Beautiful Upon the Mountains

The Road Goes Ever On

2008-08-16T03:41:00.004+02:00

I'm not really sure if anyone is reading this anymore....but perhaps you are. On the slight hope that someone will read this, I want to tell you the end of the story of my summer. Let me begin by offering my heartfelt thanks to everyone who has read this blog. I've been amazed to hear how many people have invested the time to share my summer with me through my words and pictures. Thank you so much!

My last week was wonderful. I savored every sight, every smell, every taste, every laugh, every tear, as each moment was heightened by the awareness of impeding finality. We spent Friday and Saturday debriefing as a team (journaling, reflection, discussion, worship) and now that I am back in America, I am incredibly greatful for those two days. The end seemed brutally sudden, but those days of processing our experience as a whole helped immensely to soften the blow.

The memory of Saturday night is the one I will always cherish and carry with me as my lasting imprint of my time in Prague. The interns were all gathered in Mark and Joanna's living room, ready to hear the final devotion. Mark read the story of Jesus washing the disciples' feet, and said a few brief words about service as an act of worship...then told us that he and Joanna wanted to wash our feet. We all looked at each other with a bit of disbelief (a small taste of how I'm sure the disciples must have felt), wondering if they were literally going to wash the grime off our dirty feet from the long hike we took that afternoon. They did, praying with us individually as they washed, giving us a true picture of servant leadership....giving us a true reflection of Jesus. It was incredibly humbling, moving, and beautiful. It wasn't just meaningful because of that one moment, but because it was a tangible reminder of the many ways they continually served us all summer. How thankful I am for their faithful friendship and guidance through those two months.

Our last day, Sunday, felt like a long blur of goodbyes, each one a fresh stab of sadness. The first was precious little Sasha, who sobbed as he walked away from us for the last time. I'm not sure he truly understood the finality of what was happening, but regardless, his cries tore at my heart. After that, each one is still a vivid picture in my mind....hugging Dot, Jason, and the Syvertsons for the last time....then walking away crying from Joanna on a dark street....then rounding the corner until I could no longer see Mark and Lucie at the Prague airport (and subsequently bursting into tears)....then telling the interns goodbye one by one....Michael's final prayer with us, Lindsay driving away with her parents, Hannah stepping off the train, leaving Jeremy at his terminal, and waving to Will as I boarded my plane to Greensboro. When I finally sat down in that plane, alone for the first time, I felt emotionally spent, as though a million bandages were ripped off one after another.

So now I'm back in America, and life feels somewhat surreal. My amazing family and my wonderful friend Sarah met me at the airport with a sign that read, "Welcome Home Kristi" in Czech. I explained that the phrase "vitej doma" was not in my conversational Czech vocabulary, but I could surmise the meaning based on the context! I was incredibly happy to see them, but the whirlwind of sadness and fatigue was still swirling in my mind. The whole night I struggled to surpress tears at random moments that would suddenly remind me of someone or somewhere or something I left behind.

When we all first got back to America, the interns talked about how it all felt like a long dream from which we were suddenly awakened. The whole summer was surreal in my mind...the beauty of epic proportions, the strange quirks of European culture, adventures in city living, being stretched and challanged in ways I could have never imagined. But as I thought and reflected over the next few days, I was thankful for the ways it didn't feel like a dream. The memories and experiences from Prague are vivid and plentiful in my mind and I still feel the ways they are impacting my heart and mind. As the World Harvest Mission Sending Center staff in Philadelphia prayed for the interns this past week, each one of us requested a similar prayer: that this would not be a seperate, compartmentalized, distant chapter in our lives, but that it would be woven in the fabric of our identity and story from this day forward. That is still my prayer today. Prague transformed the way I view the world, myself, and God, and that transformation will continue to evolve as I step back into another realm of life on my college campus. I'm excited to see where the journey will lead from here, as God faithfully continues to gently open my eyes and expand my heart.

Joanna's prayer for me as she washed my feet was that I would go out into the world and continue to get my feet dirty....serving joyfully, loving freely, walking with my King.

So I'm going to keep walking with dirty feet, dancing as a child who is beloved and free.

"The Road goes ever on and on..."

Reasons Why I Will Miss Prague

2008-08-08T20:30:00.010+02:00

Amazing architecture and sculpture. Sometimes I feel like I'm walking in a fairy tale....

Delectable espresso (I have multiple shots every day now) and delicious desserts!

Breathtaking views like this:

This friend, who is very dear to my heart. If his current life is any indication of the future, Sasha will grow up to be a famous gourmet chef, a ladies man, and quite a captivating storyteller.

These ladies...that's Hannah, me, Dot, and Lindsay. You girls are precious to me!

These boys: (they're normally not so intense, but they were being models. It's a serious job). That's Will, Michael, and Jeremy.

Eliasova, the street where I live with my two fun, wonderful, beautiful roommates.

Most of all, this whole magnificent crazy crew and this cozy, welcoming living room. I love every single one of you! Thanks for being my family here in Prague....you guys are an enormous blessing and each of you have helped to write the pages of this wonderful chapter in my life.

(that's Mark, Jeremy, Hannah, Me, Bethany, Lindsay, Joanna, Mike, and Will)

Justice and Mercy

2008-08-05T18:22:00.007+02:00

We returned from Krakow on Monday afternoon, and I'm just now gathering the energy to write about our trip. I'm sitting in Coffee Heaven in a big comfy chair, sipping my latte and savoring a chocolate muffin as I look out the window at the bustling streets of Prague. Seems like pretty good writing conditions to me.

Poland was absolutely beautiful. I couldn't imagine a better location for a spiritual retreat. After a long seven hour train ride, we finally arrived at our great hostel in Krakow late Wednesday evening. Along with the six interns were the Stewart family, the Hunter family (the WHM missionaries who we stayed with in Vienna), Bethany (who flew over from the States to help lead the teaching during our retreat), and our friends Jason and Dot. In other words, it was a pretty large crew.

Our time was mostly filled with group worship and teaching time, as well as individual discipleship and personal reflection. We skimmed the surface of World Harvest's Sonship program, which is absolutely amazing from the tiny portion of it that I've heard. All of us were challenged to explode the way we apply the actual truth of the Gospel to the way we view ourselves, the way we view others, and the way we view God. The particular areas we tried to unpack were sin, grace, repentance, conflict, and forgiveness. We held our sessions down in the hostel's pub, and by the end of the week, the bar workers asked if we could keep our door open so they could hear us singing hymns.

I love the town square in Krakow. It's a huge open space filled with beautiful sidewalk cafes and a large market of Polish jewelry and pottery. The atmosphere was very different than Prague....so friendly and full of life. I loved walking along the street to the melodic sounds of a waltz played by the violinists at all the restaurants. There were also some really interesting performances in the center square, such as a break dance troupe, a man who moved marionettes to Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean," men who danced with fire batons to the rhythms of live drumming, and a sequin bedazzled Polish male singer who was accompanied by some rather shady flamenco dancers. All of it just felt marvelously vibrant and European.

On Thursday, we visited the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camps. I'm incapable of even beginning to put my experience there into words. I have always had a major interest in the Holocost, but there is a world of difference between reading about it in a history book and actually walking through gas chambers where millions of people were coldly exterminated from existence. When we entered the camp, I felt a heavy weight come on me, and it never left. I felt physically sick and burdened to think about the immense evil perpetrated in that camp of death, and couldn't help crying as we walked through parts of Auschwitz. It's one thing to hear about over a million people dying in that one camp.....it's another to see expansive mountains of their shorn hair. It's easy to dehumanize numbers...not so easy when you walk past piles and piles of shoes, taken from the feet of those who were murdered. To put faces with those shoes...that adorned the feet of smiling children, that an adoring husband gave to his lovely wife....and hardest of all to face, the pairs that looked exactly like shoes I own. I couldn't escape the thought that these people could have so easily been my family and friends. It shocked all of us to hear the exact details of how the entire murderous operation was so precisely planned, so cruelly calculated with cold effeciency by so many people. The utter deception of the whole thing was stunning, too...almost no one who stepped off those trains knew what they were about to face. It makes me sick to think that many bought their own train tickets....tickets to their death. We saw large rooms full of kitchen utensils and suitcases....these people simply believed they were being relocated, and packed up their entire lives.

More staggering and heartbreaking than the thought that I could be one of these victims was the realization that I could also have been one of the perpetrators. The deep evil that took place in Auschwitz lingers in my own heart. It was good to go to the concentration camp directly before talking about sin, to recognize the full capacity for evil in the human condition, to recognize the full capacity for the evil in my human flesh. I like to think of the Holocost as a misguided, horrific accident, casued at the hands of a few power hungry lunatics....but the truth is, it took hundreds of people to carefully plan every detail of this mass execution. Normal people, like me. These people were not brutal, ignorant savages....they were wealthy, educated, and civilized. They listened to classical music and appreciated beautiful art. They were not so brainwashed and blind as I would like to think. The human heart is so quick to embrace an ideology of hatred and exclusion. I think of my own prideful desires to be glorified as an integral member of something significant and to be recognized for my intelligence, and I wonder how quickly those desires would have led me to embrace Nazism during that time. I would like to think of myself as Corrie Ten Boom, when I'm often more similar to the Nazi guards. As we walked through the camp, I found myself angry and thirsty for justice. My anger began to turn towards myself as I realized that similar atrocities are happening today, as basic human rights to life are viciously trampled in so many nations around the the world, and I turn a blind eye. The horror of the Holocost began when people were able to dehumanize other people, and that's exactly what I chose to do to suffering people groups today. I hear about the ravaged lives of people in Darfur and the millions dying in the AIDS crisis, and they become mere numbers in my brain, statistics without faces and souls.

My prayer is that my heart would break over injustice, whether its over the starving orphan in Darfur or the hungry homeless woman sleeps five minutes away from my comfortable bed in Greensboro, NC. But even that isn't the end of the story. Micah 6:8..."He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?" I cannot only desire justice...I must desire mercy as well. Though I loved the idea of God's righteous wrath being poured out at the end of time on the perpetrators of inhumane cruelty, I struggled to accept that the cross of Christ could also cover those people. I remembered Corrie Ten Boom's story of leading one of her former Nazi concentration camp guards to Christ, and I found myself angry at the thought of that horrible person being shown mercy. Why do I not believe that the blood of Christ is powerful enough to forgive the Nazi guard as well as it cleanses my own dark heart? My pride and self-righteousness were thrown in my face, realizing how much I truly believe I deserve the grace of God. How quick I am to strive to pay for what I get for free, to judge others by a law that I can't keep.

On that note, I will leave you with some words from one of my favorite Derek Webb songs that played continually in my head this past week (go and listen to it yourself):

i repent, i repent of my pursuit of america's dream

i repent, i repent of living like i deserve anything

i am wrong and of these things i repent
i repent, i repent of parading my liberty

i repent. i repent of paying for what i get for free

and for the way i believe that i am living right

by trading sins for others that are easier to hide

i am wrong and of these things i repent
i repent judging by a law that even i can't keep

of wearing righteousness like a disguise

to see through the planks in my own eyes
i repent, i repent of trading truth for false unity

i repent, i repent of confusing peace and idolatry

by caring more of what they think than what i know of what we need

by domesticating you until you look just like me

i am wrong and of these things i repent

The Joys of Jihlava

2008-07-29T10:32:00.006+02:00

I'm finally back to blogging! My apologies for my long absence. I've been without a computer for the past week in the village of Jihlava, working with an Athletes in Action sports camp. It's been an incredible week, difficult but rewarding. There's so much I wish I could say about the whole experience, but I'll at least attempt to capture small bits.

Our team was half American, half Dutch....the Americans being myself, Lindsay, Michael, and Will, the Dutch being Annemarie, Kirstie, Joyce, and Chris. We were all instantly thrown into several different types of culture shock:

1) the village of Jihlava. It's utterly different than what we were accustomed to in Prague, just like any small town in the US is different than a big city.

2) the Czech church. The church that hosted us for the week literally had only six members, and very limited ability to communicate with us in English. It was a beautiful experience to sit an a worship service, singing in English, and hearing the same song sung in Dutch and Czech on either side of me. What a taste of the multi-ethnic beauty of heaven.

3) the Czech youth culture. I can't even begin to describe Czech teenagers. Hip-hop culture is very popular in the Czech Republic...so we would have these guys show up to play basketball wearing do-rags and baggy jeans and American jerseys and trying to do crazy street dribbling moves they had seen on MTV. They all love American rap and R&B music. It just made me laugh so hard sometimes....there are virtually no African-Americans here, and these kids have no idea what actual American street culture really is like, yet they all imitate it. When I would tell teenagers that my university is over 50% African American, their mouths would literally drop in shock. They can't even imagine what that's like, but they think it's absolutely amazing.

4) the Czech language. The language barrier was intensified immensely from what it is in Prague. Most Czech children learn English in school, but they are all highly self-conscious and unwilling to practice their English with foreigners. I was so incredibly thankful for my eight brief Czech lessons this past week. I would throw out anything I knew to just try and talk with them, even ridiculous phrases and random words. A lot of the teenagers were very willing to try and work with me, to teach me as I would throw out a verb and start guessing at endings, to teach me new words, to laugh with me when I completely butchered their language, to translate my mixture of sign language and words. They seemed so greatful and excited to even have someone attempt to speak with them, and they were so incredibly complimentary of my limited Czech, even though I know its horrible. I kept telling them their English was much better than my Czech, and they never believed it. I can't tell you how hard it is to want to carry on a conversation with someone and be so completely limited. All we were there to do is build relationships with these kids....and how do you do that when you don't speak the same language?

5) the Dutch. There are no words to even describe the Dutch. All I can say is, I wish I could move to Holland! We absolutely loved our Dutch teammates, and formed a really quick bond across cultural boundaries with them that was such an unexpected blessing. They all had impeccable English, and were so gracious to use it all week with us. Even in one-on-one conversations with each other, they chose to speak in English so that we would never feel isolated. The Americans felt so incredibly humbled by their decision to not use their own language for our sake. Each one of them was so incredibly cheerful and energetic and funny....I think Holland is ranked as one of the happiest countries in the world, and now I understand why! They introduced us to several Dutch desserts (I will never forget the chocolatey goodness of Knoppers) and we introduced the concept of American breakfast to them. We ate a typical Dutch breakfast almost every morning, which consists of bread, butter, cheese, and salami. So to me, it felt strange eating lunch foods in the morning, but they were shocked to hear the sort of things we eat for breakfast in America. After we described typical American breakfast foods like muffins, bacon, eggs, and pancakes, their eyes widened and one of them exclaimed, "Now we know why Americans are so fat!" We explained that we're also an obese nation because we drive our cars everywhere. In Europe, you just walk all the time and use public transportation. The Dutch were also surprised about some other American things....like the fact that we own guns and the fact that we have to pay to go to college.

Another thing I loved about the Dutch was hearing them pray. I never really thought about cultural differences in terms of prayer before. Their prayers almost entirely consisted of questions....it would sound something like this (imagine it in a beautiful Dutch accent): "Lord, do you want to bless us? I want to ask you if you want to give us good weather today? Do you want to help us reach the kids? Lord, I want to ask you if would like to unify our team?" I realized that our American prayers were almost entirely declaratory statements...."Lord, we want you to do this," not "Lord, do you want to do this?" Although there is certainly a place for boldness and authority in prayer, it was refreshing to hear such an attitude of humility in speaking to God.

As for our week....
Things were difficult:

-The Americans spoke very little Czech, and the Dutch spoke none. There were moments when I just got so angry at my inability to communicate the things I wanted to say so desperately.

-Half of our team members got sick and couldn't play sports.

-The weather was cold and rainy most of the week, so it was hard to get kids to come out and "sport with us" (as the Dutch would say). Surprisingly, we got far more teenagers than children.

-Our accomodation was remarkably sketchy. Have you heard of the horror movie "Hostel?" That's basically where we were. We were in a sort of dormitory called an "ubytovna," which we later found out directly translates to "less than a hotel." The first couple of days were nice...we had nice rooms, communal showers and bathrooms, a shared kitchen and living room. Then we got some neighbors. Around Tuesday, a bunch of Slovakian construction workers filled the other rooms on our hall, and that's when things started to get crazy. Apparently in Slovakian construction worker culture, common behaviors include walking around mostly naked, smoking multiple packs and leaving your ashes in other peoples dishes, watching porn in a communal living room, and drinking homemade rum straight from the bottle. It was the weirdest culture shock any of us had ever experienced. There was one night me and my American teammate Michael were fixing some food around midnight in the kitchen, and we see this old Slovakian guy stumble out of his room down the hall, wearing only tight spandex underwear, holding a bottle of rum. He staggers to the bathroom, and proceeds to deliver a drunken sidekick to the bathroom door. All we could do was double over laughing and say, "Where are we?!" Really, it was the most bizzare experience of my life.

Things were also really great:

-I got to lead volleyball. My friends who have seen me play volleyball will understand how hilarious that concept is....but it definitely taught me a lot about humility. The theme of my week was the ability to laugh at myself. I had to make myself comfortable to make the kids feel comfortable around me. I laughed with them at my inability to play sports and my inability to speak Czech, and tried to dive wholeheartedly into both weaknesses.

-I also got to teach street dance. Yes, an English speaking ballet/modern dancer trying to lead non-English speaking teenagers in hip-hop moves. What a ridiculously hilarious experience. Going into the week, I assumed there was going to be a professional street dancer on the team, and I quickly realized that everyone else assumed I was going to be the street dance expert. So my Dutch teammate Joyce and I quickly choreographed an awesome little number to some TobyMac's "No Ordinary Love," and the girls we taught it to seemed to love it. Joyce was so incredibly sweet, and kept telling me that I should star in "Save the Last Dance" (a movie about a ballet dancer who learns all these street moves at an inner city school).

-My heart was broken for Czech young people. I can't even describe how much these kids touched me. They are so unbelievably old at such a young age. There were 12, 13, 14 year olds that would smoke and drink alcohol on the sidelines of the fields as we played with them. A lot of them have this dark, hardened sense about them that you just don't see in mostAmerican teenagers. The girls are incredibly sexualized from a very young age. The first day we were out playing sports, a 12 year old girl showed up with cuts all over her arm. At first I thought they might be accidental, but the closer I looked, I realized the cuts formed a name, and it was obviously self-mutilation. Sometimes I just wanted to break down crying in the middle of a game of vollyball. I realized that our simple gospel presentations through our skits, testimonies, and actions would be the most that many of these kids would ever hear about God's love for them. There's just nothing for them here....there's such hopelessness. I think the concept that Jesus loved them and extended mercy to them was utterly foreign to these teenagers. As the week progressed, the Czech girls with whom I had begun to form friendships would ask me eagerly when we would be performing the drama for the night. I began to realize that some of the teenagers were more excited about seeing our skits than playing sports....some of them would come and sit on the sidelines the whole time, then gather with the other kids to watch our gospel presentation. I could see the longing for hope and truth in their eyes as they carefully watched simple skits that many American teenagers would just laugh at or shrug off. It was beautiful to be able to tell them my testimony through a translator on the last night we were there, speaking words of light into the darkness, proclaiming the love of God in my brokenness against the glorious splendor of the setting sun. I will never forget their faces and my desperate desire to see their lives transformed. We held an outdoor worship service on the Sunday morning after the camp week, and one of the teenagers from the camp who attended asked me if I was coming back next year to their village. I sadly told them that I wasn't, and she said in a sorrowful voice, "I wish you would come back. There is nothing like what you do here. No one tells us the things you have." It made me so sad and angry.....the fields are ripe for the harvest, and who will go? Who will tell that girl again that she is loved and beautiful and precious?

So pray for Jihlava. Pray for the struggling church there. Pray for Jakob, Katka, Tereza, Daniel, Eva, Domenika, Ana, Marketa, Taneka, Libor.....just a few of the kids that touched my heart this week. Pray for all the kids who might never again hear the truth of the gospel.

Alright, my hands and my brain are exhausted from typing. Thanks for allowing me to process my week in words. Now I need to go do some late night packing....yet again. I'm off to Krakow, Poland tomorrow afternoon with my fellow interns for a much-needed spiritual retreat until Monday.

AIA Camp Week

2008-07-29T00:14:00.019+02:00

As in Vienna, there are too many pictures....I will try to give you a small taste of my Athletes in Action week before I write about it....there's just too much for words.

Week 5 (and a preview of Weeks 6 and 7)!

2008-07-16T23:55:00.002+02:00

This is our Vacation Bible School week, so from 9:00-1:00 every morning, the interns get to lead some very adorable little kids. I don't think I've ever sang "I'm In The Lord's Army" so many times in my life. Apparently, songs that involve saluting, riding horses, marching, and making artillary noises with your hands are very appealing to small children. My hand-motion making skills from camp have suddenly come in handy! I'm also suddenly remembering how tiring it is to entertain and control preschool age kids! We've really had a great time with them, though.

Tuesday night was great....Jeremy loves Christmas, so for his birthday, we threw a surprise Christmas in July party. We decorated a small tree, listened to Christmas carols, and reminisced about our favorite Christmas traditions. Joanna whipped up a full Christmas dinner, with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, rolls, gravy, and some sort of yummy corn pudding. To top it all off, we had a homemade coconut birthday cake for dessert...it was the best cake I've ever eaten.

After Christmasing, we raced off to enjoy the Bohemia Jazz Festival for the second night in a row. Monday night, I was front and center to see John Scofield play (my friends and I got to be famous on the jumbotron a couple of times), and then Tuesday night, we went to see Victor Wooten, one of the best bass guitarists in the world. You can't beat listening to free live jazz as you're surrounded by gorgeous Prague architecture.

Life here is about to change yet again in a very big way. We will be leaving 6:00 AM this Saturday to work at sports camps in different villages in Prague. We are joining two teams of Dutch atheletes who work with a group called Athletes in Action, a sports ministry of Campus Crusade for Christ. Michael, Will, Lindsay and I will be serving in a village about two hours from Prague called Jihlava, while Hannah and Jeremy will be working in Pribram. We'll spend our days playing sports with children and teenagers, such as volleyball, basketball, soccer, and street dance (don't ask me what street dance is, because I'm not sure yet myself....but I'm excited!). Our team is highly non-athletic, but I think the most important element of this whole experience will just be loving the kids and hanging out with them, not our athletic abilities. I'm excited to work with young people again, and I can't wait to get to know Dutch Christians and see experience a taste of that culture through my teammates. Pray for our time away from the city to be fruitful and for our teams to be quickly unified across all cultural and linguistic boundaries.

So I'll be gone until next Sunday....then we have two days in Prague, and we leave that Wednesday morning for Krakow, Poland for the rest of the week. After Poland, we'll only have one week left here. Things are really speeding up and life as we know it here is changing. I'll be away from computers for the next week, so no more blogging for a while, but please keep me and my team in your thoughts and prayers.

P.S.....the best part of my day were these two letters. I truly have wonderful friends. One beautiful homemade one from my dear friend Sarah, and another letter signed with tons of encouraging messages from all my wonderful staff and CIT friends at New Life Camp. I miss you guys!

Thanks for all the love!

A Tale of Two Cities

2008-07-15T23:11:00.007+02:00

I gave you pictures, but no details on my trip to Vienna. I'm in the midst of a crazy week, but in what little time I have, I'll try and give you a quick runthrough. Also, let me please apologize....I have gotten so many kind Facebook messages from friends at home in the past week, and I just haven't replied to any of them...life has been a whirlwhind since returning this weekend. If you have not gotten a reply, I promise you aren't the only one!

Vienna was amazing. This was the one free weekend for the interns, so we were allowed to travel on our own, using our own resources. Five of us chose to go to Vienna and stay with some other World Harvest missionaries, the Hunter family. Brad, Stacy and their wonderful children graciously let us all stay in their beautiful apartment, and served as our tour guides for the whole trip. Brad led us around Vienna as we prayed for different parts of the city, and it was amazing to see the passion he and his wife have for reaching this city.

My favorite time of prayer was an individual one, inside St. Stephan's Cathedral (Stephansdom). You can see this incredible building on my previous picture- it absolutely took my breath away, inside and out. It was magnificently ornate, enormous, full of stunning architecture and sculpture.....and somewhere in all that beauty, my heart was pierced. The glory of God was reflected in this place in a way that touched me deeply. In the midst of crowds of tourists, I wondered into a quiet prayer room inside the cathedral, filled with people on their knees in between stately wooden pews, bowing torwards the alter and the crucifix, crossing themselves after dipping their hands in water as they came in and out. I joined them on my knees for a few moments, soaking in the stillness and the beauty. I looked across the faces bathed in colored light as the sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, wondering how many of them truly knew the love of the God reflected in the icons and the ceremonial ritual. My heart broke for the city, the way it has for Prague, knowing that these people have a deep thirst for love and transcendence that can only be satisfied with the living water of Jesus Christ.

Vienna is remarkably different from Prague, in ways that I'm not sure how to articulate. It seems a little more modern, more Western, more glamarous and wealthy, far more international, and much larger. Prague has a very Eastern European feel, heavily rooted in tradition and nationalistic Czech pride. It was good to see the differences, to take a step back from my time here, even if it was just for a weekend. It helped me to reflect on my time here and my thoughts about Prague, and to see some of the ways I've grown personally since arriving. Arriving in a new city, I felt excited to explore and find my way around, confident in navigating a metro system in yet anther language I don't speak....then I remembered the way I felt when I first set foot in Prague, helpless and confused, fearful and discouraged by my own incompetance. A mere month has transformed the way I look at myself and the world in so many small ways. I was excited to be walking in a new boldness, to feel independant and not helpless, to feel my fear replaced by a simple peace. God has shown Himself to be infinitely strong in my most crippling weaknesses.

The most striking thing I felt when I arrived in Vienna was the fact that I was not home. I was in another foreign culture, but I didn't know how the transportation system worked, I struggled to convert the currency in my head, I didn't know where to walk to down a street to find the best coffee shop or the closest grocery store, I couldn't even say basic phrases like "Excuse me" when I bumped into someone or "Thank you" to a server. I do know those things in Prague. Admittedly, pride in my level of city knowledge is like a child learning the alphabet and believing she has mastered Shakespeare......but it's something, no matter how small. I knew, with a sense of deep joy, that Prague was indeed my city. As our bus pulled back into Prague at the end of the weekend, my heart lept up as we zoomed past the familiar terra cotta rooftops.....I was back home. I walked into church that afternoon, out of the rain and the cold, warmed by the sight of people who have grown to feel like family. The benediction spoken out at the end of that service, adapted from Jeremiah 29, is still ringing in my ears:

"Thus says the Lord of hosts, God of Israel, to those He has called into Prague: Build yourselves houses and dwell in them; plant gardens and eat the fruit of them. Marry and have sons and daughters, increase in number there and do not decrease. Seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare."

Amen.

Vienna!

2008-07-13T22:54:00.016+02:00

I promise will write about our wonderful trip soon, but you can just enjoy a few pictures for now! I think you should be able to click on each one to make it full size....

Substantial Grace

2008-07-10T20:01:00.015+02:00

Tuesday was one of those days you are sure you'll laugh about later, but in the moment, laughter is furthest thing from your mind. I think it was the closest the group has come to a public emotional breakdown since we've gotten to Prague. To make a long story short, what we thought would be a simple trip to buy bus tickets turned into a several hour ordeal of being snubbed by various rude employees, waiting for half an hour in several wrong lines, and traveling to multiple ticket offices around the city, only to find that bus tickets to Vienna were sold out (that is, according to employees who don't want to bother with the hassle of working with someone who speaks English). Czech customer service can sometimes be culture clash at its worst. Train tickets were possible, though very expensive, and for a while, it looked like about only half the team could afford to go. Thinking about money is so stressful, and the combination of everyone being sick and sleep deprived served to escalate the emotions of the day. I was overwhelmed, but my day was redeemed when I spent some time alone up on the Stewarts' rooftop, finally taking a moment to breathe and allow the peace of God to wash over me.
I wish I could give you a panoramic view of what I saw up there, but this one angle is the best I can do.

The story does have a happy ending....the interns took Mark with us the next day, and after another hour long wait, we finally got bus tickets to Vienna! Five interns are headed out at 8:00 Friday morning, and we're coming back 8:00 Sunday morning.

Wednesday morning, I worked at Nadeje.....this time, a homeless man came up to me and said in broken English, "You are an angel, and when you die, I want you to go to God for me and tell him I did only good things." After thanking him as I told him I wasn't an angel, I asked him if He believed in God. When he replied yes, I explained, "I can't tell God that you did only good things. Only Jesus can take away the sins from your life." He sighed wistfully, "I know this Jesus, yes. I know Him in my head, but my heart, it is cold. I wish I could know with my heart." I said, "I will pray for your heart. God loves you, He really does." A smile broke across his face as he said "You are an angel, in secret. A hidden angel. God sent you to tell me He loves me."

Today I wondered alone around Prague most of the day. I tripped up two seperate staircases (completely fell all over the stairs in the midst of a multitude of people), slipped and fell as I walked in a store, and almost got hit by a tram...twice. Who made up that myth that dancers are graceful? This is why I shouldn't be let out alone too often.
In the midst of my wonderings, I went to several coffeeshops to read, and discovered my new favorite quote painted on a wall.

Maybe my amount of coffee today was a bit too substantial.... hmm

Prayer needs: Our trip to Vienna, that it will be a much-needed time of rest and relaxation... our physical health, that we will be well by the time we start teaching Vacation Bible School next week.....our team unity, as week four is known as the breaking point, where interns become quick to see the faults of others while overlooking our own, now that our "honeymoon" period here is over. Pray that we will be unified and show one another grace.... quick to listen, and slow to speak....quick to love, and slow to judge in anger.

I should be sleeping, not writing...

2008-07-07T23:48:00.011+02:00

I'm exhausted and about to fall asleep as I type this, so bear with me if it sounds like a five year old composed my thoughts....

On Sunday morning, Mark took the interns to a Czech-speaking Protestant church. He calls it "the Prague megachurch," which translates to roughly 200 congregants on a good day. Considering that it was Jan Hus Day, a national Czech holiday, about half the congregation was gone from the hotel conference room where the church meets. It was amazing to hear worship songs sung in Czech, and to listen to an entire sermon in another language. We were blessed to have two translators who sat behind us and whispered the sermon to us in English. After attending an English-speaking, predominately expatriate church body for the past few weeks, it was wonderful to visit a thriving church that is filled with Czechs.

Sunday afternoon, back at Faith Community Church, we suddenly found ourselves scrambling to find room for people to sit when our small sanctuary became packed with a visiting group of 41 American high school girls. This might not sound like a large number, but in our tiny building, this meant that people were sitting on the stairs to the entrance and standing along the sides of the room. The regular pastor and his family just left for the United States, so Zach was preaching his first sermon of the summer, and as God's sense of humor would have it, 41 girls came in on the day he had to preach on 1 Corinthians 14 (which includes touchy topics such as prophecy, tongues, and of course, women being silent in the church). I thought this was pretty hilarious divine timing.

Monday, we had our last Czech lesson with our wonderful teacher Lenka. This lesson also included some delicious dessert....about a week ago, Jeremy and Lenka made a bet on a soccer game, and Jeremy lost, so he gave Lenka a homemade apple pie! We have all enjoyed these lessons so much, and I know we will miss them immensely. Even just the knowledge of basic phrases has enhanced my time here so greatly, and I wish I knew much more. If God chooses to lead me back here, I know that I absolutely want to learn the language if I have the oportunity.

After language lessons, Joanna took us to do one of the things she loves in Prague...pottery class! Lindsay, Hannah, Will and I tried our hand at pottery, all with varying degrees of success. Joanna kindly referred to my mishapen clay box as "cool and funky," but I think this was possibly a tactful way of saying "the ugliest creation ever formed by human hands." Despite my utter lack of talent, I did have a great time. The lumpy blob of a box you see in the picture is what I painstakingly made in an hour and a half, while the lovely flower candle holder is what Joanna whipped out in about fifteen minutes....sad, I know.

Monday ended with dinner and Vacation Bible School preperations at the Syvertsons (have I mentioned that Chris Syvertson runs the Czech Inn, which is rated as one of the top hostels in Europe?) The Syvertsons have this incredible view from their terrace, which happens to overlook the gigantic Prague "baby tower" (it has these odd, sculpted metal babies crawling up the side of it), so I decided it was a good photo opportunity. What you might not be able to see is the dangerous, gigantic drop-off into space behind the fence I was sitting on....ahh, the price of fun pictures.

Please pray for our health over here, as sickness seems to be striking us once again....at the moment, I think Mark, Jason, Lindsay, Hannah, Jeremy, Mike and I are all sick, and we would like this to be as short-lived as possible!

4th on the 5th!

2008-07-05T22:38:00.009+02:00

So, since July 4^th is just another day here, we decided to celebrate spend the night cruising down the river on a large boat. Prague at night looks like something straight out of a charming European fairy tale. The boat was ridiculously crowded and loud, but it was a fun, crazy, once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Today was absolutely delightful. Lots of people from our church came over for a big 4^th of July cookout at the Stewarts. Here's my confession for the day: I gave in to utter gluttony...who can resist an abundant spread of delicious American food? The other two female interns and I got there about two hours early to help prepare food, which we really enjoyed doing (my primary contributions were Peach Shortbread, forming a mountain of hamburger patties for an hour, and some badly chopped cabbage...my culinary skills need some work). We had hamburgers, hot dogs, pork barbecue (which I can more fully appreciate after toting the actual pork shoulder through the streets of Prague), coleslaw, and fresh peach shortbread....YUM. Did I mention that Joanna baked all of the hot dog and hamburger buns from scratch? It was the most impressive thing I've ever seen, or tasted for that matter. The whole cookout lasted from about 2:00 to 8:00...time flies when you're spending an afternoon with wonderful people and eating amazing food.

Several people at the cookout today asked me how my time had been here....and all I could say was that I couldn't believe how little time I have left. Everything is speeding by in a beautiful blur of challenge, adventure, and joy. I'm trying to soak it all in the best I know how. I'm growing and changing every minute, learning something in every new day, loving this place and these people in increasing measure with every passing hour.

For those of you who pray....Pray that our whole intern team would continue to meet new people, and to have quality time to invest in the relationships we have begun here. Also, pray that I would continue to have my eyes opened to see God's direction for the next step in my life after this summer, particularly as it relates to being on the mission field. I am continually realizing how much I need to surrender all my best laid plans for my future. I've never planned any of the best things that have happened in my life.....I have a feeling that's never going to change. This summer is challenging all my preconceived notions and fears about my life and my calling, and I've never been so thankful to have the narrow walls of my heart and mind exploded and transformed.

A King and a Kingdom

2008-07-04T14:35:00.013+02:00

I just put little Sasha to bed for a nap (I sang him a very long, improvised song about Frog and Toad), and now I'm watching "Once." If you haven't watched it....go do it. I've been listening to the soundtrack almost every day I've been here- it just feels so suited for the spirit of Prague. You hear a song from the movie in almost every restaurant or store you go in here.

Happy 4th of July to those of you reading in America! It's interesting to not be in there on Independence Day, but it makes me think of one of my favorite Derek Webb songs:

Who's your brother, who's your sister
You just walked passed him
I think you missed her
As we're all migrating to the place where our Father lives
'Cause we married in to a family of immigrants

My first allegiance is not to a flag, a country, or a man
My first allegiance is not to democracy or blood
It's to a King & a kingdom

I am thankful for the ways my eyes are being opened to His kingdom around the world, that crosses and transcends all cultural and political boundaries. I am thankful to be in the Czech Republic today, to know that I love my country and and that I love this one, too.

Here's a few things for you today:

First, a picture of the view from my dining room, because it is beautiful. On the table is our first attempt at hospitality, and our first semi-fancy meal (cooking has not been a strong suit since coming here). We had a new friend over for dinner, who talked to us about the struggles of being a woman in the Czech workforce.
Czech culture can be very oppressive to women in a way you don't see in America- women have no recourse to object to sexual abuse or harrassment, and if they try to say something, they are often told it is their fault. If a woman goes to the police to say she is raped, there's a strong possibility she'll just be ignored. It's perfectly acceptable and common for a boss to make advances towards his employee, and for a married man to have a mistress. It makes me really angry, and makes me thankful for the ability women have to stand up to harassment in America, difficult though it may be.

Second....
This is a quote from Mother Theresa I've been thinking a lot about recently, especially as I worked in the homeless shelter, about what it means to live the Gospel:

"And we read that in the Gospel very clearly--love as I have loved you--as I love you--as the Father has loved me, I love you--and the harder the Father loved him, he gave him to us, and how much we love one another, we, too, must give each other until it hurts. It is not enough for us to say: I love God, but I do not love my neighbor. St. John says you are a liar if you say you love God, and you don't love your neighbor. How can you love God whom you do not see, if you do not love your neighbor whom you see, whom you touch, with whom you live. And so this is very important for us to realize that love, to be true, has to hurt. It hurt Jesus to love us, it hurt him. And to make sure we remember his great love he made himself the bread of life to satisfy our hunger for his love. Our hunger for God, because we have been created for that love. We have been created in his image. We have been created to love and be loved, and then he has become man to make it possible for us to love as he loved us. He makes himself the hungry one--the naked one--the homeless one--the sick one--the one in prison--the lonely one--the unwanted one--and he says: You did it to me. Hunger for our love, this is the hunger of our poor people. This is the hunger that you and I must find, it may be in our own home."

I long to serve the kingdom with the love of my King....

I want...I need.... to learn how to love, to truly love.

Fun, Food, and Flattery

2008-07-02T23:17:00.014+02:00

How is it July already?! Time needs to slow down....

Tuesday morning, Mark took us to Prague 13, a very different neighborhood than the one we live in. We learned that a large percentage of Czechs live in “panelaks,” pre-fabricated concrete high rise buildings that are a product of Communism. It's so different to see a neighborhood filled with these industrial looking high rise buildings, compared with the quaint little part of town where we live.

Yesterday afternoon, the girls got to go out to our favorite cafe with Sonia, a Russian girl that we just met this past Sunday who studies at the university in Prague (that's the three of us with her in the picture).It was really interesting to hear her talk about her Greek Orthodox religious background, and how different that was from her experience visiting our church here in Prague for the first time. She explained how strange it was to see women wearing pants, to see women without their heads covered, to sing worship songs and hear a sermon in English. She also had an interesting perspective on America, based on her love of American television shows. She said that the typical Russian idea of America is what they see on shows like “Desperate Housewives” and “Friends”....that we're basically all wealthy and independent and lead dramatic lives. As she put it, “We think everyone in America has a pretty, two story house, right next to one that looks just like it, with a green lawn all around it and a fence and two or three kids and they're all very happy and rich.” We explained that our lives were definitely nothing like that version of the American dream!

Last night was amazing. For Family Night, Joanna fixed an Indian feast. It was so incredible, and the girls even got to help cook, which was exciting. I need all the cooking practice I can get, seriously. Then for dessert, she made chai-infused syrup which we poured over vanilla ice cream- best dessert ever. After dinner, we all went out to see a guy from our church playing in his band at a local music club. Get this: it's a Czech reggae band, called “Afro-disiac” (I felt the need to hyphenate to accentuate the word pun). And yes, please mull over the phrase “Czech reggae band.” This is what happens when Jamaica meets Prague. Anyway, the band was really good, and we all had an awesome time listening to them jam. We went to see the band with our new friend Lucie, a beautifully sophisticated Czech girl who spent her teenage years in Canada. She offered to drive the girls in a car, and it was such a wild experience driving down the streets of Prague! For a few minutes, I honestly felt like I was back in America (minus the crazy narrow cobblestone streets). After several weeks of public transportation and walking everywhere, I totally associated being in a car with being in the States, and it felt incredibly strange. Lucie is a fast driver, and I could imagine for a moment that I was in one of the Jason Bourne movies, recklessly speeding past shimmering castles through a gorgeous European city in a high speed pursuit. Ahh, the good life.

My late night killed me (as I knew it would), because I got up at 7:00 to go work at Nadeje, the homeless shelter. Thanks to espresso and the grace of God, I stayed awake, and actually had a really good morning. A lot of the homeless people were quite friendly, and several even tried to speak English with me. One asked me where I was from in America, and kept saying “No or Soo?” After about 10 times, I realized he meant North or South, and of course, I proudly said the South. I got three different people who told me I spoke good Czech, and that was exciting, even if they were just being nice. I would point to myself and say “Spatne cesky!” (which could mean that I speak bad Czech or possibly that I'm a bad Czech person, I suppose, but lets hope they took it the first way). One man who spoke broken English told me he had a dream to live in Las Vegas and work at a casino. Another man who could manage a few words in English said as I gave him his food, “You have most beautiful smile. So beautiful.” About an hour later, he came back and looked at me, sighing as he shook his head and said, “Your smile...really, most beautiful I ever see in whole life.” They know how to dish out the compliments, let me tell you. I really do have to use my smile a lot at Nadeje, because it's the only way I know how to communicate sometimes. So then this afternoon, I was buying food at a Vietnamese grocery store, and when the cashier realized I didn't speak Czech, he started talking about me in Czech (I guess he thought I wouldn't understand anything) and I caught the words, “Heska americanka” (pretty american girl).

I also got TWO letters from friends in one day.

Apparently, I'm a big hit in Prague today.

My Sunday in Pictures

2008-06-30T23:51:00.027+02:00

Lindsay and Me

The Prague Zoo...7th best in the world!

Faith Community Church

Hanging out after church....

(guys are not so great at simultaneously posing for pictures)

Zach
and
Jason

(girls pose beautifully, of course!)

Lucie and Dot

Castles and Contemplation

2008-06-30T00:44:00.007+02:00

Here's one of the many nice perks about Prague: amazing castles. Saturday, five of the interns and Jason, our friend from church who has a ministry working in hostels, went to Karljstien. It's a lovely old castle about an hour outside of the city. We took a train to get there, which was probably the sketchiest train I've ever seen, but we had a great ride through the countryside. We hiked up a long hill lined with souvenir shops, all of which looked like a little Swedish village. The castle itself was gorgeous and pretty architecturally interesting, but the tour guide's lengthy descriptions in heavily accented English were not so exciting. We were sleepily leaning against castle walls as she talked...so much for our attempts to be culturally sensitive and engaged! We tried, but when you're running on limited sleep, what can you do? We were starving after the tour, so we hiked down to the souvenir village and ate at a really delicious Czech restaurant. I ate a very traditional Czech meal of pork, sauerkraut, and a huge potato pancake. Most Czech food tastes kind of disgustingly heavy, but this was actually delicious. But the best culinary delight came from a street vendor, when we ate a traditional Czech dessert called “turtlenik" (I probably just butchered that spelling). It's a large, thick, hallow tube of fried dough, covered in cinnamon sugar and pecans. The vendor we bought them from spread Nutella on them (YUM), but Jason and Will held out for a different vendor that sold them straight off the roasting rack, melt-in-your mouth warm, which was even more incredible. Seriously, Czech desserts need to migrate to the States.

My heart is already starting to get too attached here. We had a Culture Night at Jason's flat on Thursday night, where we discussed life as Christian expatriates, and watched a foreign film about a French exchange student trying to adapt to life in Spain. As we watched the end, the guy cried as he walked the streets of his homeland again after his travels, realizing he was suddenly a stranger in his own land. I felt a sudden, deep sadness as I traveled home to my flat that night, wondering if that will be me in a couple of months, wondering if I will have to strength to return. I'm not sure I will know what it means to be home after this summer...and I'm actually grateful for that uncertainty, to shake me out of comfortability and break my boundaries of viewing the world. I don't know what the future holds, but I do have great peace and hopeful anticipation.

I'm sitting in my flat with four other interns as I write this (on Saturday night, though I'll be posting it later). We're all listening to sad songs and watching pictures of our first two weeks here and talking about how much we'll all miss this whole experience when it's gone (sound a bit ridiculous and depressing, but true)! And it's only been two weeks....

Rollerblading in Rainstorms

2008-06-26T13:18:00.003+02:00

Last night, Jeremy, Lindsay and I all made plans to go rollerblading with our Czech friend Lenka and her friend, Cameron. This was probably the craziest adventure I have had since coming to Prague. To begin with, we're riding the trams out to where we're supposed to meet her, and it took us about fifteen stops away from our metro stop (this is REALLY far). We started wondering if we were even in Prague anymore! Everything is starting to look like countryside, except for these random industrial buildings. We finally arrive, to this large sports complex where we rented our skates. Now, I used to rollerblade back in high school, but it's been quite some time. I assumed it was like riding a bike, so my muscles would magically remember...but I was sadly mistaken. While Jeremy zoomed along with our new friends (who are rollerblading pros), Lindsay and I slowly stumbled and wobbled our way up hills and zoomed without any control down into valleys. My first fall occurred within 100 feet of the building, and it only got worse from there. We keep skating, without any idea where we're going, through large fields of grass towards an ominously dark sky. The wind starts blowing and whipping the trees as we travel, and suddenly it begins to rain. Just in the nick of time, we skate into a little trailside food shelter, when the worst thunderstorm of all time begins. Hurricane winds and torrential rains....even under the shelter, we're completely drenched, and standing helpless and shivering in our skates in deep pools of water, crowded under a tiny roof with a billion other soaked skaters. All we could do was laugh.

Finally, the rain lets up a little bit, and we start to skate back, not knowing if the storm will worsen. Now, the rain is still pouring, so here we are, rollerblading through the Czech countryside as sheets of rain blind our eyes while completely soaking through our clothes. Gigantic peels of thunder are sounding overhead as bolts of lightening blaze through the sky., and we had to weave around the dozens of tree branches that had fallen all over the slick trail. We were thankful not to get electrocuted, considering the amount of trees we had to skate underneath. I think I fell a total of six times, and all of them were pretty brutal wipeouts, some on pavement and others on pools of water and dirt. I have two gashes down my arms today, and a huge one on my knee....probably some internal bruising, too. By the time we returned to the sports complex, I was covered in mud, completely drenched, and blood was running down my legs and my arms. The Czech lady at the desk ran for a first aid kit and tried to bandage me up, but my skin was so wet that nothing would stick to my wounds.

This whole thing probably sounds pretty miserable (and parts of it were), but honestly, all I could do was laugh most of the time. It's one of those situations that was so dangerous and crazy and horrible that all you can do is laugh or cry. Lenka kept apologizing, and we just laughed and told her it would make a great memory. I almost wish I had a picture of us after that night, because we all looked so ridiculously terrible. We had planned to go out and watch a big soccer match in the Old Town Square, but the three of us decided that we didn't want to be seen by other human beings after that! What a night....we've decided to create a new Czech sport called "Extreme Waterblading," which must involve lightening, mud, rain, and rollerblades.

Human Nature, Scenic Nature, Au Naturale

2008-06-25T11:59:00.010+02:00

Tuesday felt like a long day, but it sure was a good one. Early in the morning, we traveled to meet a couple of guys in a prayer room in the city. One of the them was a Czech man who lived with his family many years in America, before being called to come back to Prague to share the gospel. He and the other man explained to us in great detail the cultural and political history of the Czech Republic that has shaped the current spiritual climate, which was fascinating for us to hear. The Czech people have a long history of having their freedoms and cultural traditions obliterated by domineering foreigners (from the Hapsburgs to Nazis to Communism), which explains their fierce nationalistic pride today. Distrust of religious institutions is a very entrenched element of this nationalism, which was worsened when misguided American missionaries swarmed into Prague after the fall of Communism in 1989 and tried to draw the people into the organized, programmatic, Americanized church. Naturally, this approach made Christianity appear to be like the culturally destructive forces of Communism in the eyes of the wary Czech people, and they rejected it.

In terms of hearing the actual gospel message, my generation in the Czech Republic has had about the same opportunity as people in many third-world countries. It would be very strange for someone my age to have read a Bible in their lifetime. Though hard work is being done on a translation, as of now there is still not a good modern translation of the Bible into the Czech language. The men we talked to work with the man doing the translation, who has been working on it for over fifteen years. When he recently finished the New Testament, he released it and it instantly hit top three of the Czech best-seller list. Though it is currently estimated that less that .5% of Czechs profess faith in Christ, it is clear that there is a deep spiritual hunger here for meaning and truth in a postmodern world.

So anyway, back to the story of my day. We went with these guys to a tract of land they have purchased inside a large, beautifully wooded wilderness preserve in Prague, where they are attempting to transform old farm buildings from the late 1700's into a spiritual retreat center. I think it will be a wonderful thing to have in this city. We walked around the location praying, and then our intern team helped to clear land around the buildings by chopping/hauling wood and bushwacking overgrown weeds/brambles. I think I have earned a far greater respect for the centuries of people who cut their firewood by hand.

While inside this wilderness-park, we also took a steep hike up into the forest and from the top we overlooked the city and all these majestically beautifully mountains. It felt so good to be out in nature, breathing clear air, climbing rocks, hiking a trail. It was good to have a day of physical exhaustion after feeling so much social exhaustion at the end of each day. Being in the city has helped me to realize that I am most definitely a mountain girl at heart. I decided that if God ever calls me to live in a city, I want to be close to somewhere like this, where I can get out and enjoy nature.

After all this strenuous hiking and land-clearing, we took a trip to the local swimming pool. Oh my, the culture shock...let me take a deep breath and suppress some gag reflexes as I recount this highly cross-cultural adventure. So this pool is packed, but almost no one is swimming. Instead, there are dozens of people laying around on the grass surrounding the pool (which we discovered was ice cold, as we froze trying to swim in it). If anyone has ever been to a European swimming pool, you will understand what I mean when I say that American swim attire suddenly seems highly conservative and modest to me now. In Europe, when you go to the pool or the beach, swimsuits are VERY optional, on men and women, on young and old, on the fit and the extremely not fit.

Some people are never meant to be naked in public. Hmm, make that most people. Wait, pretty much all people. I almost threw up a couple of times.

Enough about poolside culture-shock. Let's not relive that memory of mass public nudity anymore. Tuesday nights are Family Night, which means that all the interns and a couple of people on the team here come to the Stewarts' house for a big family dinner and a night of games. It's awesome. Tonight was Taco night (yum) and we had a surprise birthday party for our fellow intern Will (meaning we got Joanna's Mississippi Mud Cake...double yum). It's funny to have a 21^st birthday in a country where the age 21 has none of the American associations. People pretty much drink straight from infancy here. Just kidding...but I mean, almost. I found out today that you can take a pitcher into any pub, and they'll fill it up for you to go. You'll also find beer on tap at your neighborhood McDonald's, right beside the Coca-Cola. There would be a national revolution if American alcohol restrictions were instituted here!

A Strand in a Tapestry

2008-06-23T08:58:00.001+02:00

Sundays are always great here. I am assured of two consistent staples: delicious brunch at the Stewarts', and a great afternoon church service. By the end of the week here, I really crave worship and the teaching of the Word. This Sunday, we had a long, beautiful reading of Anglican liturgical prayers before the sermon. After church, pretty much the whole congregation goes out to have dinner every Sunday at a nice outdoor garden where they sell really tasty, fresh cooked sausages for about two dollars. Sausage is definitely the fast food of choice here....kind of the Czech equivalent to American hotdogs or hamburgers. Wherever you order them in the city, you typically get a gigantic sausage (probably three times the size of an American hotdog), along with two small pieces of wheat bread (no buns), and some yummy mustard sauce to dip your sausage in (no one uses ketchup, and if you do want ketchup, you have to pay extra).

p.s. - that picture is not our church...but it's pretty awesome.

Sunday was also great because of time with new friends. Our Czech teacher ate brunch with us, and told us stories of her childhood living in a Communist country....of how the ability to buy basic things like food and books were so limited, and all their travel was very restricted. They grew up learning Russian and being taught about how amazing Russia was, while being taught that America was the enemy. I often forget how recently Communism ended here, so it was sobering to understand that a woman not much older than all of us grew up under Communist restrictions. She also took us out for a long walk in a Prague park, which was beautiful. The city is great, but I need some nature every now and then!

After church and dinner, most of the interns went with a couple of Czech girls we met at church to Sir Toby's, a beautiful hostel in the city. Hostels are great places to meet people, because so many people are traveling through and are interested in talking to new people. We went down to the hostel pub to try to meet people in the crowd watching the soccer game (“futbol” is huge here). We ended up sitting down beside two nice English speaking guys in their late twenties, one from Canada and one from America (Raleigh, NC, surprisingly!) Both guys had quit their jobs back home and had been traveling (separately) around Europe for months. They regaled us with amazing tales of their adventures in Amsterdam, Switzerland, Egypt, Istanbul, Croatia, Germany, France...the list goes on and on. I decided that when I go back to the States, I should probably find a job that makes tons of money, then quit and travel around the world. Sounds like a great career path to me...yep, my life calling, it's decided. Just kidding, but let me tell you what, being here definitely makes me wish I could travel more.

It's difficult meeting lots of people like these two random guys tonight, knowing you will probably never see them again, and hoping that your one interaction was somehow meaningful in their life. I've always been scared to care about people wholeheartedly and then watch them slip out of my life. In watching my college friends move on this year, I wondered how big of a difference those couple of years would make in our lives in the long run, and I'll always remember what my friend Paul told me: that every friendship, every opportunity to show love, every opportunity to learn something new from someone else is important, no matter how brief and temporary. What a shame it would be to never start a conversation with someone you might only see once, simply because you knew there could be no lasting friendship to come out of it. What a shame to never invest in a person's life, just because that friendship might only last a couple of hours, a couple of weeks, a couple of months, a couple of years. What a shame to never care deeply because you are afraid of the pain of letting go. All things go, all things die, new things are born in the shadow of what has passed away- this is the consistent ebb and flow of joy and sorrow in all of nature. In the grand scheme of eternity, I am a strand that is woven into the tapestry of someone else's life, and my brief engagement in their life experience can be a small, integral part of a larger picture I'll never see here. Every person is valuable, every person is made in the image of an incredible God, every person reveals to me a different facet of His glory....and I never want to miss that in anyone.

Hope and Beauty

2008-06-21T20:56:00.012+02:00

Ahh, Thursday was amazing. Probably my best day thus far. Thursday mornings are the one “protected” free time for interns, meant to be used as a spiritual retreat and a time for rest. I got to sleep in for the first time since coming here, and then I went to a little sidewalk cafe for a couple of hours where I finally had time to journal and pray and think (all while drinking espresso and eating pastry, of course). It was nice to have some alone time...the introvert in me needs it.

Then during the afternoon, we took a gorgeous two hour walk along the heights of Prague. We started at an old Jesuit (or maybe it was Franciscan?) monastery/brewery, and then walked through over a mile of orchards and a rose garden, all overlooking the expansive, majestic city of Prague. I had my breath taken away so many times!

The female interns had a girls night at Joanna's, and she fixed us a lovely dinner of herbed pasta, fresh tomatoes, and goat cheese, which we ate out on the terrace as the sun went down over the beautiful old buildings and the sky turned purple. We sat talking late into the night and had some wonderful fellowship (and great pedicures)! This is a picture of the girls having some delicious European ice cream bars in the rose garden.

Friday, Hannah and I spent most of our day at Nadaje, the homeless shelter. Nadaje means “Hope” in Czech. It was hard, but really rewarding. After spending so many days looking at all the beauty in the city, it was eye-opening to see the other side....the poverty and the pain. The director explained to us that the homeless aren't just a bunch of drunk old men (though there are some of those).....there are young people who have addictions or addicted family members, former prisoners who are blacklisted from getting any work, and elderly people whose families have abandoned them. We brought food to them as they sat down at tables, gave them hot cups of tea, and washed dishes. Working with the homeless is definitely a crash course in Czech- they all want to talk to you, and I would have to shrug my shoulders and say, “Nerozumim!” (I don't understand). They would look at me with confusion in their eyes and then I would point to myself and say, “American, American” (Amer-ee-chan). At this, some would roll their eyes and grunt and mumble...Americans are not regarded too highly here. Some would smile and say with a heavy accent, “Thank you very much” or “Good bye!” A couple of the homeless men kept pointing to me and Hannah and saying something to us, and finally I pulled in the young director, Adam, who spoke a little broken English. He asked them in Czech what they were saying, and translated back to me “They say.. that you and your friend are...beauty. Great beauty.” I laughed and said “Dekuju” (thank you).

My fellow adventurers:

Will, Jeremy, Lindsay, me, Hannah, Michael

Why I Dislike the Number Four

2008-06-19T15:17:00.000+02:00

I thought I would try to post a few more pictures this time around....

This is the market we bought fruit at a couple of days ago (called a “potraviny”) Looks delicious, huh?

This is all of the interns (minus me) at the metro station we frequent the most, Hradcanska. In the middle is our friend and language teacher, Lenka.
She is a fun young Czech woman who makes us laugh constantly through our language lessons (mostly at ourselves). We have discovered the absolute worst thing to try to say in Czech (well, thus far). Are you ready? It's the number four. Four is “ctyri” (with little marks and squiggles over it I can't type). This may look easy to say, but in Czech, none of those letters make the same sounds they would in English. The closest phonetically I can come to sounding it out is to say something that sounds like “sh-tear-gee.” (the letter "r" is horrible. you have to roll the r and then make a sound kind of like a "j") After discovering how incapable we were of saying “four,” Lenka decided to make us say “one hundred forty-four” which was far worse and more hilarious. We walked down the streets that afternoon all pronouncing the number, and realized how funny we must sound to the Czech people. I can't imagine someone walking down the streets in America saying the number “forty-four” in a horrible broken accent over and over again!

This is my new best friend Sasha. I got to babysit him yesterday and we had fun playing a game I invented called “Kick the Bottlecap On the Sidewalk" (my ingenuity is amazing). He also told me lots of stories about Frog and Toad (one of my favorite childhood books). We had several elderly men stop to talk to him, and I just smiled and nodded because I had no idea what they were saying past the normal greeting of “dobry den!”

I should note that people here never stop and smile at you. People sometimes give me very strange looks when I smile as I pass them on the street. You rarely see people laughing or joking or being loud on the street. However, this is an extremely dog-friendly culture, and I've heard that if you walk a dog around, you will make tons of friends. People just stop and talk to dogs like people would stop and talk to a child or a baby in America. There are so many people with dogs here- most dogs don't wear leashes, and you're totally allowed to take them on the tram or the metro.

I asked Lenka yesterday what Czechs think about Americans. She laughed and said “True?” I answered, “Yes, true! You can be honest.” She said hesitantly, “Well...we think they are a little stupid. And very loud.”

Truer words were never spoken!

Dobry Den!

2008-06-17T23:30:00.000+02:00

As the Beatles would say, “It's getting better all the time!” Every day here I am starting to feel more at home, and every day has presented new challenges and joys. We had our first Czech language lesson Monday, which was very enjoyable and difficult! We have a wonderful Czech teacher, but I'm sure she was dying with laughter at most of our feeble attempts to speak. The words I use the most so far are: “prosim” (please), “dekuju” (thank you),” and my favorite, “dobry den” (hello!). Everything, and I mean everything, is written in Czech here. We had our first lesson in grocery shopping today, so we wouldn't starve this summer because of being unable to read what we were buying! There are also several fresh markets with wonderful fresh fruit and vegetables, which is where I plan to do much of my shopping...along with the local bakeries and coffee shops, of course!

The fact that everything is in Czech makes learning my way around the city somewhat tricky, as I can barely pronounce and read the road signs, tram stops, and metro stations....and we use public transportation every day here. We're getting the hang of it pretty quickly though: the female interns walked back to our flat by ourselves last night from the metro, which is a huge step. From the first night we were here, our missionary leaders told us to be carefully watching where we were walking and riding, so that we could find our own way around the city. I think one of the most intimidating obstacles for me has been the expectation of independence, but it's so essential to what we do here, and it's really helping me grow individually. Our leaders were right....it's getting easier every day to get our bearings in the city and understand the transportation.

Speaking of leaders, Mark and Joanna Stewart are the young missionary couple who lead our internship, and they are incredible. During this week of orientation, we've been going over to their house every morning for breakfast and many suppers as well. Joanna is a world class creative cook- I've never had such delicious food! They also have a little two year old son, Sasha, who we all adore. Playing with him brings so much happiness to my day! Spending so much time at the Stewarts' home has really made us feel like we're a part of family here, which is wonderful. We're so busy right now, and all very tired, but I'm enjoying it a lot.

If anyone ever gets the urge to write a letter (which I hope you might!) here you go:

Kristi Townsend
c/o Stewarts

V.P. Ckalova 10

160 00 Praha 6

Czech Republic

It's almost midnight here....so I must get to bed. It's strange to think that it's almost 6:00 PM in the States right now....

Prague at last!

2008-06-16T09:05:00.000+02:00

MY NEW HOME ----->>

Yes, I am here in Prague!

First of all....I wish I could post a million pictures. Every minute here is a picture. I've already taken over 300. I promise they will be on Facebook when I return to America.

I can't believe I'm actually here. Even after a couple of days, I'm still pinching myself to see if I'll wake up from all of this. A lot has happened in the past 48 hours, but let me back up. Our flight left Philadelphia at 6:00 (well, actually 7:00 after an hour of sitting in the plane lineup). The flight took about seven hours, but it felt like an eternity. Lots of meals, snacks, and drinks, but sleeping was almost impossible. When light peaked in through the windows and they started to serve breakfast, we all looked at each other with disbelief and frustration that we still hadn't slept. We mostly all sat together, but I was also beside an interesting old man from India who told me why he hated America, but loved President Bush. It was quite a strange combination! Because of the time difference, we landed in Frankfurt, Germany at about 8:00 Saturday morning(middle of the night back in America), and had a three hour layover, which was a nice length of time, because our first flight came in really late, and it took us an eternity just to get through the maze-like German airport and get to our gate. We then had a forty minute flight to Prague, in a much smaller, older plane, where we all sat by ourselves (which was good, because we had time to think and pray before landing). The first thing we saw in the airport after we got off the plane was a pub, so we knew we were in the Czech Republic!

Our missionary leaders, Mark and Joanna Stewart, picked us up and we all took taxis back to our separate apartments (or “flats” as they call them here). The girl interns have a very big, slightly older apartment close to the Stewarts, and the boy interns have a fancy new apartment that's further into town. We all love our flats, which is great. So by this point, we were all reeling....none of us had slept in quite a long time, we hadn't showered and we all smelled really bad in this point in our clothes from Friday morning. We were basically the cast of Night of the Living Dead. But of course, the best cure for jet lag is to not sleep...so to ensure that we didn't sleep, we had to hit the ground running. We unloaded our bags in the apartments, and immediately began touring the major tourist sights of Prague. The Stewarts practically had to drag us along the streets, we were all so exhausted. We saw the famous castle, walked across the Charles Bridge, and walked the streets of Old Town, before finally getting to bed around 11:00. It was such an overwhelming experience....and I think nothing was like anything any of us expected.

To top it off, not only was I tired, but also very sick. I had completely lost my voice at this point, which has been a real lesson in humility. We talked a lot at WHM orientation about cross-cultural communication...and its been interesting feeling like I can't use my typical conversation strategies and humor to break the ice with people, because I'm embarrassed about the sound of my voice. I think all of the interns (especially myself) have been surprised at how much our pride and selfishness has come out through being in an unfamiliar country. From the moment I got here, I suddenly realized “This whole thing is not about me, and I always subconsciously believed it was before.” As someone at WHM said, “As interns, you are boarding a train that's already left the station....you're running after a moving car.” That's pretty much what it felt like as we arrived, realizing that we were just a small part of everything that was already happening with the missions team that is already here working. It's very humbling.

Though last night's whirlwind experience was somewhat miserably overwhelming, but Sunday was dramatically better. We got a lot of sleep, ate a delicious brunch out on the Stewarts beautiful balcony that has an amazing view (oh, and Joanna is an incredible cook). We toured more of Old Town today (lots of walking and tram riding), toured the Czech Inn (it's the most beautiful, contemporary hostel, run by members of the team- look it up online), and attended our first service at the church here. It's small and intimate and reminds me of Spring Garden, my church in Greensboro. The church services here are at 4:30 in the afternoon, which was an interesting switch. After church, we went over to the Davis family house, (a couple who are another part of the WHM team here- Phil pastors the church plant) where we had an incredible cookout and all the interns got to fellowship with the whole Prague team.

There's so much more I wish I could say, but I have a busy day ahead of me. I'm about to begin my first Czech language lesson. For right now, I will just ask for prayer....for courage, because I'm scared of getting lost when we have to be independent in the town (everything is written in Czech and it all looks the same to me right now, but I'm trying to learn tram/metro stops and lines quickly). For boldness in meeting new people and in pursuing relational ministry. For energy, because our days are full and I'm still getting over my sickness. Most of all, that I will be filled with the love of Christ that casts out fear and doubt and insecurity in a strange new environment. Things are not what I expected, but they are wonderful.

Almost there...

2008-06-13T02:55:00.000+02:00

Phew, it's been a crazy few days! Traveling in NYC pretty much wiped me out. I had a lovely time last night staying with my fellow intern Lindsay and her wonderful family. We are now in Philadelphia, and spent most of the day orienteering (yep, I think I just made up that word) at WHM headquarters. They had incredible food for us (true Philly hoagies, mmm) and the atmosphere there was really wonderful and supportive. Our whole Prague team was finally united, which was exciting, and we got to meet some London interns as well. Tonight, Lindsay and I are in a lovely little house in Philly, enjoying our last night in America! I think our whole team is kind of in shock that we are leaving tomorrow. We head to the airport at 2:00, and our plane departs at 6:00, we'll fly straight to Frankfurt, Germany, and then we'll have a layover for several hours there. If all goes according to plan, we should arrive in Prague by early afternoon (early morning in the U.S.). Yay!
Please pray for safe, smooth travels, good bonding time, and good health....I am unfortunately rather sick as of right now, and my voice is fading fast to a horrible croaking whisper. Even if I can't speak the language, I would at least like to be able to speak once I get to Prague! I suppose being mute for a while would give me an interesting/disastrous crash course in cross-cultural communication...but I'm hoping it doesn't come to that!

Pursuing the Road Before Me

2008-06-09T11:19:00.000+02:00

Okay, inaugural post! Here goes...

I suppose it's rather typical of me that I'm writing this at 2:00 AM, the night before I leave. I don't know when I'll have time again on the road this week to get to a computer, so I thought "Why not type instead of packing?" Maybe not the smartest plan...

Anyway....The purpose of this blog is to keep my friends and family involved with what I'm doing in the Czech Republic this summer. From June 12-August 12, I will be serving as an intern with World Harvest Mission in Prague, working with full-time missionaries alongside a team of five other summer interns. I will try to post updates, prayer requests, and pictures from my life abroad as often as I can, and if I happen to like the whole blogging thing, perhaps I'll even keep it up after the summer.

The title of my blog comes from Isaiah 52:7, one of my favorite Bible verses:

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.”'

I always think of this verse when I see the scene in Return of the King, where the beacons are being lit across the mountains. That's a beautiful visual to me of the spread of the gospel, as is this scripture.

So, back to last minute packing. I leave tomorrow with my family, drive 10 hours to New Jersey, take the train to NYC where I will spend all day Tuesday, my family leaves me in Pennsylvania Wednesday morning, orientation begins in Philidelphia on Thursday, and we fly out to Prague on Friday. What a week it will be!

Tolkien says it best:

"The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And wither then? I cannot say."