new life

Hello, hello! A little update on what's going on over here in Germany, in our family at least. 2012 brought our family a new school routine. All four of us are in school - at the same time! Yes, we are. Daniel and I kiss both kids goodbye at the village Kindergarten and dash off to the train station for our morning date (language class) together! It’s even more fun than it sounds. Sitting in class with my best friend and five fascinating people from around the world and one crazy teacher. When is the mission board going to call up and tell us to lay off on the fun factor? 

And about that poor little three year old girl who has to leave her mother now? She is having the time of her life. And her German is finally making some sense. Caleb was worried sick that she would embarrass him at the Kindergarten with her “funny German,” but she has surprised us all! Lucy is happy as a clam in there. Lots of kids, food, dolls, a “beautiful teacher", a sandpit, parties, an occasional fight - what could suite that girl better? The only sad part: when mommy’s class is over, her carriage turns back into a pumpkin and she’s stuck at home with old Mom again. Until then, by the grace of God, we’re enjoying this new and crazy stage of our lives to the fullest! 

Our church baptized four believers on Sunday afternoon. Four people who had turned from the darkness of sin to the light of Christ’s forgiving love. Each one's story gives the world a brilliant new facet of God's redeeming grace. They acted out Christ’s death sacrifice and resurrection power. Their faces glistened with joy and peace in believing as they were raised to walk in newness of life. 

Longest Light

Every family in Germany is familiar with the Advents wreath, a horizontal wreath of evergreens topped with four candles and other natural decorations like dried orange slices and cinnamon sticks. The four candles represent the four Sundays preceding Christmas, the time of Advent. The first candle is lit on the first Sunday of Advent, and on each of the next three Sundays an additional candle is lit. On the last Sunday of Advent, all four candles are lit. The candlelights symbolize the hope and peace Christ brought to earth. The circular wreath represents eternal life, Christ's victory over death. The evergreens are a sign of God's unconditional faithfulness to His people. 

But the story behind the wreath is a little fuzzy. Back in the Middle Ages, Christians in Northern Europe lit fires and candles in the dark month of December to represent their hopeful expectation of Christ's second coming to earth. Some say that the whole thing was started by a German pastor in Hamburg whose mission children asked incessantly if it was Christmas yet. Most agree that the Advents wreath's roots go back even further to a time when the dark days surrounding the winter solstice troubled ancient minds, and people made a symbol of their hope in the renewed light of Spring. In these earliest wreaths, the circular wheel represented the ongoing cycle of seasons, the evergreens symbolized the persistence of life even in the depth of winter, and the candles were a sign of hope that, when the long dark winter was over, the sun would shine again. 

As we approach our first winter solstice living in Germany, the sun's scarcity has taken us by surprise. The days are short, and the nights are long. The brilliant, rich German Christmas traditions, yet so new and novel to us, have delighted our hearts and lightened our steps during this Christmas season. God's drawing new hearts slowly but surely to Himself gives meaning to our days. But, nevertheless, the dark skies have seeped into our hearts, and we miss family and friends more than ever before. 

So tonight I walk up to our little Advents wreath with pine cones and red candles, feeling the troubled darkness of its earliest makers. Tonight we light all four candles. The flickering candlelight shines down onto the pine needles, so green and lively, while winter's first snow holds other life forms in cold stillness tonight. God is faithful - always loving just the same, no matter what the sky is doing. No matter what I am doing for that matter. The lights surround the wreath; tonight the circle is complete. Christ lives and reigns without end! And He has bought my eternal life with His own blood, shed in love for me. The candle wax melts and the four flames burn strongly now, making the walls of our darkened room dance with light. 
Christ Jesus. My hope for salvation, peace with God, joy through life.

The darkness is banished. My Everlasting Light resides anew!

"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has the light shined…For unto us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:2,6

grand mother language

Hello again, friends. Quite the long pause there. All that talk about raising songs to heaven and all, and then... crickets. If you are interested in excuses, it's been really busy here. In more honest terms, sometimes there was time, but I was too discouraged to write. When there was courage, there was no time. When there was time, there was no courage. But more about that another day...

Since I left you with Caleb's first day of Kindergarten, I'll start off with that. The kid loves it. He has had to grow up a notch or two, but he is none the worse for the wear. Kindergarten has been just the ticket for him in so many ways. The most astounding of those is his absorption of German. Caleb is my personal translator: prompting me, translating, and correcting my pronunciation. He has developed a rather dorky little habit of saying things twice - in English, then in German. This will all get old, but right now it is more useful than it is annoying.

Lucy Mae is making her own way into the German language. Her version of German is understood only by My Little Ponies and Potato Heads, although Caleb can translate it at times now. Lucy does not let any old language barrier stop her from making new friends. She starts out in English before it morphs into German, but she always gets her point across. Lucy may not be a language lover, but she's people lover, and that will get her even further.

Sticking with the language updates, Daniel preached in German last Sunday, first time without a translator for a Sunday service. I thought he did great. Praise our God! Daniel is also doing most of his reading in German. It's no wonder he also talks in his sleep in German.

My language class just ended a few weeks ago. It was a welcome change to turn my full attention back homeward and take care of some the chaos that had built up around here. Sure do miss those classmates though. Some of us had been in class together for nearly the entire 6-month course. 5 days a week. 4 hours a day. That first week of class I actually felt afraid of them. Now they are some of my best friends. Incredible people. We still can't get enough of each other. A few have visited our church, and they all want to come to the Advents Coffee church on Dec 4!

The biggest headline of all is that Daniel's mom is here! Here. With us. In Germany. She's even learning some German words herself. Between showing her around our new world and letting her spoil those grandkids, we talk the other hours away. So much to do. So much to say. So much to love.

Here's the fb album of the memories we've made so far.
The rest will have to wait. We're off to show Grandmother another castle!

A letter to my son, on his first day of Kindergarten

My Dear Caleb,

Today you leave the constant shelter of your mother's arms to enter the great world beyond your own apartment door. Today you begin the next chapter of your life, your education outside our home.

I see that my tears surprise you. I am mourning the end your beloved babyhood. I stand watching these past five years as they round the distant bend and roll out of sight like a train that bears a friend away. Today at the big red doors, we stand between your babyhood and your childhood.  I know, Little Man, you've been a long while no more a baby. But try to understand your mother. The lines between infancy, toddlerhood, and pre-school were vague. Gradual changes. But now, all in one clear-skyed day, you become a Kindergartener. Somewhere between the embroidered burp cloths and the Lego airplanes, my preemie baby turned into a school boy. Until today you stayed with me every day. Today and hereafter you will leave me every morning to learn lessons that I cannot teach you here at home.

As I watch you shoulder your black backpack all around the apartment, I know that you are ready. You are hungry to learn German, to find friends, to learn about your world, to become part of a community of children. I can't find a hint of fear in you, and you know how I have probed! Neither do I fear. You are in a safe place, in caring hands. In that God has given me confidence. I am happy for you. But still it hurts for me to leave you there. I ache to be always near you. I don't want to miss one moment of your delightful company. I hardly have before. I want to follow your inquisitive mind, to hear your new words the first times they are spoken. I want to see you be brave, wise, kind, and respectful. I know your strength and your conviction, and I thank God for giving them to you. Tough Guy, it's time to fly, and you are going to soar! Your mother believes in you.

Peanut, while you get out the new blue shoes we bought a bit large for you to grow into, I see my baby again. You fasten the velcro, pulling it tighter than intended so the straps hang over the sides, and I wonder if we are doing the right thing. You are still so young, so little. Still so recognizable from your baby photos. And so trusting, so hopeful. Baby-Son, bigger boys will push you down. Your hopes will be unfulfilled. Your trust broken. Your own falls, failures, and fears from which I have daily shielded you are going to define your days now. You will make wrong choices. You are going to crash. You will turn your head and call for me, breathing in to cry. I won't be there, Lovey. Breathe that cry right out, talk to God in your heart, and take off again. You always raise your eyebrows so cutely when you blink back tears. Blink them hard for me, Bud.

Kiddo, I want to stay beside you to monitor your safety, to read your thoughts, and to whisper little suggestions in your ear. But I'm not going to stay. Instead I'll pray to the One who sends His Spirit to stay with you and do exactly that.

Son, by sending you to Kindergarten here in Germany, we lay a unique burden on you. This is an exclusive opportunity, but I will not deny that it is also a peculiar challenge. I see the searching stare on your face when your teacher talks to you. It mirrors an expression my own face knows well. I understand. I feel the confusion with you. When our choice to follow Christ all the way to Germany affects you in ways like this, I always double check the map. Caleb, going to this very Kindergarten in this country is part of the flawless, spectacular plan God has drawn up for your life. While you are within those big red doors, He will always be right beside you. He will bless you, test you, build you, and use you - all to bring Himself glory. God's got a new little light in another corner of His globe. Let it shine, Bud. Let it shine!

Love always,

Mommy

Something for God

In looking for a new title, I thought back on the hymns we used to sing and play for the churches we visited before moving to Germany. One of our old standbys was an old, old song called "Something for Thee," partly because it sounded pretty on the recorder, but also because it capsulized why we were going to Germany. That is, why we had given our lives to God in the first place, a decision that eventuated in replanting our family an ocean away. Anyway, Some Song to Raise comes out of the end of the second verse. "Help me... some song to raise - or prayer, something for Thee."


But first I did a lot of thinking about this old blog here. What it is and is not, what it should be and should not be, what it could be and could never be. I thought about how it started, an alternative to e-mailing all those first-grandchild pictures. I thought about my love/hate relationship with this blog, and all the other more important things on my plate right now. I thought about the encouraging google analytics results (and how much I would love to know who you people are!). A few Proverbs about our words came to mind, and I was ready to yank the whole thing right off the web. I thought about my life - where we live and what we do, and all the people who pray and give and wonder what it's like to be missionary. I thought about my scribbly journal pages, and how crazy I would be to put some of that stuff up here. But also, that some of those words could praise God better on a blog than stuffed in a notebook. They could become some kind of song, a life-song to sing. Some song to raise. Something to offer. 


Nothing that is going to change the world. Nothing that hasn't already been said. Hardly a bubble in the sea of blogs out there today. 


But something. Some song, coming from some ransomed soul, falling on the heart of some reader. If this blog can, as the song lyrics say, achieve "some work of love begun, some deed of kindness done, some wanderer sought and won," that would be "through all eternity, something for Thee."


One more thought about the whole song idea. Some of the verses are just there for the fun of it. Others are mundane, factual, or random. Sometimes this blog sings a happy song, but at other times it has a sad song to raise. What gives us hope is that all of our songs will make perfect sense one new day that's coming after all the last notes are sung. 

Something For Thee

Sylvanus D. Phelps, 1862

Savior, Thy dying love
Thou gavest me,
Nor should I aught withhold,
Dear Lord, from Thee:
In love my soul would bow,
My heart fulfill its vow,
Some offering bring Thee now,
Something for Thee.

At the blest mercy seat,
Pleading for me,
My feeble faith looks up,
Jesus, to Thee:
Help me the cross to bear,
Thy wondrous love declare,
Some song to raise, or prayer,
Something for Thee.

Give me a faithful heart,
Likeness to Thee,
That each departing day
Henceforth may see
Some work of love begun,
Some deed of kindness done,
Some wanderer sought and won,
Something for Thee.

All that I am and have,
Thy gifts so free,
In joy, in grief, through life,
Dear Lord, for Thee!
And when Thy face I see,
My ransomed soul shall be,
Through all eternity,
Something for Thee.

The dandelions

...on the background. They are gone forever. Promise. Now to do something about that title up there. Daniel is telling me that it's time. :o) I have to say that "There" has grown so packed with meaning for me. But, I'm afraid it just doesn't deliver the meaning very well. So, I have a list started, and we'll see if I can come up with a new title and tag line without over thinking it or losing sleep.

Suggestions, anyone?

family and friends

Germany feels more like home than it did before the Goernandts came to visit from their side of Germany. Rebecca is Daniel's cousin, so they are completely family and every bit friends. Being together was rejuvenating, sharpening, and tons of fun. I'm just mad they didn't stay longer. We are already dreaming about those first snowflakes to fall and tell us it’s almost time to visit them in December! 

The Stairs

One evening we had a prospective missionary in our home for dinner. As we sat around the table, I explained to Caleb that our friend was here in Germany to find out what it was like being a missionary. Then came a spark of bravery, and I asked Caleb if he could tell her what it was like to be missionary. In the next five seconds of usual pensive silence that precede Caleb’s answers, I formulated his coming answer in mind. 20% adorable, 30% memorable, and 50% admirable. I knew he would make me proud. We were about to see what this kid was made of. Self sacrifice, eternal perspective, others orientation. We’re all staring at him. He’s finally opening his little mouth. Here it comes... I hold my breath, my eyebrows raised unnaturally high.

“I liked it better in America.”

(Eyebrows descend into an unnaturally low position.)

“Really?” (I’m still processing.)

Caleb nods his head and takes a bite.

(Daniel and I shoot each other awkward glances and think about all the intentional talk - all those “what we miss/what we have here/why we are here/what a privilege we have to serve God as missionaries” conversations we have had as a family this year. Then the times he saw me crying flash before my mind. Kids think what we show them to think. I’ve tried so hard to put forth the positive, the joy in serving, before the kids. But what have I really communicated to him?)

Guest or no guest, Caleb’s talking and I’m not stopping him.

"Why did you like it better in America?"

“Because our house in America didn’t have as many steps. Our apartment here has lots of steps, and my legs always get tired.”

That’s it? That’s all he could think of? So he doesn’t hate it here after all?! He’s just looking at the one hardest thing he can think of and dwelling on it. He’s wishing that one thing were different. Did he learn that from me? Kids think what we show them to think, not what we tell them to think.

“Why else?” (beyond bravery now)

“That’s all.”

Logical, concise, so Caleb.

Now for the teachable moment - the kind we learned about in child psychology. 

“Caleb, God gave you this apartment with all these stairs because He loves you. He wants you to have stronger legs. God knows that if you climb these stairs everyday, your legs will get very strong, and you will become the strong boy God wants you to be. Let’s stop wishing for fewer stairs to climb, and start asking God everyday for stronger legs.”

"Ok Mom."

Subject change. Our guest looks bored. 

Thank you, Caleb. The teachable moment was mine. 

God, please help us not to look down at the stairs, but up - to where the steps are leading. Make our legs strong. Help us to keep climbing and not look back. Amen.

"...we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."

Romans 5:3-5

routine and more

Feels like it’s time for an update on how and what we are doing over here. Two words, “routine” and “more,” pretty much sum it up for you. We have settled into a good routine. A busy one. And busy is good - for me especially. Busy about what we are called to do here, and too busy to stop and think homesick thoughts. It has taken language school for me to form a decent morning routine for the first time since Caleb was born - decent enough to get up, get presentable, drink coffee, read my Bible, and eat a good breakfast every morning before 8:30. First time in five years that my life has ever been so orderly in those morning pre-kids-awake hours. That’s been really, really great. 

 
And then I’m off to school and it’s all Daniel back at home. Daniel is one incredible father. When we meet again in the afternoon, I love seeing the perfectly-explainably-coordinating shirt, pants, and hair bow he had put on Lucy that morning, and hearing all about the healthy lunch Papa had fixed and the cut-out project he had printed out for them to work on. And there has not yet been one afternoon when the dishwasher wasn’t up to the minute when I got home from school. We’ve gotten the household tag-team thing down pretty well. It’s more like a bargain than a team sometimes. "You start the wash, and I’ll hang it out to dry." "If you vacuum, I will mop." 

Language school is unbelievably fun. I feel guilty about having this much fun as a missionary! That’s the honest truth. My classmates and teacher are simply fascinating people that I look forward to seeing every day. We laugh way too much in class. And I wonder how many 31 year old mothers would love an opportunity to get out of the house every morning and apply their minds to a challenging skill like learning a new language if they had the chance. 

Then we make the The Trade in the train station downtown Nuremberg. It’s Daniel’s turn to go to school, and I am happy to get back to my country nest and make every little minute count with these kids before it’s already time for them to go to bed. 

We have more blessed routine with the regular church activities - mostly for Daniel. For me it’s remembering which days he only has 15 minutes for supper before he heads out the door again! And speaking of church, are we ever thankful for our church! The loving, forbearing fellowship and the bond in Christ we share make up a precious haven for worship and growth and giving. Our love and respect for our coworkers grow every week. If God uses us to reproduce something like this again here in Germany, we would jump for joy and praise Him for it all! 

And the “more” part? 

No heaven-rending events to report home about.

No monumental beginnings. 
No grand completions.

Just simply more. 

More German, more words. 

More people, more needs. 

More friends, more giving and receiving. 

More experiences, more home. 

More questions, more answers. 

More seeking, more finding.

More testing, more steadfastness.

More dying, more living!

More sin, more grace!

And, oh how much I pray, less me and more Christ! 

3&5

Arnold family celebration month has come and gone! A few pictures of the kids today...

We are loving having a five-year-old. Caleb is a thinker, listener, builder, reader, imaginer. At the moment he is talking to his lego guys in German. That's a first. He surprises me with German words I don't even know yet. Words like tied-up, thief, and jail. Caleb's best friend is his sister. Caleb loves to hear the gospel told again and again. Caleb doesn't talk a lot, but when he does it comes from down deep inside and you know it's for real.

And then there is my little Lucy Mae. Our talker, singer, question-asker, announcement-maker, get-all-muddy, let's-go-faster, all-or-nothing girl. Lucy never misses a party. Every day we laugh at the outrageously random stuff she comes up with. Caleb just shakes his head. Lucy adores her Papa and brother. She's my student in the school of godly womanhood, and best friend in the making. Right now she's sticking Dora stickers over the key hole on her bedroom door.

It was birthday bike year!

Visitors

 The Loeffler family came to Germany on vacation, and they let us in on some of the fun! We go back to BJU orchestra, German classes, and our sending church before they moved away to MI. 

a little quiet time on Sunday afternoon

three handsome boys

AND, we all went to see the Musical Mission Team concert!
Here we are talking with the McCauleys after the conert. 

And then came Playmobil Fun Park - a child's paradise! 

Ok, Friends, who's next??? We'll show you a good time! 

Culture Shock

We’ve been here almost six months now. They say it takes 6-9 months to reach the low point in culture shock, from which you begin to emerge and start functioning better and better in your new culture.

Praise God that a lot of the adjustments are behind us now! I have learned to steer four-wheel drive shopping carts (as long as I remember not to wear slippery shoes). I can answer the phone without breaking a sweat. I have finally figured out what the cashier always asks before I swipe my card. My nose has adjusted to all the new smells (not bad smells, just totally unexpected - not your average Target or Walmart smell). Having German friends over – a piece of cake. Navigating subways alone – all in a day's work. Sorting trash into six different categories – all the better. 

The hardest thing about culture shock now is this general feeling that we are not one of them. (And now we have the papers to prove it!)

The way it sounds in my head goes something like this:

I just did something wrong, but what was it?

Should I ask him to repeat again, or should I just smile and nod? 

How do I tell her that’s not what I really meant to say?

Are they starring, or is it just in my head?

Some days I have all the confidence and motivation to use every morsel of German I've got (and then some) to get a conversation going with a neighbor. But on other days, people around us look like ghosts to me. I’m a missionary here to tell them about Jesus, but I don't even look them in the eye in case they'll say something I don't understand and... there goes my “ordinary German woman” cover.

That's just where I am right now. I keep telling myself that we are not here just to blend in. We are here because we have something these people need. If blending in culturally does help us to get that across, we'll study our German till the neighbor's cows come home. And on the spiritual level, we are here as lights on lampstands, and no baskets allowed.  How's my candle holding out these days? That's the bigger question. Matthew 6:14-16 

All that to say, I wonder how God is ever going to use us among the Germans, but that is on His shoulders. All we have to do is be faithful today.

Pray that we won’t forget why we are here.