Two things...

Hi! It's been a while since I've posted something. I think I've been waiting to have something huge and interesting to tell you, but then I figured that the small things can be huge and interesting too! So...



1. The storks have returned to Alcala. Since I arrived at the start of September, I noticed on every tall building, steeple, and bell tower there are these huge bird nests. I thought they were an eye sore because they are huge and definitely alter the skyline and the beautiful rooftops of historic Alcala de Henares, but they are a local legend and are a symbol for the town. I was also beginning to think the presence of the stork was just a myth because I hadn't seen one. People talked about the storks, but they weren't to be seen. Then one day at the end of October, I turned the corner on my way to Calle Mayor and there was this huge majestic white feathered creature shimmering in the sunlight atop one of the nests! A STORK! A real life stork. No longer are they only in stories bearing children, but they are alive and well and gigantic! I read that they can be up to three feet tall. That's a big bird!

and 2. Today, the church service was really great. I realized what I love about the services here. They are so spontaneous and there's so much room for the Holy Spirit to work. Between praise songs, it's not uncommon for someone just to start praying out loud. Something they've been struck by with the songs or something God is talking to them about. and today it was so great...we were singing the song "I will sing of your love forever" in Spanish (of course...Cantare de tu amor por siempre...) and then seamlessly the English speakers started singing in english and then just as seamlessly the body went back to Spanish. It was amazing and I loved it. Anyone who said language was a barrier to the gospel wasn't taking into consideration the work of God for the building up of His own church! ( I wanted to post a picture for this too...but there aren't any pictures of the Holy Spirit working..that I know of...WAIT! There is. We all had a meal together afterward and talked about how God could continue to do a good work in this small church...

Drum roll please...

TOP TEN

To commemorate my 2 month anniversary in Spain, I thought I’d share my top ten favorite things. Picture David Letterman and his creepy smile:

10. Going to the vegetable market in the street and getting 2 kilos de patatas for like 1,50euros.

9. When people practice speaking English to me.

8. Los Cubanos in the other house who refer to me as “La Americana”. I thought it was cute until the day I realized we were even because I refer to them as Los Cubanos.

7. Singing praise songs in Spanish.

6. Watching old couples walk down the street holding hands.

5. The occasional real hug and not just the kiss both cheeks thing.

4. Alex who calls me “Mi Hermana Trujillo” in a really thick Spanish accent.

3. Trying to avoid touching hand rails in the metro to avoid contracting the plague. It’s become a game.

2. My cup of coffee every morning made with such tender loving care.

1. Listening to people pray in other languages. It's the coolest thing because I think it becomes less about the words that are being said and more about hearing the voice of someone speaking the Almighty King and knowing that He created them and He created the language that they are speaking and he listens with such love to His children in all languages.

He had No Rights

Have We No Rights - A frank discussion of Christian rights
by Mabel Williamson

He had No Rights

No right to a soft bed, and a well laid table.
No right to a home of His own, a place where His own pleasure might be sought.
No right to choose pleasant, congenial companions, those who could understand Him and sympathize with Him.
No right to shrink away from filth and sin, to pull His garments closer around Him and turn aside to walk in cleaner paths.
No right to be understood and appreciated; no, not by those upon whom He had poured out a double portion of His love.
No right even never to be forsaken by His Father, the One who meant more than all to Him.

His only right was silently to endure shame, spitting, blows, to take His place as a sinner at the dock, to bear my sins in anguish on the cross.

He had no rights. And I?

A right to the "comforts" of life? No, but a right to the love of God for my pillow.
A right to physical safety? No, but a right to the security of being in His will.
A right to love and sympathy from those around me? No, but a right to the friendship of the One who understands me better than I do myself.
A right to be a leader among men? No, but the right to be led by the One to who I have given my all, led as is a little child, with its hand in the hand of its father.
A right to a home, and dear ones? No, not necessarily; but a right to dwell in the heart of God.
A right to myself? No, but, oh I have a right to Christ.

All that He takes I will give;
All that He gives will I take;
He, my only right!
He, the one right before which all other rights fade into nothingness.
I have full right to Him.
Oh, may He have full right to me!

No thing is incurable

This week a package arrived at the house for one of the gentlemen in the ministry. His name is Daniel. He's from Nigeria. The package was from Nigeria (The "America" of Africa) and it said that it contained "natural herbs". I'm thinking Daniel's family sent him some seasonings or some special tea. Daniel just dropped by to pick it up and when I gave it to him he said that the herbs are for his diabetes. He said when he told his family that he was diabetic, they said not to worry. They would send him the right herb to take it away. He told me that in Africa they believe that no sickness is incurable and that there's always something that can be taken. The Spanish doctor told him it's incurable and it's a lifetime of coping with being diabetic, but Daniel is confident that won't be the case for him.

I felt compelled to tell you all this little story. I'm positive there's some sort of lesson in there, some spiritual truth, some deep insight. It's early though and my cup of coffee is only half gone. Any thoughts??

Dinner and a reading and a bus ride.

Books I’ve Read since leaving Albuquerque:
1. “Surely you’re joking, Mr. Feynman” by Richard Feynman.
2-6. The entire Lineage of Grace series (Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, Mary) by Francine Rivers.
7. The Last Sin Eater by Francine Rivers
8. Safely Home by Randy Alcorn

Recipes I’ve learned (In the “I’m-not-really-a-chef way of giving instructions):

Pakistani Kima
Brown ground beef with onion and a bit of garlic.
Add can of chopped tomato in juice and two large potatoes cut into bite sized cubes, a good tablespoon full of curry, 1.5 teaspoon of salt and a dash each of ginger, cinnamon, tumeric. Simmer in frying pan for 25 minutes. Serve over rice.

Spanish Tortilla
Cut potato into really thin slices or pieces.
Cut up onion into really small pieces.
Fry up both in frying pan until soft.
Take out of frying pan.
Mix up some eggs in a bowl.
Make sure the grease in the pan is really hot.
Add the three things.
Let stand like you’re making an omelette.
Flip over to cook the other side. (this requires either a pan that folds and has a top and a bottom, or a normal frying pan and a lot of skill)
Tada!

Cinnamon Bread:
We really did make it, but all I remember is it involved yeast...flour...then one hour to rise then pound it down. Another hour to rise then pound it down. Iron it out flat. Spread on Cinnamon and Sugar mixture. Roll it up. Put it in the loaf pan. Let it rise again. Put it in the oven to a golden brown.

Burrito:

Given the wonderful gifts from my parents, I had some refried beans and some Sadie's salsa to play with. I found some good flour tortillas. Next I wanted sausage. I stared at the salchicha section at the supermarket without much ability to read the labels and since I didn't know what I'd be buying, I settled on bratwurst. Cheddar cheese is hard to come by, so I chose an already shredded four cheese mixture containing mozzerella, cheddar, gouda, and emmental cheeses. I sliced the brat, sauteed with onion. I put the beans, the meat, the cheese, the salsa in the tortilla and if that wasn't the most delicious thing I'd ever had in my life!!!

The books and the food all are extremely wonderful and should be attempted by all. Enjoy!


The picture is me waiting for the bus on a sunny afternoon. The red "art" in the background is new and has become a good landmark to remember which bus stop to get off at when I'm coming home. Some think it looks like a hammer and sickle. I think it looks like two fingers...or two fangs biting the sky. By the way, my teeth are doing fabulously and I'm wearing my retainers with great due diligence. My orthodontist would be thrilled. Hey mom...can you call Dr. Fink and tell him to read my blog?

And so it begins

I didn't know that once I got all the daily living things figured out then God would begin the teaching and changing and convicting, but alas He hath. I know where to buy food and how to do my laundry and I know where to take the trash bag when it's full...but I don't know is how to adjust my mind and my heart to living and breathing and worshiping and serving our God in a foreign land. You think it would be the same, but it's not. Everything is different. The things that were easy are now terribly difficult and the things that were hard are harder still.



A few questions that have been given me this week by more than one person are: what are my biggest frustrations, biggest blessings and what are things that are found to be different than expected.



Different than expected: Mostly regarding the church. The church is a new and small church plant, so the leadership and administration and running of it are quite different than I'm used to. There isn't a full time staff member. It seems sometimes that the running of the church is a part time job for everyone. Also, because the church meets in the basement of a living residence, it's not even feasible to have it's own space. "Church" is torn down after the service and set up every Saturday night and during the week the space is used to dry laundry, watch television, check email, eat, etc. I suppose I expected there to be this reserved place for the church to be. And I don't mean just the space...I mean the people. They scatter during the week and have limited contact. It's something the leaders hope to see change and the people to grow closer in this way.



Frustrations: I wish I could talk to the people in a more productive way. I want to be able to have true conversation about life and love and God, but until my Spanish gets a little better it is a real barrier. I want them to have an interest in me as well, to know me. I want to tell them about me and my life as well. They don't ask. Do they care? I'm also confronted with quite a large conviction from our Great God about my own limitations. I can't force "ministry" or force my hands to do something or force my presence to have a purpose. I can't be the god of my life that decides what needs to be done and then do it of my own power. I'm learning that perhaps this is what I've alway done...and what a terrifying place to stand and realize this. To come to a foreign land to truly learn what it means to have a God and a Lord above myself. When you ask God to make you uncomfortable and teach you to trust Him in new and deeper ways....He is faithful.



Blessings: I'm a simplist. My favorite blessings have been such small things. Having Beatriz paint my fingernails and put cute little purple flowers on them. Making Maribel laugh. Opening the door when people arrive for the prayer meeting and have them smile at me and hug me because they know me and care to greet me with smiles. Finding and buying flour tortillas at the supermarket. My prayer time I've etched in my schedule before class every day. Alex calling me "Mi hermana Trujillo" in his thick Spanish accent.



Una foto y un versiculo para nosotros. Romans 9:21 "Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?"

Semana Cervantina

Five days of a medieval fair in Alcala de Henares has just passed in honor of Miguel Cervantes including el Mercado del Quijote, expositions, theatre, music, and enough food to feed an army. I was told this was the biggest event in Alcala for the year. People from all over the world came. Tourists everywhere. Crowded streets! I spent a little bit of time each day walking around to all the vendors. All the things for sale were hand crafted and in the true spirit of medieval/renaissance Europe. Absolutely amazing! I ate roasted chestnuts, the most amazing lemon cake, and some really good roasted chicken on a stick. I even got my name written in Arabic! Good times were had by all. Viva Cervantes!

This street band pounded out a wicked beat that called to me across the plaza...
Me standing next to a creepy wooden statue.
Eating roasted chestnuts that just came from the open fire. Karen, Esther, Margaret, Lisa.

A puppet show for the kiddos.

A real basketweaver!

What the rows of vendors looked like.

The little boy on the right-most horse was really cute!

Don Quixote even showed up!