I have been pondering what to write for my first blog in Germany. I want to write before all of these experiences mold together and I forget specifics. As an International Worker going to Germany, we had to raise the money we needed to work and live here and with that comes many, many wonderful people who have donated so that we can be here! I grew up in a Christian community and therefore have a few ideas of what an international worker's life should be.
#1- They have to suffer. Probably be very sick for a long period of time and miserable for the rest. After all, they are doing the Lord's work.
The problem is, I'm struggling to find things to be miserable about.
I walk into the living room and one young man is trying out Kung Fu on another. I sit in the hall monitoring the first study hour and a young man sits beside me on the floor to read his mystery novel, then an hour later pulls out a plastic gun that he had in his pocket the whole time, just because. When the book is later lost, he becomes Sherlock Holmes and retraces his steps. I am living in the most gorgeous little village I've ever seen, with the church bells bringing in every half hour and the green hills enveloping the dorm. Ping pong is happening all the time. We move into our apartment on the third floor of a house that is 150 years old and I get to name the rats that are making their (I'm sure) lovely house in the wall beside our bed (Tarzan and Jane by the way). I'm driving three seniors up the hill and we sing Michael Buble as loud as we can. The first day Jordan and I are asked by a Freshman if we are siblings and Jordan grabs me and kisses me, the poor guy stares in shock then relaxes when we tell him we're married. I learn to drive a 9 passenger van through narrow streets that were built around houses and trees. France is an afternoon trip for school supplies. I make cappuccino cookies. I last about 3 minutes in the gym playing dodge ball with 26 men, then run screaming for cover. Laundry is now work...what? It used to be something I did for fun. We marvel at being a part of a community, finally.
For those who think that International Workers do indeed need to suffer all the time to make an impact, I could comfort you with things that we have gone through as well. My dear Uncle Lauren passed away when we had been here a week. It's hard to mourn around people I have just met, while being in the town my Uncle grew up in. He was so much a part of why we came here and I see him everywhere I look. He was the fourth family member to die in a little over a year and heaven is looking sweeter now then it ever did. And I can't help but hear his laugh if I told him my fear that people will think we're not being useful if we're having a good time, he would laugh and then ask if I've been eating enough chocolate, and have I started liking coffee yet? I ought to start liking coffee.
Loss happens even in the most beautiful of havens.
These 23 young men are why I'm here and here happens to be in the middle of God's beauty and grace. I've come home.
