Courageous Faith

Escaping to the good ol' blog to work some things out from this morning's quiet time.

Bold faith-- what the heck does that mean? And do I have what's considered 'bold faith?' The father I read about this morning in Mark is a daddy distraught with his son's seizures who desperately turns to Jesus as a last-resort to heal his son. Except Jesus is out chilling on a mountain with some of his buds and the dad gets the leftover disciples who botch the job and can't heal the son.

Can you imagine what it was like for that dad, when the disciples were repeatedly trying to heal him and nothing was happening? I bet he was ultimately defeated and embarrassed beyond belief. I bet it took a lot of courage to even bring yourself to this man you'd heard about, all the while keeping in the back of your mind the possibility of it not working. And then you looking like a fool in front of your community when nothing happens?

Fortunately Jesus comes back down the mountain in the knick of time, sees the now-arguing crowd (the pharisees decided to get in on the mockery of the disciples) all the while I can imagine the dad just sitting there like a deflated balloon having given up on the idea of there even being a God at all. 

He miserably cries to Jesus, "If you can do anything, take pity on us and help us." 

Jesus is all like, "IF?! I'm freaking Jesus, dude."

And I love the dad's response. He quick to say, "HECK YES! I believe!!" then he kind of retracts his statement and admits, "Well, help me to overcome my unbelief..."

At this point I'm not really sure where I was going with this, because it started off as an attempt to explore what it means to have a courageous faith but in actually, the distraught daddy understandably had a faith riddled with doubts and questions. I mean, who wouldn't, when you're standing by watching your child suffer his whole life, a human being whom you would gladly trade places with? But also, I think it took courage to even go see Jesus in the first place, having the hope that maybe He could finally be the one who would heal his son for good. 

All this to say, I pray that God would give me a faith that is bold and without fear.

It's a beautiful, chilly day outside and it's time to get out of the house. May you explore today your doubts and questions and pursue the meaning of this life and what it means to love our God without holding anything back!

a day on the Rhine

So, I'm officially "employed."

Two days a week I'll make the 45 minute trek out to Wiesbaden to tutor three of the cutest boys ever in piano and english. It's pretty much just what I was asking for... God is so good. Even if He hadn't provided this gig, I'd still attest to His awesomeness Just check out these pictures from our spontaneous adventure up the Rhine river:

The best part about exploring the Rhine is that you can hop on and off the train wherever you feel like. Which is what we did, first randomly stopping in St. Goarhausen. Being a Sunday, it was dead. I mean, completely empty, narrow streets; we felt like we owned the town. It was a unique experience, not to be surrounded by other tourists.

We hopped back on and decided to ride all the way to the top (Koblenz,) despite my prostrations of it being a lame city. Annie and I had attempted to check out this larger town on the Rhine but decided that it wasn't worth it, hopping back on the train after about 45 minutes of riding our bike to the river and back. (We were looking for vineyards, which weren't to be found...)

But, I stand corrected. Within this new context, it was actually lovely. We had a delicious German meal, saw where the Mosel and Rhine rivers meet, and did some shopping (T.K.Maxx!! Sooooo excited to find out that Germany has the British version, which is as close as I'm going to get to HomeGoods while here. And there's one in Frankfurt!)

Darkness falls early now as opposed to the 10:00 pm summer sunsets. We weren't sure if we should continue our journey or head home, but we decided to stop at Bacharach in search of wine. It ended up being my favorite part of the day and a town that I will absolutely return to with my momma in the daytime.

Again, we had the town to ourselves as we meandered through the streets, dreaming of what it would look like covered in snow.

We discovered cathedral ruins, which given the time of night, gave off an eery glow hovering over the town. A quiet moment was shared as we stood gazing out over the soft lights of the buildings, a train quietly working it's way along the river on the other side that made us feel transplanted right into one of those miniature Christmas scenes.

And then there was wine, 15 small glasses worth to taste and pretend like we knew how to distinguish between them all. My notes included the descriptions "pink, sweet, really sweet, ugh, buy this."

Days like this should occur at least once a week. 

mas patatas bravas, por favor

Be still my heart.

There is something about Barcelona that gets to you. 

 A mix of elderly men & women meandering the streets and sharing drinks & patatas bravas in the local pub, while the next establishment is full of surfer-hipsters (is that such a thing?) from all over the world who've found a home within it's narrow streets. 

Our AirBNB Apartment on the 5th floor was a quiet haven providing a glimpse into local life. Mouth-watering smells wafted from nearby open windows, women stood gossiping in the corridors while squeals of children were heard from their respective flats. 

But at night, all was still despite being in the middle of the liveliest part of the city.

Having previously visited twice, the main sights were checked off and all we wanted to do was eat. And good, sweet Lord did we eat!

It was wonderful to connect with our dear friends Byron and Lauren  whom we've known for practically half our lives by now. They graciously allowed us to crash their honeymoon since we were unable to make it stateside for their gorgeous wedding in St. Auggie. Having previously visited twice, the main sights were checked off and all we wanted to do was eat. And good, sweet Lord did we eat.

We spent time exploring Parc Gruell with its famous Gaudi mosaics,  overjoyed at the fact that we were actually hot and possibly about to be sunburned (okay, maybe that was just me.)

 Drank sangria and people watched at Barceloneta beach, which brings back memories of jumping off rocks when the water was warm last summer and Alex being stung (impaled?) by a sea urchin. 

Took the funicular up to Montjuic (which was anticlimactic, to be honest,) then laughed harder than we have in a while on our 'hike' down (aka how the heck do you get down this thing?) We knew it was time to hail a taxi when Byron began shouting and kicking leaves in a hilariously delusional need-more-sangria state. 

Maybe Barcelona is special to me because it was one of the stops on my first European invasion, freshly graduated from high school and with my dearest friends traveling the world. It was on this trip that I gained a bit of independence and realized that nothing would ever be the same. 

I need to see the world. As much as I can. Ready, go. 

It was in Barcelona that I figured out the bus system with another friend as we made our way down to the beach. We probably weren't meant to do so, but figured we weren't necessarily told NOT to...

 And for some reason, I felt so cool, so grownup for having done so.  

Add Barcelona to your bucket list. And when you've finally arrived, don't be surprised at how easily you assimilate to the lifestyle, arriving at the restaurant after midnight to be seated for dinner (and make sure one of those restaurants is Paco Meraldo.) 

Consume tapas like it's your job.

And make sure you've invited me to come play as well!

A Week's Worth

Skimming through pictures this morning from last week, as I apparently took a hiatus from Instagram. Isn't it funny how you can feel a certain way about something, but then look back and realize that it was better than you're making it out to be? Last night, when my emotional barometer indicated low pressure and life was full of cupcakes and rainbows, I thought, "I sure am glad that this week is OVER." It took the slightest thing to set me off into a pit of despair... like yesterday afternoon when I felt like the walls of our tiny apartment were closing in on me and nothing could be done to bring joy back into the world.

So we went on a bike ride. As soon as we hit the woods, the cloud of lame sadness lifted and I felt more myself. Except when I saw a lab who was loving life in the river. That made me choke up. 

Anyways, the whole point of my tangent is that sure, parts of last week sucked. But really only the parts where I allowed myself to wallow in a sadness that is unnecessary and not linked to anything substantial or worth griping about. 

And judging from my iPhone pictures, it was actually filled with really wonderful people and experiences:

Family Dinner night-- Wii bowling and takeout curry (!!)

Bringing home carrots.. in my carrot grocery bag...

Scrabble Thursday complete with delicious cakes and wine

Fashion Friday-- We found a tiny pony!

And some cool hats.

Shameless Selfie going out picture-- Bought this dress in Florida last winter, actually blow dried my hair, went to a bar that looked like a haunted castle.. it was a fantastic night!

Flea market treasures-- a new bike, an awesome old trunk for the Mondons, knit booties for Mike. The fun part was walking the trunk through the streets of Frankfurt...

I introduce to you... Hercules!! This bike's living upstairs with us so it won't get stolen. 

The highlight of the week was Saturday night, when everyone was invited over for a proper American "tailgate." We watched the Gator game in real time, ate burgers and grilled jalapeño poppers, had a mini-keg... it was glorious!

But the real fun came when Sophie and Paul brought over a meter of Super Dickmans, chocolate covered marshmallow fluff with the best name ever.

I kid you not, there was a game suggested on the back of the box where you blindfold someone, spin them, then they have to seek out a Super Dickman to eat. 

Can you only imagine the hysterics and crude jokes that lasted for a good hour or so?! 

Forever scarred into my brain. 

They MOVED the Dickmans so I would lick the table! Rude. 

The sun's out, the weather promised 70 degrees tomorrow, I have mahjong to look forward to and we're going to Barcelona to see Byron and Lauren on Wednesday. 

I'm a happy girl!

insert witty title here

Everything's been slightly off-kilter this week. Not sure what it is... perhaps an onslaught of a change-of-weather blues?

It's hard to explain. Our tiny apartment has random items strewn carelessly about. A suit that Mike wanted me to take to the cleaners two days ago. A deliciously written book and an almost-done scarf waiting patiently on the coffee table... yet I can't pick them up to finish either? I haven't had cream in the fridge for two days now, which means I'm drinking my coffee black. I hate black coffee.

The hubs comes home from work and I feel so disconnected-- him, tired from a day at work. Me, restless and wanting to talk, connect, something. I don't know. This expat life can be so peculiar at times, a roller coaster ride of sorts where the weekends are in full swing and we're looping around, squealing wildly feeling that rush of "Holy-crap-this-life!!" Weekdays take over, and if one's not careful, it's easy to slide into old habits and thoughts (What am I doing with myself? You suck.)

Sorry for the negativity; I'm not complaining. Absolutely not. Just muddling my way through why I'm feeling the way that I am.

On a different note, spur-of-the-moment woods walks work wonders (like that alliteration? You're welcome.) The moments where I'm feeling the lowest are when I receive a random "Let's go for a walk" text and I know it's a gentle reminder that I was not created to be alone or to wallow around feeling sorry for myself for reasons I can't decipher.

 Catching leaves out of the sky is good luck, right?

This tree pees when you get close to it. German humor. 

A beefsteak mushroom? Looks like flesh. I almost vomited. 

Foraging for walnuts

picking my first apple ever!

Leaving this couch and vowing not to return to it today, until this evening when I will snuggle up next to Mike to catch up on our American shows. Baked potato soup is on the menu tonight.

I refuse to allow myself to feel sad and lonely today. That is all :)