome by anything but sheer wonder and delight at all that He is to me tonight and all that He's done and all that He has yet to do. Just look at Me, Lovely. Just keep holding My eyes. I know. I know it all. And I'm carrying you...
So I rest...
Leah <><
p.s. Did I mention I adore inpromptu worship sessions with acoustic guitars and guys who can play any song put in front of them?
p.p.s. I should add the disclaimer that if this email is a tad bit too whimsical for your comfort, I've been exhausted for days and this was written way past my 'bed time" : )
**Visit www.xanga.com/OtobeinEngland for pictures of my wonderful Essex weekend!!!
Wednesday, 16 November 2005
Thursday, 10 November 2005
Showers of Blessings (and Fireworks!)
Dear All,
I can't believe I live here. Hehe. You'd think after, what, 9 weeks (?) that I would be used to the idea. But no : ) Continual blessings showering down.
The past two weeks, about, have been interesting ones. It was the turning over from one term to the next with all that that entails-- new classes, new pressures. I've been forced to really dig into study and research for my three major essays coming due. I find the system of study in this country involves so much more self-discipline (NOT a fabulous system for the procrastinators among us... ahem...) because we aren't given so many assignments to be doing and handing in all along. Rather, the assessed work is given one deadline at the end of the course and you're meant to be working on it all along... My private research this term ( with essays due Mid-December) involves a biblical critique of the doctrine of Mary in Roman Catholicism, the missionary methods of an influential individual in church history of which I've chosen St. Patrick in keeping with my exploration of God's laying Ireland on my heart, and the providence of God-- answering the question biblically of whether or not God really does have "a wonderful plan" for every life... It all feels heavy, but it will be so good for me to think through these things and develop a firm grasp on what I think about them according to God's word. The more intense burdens on the academic side of things are my 10 minute public speech that I have yet to decide on, and my leading (from scratch) of a bible study group on Philippians 4. In my nature, these two things seem far too much. I would be crushed under the weight of them if left on my own. Absolutely terrified. But here's where I've got to trust that God knows precisely what He's doing... I covet your prayers for those two things though because I really can be so paralyzed by fear and a feeling that I have nothing to say that hasn't been said before or couldn't be said by someone better. This is an area of my own nature that God is gently but firmly coaxing me to confront and it's... uncomfortable and mortifying. But He's bigger than all my fears...
On the community and friendship side of things, it was an up-and-down weekend! Being the end of the term, some of the short term students (called "Striders" here) finished up their course of study and struck out from Redcliffe to prepare for their respective missionfields. One of these leavers this past weekend was my dear dear darling friend Sarah who's been a part of my "prayer triplet" these past 2 months and whom I've grown closer to so far than, I think, anyone else here. But God has been so good to me, and held me so close and povided so well. The very day she left instead of leaving me to despair, He immediately worked to make some other friendships flourish in my life : ) It was a weekend of celebrations in Great Britain over a holiday known simply as "The Fifth of November"-- set aside each year to celebrate the fact that a man named Guy Folkes did NOT succeed in blowing up the royal family in 1605. It is traditionally celebrated with huge fireworks displays and massive bonfires. On Friday night we here at Redcliffe kicked it off with a bit of sparklers in the garden as a sort of Happy Leaving to Sarah and Emmanuel (another Strider) who were leaving the next day. The whole weekend is well-documented in pictures on my pictures page so do go see!: www.xanga.com/OtobeinEngland). Later on that night, about 30 of us gathered together in the student common room to send Sarah and Manny off (Sarah to Peru, and Manny to Northern Africa) properly. It was such a blessing to find myself a part of this. We squeezed in arm to arm in a circle, people on the floor, couches, and beanbags, and took the Lord's Supper. Overwhelmingly beautiful. So informal and yet reverent, so much love for one another in Christ gathered in that little room. Redcliffe is such a special place. And I am so incredibly blessed.
Saturday night a group of about 10 of us walked down to the football field-- about 45 minutes walk-- to see the Gloucester City fireworks for The Fifth of November! It was like a strange twist on Independence Day, I have to say : ) They set the display to music and we oohed and awwed and laughed and talked and walked and enjoyed ourselves as a smaller group-- I love getting away into smaller groups. Friendships are always fused. This night it was a deepened friendship with a girl from Northern Ireland named Jenny. She is a star. A beautiful gem. I thought there might be something special about this girl that I could really relate to from the get go but then true, deep connection just didn't happen. But I think it is just like my Heavenly Love to beckon a heart-friend to step in the day He calls a heart-friend away : ) And now Jenny has also joined Leticia and I in our prayer partnership-- filling in the gap that Sarah left in our "triplet" in her own unique Jenny-way, and I am so blessed.
Can I just say, we have developed the best and most ridiculous form of the cardgame Uno here at this school? They call it the Dave and Adriaan Special Edition because they have simply made up the rules as we go and new rules are added by these two guys all the time and it is great fun. I'm determined to transplant it into American circles when I'm back this summer : ) Who knew Uno could be this much fun?
Sunday was brilliant. Still needing some relational security after being shaken by losing someone who I really was secure with, God brought me to a church called Kendal Road Baptist which I, for the first time, felt could really be my church home. I think I may still check out one other just to be fair but this felt so right. And almost immediately upon walking in and sitting down I was invited to lunch at the house of a dear older couple who have travelled the world and are happy to share in their experiences. The church was having this thing called "Hospitality Sunday" where everyone invites everyone over for lunch who maybe don't have families to eat with or whatever. I went with the two Dutch guys from school, Henk and Adriaan, and then another guy from Kendal Road. Jim and Joy's house was absolutely perfectly British, the decorating classy and a bit regal-- just as you'd imagine a proper British home should be : ) And the food was magnificent. I need to learn to cook : ) But even more special was their generosity of spirit. They gave us their whole day and kept me there just talking over cups of tea until 5 o'clock! I am inspired by the generosity and hospitality of so many of the people who have welcomed me into their homes here. I am convicted by how little we in America seem to look outside of ourselves to open up our doors and hearts like so many have done to me here-- even if it just means a meal and a talk. I am determined to be more giving upon returning, even if it means simply more giving of my time...
Sunday night we as a college were invited over to Redcliffe House, which is a grand, large old house across the street where most of the students with families are living for an evening of fireworks and more sparklers to celebrate the Fifth as a community! It was such a beautiful thing to just come together like that outside of school and ordinary purposes. Plus, I got to spoonfeed Grace her dinner and cuddlecuddlecuddle that chubby little baby and that in itself is precious enough : ) I am so touched by the kindness and concern we as a student body have for one another. I love these people. And I am so blessed...
This weekend (Tomorrow! Yay!) Adriaan (Holland) and I are taking off to go see Sarah who is at home in Essex (an English county just above London) until she heads off for Peru. I am so excited!! We decided it was time for just a bit of adventure and both of us, being foreigners here, want to see as much of the UK as possible and decided a few weeks ago that we would become travel partners and embark on adventures whenever we could find a place to stay : ) So, expect me to regale you with tales of our expedition to Essex in time!
Incase I haven't emphasized it enough, I am so uncommonly blessed here. My King is far far too good to me and shows His precious Love in so many ways every day-- whether it be a shy gift out of the blue from a sweet Dutch friend (The Dutch are everywhere in this school :-)), people just popping in to my room to say hello, a quiet afternoon spent out of the college in the sunny chill, Impromptu worship sessions day or night, awesome, awesome prayer times, a rollicking random game of Uno or even just a heartfelt hug now and again. He is beautiful and present His blessings are bigger than the burdens...
Cling to Him : )
Leah <><
p.s. www.xanga.com/OtobeinEngland for pictures!
I can't believe I live here. Hehe. You'd think after, what, 9 weeks (?) that I would be used to the idea. But no : ) Continual blessings showering down.
The past two weeks, about, have been interesting ones. It was the turning over from one term to the next with all that that entails-- new classes, new pressures. I've been forced to really dig into study and research for my three major essays coming due. I find the system of study in this country involves so much more self-discipline (NOT a fabulous system for the procrastinators among us... ahem...) because we aren't given so many assignments to be doing and handing in all along. Rather, the assessed work is given one deadline at the end of the course and you're meant to be working on it all along... My private research this term ( with essays due Mid-December) involves a biblical critique of the doctrine of Mary in Roman Catholicism, the missionary methods of an influential individual in church history of which I've chosen St. Patrick in keeping with my exploration of God's laying Ireland on my heart, and the providence of God-- answering the question biblically of whether or not God really does have "a wonderful plan" for every life... It all feels heavy, but it will be so good for me to think through these things and develop a firm grasp on what I think about them according to God's word. The more intense burdens on the academic side of things are my 10 minute public speech that I have yet to decide on, and my leading (from scratch) of a bible study group on Philippians 4. In my nature, these two things seem far too much. I would be crushed under the weight of them if left on my own. Absolutely terrified. But here's where I've got to trust that God knows precisely what He's doing... I covet your prayers for those two things though because I really can be so paralyzed by fear and a feeling that I have nothing to say that hasn't been said before or couldn't be said by someone better. This is an area of my own nature that God is gently but firmly coaxing me to confront and it's... uncomfortable and mortifying. But He's bigger than all my fears...
On the community and friendship side of things, it was an up-and-down weekend! Being the end of the term, some of the short term students (called "Striders" here) finished up their course of study and struck out from Redcliffe to prepare for their respective missionfields. One of these leavers this past weekend was my dear dear darling friend Sarah who's been a part of my "prayer triplet" these past 2 months and whom I've grown closer to so far than, I think, anyone else here. But God has been so good to me, and held me so close and povided so well. The very day she left instead of leaving me to despair, He immediately worked to make some other friendships flourish in my life : ) It was a weekend of celebrations in Great Britain over a holiday known simply as "The Fifth of November"-- set aside each year to celebrate the fact that a man named Guy Folkes did NOT succeed in blowing up the royal family in 1605. It is traditionally celebrated with huge fireworks displays and massive bonfires. On Friday night we here at Redcliffe kicked it off with a bit of sparklers in the garden as a sort of Happy Leaving to Sarah and Emmanuel (another Strider) who were leaving the next day. The whole weekend is well-documented in pictures on my pictures page so do go see!: www.xanga.com/OtobeinEngland). Later on that night, about 30 of us gathered together in the student common room to send Sarah and Manny off (Sarah to Peru, and Manny to Northern Africa) properly. It was such a blessing to find myself a part of this. We squeezed in arm to arm in a circle, people on the floor, couches, and beanbags, and took the Lord's Supper. Overwhelmingly beautiful. So informal and yet reverent, so much love for one another in Christ gathered in that little room. Redcliffe is such a special place. And I am so incredibly blessed.
Saturday night a group of about 10 of us walked down to the football field-- about 45 minutes walk-- to see the Gloucester City fireworks for The Fifth of November! It was like a strange twist on Independence Day, I have to say : ) They set the display to music and we oohed and awwed and laughed and talked and walked and enjoyed ourselves as a smaller group-- I love getting away into smaller groups. Friendships are always fused. This night it was a deepened friendship with a girl from Northern Ireland named Jenny. She is a star. A beautiful gem. I thought there might be something special about this girl that I could really relate to from the get go but then true, deep connection just didn't happen. But I think it is just like my Heavenly Love to beckon a heart-friend to step in the day He calls a heart-friend away : ) And now Jenny has also joined Leticia and I in our prayer partnership-- filling in the gap that Sarah left in our "triplet" in her own unique Jenny-way, and I am so blessed.
Can I just say, we have developed the best and most ridiculous form of the cardgame Uno here at this school? They call it the Dave and Adriaan Special Edition because they have simply made up the rules as we go and new rules are added by these two guys all the time and it is great fun. I'm determined to transplant it into American circles when I'm back this summer : ) Who knew Uno could be this much fun?
Sunday was brilliant. Still needing some relational security after being shaken by losing someone who I really was secure with, God brought me to a church called Kendal Road Baptist which I, for the first time, felt could really be my church home. I think I may still check out one other just to be fair but this felt so right. And almost immediately upon walking in and sitting down I was invited to lunch at the house of a dear older couple who have travelled the world and are happy to share in their experiences. The church was having this thing called "Hospitality Sunday" where everyone invites everyone over for lunch who maybe don't have families to eat with or whatever. I went with the two Dutch guys from school, Henk and Adriaan, and then another guy from Kendal Road. Jim and Joy's house was absolutely perfectly British, the decorating classy and a bit regal-- just as you'd imagine a proper British home should be : ) And the food was magnificent. I need to learn to cook : ) But even more special was their generosity of spirit. They gave us their whole day and kept me there just talking over cups of tea until 5 o'clock! I am inspired by the generosity and hospitality of so many of the people who have welcomed me into their homes here. I am convicted by how little we in America seem to look outside of ourselves to open up our doors and hearts like so many have done to me here-- even if it just means a meal and a talk. I am determined to be more giving upon returning, even if it means simply more giving of my time...
Sunday night we as a college were invited over to Redcliffe House, which is a grand, large old house across the street where most of the students with families are living for an evening of fireworks and more sparklers to celebrate the Fifth as a community! It was such a beautiful thing to just come together like that outside of school and ordinary purposes. Plus, I got to spoonfeed Grace her dinner and cuddlecuddlecuddle that chubby little baby and that in itself is precious enough : ) I am so touched by the kindness and concern we as a student body have for one another. I love these people. And I am so blessed...
This weekend (Tomorrow! Yay!) Adriaan (Holland) and I are taking off to go see Sarah who is at home in Essex (an English county just above London) until she heads off for Peru. I am so excited!! We decided it was time for just a bit of adventure and both of us, being foreigners here, want to see as much of the UK as possible and decided a few weeks ago that we would become travel partners and embark on adventures whenever we could find a place to stay : ) So, expect me to regale you with tales of our expedition to Essex in time!
Incase I haven't emphasized it enough, I am so uncommonly blessed here. My King is far far too good to me and shows His precious Love in so many ways every day-- whether it be a shy gift out of the blue from a sweet Dutch friend (The Dutch are everywhere in this school :-)), people just popping in to my room to say hello, a quiet afternoon spent out of the college in the sunny chill, Impromptu worship sessions day or night, awesome, awesome prayer times, a rollicking random game of Uno or even just a heartfelt hug now and again. He is beautiful and present His blessings are bigger than the burdens...
Cling to Him : )
Leah <><
p.s. www.xanga.com/OtobeinEngland for pictures!
Saturday, 5 November 2005
An Overdue Overview (of Midterm Break in Hastings)
Dear All,
I owe you an email about Mid-term break in Hastings!! I came back nearly a week ago already but hit the ground running with the last week of the term and all that came with it.
Hastings was such a blessing. Just to go away for a week into a state of relaxation-- not to worry about assignments hanging over my head or research to be done on papers coming due or even schedules. It's not that we sat around all week. We did all kinds of things. But we did it on our own time, when we felt like it, rather than at the beckoning of a regimented schedule : )
I stayed with Marge and her parents in their century-old, hilltop house and was welcomed in with only a slight amount of the traditional British reserve. Marge's father was really precious. Very soft-spoken and kind but endowed with a fantastically brilliant sense of humor that twinkled out through his eyes even when he wasn't employing it. Her mom was gracious hospitality itself and must have baked a spectacular English dish every night just to introduce me to true, traditional, English family life. She was especially keen on "puddings"-- which is a general term for desserts of all kinds here and made things like, "Queen of Puddings", "Strawberry Povlova", and "Apple crumble with Custard"-- Doesn't that all sound just terribly English??
Hastings won my heart from the first sight stepping out of the train station to see the ancient ruins of the Hastings Castle of 1067 crumbling majestically on the highest hill overlooking the town-- In American terms, Hastings is very much a "city" rather than a "town", with over 60,000 people and well-spread out. But in England what constitutes a city is a cathedral and Hastings, though it has many beautiful, ancient churches, doesn't have a cathedral... It's built right on the seashore and the original village which was started sometime before 1066 is nestled cozily between two cliff-like hills. The modern-day town has stretched out and been built up all over hill, cliff, nook and cranny. There is an Old Town and then the more modern day part of Hastings. I was captivated, of course, by the Old Town, the bit between the two hills and right up next to the sea (English Channel).
We walked down to the town numerous times a day, sometimes, and then back up again-- to a height of 400 feet above sea level in about a mile's walk. I suppose that's how we earned our "puddin'" each night : ) In the Old Town we'd nip into quiant little shops-- art galleries, antique shoppes, chic home furnishing stores, old-fashioned seaside candy shoppes, fish markets, clothing stores, and on and on the list goes. We visited museums, took a vernicular lift to the top of East Hill overlooking the city, spent Saturday night at a music festival on the victorian pier with a friend from college who came down from London to see us, had a games night with a bunch of Marge's lovely friends from her gorgeously welcoming church, had lunch in a picturesque country pub built in 1532-- dried hop-blossoms hanging from the low beamed ceiling-- with Marge's family and neighbors, ate ice cream cones on the sea shore, explored the fishermen's net huts which are hundreds of years old and still in use and built on the shore in a style unique to Hastings only, went to "chippies" (itty bitty restaurants scattered liberally all across the country where you can get fish and chips-- big, fat french fries, basically-- wrapped up in newspaper-like packages. So very English : )), and as a "family" went to the cinema to see the new "Wallace & Gromit" film because the British love their Wallace and Gromit... We didn't get across the Channel into France, I'm afraid, but I did have my first traditional English cream tea experience and it was lovely-- in a tiny 17th century tea shoppe served with dainty, pink flower-bedecked china and Cornwall clotted cream.
It was such a blessing to be invited into a family and treated like a daughter-- even though it did tend to make me a bit homesick for the first time since I've been here...
Now I'm back to the daily grind and Monday starts a brand new term so many classes are turning over. I'm thick in the midst of a job hunt-- so far what I thought would be the best place to enquire have been dead ends and I'm wondering what exactly my God is up to in that area : ) I've just today sent away a woman who has become in two short months my very dearest friend here at college as she was only here for a short course and finished up her term. I hardly know what I'll do without her but it would seem that God is intensifying other friendships for me all throughout the school to perhaps fill the relationship gap made with Sarah's leaving... So, I am blessed and well provided for by the Greatest of Providers.
His hand is so evident in just everything...
More to come soon! Blessings on you!
Leah <><
p.s. Pictures of Hastings to be found at www.xanga.com/OtobeinEngland
I owe you an email about Mid-term break in Hastings!! I came back nearly a week ago already but hit the ground running with the last week of the term and all that came with it.
Hastings was such a blessing. Just to go away for a week into a state of relaxation-- not to worry about assignments hanging over my head or research to be done on papers coming due or even schedules. It's not that we sat around all week. We did all kinds of things. But we did it on our own time, when we felt like it, rather than at the beckoning of a regimented schedule : )
I stayed with Marge and her parents in their century-old, hilltop house and was welcomed in with only a slight amount of the traditional British reserve. Marge's father was really precious. Very soft-spoken and kind but endowed with a fantastically brilliant sense of humor that twinkled out through his eyes even when he wasn't employing it. Her mom was gracious hospitality itself and must have baked a spectacular English dish every night just to introduce me to true, traditional, English family life. She was especially keen on "puddings"-- which is a general term for desserts of all kinds here and made things like, "Queen of Puddings", "Strawberry Povlova", and "Apple crumble with Custard"-- Doesn't that all sound just terribly English??
Hastings won my heart from the first sight stepping out of the train station to see the ancient ruins of the Hastings Castle of 1067 crumbling majestically on the highest hill overlooking the town-- In American terms, Hastings is very much a "city" rather than a "town", with over 60,000 people and well-spread out. But in England what constitutes a city is a cathedral and Hastings, though it has many beautiful, ancient churches, doesn't have a cathedral... It's built right on the seashore and the original village which was started sometime before 1066 is nestled cozily between two cliff-like hills. The modern-day town has stretched out and been built up all over hill, cliff, nook and cranny. There is an Old Town and then the more modern day part of Hastings. I was captivated, of course, by the Old Town, the bit between the two hills and right up next to the sea (English Channel).
We walked down to the town numerous times a day, sometimes, and then back up again-- to a height of 400 feet above sea level in about a mile's walk. I suppose that's how we earned our "puddin'" each night : ) In the Old Town we'd nip into quiant little shops-- art galleries, antique shoppes, chic home furnishing stores, old-fashioned seaside candy shoppes, fish markets, clothing stores, and on and on the list goes. We visited museums, took a vernicular lift to the top of East Hill overlooking the city, spent Saturday night at a music festival on the victorian pier with a friend from college who came down from London to see us, had a games night with a bunch of Marge's lovely friends from her gorgeously welcoming church, had lunch in a picturesque country pub built in 1532-- dried hop-blossoms hanging from the low beamed ceiling-- with Marge's family and neighbors, ate ice cream cones on the sea shore, explored the fishermen's net huts which are hundreds of years old and still in use and built on the shore in a style unique to Hastings only, went to "chippies" (itty bitty restaurants scattered liberally all across the country where you can get fish and chips-- big, fat french fries, basically-- wrapped up in newspaper-like packages. So very English : )), and as a "family" went to the cinema to see the new "Wallace & Gromit" film because the British love their Wallace and Gromit... We didn't get across the Channel into France, I'm afraid, but I did have my first traditional English cream tea experience and it was lovely-- in a tiny 17th century tea shoppe served with dainty, pink flower-bedecked china and Cornwall clotted cream.
It was such a blessing to be invited into a family and treated like a daughter-- even though it did tend to make me a bit homesick for the first time since I've been here...
Now I'm back to the daily grind and Monday starts a brand new term so many classes are turning over. I'm thick in the midst of a job hunt-- so far what I thought would be the best place to enquire have been dead ends and I'm wondering what exactly my God is up to in that area : ) I've just today sent away a woman who has become in two short months my very dearest friend here at college as she was only here for a short course and finished up her term. I hardly know what I'll do without her but it would seem that God is intensifying other friendships for me all throughout the school to perhaps fill the relationship gap made with Sarah's leaving... So, I am blessed and well provided for by the Greatest of Providers.
His hand is so evident in just everything...
More to come soon! Blessings on you!
Leah <><
p.s. Pictures of Hastings to be found at www.xanga.com/OtobeinEngland
Friday, 21 October 2005
Mid-term Break and Other Things
"Let all our employment be to know God; the more one knows Him, the more one desires to know Him."~Brother Lawrence
Dear all,
I don't have a huge amount to say this time (I think :))...
I'm learning so much it's making my head hurt-- to be very blunt and un-eloquent : ) I have my Doctrine of God class on Fridays and I feel like it's basically taking all the gray areas of the theology of my faith and blowing them up and completely out of proportion. But, it's good for me. Today I was confronted with Theistic Evolution, Divine Determinism, Synergism, and Emanationism. Don't ask me to explain them because I'm afraid it's all a bit foggy right now. Things will come into a bit sharper focus when I go to write the essay : ) Throughout the lecture, I was left with the words of Apostle Paul reverberating in my mind, "May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ..." I've come to the conclusion that I'm going to take these philosophical thoughts on-board because I'm here and I have the chance to learn, but in the end and even while learning, the true issue remains the same-- The cross of Jesus. I would ask for prayer that that main focus doesn't get lost in exploring all these "gray", philosophical areas.
I leave on mid-term break tomorrow and I'm really looking forward to it. My friend Marge has invited me home so I'll be spending the week in Hastings with her and her parents : ) Hastings is on the south-east coast of England, in Sussex, and is famous, for you history buffs out there, for the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Marge has promised me my first "Cream Tea", which is a very traditional British way of taking tea with a scone covered in cream. Apparently there is a lovely tea shop nearby that does a good cream tea : ) We also plan a long walk through a nearby holiday park where we can climb a hill that looks over the whole city and out into the sea. We hope to possibly cross the British Channel into France for an afternoon (can you imagine that?!). Besides all that, I'll be meeting alot of British people Marge has talked about for the 6 weeks I've known her, learning to cook alot of British food, and attempting to finish Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility with my free time : ) We hope to leave thoughts of schoolwork behind and spend lazy evenings watching girly British movies : ) It ought to be lovely.
He taught me again this week of how deeply I need my quiet times with Him-- times above and beyond my daily devotions to keep my heart and mind stayed on Him. I would encourage you to take the time to just get away with Him and pray and reflect. I stole away Wednesday afternoon to trip down to the cathedral (again) and I just sat there within those thick, cold walls of stone watching the rain pour down in my little courtyard outside the cloisters. Steps echoed down the cloister's corridors as people walked past me tucked into a corner with The Word and a beloved book from the 17th century ("The Practice of the Presence of God") by a French monk called Brother Lawrence-- someone who knew the atmosphere of a cloister very well. I would entreat you to steal away such precious moments to focus your everything on seeking His face, for the sake of being with Him and for no other reason but Him. It resets my perceptions ("Let us think often that our only business is to please God, and that all besides is but folly and vanity."-- Brother Lawrence) and resets my heart on "things above". Amy Carmichael once wrote, "We are what we think about," --and I can't help but agree-- "Think about trivial things or weak things and somehow one loses fibre and becomes flabby in spirit..." Like Paul wrote in Philippians 4:8, "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable-- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-- dwell on such things." Because, in the end, He's the only thing in life that matters...
Today, I love England. And I love that no matter where I go, He has me right where I ought to be.
Seek hard!
Leah <><
p.s. Picture updates at www.xanga.com/OtobeinEngland...
Dear all,
I don't have a huge amount to say this time (I think :))...
I'm learning so much it's making my head hurt-- to be very blunt and un-eloquent : ) I have my Doctrine of God class on Fridays and I feel like it's basically taking all the gray areas of the theology of my faith and blowing them up and completely out of proportion. But, it's good for me. Today I was confronted with Theistic Evolution, Divine Determinism, Synergism, and Emanationism. Don't ask me to explain them because I'm afraid it's all a bit foggy right now. Things will come into a bit sharper focus when I go to write the essay : ) Throughout the lecture, I was left with the words of Apostle Paul reverberating in my mind, "May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ..." I've come to the conclusion that I'm going to take these philosophical thoughts on-board because I'm here and I have the chance to learn, but in the end and even while learning, the true issue remains the same-- The cross of Jesus. I would ask for prayer that that main focus doesn't get lost in exploring all these "gray", philosophical areas.
I leave on mid-term break tomorrow and I'm really looking forward to it. My friend Marge has invited me home so I'll be spending the week in Hastings with her and her parents : ) Hastings is on the south-east coast of England, in Sussex, and is famous, for you history buffs out there, for the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Marge has promised me my first "Cream Tea", which is a very traditional British way of taking tea with a scone covered in cream. Apparently there is a lovely tea shop nearby that does a good cream tea : ) We also plan a long walk through a nearby holiday park where we can climb a hill that looks over the whole city and out into the sea. We hope to possibly cross the British Channel into France for an afternoon (can you imagine that?!). Besides all that, I'll be meeting alot of British people Marge has talked about for the 6 weeks I've known her, learning to cook alot of British food, and attempting to finish Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility with my free time : ) We hope to leave thoughts of schoolwork behind and spend lazy evenings watching girly British movies : ) It ought to be lovely.
He taught me again this week of how deeply I need my quiet times with Him-- times above and beyond my daily devotions to keep my heart and mind stayed on Him. I would encourage you to take the time to just get away with Him and pray and reflect. I stole away Wednesday afternoon to trip down to the cathedral (again) and I just sat there within those thick, cold walls of stone watching the rain pour down in my little courtyard outside the cloisters. Steps echoed down the cloister's corridors as people walked past me tucked into a corner with The Word and a beloved book from the 17th century ("The Practice of the Presence of God") by a French monk called Brother Lawrence-- someone who knew the atmosphere of a cloister very well. I would entreat you to steal away such precious moments to focus your everything on seeking His face, for the sake of being with Him and for no other reason but Him. It resets my perceptions ("Let us think often that our only business is to please God, and that all besides is but folly and vanity."-- Brother Lawrence) and resets my heart on "things above". Amy Carmichael once wrote, "We are what we think about," --and I can't help but agree-- "Think about trivial things or weak things and somehow one loses fibre and becomes flabby in spirit..." Like Paul wrote in Philippians 4:8, "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable-- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-- dwell on such things." Because, in the end, He's the only thing in life that matters...
Today, I love England. And I love that no matter where I go, He has me right where I ought to be.
Seek hard!
Leah <><
p.s. Picture updates at www.xanga.com/OtobeinEngland...
Monday, 10 October 2005
My Weekend
Dear All,
Do you ever feel that in the span of a few days' time so much has happened that you can never be the same? And yet, you really don't know what has happened or what you've become, you just know there's been a shift and you can never be what you once were?
Dramatic introduction to a slightly less dramatic weekend-- at least on the obvious side of things.
Friday morning was my first real day of my concurrent mission placement at the hospital down the road. I was so unsure about it; so frightfully insecure. But suddenly I found myself on my ward, walking into bays full of beds of elderly. I visited patient after patient, some more coherent than others, and felt my heart going out to them again and again. It was terrifying each time, but each time was also rewarding in its own way. One dear old lady was quite out-of-it and simply greeted me again and again, "Hello, dearie. Hello, dearie. Hello, dearie." Then she asked me where she was, "please," and she was only calm and silent when I took her hand and asked to pray with her. Beautiful, dear old lady. She then began to ask again and again and again and again, "You'll come back to visit me again, dearie, won't you? Won't you, dearie?" I did assure her that I would. I met one sweet old lady from Italy with a huge smile and a sweet way of calling me a lovely girl. But the one who really stole my heart, I have to say, is a big old man named James. He had a full white beard and a twinkle, though faded by time and circumstance, in his eye. I knelt by his bedside until my legs were fast asleep and listened to him talk of the farm he once worked on, his atheist son, the time he lost his wife and his mother all in the same week (at which point his clear blue eyes filled with quick tears), and his Saviour Jesus Christ, Whom he's known through the good and through the bad all his life. We prayed together. I held his hand. He was a blessing. I know his face will be the one I'll look for next week. He called me his Angel. I walked out of that ward with my mind buzzing, my heart full, and my hands remembering the softness of all the beautiful hands they had been holding.
I got back to school just in time for the end of coffeebreak, still overwhelmed by all that had transpired in my heart that morning, when Shemil (India) pulled me aside and asked if I would like to go to London for the weekend. London? Um, YES. Hehe. It wasn't a hard decision, even though he warned me that it was for a mission conference and wouldn't be for sight-seeing and such : ) I had to run to class until 1 which left me with about 20 minutes to pack, not actually knowing where I was going in the first place. I wouldn't learn until I was waiting with Shemil and Gloria (Pakistan-- she recently finished her Master's here at Redcliffe) at the front door what I was going to and even then it was sketchy-- they'd never been to this particular weekend either. We would learn that we were attending a Fellowship of Prayer for South Asia conference put on every year by about 60 different veterans of the missionfield in South Asia. A dear, old Gloucester couple who used to work in Sri Lanka drove us. We found ourselves at a secluded lodge situated on a hill overlooking acres and acres of rolling green English hills speckled with trees of Autumn-turning leaves. We were 3 of about 4 people under thirty years old : ) This fellowship was mostly made up of seasoned missionaries-- people who had spent their lives bringing Jesus to the lives of forgotten peoples in a part of the world I hardly knew about. I felt quite awkward. I was the only one there who had no tie to South Asia-- Shemil and Gloria come from there. But... somehow, it seems important that I had this weekend there. I was the replacement to the replacement of the lady (from India) originally planning to go. The first lady got sick, the lady taking her place got a toothache, so there I was. Not understanding clearly, but sure of His perfect timing and sovereignty.
This weekend shook me up. We had session after session on obscure South Asian country after obscure South Asian country. Now, be honest, how many of you know what exactly constitutes the term 'South Asia'? I didn't. Turns out it's places like India, Bhurma, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Bhutan, and all the 'stans' (Pakistan, Afganistan, Kajikistan, so on and so forth). There were people in off the field of each country to highlight the prayer needs of each individual country, and individual areas and missions and missionaries in each individual country, and then we would spend the rest of the session literally praying, just like that. It was incredible. I felt so... unworthy to be sitting there amongst these faithful, steadfast, experienced soldiers for Christ. I felt inadequate to pray and foolish for knowing so little. Oh, how God expanded my worldview this weekend. America is supposed to be so privelaged (and, granted, after hearing what I did about these hurting countries, we ARE very privelaged in one way) and yet I can no longer look at our blissful ignorance as any kind of privelage. The passion these dear-hearted missionaries had was so clear, so unhindered by the materialism and selfishness riddling the culture I'm familliar with like the worst kind of epidemic. It was... difficult to process. I was preoccupied with other worries and hit by the torrents of new convictions and awareness. I found myself wandering outside into the green beauty at every break just to be with God and reflect. I found a sweet little shelter in the garden and claimed it as my own. I spent alot of time drawing out the myriad of experiences in the history of the beautiful-hearted people there. I was delighted to meet Hilary Rogers, who moved to Dohnavur, India in 1955 to work as a nurse at the fellowship started by Amy Carmichael, one of my own personal heroes. Hilary worked there for 36 years. I also met two spritely old ladies who had studied at Redcliffe in the early 1950's : ) One younger family was headed out to an area of Afghanistan called Nuristan where they would have to walk for 2 days to get to the villages in the mountains they were headed for. And I thought I had hard things to face... The life experience and tried-and-true trust in God gathered in that lodge for the weekend was incredible. And the entire experience moved me and encouraged me and convicted me and stretched me and pained me and inspired me. And even now I am in awe of the circumstances of how I ended up there. I can't shake the feeling that something about it had to be terribly significant to warrant two people cancelling coincidentally in turn.
It was a lovely retreat into the English countryside as well. And I went with fellow students who were still practically strangers upon leaving but friends upon our return. After being cooped up inside all day every day throughout the weekend, Shemil and I would take long long walks at night after the stars came out slightly shrouded by the Autumn fog. It's amazing to me that the India I know from fairytales really truly exists-- only intermixed with a modern world. They have elephants alongside traffic in the streets, only these days the elephants must wear little red breaklights on their bums : ) They still must sit segregated by gender in schools. His mom still wears a Sari everyday. His father, a middle-class English professor, earns only 2 pounds a day-- the equivalent of about 4 dollars-- yet, they live in a house with 10 rooms. Marriages are still arranged by parents after a certain age and people are okay with that! Ha : ) Such a vast and intriguing and terribly different culture but fascinating. I am so blessed to be surrounded by such different experiences than I'm used to... and brothers and sisters who truly care about me, and whom I can care about, despite all differences!
Pictures of my weekend-- www.xanga.com/OtobeinEngland
May He be ever expanding your horizons in ways big and small, subtle and loud. May your heart be open to His voice...
God bless, all.
Leah <><
Do you ever feel that in the span of a few days' time so much has happened that you can never be the same? And yet, you really don't know what has happened or what you've become, you just know there's been a shift and you can never be what you once were?
Dramatic introduction to a slightly less dramatic weekend-- at least on the obvious side of things.
Friday morning was my first real day of my concurrent mission placement at the hospital down the road. I was so unsure about it; so frightfully insecure. But suddenly I found myself on my ward, walking into bays full of beds of elderly. I visited patient after patient, some more coherent than others, and felt my heart going out to them again and again. It was terrifying each time, but each time was also rewarding in its own way. One dear old lady was quite out-of-it and simply greeted me again and again, "Hello, dearie. Hello, dearie. Hello, dearie." Then she asked me where she was, "please," and she was only calm and silent when I took her hand and asked to pray with her. Beautiful, dear old lady. She then began to ask again and again and again and again, "You'll come back to visit me again, dearie, won't you? Won't you, dearie?" I did assure her that I would. I met one sweet old lady from Italy with a huge smile and a sweet way of calling me a lovely girl. But the one who really stole my heart, I have to say, is a big old man named James. He had a full white beard and a twinkle, though faded by time and circumstance, in his eye. I knelt by his bedside until my legs were fast asleep and listened to him talk of the farm he once worked on, his atheist son, the time he lost his wife and his mother all in the same week (at which point his clear blue eyes filled with quick tears), and his Saviour Jesus Christ, Whom he's known through the good and through the bad all his life. We prayed together. I held his hand. He was a blessing. I know his face will be the one I'll look for next week. He called me his Angel. I walked out of that ward with my mind buzzing, my heart full, and my hands remembering the softness of all the beautiful hands they had been holding.
I got back to school just in time for the end of coffeebreak, still overwhelmed by all that had transpired in my heart that morning, when Shemil (India) pulled me aside and asked if I would like to go to London for the weekend. London? Um, YES. Hehe. It wasn't a hard decision, even though he warned me that it was for a mission conference and wouldn't be for sight-seeing and such : ) I had to run to class until 1 which left me with about 20 minutes to pack, not actually knowing where I was going in the first place. I wouldn't learn until I was waiting with Shemil and Gloria (Pakistan-- she recently finished her Master's here at Redcliffe) at the front door what I was going to and even then it was sketchy-- they'd never been to this particular weekend either. We would learn that we were attending a Fellowship of Prayer for South Asia conference put on every year by about 60 different veterans of the missionfield in South Asia. A dear, old Gloucester couple who used to work in Sri Lanka drove us. We found ourselves at a secluded lodge situated on a hill overlooking acres and acres of rolling green English hills speckled with trees of Autumn-turning leaves. We were 3 of about 4 people under thirty years old : ) This fellowship was mostly made up of seasoned missionaries-- people who had spent their lives bringing Jesus to the lives of forgotten peoples in a part of the world I hardly knew about. I felt quite awkward. I was the only one there who had no tie to South Asia-- Shemil and Gloria come from there. But... somehow, it seems important that I had this weekend there. I was the replacement to the replacement of the lady (from India) originally planning to go. The first lady got sick, the lady taking her place got a toothache, so there I was. Not understanding clearly, but sure of His perfect timing and sovereignty.
This weekend shook me up. We had session after session on obscure South Asian country after obscure South Asian country. Now, be honest, how many of you know what exactly constitutes the term 'South Asia'? I didn't. Turns out it's places like India, Bhurma, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Bhutan, and all the 'stans' (Pakistan, Afganistan, Kajikistan, so on and so forth). There were people in off the field of each country to highlight the prayer needs of each individual country, and individual areas and missions and missionaries in each individual country, and then we would spend the rest of the session literally praying, just like that. It was incredible. I felt so... unworthy to be sitting there amongst these faithful, steadfast, experienced soldiers for Christ. I felt inadequate to pray and foolish for knowing so little. Oh, how God expanded my worldview this weekend. America is supposed to be so privelaged (and, granted, after hearing what I did about these hurting countries, we ARE very privelaged in one way) and yet I can no longer look at our blissful ignorance as any kind of privelage. The passion these dear-hearted missionaries had was so clear, so unhindered by the materialism and selfishness riddling the culture I'm familliar with like the worst kind of epidemic. It was... difficult to process. I was preoccupied with other worries and hit by the torrents of new convictions and awareness. I found myself wandering outside into the green beauty at every break just to be with God and reflect. I found a sweet little shelter in the garden and claimed it as my own. I spent alot of time drawing out the myriad of experiences in the history of the beautiful-hearted people there. I was delighted to meet Hilary Rogers, who moved to Dohnavur, India in 1955 to work as a nurse at the fellowship started by Amy Carmichael, one of my own personal heroes. Hilary worked there for 36 years. I also met two spritely old ladies who had studied at Redcliffe in the early 1950's : ) One younger family was headed out to an area of Afghanistan called Nuristan where they would have to walk for 2 days to get to the villages in the mountains they were headed for. And I thought I had hard things to face... The life experience and tried-and-true trust in God gathered in that lodge for the weekend was incredible. And the entire experience moved me and encouraged me and convicted me and stretched me and pained me and inspired me. And even now I am in awe of the circumstances of how I ended up there. I can't shake the feeling that something about it had to be terribly significant to warrant two people cancelling coincidentally in turn.
It was a lovely retreat into the English countryside as well. And I went with fellow students who were still practically strangers upon leaving but friends upon our return. After being cooped up inside all day every day throughout the weekend, Shemil and I would take long long walks at night after the stars came out slightly shrouded by the Autumn fog. It's amazing to me that the India I know from fairytales really truly exists-- only intermixed with a modern world. They have elephants alongside traffic in the streets, only these days the elephants must wear little red breaklights on their bums : ) They still must sit segregated by gender in schools. His mom still wears a Sari everyday. His father, a middle-class English professor, earns only 2 pounds a day-- the equivalent of about 4 dollars-- yet, they live in a house with 10 rooms. Marriages are still arranged by parents after a certain age and people are okay with that! Ha : ) Such a vast and intriguing and terribly different culture but fascinating. I am so blessed to be surrounded by such different experiences than I'm used to... and brothers and sisters who truly care about me, and whom I can care about, despite all differences!
Pictures of my weekend-- www.xanga.com/OtobeinEngland
May He be ever expanding your horizons in ways big and small, subtle and loud. May your heart be open to His voice...
God bless, all.
Leah <><
Friday, 7 October 2005
Dashing!
Dear all,
I'm dashing off to London this weekend!!
About two minutes before my last class Shemil asked me to join them for a free weekend in London for a mission's conference. I really don't know what I'm doing, but I'm going along : ) We leave in 20 minutes so I'd better pack! I just wanted to let you all know (especially family and friends that I'm in touch with daily) that I won't be around this weekend!
I have much to update you on when I get back...
Cheers!
Leah <><
I'm dashing off to London this weekend!!
About two minutes before my last class Shemil asked me to join them for a free weekend in London for a mission's conference. I really don't know what I'm doing, but I'm going along : ) We leave in 20 minutes so I'd better pack! I just wanted to let you all know (especially family and friends that I'm in touch with daily) that I won't be around this weekend!
I have much to update you on when I get back...
Cheers!
Leah <><
Sunday, 2 October 2005
An 'ickle bitty' to say... (Yes, 'ickle bitty' are words for Little Bit here!)
God is doing so much.
I am constantly struck by the impossibility of it all. That I'm here, in England. That this has become my life. I don't understand what He's up to but I know He's laid His hand on my life and will not lift it until I resemble His Son...
This morning I went with my friend Marge to a Church of England church called St. Catharine's. We actually went because on the day last week when all the churches in the area sent representatives to the school Marge and I spoke to a past student of Redcliffe named Skye who goes to St. Catharine's and invited Marge and I over for lunch after church today-- knowing that Redcliffe doesn't serve meals on Sunday. Skye is the coolest lady. An enigma. I love enigmas. She dresses all in black, has peircings and tattoos and dark eyeshadow, and the love of God just shining out of her beautiful smile : ) She feels called to become a vicaress in the Anglican church... Her husband is super nice, super soft-spoken, with a long, dark pony-tail and obvious tenderness for their four-year old Sophia, whom he follows about devotedly. I fell in love with their cuddly little newborn, Pheonix. Strange name, beautiful 5-week-old boy. They are living in what was once the servants' quarters of a grand old house just down the street from Redcilffe. They have two bedrooms, a kitchen and a bath and I'm sure they struggle to make ends meet just now but they still didn't hesitate to open up their home to us and fill our plates. We ate at a make-shift table in their bedroom. Such inspiring generosity... To have so little and yet share all they have...
This past Saturday Mike (England), a formidable third year student somewhere past his 50th birthday, organized a morning walk to a cafe in the city centre for a traditional "Full English Breakfast". At first I thought I couldn't be bothered to get up early on a Saturday just for breakfast : ) But they convinced me it would be a "cultural experience" (Later on in the day they got me to watch a game of Rugby on the telly for the same reason-- It would seem they can get me to do almost anything by calling it that : )). They plopped down plates as large as the seat of my chair and filled with foods of all kinds. All I could think was how much my Dad would love this Full English Breakfast tradition : ) Sausages, ham, eggs, fried toast, hash browns, baked beans, and tomatoes! ---- So, Dad, when you get here, we'll be sure to go out for the Full English : )
This weekend has been a good one for just spending time getting to know people better. We've done a movie night (Shanghai Nights-- which really played up on the whole American/English stereotypes so that was fun : )), Rugby-- which North American Football is supposed to have derived from, Full English breakfast with a couple of Englishmen and ladies and two Germans, and strolling through the city during the crazy "Harvest" celebrations. We've done "parlour games", lots of Uno with new rules added in intermidently by Dave (England) and Adriaan (Holland-- though he's taken to speaking his English with a Gloucester accent which is really quite a spectacle : )), and a worship session with Leticia (Brazil) running late into the night. I've been so blessed by new friendships (especially friendly Claire from Nothern Ireland and sweet Mavis from Zimbabwe) and the deepening of others...
I have never had the experience of being part of a prayer partnership until now-- much less a prayer "Triplet" as Leticia, Sarah, and I have taken to calling ourselves : ) We basically just decided one night to get together weekly and pray, to share struggles and be accountable to one another. I feel so... undeserving of being considered a part of this little group. These girls' hearts are so extravagantly beautiful, their faith so mature and full. Even their prayers are beautiful. Sarah is about 32, from Essex, a county in south-east England, and only here for a short course before she heads off to two years of mission-work in Peru. I felt a connection with her and was encouraged by her presence at the college from the first night on. Leticia, is about 25 (I'm guessing, though I haven't actually found out), from Brazil, and a spectacularly delightful little fireball of beauty, friendliness, exuberance, wisdom, eloquence, and love. I love her heart. She has somehow seen something in me worth pursuing, worth getting to know, worth taking time for. And I am so blessed by her presence. Last week we three got together intending to pray and ended up learning to dance the Brazillian Samba as well, amidst much uncontrollable laughter, I assure you : )
On Friday I had my first day of my concurrent mission placement. It's a position on the chaplaincy team of the local Gloucestershire Royal Hospital. I came away so utterly overwhelmed. I really don’t know clearly what I felt, only overly-so. My first day at the hospital I was paired up with a lovely older lady named Dorothy who took me around with her on her neurology ward and just let me observe her interactions with the patients—sort of ‘showing me the ropes’. I’ve come away powerfully touched. It’s as if I was feeling so much that I was numb… First off, there’s the basic foundation of fear and a feeling of inadequacy for the job. But I feel God really whispered peace over that aspect of it for me and gave me a calm going into it. Then there’s the social interaction of it—the out-going approach one must have to walk into those bays filled with beds divided by drawn-back curtains. At first, the responsive patients seem interested to see who exactly we are and what we’re up to in their room but more often than not once we introduced ourselves as related to the chaplaincy, people closed off. No one wanted prayer. Some people forbid Dorothy even to talk of God to them. All were struggling to understand why they were finding themselves in this place in their lives. I felt so awkward standing there, healthy and whole, beside a friendly, bold Dorothy, witnessing people grappling with such personal pain—especially when they wanted nothing to do with God’s help besides. One lady lying dreadfully ill in bed couldn’t speak any English but she looked miserable. Dorothy with beautiful compassion knelt down on the floor beside her bed and took her hand and just told her she was loved and that everything was going to be okay, whether or not she could understand her. She knelt like that, holding her hand and looking into her face, for minutes that stretched on awkwardly, but in the discomfort my heart was moved to feel just a bit of her depths of pain. We had to suit up in rubber gloves and aprons to enter a private room off the main corridor to sing Happy Birthday to a severely ill and quite disabled 22 year old man. Dorothy knew him quite well because he had been there for awhile and she had a Psalm to read to him all about God’s protection and healing. I stood there looking into the one opened eye of this young man, noticing the glistening brown and wondering what he was thinking, what he was feeling, and listened to her words from the Psalm and just felt so extremely helpless and out of place. Whatever struggles I’ve had in this life are nothing! Whatever woebegone days I’ve endured are nothing! Here was a 22 year old man in the prime of his life lying crumpled up and crippled in a hospital bed while we sang him songs to celebrate his life and promised him that God is with him and has an excellent plan for him and will heal him. It was all just too much. And I went away on complete overload. I know my God is faithful, even unto such as these, but my heart aches for them and I’m frustrated by the awkwardness in interaction caused not by lack of empathy—my heart burns with empathy—but a lack of complete understanding. So, I bring it before my Lord, knowing His ways are higher than mine, His thoughts beyond my comprehension, His love for the people I met that day deeper than I can possibly begin to describe.
But I ask for your prayers. This placement is asking something of me that I didn't realize I had, and so stretching me in ways I didn't think I could be. I just want to shine His love but so often I'm afraid my own selfish timidity gets in the way. Even as a write this, though, a scribbled down Isaiah 8:13 stares up at me from a notepad-- "If you fear God, you need fear nothing else." And so I have nothing to fear...
Once again, sorry about the length! And it's only the tip of the iceberg really : )
May He keep you close,
Leah <><
I am constantly struck by the impossibility of it all. That I'm here, in England. That this has become my life. I don't understand what He's up to but I know He's laid His hand on my life and will not lift it until I resemble His Son...
This morning I went with my friend Marge to a Church of England church called St. Catharine's. We actually went because on the day last week when all the churches in the area sent representatives to the school Marge and I spoke to a past student of Redcliffe named Skye who goes to St. Catharine's and invited Marge and I over for lunch after church today-- knowing that Redcliffe doesn't serve meals on Sunday. Skye is the coolest lady. An enigma. I love enigmas. She dresses all in black, has peircings and tattoos and dark eyeshadow, and the love of God just shining out of her beautiful smile : ) She feels called to become a vicaress in the Anglican church... Her husband is super nice, super soft-spoken, with a long, dark pony-tail and obvious tenderness for their four-year old Sophia, whom he follows about devotedly. I fell in love with their cuddly little newborn, Pheonix. Strange name, beautiful 5-week-old boy. They are living in what was once the servants' quarters of a grand old house just down the street from Redcilffe. They have two bedrooms, a kitchen and a bath and I'm sure they struggle to make ends meet just now but they still didn't hesitate to open up their home to us and fill our plates. We ate at a make-shift table in their bedroom. Such inspiring generosity... To have so little and yet share all they have...
This past Saturday Mike (England), a formidable third year student somewhere past his 50th birthday, organized a morning walk to a cafe in the city centre for a traditional "Full English Breakfast". At first I thought I couldn't be bothered to get up early on a Saturday just for breakfast : ) But they convinced me it would be a "cultural experience" (Later on in the day they got me to watch a game of Rugby on the telly for the same reason-- It would seem they can get me to do almost anything by calling it that : )). They plopped down plates as large as the seat of my chair and filled with foods of all kinds. All I could think was how much my Dad would love this Full English Breakfast tradition : ) Sausages, ham, eggs, fried toast, hash browns, baked beans, and tomatoes! ---- So, Dad, when you get here, we'll be sure to go out for the Full English : )
This weekend has been a good one for just spending time getting to know people better. We've done a movie night (Shanghai Nights-- which really played up on the whole American/English stereotypes so that was fun : )), Rugby-- which North American Football is supposed to have derived from, Full English breakfast with a couple of Englishmen and ladies and two Germans, and strolling through the city during the crazy "Harvest" celebrations. We've done "parlour games", lots of Uno with new rules added in intermidently by Dave (England) and Adriaan (Holland-- though he's taken to speaking his English with a Gloucester accent which is really quite a spectacle : )), and a worship session with Leticia (Brazil) running late into the night. I've been so blessed by new friendships (especially friendly Claire from Nothern Ireland and sweet Mavis from Zimbabwe) and the deepening of others...
I have never had the experience of being part of a prayer partnership until now-- much less a prayer "Triplet" as Leticia, Sarah, and I have taken to calling ourselves : ) We basically just decided one night to get together weekly and pray, to share struggles and be accountable to one another. I feel so... undeserving of being considered a part of this little group. These girls' hearts are so extravagantly beautiful, their faith so mature and full. Even their prayers are beautiful. Sarah is about 32, from Essex, a county in south-east England, and only here for a short course before she heads off to two years of mission-work in Peru. I felt a connection with her and was encouraged by her presence at the college from the first night on. Leticia, is about 25 (I'm guessing, though I haven't actually found out), from Brazil, and a spectacularly delightful little fireball of beauty, friendliness, exuberance, wisdom, eloquence, and love. I love her heart. She has somehow seen something in me worth pursuing, worth getting to know, worth taking time for. And I am so blessed by her presence. Last week we three got together intending to pray and ended up learning to dance the Brazillian Samba as well, amidst much uncontrollable laughter, I assure you : )
On Friday I had my first day of my concurrent mission placement. It's a position on the chaplaincy team of the local Gloucestershire Royal Hospital. I came away so utterly overwhelmed. I really don’t know clearly what I felt, only overly-so. My first day at the hospital I was paired up with a lovely older lady named Dorothy who took me around with her on her neurology ward and just let me observe her interactions with the patients—sort of ‘showing me the ropes’. I’ve come away powerfully touched. It’s as if I was feeling so much that I was numb… First off, there’s the basic foundation of fear and a feeling of inadequacy for the job. But I feel God really whispered peace over that aspect of it for me and gave me a calm going into it. Then there’s the social interaction of it—the out-going approach one must have to walk into those bays filled with beds divided by drawn-back curtains. At first, the responsive patients seem interested to see who exactly we are and what we’re up to in their room but more often than not once we introduced ourselves as related to the chaplaincy, people closed off. No one wanted prayer. Some people forbid Dorothy even to talk of God to them. All were struggling to understand why they were finding themselves in this place in their lives. I felt so awkward standing there, healthy and whole, beside a friendly, bold Dorothy, witnessing people grappling with such personal pain—especially when they wanted nothing to do with God’s help besides. One lady lying dreadfully ill in bed couldn’t speak any English but she looked miserable. Dorothy with beautiful compassion knelt down on the floor beside her bed and took her hand and just told her she was loved and that everything was going to be okay, whether or not she could understand her. She knelt like that, holding her hand and looking into her face, for minutes that stretched on awkwardly, but in the discomfort my heart was moved to feel just a bit of her depths of pain. We had to suit up in rubber gloves and aprons to enter a private room off the main corridor to sing Happy Birthday to a severely ill and quite disabled 22 year old man. Dorothy knew him quite well because he had been there for awhile and she had a Psalm to read to him all about God’s protection and healing. I stood there looking into the one opened eye of this young man, noticing the glistening brown and wondering what he was thinking, what he was feeling, and listened to her words from the Psalm and just felt so extremely helpless and out of place. Whatever struggles I’ve had in this life are nothing! Whatever woebegone days I’ve endured are nothing! Here was a 22 year old man in the prime of his life lying crumpled up and crippled in a hospital bed while we sang him songs to celebrate his life and promised him that God is with him and has an excellent plan for him and will heal him. It was all just too much. And I went away on complete overload. I know my God is faithful, even unto such as these, but my heart aches for them and I’m frustrated by the awkwardness in interaction caused not by lack of empathy—my heart burns with empathy—but a lack of complete understanding. So, I bring it before my Lord, knowing His ways are higher than mine, His thoughts beyond my comprehension, His love for the people I met that day deeper than I can possibly begin to describe.
But I ask for your prayers. This placement is asking something of me that I didn't realize I had, and so stretching me in ways I didn't think I could be. I just want to shine His love but so often I'm afraid my own selfish timidity gets in the way. Even as a write this, though, a scribbled down Isaiah 8:13 stares up at me from a notepad-- "If you fear God, you need fear nothing else." And so I have nothing to fear...
Once again, sorry about the length! And it's only the tip of the iceberg really : )
May He keep you close,
Leah <><
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