Check the box first!

We had worked our way through the maze of Swedish furniture, lying on all the mattresses and beds in the process, and I stood now in front of the help desk with the certainty of my decision in hand. I wanted the Björksnäs in the 140x200 cm size. That way it would fit the boxspring I already had at home, though I did want a new mattress, please. The lady handed me the printout, and I followed it down to the letter once we got to the large warehouse hall, hauling only the boxes with the codes she had specified. I was sweating by the time we reached the van, but I couldn’t wait until Karen came over and we could assemble my new purchase.

I had cleared my room of all traces of the old bed, the boxspring and mattress took up the entire hallway, but Karen and I had just enough space to spread out the Ikea boxes and begin alan-wrenching together bed-legs and correctly organizing various frame pieces. At one point, the thought crossed my mind, “This bed is going to block some of the window. I must have measured wrong,” but on we forged. The 16 tiniest screws that had to be hand-twisted into the metal portion where the mattress frame would rest were nearly our undoing. The drill couldn’t reach, and it took the two of us 45 minutes and some hand cramps to get them all in.

About two hours into the process, I reached for the fourth and last box, the one that held the spring wood frames, and that was when my eyes caught the large numbers on the side panel for the first time: 160x200 cm. My eyes darted back to the bed and the extra bit that stuck out in front of the window. In panic I looked at Karen, who threw her hands up to her face. “What?!” “I bought the wrong size everything!” Sure enough, we were able to finish assembling all the bed pieces, thank the Lord, but the boxspring and mattress left a giant-feeling 20-cm gap that I rolled into the first night.

Karen laughed and then cut herself short, “We’re not starting over, are we?!” Of course we didn’t. Those 16 screws alone weren’t worth it, much less another trip to Freiburg and the hassle of a German return. In the end, I was able to sell my 140x200 boxspring and mattress and get a 160x200 size one so that I no longer fall into the gap. But I learned my lesson: always check the boxes for all the numbers.

Bible Flakes

My Bible has been slowly flaking to pieces. I picked it out a few years ago because of the brown-blue cover and paisley pattern that I was into at the time. However, it didn't take long to see that anytime my fingernail caught the edge of the cover, a little bit of the leather would flake off. The recent Home Assignment year of travel that saw me constantly shoving my Bible into a suitcase and yanking it out again didn't do the poor book any favors. Add to all this the sticky humid weather we have been having, the kind you have to wear shorts in and thus lay your Bible on your bare knees, and you get the following picture: 

Leather lint sticking to my skin and clothes. Some days I find little flecks as I'm already in the middle of teaching, a blue dot on my yellow shirt, informing people that I potentially haven't done laundry in a few days. But then this morning - as I caught yet another big chunk under my fingernail and sighed heavily - I was struck by the realization that it is such a privilege. Not only do I have God's Word at my fingertips whenever I want and in my own personal copy with colors I selected, I get to (even inadvertently) carry it with me into the day.

I read in Acts recently about the birth of the Church at Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit was poured out on believers in visible fire and each person got swept up by the wind and consequently carried God's presence out into the world. According to a summary I watched (linked here), the symbolism should remind us of the times God's presence came near in the Old Testament, notably on Mount Sinai and in both the desert Tabernacle and the Jerusalem Temple. Now that Jesus has paved the way, we are all like mini mobile temples who can carry God's glory and truth and Word out into the world all the time. Tiny flakes of Jesus's body. 

So the next time I find a brown dot on my pants leg, I hope I remember to shine bright and speak truth in love, just as Jesus would do.

Flags and Butterflies and Screaming Children

The "Day of Screaming Children" began exactly as it had every previous year at BFA: me, lying awake in bed half an hour before my alarm, previewing in my mind all the day’s events and wondering how they could all fit in. This moniker for the Opening Ceremony came from my first principal because our students - after 11 weeks apart over the summer - usually run screaming at each other followed either by a long embrace or a giddy jumping up and down. Though medical masks muffled some of the sound and kept long hugs at bay this year, the enthusiasm was still palpable. The Senior class eagerly grabbed their favorite flags or those that represented one of their best friends and lined up for pictures while parents yelled, “Smile! Yes, with your eyes!”

Due to regulations, most of the staff had to watch Opening Ceremonies on the big screen in the Student Center. We laughed together over the transmission delay every time we could hear cheering from across campus moments before our visual showed us why. The students were literally cheering for everything. Every flag (from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe), every speaker, every sip of water. We were simply grateful in the allowance of being together in person. 

The day carried me through get-to-know-you games with the Grade 8 boys, an Assembly in which I demonstrated proper German recycling, lunch in the sunshine with some Grade 6 girls, Homeroom time going over rules and procedures, and a whole-school activity coloring parts of multiple butterflies that will decorate our hallways. And it was that last activity that got me thinking about the journeys our students and staff go through to get here. In some ways it is ridiculous that a hoard of expats descends on this unassuming German village every year to do school, but it’s also beautiful. Much like the 2,500-mile trek a monarch butterfly can undertake in just one migration, our people aren’t native to here. Whether we come eagerly or dragging our feet, the colors of the flags adorn our hallways as visible reminders that we all had to travel to get here. Our children scream on this day because, if they have to be 2,500 miles from “home,” it seems best to do that among a flutter of other butterflies who can relate.

This day will quickly give way to the habitual, dare we say the mundane. Eventually it will be my alarm clock waking me up again instead of the other way around. Homework will break into reality, and my guess is by next weekend, we’ll have our first students pushing back on some of those rules and procedures. Still, as we inhale deeply and dive into another year, I'm grateful for visual tokens and days that have names. They remind us that some things should be set apart, that our lives are colorful and our calling holy. It's a day worth remembering.

My unique view of the Seniors with the Flags (Aug 25, 2021)

Messy Mercies

Transition is messy. I’ve cried more times than I’d like to admit in the three weeks I’ve been back, mostly in private and just a tear or two before something beautiful bursts the bubble again, like the sound of church bells or the smell of flowers I hand-picked in a field. At work I’ve been moved to a new classroom. Half of me is mourning the old one that holds so many memories, and the other half of me is excited for an escape to this much cozier-feeling room. Getting to hang out with friends I’ve missed over the past year is a boon to my soul, but then I miss those I got to know better this past year, like my small group and Amanda’s family. Thorsen and Eva no longer call me to dinner with their sweet giggles. Plus, there are giant holes all over town where people left, and even though I said a “proper” good-bye to many of them before I left last summer, I still somehow felt swindled out of their presence in my life. See? Messy.

I found this verse in Mark 5:19 this morning, “Go home to your friends and tell them how much the Lord has done for you and how he has had mercy on you.” My first thought was wishing I had seen it a year ago because it could’ve been a great anthem for Home Assignment. My second thought was how much I looked forward to returning to this home here in Germany and how here too I have friends who should be hearing about what God has done for me. His mercies, though often hidden in the mess, are new every morning.

So how has the Lord shown me mercy in this transition? I see evidence in the friend who has walked the same road as I have for the last 12 months, so she gets my tears and I understand hers. His mercy showed up in an email from a former student about to enter high school, asking if I would consider a mentoring relationship with her. (We’re getting together tomorrow to talk about it.) The arms of a long-time Kanderner who has walked her own transitions over the years gave me a touch of his mercy. I tasted it on Thursday when my prayer group gathered around my table for the first time since before the Pandemic, and we read Psalms together and prayed for our hearts, our school, and the world. His mercy is humming right now under the window in the form of an air conditioner, keeping the sweltering humidity out of at least one room in my house. 

In no way do I mean to negate any of the hard or rotten or terrible aspects of transition. They stink, and often there is no way around them; in the wise words of the Bear Hunt song, sometimes you have to go through it. But in my constant struggle to develop thick skins and soft hearts (see my blog from a year ago), it’s useful to remind my heart of “how much the Lord has done for me.”

a Saturday stroll through the vineyards after a picnic with friends

Oh Olympics, how I love thee

The year I was an RA (2001-02), the Olympics were going to be held in Salt Lake City, so there was never a question in my mind as to how I would decorate my hall. Giant rings hung on the end wall surrounded by laurel wreaths and pictures of athletes doing their thing. The girls' names were etched into fake medals for their doors, and between February 8 and 24, viewing parties were held nightly in the TV lounge, where the girls graciously allowed me to fly my Austrian flag for the skiing events.

I love the Olympics. And as I’ve watched my fair share already over the past week, I’ve tried to put my finger on why exactly I love them. It isn’t as if I’m a hardcore athlete or all that patriotic. When people speak of the enduring human spirit of the games, I work hard not to roll my eyes. I’m also not ignorant of the fact that abuses, scandals, and economic debts have followed most games and some beloved athletes. Still, the lighting of the unique Olympic Torch and the joy with which participants wave their nation’s flags gets me. I cheer when a race ends well, whether the final result was exactly as everyone predicted or a surprise upset (I’m looking at you, Anna Kiesenhofer). 

The “internationalness” of the Games is one thing I love. Yesterday I witnessed an archer from Nepal go up against one from Bhutan - the two nations with the coolest flags on Earth. For the most part, I like that, at least for a moment, politics are put aside, and the Mainland Chinese table tennis player can show respect when losing to the Chinese-Taipei (Taiwanese) player. Sometimes we have to practice on the outside what we wish was true on the inside. Another aspect I enjoy is the heart-pounding thrill of a race well run. Swimmers thrash in the pool for 90 seconds, and suddenly my heart is pounding for the lone Austrian in Lane 8, willing her forward to a place in the round of 16. It’s also fun to see sports I know practically nothing about, like handball, and to suddenly find myself invested in the outcome and learning all the team members’ names from Sweden.

For two weeks the Olympics allow me to dive into a world that is beautiful and diverse and feeds an ache in my heart that I know will only be perfectly fulfilled in heaven. Maybe I have on blinders to some of the negative parts, but I will continue to celebrate the victories of the many nations, praying for their ultimate good to be recognized in the true Victor, Jesus Christ.

Cheering on some of the countries I love.

A Year in Review

It’s July 15 - exactly 365 days since I left Germany! 1 day more and I have fulfilled the legal Totalization requirements in order to return, and let me tell you: I’m thrilled. My bags are (somewhat) packed as I prepare to return on Monday. Reaching this longed-for milestone is causing me to look back over the past 12 months of Home Assignment and get all mushy. God’s goodness is evident in the many miles, relationships, and explorations I got to travel despite it being a COVID-Home-Assignment. Below I’ve selected personal highlights by month. (This may be more for myself so that I have a record in the coming weeks when people ask “how America was”).

15 July - 15 Aug, 2020

two weeks of quarantine, reconnecting with friends, moving in with Amanda and her family, going to Grace Church’s outdoor services, having fun with Andi/Jen and family, vacation with my sister-in-law’s family, joining a Grace Small group on zoom

15 Aug - 15 Sep, 2020

driving to Colorado with Ellen, being with the parents, attending a Debrief with Barnabas Ministries, hiking Black Canyon, starting to teach my online History class, seeing extended family in Nebraska, settling into routine

15 Sep - 15 Oct, 2020
Wednesday zoom calls for Grace Kids ministry, meeting with friends and supporters in Minnesota, making the decision to join ACSI’s Paths to School Improvement Team AND return to BFA, designing new prayer cards, hiking in Duluth with Ellen, volunteering for Walk for Water

15 Oct - 15 Nov, 2020

10-day road trip through Illinois, Indiana, and Michigan with Ellen to see many friends, BFA students, and supporters, volunteering for Pumpkin Carving Night, Amanda’s cancer diagnosis, driving the niece/nephew to Colorado, starting regular PSI Zoom calls, getting Cardigan donuts for Amanda’s post-surgery

15 Nov - 15 Dec, 2020

routine of seeing people I love, weekly zoom calls with kids and colleagues, volunteering for Thanksgiving distribution, watching Huskers games with Kristin, Thanksgiving with Amanda and family, computer problems start, decorate for Christmas, limousine tour to see lights, Christmas Around the World at Grace

15 Dec, 2020 - 15 Jan, 2021

stocking up on German goods from Aldi, falling love with my Small Group, driving to Colorado, Christmas with the family, visiting family and supporters, New Year’s, speaking on two panels for WorldVenture training, going to the dentist, solving computer problems, exploring Colorado parks

15 Jan - 15 Feb, 2021

driving to Texas to see family and supporters, leading first PSI trainings on our App, fun memories with niece/nephew, hot springs, second-semester teaching and Grace Kids ministry, driving to Arizona, speaking at Palmcroft Church, car break down, fly to Hawaii, WorldVenture Debrief on Zoom

15 Feb - 15 Mar, 2021

exploring Oahu, time with Scott/Fiona and nieces, weekly zoom calls at early times of the day, Amanda and Lizzie visit, celebrating 40, chasing sunsets, learned to boogie board, in love with hammocks, vacation on the Big Island, Manuela’s visit, luau, making new friends at International Church

15 Mar - 15 Apr, 2021

special flight around Molokai for Scott’s birthday, Becca’s visit, hiking Oahu, fly to Arizona, car troubles, drive to California, visits with friends, BFA peeps, and supporters, Easter with Jim/Lori hike through Yosemite National Park, drive to Oregon

15 Apr - 15 May, 2021

speaking at Treasure Valley Baptist Church, wrapping up online history class, visits in Portland and Seattle, new BFA staff, hike through Glacier National Park with Ellen, 4-day drive back to Minnesota, more connecting with friends and supporters, Grace Kids in person, vaccine, loss of car due to catalytic converter theft

15 May - 15 June, 2021

prayer weekend in Hibbing, meeting my Small Group people in person, new pastor at Grace, puzzling, fly to Colorado for Custer reunion, weekend at The Barn, tea party with the nieces, time with Grandpa and Nana, becoming IT person for PSI

15 June - 15 July, 2021

Up North cabin time, fly to Chicago for 24 hours to see Rachel and fiancé, hear Andi speak at camp, fireworks for July 4th, Shakespeare in the Park with Kristin, adjusting KLM flight, many many good-byes, 40th Anniversary celebration at Grace Church with bouncy slide, kayaking

Wow, if you're still reading, I'm impressed. Thanks be to God for all the safety and fun that was had this Home Assignment year and also for the hard the lessons learned. I wouldn't have chosen COVID, cancer, or catalytic converter theft, but I'm grateful for generosity and goodness I experienced because of it.

Germany - here I come!

Minimalism and Me

 

I did not grow up in a minimalist home. As a child of the eclectic 80’s whose parents were children of the booming 50’s whose parents had survived the Great Depression of the 30’s, I was instilled with the values of saving most everything. Random items could be repurposed into all kinds of treasures like door-stop commentaries and upside-down CD centerpieces, and you never knew when that 10-liter bag of powdered sugar on sale would come in handy. Truth be told, I didn’t mind the many knick-knacks that lined shadow boxes and reminded me of our family travels or the fact that our city apartment had every sports equipment a kid could want for the park or that we generally had the ingredients handy to whip up any midnight snack. Things were organized and cared for (mostly), and the clutter - if it can be called that - was comfort; it was home.

Still, like many Millenials, I have been at least partially drawn to the minimalist trend of the past few years. Credit Marie Kondo, if you wish, but I think the appeal was there before her spark of joy philosophy. My artistic friends wanted to create an aesthetic, clean, designed look in their homes. Stressed-out friends hoped to rid their living space of unneeded toys or clothes in an attempt to pare down the required upkeep. Conscientious friends desired to reduce their environmental impact by buying and owning less. And I wanted those things, too, having always valued experiences over possessions anyway. 

Yet at the same time, it felt impossible. I watched with envy while these friends swept through their homes, tossing items into garbage bins without regret. They would purchase the perfect contraption that could fulfill the function of three others and sell the superfluous ones on Facebook Marketplace. It was like a game. How small of a backpack could you carry onto the plane and still meet all your needs for that weekend trip? Every time I tucked a laundry basket under my arm and walked from shelf to shelf, I would talk myself out of tossing it. That tattered Chinese fan I never touch? Well that was given to me by sweet Rosemary whom I still try to pray for. That stand-alone Russian teacup? That belonged to my Aunt Barb and is dripping with sentimental value since her passing. That novel set I read in high school? It changed my view of Christ, so while I don’t intend to re-read it, I can’t toss it! You can see how poorly the process goes for me.

Thus it was with almost instant relief that I recently heard a podcaster speak about her slightly twisted philosophy on the minimalist trend: Love the things you have. “Yes!” I shouted in the car. In the decluttering process, I can’t help but wonder how many people have purged themselves of items they actually liked for the sake of living more simply. Personally, I can’t fathom living in a sterile home, so opposite of the one of my childhood. The idea that you get rid of something that has outlived its purpose or receives no love from you and keep the items you still love or - best yet - actively choose to love the things you keep strikes a chord. It feels much more true to who I am: someone attempting to be purposeful and intentional with her purchases and possessions yet filling her heart with gratitude and love. Jesus, help me.

The luggage for my trip to see Rachel last weekend.