Why I don't like the phrase: "God's Call"

Before we applied to BFA I wondered if we needed to sense a very clear and spiritual call from God before moving ahead. Something more specific than having a long-held desire to live in Germany, the ability and passion for teaching, and our applications being accepted. Aren't missionaries supposed to have a "call"?! I envisioned that call as a moment I could point to...perhaps a prophetic word from someone during a church service, or an intense time of prayer where it became so clear that God wanted us in Germany.

But it never came. So we decided to move forward one step at a time. First we would apply; then we would raise support; then we would work on putting our lives in Colorado on hold. We prayed and sought guidance throughout the process, trusting that if God wanted to stop us, he certainly could. He never did, and now we find ourselves in Germany.

I don't want to put up a front with our supporters, friends, or people who read our blog by labeling our time here as "God's call" so that they feel good about giving. I don't want to guilt anyone into supporting us by implying that without their help we couldn't obey God and come to Germany and do his work. Because God doesn't actually need us to accomplish his work in Germany. He does, however, graciously let us participate, and because the missionaries here raise their own salaries, he lets so many others participate along with us. I can't tell you what a surprising blessing that has been. (More on that in an upcoming post.)

I do believe God led us here, and I believe we're living within his will. I know for sure that he made it possible for us to be here--too many things had to come together perfectly, and they did. But saying that God called us here feels like it implies that if we were still in Denver, working our old jobs, going to Fellowship church, that we would not be where he called us-that we would be outside his will. And I don't think that's true.

Just like God gave me a choice in marrying Jordan, (i.e. He didn't write it in the clouds.) he gave us a choice in coming to BFA. We could have stayed in Denver and served him there. We could have gone to India, or England, or China and served him there. Or maybe God called us to BFA because he already knew this is what we would choose. (Yikes, this is sounding dangerously close to my high school youth group discussions about predestination vs. freewill.) The point is, I believe God has called us to live and love the way Jesus did wherever we are. And yes, sometimes he does "write it in the clouds". We know he told Jonah to go to Ninevah, and I believe God does call some people that way-very clearly. I just don't believe every choice has a clear yes or no from God. I believe, more often than not he says, "You choose".

Jeremiah 29:11 messed me up a bit. At least my interpretation of it did. I still love the assurance it brings that God has good plans for his people, but for a long time I was so focused on his "plan" that I was distracted from God himself. I felt and acted as if God had the blueprints for my life hidden in a vault somewhere and it was my job to find them. So I made lists of pros and cons, I prayed, sometimes I even fasted. I hemmed and hawed. None of those things are bad-they are probably wise, but I did them with a spirit of fear. I was afraid I would make the wrong decision. Afraid I'd never know God's plan. Afraid I'd somehow miss it if I closed my eyes. And I think most of the time, God was right there smiling at me, saying, "Kate, what do you want to do?" (This obviously does not apply to a choice like, "God, should I do drugs or not?" but to choices that reflect a life living the way he's called us to live.)

 

Today I'm much less concerned with where God has called me than I am with how God has called me to live. Goodness, it's hard enough to let my life display patience, kindness and self-control without keeping one eye open all the time, watching for my "call".

So right now, that means that I am called to live and love like Jesus in Germany. Last year, I was called to do that in Denver. I believe that where I am and what I'm doing don't matter nearly as much as who I am doing it for and how I am doing it.

Guilt

I feel a little guilty here.

I've come to Germany as a missionary, and right now it feels like I'm on vacation! I know I'll be teaching soon, but even then, I still get to live in a place I love so much! Doesn't everyone wish they could do this? Why do I get to? I've been wrestling with these questions. Yesterday the new staff went on a picnic to a beautiful spot along the Rhine river. As we munched on sandwiches and chips, I asked the group sitting with us, "Does anyone feel like a missionary yet?" They all laughed, but I was only half joking.

Part of why I have felt guilty is because I see a lot of deep hunger in the world that I am not helping to meet here in Germany. Children are dying from lack of food and clean water; babies are being abandoned...while I'm picnicking on the Rhine. It's a sobering thought. While I don't fully understand why or have the answer, a quote from Frederich Buechner brings some clarity.

"The place God calls you to

is the place where your deep gladness

and the world’s deep hunger

meet.”

Yes, there are sick people, and starving children, and war torn countries. Those atrocities should break our hearts the way I'm sure they break God's. This sounds almost calloused, and I want to tread carefully, but meeting those needs is not my deepest passion.  And I don't think that's an excuse to ignore those needs, but a freedom to move toward what God has placed on my heart. My deep gladness comes from teaching, and that is one of the biggest needs here at BFA. And maybe I'm teaching and equipping kids who will someday help to meet the needs of those dying of hunger or disease.

There is much more to say about "the place God calls you" but I'll save it for another post.

neuntausendneunhundertneunendneunzig

That's a real German word.

 

It means 9,999.

 

 

Here is Jordan studying hard in language class.

 

This post is really just to tied you over till the next post, since it's been a while. And to ask you to pray for me since I have a weird rash on my neck. We think it might be from the mold in our washing machine that Jordan discovered after I washed my pillowcase. (TMI? Sorry.)

 

Thanks!

 

More to come soon... 

Our New Home

 
 In and around Kandern.

The "Cos-on-Air" internet store across the street from our apartment.

 

 Much of Kandern is under construction right now because of the infamous "100 year flood". Though no one is sure if last year's flooding was the official flood or if it's still coming. Yikes!

 Hieber's is one of the two grocery stores in Kandern.

 

 

 Overlooking Kandern from the war memorial. Can you spot the "Cos-on-Air" store on the right side, above the river? Our apartment is across the street on the right, behind some buildings.

 Meet Bessie. This fall we are going to eat her.

 

It's a banner year here in Kandern, Mom!

 

 

View from our front window.

 

 

Behind this gate, you can see our barn.

 Two pictures on the right show the views to the

right and left of our porch.

 

 

Bedroom window

Bedroom



Bathroom and laundry

Being Real

That is one of my goals for this blog: being real.

Because I think that's important. And way more interesting.

 

I love taking pictures.

They are a great tool to share our life with loved ones who are far.

But pictures can be dangerous.

Pictures can make life look perfect.

 

 

So I have been making an effort, not only to document the beautiful, breathtaking, and happy moments we've had, but also the dull, dreary, and lame moments.

 

I'm probably not going to post pictures of us sorting trash from recycling, spending too much time on facebook, or trying to calculate how many grams of butter I need for a recipe that calls for two sticks. Because that's just boring, and I'd rather sort trash than upload unnecessary pictures.

 

 

But I do want to use both pictures and words to convey that our life is real. There are ups and there are downs. (Remember the seesaw?) There is beauty and there is ugliness.

 

When looking at someone else's photos, or even looking back on my own, I need to remind myself of the sweat and the bugs and the anxiety and the headaches. I need to see past the gorgeous scenery and smiling faces and remember that life is real. Those moments were great, but they weren't perfect. And while God is working in the beauty, he's also working in the sweat and the bugs and the anxiety and the headaches.

 

So that's my disclaimer for the following. Here is our bike/hike in photographs:

The Black Forest.



The paved bike path ended unexpectedly. Left with only his bike shoes,
Jordan hiked 3 miles in (my) socks.

Ultimately, he felt it was worth it.

These are the ruins of the Sausenburg Castle built in 1120.

 



Insert bugs, sweat, and mild anxiety. But also fun!

 Overlooking the village of Sitzenkirch, where I will teach middle school.

The French Mountains in the distance.

 

 

Tomorrow I will post (real) pictures of Kandern and our apartment!

Purple Toilet Paper

At one of our first orientation sessions we talked about cultural differences between the U.S. and other countries. The speaker commented that our tendency as Americans is to think that the way we do things in the states is the right way or the best way. We were encouraged not to think of cultures in terms of right or wrong, good or bad, but to think of them as different. So, in America when you go to the store for toilet paper you can find any type that suits your preference: single ply, double ply, double rolled, triple rolled, ridged, quilted, double quilted, moisturizing, or aloe infused. You’ve got Angel Soft, Cotton Soft, Envirosoft, Ultra Soft, Ultra Strong, Extra Strong, and Northern Strong. There are teddy bears, grizzly bears, puppies and babies. But it is all always white. In America, white TP reigns supreme. Because, as we all know, white is the right color, the best color for wiping. In Germany…there is purple. Purple toilet-paper. This is what I found the bathroom of our apartment. Have you ever seen colored toilet paper before? Up until this point in my life, I had never even considered that toilet paper could come in any other color besides white. Because white is the best color, the true color for TP, right? This is a question I have been wrestling with for days! My world has been turned upside down.

So what is the answer? Which is better - white or purple? I have come to realize and accept that I myself am partial to white but really one is not better than the other. The answer is they are just different.

I am finding there are many things that I enjoy about the German culture and other things that I do not. The purple toilet paper is a perfect example of how I am being challenged to view German culture as different and not wrong.  The better we can assimilate into German culture the more impactful our witness of the gospel will be to the German people.

1 Corinthians 9:19-23

Jesus Calling

Shortly after I wrote that last post about feeling like my life was a seesaw going back and forth between feeling overwhelmed and excited, I came across this in Jesus Calling:

"Relax in My healing, holy Presence.  Allow Me to transform you through this time alone with Me. As your thoughts center more and more on Me, trust displaces fear and worry. Your mind is somewhat like a seesaw. As your trust in Me goes up, fear and worry automatically go down."

Two things really stood out to me:

1. Seesaw does not have a dash. (I might as well put it out there right now that I am very self-conscious about making grammar mistakes in this blog. After all, I am here to teach grammar. And this blog makes me feel unqualified. So please forgive (or gently point out) any mistakes you note). Ahh, which side does that period go on?? Ahh, not supposed to end a sentence with a preposition!

2. It is up to me to make sure my thoughts are centered on Jesus. I'm not automatically going to think peaceful, trusting thoughts. I automatically think thoughts like, "I'm sure that noise was a murderer in the house," or "This ache in my side must mean I'm dying of a dreadful disease." My sister-in-law tells me that's called 'catastrophizing' and I'm very good at it. I need to take the time to pray and journal and meditate on scripture in order to center my thoughts on trusting Jesus.

P.S. I absolutely love Jesus Calling by Sarah Young and everyone I know that has read it does too. (Girls at least). You should really just go order yourself a copy right now.

Overwhelmed

This morning we woke up to our second full day in Kandern. I still can't believe this is really happening. It feels very surreal. The days seem to go up and down like a see-saw...equal parts exciting and overwhelming.

Exciting:

Our first trip to the grocery store went well! We decided going into it that if we left with food, we would consider it a success. I was so proud that I found almond milk. It made me feel like I could decipher German...never mind the picture of a creamy liquid flowing from almonds on the box. Jordan found some cereal called "White Flakes" and I couldn't stop laughing. Doesn't that sound so gross? I think it's the German version of Frosted Flakes, but it sounds more like dandruff or dead skin to me.

Exciting:
Meeting lots of nice gals at a get-together at the apartment of a fellow BFA staffer and neighbor.

Overwhelming:
The plethora of baskets in our house. We've found 15 so far.

Note several of said baskets above the cabinets

Overwhelming:
The clock on the stove (and every other digital clock) that tells me it's 15:28.

Exciting:
It's so beautiful here. The town is charming and the hills surrounding Kandern's valley are covered in lush, green trees.

Overwhelming:
It turns out that jet-lag is a very real thing. It feels nearly impossible to get out of bed in the morning. And when I finally do get up, I feel like I'm dragging my body through water. Several times Jordan and I realized we were both just sitting and staring into space when we were supposed to be unpacking or cleaning.

Overwhelming:
We registered at the town hall and ordered a trash can. A very small trash can. And then they told us they would pick it up once a month. A month?! We were not to be alarmed because most items can be recycled. Just look for the special symbol on plastics and aluminum. (I haven't figured out what that symbol looks like yet). But bring your plastic bottles back to the grocery store. And paper cannot go in the regular recycle. You have to take that somewhere else only opened on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays...or something like that. And glass goes somewhere else. All that to say, it's quite complicated. Every time I go to throw something out, I stop and think...which can?? So I have a pile of questionable trash next to the sink. I did not know throwing away trash could take so much energy.

It seems that this metaphorical see-saw is weighed down a little more on the overwhelming side right now. I think that's to be expected at this point, though. Hopefully, things will be more balanced after we are settled and the jet-lag wears off.

And finally, here are some shots of the refurbished barn in which we live:

 

 

 

 

Airport

These were some thoughts about our journey I wrote while waiting for Jordan to find our lost bag:

 



 I felt that we had left the USA as soon as we stepped up to the ticket counter in the international terminal of Chicago O'hare. The British woman helping us was rather cold. She did not smile as she let our overweight bags go through without a fee. Perhaps it was because Jordan asked her to switch the scale from kilograms to pounds. And when we entered the security line I was immediately immersed in a combination of smells that would have been horrid enough if encountered alone much less all at once. (I will not pretend that I shower every day, or even every other day, but suddenly my standards of cleanliness seemed very high compared to what I was encountering).

Amidst the strange and unfamiliar sounds, sights and smells, I found comfort in what was familiar. Seeing 'Kimberly Clark' on the toilet paper dispenser in the London airport calmed me, even though the toilet paper came out one ply at a time as though it were some sort of thin, low-quality tissue. Another familiar name, ThyssenKrupp, was marked on the jetway, a name permanently engraved in my mind since freshman year of college living on the 7th floor with a ThyssenKrupp elevator to transport me up and down multiple times a day. I never imagined seeing that name would be so comforting. Suddenly the banana, now mushed nearly brown in my suitcase, seemed like a precious commodity. Not because I couldn't find bananas in Germany, but because it came from my home.

Somehow when I imagined living abroad I pictured myself embracing newness and finding fascination in the differences. Yet my focus, at least initially, seems to be in discovering the similarities that make me feel like I could possibly still be in America.

All of this is not to say that I haven't discovered wonderful and charming aspects of life abroad (and I haven't even left the airport!) (So maybe it doesn't count). But how cute is it that the British call sandwiches toasties and serve porridge instead of oatmeal??  Also, in the bathrooms (at least in the airport) there is a button on the floor to step on and flush. And I thought Americans were the ones averse to germs! It's brilliant. I'd like one in my home. And while I did miss seeing baseball fields from the airplane, castles really are much cooler.

Auf Wiedersehen darlings!

Hello again!
 I promise I haven't forgotten about the blog. In fact, I've often felt the pangs of guilt as I told some of you, "Oh yes, we have a blog! Well...I've only written twice so far..." If any of you have ever asked me to send you pictures in the past, you know I'm really good at taking lots of them, but not so good at getting them from the camera and onto the computer and into an email for you. So this blogging thing might be a challenge.

You may be wondering where we are right now since we had originally planned on leaving for Germany August 1st. Well, plane tickets were much cheaper on August 5th and so on Monday we will go! Since I last wrote, we've been visiting lots of family. Here are some picture highlights of the last month...

Terrill Family reunion in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin

 Even though the cousins are all grown up we still had so much fun together.
We also still managed to strand ourselves on a boat in the middle of the lake at midnight.
Our parents rescued us.
(Special thank you to Tom Terrill and Jim Long).

We also celebrated my sweet grandmother Nannie's 80th birthday.
What fun to celebrate and honor such a godly, kind, generous, and thoughtful woman.

Downtown Chicago for our anniversary.

The city stresses me out.

Thankfully, I had earplugs in my purse.

It's tough being a highly sensitive person.

We did end up having fun...

And we got some public transportation practice on the L!

 North Myrtle Beach, SC

My cute niece, Lila!

Dinner with Becky (Jordan's Mom) and Jeremiah

(I know, you thought that was Jordan at first). 

Having this lovely lady as my sister-in-law was a huge perk of marrying Jordan.

She is wonderful and amazing. I wish you all could go on a road-trip with her.

And a note about said road trip: At one point we drove by "Puddin' Swamp Road".

No g. Just an apostrophe. How I love South Carolina.







 All good hang-outs seem to happen in the kitchen, don't they?

Next we flew to Cleveland for Annie's wedding. Well, we flew halfway to Cleveland and then the pilot said we had to turn around because of a problem with the landing gear. They also said not to be alarmed, but we needed to assume the brace position for an emergency landing. And not to panic, but there would be fire engines racing alongside us as we landed. I panicked. Jordan was brave. We were fine and we did fly to Cleveland again (in a different plane) and that time we made it!

There's really nothing like old college friends.

You wish you were a PBA sailfish, don't you?

And back to Lake Bluff...

We've had a lot of fun with these two:



 This was right after Dad stole the punch-line to Mom's story.

 The Terrill family loves a good garden walk.

Especially if there are free cookies!

 

So that was our whirlwind of a summer. If you got through all of that, thank you for bearing with me. It's late, and I when I write at night it usually sounds a lot better to me when I'm tired than it does in the morning. I'm just hoping it's also late when you are reading this.

 

Support update: We've raised 95% of our support and are incredibly grateful to so many of you who have contributed. Thank you, thank you, thank you, for making our work with the students at Black Forest Academy possible. Please pray for safety and peace on our flight Monday night. (No landing gear problems, or turn-arounds mid-flight). We have a lay-over in London and will arrive in Germany at about 6 pm Tuesday night.

 

See you in Germany!

 

Auf Wiedersehen!