Z is currently buried under about a foot of snow... or there abouts. It might be more, it might be less (I'm really a bad judge of these things), but after three full days of constant snowing and not shoveling due to the pulled groin muscle, it felt like I was shoveling through fifteen feet of snow this morning. (And I only shoveled because of church this afternoon. It's really no fun trudging through mounds of snow and getting wet and cold jeans/pants because of it, so I decided to be kind to the congregants and help out a little there. And now I'm paying for it!)
Anyway. It's been a good day. One of my favorite people from BB came to preach today. He's so kind and patient with my Slovak and smiles a lot and laughs and is just great in general. His wife has always kind of scared me, but I'm warming up to her as I've been able to interact with her a little more. Worship went well. It was a full onslaught of guitar, drums, bass and consistent singing by David and not so consistent singing by me (and the cold I'm battling really wasn't helping).
I'm pretty excited about the fact that Dasi is moving in this week. WOO HOO!!!!! It will be nice to a) have a partner in crime... er, I mean fellow co-worker; b) delegate tasks and not have to do it all myself; and c) have an immediate listening ear to moan and groan to at my beck and call. Okay, so maybe that last part isn't true, but it will be nice to not be doing all this alone for a while.
On a random note, today is my uncle's birthday. Not that he reads my blog or anything, but Všetko Najlepšie k Narodenie Uncle CJ!
Okay, enough of my randomness. I'm off to bed.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Word of Advice for the Day: Learn to Aim!
Today I experienced something totally disgusting. Okay, it was kind of funny until it became gross.
I went to Brezno do to some shopping at Tesco this morning. Since it's a twenty-thirty minute drive depending on the traffic, I had to use the bathroom really badly by the time I got there (the tea, smoothie for breakfast, barley green dose and several ounces of water had started to run its course). I got a cart and booked it for the restroom; as I was about to open the door when it opened and there before me stood this old man. I look at him and then the door to make sure I wasn't about to walk into the men's room, and he in turn was looking at me and the door realizing that he was in the wrong restroom. He kind of smiles and starts mumbling something to me while laughing; I was laughing too because it was funny. Until I walk into the lone stall. There was urine everywhere. All over the seat, the toilet, the floor. I was staring at it horrified, audibly saying "Are you kidding me?!" and wasn't able to bring myself to actually pee, while the urine in my own bladder was slowly retracting through the ureters back into the kidneys. As badly as I needed to go, there was no way I was about to go in that restroom. I considered using the guy's room, something that I have done before on a couple occasions in SK, but thought better of it incase there wasn't a lock. So I did my shopping and ran my errands in Brezno on a full tank, but it was worth doing potential damage to my bladder rather than trying to use a nasty bathroom and possibly getting some sort of weird disease or something.
I went to Brezno do to some shopping at Tesco this morning. Since it's a twenty-thirty minute drive depending on the traffic, I had to use the bathroom really badly by the time I got there (the tea, smoothie for breakfast, barley green dose and several ounces of water had started to run its course). I got a cart and booked it for the restroom; as I was about to open the door when it opened and there before me stood this old man. I look at him and then the door to make sure I wasn't about to walk into the men's room, and he in turn was looking at me and the door realizing that he was in the wrong restroom. He kind of smiles and starts mumbling something to me while laughing; I was laughing too because it was funny. Until I walk into the lone stall. There was urine everywhere. All over the seat, the toilet, the floor. I was staring at it horrified, audibly saying "Are you kidding me?!" and wasn't able to bring myself to actually pee, while the urine in my own bladder was slowly retracting through the ureters back into the kidneys. As badly as I needed to go, there was no way I was about to go in that restroom. I considered using the guy's room, something that I have done before on a couple occasions in SK, but thought better of it incase there wasn't a lock. So I did my shopping and ran my errands in Brezno on a full tank, but it was worth doing potential damage to my bladder rather than trying to use a nasty bathroom and possibly getting some sort of weird disease or something.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Apparently, the police don't wear seat belts...
Okay, this is just becoming comical. The following is a summation of my morning:
7:30 a.m. About to go run. Doorbell rings. Pan Martin the policeman is standing by the gate saying something to me. I unlock/open the gate and let him in. I make him coffee, he starts asking me about the theft two weeks ago. Come to find out three people are involved (not just two as originally thought) and over the course of the last three months have stolen more than what we noticed. Pan Policeman has three written and signed confessions from the boys. I'm just staring at him incredulously. He starts asking me about the house, who owns it, who lives there, who the tools belong to, if I keep the gate and house locked or open, what kind of meetings we have in the house, blah, blah, blah. I answer him as best as I can... then have to go find a dictionary because I stop recognizing words. He ends up calling his aunt who speaks English and we continue with the questions. He needs to type something up and print it off; can't find original document on his usb drive and the computer in the house with the printer isn't working. SO, he asks me to come to the police station with him. (Oh goody!) I quickly change clothes 'cause I was still in my running clothes and brush my teeth; he loads all his stuff up and we head out the door.
I lock up the house and get in his car and can't find the seat belt. I'm told the police don't have to wear seat belts. Cool. We leave Z and head to Pohorela (another village to the east of us) to pick up his aunt from her home, which is across the street from his home, to help translate. We arrive in Pohorelska Maša where the station is and sit for about an hour while the policeman types up the new report documenting what's been stolen and what's been returned while his aunt and I answer the occasional question or clarify things. I sign six documents and then we leave. The aunt is dropped off at home, and then the policeman brings me home.
Though it was a wild morning of the unexpected, I should mention some things. One, riding shotgun in the police car minus a seat belt while flying though tiny villages was fan-freakin'-tastic! Two, the policeman himself was really friendly and smiled and laughed a lot, and was very patient with my horrible Slovak and his limited English (you don't find that too often among the police here); he even told me to call him by his first name instead of Mr. _____ by the middle of us trying to communicate with one another. Three, I had a lovely conversation with the aunt of the policeman; she is Slovak married to an Egyptian whom she met while living in Egypt for eight years, and she speaks French, English, Slovak, and a little Aramaic. We enjoyed briefly discussing the Gypsies, communism, Slovaks, Catholicism v Protestantism, Mormons, Texas, American v Slovak weather and education. She has a brother who speaks English and works in Z in one of the government offices, so she said she would tell him about me as he would be a potentially good contact should I need anything. Woo hoo! Never hurts to have contacts like that.
7:30 a.m. About to go run. Doorbell rings. Pan Martin the policeman is standing by the gate saying something to me. I unlock/open the gate and let him in. I make him coffee, he starts asking me about the theft two weeks ago. Come to find out three people are involved (not just two as originally thought) and over the course of the last three months have stolen more than what we noticed. Pan Policeman has three written and signed confessions from the boys. I'm just staring at him incredulously. He starts asking me about the house, who owns it, who lives there, who the tools belong to, if I keep the gate and house locked or open, what kind of meetings we have in the house, blah, blah, blah. I answer him as best as I can... then have to go find a dictionary because I stop recognizing words. He ends up calling his aunt who speaks English and we continue with the questions. He needs to type something up and print it off; can't find original document on his usb drive and the computer in the house with the printer isn't working. SO, he asks me to come to the police station with him. (Oh goody!) I quickly change clothes 'cause I was still in my running clothes and brush my teeth; he loads all his stuff up and we head out the door.
I lock up the house and get in his car and can't find the seat belt. I'm told the police don't have to wear seat belts. Cool. We leave Z and head to Pohorela (another village to the east of us) to pick up his aunt from her home, which is across the street from his home, to help translate. We arrive in Pohorelska Maša where the station is and sit for about an hour while the policeman types up the new report documenting what's been stolen and what's been returned while his aunt and I answer the occasional question or clarify things. I sign six documents and then we leave. The aunt is dropped off at home, and then the policeman brings me home.
Though it was a wild morning of the unexpected, I should mention some things. One, riding shotgun in the police car minus a seat belt while flying though tiny villages was fan-freakin'-tastic! Two, the policeman himself was really friendly and smiled and laughed a lot, and was very patient with my horrible Slovak and his limited English (you don't find that too often among the police here); he even told me to call him by his first name instead of Mr. _____ by the middle of us trying to communicate with one another. Three, I had a lovely conversation with the aunt of the policeman; she is Slovak married to an Egyptian whom she met while living in Egypt for eight years, and she speaks French, English, Slovak, and a little Aramaic. We enjoyed briefly discussing the Gypsies, communism, Slovaks, Catholicism v Protestantism, Mormons, Texas, American v Slovak weather and education. She has a brother who speaks English and works in Z in one of the government offices, so she said she would tell him about me as he would be a potentially good contact should I need anything. Woo hoo! Never hurts to have contacts like that.
Monday, January 25, 2010
"You Are Very Beauty"
Yesterday afternoon I was hanging out with some of the youth from the church and we were standing around outside (freezing) trying to figure out what to do. As we're standing around talking, a few guys from the village show up and start talking to us. (This is common practice here as everyone hangs out outside as there's not much to do besides go to the pub and drink.) One of the guys figures out I'm not Slovak (I'm not saying much during all this) and asks me if I speak English. The conversation went something like this:
Guy: "Do you speak English?"
Me: "Yes"
Guy: "Where are you from, please?"
Me: "Texas"
Guy: "Texas?!"
Me: "Yes"
Guy: "I'm from Lithuania." [I have no idea if that's true or not]
Me, not knowing what to say exactly: "Good for you"
Guy, looking confused and then: "You are very beauty"
Me, gritting my teeth: "Uh, thanks"
Guy: "Do you have boy?"
Me, wishing like never before I could lie: "No"
Guy: "So you're free?"
Me, reluctantly: "Yes"
Guy: "Do you have boy?"
Me, wishing like never before I could lie: "No"
Guy: "So you're free?"
Me, reluctantly: "Yes"
Guy: "Will you go out with me?"
Me, without hesitation: "No"
Guy: "No?! Why not?"
Me: "I don't know you; I don't go out with strange guys"
Guy: "Where you go now?"
Me, wishing this would end: "I don't know"
Guy: "Come home with me; we can talk and be open with each other"
Me: "No, sorry"
Guy: "But it's my house; we can be open and talk"
Me: "Sorry, answer's still no"
Guy, moving closer to me with slightly puckered lips: "Can I kiss you?"
Me, moving back and slightly horrified: "No!"
Guy, seeming confused but determined: "No?"
Me, rather firmly: "No!"
Guy, seeming confused but determined: "No?"
Me, rather firmly: "No!"
Guy, seeming hurt but recovering: "Oh, you are very beauty"
Me: "So you've said"
Guy: "I think we will meet again"
Me, thinking not on purpose, bucko!: "Maybe"
Guy, continuing to stare at me and getting a little too excited: "Maybe?!" (This is when I stopped talking and just kept quiet; eventually he and his posse left.)
Ugh. It didn't help matters that every single person there was laughing the whole time the conversation was going on, especially if they understood English. In hindsight it's hysterical, but at the time not so much. I've decided I'm going to start wearing a paper bag over my head from now on when I leave the house.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Muddled Brain
I went to bed last night and woke up this morning with what seemed like a million thoughts running through my mind. I can't quite put into words yet what they all mean, but I do know this: I could use and appreciate any prayers on my behalf for wisdom, discernment and guidance. I have a lot of evaluating and figuring out to do of my current situation as both a missionary and as a "keep houser*" of the ministry here in Zavadka, and I'm not even sure where to begin... or how long it should/will take... but I don't want to just throw these thoughts away as I feel the Lord prompting me to look, consider, evaluate, discern, and, eventually, maybe figure out... or at least get an idea of what I'm supposed to be figuring out. I know this post is totally cryptic and reveals much without revealing anything, so I'm sorry. But like I said, I can't quite put into words yet what's going on in that muddled brain of mine. However, thank you in advance for your thoughts and prayers!
*a non-native English speaker called me, in English, the "keep houser" in Zavadka on accident when meaning the "house keeper," but it was rather hysterical and endearing all at the same time and no one had the heart to correct it, so it stuck and became the joke amongst those of us present at the time.
*a non-native English speaker called me, in English, the "keep houser" in Zavadka on accident when meaning the "house keeper," but it was rather hysterical and endearing all at the same time and no one had the heart to correct it, so it stuck and became the joke amongst those of us present at the time.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Coming Out of the Nerd Closet
Sister one (who, it should be noted, is beyond wonderful and amazing) sent me season one of "Fringe" for Christmas and while I'm only five episodes in, I'm enjoying it so far. Its creator is none other than J. J. Abrams of "Lost" and more recently "Star Trek" fame, and while some of his "oh that's obviously J. J. Abrams" quirks come through, "Fringe" itself is totally different, and better in my opinion, than Lost. In my closet nerdishness (which I suppose is now not so closet-like anymore) I'm finding that a little sci-fi, a little Kirk Acevedo ("Band of Brothers" anyone?!), a little John Noble (quirky yet lovable) and loads of sarcasm and cynicism is adding up to be a nice little package of comfort. (And I have to admit that Joshua Jackson's proving to hold his own in this show; I wasn't a fan of the whole "Dawson's Creek" soap opera era of his, nor have I been a fan of anything since.)
And since I'm on the subject of sci-fi, I've been reading a couple books based on the Star Trek series that sister one sent me. The books are all right and leave me with a desire to watch the shows, which of course I don't have. Out of all the series that were made, "The Next Generation" is probably my favorite. There is nothing more comforting than watching Patrick Stewart and his wonderfully shiny, bald head and great british accent command the U.S.S. Enterprise... and ask for "Tea. Earl Gray, hot." (And yes, I do realize I'm taking my nerdishness to a whole new level here.) And even though the series killed off my favorite character, Tasha Yar, (though I do realize that Denise Crosby left the show due to her role getting smaller), I still love it. It's just fun, nerdy goodness.
And since I'm on the subject of sci-fi, I've been reading a couple books based on the Star Trek series that sister one sent me. The books are all right and leave me with a desire to watch the shows, which of course I don't have. Out of all the series that were made, "The Next Generation" is probably my favorite. There is nothing more comforting than watching Patrick Stewart and his wonderfully shiny, bald head and great british accent command the U.S.S. Enterprise... and ask for "Tea. Earl Gray, hot." (And yes, I do realize I'm taking my nerdishness to a whole new level here.) And even though the series killed off my favorite character, Tasha Yar, (though I do realize that Denise Crosby left the show due to her role getting smaller), I still love it. It's just fun, nerdy goodness.
Monday, January 18, 2010
A Theft and the Police
Okay, let it be known (and officially recorded) that I hate living out of suitcases and boxes. I can't find anything! It drives me batty to say the least. But that's not why I'm posting.
This post is kind of long; I do apologize about that, but bear with me here.
The last week has been... interesting. Thursday was the most frustrating and intense day, though. It all started last Sunday when two guys walked into the house and stole things (which I didn't know what at the time) during church. I only know this because the guest pastor's wife was sitting in her car with sleeping children and witnessed the whole thing, but didn't realize they were stealing as they were inside long enough to make it seem like they checked in with me (or whomever) and were borrowing things. The wife told her husband who told me who reported it to the home owners.
Tuesday Charles arrived from America. He knew things had been stolen, but because I didn't know what he didn't know what. Early Thursday afternoon the car returned from the mechanic (with an exorbitant amount of money having been spent on inspection, replacing a rusted out suspension system and bad brakes) and while Charles was putting the car back into the garage and doing some picking up/cleaning, he noticed his tool box and power drills were missing. I haven't used them thus far, so putting two and two together he knew that's what had been stolen. Let's just say he was less than pleased and seemed especially peeved towards me.
By Thursday evening (when Charles was a little less angry/upset) he decided to call the police and report the theft because of the expense of the items. The police were called and two officers were sent to the house. Charles explained what was taken, I explained what happened, and my dear friend who was staying with us was translating. The policemen (surprisingly nice, kind and helpful) ended up making a phone call to Brezno (the nearest major city to Z) to request the captain come on out to Z. Well, he shows up with a colleague (a woman) and a photographer (a man). So the house is crawling with these men, statements are being taken, notes are being written down and pictures are being taken for documentation.
On a side note, the captain for the crime unit (or whatever it's called here) was probably between 28-30, a former teacher, spoke English as he spent two years in England and was very good looking. I decided as much as I don't like run-ins with the police, he could very well be the exception to that rule.
Okay, back to the story. The two policemen who originally came out left as the captain took over. One of my other friends showed up to say hi and I put her to work on the phone trying to figure out who exactly came in late to church (there was a group of five or six guys who came in after we had already started) and sure enough two names were being thrown around throughout the whole village (gossip spreads like wildfire around here, so even though we were in the process of reporting stolen items everyone knew about it already) as the guilty party. Charles was asked to go to the station to file an official report and asked my friend who was translating to go with him; she in turn asked me to go with them so as not to be alone. My other friend had bolted to avoid the mess. So Peter (the hotty-pants captain), Charles, my friend and I loaded into the car and traveled to Brezno (this is where we found out about Peter's background). Once in Brezno, we sat in Peter's office for what seemed like two hours (though in reality is was probably only 45-60 minutes) filing an official report. But there was a catch: because Charles was leaving to go back to America in a few short days, kapitán policeman needed someone else who would actually be in Slovakia to be the person filing the report. Well, you guessed it. That job fell to me. So there is now an official report of theft with my signature scrawled all over it.
By the time we left Brezno and headed back to Z news had flown all through the village that the police were now involved and two names had been given as to the "who done it." (Although what people didn't know was that the names were not in the actual report, but written down as "persons of interest" to be looked into should it be necessary.) As we pulled up to the house, the two accused guys were there waiting with the tool box but denying that they took it. I let Charles deal with them and put the car in the garage and locked up for the night. One of the guys has a record with the police as it is, so he was scared by the fact that Charles actually filed with them; I don't know about the other guy. Charles told them unless the rest of the tools showed up, the report and charges would stand.
I don't know what's happened with everything at this point. I left Friday morning for Nové Zamky (in southern Slovakia) to visit some friends of mine and didn't return until this afternoon. If the power drills have not been returned, then I have to go back to the police station and file a second report (though I'm not sure why, but this is apparently something that I have to do per the captains instructions when we left Thursday night). The only upside to that is that I get to enjoy looking at the tall man with sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. (I know, I know, I'm terrible! But I'm human, so give me a break. And don't get any ideas; he's not a believer (didn't know what a pastor was), so nothing's going to happen there.)
So that was my Thursday evening/night. By the end of it, my friend and I went from being so stressed out about everything to laughing about everything we couldn't go to sleep. We laid in bed not being able to breathe we were laughing so hard. And I think what we found the funniest was that my friend thought the guy was really good looking too, so we were comparing notes and sharing what we where thinking the whole time sitting in his office (which was often the same thing) and just laughing about how ridiculous we were being. It was very therapeutic, honestly.
This post is kind of long; I do apologize about that, but bear with me here.
The last week has been... interesting. Thursday was the most frustrating and intense day, though. It all started last Sunday when two guys walked into the house and stole things (which I didn't know what at the time) during church. I only know this because the guest pastor's wife was sitting in her car with sleeping children and witnessed the whole thing, but didn't realize they were stealing as they were inside long enough to make it seem like they checked in with me (or whomever) and were borrowing things. The wife told her husband who told me who reported it to the home owners.
Tuesday Charles arrived from America. He knew things had been stolen, but because I didn't know what he didn't know what. Early Thursday afternoon the car returned from the mechanic (with an exorbitant amount of money having been spent on inspection, replacing a rusted out suspension system and bad brakes) and while Charles was putting the car back into the garage and doing some picking up/cleaning, he noticed his tool box and power drills were missing. I haven't used them thus far, so putting two and two together he knew that's what had been stolen. Let's just say he was less than pleased and seemed especially peeved towards me.
By Thursday evening (when Charles was a little less angry/upset) he decided to call the police and report the theft because of the expense of the items. The police were called and two officers were sent to the house. Charles explained what was taken, I explained what happened, and my dear friend who was staying with us was translating. The policemen (surprisingly nice, kind and helpful) ended up making a phone call to Brezno (the nearest major city to Z) to request the captain come on out to Z. Well, he shows up with a colleague (a woman) and a photographer (a man). So the house is crawling with these men, statements are being taken, notes are being written down and pictures are being taken for documentation.
On a side note, the captain for the crime unit (or whatever it's called here) was probably between 28-30, a former teacher, spoke English as he spent two years in England and was very good looking. I decided as much as I don't like run-ins with the police, he could very well be the exception to that rule.
Okay, back to the story. The two policemen who originally came out left as the captain took over. One of my other friends showed up to say hi and I put her to work on the phone trying to figure out who exactly came in late to church (there was a group of five or six guys who came in after we had already started) and sure enough two names were being thrown around throughout the whole village (gossip spreads like wildfire around here, so even though we were in the process of reporting stolen items everyone knew about it already) as the guilty party. Charles was asked to go to the station to file an official report and asked my friend who was translating to go with him; she in turn asked me to go with them so as not to be alone. My other friend had bolted to avoid the mess. So Peter (the hotty-pants captain), Charles, my friend and I loaded into the car and traveled to Brezno (this is where we found out about Peter's background). Once in Brezno, we sat in Peter's office for what seemed like two hours (though in reality is was probably only 45-60 minutes) filing an official report. But there was a catch: because Charles was leaving to go back to America in a few short days, kapitán policeman needed someone else who would actually be in Slovakia to be the person filing the report. Well, you guessed it. That job fell to me. So there is now an official report of theft with my signature scrawled all over it.
By the time we left Brezno and headed back to Z news had flown all through the village that the police were now involved and two names had been given as to the "who done it." (Although what people didn't know was that the names were not in the actual report, but written down as "persons of interest" to be looked into should it be necessary.) As we pulled up to the house, the two accused guys were there waiting with the tool box but denying that they took it. I let Charles deal with them and put the car in the garage and locked up for the night. One of the guys has a record with the police as it is, so he was scared by the fact that Charles actually filed with them; I don't know about the other guy. Charles told them unless the rest of the tools showed up, the report and charges would stand.
I don't know what's happened with everything at this point. I left Friday morning for Nové Zamky (in southern Slovakia) to visit some friends of mine and didn't return until this afternoon. If the power drills have not been returned, then I have to go back to the police station and file a second report (though I'm not sure why, but this is apparently something that I have to do per the captains instructions when we left Thursday night). The only upside to that is that I get to enjoy looking at the tall man with sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. (I know, I know, I'm terrible! But I'm human, so give me a break. And don't get any ideas; he's not a believer (didn't know what a pastor was), so nothing's going to happen there.)
So that was my Thursday evening/night. By the end of it, my friend and I went from being so stressed out about everything to laughing about everything we couldn't go to sleep. We laid in bed not being able to breathe we were laughing so hard. And I think what we found the funniest was that my friend thought the guy was really good looking too, so we were comparing notes and sharing what we where thinking the whole time sitting in his office (which was often the same thing) and just laughing about how ridiculous we were being. It was very therapeutic, honestly.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Child of the 90s
On iTunes right now there's this music package of "90s One Hit Wonders," and as I was perusing through them I couldn't help but laugh as the songs not only took me back to my days of misspent youth, but also because out of seventy-five songs, I knew at least seventy of them (though I didn't necessarily like all of them). It was nostalgic.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
What's a girl to do?
There are days when a girl just needs her sister. And there are days when a girl just needs her dad. And today this girl needed both. So what's a girl to do? Pick up the phone and call, that's what. And call this girl did. And it made everything so much better.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
"I AM"
I had my first bad-weather-driving experience yesterday. I was driving to Bystrica with some of the youth from the church here as we were meeting with the pastor in BB. The roads were less than ideal with snow and patches of ice and whatnot, and somewhere between Beňuš and Brezno (which means nothing to a majority of you, I know) I was on a curve when it finally registered I was on nothing but ice and the car was spinning towards the opposite side of the road where there was nothing but a ditch. I started frantically turning the wheel (though which direction I don't know) trying to remember all the tips for driving on ice and snow, which I couldn't as my mind was slowly going blank. The only thing I remember was hitting the brakes (which I now know is a BAD idea) and thinking I was about to destroy a car that didn't belong to me and possibly injure or kill everyone in the car, including myself. We spun 180 degrees into the other lane where, by His providence, there was no oncoming traffic, slid onto the "shoulder" (a term I use very loosely), and stalled out inches away from the edge of the ditch facing the direction from where we'd just come. When the car slid to a stop and stalled out, I just sat there for a few seconds (though it felt like twenty), gripping the steering wheel, shell shocked, shaking and not saying a word. Finally, I hear someone from the back say, "Emily, are you OK?" Even though I was internally screaming in between prayers of thankfulness to God for protection, I answered that I was fine, started the car back up, turned around and off we went. We had no other incidents the rest of the day, thank goodness. I'm convinced it was God who stopped the car; I can't explain it, but it literally felt like some thing, or one, put their hands or body along the side of the car and stopped the slide dead in its tracks. In other words, it was if we hit something just mere inches from the edge of the road without the damage or injury of hitting something. I know that sounds weird, but it's true. As I was thinking about what had happened on the way back to Z after our meeting, God used that time to remind me that He is. He is protection. He is comfort. He is refuge. He is strength. He is a provider. He is truth. He is trust. He is a shield. He is humility. He is might. He is love. He is mercy. He is justice. He is hope. He is forgiveness. He is compassion. He is kindness. He is Lord and Savior. He IS. And as I thought about it, He admonished me: Emily, I AM. And I am all you need. When are you going to really believe and trust that? Ouch. A very humbling moment, that's for sure. I pray I don't forget it and am thankful for the reminder, even if it came after a very nerve-racking, near car-totaling, possibly life-injuring experience.
A New Year
Okay, so it's been a while since I've blogged. With Christmas, New Year's, and everything in between, I haven't had the urge to sit and write, which is odd as there is much I could blog about as much has happened in the last two weeks. Here are a few "tidbits"...
1. Christmas was amazing. I spent it with a Roma family in Zavadka and got very fat and happy eating potato salad (though not as good as Nela's, my Slovak mama), fish and chicken, an assortment of cakes and partaking in my fair (and rather forced) share of beer and hruška (a distilled pear liquor that is quite potent). I attended Christmas morning Mass at the local village church here and then enjoyed and participated in the Christmas program at our church, which was totally great and encouraging. On a side note, I received a fabulous package full of goodies (books, a TV series on DVD, Christmas ornaments, tea I can actually drink, a beanie to keep my head warm, a special cross-stitched doily with my initials in orange no less, a monthly planner, chap stick, earrings picked out by the nieces, etc.) sister one and her family sent me. I am enjoying the benefits of said box immensely! Thank you!!!!!!!
2. New Year's was equally fun. I danced, sang and partied it up until well after two in the morning with the gypsies. And was forced to drink drank hruška, apple wine (it was so gross), chocolate cherry liqueur (it reminded me of these nasty chocolate covered cherries that always show up at my aunt's house at Christmas time; it was all I could do to choke it down) followed by at least three or four glasses of champaign between midnight and two in the morning (fortunately in sherry glasses, not champaign flutes). I kind of lost track of how much I drank and had a pounding head as I walked home. Fortunately, no hangover in the morning, which came about four hours after I went to bed as three kids rang my doorbell at nine in the morning to wish me a happy new year. I was assured this was normal procedure in the village. I'll take their word for it.
3. I had the most annoying experience a few days ago when I woke up in the middle of the night with a rather odd, painful sensation on my nose. I was on my back (which is weird since I'm a side sleeper) and when I finally came into consciousness, the cat, Ollie, was standing on my chest, claws out, swatting at my nose and then leaning down and biting/chewing it. It took me a couple seconds to realize what was going on, but when I did I was less than pleased. Stupid cat. I ended up throwing him out in the garage for the rest of the night.
4. I enjoyed three days of vacation in Bystrica between Christmas and New Year's with a family from my old church there. It was relaxing, restful, refreshing, and just fun. I was able to sleep in, read, talk a little about life and ministry, watch movies, veg out, eat some amazing Slovak food, see a movie at the cinema (we went and saw "Avatar" in 3D, but didn't realize we went to the version dubbed in Slovak, which lost some of it's already lack of appeal for me) and turn my mind off of the constant to-do lists, cleaning, preparing, ministering, etc. that I do here in Z. It was totally great.
1. Christmas was amazing. I spent it with a Roma family in Zavadka and got very fat and happy eating potato salad (though not as good as Nela's, my Slovak mama), fish and chicken, an assortment of cakes and partaking in my fair (and rather forced) share of beer and hruška (a distilled pear liquor that is quite potent). I attended Christmas morning Mass at the local village church here and then enjoyed and participated in the Christmas program at our church, which was totally great and encouraging. On a side note, I received a fabulous package full of goodies (books, a TV series on DVD, Christmas ornaments, tea I can actually drink, a beanie to keep my head warm, a special cross-stitched doily with my initials in orange no less, a monthly planner, chap stick, earrings picked out by the nieces, etc.) sister one and her family sent me. I am enjoying the benefits of said box immensely! Thank you!!!!!!!
2. New Year's was equally fun. I danced, sang and partied it up until well after two in the morning with the gypsies. And was forced to drink drank hruška, apple wine (it was so gross), chocolate cherry liqueur (it reminded me of these nasty chocolate covered cherries that always show up at my aunt's house at Christmas time; it was all I could do to choke it down) followed by at least three or four glasses of champaign between midnight and two in the morning (fortunately in sherry glasses, not champaign flutes). I kind of lost track of how much I drank and had a pounding head as I walked home. Fortunately, no hangover in the morning, which came about four hours after I went to bed as three kids rang my doorbell at nine in the morning to wish me a happy new year. I was assured this was normal procedure in the village. I'll take their word for it.
3. I had the most annoying experience a few days ago when I woke up in the middle of the night with a rather odd, painful sensation on my nose. I was on my back (which is weird since I'm a side sleeper) and when I finally came into consciousness, the cat, Ollie, was standing on my chest, claws out, swatting at my nose and then leaning down and biting/chewing it. It took me a couple seconds to realize what was going on, but when I did I was less than pleased. Stupid cat. I ended up throwing him out in the garage for the rest of the night.
4. I enjoyed three days of vacation in Bystrica between Christmas and New Year's with a family from my old church there. It was relaxing, restful, refreshing, and just fun. I was able to sleep in, read, talk a little about life and ministry, watch movies, veg out, eat some amazing Slovak food, see a movie at the cinema (we went and saw "Avatar" in 3D, but didn't realize we went to the version dubbed in Slovak, which lost some of it's already lack of appeal for me) and turn my mind off of the constant to-do lists, cleaning, preparing, ministering, etc. that I do here in Z. It was totally great.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)