In Spanish you don't commonly say "I love you." Instead, it's literally translated "I want you." Part of being loved is knowing you belong and you're wanted.
I'm currently in a job where I feel wanted and loved, and I love and want this job. I'm working as the Global Outreach Assistant for Tenth. I get to be the liaison between the congregation and the workers. I get to talk about global outreach all the time. I get to work with people I respect and admire for their faith and work.
Of course, I'm ever the instigator because I'm always trying for a bigger emphasis on Spain and the Hispanic world. One of my coworkers joked that I should fly my three-foot Spain flag out my office window during GO Conference (our biggest annual Global Outreach event). I entertained the thought longer than I should've, but managed to sneak a Spain flag into a table arrangement at the dinner that served to cap the conference.
I recently found that we have a retired worker up near Barcelona, so I'm going to try to visit her when I get across the pond next.
Please continue to pray for Spain. ¡España, te quiero!
12 November 2012
08 October 2012
Reminders
I need reminders constantly about what Christ did for me. I tend to get too bogged down in circumstances, cynical about humanity, and lost in my own selfishness.
One of the blogs that helps to snap me out of it is Nada's blog. She's a dear sister at my church, and you can read about her here. Her simple worship in spirit and in truth encourages me to work harder for the Kingdom.
03 October 2012
Becoming Spanish
While I was in Spain, my friends Ken and Alison gave me a lovely book by the Condesa de Quintanilla, "The Story of Pascualete." The Condesa (countess) is an American who was recruited by the OSS (and a bit later, the CIA) and assigned to Spain during the Second World War. There she met her husband, a count. A quick browse around the Internet shows that she's been quite the socialite for more than fifty years.
Though probably not a believer, Lady Aline demonstrates such a pure love and fascination with Spanish culture in her book. The way she describes all the characters who live and work around and in her manor house, Pascualete, in southern Spain shows a deep affection for her adopted country. In this, I hope to follow her example.
In the last few weeks I've been trying to continue my Spanish education. God has been wonderful in providing me opportunities to read and speak. Pray that I would be diligent in everything He's provided.
Though probably not a believer, Lady Aline demonstrates such a pure love and fascination with Spanish culture in her book. The way she describes all the characters who live and work around and in her manor house, Pascualete, in southern Spain shows a deep affection for her adopted country. In this, I hope to follow her example.
In the last few weeks I've been trying to continue my Spanish education. God has been wonderful in providing me opportunities to read and speak. Pray that I would be diligent in everything He's provided.
20 September 2012
New normal
I made it safely back to Philadelphia on Monday night. I've been really blessed this week to ease back into normal life here. Back to trains and projects (and friends!) and life in my church.
It's impossible not to feel pangs of "Spain-sickness" (as opposed to homesickness). The trip clarified some refocusing I must do in my own life as I prepare for service there in the next few years. Please pray as I take next steps here in the United States.
You can also be praying for the Schlegel family as they seek to get back to Spain, too. Read more about them and their work here.
It's impossible not to feel pangs of "Spain-sickness" (as opposed to homesickness). The trip clarified some refocusing I must do in my own life as I prepare for service there in the next few years. Please pray as I take next steps here in the United States.
You can also be praying for the Schlegel family as they seek to get back to Spain, too. Read more about them and their work here.
16 September 2012
Two sides
On Saturday I went to both the Prado and Reina Sofia museums in Madrid. I'd never seen Picasso's Guernica, and since I'm most fascinated by the history of the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939), the Reina Sofia had enough art from that era to keep me busy. In the Prado I got to explore new sections of Goya and El Greco paintings. Oh, to live in Spain!
But before I got to the art museums, I collided with another side of Spain: climbing out of Atocha train station, I faced tons of people wearing red, waving political flags and yelling grievances into bullhorns. It was was one of the biggest protest days, my roommate explained later. News of austerity measures and threat of economic collapse came into sharp focus. People from as far away as Andalusia came by tour bus and blocked several main streets for hours.
I saw yet another side of Spain later that evening, when I was walking toward the cathedral in Alcalá. All the bells in the tower were ringing, and as people drew near some local dignitaries poured out of the entrance. An honor guard dressed in velvet (in this heat!) stood at attention and played La Marcha Real, the national anthem. The onlookers went nuts when they finished! That's when I caught sight of the reason for the spectacle: some gentlemen of Alcalá were carrying La Virgen on a gigantic silver float that had mounds of white lilies on it. La Virgen itself was quite tiny - only about two feet tall - but the float even had a little steering wheel in the back. People stood around in various degrees of indifference and religious devotion as it passed. I started tearing up as I witnessed some of the older people paying tribute to this statue. How I hope someone tells them they can have a relationship with the God who loves them so much - and praying to a little lace statue won't accomplish that. On another note, I do wish we would honor Christ with the intensity as some of those Spaniards honored La Virgen.
This morning I went to the evangelical church in Alcalá and got to see some friends from four years ago. It's on the bigger side than I've seen (About 30 today, not including kids), and the metaphor of the light shining in the darkness struck me as this church worshipped amidst the shuttered nightclubs and "drinking dens" (rather sleazy unregistered bars) that crowd around it.
Tonight is my last night in Spain, and I have a lot to think about. In a few hours I'll hop a plane back to the States and face the next phase. Please pray for wisdom and grace. Pray for Spain.
But before I got to the art museums, I collided with another side of Spain: climbing out of Atocha train station, I faced tons of people wearing red, waving political flags and yelling grievances into bullhorns. It was was one of the biggest protest days, my roommate explained later. News of austerity measures and threat of economic collapse came into sharp focus. People from as far away as Andalusia came by tour bus and blocked several main streets for hours.
I saw yet another side of Spain later that evening, when I was walking toward the cathedral in Alcalá. All the bells in the tower were ringing, and as people drew near some local dignitaries poured out of the entrance. An honor guard dressed in velvet (in this heat!) stood at attention and played La Marcha Real, the national anthem. The onlookers went nuts when they finished! That's when I caught sight of the reason for the spectacle: some gentlemen of Alcalá were carrying La Virgen on a gigantic silver float that had mounds of white lilies on it. La Virgen itself was quite tiny - only about two feet tall - but the float even had a little steering wheel in the back. People stood around in various degrees of indifference and religious devotion as it passed. I started tearing up as I witnessed some of the older people paying tribute to this statue. How I hope someone tells them they can have a relationship with the God who loves them so much - and praying to a little lace statue won't accomplish that. On another note, I do wish we would honor Christ with the intensity as some of those Spaniards honored La Virgen.
This morning I went to the evangelical church in Alcalá and got to see some friends from four years ago. It's on the bigger side than I've seen (About 30 today, not including kids), and the metaphor of the light shining in the darkness struck me as this church worshipped amidst the shuttered nightclubs and "drinking dens" (rather sleazy unregistered bars) that crowd around it.
Tonight is my last night in Spain, and I have a lot to think about. In a few hours I'll hop a plane back to the States and face the next phase. Please pray for wisdom and grace. Pray for Spain.
14 September 2012
Finding a place
One of the neat things about being back is the opportunity to get together with friends I worked with in 2008. I had a lovely lunch (curry!) on Wednesday in new Alcalá with Ken and Alison, discussing next steps and different modes of returning to work in Spain. That evening I got to attend Alison's English conversation group and meet some dear Spaniards with impressively high English levels. English tutorials are apparently still in high demand, so that may be one route for me.
This morning I met Craig and Becky for breakfast in old Alcalá, and we talked about the SEND end of the work. In both sets of friends it's evident that God is working quite profoundly in Spain. The timing may not be as quick as we'd like, but His purposes are being accomplished.
One thing I'm very thankful for is that these friends are very honest about the work here. There is no sugarcoating the process. The work is hard. God is faithful. And there are so many reasons to rejoice!
The week is going really fast - too fast for me! I feel very thankful and blessed for this time.
This morning I met Craig and Becky for breakfast in old Alcalá, and we talked about the SEND end of the work. In both sets of friends it's evident that God is working quite profoundly in Spain. The timing may not be as quick as we'd like, but His purposes are being accomplished.
One thing I'm very thankful for is that these friends are very honest about the work here. There is no sugarcoating the process. The work is hard. God is faithful. And there are so many reasons to rejoice!
The week is going really fast - too fast for me! I feel very thankful and blessed for this time.
11 September 2012
Wherein I am helped by Jehovah's Witnesses
I'm a big ball of joy right now.
After I went through the pinball machine-like journey of grabbing the Metro from the airport, then catching the Cercania (regional rail train) to Alcalá plus a wonderful jaunt through old neighborhoods, some communication with my host wasn't clear and I ended up waiting in the lobby of my soon-to-be apartment building. I asked an elderly lady and her granddaughter if they'd send a text to my host. Praise the Lord, this solved the communication issue and in half an hour I was in my piso. But during that half hour (they were kind enough to wait with me), I found that they were Jehovah's Witnesses, canvassing the neighborhood. I wish I could've added more to the discussion, but we talked about the person/divinity of Jesus. As is customary, they left me with some tracts. Please pray for these kind yet lost ladies, Brigida and Sarai.
One of the weirdest things about being back is what I've forgotten - whether language or cultural nuances. I can understand and make myself understood, but my pride jabs me because I keep forgetting details. God's been teaching me a lot in the past few hours - and the people I've spoken to have given me grace (even if I can tell they're amused by my grammatical fumblings!).
My roomie in the piso is named Sophie. She's Hungarian and here studying for a semester, then working in Madrid. The only way we can communicate is in Spanish, so it's great practice for us!
I'm so incredibly thankful for how the Lord has allowed me to return to Spain, if just for a week. All praise to Him.
After I went through the pinball machine-like journey of grabbing the Metro from the airport, then catching the Cercania (regional rail train) to Alcalá plus a wonderful jaunt through old neighborhoods, some communication with my host wasn't clear and I ended up waiting in the lobby of my soon-to-be apartment building. I asked an elderly lady and her granddaughter if they'd send a text to my host. Praise the Lord, this solved the communication issue and in half an hour I was in my piso. But during that half hour (they were kind enough to wait with me), I found that they were Jehovah's Witnesses, canvassing the neighborhood. I wish I could've added more to the discussion, but we talked about the person/divinity of Jesus. As is customary, they left me with some tracts. Please pray for these kind yet lost ladies, Brigida and Sarai.
One of the weirdest things about being back is what I've forgotten - whether language or cultural nuances. I can understand and make myself understood, but my pride jabs me because I keep forgetting details. God's been teaching me a lot in the past few hours - and the people I've spoken to have given me grace (even if I can tell they're amused by my grammatical fumblings!).
My roomie in the piso is named Sophie. She's Hungarian and here studying for a semester, then working in Madrid. The only way we can communicate is in Spanish, so it's great practice for us!
I'm so incredibly thankful for how the Lord has allowed me to return to Spain, if just for a week. All praise to Him.
29 August 2012
Returning
I wish I could say I was returning for good, but it's good enough for now. I'll be visiting my old haunts in the Madrid area the second week of September. I'm incredibly blessed to have both the time and resources to do so (plus it's the first real vacation I've done by myself!). I can't wait to see what's changed and what hasn't, and to get a renewed vision for work in Spain. Lord willing, I hope to catch up with folks I worked with back in 2008. I must admit I'm also looking forward to the opportunity to consume lots of cafe con leche and tortilla española.
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