I have cried three times since I've been here, all in the last thirty days. Normally I can go for months, so I'm going to blame on circumstances. Or lack of. For example, I made it through saying dear goodbyes back in the States without melting down, ditto for a month of intense language school here (in a totally random, slavic language, fyi). Hard but surviveable.

However, when I was told I couldn't have a video camera till later, if at all, I lost it. Cried my eyes out for half an hour, then survived into my sixth or seventh week and was rewarded with a love of a camera. Two, three weeks of happiness... and then my grandfather passed away. That, at least, is a good excuse to cry, mourning the loss of someone who was had such a loving impact on life.

And tonight, I lost it again. But this time, it was not in the privacy of my room, and not for family or work reasons. Out on the evening street, snow falling and mixing with the tears, walking the last bit home so I wouldn't climb on the tram all red-eyed. Or maybe just so they wouldn't think I was drunk, since I was definitely crying and definitely *laughing* out loud.

I found volleyball. Right up the road.

You probably don't want all the details, and unless you're one of a rare few, you likely think that, if a camera's a bad excuse to cry, volleyball's a worse one. But there were guys playing- good ones- and they invited me to come back next week and play. There are womens' volleyball and basketball teams too, but I'm not sure if they're college or club.

Point being, there is nothing on earth like telling God you'll trust Him for friendships and activities in a new culture, working with what you're given, and then suddenly having Him drop something like this in your lap. Amazingness. Even if it does involve tears.

3/2/08

This is home. Ergo, I'm gone.
Up before you, out the door
You left unlocked once more - it sees
A new adventure every day
And anyway, I have my keys

I wipe m feet and come in quiet
Not for me your friendly riot
People grouping, hula hooping
I'll be back some time, no hurry
Out again or in, don't worry.

This my home turf you've adopted
I pick up right where I dropped it
Fancy that- I'm fancy free
Staying here where there you see
Much delighted, less surprised
I'm home
I hope you've realised....

Walking home one day this week, I was thinking about some story I read when I was 11 or 12. A friend accuses an artist of being cold-blooded, throws out the statement, "If someone you loved died, the first thing you'd do would be start sculpting." She doesn't reply. A month or so later, one of her close friends- maybe boyfriend- dies. "I'm sorry," she whispers, and starts sculpting....

So I'm thinking about this story, realising that I'd probably do the same thing. Start looking at old photos, at videos, writing poetry and memories down. My grandfather's been in poor health for a long while, but we've had some last great memories this past year and a half in the States, between my old home in west europe and my new-as-of-january home in east europe.

Really God-timing, because I just got a call from my mom- today he went home, to Heaven. And I know he walked (or flew, or whatever spirits do) up to God with the hugest smile on his face and said, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith!!!" And God said, "Well, done, good and faithful servant, enter into your Master's joy."

I've never known anyone as consistently faithful. I've met some awesome guys on fire for God, and that was definitely an attraction for me, because I've seen firsthand what it looks like to grow old in that. To share Jesus with total strangers, whether it's a friendly conversation or just a kind word. To interupt and accidentally (or on purpose!) annoy your wife while she's cooking Thanksgiving dinner for sixty three relatives- and then humbly apologise before she can even say anything. To still love that wife enough to pull her aside for a kiss or brag on her after fifty years of marriage. To have time to tease and talk seriously with each grandkid, no matter if they're 22 or 1. To wave your kids off on the plane for overseas, time and time again. To travel overseas to see those kids and your grandkids, and not complain about traveling expenses or annoyances but be honestly excited for them. To help as you can in the community, write letters to the governors and president about political issues you feel strongly about. To be a patriot, and believe in your country, and yet study issues and act in them.

And there's so much more my grandfather was. And I'm not there with my family- all of it- to *celebrate* his life and what we've gained from knowing him, but he knows I loved him, and he was proud of me for coming overseas on my own path. Which is the better for having seen him walk his.

So what do you do when you roll over in bed on a beautiful sunny morning, look out the window on your adopted city, and the first thought that drifts through the glass is, "This is too big for me. What am I *doing* here?"

And what's a wee bit unnerving is that this is happening to me more frequently (not the sunshine, mind you, the question). I hoped that longer I was here and the more I got to know my city, the more ready I'd be to answer that. Because I know I'm here for a reason. It just happens to be Father-sized, and while it's abstractly comforting to know it's not about me, a lot more faith is required. A whole lot. *Reckless faith.* I've started writing that on my wrist (without the period, b/c there are rarely periods after faith) to remind me what's going on. Or at least what should be going on.

I have my job, and I love it, but in some puzzling way it's giving me more questions than it's answering. The more I have permission to bounce in my fun bubble of warm apartment, hilarious roommates, video editing on my computer, and friends at gym and fellowship... the more I look out my window and say, "Today's not going to be enough if I stay in that safety."

Ever heard the song "I AM" by Ginny Owens? "How can I understand/This thing You're gonna do?"/"That's not your problem," God replied/"There's a bigger picture/ And you don't have to change the world /I'm your creator, I am working out my plan
And through you, I will show them ... I AM"

And I think faith is just going to have to be enough, even on sunny days.

Both promised imperfect neighbors. Both boasted emphatic leadership, zealous disciples, and hearty opposition. It wasn't a question of faith or no faith. It was a decision to put his faith in God or man."

- "Echoes", Heitzmann