One cup of FroYo

I’m hesitant to write this article at all because I do not want it to come across as “I’m good. Look at the good things I’ve done. See how obedient I am to the Lord. Look at me.” Because that is most certainly not what I am trying to say. Quite the opposite actually.  I want to write this article just to say how great my precious Savior is.  How he can use a wretch like me and how he alone can make beauty from the ashes.  And, I also want to speak to the power of generosity–a practice that is unnatural to our selfish human nature, and has become nearly extinct in our communities.

This topic has been on my heart because my grandparents have recently started discussing the concept of sharing with me.  You might be thinking, “Sarah Beth, you’re 21. You should have learned about sharing in kindergarten.  This is not a new concept”.  And yes, that is true.  I did learn about sharing in kindergarten after I popped one of my classmates on the leg with a Lincoln Log because she took it from me and I didn’t want to share it with her.  I needed that last log to finish the house I was building because my house was more important than the house she was building.  I learned pretty quickly that not sharing will get you in time out.

But, my grandparents have been talking to me about sharing in a radical way…in a counter-cultural way.  They have been asking me to share my…wait for it…MONEY.  Can you believe that?  My hard earned money!  It is my money anyways, isn’t it?  Why would they even consider asking me to share it with other people who could make their own money if they worked hard like me?

I want to tell you a story of the power of generosity and the power of being available to share even when it involves more than just words and time.  A young boy approached me at a frozen yogurt shop.  He was 11.  I was with two other friends.  We were sitting in three multicolored rocking chairs right outside the shop when this barefoot boy with tattered jeans walked up and put his hands out together in a cupped position. He didn’t say words at first, he just looked at us. He looked at my other two friends first as they avoided eye contact with him.  I wanted so badly for him to leave so that I didn’t have to look at him.  I didn’t have anything to offer him and I felt bad. But once he looked at me, I looked back up at him and we made eye contact for what felt like 10 minutes.

My heart was breaking more and more with each passing second because I could see Jesus in him.

Then I remembered some cash that I had stuck in a side pocket of my purse. I knew I didn’t have much to offer, but I wanted to give all that I had.  I asked him if he was hungry. He put his hands down behind his back and nodded his head once.

“Would you like some frozen yogurt” I asked.

He nodded again, still yet to speak.

I walked with him inside. “Grab a cup”, I said, “and pick out a flavor.” He got the smallest cup there was and handed it to me.  He pointed to chocolate.  I assumed he didn’t know how to use the yogurt machine, so I just filled it up for him.

“What’s your name?” I asked him.

“Damien” he responded.

“How old are you?” I asked while gesturing to different toppings as he pointed to the ones he wanted.

“Eleven.”

“Where’s your family?” I asked, curious but also hoping I wasn’t pressing too much.

“My brothers are at a friend’s house. They’re younger. My dad left a few months ago and my mom has been looking for work all week and we haven’t seen her. She told us to stay with grandma, but grandma doesn’t have enough food to feed all three of us so she told us to go on.”

It took me a minute to catch my breath because I felt like crying right that minute.  There it was.  His story.  His heartbreaking story.  In all my life, I’d never experienced that kind of desperation.  Not anything close to that kind of tragedy.  And I didn’t even want to look at him when he approached me outside the shop.  Immediately, I wished I had more to offer him.  I wished that I could take food back to his siblings.  I wished that they could stay with me and I could give them a safe, warm bed.  I wanted so badly to do more than just offer him a cup of frozen yogurt.

We approached the register and he pulled some coins out of his pocket and offered them to me.

“Save them,” I told him, “I invited you to FroYo, this one’s on me.”

I asked him if there was anyway he could work.

“I’m looking for any kind of work, but most people won’t hire an eleven year old and I’m not really strong enough for construction,” he said.

People in the shop were beginning to take notice of us together.  It was obvious that we weren’t related and  I saw that he was beginning to feel the attention too.  I knew he was ready to leave.  Even though I wanted to talk to him more, I told him I would pray for him to find work and he expressed overwhelming gratitude for the frozen yogurt. As we walked back outside, I waved goodbye, wondering where he was actually going and whether or not he would make it safely there and if there would be any food for him and his siblings the next day.

This is one story of how the Lord softened my heart and gave me the privilege of sharing with another what wasn’t ever mine to begin with.  Nothing I have is my own.  It’s all His.  I want to use it all for Him.  Even the ability to give isn’t my own. It is only through Christ that I have the strength and desire to give to others.  We need to be more aware of where Christ is calling  us to give.  I want to challenge you to start sharing more.  Don’t share with expectation of return or recognition.  Share because it is what Christ would do and has done with us.  He has shared in our deepest pains and hurt so that we can share in His abundant joy, everlasting love and life eternal.  What a blessing it is to be reckoned worthy of sharing. I’m learning to trust in the Lord to take my meager offerings and use them to grow His kingdom.  For Him, nothing is impossible and I truly believe that even a cup of frozen yogurt can make a difference.  Let us not ever miss the opportunity to share with others, even if it is just a cup of frozen yogurt.

 

“Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.” Hebrews 13:16

I’ve nothing to offer

I have felt so overwhelmed by sadness from the recent tragedy in Orlando.  I’ve started to pray for the families and loved ones of those who lost someone and just felt my throat tighten because of the unbearable hurt, heartache and confusion they must be experiencing right now.  I’ve thought about the shooter and other terrorists who have similar motives and tried to sincerely pray for their eyes to be opened to the beauty of life and community and the Creator of it all, so that they too may experience the hope of His precious call. But still, I have felt deeply sorrowful, to the point of tears, as I try to understand, or rather, even think about the brokenness of our world.

What is it going to take for us to understand that blaming one another or blaming guns or blaming leaders solves nothing?  What is it going to take for us to realize that we are all broken people and that broken people will continue break other people?  What is it going to take for us to see that we are desperately in need of a Savior?

Call me an idealist, but I want so badly for there to be peace and love abounding.  I want less arguing and more laughter.  I want less debt and more giving.  I want less addictions and more surrender.  I wish I could just snap my fingers and eradicate all the world’s hunger, poverty and pride.  I wish there was no more war. I wish the world was safe enough and whole enough that we could trade in violence for hugs and handshakes.  Fortunately, for everyone else’s sake, God didn’t give me the finger-snappin’ power to fix the world.  He gave me something else to offer.  He’s given me the ability to pray and the ability to love.

Yet, sometimes I feel like my prayers are pointless and love is useless.

So how do we choose to pray and choose to love in a world that is full of fear, hatred, violence and abuse?  The only way that we can even begin to choose love is because of the divine love that surpasses any and all love we can offer.  That means we have to be in constant conversation (prayer…it’s just talking to Him!) with God asking him for the words to say because He is love and we cannot do love on our own accord.  Therefore, when our prayers feel pointless and our love feels useless, we must keep pressing on for the sake of our neighbors and our neighbors neighbors and the rest of the world…because if we don’t, who will?!

By continually choosing love amidst a culture of hatred and fear, even in the smallest ways (a smile, a handshake, a word of encouragement, a text, a moment of attention, a gift or a visit), we can offer true hope to our neighbors and our world.  Our decisions to do love will not instantly fix all the hurt, but even a little love done can be used by God to extend enough hope for others to accept an invitation to be made whole through the power of his glorious grace.

So, let’s give all we have to offer and stop the blaming, keep on praying and do more loving!

We love because he first loved us. 1 John 4:19

Thoughts on Easter

Almost a year has past since I’ve last blogged, but tonight as I sit on my sofa listening to the hum of the dishwasher and feeling the cool breeze of the fan, I feel invited to write.  In the past, writing has been a source of great reflection and contemplation for me.  It helps me to process all that is going on around me.  So, right now, I’m just processing what an eventful Easter I’ve had– from a wonderful church service to family lunch and photos.

I’ve identified two feelings in my heart:

1) I am feeling incredibly gracious.  In fact, I could cry just thinking about the long list of things I have to be grateful for.  I am overwhelmed by the sacrifice that Jesus paid on the cross and the miracle of His resurrection.  How awesome is it that I am chosen by a very real and risen Lord?

But 2) I am feeling not angry, or mad, but irritated.  I am crassly judgmental of all the people…”Christians”…who came to church today, but where were they two weeks ago–in fact, I haven’t seen them since Christmas.  And how could they even think about posting “He is Risen”…Do they even know what that means?

But now I ask myself–Do I even know what that means?  Do I really understand the implications that Jesus is risen, sin has no sting, the grave is defeated, Christ is the forever victor?…

No.

I don’t.

Presently, I don’t know what it means that Christ was fully human and fully divine and he was crucified, dead and buried and rose again on the third day.  I believe it, but I don’t totally understand it.  And quite honestly, the second feeling I was having has no place in my heart.  No good can come out of worrying about what people are doing or posting or even the real condition of their soul. I think this feeling stemmed from seeing everyone’s ‘Easter posts’ on social media.  I saw so many people who live contrary to the life Christ has called us to, a life of humble obedience to Him, posting family photos captioned “He is Risen”.  In my head, I remember seeing one photo and thinking, “Now what about your family even remotely exemplifies that Christ is risen and worth loving?”…

But who in the world am I to think that?…In fact, who am I that Christ would see me as worthy of any love at all? Any mercy? Any grace?

So, instead of judging them for coming to church, for coming to the place where Jesus calls us all, and instead of being petty about a photo and its caption, I should be praising Him for their presence and praying for their salvation and for their faith to be strengthened.

Yet, my vision is so restricted and it causes me to stumble. I get caught up in the insignificant and I forget the power of the Significant.  I want vision to see people and circumstances as God sees them.  I want to be gracious always.  I want to celebrate the resurrection every day because I know and believe that it is worth celebrating every day.  I want to not get frustrated about minor things.  I want to live in the light of His resurrection because I know that it is only by His life that I can receive abundant, everlasting life.  And, I know that He is forever faithful and true to his promises!

“He is not here for he has risen just as he said” [Matthew 28:6]

20 things I have learned from Mama Bear in my 20 years

4 more days here in Sevilla and I am torn between wanting to stay and wanting to go but today is especially hard. Today, I want to be home. Today, I want to hug my mama and tell her all the reasons why I love her. Sure, we can FaceTime and I can text her but for me it’s not the same. I’ve been thinking about how lucky I am to have my mama as my mama. And in my twenty years, I have learned so many things from her. Most of these things I did not learn by her telling me day and night, rather I learned them from watching her and seeing her live her life in a way that always put others first. There might be a few exceptions of things I have learned from her that are just good things to know but the majority are life lessons that have molded/(are molding) me into the person I am becoming/(want to be).

1) Lipstick.

For starters, it is essential. You can literally go from ratchet to red-carpet ready with the swipe of a little covergirl or Clinique–you choose your flavor. After so many years of defiance,  I finally have realized that a lil dab of lipstick can do a lot for this girl. Thank you for being southern & stubborn, Mama.

2) Ironing is a good thing. 

I will never take for granted freshly pressed clothes again. Before coming to Spain, if I picked out something to wear and it was wrinkly, I would put it back in my closet and pick something else to avoid the hassle of ironing. But now, after I haven’t had one item of clothing ironed for the past 4 months, I would like to iron a few shirts. And I am thankful my mom taught me how to iron even though it has taken me twenty years to appreciate it.

3) Keep reading. 

Reading is learning, it is communicating, it is growing. I am thankful to have my mama’s love for reading. She didn’t just teach me how to read (first grade phonics) but she taught me WHAT to read. I am thankful my mama taught me to love reading because reading opens doors to so much life.

4) The Word.

When I said she taught me WHAT to read, I meant she taught me to value the Word of God and to know it. She taught me that it is living and true and that IT is the true knowledge and guide for my life. The Word is the only way to live a life of meaning and depth and I have learned that by watching my mama invest her life in knowing the Word and walking it out.

5) Respect.

Yes ma’am, no ma’am, yes sir, no sir. Always without hesitation. It is important to always put others first. Mama taught me that one way to let them know you recognize and value them as a person is by respecting them. Obviously, that is not just by yes ma’am and no ma’am but that is a good start, especially south of the Mason Dixon.

6) Listen.

You have two ears, so use them! Maybe she doesn’t have advice for every topic under the sun but my mom can listen. She taught me that listening can be so much more powerful than speaking because the times when she maybe didn’t have advice for me and just let me talk for an hour and half were the times when I really had to reflect and think things through (not to mention, it was nice to feel important enough that she would spend over an hour of her evening neglecting every other responsibility to listen to my petty complaints and problems). BUT those were the times when I didn’t seek human affirmation or counseling but I had to got straight to the Source and actually wait for Jesus to speak.

7. Give.

Time. Money. Chocolate. CUPCAKES. Give it all. Nothing we have is our own. It’s always better to give than receive. Mama is the best giver I ever have known and she has impressed this into my being. I always want to give all that I can to others and even more importantly, my LIFE…daily, as a sacrifice to Christ.

8) Be joyful always. 

A lil smile can go a long way, just pull those cheeks up and show those pearly whites because we can share joy through our smiles. Thanks for always smiling mama. You are an encouragement to everyone around you.

9) Be where you are. 

You are in the classroom, be there. You are in the grocery store, be there. You are at a meal with a friend, BE THERE. Mama is never in a rush and I am so thankful for the way she values time and relationships. She taught me to be where I am when I am there because there is nothing more valuable that God has given us than the relationships and time we have with people.

9) Leftovers are a good thing.

Nuff said. Roast is ALWAYS better the second time around.

10) But, so is Chickfila.

Also self explanatory…But not the drive thru (unless you are going to a ballgame, in which case you grab a couple extra chickfila sandwiches to-go in case someone at the ball field hasn’t had dinner yet). So go in, sit down in the booth for two hours and enjoy each other’s company. There is nothing wrong with sitting there until they close it down.

11) Say something nice.

I can’t emphasize this enough but saying something nice (genuinely) can make new friends, restore old friends, or start an acquaintance with a stranger. Just be kind. It’s a whole lot easier than being mean, and life is more fun together when people are nice. My mama does this best. She always says the nicest things and means them from the bottom of her heart.

12) Work Hard.

In everything you do, do it well. Always be the hardest worker in your group. As it is said in the Alford household, “Work hard, study hard, go out like a light!”

13) Rest.

Naps are good and resting is important for working hard. No shame in chilling. Mama taught me that being still and resting is always a good thing, even when that looks like watching say yes to the dress in our jammies on Friday nights.

14) Make the little things special.

So you’re going to goodwill or shopping or to get your nails done…make it special! Mama always makes the little things special, which means she does the BEST job at making the big things really special (i.e. bdays). But the big things are big things because they don’t happen as regularly so making the small things special is important for having fun and just being happy!

15) Cooking is important. 

Wow…that was hard for me to write. My mama has tried getting me in the kitchen with her SOOO many times to learn how to cook and I always just said I would learn someday but ya know what… THAT SOMEDAY HAS COME. After living in Sevilla where the only thing I know how to make is oatmeal, I have decided that I should learn how to cook. I do love oatmeal, BUT I don’t think it was made to be eaten three times a day.

16) Be intentional.

Call people. Pray for them when you say you are going to pray for them. Send people texts to remind them you are thinking of them (mama is really good at this one!) and better yet, make plans to spend time with them! People are blessings. Show them that you love them and be intentional and available.

17) Honesty

Living a transparent life and being honest is the best way to live. When we share our brokenness, we can find healing and hope. Whether it was her honesty about my outfit choice (“you ready?” or “I have a brush if you need one”) or her honestly sharing her heart with me, mama has always shown me that honesty is important. I want to live my life with the same honesty and transparency as mama because she has taught me that brokenness is beautiful and when we are honest with ourselves and with each other, we grow deeper into the full life to which Christ has called us.

18) Age ain’t nothing but a number.

If you think you are old and wrinkly, then you probably are. My mama radiates youth and joy and beauty because she is fun and hip and she dances really good in the kitchen. So, be fun and laugh a lot and embrace every second of the day.

19) Not everyone is a BFF.

This might be a little strange, but mama has taught me that you can’t be close with everyone. Love everyone and be kind but living life with 100 million gazillion friends is impossible. Invest in the few that you are closest to. Wholeheartedly. I am thankful my mama invested in me and I am thankful I have been able to watch her invest in those closest to her.

20) Love is a choice.

Everyday we must choose to love. We must choose to love our families, our friends and of the most highest importance, we must choose to love Jesus. Love is not just an emotion, affection or feeling. Love is washing clothes without any approbation. Love is driving me to and from my activities for 16 years. Love is supporting me in everything I do (i.e. coming to my tennis matches even when they are 7 hours away). Love is giving away time in your morning to FaceTime me. Love is choosing to send me a good morning message JUST to remind me that you love me. My mama taught me that love is a choice. She showed me that choosing love is the best way to live because when we choose love, we choose life. Thank you Jesus that loving You is abandoning everything else and that choosing to love You is a step into freedom.

Thank you Jesus for a Mama who reflects You in everything she does and encourages and challenges me to love You and everyone around me more deeply.

People and Places

Every year there is a week long party in Sevilla called the Feria de Abril (April Festival). It’s basically dancing and dressing up in the appropriate Flamenco attire and enjoying the company of your closest friends and family. Just to give you an idea of how important this is here, I didn’t have school because of the Feria. So, I traveled to London and Paris this past week. It was the trip of a lifetime and I’m so incredibly thankful my parents could bless me with the opportunity to visit such enchanting cities.

I saw lots of beautiful buildings rich with history, tried different foods and saw firsthand two completely different cultures. I enjoyed the trip (never really realized how exhausting traveling could be!) Seeing things and places that I had learned about in history classes my whole life was extremely interesting and exciting for me. ie- The Palace of Versailles, The London Tower, The Cathedral of Notre Dame. I’ve mentally compared London and Paris and the things I liked better or more in each city. And the conclusion I have come to is that Sevilla is still my favorite. But, I don’t necessarily think it is because Sevilla is prettier, or because there is more history here or even that the food is better… 😉 although I still would say all those things are true.

Sevilla is my favorite because of the people. I have made relationships here that have changed me, given me more perspective, and made me (at least I hope) better. I’ve been loved so well here. These relationships are the things that really matter. While I loved traveling and experiencing all the new things that come with new places, I found myself ready to be back in Sevilla and missing my Sevilla family.

I’m so thankful for God’s thoughtfulness in giving us each other. I’m so thankful that he was creative and made this earth beautiful so we can enjoy and take care of it… but WOW at the beauty he gives us with the ability to love and be loved. These relationships are just so precious to me. I’ve found that the truly enchanting thing about a place is not the architecturally and historically iconic buildings. The truly enchanting thing about places are the relationships we make and the way we love one another in those places.

You have what kind of infection?

This week I think I’ve set some records.

Over the weekend I went to Lagos, Portugal (which is one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited). Every corner is postcard worthy. We explored caves and cliffs and lots of beaches. But, I wasn’t really feeling well all weekend so Monday before class, I went to the doctor. Turned out my not feeling well was strep throat and bronchitis. She told me to stay in the house until Wednesday and if I didn’t feel 100% Thursday to return. She prescribed an antibiotic and some other medicines to help with the pain and I seemed to be recouping.

Thursday rolled around and I still didn’t feel 100% so I went back to the doctor. She said the strep was better and the bronchitis was nearly gone but that I had also somehow gotten a sinus infection and a double ear infection. So she prescribed some more medicines and told me to stay in the house for the rest of the week (as if I wasn’t already going to stir crazy).

As soon as I got back home, I messaged Lidia to tell her that I was back at the house, not going to school and sick with “una infecccion de los oidos y una infeccion de senos”. I knew that infeccion de los oidos meant ear infection but I wasn’t sure how to say sinus infection so I looked it up on google translate. The translation said “infecccion de senos” so I just figured it was right and that sinus was a cognate. Little did I know senos is not sinus. That was a very poor translation on google’s part. Senos is actually breast/boob, however you want to say it….

SO what I really told my señora was that I had a double ear infection and a breast infection.

After I sent the message I went straight to sleep and when she replied to my message (extremely concerned because she thought I had a breast infection), I didn’t reply. This only made Lidia more worried so she called my school and asked them what to do about me. She was already imagining the worst. She told me she was certain I was going to die under her care. The director of the school knew I had a sinus infection and when Lidia called she and all of the other ladies in the office (I’m told) laughed endlessly. They clarified to Lidia that I didn’t have any trace of a breast infection and that what I meant to say was a sinus infection.

Needless to say everyone had a good laugh at my expense but there have also been several other things that transpired from my strep, bronchitis, ears and boob infection. I got to spend a week (literally) in the house. Resting. I liked to think that I take time to rest but this week I realized how restless I really am. Even being so sick I found it incredibly difficult to just be still. I’m thankful for this time because as awful as it was being on bedrest for a week, I had so much sweet time to spend with Jesus. The lessons I’ve been learning are simple. I’ve probably heard them in sermons and from friends and mentors a hundred times but it never came through my thick skull.

There are 3 things I want to note from my week long boob infection:

1) Being still is just as intentional as eating or speaking. Jesus wants us to be still so he can restore our spirit and show us the places where we are broken…because in the storm, in the noise of everyday life, we can’t see the shattered windows, the places in our life where sin has slowly crept in.

2) We never know how much we need Jesus, until he is all we have. Maybe that seems a little extreme for a sick week to say I didn’t have anything else when I had Lidia and friends taking great care of me, but there were hours in the house by myself where I felt lonely and the only one there to talk to was my faithful friend and savior. I was comforted and challenged by his word and reminded how frequently I neglect to give him my first and best always…not just when I am in need.

3) I’m still not fluent and the language barrier is greater than ever when you’re sick and tired.

Reflections from Spain

First- I wrote this really quickly and then read over it before publishing and thank goodness I did because I found 101 grammatical errors (I hope I caught them all). Not sure if that means my spanish is improving or I am just another american with less than average mastery of our native language. Definitely thought for food.

Anyways, I’m not going to attempt to make some far fetched connection/comparison/word illustration like most articulate, interesting bloggers (or like my dad tries to do when I tell him I am writing a blog). I simply want to write down reflections I have had since being in a culture where Christianity is less than 2% of the population (I haven’t done a survey or census or anything of that nature, that’s just what I heard & more or less what I see).

The people I have encountered and come to know here have touched my life in innumerable ways. Differently but clearly. I assume that because I came here without sincerely knowing anyone, I am more aware of the relationships I have made as they are developing. Starting relationships from scratch, I’ve noticed two things. Each person does good differently and each person does bad differently. Written down, that seems like a clear, basic statement but I don’t know that I had ever thought of that concept exactly.

So, in the very nature of my flesh, I am judgmental and presumptuous. I knew three things: 1) I knew very little about Catholicism. 2) I knew Spain is predominantly Catholic. 3) I knew Catholicism was different than what I believe. Knowing these three things I drew the conclusion that catholics don’t believe the same as me and all spaniards are catholics so therefore since all spaniards don’t believe the same as me, they must be bad/wrong.

That’s a little extreme. I wouldn’t have outwardly said those things but that was my generalized stereotype.

None the less, I was very wrong. Not just in this aspect but towards anyone different than me. Anyone that didn’t grow up or believe the same evangelical gospel that I do.

However, here I’ve met all sorts of humans. I’ve met individuals with very intentional personalities and others with very nurturing, caring personalities and others that just make life fun. And I have seen flaws in nearly all of them. Not that I was searching for shortcomings or bruises in their character, just that spending substantial time with anyone permits vision to see deeper. But more than the flaws, I have seen Jesus in all of these people. People who believe differently than me. Imagine that? I have seen Jesus through people who possibly have never opened a bible. I’ve met individuals who make me laugh until my abs hurt, and I see Jesus in them. I’ve met servants who take care of things others wouldn’t dare to do. I’ve met people who walk a different way home just to lend me an ear.

And the thing is, I haven’t met many Christians here. I’ve met Jesus. I’ve met Jesus in my house, in the cafe, and in the street. I am meeting Jesus in every person I am doing life with.

So now my reflection is this: Jesus is always among us. He doesn’t force himself upon us, he just is. This earth is his creation and communion is his intention so his intention will always be fulfilled. Thus, since he created us to be with him, he will be with us, it’s just a matter of taking notice of his presence and being changed.

[señor. yo quiero verte, amen.]

estoy aprendiendo mucho

WOW! So many things have happened over the past two weeks. To recap:

1. I am working with two 13 year old boys (TWINS…Oscar and Ricky) as their English tutor. So far, I’ve met with them once and I meet with them again today. We meet once or twice a week and as a side bonus, I get to play tennis with them at their tennis club. They found out I played tennis and invited me to play with them as much as I want/have time for. We played the Saturday before last for 2 hours. It was absolutely wonderful to get back out on the court but let me tell ya what…those boys don’t play around. They are up and coming Spanish superstars! It’s great for me though because I get to hit and I’m picking up on some Spanish slang/vocab.

2. I took one class of flamenco dancing and it was incredibly difficult (especially for someone who has a rhythm deficiency). I don’t know if I am going to keep taking them because it is kind of a big commitment and right now I am really enjoying having very few commitments. But at least now I know the basic steps!

3. I finished my first class. It was an accelerated advanced Spanish grammar class so I took my final on Friday and I will get my grade for the class tomorrow. AHHH HOW CRAZY!? It seems like I just got here. I started another accelerated class on Monday and I will finish with it March 12. Then I will finish the semester with two more classes at the same time.

4. I am working with a missionary in a pueblo just outside of Sevilla called Tomares. He is teaching me and a few of my friends about how to share the gospel in Spanish culture and the differences between Catholics and Protestants. We meet on Thursdays for an hour of training and then some young spaniards join us for another hour of fellowship and food. The spaniards that come are friends that Rusty (the missionary) has sought out and invited. They are coming with the intention to practice their English but Rusty wants us to form relationships that open the door to really share the gospel and truth of Jesus Christ. Learning/practicing english with Americans just so happens to be a good gateway! I’m really excited to see where this goes and the relationships I make.

5. I went to Morocco this past weekend (lots of pics on FB) and it was AWESOME! We went with a travel group and the whole trip was very planned out and safe and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I had lots of firsts on this trip. My first time on a ferry (it was not that enjoyable actually). My first time eating cous cous (good experience but I still like the diner better). And my first time riding a camel (Also memorable, but my heart kind of shattered because the camels weren’t well groomed and taken care of). We also got to see the blue city of Chefchaoun, Tangier, Moroccan beaches, & shop in the markets. I tried lots of new food and I have decided I don’t love Moroccan food. I also learned a lot about Moroccan culture and what it is like to live in a Muslim country with a king and the role women play in their society and different customs…LOTS OF INTERESTING STUFF!! Needless to say, I enjoyed the trip BUT I am glad to be back in my Spanish home with my sweet Lidia.

I am learning so much everyday. Yes, I am learning Spanish and I am confident that my Spanish has improved by leaps and bounds but I am also learning about who I am. I am learning about freedom and independence and intentionality and time and blessings. But most of all I am constantly being reminded of God’s faithfulness. I don’t know how to describe the overwhelming peace I have because of the constant reassurance from Him that He is faithful. I am thankful He has called me to Him…called us to life. As Jesus has been teaching me who I am, He has also been revealing to me more of who He is: perfect, worthy and giving & constant, peaceful and honest.

Siglos Amén. Ven Señor Jesús.

{POCO A POCO}

Lidia and I are sharing clothes now. HOW COOL IS THAT?! It’s actually more like a one way thing though. Lidia (my señora) lends me her scarves and jackets and helps me make my outfit look more SpAnIaRd!! WOOHOO!!!

BUT…Poco a poco, I am settling into my new casa (home). Poco a poco is a phrase I have been hearing a lot here. It literally means little by little or one step at a time or SARAH BETH TAKE A BREATH AND DON’T WORRY OR RUSH OR STRESS BECAUSE YOU WILL LEARN LIFE AS IT COMES TO YOU. When I say something wrong in class or on the street or in my house, I am always corrected and the correction is followed by “Poco a poco”.  Initially, being bluntly corrected was/(is) hard.  I am sensitive girl. Kind of a perfectionist. I don’t like to mess up, especially not in public. But they correct me because they care about me and they care about me getting better at what I came to get better at (Español).  I never really realized how much of a culture of sugar-coaters we are in the U.S. Nobody really says what they are thinking because of fear that it might be offensive. The honesty of Spanish culture has really intrigued me and I really enjoy living with people who say what they think (not as in negative thoughts about another person) but intentionally addressing things that need correction. Another upside of Spaniard’s bluntness is also that when you do something well or look really nice, they tell you. For example, Lidia ALWAYS notices when I am (or am not) wearing make-up or have my hair fixed and she comments…but my mom does that too so that is not really new.

Anyways, this week has been exciting thus far. I got a bike so now I can ride around the city on some super sweet wheels. I had my first test yesterday. I have already eaten five meals with fish somehow incorporated. I facetimed by Bro for the first time since I’ve been here (that alone was a miracle). I’ve discovered some beautiful parks to run in. MY BODY IS FINALLY ADJUSTED TO THE TIME CHANGE. I’m going to bible study tonight, Cordoba on Friday, watching “Buscando Nemo” with my family on Saturday and FLAMENCO DANCE CLASSES START ON MONDAY! But the best part about this week is that I’m not stressed. Sure I have a lot of homework, but I also have plenty of time to rest and be still. I feel like I am really able to invest in the relationships I am making here because I am not overcommitted. I don’t have obligations for every hour of the day. I have time to be and breathe.  I’m trying to adopt poco a poco as my lifestyle. As silly as it may sound, I want to just go each day at a time. No pasa nada (another phrase I hear a lot similar to hakuna matata or no worries). Just being away from my family and in a new culture, I am learning every second. But it’s all just poco a poco.

jk ain’t even funny

So I had a revelation last night at the dinner table. My señora commented that she was nervous about a conversation she was going to have at work (she is the boss) to which I responded “tengo tu espalda”. In english I would have said, I got your back girl, no worries. But it was more or less supposed to be a joke like “no worries, I’m your little american exchange student and I will make sure it all goes over smoothly because I got your back since we met a 2 weeks ago and I’m living in your house”. It wasn’t funny though. Normally, I will laugh at my own jokes (esp. if no one else does) but this time it was different. All the sudden she looked really concerned. Evidently saying that I have your back in Spanish didn’t translate well. In fact, that isn’t even a saying here. She looked at me really concerned and explained to me that her back felt fine, she didn’t hurt her back and I didn’t need to worry about her back. That is when I realized that my joke got lost in translation. I ended up explaining that it was just a saying in English and we laughed at the end but what I realized is that I am not even really funny. I used to think I was a decently funny person because people are always laughing at my attempt to joke (or maybe they are laughing at me, but that is beside the point). However, NOW people can’t laugh at my jokes or at me. My jokes don’t translate or I can’t think of how to say it fast enough for it to be relevant and funny. I mean half of the reason something is funny is the timing. Am I right or am I right?

Anyways, I also came to a few more conclusions from the realization that I am less than funny. I realized that people don’t know me here. They don’t know who I am and they don’t know the type of reputation that has followed me my whole life. They don’t know what kind of family I come from or even what kind of character I may or may not have. The only things they know about me are the things I have shown them this far. Coming here, the only identity I had to them was a name with a picture to match. With that being said, I’m learning that the only identity they will see is the identity I show them and I hope that identity is one which is constant. I hope it is one that isn’t changed by a different home with different foods and different friends. I hope they see Jesus in me because I know he is the only constant worth being seen.

So, I like that I am not funny. I like that my brain is slow and my mouth is even even slower. I like that I’m not identified by anything anyone else’s words or claims about me. Spain, thank you for taking Sarah Beth’s reputation, humor, clique, family, talents and stuff. Thanks for hiding them so no one can see them. I hope they can stay hidden. Because I want the Constant to be seen.