Moroccan Adventure

The stars aligned over a Moroccan sky, as during the month of January when not a lot was going on, and cabin fever threatened to drive me crazy, my friend Julie decided to come to Portugal for a visit. Having an adventurous spirit as well, she wanted to not only see Lisbon and where I lived but also Morocco! She asked me if I wanted to come with her and since I had been meaning to visit a couple of friends who had recently moved from Lisbon, Portugal to Casablanca, Morocco, I thought I would take her up on her offer! The flights on easyjet were remarkably cheap, one of them only costing me 10$, so it worked out perfectly and off we went to not just another country, but also another continent!
Since Julie had done most of the planning for the trip, I really didn’t have to think about it much. I merely followed her directions and suddenly I was in Africa! It really was a tremendous adventure! It was full of normal adventure stuff with everything from a few shady alleyways we decided not to go down knowing my mother would not approve, some gorgeous vistas of the Atlas mountains, a few new friends from Morocco and various other countries throughout the world, a little language learning of Arabic, French, and Berber, the nomadic language, and even some camel riding throughout the Sahara Desert! We wondered through the first city navigating and orienting ourselves with maps from travel books and brochures. We found our hostels and friends successfully though not without some frustration. We even enjoyed the best of Moroccan food with couscous galore and plenty of tasty meats to flavor it with! The markets, for me, were one of the high lights of the trip! I loved the colors and the chaos there in. I loved walking by shop after shop filled with brilliantly dyed leather bags, intricately embroidered shoes and finely woven scarves. I even enjoyed haggling with the vendors striving for their lowest price, hoping it truly was their lowest price and not just another bluff! Over all Morocco was a tremendous adventure but it was also an experience.
I knew going into the trip that it would be my first time in an Islamic country, but beyond that I didn’t know what that would mean. Honestly, I was only there for a week, so I can’t really draw any conclusions, and maybe my initial assessments would change had I spent more time there, but let’s just say I was happy to come back to Portugal. There were some beautiful things about the Islamic faith that I admired such as the consistent five times daily calls to prayer. Starting at sunrise around 6:00am while we were there, through the loud speakers in every mosque, about one per block, a call to prayer would ring out. This would happen three more times during the day and then again at sundown. Though I didn’t know what was being said, there was something beautiful in it and how it united the community in their faith. Another beautiful thing that I saw within the Islamic faith is the segregation of genders. Now don’t get me wrong, I am all about equality of the sexes, but with such intense segregation of males and females, we experienced some really special bonding times with our fellow women. While on our way back from Casablanca on the train on our final day, Julie and I found a train car that was only comprised of women. Though it wasn’t the most spacious we sat down, at least knowing that we were safe and secure in our present company. Near the end of the train ride the two berka wearing women sitting across from us, after having eating a bit of the breakfast they had brought with them generously shared with us not only offering us bread but also sharing the very cups they had used to let us drink some coffee. There was something so beautiful in this moment. There was no common language to unite us them not speaking English and us not speaking Arabic, but the bond of femininity welded us together stronger and quicker than I’d ever experienced before. It was a transcending moment for me, knowing that whatever the background and whatever the culture, humanity unites us all. However, the Islamic experience of that week was not with out its dark side. I felt the hopelessness of the women, as they have very few rights and often end up in oppressive situations. I saw the harsh reality of a religion void of grace and based primarily on works. I got on the plane to go home not only relieved that I was returning to a sunny Portugal filled with things that I had grown to love but also because though I’m not perfect, Jesus has paid the price for me entirely, and I stand in the freedom that his love gives me.

Happy 1 Year Anniversary!!!

Signing up for this gig was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done and now that I am a year into it I can hardly believe that it has gone so smoothly. Many of the fears I had before I left seem ridiculous now, and as I come to my one-year anniversary, I see that God faithfulness is the only explanation! A year ago, around mid-January, I boarded a plane to Lisbon, Portugal to live and work with a church planting organization called Christian Associates International. Before that I had been living with my parents in Michigan, working random jobs and preparing to move abroad. In many ways during this time I was bracing myself for the impact of moving to another country, saying goodbye to family and friends and trying to build a life for myself there. With so many unknowns in my future, I found it difficult to keep my anxiety under control. However, today, as I watched the waves crash against the shore while I stretched after my morning run, I realized that like the consistency of wave after wave, God faithfulness never falters. I worried that I wouldn’t have any friends and that people wouldn’t like me for who I am, and now, a year later I don’t seem to have enough time during the week to hang out with all of them. I worried that I wouldn’t have family here, but in the Christian community I find I not only do I have numerous nephews, nieces and cousins to play with, but also several sets of parents to look out for me. I worried that I would struggle with the language and be unable to communicate, but now after a year, I find that I am at level of communication that allows me to enter into conversation and keeps my Portuguese friends from having to speak English so I won’t feel left out! I worried that I would get so sucked into the international community that I wouldn’t be able to build strong relationships with the Portuguese, but since I joined a Portuguese volleyball team and also started making friends in my neighborhood, I now wonder if I’m not spending enough time with internationals. This one sounds silly, but I worried that I would be living in a dark, cold apartment, but I find myself sitting in my adorable apartment with large full windows in every single room, with sunlight shining in to warm me up. Not only is my apartment amazing with dangerously close proximity to the beach, I also live two amazing women who care for me, who laugh we me, watch chick flicks with me and who are working in ministry as well. God has met my personal needs abundantly and has shown me that those things that I worry about are often the things that he has already taken care of. Ministry-wise God is blowing me away as well! My relationships with people around me are going deeper! Trust is being built and I am starting to see the fruit of that trust in some of our conversations and interactions! I am also continuing to see still more relationships being started! When I look back a year ago when I moved here barely knowing a handful of people, and then start list the relationship I have now, I am simply amazed. It makes me wonder why I ever fail to trust God. He knew as I boarded the plane fighting back the tears I didn’t want my mom to see that there was really nothing to be afraid of. He knew that I would definitely have some rough days and rough moments, but He also knew how He was going to provide for me and take care of me. It makes me wonder what other fears I am holding on too that are also entirely unfounded, that will seem ridiculous in a year, a month or even a week. Seeing God come through for me here in Portugal, providing financially, emotionally, socially and even spiritually, gives me peace as I glance into the future and wonder what steps He is asking me to take next. But until then, my Portuguese adventure continues and only God knows what testimony I will get to share next year!

Lessons Learned on the Court

I have been an athlete for as long as I can remember. The first game I picked up was the very invigorating game of tee-ball. A variation of softball that only offers entertainment for the players and that is almost painful to watch for the spectators. Some where in there I played a little soccer and even a little basketball, still never quite finding my niche. I joined a swim team and struggled through painful hours of practice sucking in too much water and almost going nuts for lack of intellectual stimulation. There was a short season of Ultimate Frisbee and some running, but none of these even come close to touching the enjoyment that I find in the wonderful sport of Volleyball! When I first moved to Portugal and discovered that it was actually a possibility for me to play volleyball on an actual team with actual practices and games, I was shocked! For the first two months I was in awe that I should receive such a gift. It really didn’t matter to me if I played or not. I was just happy to have an opportunity to play the game I loved and build relationships with Portuguese gals with similar interests. What a perfect way for me to connect with nationals as well as learn the language! I was so grateful I couldn’t stop telling people about how cool my God was! However, somewhere along the way, my competitive side took over. I wish I could say that I was above caring whether or not I received enough playing time, but I’m not. At the beginning of September with the inauguration of this year’s season, we received several new players a couple of whom were vying for my spot. Something inside me flared up. I started practicing harder, playing harder and being more focused in practice. Though this is not bad in the least, I also started to change the way I saw volleyball. Instead of seeing it as a gift, that the team and opportunity to play was a complete gift from God, I started to see it as something I was entitled too. After starting all last year, I thought I would of course be given my spot back. However, with a glitch in the system and the delay of necessary paper work from the states, I was not even able to dress. Finally when I was able to suit up, I was sitting the bench having been replaced by another player. I struggled with this as it was a huge hit to my competitive nature not to mention my ego. I struggled to have confidence on the court and even struggled to love the girls that were playing in front of me. It came to a head this past week after a very frustrating practice, and I realized that I had to wrestle with this, search my heart and figure out what was going on. Spending some time with God I was reminded of how I felt at the very beginning when I was first invited on the team. I remembered that like everything God gives us, volleyball was a gift. Like the air I breathe, the clothes I wear, the food I eat, the relationships I have and the games I get to play, it is a gift. If I hold onto it, grasping it as if I would be lost without it, as if the gift is so much more important than the giver, I not only miss the point of the gift, but am also more prone to lose it. However, if I set it in my open hands, thanking God for it, and being open to the thought that it could be taken from me, I will not only be grateful for it, but I will also enjoy it so much more. Last night we had a game. It was a tough match. Not starting again, I walked to the bench determined to contribute in someway. I analyzed the opponents, gave my opinions and supported my team from the bench. I held it with an open hand just being grateful for the time with the girls and the practices I enjoyed during the week. I was focused, and determined to love those around me. Eventually I got in and had a wonderful game complete with several kills, a few aces and a plethora of amazing digs, but it wasn’t my playing that made it fun, it was my attitude. For me, yesterday, volleyball was a gift. It was exactly what it was meant to be and nothing more than it should be.

Christmas in Portugal!!

In some ways I was bracing myself for impact not know exactly how my first Christmas away from home would actually go. I was bracing myself for a Christmas without snow, without my parents, bro’s, sister-in-laws and nephews, without my innumerable extended family members, without grandma’s pig-n-blankets, and without my Chihuahua. I wasn’t sure how it was going to feel spending my Christmas in another country with people, all of whom I had known for less than a year. But to my grand surprise it was actually wonderful! Ok so there is nothing that can replace said list above, but the fact that I was extremely happy and contented without aforementioned list makes me think that God really did provide for me this Christmas. The party began on the morning of Christmas Eve when I met my Portuguese mother Lourdes and a couple of her friends for coffee. I put on a a festive red sweater and with gifts in hand sauntered down to Café Alice. Café Alice is a stone’s throw away from my place and though the ambience is nothing to write home about, it does carry with it a Cheers-like atmosphere where everyone knows your name! We enjoyed our little lattes and exchanged presents. It was a special time, because unlike the presents I had shipped to my family via amazon.com, I was able to wrap these and give them myself. Manual, the owner of the Café Alice, looked at me with disgust when I handed him a present wondering why in the world I would give him anything. At first I had wondered if I had done something culturally inappropriate but Lourdes assured me that his dismayed look was only evidence of the fact that he had nothing to give me. I laughed and explained that the people in this café were my family this Christmas and hence were the ones I bought presents for. It was a special time I was glad that I had stayed in Portugal for. After coffee, I tried my hand at making Christmas cookies by myself for the first time! With the help of my friend Whitney they turned out fabulous, almost perfect! We piled them on a plate to take to our Christmas Eve service but instead of taking them we decided to give them to the ladies working in the bakery just below my apartment! They were delighted, and oohed and ahhed at the colors and sprinkles. To my surprise, after explaining the tradition to them, one of them whipped around and grabbed one of their “Bolo do Rei” cakes (meaning cake of the king, a traditional Portuguese Christmas cake) and handed it to me in exchange! It was again a neat time of giving and receiving! Whitney and I then buzzed up to the Christmas Eve gathering where we sang carols and focused our attention on the reason for the season! However, at 7:00pm the night was yet young for at 7:30 my Portuguese friend Mari, was scheduled to pick me up to share the evening with the whole of her extended family to celebrate in typical Portuguese fashion. Little did I know that I would not see my bed that night until 2:00am! The Portuguese are the most sleep deprived nation in Europe, but they sure know how to have a good time. I felt so honored to be able to step into Mari’s world and experience Christmas with her. She showed me around and introduced me to her aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandma and I thought to myself, how it was not very unlike the crazy Christmas Eve gathering on the Statema side!Some of the festivities included drinking soup out of a small bowl as a starter, eating Codfish and of course a plethora of desserts, and drinking a strong dose of Portuguese coffee around midnight. Presents were stealthily placed under the tree while the children were in another room trying to spy out a window for Santa. Then with a bell and a lot of clapping we pretended to wave goodbye to Santa as the kids rushed in so bummed that they had just missed him. Their disappointment didn’t last long however, because they soon had their hands full tearing open their presents! It was such a fun night, and though, I missed my family, I was able to appreciate Christmas on the Portuguese side of things! Christmas day was a day filled with relaxing, eating and playing games with some other Americans in the area. I was glad to have a day to recover from the craziness the day before. All in all my Christmas, though very different, was wonderful! It was filled with my family here, both American and Portuguese, and I am so grateful to have been able to celebrate the birth of my Savior with so many!