Today

Tomorrow our team is celebrating American Thanksgiving. I didn't get a turkey at Canadian Thanksgiving this year, so I am double excited about tomorrow. And before I hit the hay, I thought I'd write down a couple of the many things I'm thankful from today:
-Getting to go toy store window shopping with my sister R today. She took the train into London, and we had a blast in the puppet section (the giraffe and ostrich puppets were my favourite to play with). Then we went back to being adultish and had tea and scones at Debbenhams. It was great.
-Mushroom soup and a good homemade sandwich that was provided for me.
-Blue sky. I'm learning to be more grateful for those blue patches when they come out.
-Getting to skype with a good friend/mentor and her daughter back home. That was just so good!

Thank You, Jesus.

An Ode to my Shower

Recently a friend stopped by,
and commented on my shower's size.

"I really don't know how you manage in there.
How do you shampoo and condition your hair?"

I gave a small chuckle and said in response,
"It was a struggle at first, but now not so much."

I admit that my shower is oh so very small.
In fact, it's probably the smallest of most shower stalls.

When I first moved in and observed its width,
I was concerned that I'd get stuck in it.

Once I got the hang of how it works,
the dial on its wall and some other quirks,

I was able to manage and even enjoy it,
even though I'm still unsure how the room managed to squeeze in a toilet.

The only big problem is its sudden change in temperature,
or when the water assumes a much less pressure.

But then I just step out, covered in soap,
and shiver while I wait for the boiler to heat up some more.

For didn't Seuss once say along the same lines,
that "A shower is a shower, no matter its size?"

I'm having another bout of homesickness today. I haven't been feeling well the past couple of days, and this morning I'm just missing Toronto people a lot and getting anxious about next year and not having a clue where I'll be or what I'll be doing. My tendency on these kind of days is to wake up and start pushing through the morning on my own, instead of being quick to take these burdens to Jesus. After running to the local store to pick up some things to make breakfast, I found myself sitting at the table crying with a heart that feels like it's in a knot. And it felt so good to just take it all to Jesus and ask Him to carry these burdens, and to protect me from giving into the tempting lies of Satan- that I'm not pretty enough or smart enough or normal enough. I knew from how I was feeling yesterday that it'd been a while since I'd had a good cry, and it felt good to let it out. I'm reading through the Psalms right now, and this morning's was from Psalm 50- "Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I shall rescue you, and you will honor Me." That's my heart's cry- I really want to honor Jesus with my life, in whatever He calls me to do, whether that's alone or with someone; whether it's here or there; whether it's doing a lot of sowing or getting to see some of the reaping. God give me strength.

My little soapbox

Jesus is the only way to the Source. I need to write that down and read it to myself. I just want to shout it from the rooftops today, or get on a soapbox and tell everyone. I just had a guy tell me that we're all trying to get to the Source, and that we can get there on our own.
"I've tried that," I responded. "It didn't work. I keep messing up, and it just pulls me into depression because I get so frustrated. I really need someone to carry me to God. That's why Jesus is the treasure of my heart and means everything to me, because I believe that He does just that."
"Jesus doesn't carry you to God. He's just another good prophet to look to as an example for how to live, but he can't actually take you to God. You just need to try harder," he said.

This is the theme of my heart and what I'll be proclaiming until the day I die, no matter what anyone says differently. Jesus means everything to me, and gives me the deepest and richest joy that I've ever known. That's my little soapbox speech for the day. :) Now I'm going to go back to Camden and hand out Bibles to people who come to the book table (NOT because it makes God love me more or helps me get to Him, but because He already broke through into my life and gave me real life, and I want to extend that to others now!). Just needed to do a bit of passionate shouting. Feel like I'm going to burst or something!

Breaking through

Another cultural difference...

Yesterday I was riding in the car with my friend J, who is British and works for another church in London.
Me: What were you up to yesterday?
J: Well, I spent some time painting the toilets at the church.
Me: You were painting the toilets? Isn't that pretty difficult and requires special paint? (I definitely had an image in my head of her painting designs all over the toilets)
J: Well, people have been wanting to redecorate the toilets and put towels up and such, so we've been working on painting them.
Me: Wait, they want to redecorate the toilets? Do you mean that you're painting the walls in the bathrooms of the church?
J: Yep, we're painting the toilets.

British Toilet= bathroom/washroom
After being here for 5 months, I'm surprised it's still taking me this long to realize that "toilets" refers to the room that the toilets are in, not the toilets themselves. But alas... :)

Lately I've been struggling with feeling like I've fallen through the cracks in life. Last night I was walking to the store and all of a sudden I felt like I got kicked in the stomach. It dawned on me that my whole support network and community that I've known and loved for so long isn't here. It's all new... It's like I'm starting over with everything. Making videos and emailing them to friends back home isn't the same as sitting across from them and laughing about something that happened 5 years ago. I can't find Halls in the grocerystore when my throat is sore. The accumulation of my material life is boxed up in a crawlspace in northern Ontario. They don't have toaster ovens here, and I don't have an oven. How do I make pizza? People ask me what I do for a living, and I don't know what to say now, but, "I help network for a churchplant." "What does that entail?" they ask. "Pretty much talking to people," I laugh. I can't call up my sister and ask if I can come up for the afternoon and hang out with her and the kids. Almost everyone is getting married or in serious relationships. I live in a city so crowded and huge that I feel like a speck walking down the street. Sometimes I just want to yell out, "We are all significant!" JESUS MAKES ME SIGNIFICANT. Everything else around me feels new, raw, unpredictable, and out of control. Sometimes I just want to scream. But Jesus is my significance. This is something I really long to know and believe deeply. If Jesus doesn't make me significant, then what's the point of it all? He's the only thing worth living for, and with all this dying to self that I feel like I'm going through, He stands there with His arms wide open and says, "E, you belong to Me."