Trying to think outside the box...

...about boxes, of all things.

Ok, so college students do it regularly, military families do it regularly, missionaries do it regularly...so why isn't there more written about it?

I'm talking about moving, of course. :)

College students move usually twice a year (to and from college) for four-plus years, military families move anywhere from every 6 months to 4 years, and missionary families often move between the field and their home-church base for sabbatical times.  There's tons on the internet about moving, packing, cleaning out the clutter before the move, and unpacking after the move.  That's all well and good and has definitely helped me over the years.

But now what I can't seem to find is the one type of thing that I really want to know about: when one is preparing for a life-time (or at least several years of the foreseeable future) of constant moving, how does one make EVERYTHING one owns portable or easily packable or flexible, without looking like one is living in a college dorm room with posters haphazardly taped to the walls and stacks of flimsy, brightly colored plastic rubbermaid boxes holding anything that doesn't fit in the wardrobe that came with the dorm room?  Where are the blogs about making every piece of furniture do double duty as furniture and storage that can be adapted to any sized living space but be both easily packed up and moved with out breaking easily, yet still look classy or even coordinated?  Where's all the advice about how to decorate your first home or apartment when you know full-well that you'll be relocating the entire contents in 6 months or less?

I'm determined to meet this challenge head-on and master it.  I WILL figure out a way to make this work, to keep the furniture and containers and systems that will transition well from location to location, from one side of the globe to the other, if need be, and cull out everything that weighs us down without being worth the extra effort. :)

In closing:
"Have nothing in your homes that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful."
-designer William Morris

[Or that can be easily moved halfway across the world, or is worth the extra effort needed to do so. :)]

If I come up with awesome revelations or even vaguely useful ideas on the subject of the Itinerant Household, I'll follow up and post them!

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!

Please Mind the Gap

Someone once said that Great Britain and the United States are two nations divided by a common language. There are quite a few things here that are clearly different on first glance and others that are different in more subtle ways. But as the days go by, I'm growing more and more comfortable with the culture.

The first strange cultural experience I had was when our program provided us with a boxed lunch the first day (which my flatmates and I took over to Hyde Park for a picnic), which contained a bag of crisps (potato chips in the States). However, these were no ordinary crisps. They were "prawn cocktail" flavored crisps. After debating amongst ourselves what prawn cocktail was, we decided to be brave and try them anyway. I was pretty sure that prawns were shrimp (turns out I was right), and the crisps had a very, um, distinctive taste, like ketchup mixed with barbecue sauce along with something else that was kind of spicy/tangy mixed in there. We were brave enough to try them, but not quite brave enough to actually finish off the bag. Since then, I've noticed an abundance of prawn- or prawn cocktail-based dishes on menus all over London. What is it with these people and their shrimp??? It would probably have been a more positive (though less amusing) experience if I were fond of shrimp to begin with...

One of the most obvious differences between the States and Great Britain (and the British Cultural Fact Of The Day for this post) is that they drive on the left side of the road (and the steering wheels are consequently on the right side of the vehicles). Any Brit will argue that they drive on the correct side of the road, and I've had at least one or two joking debates with British individuals about whether the British or the rest of the world is right about this. This directional difference adds another level of hazard to crossing busy city streets. However, as if in condescension to the rest of the world who drive on the "incorrect" side of the street, the Brits have kindly labeled the sidewalks at crossings with helpful reminders like Look Right--> or <--Look Left to prevent us from checking the wrong direction out of habit and walking blithely out in front of an oncoming taxi. Turns out that the exhortation to "Look both ways before crossing the street" like we were told when we were little really can save you from being run over here! Speaking of getting run over, I've had several close calls myself. Day one, I nearly got hit by a cyclist. Not a motorcyclist, but a regular peddling cyclist. He was not about to stop, and I accidentally walked out in from of him, then jumped back just in time. Next day, the same thing happened with a double-decker bus. In addition to those instances (and other similar ones), I think the reminders on the crosswalks have probably saved my life on a number of occasions.

Speaking of transportation, I've been quickly getting used to the public transportation. The Tube (London Underground System) is extremely efficient and relatively easy to navigate. I wish we had one like it in the Greater St. Louis area--I would definitely use it! It's also an interesting example of little differences between British and American English, like "Mind the gap [between the train and the platform]" instead of "Watch your step" and "Way Out" signs instead of "Exit" signs. As an extension of the Tube system, the buses here are also useful. Some British buses are double-decker ones, like this picture:
I can, for example, navigate from my flat in central London all the way to the South Bank of the Thames and not have to make more than a few blocks of it on foot. It's pretty impressive how efficient and problem-free the system usually is, especially considering that there are approximately 7 million people living in London, and approximately an additional 1 million commuters and tourists on any given weekday. It's truly one of the most impressive things about this amazing city!