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After many hours spent waiting in Paris' Charles de Gaulle airport, my third try out of Europe was a success when I finally caught a flight home on Sunday. I met a lot of interesting characters and made a few new friends along the way, but am so thankful to finally be back. Although my journey home took a few days longer than expected, God sent so many helpful people my way that I was compelled to start making a list of all the kind things done for me. One family traveling to Italy helped me drag my two suitcases through a snowy overpass outside the airport while another man let me use his international phone to call the airline after I missed my first flight. I'm convinced a few airline personnel waived the overweight baggage fees I should have incurred and another waved me through although my carry-on bags were too heavy and too large. Not sure if I would even make it home before Christmas, my time spent in limbo Friday through Sunday was stressful and frustrating, but also worshipful as I received God's provision over and over again through many friendly and patient people.

The extra days spent in Paris allowed me to process my time in Brussels some before returning home, but I know there will be more processing necessary in the coming weeks. The experience was so different from what I expected, and my ability to adapt to those differences was certainly challenged along the way. Yet the people I met and whose stories I heard are what made that adaptation worthwhile. I'm thankful for the relationships made, for the experiences shared, and for the peek at a bigger picture of how God is at work in our world. I'm eager to share this processing time with some of you all in the coming weeks. Look for more posts to come!

An Arab Au Revoir

The past week has been marked with a lot of "lasts." Monday and Tuesday held my last days of English classes as I proctored exams. Our "end of the year points party" on Wednesday was the last time for me to see many of my students. Saturday morning was my last time visiting a friend who lives a few towns away and that afternoon allowed for one last time serving with a local ministry to feed hundreds of Brussels' homeless under Garde-Midi train station. Yesterday marked my last Sunday attending Arab Church, and therefore my last time seeing many of the familiar faces who have slowly become friends. We hosted the youth and their families at our house after the service to retell, through pictures, videos, and stories, what the youth have learned and done this semester. It was a wonderful time for me to recognize the ways God has worked in this group and give thanks for being able to participate in that.

What was especially gratifying was identifying what God is doing with such humble offerings. I couldn't help thinking "a little sure goes a long way." Regular youth group meetings occur every other Friday night for 3 hours. We've enjoyed two weekend retreats together, a birthday weekend, and a couple outings with smaller groups of the kids. This is not the youth group of the West End that includes a research-led structure, printed t-shirts, a clever and concise mission statement, involved leadership council, and frequently updated blog site. But they love it.

It wasn't until June that this group had consistent youth group gatherings with good biblical teaching. At least two of these kids are living with unaddressed mental, emotional, and learning disabilities. Half come from divorced families. One has a Muslim father who competes with his Christian ex-wife for their daughter's faith. Another saw her biological father one day on the metro and walked in the other direction, knowing he wouldn't want to talk to her. One brother-sister pair are missing their older sister who ran away from home a year ago and a few more have changed schools and countries so much that friends and consistent standards of learning are both hard to come by. One can't study well at home with five people in a cramped two bedroom apartment and has failed her grade level multiple times. When I step back and reflect on where these kids are coming from, I realize why they love youth group so much. Little competition exists for it to be the best part of their week.

As I watched them crowd around my computer to laugh at our slideshow of pictures and eagerly grab their parents to tell corresponding stories, I couldn't help but smile. For them, it really doesn't take much. To have something fun to look forward to every other Friday; to walk into a place where they are accepted, loved, and safe; to have teaching and games planned just for them; to be reminded that they aren't alone in trying to follow Christ as a teenager in Brussels; to be told their gifts are useful, valued, and needed in the church... these are avenues by which God is growing these young people into men and women whose identity, treasure, and joy is in Him. I can't wait to see what God does in and through them in the coming years and am so thankful to have traveled with them on a part of their journey.

Adventus

In Advent we celebrate, day by day, the eager anticipation and preparation for the arrival of Jesus on earth. Advent season is full of preparations. We prepare delicious dishes for holiday get-togethers with family, friends, and coworkers. Holiday decor is pulled down from the attic, up from the basement, and strewn about the house, workplace, and church to prepare for visitors. We may bake sweet treats for our friends "just because," and we raid the local malls to find just the right gifts for everyone. At church, we light candles and sing familiar hymns as we prepare for the culminating day that celebrates the coming of the Light of the World. The growing list of preparations can become a spiritless to-do list and rob us of the Advent joy God intended for us. But when we pause from preparations and acknowledge the broken places we need Jesus to enter into, who can resist reaching out for all the life and hope God intends for us in this season?

This year, my heart has resonated strongly with the Advent cry for Jesus to come. Like those living in the 400 empty years between the last Old Testament prophet and the arrival of the Christchild, I am hopefully waiting for a word, a sign from God, anything to hear from Him and know His presence. Like Abraham and Sarah waited for a child, David waited to become king, and Jacob waited for Rachel, I too am waiting and looking for the daily fulfillment of the promises made me: His peace, strength, wisdom, justice, counsel, power, and rest, to name a few.

This Advent season, I am desperate for Jesus' coming. I am desperate for Him to come into my heart and transform the disbelief I have found there. I long for him to come and direct my mind's thinking as I contemplate next steps after Brussels. I yearn for him to come and captivate my entire being to such an extent that every step I make here is one of submissive, worshipful obedience. I want Him to come into the Arab church and create committed disciples out of our congregation. I can't wait for Him to become the center of the families represented at church. I eagerly look for Him to come and reveal Himself as loving Father and irresistible Savior to my Muslim friends here. I've never yearned for Jesus to come like I have here.

We need Jesus to come. We need Him to come and dwell in our hearts and relationships just as He came and physically dwelt among people in the dusty Middle East years ago. Our families, communities, and churches desperately need the full and abundant life His coming offers.

Jesus wants to. He longs to teach and transform us as we ask for and await His coming. For me and for you, the question is whether we are ready for Him to come. Are we ready for Him to come into the hidden, disgraceful parts of us and set up camp there? Do we expect Him to come and take control of our relationships so they more fully display His love?

Have you been anticipating His arrival? Have we prepared a place to welcome Him in?

When God Says Yes

Breathe deep. This will be one long (and overdue) blog entry...

The last few weeks have continued and even heightened my persistent struggle against feeling ineffectual and aimless here. To be honest, this experience has proven very different from my expectations when I excitedly stared out my plane window on September 3rd. For many known and unknown reasons, class sizes for English were smaller this year and remarkably inconsistent. The ages, language abilities, and genders of students in all my classes except for my one Moroccan friend in conversation class didn't allow for building relationships outside of class. I have wrestled with God a lot, questioning the process of making the decision to come here, and demanding an answer to why He led me here. Hours of thought have been devoted to conjuring up various possibilities.

Maybe I came to understand people's needs here and pray for them. Perhaps I was led here to spend lots of uninterrupted time alone with God every morning up in my room. Maybe God brought me here to help me discern if the life of an international missionary is a life I could ever live in the future. Maybe I needed to learn how to "do" Arab/Muslim/inner city/international ministry. Perhaps I came to learn how to survive in a foreign country, or maybe it was important for me to refine my cooking skills.

Whatever the reason(s), I've come to some confident conclusions in the midst of these ponderings. First, God has taught me that childlike trust in Him and His leadership is more fulfilling than answering the persistent question why. Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be shaken but endures forever (Psalm 125:1). My confidence and strength are born in obeying and trusting in our steadfast Lord more than understanding all the answers.

Second, God has painfully crushed my tendency of finding my identity in work. I am separate from what I do. I am separate from what I produce. I am God's. Work is necessary and important. However, my identity is first in the idea of belonging to Him, of whose I am, instead of my attachment to people, titles, programs, and results. But now, this is what the LORD says— he who created you..."Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine" (Isaiah 43:1).

Third, I've learned what it means to survive not by bread alone, but by every word of God. A favorite verse of many and for good reason, Philippians 4:6 has been ever present on my mind for the last few months. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. Although some days it has been a forceful act of the will to do so, I have thanked God every morning for this place and this experience. My time here has not been bad, but certainly challenging and faith-producing. After giving thanks, I have presented many requests to God for the people in the Arab Church, for Janee and Hary, for myself, and for my students. God answered some of these prayers and responded to my cry to verbally share about Him with a yes this week.

Tuesday before my Level 2 English class, I spent some time talking to an older Muslim male student about Eid al-Adha, the "Festival of Sacrifice" that was to begin Friday. This holiday commemorates Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son Isaac as an act of obedience to God. Muslims celebrate by sacrificing a lamb and sharing the food with family, friends, and the poor, feasting for the following three days. My student, "B," was happy to share about the feast, and I was happy to learn. Our conversation led to me introducing him to the idea of Jesus as our sacrificial lamb who took away the sins of the world. Because many Muslims love to talk about religion, English class was gladly postponed, and the next hour and a half, Hary, myself, "B," and another Turkish Muslim student preceded to talk about Christianity and Islam. Having experienced multitudes of these types of conversations, Hary posed many good questions to these students about truths they claim in Islam but have not yet critically evaluated.

Class ended with these three men still talking and debating downstairs, while I began conversation class upstairs with my female Moroccan Muslim friend, "Y," and a new student, a female Christian Iraqi refugee who is an old friend of Hary's. Our conversation in this class proved just as interesting as we jumped from the political situation in Iraq to the situation of Muslim women around the world, from this Iraqi woman's experience hiding under tables while bomb sirens rang out into the night in war-torn Baghdad, to Christianity's call to treat others with grace because of God's grace towards us. I ended the night elated, so thankful that God had provided opportunities to speak candidly about who He is and what He has done with these students that I have genuinely come to know and love.

I have been praying that my conversations with "Y" about Christianity would become more personal rather than informational, and in a quick and obvious answer to my prayer, Thursday's conversation class was filled with such conversation. I was able to ask more about this woman's family, what would happen if she became a Christian, and the idea that in contrast to inheriting religion in Islam through your family, in Christianity, faith begins when we choose to believe what Jesus has done for us and commit to a life of following Him. Please pray for that conversation with "Y" to be continued, and even more personally next class or when we spend time together on Sunday. "Y" is very interested in diversity, tolerance, and understanding other religions. Because of this and a desire to meet Arab Christians, she wants to come to the Arab Church with me next Sunday. Pray that she would come, and that her general curiosity would develop into a personal one that leads her to investigate Jesus for herself.

God has met and answered me in remarkably obvious ways this week, and I am so thankful! The hours of studying Islam, Arabic culture, and French seem well worth it. Please continue to pray for courage, hope, joy, and peace for me in these last three weeks in Brussels. Please also pray for these students as they begin to wrestle with Jesus, and that this wrestling would lead to one day knowing them as Christian brothers and sisters.

When I called, you answered me; you made me bold and stouthearted. Psalm 138:3

A Ministry Manifesto

I've been reading a lot of Paul lately. Have you heard of him? Authored half of the New Testament, missionary to many, and even served time for it. Ah yes, Paul.

Sometimes I forget he was a real person, and sometimes I catch myself adding my own little details to his life story. I picture him thoughtfully staring off into the distance, his head inquisitively turned slightly to the right, as he sails onward towards his next missionary destination. He smiles to himself as he remembers his friends throughout the empire that are thriving in new, flourishing home churches with too many members to count. He envisions the multitudes that have fallen on their faces before the Lord as a result of his ministry and confidently asks God for more, because naturally, he never ceases to pray.

For a few months now, I've been the missionary, and it's caused me to take some second looks at Paul. Who could better supply some helpful hints about this kind of life that I'm desperately trying to figure out?

Helpful Hint #1: Acknowledge the real deal. The valiant, calm pastor image I created in my head is probably not the reality of Paul's persona. Just because today we are privy to knowing the fruit of his ministry doesn't mean he could necessarily see it then, nor was he immune to disappointment along the way. Surely he felt despair when people and communities just didn't get it. With a fiery and fierce demeanor, he likely boiled with anger as he watched sin injure people and dishonor the name of God. For every individual who repented in order to follow The Way, there was likely another who rejected Paul's teaching as foolishness. He suffered disappointments in his ministry. And yet, God produced a growing first century church using Paul's efforts.

The more I experience church and ministry here, the more sentiments I think I share with Paul. I want to give the benefit of the doubt, but I also want to discover the truthful realities in people's lives here. Seeing brokenness is difficult, especially understanding the effects it wreaks on lives and successive generations. However, in order to tend to the brokenness, I've learned that we must first acknowledge the real deal of the situation. Often, the real deal is messy, ugly, and bleak. And we must question. What keeps individuals in the church from seeking growth? How can they complacently accept the emptiness of their current life? What kind of faith are men practicing if their wives can't tell the difference between their husbands as Muslims and now as Christians? How can women think faith is for men alone? Why bother with church and faith if it doesn't change your life? But we can't stop with questions and we can't accept the bleakness as the final word. We seek understanding only in order to herald the healing that comes through prayer, teaching, and the ministry of presence.

Helpful Hint #2: Build bridges. On a trip to Athens recorded in Acts 17, Paul exemplifies a concept Janee taught me my first week here as essential to Muslim ministry, and I think ministry in general. Although he was "greatly distressed to see that the city was full of idols," Paul finds common ground with these polytheists in order to then share the love of Christ with them. In fact, he openly spoke the truth in the synagogue and the marketplace, discussing and reasoning with whoever happened to be listening. He spoke the truth boldly enough to cause people to curiously ask for more. "May we know what this new teaching is that you are presenting? You are bringing some strange new ideas to our ears, and we want to know what they mean." Paul stands up before a meeting of thinkers, and begins hammering nails into a bridge of common understanding between their worldviews. "I see that in every way you are very religious," he says. "For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you." Paul continues to build a case for the one true God, but using their terminology. He emphasizes what they agree on and then moves onto the person of Christ and His resurrection. (Check out the end of the story in Acts 17:24-34).

Likewise, I'm learning and implementing this proclamation model for sharing the Gospel. Whether with my Muslim friend or with a youth at church, painstakingly constructing a bridge of shared belief is powerful. It builds a foundation of trust and respect, and creates a context into which the story of Jesus can most clearly enter.

And even then, Paul likely suffered some disappointment in the midst of what we would deem a ministry success. The result of his brilliant and relevant presentation was that "some of them sneered, but others said, 'We want to hear you again on this subject'... A few men became followers of Paul and believed." That's the real deal.

Helpful Hint #3: Adapt. As the beloved mentor of so many diverse congregations and as a dearly loved discipler and friend of many, it seems like Paul mastered this concept. "Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible... I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. I do this for the sake of the gospel." Whether it was becoming like Jews, Gentiles, or simply the weak, Paul understood the benefit of adapting the adaptable parts of his identity. Certainly there are fundamental features of our faith and uniqueness as our Father's children that we will refuse to touch, and rightly so, but for the rest, we must grip loosely.

I have and will continue to try adapt to the people and the world around me, if it means that somehow Christ looks better. I'm not a fan of organized group games. But, if it could lead to a richer community in our youth group that fosters honest discussion, I can enjoy a thumb war tournament or some fishbowl charades. Shopping wears me out and usually bores me to tears, but if that's my Muslim friend's suggestion for hanging out, shopping on Friday it is. I find dates and figs revolting, but if passing the bowl could impair a friendship or incur judgment that blocks one's sensitivity to God, then one or two never hurt anybody. In the end, becoming all things to all people becomes a lesson in freedom. Freedom can be found in such a self-emptying ideology. Jesus said so.

Weeks in Review

Now that I've experienced some "normal" weeks here in Brussels, I thought I'd fill you in on what I've been up to here instead of just my musings for the day. In an ironic twist from my last blog post about learning to be rather than filling my schedule with things to do, here are some brief snippets of what I've done over the last few weeks:

-embarked on a dumpster diving adventure to IKEA for giant boxes to be used to create scenery for the youth's Christmas play (that were then transported across the city via metro)
-visited an Italian widow from our church in her home, studied the Bible with her, and prayed with her
-helped a mother in the church host the youth for a weekend at her house to celebrate her son's 15th birthday
-studied English Church History with Janee in preparation for our trip to LONDON on Tuesday!!
-fed multitudes of homeless men, women, and children under a bridge in the center of the city
-spent the day with an Arab family, visited a farm, and learned how to make cheese from freshly pumped cow's milk
-learned how to correctly use the words "some" and "any" thanks to teaching Level 2 English
-concluded a study on a book called Honor And Shame by Roland Muller
-visited my Moroccan friend from my conversation "class," for her lunch break from work at the European Union
-traveled to Iran for the day by dressing as an Iranian woman, listening to Iranian radio, making Iranian food with Janee and Hary, and then praying together for the people of Iran
-prepped my English classes for their midterm exams last week
-hosted the youth for a "lock-in" type weekend at our apartment, which involved games, fall-inspired fun, teaching and singing French worship songs, and kicking off our semester purity study
-prayed with a Syrian woman from church and let her teach me how to spell my name in Arabic
-learned to make tortillas, Navajo flatbread, and a delicious feast all from scratch for a dinner party with 4 Arab couples
-continued the second installment of our purity study with the youth group at our usual every-other Friday night gathering

Below are some pictures for your viewing pleasure.

To Be

On one of the first days of English class, I taught my Level 1 students how to conjugate the verb "to be." I emphatically stressed that this was the most important word in the English language. You really can't say much without understanding this word. Imagine any conversation in English. Simple or complicated, this verb is essential. Hi, my name is Claire. I am from America. How are you?

Four weeks after the start of English classes, I'm starting to understand the importance of this "being" idea. I'm learning what it means to exist and the value in simply bearing God's likeness as I do so. The verb "do" has never given me any trouble. I get that. I've always been an exceptional "do-er." I happily worked all day most Saturdays during high school, and scheduled my days at college from morning until long past the sun had set. I can write Bible studies, lead meetings, and plan programs, no problem. I like doing. Being busy with a long to-do list in hand gives me an adrenaline rush. But when it comes time to stop doing and start being, I feel lost. I feel aimless. It makes me uncomfortable.

Not so for many other cultures on this earth. Europeans sit for hours at cafes. Perhaps they are involved in a fascinating conversation with a friend, or maybe they are watching people pass on the street. The content of this time usually isn't the point. Arab culture certainly understands the idea of being as well. It seems difficult to meet someone for coffee or tea for less than a couple hours. Church members arrive starting an hour before the service on Sunday, and stay at least an hour after. When things need to get done, they are accomplished, but only the essentials: cooking, eating, cleaning, constructing. The American mentality of back-to-back scheduled events doesn't apply here.

This week God let me have a small revelation into what He wants from me here. I think He wants to break me, and eight weeks in, I'm finally yielding to that breaking process.

God is breaking me of my preference for doing, and teaching me the more foundational idea of being. I'm learning to be with Him, really be with Him, as I sit and talk to Him in the mornings, imagining Him sitting beside me. I'm learning to be with Him as I seek His strength instead of finding satisfaction in the tangible results of my labor. I'm learning to be with the youth rather than merely accomplishing tasks and objective goals with them. Instead of just scheduling visits with women from the church into my daily calendar, I'm learning to be present with them as we drink coffee and pray together.

I have this mental image of God as a lumberjack, chopping away at my workaholic mindset. I'm not sure what the ideal balance is between doing and being as we walk through life, but God has set me down on a painstaking path of discovery to find out.

A New Normal

Seven weeks. I'm almost seven weeks into this little adventure called Brussels. How much has changed in those seven weeks! No longer am I quite so wide eyed as I walk down the street and see women dressed like this:

or cars like this: (or the former driving the latter for that matter).

I don't think twice now about the cars loudly honking outside my room or the thumping and scraping of chairs and tables moving in the neighbor's apartment. The sounds of Arabic don't strike me as strange as they did at first. I've even started to forget that I am the white American in the Arab Church.

The smell of the popular Lebanese 7 spices wafting from a dish are still tantalizing, but no longer alert my appetite as they did at first.



The tastes of certain Middle Eastern dishes and delicacies have become easily recognizable now as I walk into more and more homes.





















And so goes life, doesn't it? New becomes old.

New tastes become commonplace. New sights stop turning your head. New sounds become unnoticeable. New smells become unrecognizable. New relationships become comfortable and familiar. New ideas become givens. New ways of doing things become habits.

As much as they may try to resist, things new will become things old.

What do we do when the new becomes normal?

Some people actively search for more new, while others quietly wait for the small buds of change. Some grow complacent with life as they know it, while others manage to simultaneously remember and move forward.

My answer to this question is not a deep or inspiring one. With losing the newness of living here, I've also lost the desperate dependency on God I wrote about before. Multitudes of things still bombard me that I don't completely understand, but even that occurrence, in itself, seems normal. My little bit of knowledge of the neighborhood's layout, Arab culture, English classes, and the dynamics of the church have given me a false sense of control, as if a little more understanding could somehow replace God's sovereignty.

It's been a while since I've gone to sleep in awe of His power. And I can't seem to reconjure that notion of Him being the one familiar thing. I want those things back. Certainly these understandings endure beyond the times we find ourselves like a fish out of water, frantically flopping around in our foreign environment.

--

It was a beautiful, crisp fall day here, which begged for a run in a nearby park. In the middle of my run, the old hymn, God Our Help in Ages Past, began playing on my ipod. With the help of this song, my brain stopped it's scattered thinking and reframed this transition I'm experiencing away from newness.

God is not new. Yes, He does new things, He leads us into new life, His compassions are new every morning, but He is not new. And whether I feel it or not, I am still a child in need of my Father.

I began this blog in August thrilled about the new thing that God was doing by sending me to Brussels. Seven weeks in, I'm reminded of more than the new place I was sent, but of the God I came seeking, the God who is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

--

O God, our help in ages past, 
our hope for years to come,
our shelter from the stormy blast,
and our eternal home.

Under the shadow of thy throne,
thy saints have dwelt secure;
sufficient is thine arm alone,
and our defense is sure.

Before the hills in order stood,
or earth received her frame,
from everlasting, thou art God,
to endless years the same.

A thousand ages, in thy sight,
are like an evening gone;
short as the watch that ends the night,
before the rising sun.

Time, like an ever rolling stream,
bears all who breathe away;
they fly forgotten, as a dream
dies at the opening day.

O God, our help in ages past,
our hope for years to come;
be thou our guide while life shall last,
and our eternal home.

Arab Church Camp

Church Camp proved to be an enlightening and fun experience last weekend. I discovered that it was officially named Church Camp rather than Church Retreat for a reason. While I laughed a lot and delighted in feeling used by the Lord, little actual rest was involved in the weekend.

I did come home encouraged by the ways God has used this church to bring people to Himself, especially after hearing testimonies from a few Muslim background believers. I also returned on Sunday with more appreciation for Arab culture, especially the relational and communal nature of it, after being immersed in it for 48 hours with no escape. It was nothing for six guys ranging from six- to 18-years-old to wrestle and play for hours Saturday night. No one was really in a rush to leave Sunday afternoon, so some of the women sat and drank tea and talked together for a while after lunch. For Arabs, life is shared with those around you, and nothing seems more important.

Leading the youth was challenging, but fun. My patience, creativity, and ability to teach were all tried and developed as a result. The youth had many questions for us in response to our times of study and discussion together regarding what a relationship with God looks like, in what ways life is better when you are a Christian, how to share their faith with their family, and how to discern between right and wrong in regards to media exposure, substance use, and relationships.

The highlight of the weekend for me was equipping the youth to perform a drama for the church's variety show. We hurriedly practiced on Saturday, and when they performed on Saturday night, they moved the church to cheers and tears. I was so proud of them. The church has never expected them to contribute, nor really pays them much notice. In turn, the youth don't recognize their responsibility to the body of Christ and don't understand the ways in which they are gifted. However, this weekend offered a different story. You can watch the drama here.

I'll tell you the rest in pictures:

Please pray for these youth to question, wrestle, and seek God individually, and with their family and this youth group. Pray that God would reveal Himself to each of these youth in an undeniable way. Also, please pray for discipleship to take place in the lives of church members.

You can call me Miss Claire

Hi friends! I just finished my first week teaching English classes and thought I'd give you a short synopsis.
I love our students already. We have students from the Syria, Congo, Poland, Portugal, Belgium, Morocco, Albania, Senegal, and Iran, ranging from age 13 to 60-something. They are (for the most part) very eager to learn and fun to get to know. As you can imagine, you learn to laugh at yourself a good bit when you're learning a foreign language, so we've been able to laugh together a good bit already. We have 4 levels of classes, with the highest being a conversation class. This year, only one student enrolled in conversation class, a 27 year-old woman who works for the European Union and also happens to be very friendly and easy to talk to. Essentially, we have a coffee date twice a week for the next 10 weeks to talk about whatever she wants. Finally, I enjoy teaching much more than I expected to, which makes class fun. I originally thought of English class only as a means to build deeper relationships with these individuals, but the process of helping someone grasp a word or concept has been satisfying as well.
Please pray for all these relationships being formed with our students: I want each individual we're teaching to think favorably of Christ by the end of the semester because of knowing Janee, Hary and I, and I want each student to see and hear the Gospel as clearly as possible by the end of the semester.
I leave tomorrow for a church-wide weekend retreat in Waterloo. The adults of the church will be led by a guest pastor from Germany and worship leader from Syria, while Janee and I will lead separate sessions for the youth during the same time. We've planned about 9 hours worth of Bible study and discussion focused on our identity in Christ: who we are as Christ-followers, what our message is as such, and the practical daily application of that in our lives. This is the first time for most of the youth to participate in something like this, and likely the first time they have personally engaged these ideas. Please pray for them to wrestle with God this weekend and respond to the Gospel with sincere understanding and joy!

What is Better

Another week has passed here in Brussels, and with it, winter has arrived! I begrudgingly donned my winter coat for the first time tonight, but am thankful that the cold rain that characterizes Brussels has kept its distance so far. The beginning of this week has been more of a struggle for me than others. With neither a good grasp of French nor a strong competency in Arab culture, I've wrestled a lot with a strong feeling of uselessness. Have you ever felt this way?

If you have, you know it is an effort to convince yourself that you are NOT purposeless, NOT aimless, NOT disposable, and NOT just a "bump on a log," as my mom would say. You know Jesus' hint that those who are trusted with very little can be trusted with much seems easier said than done (Lk 16:10). This feeling isn't completely unfamiliar to me, but being in a place far from friends and family and living here solely by the gifts of others seems to magnify it. I was not commissioned to be useless. God knew what I needed, and gave me a reprieve from the drag of this feeling on Saturday in the form of slapping together hundreds of cheese sandwiches and ladling bowls of hot soup. The Arab church serves with a local organization called Tabitha Ministries once every five weeks to make and serve dinner to hundreds of homeless women, men, and children in Brussels. Nothing will make you feel useful like being part of a concerted effort to feed over 200 people on a cold night. I watched the piles of sandwiches grow as we worked in the kitchen, and later that night I watched them enter the mouths of the city's hungry and poor. It was the definition of seeing a tangible result of your work, and selfishly, it felt great.

There are many moments from Saturday night that I wish I could elaborate on: seeing the hoards of people already waiting for food when we arrived downtown, numerous Muslims debating about whether the food we gave was halal (acceptable by God to be consumed), and silently snacking on spicy Cheetos with a homeless man and woman who couldn't understand my French. But there was one moment that was seared into my mind. While serving soup at the end of the line, I witnessed an uncomfortable encounter between a ministry volunteer and a homeless man. The man's hands were dripping with hot coffee as he attempted to also balance a bag of non-perishables, three sandwiches wrapped in a paper towel, and a cup of soup. The volunteer noticed his struggle and reached for his sandwiches to try to help him adjust his handful. The man angrily jerked away, spilling more of his coffee and now his soup on his arm. Persistently, the volunteer tried again, only to be met with an audible, angry snarl. At this point, the cup of coffee was mostly empty and the soup cup was close to the same. Patiently, the volunteer moved again to help the man, and this time he relented. Quickly, the sandwiches were tucked into the bag and placed on his shoulder, leaving a free hand for his coffee and a free hand for his cup of soup. The volunteer led the man back to the table to replenish both, and after the man hurriedly scuffled away.

I couldn't stop thinking, "That's me." Like the man, I rigidly cling to what I have and what I know, and become frenzied and annoyed when the familiar is disrupted; when the tangible is threatened. Is that you? This man didn't understand that there was a better way to get his food home, and likewise, I too have refused to consider any better ways to be useful here than the ways I know and prefer. As the volunteer gently tried to help the man fit more, take more, eat more, the man refused the outstretched hand. Why? Was it fear, pride, or impatience? Whatever the reason, he refused to let go and receive what was better. When God tries to rearrange things; when he asks us to let go, He is usually offering us something more and better. What are you clinging to?

For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. Mark 8:35.

Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! Matthew 7:9-11.

Ready

Most mornings I wake up here and have little idea what the day will hold. Arab culture is more relaxed than the pace of life at home, which leads to many unexpected knocks at the door for a visit or conversations over tea that can last so long your legs go numb. Usually only one visit or event is scheduled for the day and catching up on emails, French study, and lesson plans can only take so long. English classes begin in one week, which will lend more structure and shape to my days, but until then, I wake up in the morning both ignorant and curious of what's to come.

Imagining yourself in my shoes might seem relieving and freeing or rather aimless and disappointing. I can assure you I've felt all of those emotions in the last three weeks. My personality loves planners, schedules, and fixed plans, but the hectic days of college have left me incredulous and somewhat guilty-feeling at the possibility of an open day on the calendar.

This lack of scheduling has forced me to become available to God in a new way. I can't categorize my life here among different commitments and then check tasks off as they are accomplished. There is no time set aside that is most certainly "my time." It all belongs to God. So, I'm learning to wait on God, I'm learning to pray in a desperate kind of way, and I'm learning to live, moment by moment, as God directs me. If it's time to study, I study, if it's time to prepare, I prepare, if it's time for a visitor, I visit, if it's time to rest, I rest. And, as I learned on Friday, if it's time to explain who Jesus is to the Iranian man at the copy store, I go with it. I don't believe God will waste my unplanned time here. So far, my availability to Him and to people has provided providential encounters and purposeful conversations remarkably different from my previous "scheduled to a T" life.

I can't plan on much here, but I can act out of a deep confidence in God's Sovereignty. Part of each morning is spent praying for what I can guess will occur in the next 24 hours. But now, mornings include a profession to my Father that He knows what the day will hold, in fact He is the very one who has crafted it for me, and an expectant plea to be made ready.

This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24.

Food for Thought

Today marks the last day of Ramadan, the month of prayer and fasting for Muslims. Most Muslims observe Ramadan, and are more careful to pray five times per day toward Mecca during this month, as Islam dictates. Muslims observing Ramadan fast from sun up until sun down every day in order to understand the sufferings of the poor and appreciate Allah's blessings. Ramadan is one of the five pillars of Islam, and fosters a sense of community among Muslims around the world. Please pray for Muslims around the world today at the end of Ramadan, specifically that those who have been sincerely seeking God will be led to Jesus. You can learn more about Ramadan at www.30-days.net.

Here are some additional facts about Islam, courtesy of Janee's August prayer letter and the web site mentioned above:

• 1 out of every 5 people in the world is a Muslim
• 9 out of 10 Muslims have never met a Christian
• Islam is the most practiced religion here in Belgium
• There are 53.7 million Muslims living in Europe; there are 2.4 million in the United States
• More than half of the world's poor and needy are Muslims
• 75% of the world's refugees come from Muslim nations
  

Fried chicken and buttered corn

Marhabah! That's the English pronunciation for hello in Arabic. You've read that I desperately need to grasp the French language to survive here, but little did I know that I would also be learning some basic Arabic. While there is a Belgian flag displayed in the link to this blog on Gayton's web site, the two weeks I've spent in Brussels have felt more like two weeks in Morocco. The neighborhood in which I live is actually known as "Morocco II" by the residents here. Meandering into any store, I can find an abundance of seasonings, fruits, and packaged goods from Morocco or Turkey, but the only recognizable items I can find from home are Coca-Cola, Fanta, and some generic produce. Moroccans, the most prominent nationality in this neighborhood, have commented how ridiculous the idea of inviting a family member here from home would be, as it seems so much like home to them. To say that I'm a minority is an understatement.

Adjusting to life here has necessitated a fair amount of culture shock, much more than first anticipated. I was headed for Europe, which I assumed would hold striking similarities to life as I knew it, maybe even with an extra dose of sophistication. I've only encountered the Europe I imagined a few times, however, for a quick trip downtown or for the afternoon I strolled the cobblestone streets of Bruge. No elegant cafes, canals, or high fashion can be found in my neighborhood. Instead, women donning foulards (headscarves) stand in line at bakeries and butcheries, what could be casual cafes are actually bars filled with Arab men at night, and the "park" in front of our apartment consists of concrete slabs instead of grass and a few pieces of play equipment.

Besides the blaring cultural differences, simple, everyday tasks are now learning moments for me. At church on Sunday, I had to leave the restroom to ask one youth how to flush the toilet. In an attempt to blowdry my hair yesterday, I filled the entire third floor with putrid smoke from overheating the electrical adaptor. Reading the clock requires extra time to convert the numbers I see to meaningful information. Even the simplest tasks require special concentration and a request to God for patience. I've found myself longing for the familiar much more than expected. On Tuesday, that yearning led Janee and I to deep fry pieces of chicken, butter some corn, and cut up potatoes to make french fries. As much as I love the Lebanese, Syrian, and Tunisian dishes I've tried, there is comfort to be found in good 'ol American cooking. All of you at home, don't take it for granted!

The truth that God is the same in Brussels, Morocco, and the States has provided great encouragement and rest to me in a very powerful way. He is the familiar, and certainly fills and nourishes me in a way that fried chicken and buttered corn simply cannot. In many afternoons of language study and conversations over tea lately, I have asked God where He is, what He's doing, and what I am to learn in that moment. So far, it's been difficult to hear God's response in the midst of this empty, spiritually deficient place, but I've seen a few glimpses of Him. And He is big. When everything feels foreign, when expectations fail us, when I don't know how to flush a toilet, He is the familiar.

Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay in posting. I've been without internet on my computer until a nice man named Ihmad, who happens to be a computer genius, fixed it yesterday.

It hasn't been until the last few days that I've really started to feel comfortable here. The culture shock has been a lot more than anticipated, and the language barrier has been a steep one to traverse. The pictures above highlight some events from the week. Friday night we hosted youth group at Janee and Hary's home. It was a fun night, with lots of games and pizza. The youth are so fun, and really committed to each other. Earlier last week, Janee and I met with a woman with a Muslim background who is new to the church, and asked to study Scripture with her. She made us tea and we read through John 1 together, asking each other questions and discussing whatever topics came up from the text. It was a very meaningful time together. Janee and I spent one day in Bruge, with the canals and cobblestone streets. It is a very nice and touristy area, very different from where I live!
Because English classes haven't begun yet, most of what I've been doing is joining Janee and Hary to meet with women and families in their homes, or hosting whoever decides to stop by the house one day. Yesterday, we had a big Lebanese lunch with 9 Arab men from the church, which I greatly enjoyed. Three of them are getting baptized next week. Many of the single men in the church have a close community and brotherhood, and I desire to see that for the women, although it remains more difficult to create.
Janee and I are taking a day of rest today, and going to find some American food on the other side of the city. I will update you all again soon thanks to this lovely invention I now enjoy on my computer called the internet.

J'ai arrivé!

That means: "I have arrived" in French. French is the common language here shared by immigrants and white Belgians alike. I will need to learn it quickly in order to function outside of my apartment.

To say my first two days have been a blur is an understatement. My flight went smoothly, and following Janee's advice, we spent the entire day touring Brussels to keep me moving and keep my awake so I could get over jet lag faster. The center of the city is very old and parts of it are very pretty with impressive buildings and cobblestone streets, but it will have to grow on me. Just walking through it made me a bit sad. There is something dark about it. To smile at someone you pass on the street is unheard of, and materialism seems to be worshipped everywhere I look.

Last night, I accompanied Janee and Hary to visit a man in the church who just had surgery, and we ended up spending a few hours visiting him and 18 other of his extended family members. Their family was warm, loving, and although it was difficult to actually speak to anyone, I enjoyed sitting with them and playing with the kids.

To make this process easier for everyone, I will introduce you to my new friends so you can visualize my life here a little better. Above is a picture of Janee and Hary, the M's I live with. Hary is from Syria and speaks Arabic, French, and a bit of English. He is very sweet, eager to help, and loves to make me laugh. He will be in my level 2 English class beginning in a few weeks! Janee grew up in Illinois and has spent time doing missions in Africa and here in Brussels. She has been a great teacher for me so far and a comfort to be around.

Please pray for me to be able to pray. My brain is in overdrive taking so much in. It's been difficult to focus when trying to talk to God and even know when I can set aside time to do that. All I can seem to meditate on is the phrase, "God is my strength."

Tonight is Arabic Bible Study (a small group through the church) and tomorrow will be the actual church service. I'm eager to meet church members, study, and worship with them. I'll update you again when I have internet (I'm currently on Janee's computer).

*Correction: People here drive on the same side of the road as we do in the United States.

Leaving Today!

After many days of frantic errands and sad farewells, my plane leaves this evening to Brussels!  It is such a bittersweet time for me and very difficult to leave people and life here while not yet being able to visualize what God has prepared for me in Brussels.  I read Janee and Hary's (the missionaries with whom I'll be working) monthly prayer letter multiple times this morning to remind me of the work that our Sovereign God is already doing there.  Please pray for focus and perspective for me in the coming days, as well as a heart that is eager with hope to see God's power at work in people.  

Thank you for all of your support and encouragement over the last few weeks.  The calls, emails, financial support, notes, prayer, and words of wisdom I have received from Gayton, my family, and my friends are truly a source of strength for me as I prepare to leave.  God has given me great peace through your support.  I am deeply thankful for your involvement in this journey, and frankly, overwhelmed by the beauty of the Spirit moving in people's lives all around me.  God is big!

Please pray for safety as I travel.  This will be the first time I've flown over the ocean and I'm really nervous!  Also pray for smooth logistics with flight times and my layover tonight in Philadelphia.  Pray that I would connect with Janee and Hary quickly and easily once in Brussels.  Finally, please ask God to transform my sadness to leave friends and family into joy at embarking with Him on this new journey.  

Janee says the best way to get rid of jet lag is to not sleep right away, so she'll be taking my sightseeing as soon as I get arrive on European soil!  I'll update you as soon as I can.  Thank you for your commitment to seeking our Father in prayer on my behalf.

Taking the Plunge

At two and a half weeks out from my trip, I've encountered a barrage of new things as I've prepared for the logistics of this journey: European electrical adaptors, exchange rates, fundraising, and medical evacuation insurance. I've tried to wrap my mind around the new things I will experience daily once I arrive: people driving on the wrong side of the road, immigrants and refugees who have spent their lives moving and fleeing, 3 national languages and innumerable Arabic dialects, Arab culture in Europe, living with two newlyweds, a long-time national feud between the Flemish and the French, an aversion to Americans, and former Muslims who have sacrificed much to profess Christ as Lord and Savior. There has been so much "newness" already and much more to come.
This blog that you're reading is another new thing in my life, something that will be both an experimental art and a discipline for me to maintain, but a valuable way to communicate with you. As with many commitments in my life, I will struggle with a prideful "all or nothing" attitude towards it, either updating you every day or barely at all. I'm going to give it my best shot. Thank you for caring enough to read.
This creation is called Seeking & Sent because I am seeking and sent... and because my name was already taken.
I'm seeking God and what He's up to in the world, in my community, in my friends, and in me. My life is about discovering who He is, who I am, and who He wants me to become. I am a curious and expectant seeker.
I am also sent. I have been sent to represent Christ to those around me- to the cashier at the grocery store, to my family, to those I'll be working with in Brussels, to my church, to acquiantances, and to friends. Every morning, God wakes me up and sends me with a vision and a message. What an adventure it is to be sent.

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.  Isaiah 43:19