Norway. Never a country that I thought I was going to visit when I first explored studying abroad. When I met my cousin from Norway as a senior in high school, my mind changed completely. Coming to Germany this fall, my main goal was to find a time that I could cross the sea and make it to the very long country to meet my extended family for the first time. After some coordination, we got it to work. And I could not have asked for anything more. To describe the scenery in a blog does not do it justice. There are utterly no words that I could type that could remotely get you to understand the euphoric state of mind I was in the entire weekend. If you want a truly humbling experience, take some time and travel to the most beautiful place on earth… Norway.

Our roadtrip through the mountains

The water was so blue and clear… tasted great!

Matt and I overlooking the mountains

One of the many waterfalls along the trip

Now my family I can talk about. I was extremely nervous and overwhelmed when we pulled back into the driveway after our two day roadtrip to find about 15 family members standing there. So many people came up to me to shake my hand; they all introduced themselves, but Norwegian names are very difficult to pronounce! After going inside, we had dinner and talked for hours. I was so blessed to know that this many family members wanted to meet me. They were all so kind and engaging. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. There is nothing better than coming home from the most beautiful scenery to meet the most beautiful people. I hope now that I can go back to Norway since I cannot imagine living without these family connections in this gorgeous country.

All of my wonderful Norwegian family

One of the most memorable experiences was meeting my cousin’s girlfriend’s son, Leander. He was almost 3 years old, and we bonded because we didn’t need language. After a few hours of playing with Buzz Lightyear and Lego planes, we became the best of friends. He learned my name right away and came to give me a big hug before he had to go home to bed. On Sunday, we all had lunch together and then had to say goodbye. As we both pulled out of the driveway in different vehicles, Stein (my cousin) stopped the car because Leander was crying. Tor (my other cousin) pulled up alongside to see what was wrong, and Leander felt like he hadn’t said enough goodbyes to me. That was enough to almost make me cry.

I love my family. Hopefully one day I will be making the long trek back to Norway to experience even more of the country and even more family dinners.

This past weekend my boyfriend Matt and I had plans to travel to Norway to visit my family, most of whom I have never met before. I was so excited and thrilled for this experience, I cannot even put into words the anticipation I was feeling the days leading up to our departure. Our flight left from Berlin at 21:25 meaning we should probably get there a few hours earlier. Unfortunately, the train times were not very accommodating to us; the only connection we could make left from Reutlingen at 13:07 and would eventually (after 4 transfers) bring us into Berlin Tegel Airport at 20:25. That is exactly one hour… cutting it close. Trains in Germany are also supposed to run on time though – they are good with discipline and orderliness here, so there shouldn’t have been a problem.

Wrong.

Our third train came into the station approximately 15 minutes late. There was only a 13 minute layover between transfers, so Matt and I both thought we missed our next connection. By the grace of luck, the train we had to catch to Hannover was also 5 minutes late. Thankfully we got on, and all was well.

Wrong again. Although the train left only 5 minutes delayed, it came into Hannover a full 25 minutes past the time it was supposed to arrive. No planning could have prevented this, and we missed our last connection to Berlin. The next train would get us in at 20:45 to the Berlin Spandau station with a subway and a bus to catch after that before we would arrive at Tegel. I don’t know about you, but the time did not look favorable. Therefore, I was in tears on this last leg of the trip. The entire time I was sitting on the train I kept praying to God in every way I knew how to get us to the airport in time. I was literally rehearsing the Lord’s Prayer, the Nicene Creed, and the prayer I say before nighttime and meals. Anything that I could do to plead, I was doing.

A stranger sat down next to Matt. He was German and spoke very little English making the lively conversation that much more entertaining between Matt and him. Neither could get their point across absolutely clearly. I had a moment where I thought that maybe he was the angel God sent to us, and he would somehow help us get to our flight in time. However, I was still crabby and tear filled, so I let Matt carry on the conversation. Sure enough, when it was time for us to leave, the stranger stood up and shook both of our hands and wished us luck on catching our flight and the rest of our travels. Nice man.

To make matters more spectacular, he continued to hand Matt 20 Euros and refused to take it back. Matt and I just stared at each other in disbelief. The stranger went back to his seat, and we never saw him again. This 20 Euros was just enough for us to take a taxi, the total ride costing 18 Euros. If we would have walked to the S Bahn, we would have gone the wrong way with my poor directions. We still had to sprint through the airport and past security, but we made it. We got to the airport 5 minutes before the Oslo flight started boarding (it was also running a little late).

Without this stranger’s aide, we would most likely have not made it in time. Matt and I both teared up again on the shuttle bus to our plane because we just couldn’t believe it. If this isn’t God’s work, I have no idea what is. There truly are angels among us every where we go. I feel so blessed and so lucky to have shared paths with this man and wish I knew his name to thank him. God helped us get to our flight and have the most wonderful weekend of my life. It was just a glimpse of His beauty that was glaringly obvious throughout the rest of the weekend. I thank God for that man, and I will always believe he was an angel.

I’ll begin with pictures from a busy, modern Frankfurt and an enticing, beautiful Dresden.

Following the Sunday morning church bells

Modern Frankfurt

Love in Frankfurt

After Berlin, Frankfurt, and Dresden the last couple of weeks, I was ready to stay in one place for more than five days.  I, along with several others, chose to stay back in Reutlingen this past weekend.  I cannot describe what happiness it brings me to be able to have laundry completed, my room “cloroxed,” letters written and mailed, etc.  For the past week or so, I have had such an intense desire to feel put together, for I haven’t really felt that since I arrived in Germany.  For me, feeling put together usually entails cleanliness and productiveness.  I’m happy to say, my weekend has been just that and more!

Beyond my accomplished “to-do lists” for this weekend, though, is the grace and heart warming moments I experienced.  The nature surrounding Reutlingen University is absolutely breathtaking.  This weekend, I woke up early each morning to go for a long run amongst the Swabian Alps.  When trying to convey the beautiful nature that exists in my “backyard”, I am simply at a loss for words.  Even though the pictures don’t quite do it justice, I’ll let them speak for themselves.

Returning from these runs always leave me feeling so fulfilled.  But, I was especially uplifted when I checked my mailbox Friday morning and found a surprise from a sweet, loved one.  A little friend of mine by the name of Kyle (age 8), sent me a precious paper friend, by the name of Flat Stanley. Having never heard of this before, I read the description:

“Our class read a story called Flat Stanley by Jeff Brown.  A big bulletin board fell on Stanley and made him flat.  In the story, he travels to different places around the world.  We each made our own flat person (mine is in this envelope) and we need you to show him/her around your area.  he/she is very fragile, as you can see, so please take good care of him/her.  Please dress Flat Stanley in clothes that are appropriate to where you live.  Please take pictures with him/her in interesting places in your are and send any souvenirs or brochures back with him/her.”

And I thought that I was filled with joy while taking my run!  Let me tell you, this paper Flat Stanley completely warmed my heart.  My adorable Kylie thought of me, even hundreds of thousands of miles away.  Just picturing her precious face when Flat Stanley returns to her with pictures from all over Germany is a priceless, beautiful thought.  I bet that she will have the best Flat Stanley story in her class, and at that age we all remember just how important that was.  So, I began my photo shoot with Flat Stanley this weekend:

You don’t always have to be visiting the most phenomenally beautiful cathedral in Dresden or the amazing architecture in Frankfurt to experience such pleasant moments; it can be as close as your backyard or as inexpensive as a paper doll.

Historic by day and dynamic by night.  How do you characterize a city with such profound history yet such nighttime energy?  One cannot step foot in Berlin without experiencing a plethora of emotions ranging from despondency to bliss, acrimony to absolution.  It seems improper and almost offensive to enjoy Berlin’s nightlife with its presence of history so willingly revealed; yet makes one question their state of naïveté for letting that very thought settle in the first place.  It is as if a hormonal battle is inevitably existing in this city as individuals are forced to face a variety of emotions every day, for the feelings you feel at one moment have the potential to be in direct contrast to the feelings you feel the next.  In short, it is a city characterized by emotional dichotomy.

Me being the protagonist, I can readily recall countless of the inevitably opposing emotions that existed in this enticing city.  The most profound example of such emotional dichotomy occurred on a Sunday morning, mid September.  It was as though the serenity that completely occupies my one out of seven days a week was mocked.  The late morning walking tour of Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp contrasted with the late evening pink-line to Oranienburgerstraße left me with such emotional unrest that my once glorious, blessed Sunday was now filled with anxiousness, restlessness, and profound perplexity.  The dichotomy of that Sunday not only rested in the activities that took place, but in the weather as well.  The weather in mid September is typically characterized as crisp, bitter, and potentially quite chilly.  What’s more, I would argue that most individuals would reason that the chances of the weather cooperating for them on the day of a concentration camp tour are fairly slim, all the while deeming it seemingly appropriate if it didn’t.  However, that atypical Sunday afternoon, the sun was ever present and the temperature seemingly perfect.  It is obvious then, that even before the day’s activities began, there was such juxtaposition, both spiritually and physically.  Because my emotions were already contrasting one another prior to 8:00 a.m., I felt I could accurately predict what the rest of the day would bring emotionally.  But in actuality, I couldn’t.

The emotional dichotomy that existed while touring Sachsenhausen was profound.  The humbling walk from the train station to Sachsenhausen was characteristically quiet.  However, “quiet” is a substantial word in this context, for the quietness itself was yet another present dichotomy that day.  Ultimately, the silent walk was a symbolic representation of the noise we were all experiencing internally.  The fact that very little was spoken during the walk to Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp alludes to the deafening turmoil that everyone was experiencing internally.  What is one supposed to say?  After riding a train the same route the prisoners once did, after exiting at the same station as those very prisoners, and after walking the seemingly long walk (for most of them, their ultimate death walk) to the concentration camp, I was left with a complete absence of words.  Yet, just like everyone else, while I was physically quiet I was simultaneously internally racing from thought to thought.  I’m not sure if nobody spoke because our minds were too loud with words or because we simply couldn’t articulate those very thoughts that were occupying all of our minds.  While I can’t recollect much of the competing thoughts I was experiencing during that walk, there is one in particular I can remember clearly: even while I am literally walking in the prisoners’ footsteps, I still have no idea what it is like to be in their shoes. It was then that I became increasingly frustrated, frustrated with my inability to take on some of their hurt.

I remember approaching the campgrounds with such hesitancy.  The words “Arbeit Macht Frei” were scripted across the top of the entrance gate into Sachsenhausen.  Before the tour guide even told us the significance of that phrase in English, I knew the connotation they upheld.  The sound of those three words is symbolic; the hard consonants alone (r, b, t, ch) represent the nature of the meaning behind them.  The cruelty of that gate, just by the sound of those words alone, was nothing compared to what those words meant and to what was beyond them.  While there were endless exhibits at Sachsenhausen that beg for ample reflection, the tour as a whole left me an inhumane range of emotion.  I began the tour with such hesitancy and confusion, continued the tour with anger and animosity, and ended the tour with a sense of forgiveness and calamity about me.  I was prepared for the feelings of hesitancy and animosity, but to feel forgiveness to those who inflicted so much pain was an emotion that I hadn’t expected.  Surely, that mercy was of the Spirit, and not of my own.  Then again, it was a Sunday afternoon.  How very typical.

Because I had ended the tour of Sachsenhausen with a calamity and forgiveness about me, I had expected the evening to continue as planned.   However, I found myself, yet again, in a state of overwhelming internal conflict.  As I was going through my typical routine of freshening up for the evening, (showering, applying makeup, adorning myself in pearls, and the like) I felt an immense sense of guilt lay heavily on my heart.  I began feeling angry with myself for not reflecting on those seemingly trivial blessings in which I had just participated.  Why wasn’t I feeling thankful for a genuine washing for the duration of my shower?  Why do I take for granted my freedom to apply makeup?  Does adorning myself in pearls represent something other than materialism?  Were all of these self-criticisms reasonable to have?  If God doesn’t provide me with it, am I responsible to implement more sacrifice in my daily life, given what I witnessed today?  Or is that something you experience, reflect on, and continue as you normally would?  I became so involved with these questions that I both wanted to enjoy the evening and didn’t want to at the same time.  Once again, a dichotomy of emotions was prevalent.

While I have had ample time to reflect on all of these emotions since being in Berlin’s emotionally dichotomist city, I have come to several valuable conclusions.  One of the most important of these is the benefit to implementing an element of sacrifice in one’s life.  After viewing the tragic state the prisoner’s were living in, I realized the strength and perseverance we as humans have that we may not realize we have unless tested.  After all, that’s what trials are, purposeful opportunities; opportunities to illuminate weaknesses in order to turn them into strengths, or challenge the strengths in order to turn them even stronger.  Whatever life circumstance you may find yourself in, I challenge you to bring in that element of sacrifice, see where it takes you.  But more importantly, see where you take it.  It is the trials that bring us victory.

Needless to say, it was an incredibly enjoyable evening

In response to my most recent post, God brought this blessing into my life:  http://bit.ly/99Z2nQ

In short, I am committing to feeding two beloved children a month.  Until another opportunity arises in which I can give on a more profound scale, this will be my commitment, my sacrifice, yet my greatest joy over the next few months.

“Give, and it will be given to you” –Luke 6:38

Whether you are abroad or home, I challenge each and every one of you to commit to something that challenges you; whether it is financially, emotionally, timely, or physically.

I’m praying for a challenge.

After looking at some photos of  individuals participating in other study abroad programs, I’m realizing more and more that there’s something I feel is missing from my experience.  After some questioning and prayer over the past couple of days, I was in a state of bafflement as to what could possibly be missing with regard to my experience.  I have my boyfriend of five years, two dear sorority sisters, and some new and emerging friendships taking place.  I’m even meditating on this at the most beautiful café in Reutlingen, drinking a cappuccino!  What more could I want?

But maybe that’s it–I have (most) everything I could want with me in Germany.  This very blessing has reaped so many benefits thus far and I thank God for them every day.  However, now that I’m almost a month into the trip, I’m ready to start bringing in an element of sacrifice or challenge every single day.  There have been (laundry) and will be (low-rated hostels) days that present several challenges and require of me certain sacrifices, but when the day does not call for it, I want to pursue it. Whether this pursuit is emotional or physical in nature is not of importance, what is of importance is that I am pursuing a greater purpose.

This idea became increasingly clear to me as I took a long run among paths I had yet to travel.  The sun set as my body shed goosebumps and I realized how truly lucky I was to have this experience–to be able to run along these paths–to be able to run at all.  It was a weird feeling to feel both blessed and guilty all at the same time.  I didn’t know what to make of those feelings I was experiencing, but I do know that my feelings of guilt could be energy toward action.

They say God works in mysterious ways, and I’m willing to bet that calling me to greater challenges is all a part of His plan.  I don’t know how or what this entails, but I know He prevails.

Here’s to a new perspective, and many new experiences to come!

The past two weeks have been absolutely crazy. With the class, we all went to Berlin for the entire week going to museums, palaces, and a concentration camp. By the end of the week my feet hurt, my thoughts were filled with historical information, and my whole body ached for sleep. In a brief overview, I visited the Checkpoint Charlie Museum, Neu Palais in Potsdam, Sachsenhausen concentration camp, Deutsches Historisches Museum, Jewish Holocaust Museum, Pergammon Museum, the Berlin Wall, and a lot of random tourist sites. With all of the rain that occurred that week, it made the time absolutely draining but totally worth it. The Berlin Wall at the East Side Gallery was especially amazing.

After all the craziness of Berlin, a couple of the girls decided to travel down to Wittenberg before going all the way to Augsburg for the weekend. The small town atmosphere was a welcome change after all the hustle and bustle of the capitol city. The entire town of Wittenberg was such a quaint area that was entirely devoted to Martin Luther. The Castle Church and the City Church were relatively easy to walk to and venture inside. I stood right over Luther’s grave and got a picture in front of the infamous doors where the 95 Theses were supposedly nailed. To imagine that the basis of my religion started here almost 500 years ago was truly mind blowing. Walking through his house made it all the more real since I was able to see one of the Bibles he had copied hundreds of years previous. It was, simply put, peaceful.

And then… more craziness. Probably the craziest of all craziness: Oktoberfest. Being there on opening day of the 200th Anniversary of the festival was most definitely the busiest day we could have picked to go there. People were everywhere, and we were lucky to get a table outside. We deserved it though since we got into the festival at 8:30am. Beer was officially served at noon, and the craziness just got crazier. We met some awesome people from Koln and elsewhere, and overall it was a great time to socialize with everyone. Although I am officially the most exhausted from traveling as I have ever been, every minute was worth it. Now to rest up for the next adventures in Dresden and Leipzig come Friday!

Couch Surfing, in its most basic definition, is essentially spending a night in a stranger’s house, which they offer for free. You find them through the couch surfing website, where both you and they have a profile.

Before I go any further, I would like to say to my mother, who is likely more than a little worried at this point that couch surfing is a very legitimate way to be housed for the night and is quite safe. I am convinced that she believes I do the craziest things, but is not really surprised. Pastor Chris sent me a quick email, saying that he added me to the prayer list and that my mom told him that if I went to the moon, she wouldn’t be surprised. Just so long as I call home when I get there.

Even so, there is little worry about couch surfing. On the website, www.couchsurfing.org, both people who are willing to open their homes and people looking for a place to stay create profiles about themselves and what they are looking for. The homeowner describes their home, when it is available and usually about themselves and what kind of people they want to host. They also include what the sleeping accommodations are like. The traveler creates a similar profile, about who they are, where they come from, and where they are going. The homeowner can then accept or reject a request from the traveler.

Almost every place we looked at in Saarbrücken (in Saarland, which is bordering France and Rhineland-Pfalz) seemed fine. Well….except for one. This particular guy wrote that he is only looking for hosting guys, you would sleep in the same room as him, and he requests “interesting and curious men”. No thank you.

It turned out that couch surfing was the best choice we made. Our host Elen met us at the train station and gave us a ride to her place, which was much appreciated after trekking all day with our heavy backpacking packs. She took us around the city and told us the places of interest, good bars and clubs, and some historical background. We even got to go into Saarland’s parliament and sit in the state president’s seat. Awesome.

Matt and I, who had to work on a class project on Saarland, arrived at about noon. We were a bit curious about how Elen could be spending so much time with people that she just met on a work day. It turns out that she is a police officer in the city, and was working later that night. Well Mom, you don’t needn’t worry about my safety on this trip!

The three of us went to a beer garden and chatted about the differences of life in America and Germany. Elen has never been to America, and even as a cop she could not believe that just about anyone can own a gun. Hurray second amendment! As a thank you for hosting us, we bought her dinner at a nice restaurant with amazing local food. I had about the best sauerkraut in my life.

Afterwards, Elen left for work and we headed on back home, and turned in for the night. She was asleep in the morning, but bought us French baguettes with chocolate on and in them. She was very thoughtful.
One more difference between America and Germany: as I hopped into the shower, I realized that the hot water heater was literally on the wall above the tub. As you turn the hot water on, you can see the flames heating the water. Strange.

Our trip to Saarbrücken was very pleasant, mostly due to Elen’s kindness. I would certainly recommend couch surfing if you are looking to save some money and want to meet new people. Possibly not for the faint of heart, but Mom knows that has never been me.