Thanksgiving Thoughts

God is so, so good. I was supposed to work an 8-hour shift at work yesterday (Thanksgiving Day) since they don't celebrate Thanksgiving here (this doesn't mean people aren't thankful; they just don't set aside a day to focus on it). Some students from HTB were putting together a Thanksgiving dinner for the other American students and anyone else who wanted to come, but since I had to work until 9pm, I wasn't going to be able to go. In preparation for celebrating by myself at work, I went to the local Waitrose grocery on Wednesday night and acquired:
-a bit of deli-sliced turkey
-a potato
-a packet of turkey gravy mix

To this odd combination of Thanksgiving-esque ingredients, I also added homemade cranberry honey walnut scones. And off I went to work with a mini-Thanksgiving dinner in tow and a heart that ached slightly to be at home just for the day or even just to get a chance to properly mark the day's festivities in the company of people who understood its significance.

I got to work at 1pm, worked box office from 1:30-2:30pm, ushered for the matinee performance at 2:30pm, and eventually at 5pm, made my way upstairs to the office to start my office work for the day. As I sat down at main worktable, my English boss wished me a Happy Thanksgiving. I was quite happy. :) The rest of the staff, thus reminded, also wished me Happy Thanksgiving and then asked if I had any plans. I said that I knew some people having a dinner, but that I wasn't going to be able to go, so I'd sort of packed my own.

They simply weren't going to stand for this. Although they don't really understand why Thanksgiving means so much to us, they had apparently known enough Americans to know that it was really important. They insisted that I leave work early enough to make it to the dinner on time and decided that someone else would work my evening box office shift for me. They even gave me a box of baked goods (since one of my coworkers had brought in baked goods in honor of her birthday that day) to take to the dinner so that I wouldn't be going empty-handed! God is so good.

I spent a lovely evening filled with great food and the company of fellow American Christians, all being nostalgic for home and American football and family. Just for fun, one girl even made name tags with "Indian names" on them for everyone. So for the evening, I was "Ziracuny" which apparently meant "water monster."

Full of apple and pumpkin pie, mashed and sweet potatoes, stuffing, and turkey, and enjoying the pleasant effects of tryptophan (for those of you who don't know, that's what's in turkey that makes you feel so happy and sleepy after you eat a lot of it), I came home to my flat and skyped with my parents for an hour and a half, which was lovely. I enjoy got to see my dog on skype! :) What started out as a potentially kind of depressing and nostalgic day turned into a festive occasion! Praise God. I have so much to be thankful for.

I close this entry (since I have to go get ready for work today) with a short list of things for which I'm thankful this Thanksgiving:

1) a Savior who loved me enough to die and rise again to save me, and who never leaves me, no matter where I go--even halfway across the world

2) a family who loves me unconditionally

3) friends at home who haven't let thousands of miles affect the quality of our friendship

4) a loving church family here in London

5) the opportunity to study abroad--it has been and continues to be one of the best experiences of my entire life; it has changed me in so many ways

6) a place to practice singing--on Wednesday night I very nearly got banned from the practice rooms I had been using at Imperial College because the staff finally noticed that I was there and wasn't an Imperial student, but then when I explained why I was there and that I really didn't have anywhere else to go, the staff person took pity on me and said if I kept coming late in the evening when there wasn't a lot of competition for the practice rooms, he'd "turn a blind eye" so I could keep coming. Praise God! I was so scared during that conversation that I was about to lose my chance to practice for the rest of the semester. (He also paid me the compliment of guessing that I was a Royal College of Music student after his guess that I wasn't an Imperial student was confirmed.)

7) Skype/G-chat/Email/Facebook/Phone calls to the US for 4p a minute: Thousands of miles doesn't seem so far when you can talk to family and friends at the touch of a button! And being able to see them makes it even better!

To everyone at home, I love you and miss you. Happy Thanksgiving!

Complications & Costumes/Hiking & Haggis: A Weekend in Scotland

This post is brought to you by the perseverance of one Gregory Steimel (with assistance from one Benjamin A. Rearick), who has faithfully flooded my existence with internet communications reminding me that I have been truly delinquent in keeping this blog up-to-date.


Without further ado, here is a long-overdue record of my weekend in Edinburgh, Scotland, on September 24th-27th:

Ahem!
Chapter 1:
Mallory and I decided we wanted to go up to Scotland for the weekend. We started pricing train and bus tickets. We were indecisive. We were rapidly running out of time. Things were getting complicated. It was Wednesday night. We wanted to leave on Friday morning and we still didn't have tickets.


Then things got more complicated. We realized that overnight buses were cheaper. This meant leaving Thursday night. So we bought the tickets. Yes, 24 hours before we left.


Minutes later, things got even more complicated. Our internet shorted out. So we were left with bus tickets to Edinburgh, Scotland, the following night, but we had no place to stay and no means of getting home again on Sunday. Additionally, we had no formal plans of what we'd do once we got to Edinburgh on Friday morning.


To make things even more complicated, I had already planned to go to an event at HTB with my flatmate Tyson (it was the Alpha Launch night with special guest Bear Grylls...yes, I have seen Bear Grylls in person, for those of you who know who he is. Feel free to be jealous!) which wasn't supposed to end until about 9:30pm or so, and Mallory had a required trip to the theatre with her Shakespeare class that night. Our bus was supposed to leave Victoria bus station at 11:20pm. Mallory would be sprinting from the Globe Theatre with her duffel bag, and I would rushing to get home from the church event.


Thursday came, and things got slightly less complicated because our internet finally started working again around lunchtime, so we booked a hostel and a train home in between our morning and afternoon classes (we both had morning and afternoon classes, which effectively meant almost no time to pack). Tyson and I went to the event at HTB, which turned out to be really cool. It finished at a reasonable hour and I hurried home. But things became slightly more complicated again. I hadn't packed yet.


I packed incredibly fast, throwing only essentials into the camping backpack that Rachel Tarter graciously loaned me (which served her well during her semester abroad in London a few years ago) and bolted out the door. I caught a bus to the Tube, then took the Tube to Victoria station. Arriving at Victoria precisely moments before the time I'd agreed to meet Mallory, I let out a sigh of relief and looked around for the bus stop sign. I saw a sign that said "Victoria Coach Station -->"...


...and things suddenly got more complicated again. This sign pointed the way to others like it, and I was off on a race across a few blocks to where the bus station--which I discovered that night was a separate building from the Tube station--was located. Mallory and I finally found each other and breathed a sigh of relief. We tried to collect our tickets, only to discover that things were more complicated than we'd thought.


It was after 10pm. The ticket counter was closed. And no ticket seemed to mean no bus to Scotland. We quickly tracked down a member of staff, who [fortunately] informed us that since we had our confirmation numbers written down, we would still be okay. Phew!


And after all of that, we were finally on our way.

Chapter 2:
We arrived in Edinburgh, Scotland, at breakfast time. It was raining. We acquired sustenance and coffee from a pastry shop and found an awning under which to eat it. Soon the weather cleared and we began to wander up and down the Royal Mile.


We stopped at the Edinburgh Museum just to look around...and spent the next few hours there. On the second floor (first floor, UK definition), they had an area designed for young people (and the young at heart) complete with crafts and historical costumes to teach children about the history of Scotland in creative and interactive ways. Two theatrically inclined individuals + rack of costumes + no other definite plans = lots of fun pictures!







There was also a coloring/craft area, where we worked hard on "stained glass" souvenirs!


Such maturity, I know. We also looked at rest of the exhibits while we were there, not just the ones for kids! We also saw the Scottish National Covenant



and the Badge of the Six Feet Club


and information about historical trade patterns.



Chapter 3:
[to be added later...it's after 1am GMT and I have work in the morning!]

God Sets the Lonely in Families

Ok, now it's time to commence the back-tracking to cover important events that happened several weeks ago but which I never managed to write about here. This first one is possibly the most significant and consequently colors all the rest of my experiences this semester.

Pretty much anyone who knows me knows that I adore hugs. I think they make the world a better place. So the fact that I went a full week without being hugged by anyone when I first got to London was remarkably difficult for me. So many of you back home did an incredible job of being there for me through emails and instant messaging and such as I settled in to my new surroundings and began to adjust to the culture, but I still knew that I needed to have a physically present community of believers with whom I could fellowship if this semester was going to be even half of what I hoped it could be. Therefore I knew even before I left the USA that finding a church was going to be one of the most important tasks in my first days in London.

Last spring, a friend of a friend who'd previously studied in London had recommended that I check out a church called Holy Trinity Brompton. I looked it up, realized that it was within easy walking distance (maybe a 20 min walk) from my flat, and decided that since it was one of the closest churches to where I was living, it seemed like a good place to at least start my search for where God wanted me to be in community for the semester. I got up early and went to the first morning service on the first Sunday I was in town (Sept. 6th). It turned out that this was the service aimed at families with younger children, so although the people sitting around me were quite welcoming, I left without any significant contacts or acquaintances and unwillingly resigned myself to the prospect of another week devoid of physical fellowship with the Body of Christ.

The most encouraging aspects--the reasons that kept me looking forward to the following Sunday and made me want to give Holy Trinity Brompton (aka "HTB") another chance--were that the people who had sat near me and welcomed me had encouraged me to come back and attend the 5pm service, since that was the service that most of the students and young adults attended, and that a lady from the church had taken the time to pray for and with me before I left. She told me after she'd finished praying for me that God had given her a 'picture' of someone stepping out almost in a leap of faith only to find solid ground beneath their feet. She said that it meant that God was telling me that He had prepared a solid foundation for my time here in London and that I needn't be afraid to trust Him and step forward into everything He had in store for me this term (British lingo for "semester"). Although I was naturally wary of anyone saying that God was giving them pictures or visions, this seemed to actually apply to me (it was certainly encouraging, though a bit bewildering) and wasn't unbiblical, so I felt like I needed to trust God and come back once more to give the 5pm service a chance.

I spent that week in increasing spiritual distress as Sunday drew nearer. I was loving every minute of exploring London and taking classes, but inside I ached for a fellow believer's presence. I prayed intensely for God to send me some sort of community that Sunday--even just one or two people.

That Saturday and Sunday, I attended a festival down on the banks of the Thames (I enthusiastically participated in the swing dancing opportunities it afforded), then headed straight to HTB on Sunday in time for the 5pm service. After a week of spiritual loneliness, communal musical worship and prayer were so, so good. Once again I was pleased to find that the young lady sitting in front of me welcomed me and made a point of introducing me to the minister in charge of students (Jamie Haith) after the service was over.

During the service, I'd started praying that God would allow me to make good enough acquaintances that there would be one or two people I could invite over for dinner after the service since I hadn't eaten yet and I really wanted to share a meal in fellowship with other believers. I was feeling very discouraged that, by the time it was time to leave after the 5pm service, I hadn't gotten to know anyone well enough to actually invite them over. I nearly stayed for the 7pm service, too, in hopes of maybe making connections at that service, but I finally admitted to myself that if I hadn't made connections at the 5pm, then my chances were even lower for the 7pm. Plus, if I'd stayed for the 7pm service, it would have been 9pm or later when I would have gotten home and I would still not have had dinner. So, with downcast heart, I made my way out of the church building, not wanting to go home. As I walked out the doors, I noticed the table set up with the "Students" poster and Dan Millest, one of the Students ministry staffmembers, standing there chatting with a couple of guys. I'd met him last week when I'd visited the Students table at the morning service, and eager to delay what seemed like the inevitable a little longer, I went over to say hello before heading home. He remembered me from the week before, and within moments I found myself spilling how hard that week had been without Christian community in London. He turned to the two guys he was talking to (James and David) and said, "Well, some of the students go to a pub after the Five on Sundays. These guys are heading over--want to go with them?" And of course I jumped at the opportunity to meet more students! Thanks, God!, I thought. Dan commissioned James, "Make sure she gets connected, oh, and make sure someone prays for her." Wow, I thought, This is even better than what I was hoping for! So off I went with two complete strangers to a pub that I'd never heard of to hang out with people I hadn't met yet. And I was so happy, I could barely stand it!

On the walk to the pub (called the Zetland Arms for anyone who cares to know), we passed a cookie shop ("Ben's Cookies"--it's supposed to be great but I haven't had an opportunity to try it yet) and a discussion ensued about the difference between a 'biscuit' and a 'cookie.' *cue drumroll* British Cultural Lesson! As near as I can tell, the relationship between biscuits and cookies is a bit like rectangles and squares. All squares are rectangles, but not all rectangles are squares. Likewise, all cookies are biscuits, but not all biscuits are cookies. 'Cookies' to the Brits are what we consider cookies in the US--often soft and chewy with things like chocolate chips in them. However, 'biscuit' is a broader term that also includes things like shortbread cookies and similar things that here are called "digestives."
Anyway, back to HTB!

When we reached the pub, David bought me a pint, I ordered dinner, and people began to come over voluntarily to say hello. God seemed to be having fun exceeding all my expectations for the evening. Not only did He send me the one or two people I'd prayed for to share dinner with, he sent me over a dozen to hang out with for the next four hours! Despite the stereotype that Brits are reserved when they first meet you, these students enthusiastically initiated introductions with me. One girl (Jess) just walked up, said hello, and hugged me immediately. No handshake necessary, apparently! Several other similar instances occurred over the course of the evening. I just kept thanking God over and over; He'd sent me to a group of people who like hugs just as much as I do and genuinely care about one another. The love of Christ is evident in these people, and I was so grateful to be there. Ok, God, I thought, I get it. This is where you want me to be. You couldn't have made it any clearer! Since it was the weekend of the Thames Festival, there was a fireworks display down by the river that night. A number of the students were going and invited me to join them. Once again, God surprised me! Standing on a bridge watching the fireworks, James remembered that no one had prayed for me yet, so he introduced me to Maz, who proceeded to pray for me right there on the bridge. As she prayed, she quoted Psalm 68:6a which says, "God sets the lonely in families" and I thought, Amen! That is exactly what He has done for me tonight!

And that, dear family and friends, is story of how God proved His faithfulness and sovereignty in placing me at HTB for this term in London. As this post has turned out quite long, I'll save more stories about HTB and the Students group for another post. Cheers!

You Don't Say...

Hey everone! Just arrived home from Hamburg, Germany. I must say, it is lovely to be back in London, even if it was raining when we got here. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed the accents (or being able to understand the language)! Time for another Top Ten:

Top Ten Things Heard/Overheard, Fall Break 2009
1) "I don't want to see you tomorrow" -the lady at the Ryanair counter to Mallory and me
2) "I look like I'm about to smack someone" -5 yr old British girl in airport, talking about her passport photo
3) "That's not my teddy!" -recurring line from a children's book that some poor mother read enthusiastically and repeatedly for the duration of our flight from London to Trieste, Italy, in order to keep her small toddler quiet
4) "Good job!" -Italian lady making fun of us as we dragged our luggage along the Venice marathon route
5) "Vatican, schmatican...who needs the Vatican when I've got tiramisu!?" -Mallory
6) "509 BC: Kings are bad" -Justin, our walking tour guide in Rome, summarizing the historical point he'd just explained in detail
7) "You don't speak English. I don't like you. You can close the door now." -Lady working on the overnight train from Rome to Vienna, after a particularly frustrating conversation with another passenger in our compartment
8) [Quacking sound effects] -waiters at a restaurant in Rome making fun of Mallory's rubber duck when she put it on the table to take a picture
9) "Nothing says love like a big Communist hug" -Tom, the bike tour guide in Berlin regarding the pedestrian crosswalk images in former East Berlin
10) "They threw on their dressing gowns, mullets flapping in the wind, and ran down to the visa office" -Tom, the bike tour guide in Berlin, regarding the events that directly led to the Berlin Wall coming down

More explanations, specific stories, and lots of pictures to follow after church and catching up on some sleep. Until then, cheers!