I GOT THE DENGUE FEVER!!!

I’m still smiling.

First off let me preface this by informing you all that I write this with the intention of posting it at a later date (if at all). It has been two weeks since leaving Home and First Lutheran and today I had my installation at the Church in Los Americas. It has been an eventful few days and as I was considering what to write the words were being constructed in Spanish (Even though I could not by any means reconstruct this blog in Spanish it is still encouraging to know that I am beginning to think in Spanish).

There have been a few things I have come to realize in my time here. First; how much this process is like being born again. I am totally and utterly dependent upon the good graces of my team and the kind people who have weathered the same storm I presently weather. Second, I am beginning to form theological concepts of what mercy really is and what it really means to be not just a missionary but a Christian. 

Today was quite possibly the most eventful day I have had. It began with breakfast at an all inclusive resort (Tough job, I know). The foundation, or rather those who helped start, form, and support the mission were all in the capitol and had arrived from the states. We held meetings for two days at an inexpensive resort in order to give reports on the workings of the mission. After breakfast everybody packed up and we all went to church. It was really hot today and I sweat a ton throughout the service, it didn’t help that I had the full diakional regalia on. 

Okay! Long story short, I got really sick today. I got so hot and cold, achey and nauseous. My head was throbbing all the way home from the capitol city (which was about a three hour drive). My eyes were rolling into the back of my head and I still have this pain in my head. It could be dehydration with heat stroke or something else, all I know is that there were moments today where I was wondering if I was going to start convulsing and foaming at the mouth. 

In addition to all this we paid a trip to a mental hospital. This is where it starts to get good; I didn’t know what to expect upon arriving at this place, it was sort of impromptu. The first things I noticed was a younger woman who was wondering around free and obviously was excited to have guests. She didn’t have complete control of her body and she could not speak in coherent sentences. There were a lot of shocking things in this hospital such as grown men and women who had been reduced to laying in cribs and in diapers all day with little to no human contact. There were men who were left naked to roam the hospital. There was a smell similar to what you would smell when you go to the zoo. The place smelled like the beds were saturated in urine and the diapers were full of defecation. I held hands with a woman who would giggle and smile at just the gentle stroke of a hand upon her arm. 

All this comes together to make a point; not what a wonderful person I am for coming to the DR to stroke the faces and hold the hands of abandoned children, (Because in all honesty I haven’t done much of that) but to make the point that today I saw what it is all about. In all honesty this realization frightened me a bit. What I mean by that is this; I stated earlier how the whole day I was really sick. These past few weeks I have been worthless. I have had my hand held by faithful members of my team as I go to and from Spanish class. I have been carted from place to place. I have been given a beautiful room, a warm welcome, and an amazing invitation into a team and family I could not have picked myself or been more blessed in. I have been amazingly lavished not in the luxuries and amenities of an all inclusive hotel but in the love of a team who has carried me and said “This is what being a missionary and a Christian is all about.” The patience and love my team has shown me in repeating several times the words I fail to remember, in patiently developing the plans for my future and investing in me to make sure that I can better know and understand the grace and mercy of God. 

I found myself after attending the hospital asking myself; “what does this all mean.” I didn’t want to admit what it meant. After visiting that hospital I thought about how the people I encountered there relate to a message and a gospel that we as Christians bear. It dawned on me that were Christ present in this situation, he would make his dwelling among them and invest time, energy, and resources to make that sweet message known. Then I panicked because if you break it down more; Christ is present. He dwells in all of us! His grace and His mercies are shown in and through us. In the way my team cares for me even when I have done nothing to deserve it. Christ is seen in the way my team cared for the people in the hospital today unhindered by the brokeness that surrounded them but diligently pressing forward and thinking “how do we work with this?” 

Point is, Christ Lives! He is very real and if you ever think for a moment that you have no part in bearing witness to that then you have been sadly mistaken. We have been amazingly blessed by the father and given to share the wonderful saving news in big and small ways. It is encouraging to see so many signs along the camino that say “Christo Vive” which means “Christ Lives.” It is a message we continually need to return to because it is a present thing! It isn’t stuck in the past. It is happening here! It is happening now! It isn’t just a sweet reminder on the side of the road for drivers. It is a reality that impacts our everyday life. His life is made known and is happening in and among his children. 

I figure I may as well do this now since I don't know when I will get a chance to do this again

Cool morning shadows sadly shift across the floor
Each time we say goodbye it's harder than before
Even after all the pain of parting still we find
That we must mourn the death of the dreams we leave behind
As I turn my back on all that means the most to me
The sounds and smells, the light that dances on the sea
The greatest gamble is to act on the belief
That only the slave who leaves it all is truly free

The sacrifice that we both lay before His feet
A thousand moments that belonged to us
That now will never be

By faith we hold a better dream inside our hearts
A time when our family will never have to be apart
Till then we struggle with just what it really means
And we will mourn the death of our beautiful dreams
Mourn the death of our beautiful dreams

The above is a little song by Michael Card from his Album "A Fragile Stone." It is an album that not only Biblically explores the life of Peter (πετροσ=Peter, πετρο=rock (or stone;)) but also speculates of the emotions and life of one included in the mission of the early Church in Christ. Let me preface this by saying I love this song, and often listen to it before leaving my family and friends. My mother, on the other hand, does not believe it to be an uplifting and accurate portrayal of the life of a Christian. In many ways I understand where she is coming from. If you read my blog last month my sentiments on this are somewhat expressed. The life of a Christian does not know ownership of dreams, ownership of moments, the mourning of the things of this world, or gambling this life for the next. No; the Christian holds firm to those promises offered in Christ and knows without grief, pain and struggle. We do this because we know the One we place our faith in is stronger and promises far more than we could ever hope for or build for ourselves. 

This week has been a trying week for me. It is the week before my departure for the Dominican Republic. I thus far have been a trooper and not cried too much, although today got the better of me. I requested the prayers of my fellow church workers on facebook and within minutes I had an overwhelming response from God's faithful people which made me  not only cry but realize something; there is great paradox for me in this transition. I have to shamefully admit that the above song is my song because I know the pain of parting, and the mourning of the death of dreams. I'm not talking about dreams like becoming a famous pastry chef, or opening a chocolate shop, or of loosing fifty pounds and meeting a man who thinks he is not worthy of me and makes me feel like I am every mans dream for a spouse. No, I am talking about dreams far more simple than that, like being around for Christmas, seeing June take her first steps, and Lucius begin to articulate the faith, and Frankie come to a point where he shares that faith with his brother and sister. I'm talking about the dreams of having hot cocoa in February when there is snow outside (even though I hate the cold). I'm talking about very basic things like comforts and luxuries and continuing education seminars and spending time with my dear friends and their children (you know who you are!). I mourn those things, but like Michael Card's conveyance of Peter, I do not mourn those things without hope. 

DO NOT... I REPEAT... DO NOT FEEL SORRY for me! Like Peter I would not give these things up were I not certain that what God has to offer is better. I would not give them up if I did not believe that they pale in comparison to the sacrifices Christ made for us. Therefore I cannot consider them sacrifices, but blessings. Blessings where I can know better the sacrifice that Christ made for us, blessings where I know He will draw near to me as I draw near to him. Blessings where He will give me another family to share in joys and sorrows with. Abundant blessings! I know I will reap far more than I give in this transition of moving to the Dominican Republic, but it doesn't lessen the blow of saying "goodbye" to those who raised me, watched me grow, and stood by me in calm and in storm (I know, I know, I WILL see my family and friends again, it isn't like they are gone for forever or like I am saying goodbye for forever). Do not feel sorry for me, but do pray for me. Pray that we can all know God's richest blessings made known in our needs. Pray that we would see "moments that once belonged to us" as moments that always belonged to God. Pray that we may know the fullness of our moments belonging to us when we return them to the giver of all good things who will take them and return them in ten fold. 

Thank you to all of you who read this blog, pray for me and the team I will serve with and on, and thank you for all who support the work being done in the Dominican Republic. We truly couldn't do what we do without your own sacrifices of time, money, and prayers. We are all united in this work together even though we are all separated by miles. I will be leaving October 1st and I can't tell you how excited I am! It doesn't come without times of doubting though which is why I need your prayers! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You are all a blessing to me! 
Ever His,
Katie Z.

Matthew 5

New King James Version (NKJV)

The Beatitudes

5 And seeing the multitudes, He went up on a mountain, and when He was seated His disciples came to Him. ² Then He opened His mouth and taught them, saying:

³ “Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
⁴ Blessed are those who mourn,
    For they shall be comforted.
⁵ Blessed are the meek,
    For they shall inherit the earth.
⁶ Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
    For they shall be filled.
⁷ Blessed are the merciful,
    For they shall obtain mercy.
⁸ Blessed are the pure in heart,
    For they shall see God.
⁹ Blessed are the peacemakers,
    For they shall be called sons of God.
¹⁰ Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake,
    For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

¹¹ “Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. ¹² Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." 

These words are on the American declaration of independence and held very dear as words of truth by so many. Words that may be threatened and rights that seem to be being infringed upon. Since having returned home, I have been sucked into all the political rantings and outcries of many Americans to regain "Our America!" I have to admit that I joined that throng and felt compelled by the speeches, the debates, and the cries of many Americans.  
I decided to exercise some of my civil liberties in going for a bike ride without a helmet! Risky, dangerous and a bit reckless I know. In fact this act got me thinking a bit about things taken for granted. It even got me thinking about my time in England. I started to think back to a hospital visit I made at Addenbrookes. I will set the stage in telling it like a story;

I got the name on my list. I reviewed the notes on this particular patient. I recall trying to visit this patient before and they were always out. I looked forward to getting to meet this particular patient because it seemed that the chaplains had some interesting visits with the family members of the patient. I was looking forward to this opportunity to show mercy and be present in this family's pain. The patient was about my age, which was another factor that excited me. She had had brain damage from an accident and remained somewhat unresponsive. The other chaplains however visited with her family whenever they visited and said prayers and offered comfort as the accident was sudden and left their daughter in a constant state of wondering if she would ever return to a fraction of the woman, daughter, sister, worker that she once was. 

I went to her room and couldn't really prepare myself for this encounter. First off, she was in her room and I wasn't expecting this. Second she was sitting upright and appeared to be alert with no other family around. I went in and introduced myself, no response. I noticed that her head was healed and hair was growing on a part of her head where her skull had been removed. She had a concave head on one side of her head. I told her about how I read the notes and was excited to meet her because I knew we must be about the same age, no response. I told her I don't get to see many patients my age, no response. I told her that I mostly see older people, no response. I paused as I began to ask myself a million questions. I wished there was back up for situations like this. I wondered if she could hear and understand me. I wondered what she was thinking. I began to wonder if she felt annoyed by me, or if she was jealous, or angry that they sent a girl about the same age as her to offer spiritual care. I looked at the pictures on the wall and noticed a very different person before me than the one in the pictures. Her pictures showed a mobile, vibrant youthful woman who had friends, good times and went to a lot of parties. Now the woman before me seemed trapped within an immobile body incapable of articulating wants or needs. I said a prayer over her and went to go process and reflect on what I had just experienced.

When I reflected on this side of the pond on that experience, I realize that we talk a lot about rights. Why is it that my "rights" though the same as many other Americans look very different based on the fact that at the end of the day, I'm the one walking out of the hospital? I would suggest it is because in the end, God (i.e. our endowing creator) did not give us rights. He gave us gifts. Each and every day is a gift, my house, my home, land animals, wife, and children; they are all gifts! Not rights, but gifts. As I cared for the sick and dying they reminded me of every gift I have taken for granted and should take advantage of for as long as God continues to give them. I think about all the people who can't walk while I am out running. I think of all the people who just found out they have a terminal illness and whose world seems to stop as I look to my own future. I think of all the people detained in a hospital or by disease as I am able to move forward with my life. While I lament things I never had, or haven't received I remember that there is also a lot that I have been given that I don't deserve. I thank God for the gifts he gives and I pray that I don't lament the things I don't have and I remember that the all that I have is not a right but a gift. 

Psalm 146:2-4

New King James Version (NKJV)

While I live I will praise the Lord; I will sing praises to my God while I have my being.  Do not put your trust in princes,Nor in a son of man, in whom there is no help. His spirit departs, he returns to his earth; In that very day his plans perish.

I am still readjusting to the Change!

Dear Friends, 

If you haven’t been keeping up (That is okay, my life is sort of like one of those shows you can pick up at any point. It’s not like watching a show where you have to know character “B’s” parents to know why character “Z” bought a tootsie roll at the 7/11) as I was saying; If you haven’t been keeping up with these blogs then I will fill you in with a word; “Transitional!” 

I realized last week how we are all in some form of transition. Event’s happen, people come and go, jobs come and go, purpose for our lives change sometimes by the hour, sometimes by the years. We are all Changing, transitioning, adjusting, and shifting. I don’t know what walks of life each person comes from, your shift may be transitioning from being a junior in high school to being a senior, It may be facing another year at a school that no longer holds the friends you used to hang out with. Transition may be getting married, or watching a child get married. Transition my be leaving the country or returning to a country. Transition for you may be a moving back in or out of your parents home. Transition may be a bit more grave such as facing a reformed future that includes radiation, chemotherapy, or some other treatment plan for illness. Transition may even be facing a reformed future without treatment because the one you loved is no longer in need because they have died. 

We all transition from the moment we open our eyes in the morning and begin to process information. We are changed by the influence of every outside stimulus we encounter. Most of us don’t like transitioning. Most of the time transitioning is our way of adjusting to a forced change in circumstances. A lot of the time we gloss it over with ideas like; “it just is what it is” “I can’t change it, so I just have to change” “It could be worse” “one day at a time” Sometimes however we are bold and willing to ask the more difficult questions and rebel against transitioning and we say things like; “I will change but I don’t have to like it” “Why do these things happen to me?” “What is the point of all this?” “How do I transition when I’m still stuck in shock?” 

Sometimes we even throw God into the mix and ask “WHY GOD!? WHY!?” This was something I faced a lot in hospital. What I realized is that in our “eternal why’s” what we are really seeking is control. Looking at the responses we see that transition is not just a way of adjusting, it is a way of regaining control. We always want to be in control of the transition that occurs in our lives. Here is what lead me to this conclusion:

Wednesday night I was spending time with my friends. One of them busted out her acoustic guitar and started playing hymns (you should see what we do on a Friday night!). In my heart was a restlessness that has always been present when I am with these friends. We are always transitioning and it is clear when we are together that it will never be for long before one of us has to go again. In the moments that we do share I often feel complete, whole, and peaceful, until I remember that these are only moments that will pass quite quickly. 

In our improvised concert we sang Hymn 849 (LSB) Praise The One Who Breaks the Darkness. In that song I was reminded that our whole lives are to be transitional. Not transitional as in something happens and we respond, but transitional in that something DID happen and therefor we are changed. Christ is the constant that we cling to in a world that throws so much at us to respond to. Christ is our game changer, our Healer, Comforter, King of Peace, and Chain breaker. When we ask “Why” of God like Job did, there isn’t anything wrong with that. What we need to realize is that the moments of transition are never so big that God aborts ship. He is right there with us. His transitions are far bigger than our own and He invites us to transition by being changed into a new Creation in HIM. Eyer writes in his book “Theology of the Cross” on how it is in our suffering that we understand to look for Christ instead of question Christ. If we didn’t recognize Christ in those moments of transition we missed the point. 

While is saddened me to reflect on the brevity of time I was to share with my friends I was reminded that just as our voices were joined as one in that wonderful hymn of reassurance, hope, and restoration, our voices would One Day be rejoined in songs of praise to The One Who Breaks the Darkness. We are liberated by the transitions that Christ offers. He gives us new for old, and frees us of the bondage of this worlds transitions. He offers the promise of fellowship with friends, a secure home in heaven, wholeness in our bodies, and a reunion with our loved ones. All the troubles this wold leave us lingering in and worried about will be wiped away for a new Glory, we wait for that day, for the GLORIOUS TRANSITION of one world to the next where we will all be made one, once and for all. 

1 Praise the One who break the darkness
With a liberating light;
Praise the One who frees the pris'ners
Turning blindness into sight.
Praise the One who preached the Gospel,
Healing ev'ry dread disease,
Calming storms, and feeding thousands
With the very Bread of peace.

2 Praise the One who blessed the children
With a strong, yet gentle word;
Praise the One who drove out demons
With the piercing two-edged sword.
Praise the one who brings cool water
To the desert's burning sand;
From this Well comes living water
Quenching thirst in ev'ry land.

3 Let us praise the Word incarnate,
Christ, who suffered in our place.
Jesus died and rose victorious
That we may know God by grace.
Let us sing for joy and gladness,
Seeing what our God has done;
Let us praise the true Redeemer,
Praise the One who makes us one.

ONE MORE THING: My blog allows me to see where people are reading from and how many people read this. I just want to say to everyone who reads this; You have NO IDEA how thankful I am for YOU! It literally brings tears to my eyes when I see that even one person has taken the time and interest to read my little theological reflections. Some of you I know, some of you I will only know when we meet face to face in heaven, but as you can probably tell from my writings; I CAN'T WAIT FOR THAT DAY!!! Thank you so much for reading!!! I am humbled! -Katie Z

IMPORTANT DATE!!! AUGUST 10TH AND 11TH

I have stooped to an all time low with this blog. This blog served me well while I was in England and now most of you know I am back in the States getting ready for the next part of my journey. The past few weeks have included a lot of packing and unpacking. Now begins a more daunting packing and unpacking. As I prepare to leave home once again and consider what it is that I will need for the journey I look at all I have collected along the way. My parents are trying to reduce the amount of stuff (to put it nicely) they have, in addition they are trying to help me out financially as I prepare to go to the Dominican Republic. Therefore they decided a garage sale would be a good idea. I agree! The process is exciting, and troubling at the same time. I have been going through my own boxes of stuff from the past 27 years. I really do mean the past 27 years too! Each box I open is a reminder of a few things:

1st - The things and stuff that have accumulated over the years
2nd- The amount of work attached to things
3rd- The binding and loosing we find in being attached to things
4th- The memories we attach to things
5th- The things we attach to memories
6th- The childhood I thought I could put in a box
7th- The hopes and dreams of one day owning a home and having a family boxed up and put in storage

All the things that I have, I have allowed to serve as a map to who I was and who I want to be. I saved my dolls, toys, pillows, pictures, awards, pots, pans and anything and everything else you can think of. From cards yet to be written, to cards sent to me on my fifth birthday, I have saved so much stuff. What is more is the condition I have attempted to preserve it all in. All my dolls were returned to their boxes from which they came when I first packed them up ten years ago in Worms NE and decided it was time I grow up. I preserved a piece of my childhood for ten years without looking at it until just recently. Now as I unpack these boxes I am faced with my past, present and future. My past being the joy I found in collecting these porcelain dolls, toys figurines and anything and everything else. I can tell you who gave me each thing, where it came from, when I received it, and why I found it to be so special. I look at all my stiff and think about how I boxed it all up with the intention of perhaps either placing into a place of my own, my own home or giving them to the daughter I had hoped to have. Now, today I look at the same dolls bearing in mind that I have no child or prospective spouse, and I remember that I can't take them with me.

Most of this stuff I have not laid eyes upon for the past ten years, and yet I have held them as a person holds insurance. Knowing that they were in a box in the basement was good enough for me as a promise of what was and what is to be. Today I embrace a different truth and promise. As I reflect on "things" and "stuff" and "junk" and "boxes" of cardboard intended to lock and seal in my hopes dreams and expectations, I realized that it is as King Solomon said; "Nothing but a grasping after the wind." I am trying to solidify in my identity the fact that my home is not a place where I can take these collections with me, in heaven or on earth. I have been called into a mission where I am freed from the burden of things. It is both law and gospel. I can look at the boxes and know I have been blessed abundantly and cling to the promise that therein lies, God will continue to bless me, the evidence is not just in the box but in the intangible truths attached to those things. The reminder that there were several people who loved me and gifted me with the unnecessary luxuries of dolls and toys.

 I can also be freed from the things as I cling to the promise that whether or not I have a home, family, kids, spouse, the contents of the box does not insure this but the Gift Giver God! The God who has given me my body, soul, eyes ears and all my members, my reason and all my senses and still takes care of them. I can trust in HIM! I can cling to HIM and moth and rust cannot destroy that promise and my faith. It is also a promise I revisit on a daily basis given to me in baptism which I return to every day of my life until they place the pall over my casket. God is the author and perfecter of my faith that is not contained within cardboard boxes or things. He is not bound by my own limited dreams of owning a home and having 15 kids and being married to a strawberry/peach farmer (when I was a child I reasoned like a child and I loved strawberries, peaches and the idea of a big family- so there you go!).  God is taking me on a journey and blessed me along the way. Like my mother said as we were working on some of the boxes; "Katie, it isn't the things that matter, in the end it's the people" and I would also like to add, "it's also the Promise."

Okay so this may not be supporting the cause for which I initially wrote this but the whole point of this was to really inform everyone that I am selling my childhood. Or rather, I am having a garage sale to help with funding my mission in the DR. So if you are interested in supporting me by buying some of my old dreams in support of a new one then e-mail me for the address of this sale. Thanks to everyone for all your prayers and support thus far. The sale will be Aug 10th and 11th so if you have a college kid and you need stuff for them or you have a little girl and are looking early for Christmas or birthday gifts, or you collect dolls, or do crafts of any kind, or are looking for antiques or a good bargain, e-mail me and I will send the details of the sale to you. kziegler1985@hotmail.com

So Thankful!!!

(This is my response to a facebook message my father sent me)

Dad, I know I have been given a gift, I tell myself that everyday. Everyday is a gift!

I'm thankful for:
The blessed day that I left and June arrived 

The day that I met Rabea at Luther hall and thought (Praise the Lord! It's a girl!)
My job at White Stuff and each and every girl (and boy) I worked with!!!
For every time I started chewing out Chris and realized "My goodness, I sound just like my mother"
For all that I have learned
Every day I realize "holy geez I'm in England"
Every trip I made to Germany where I insessently said "I really like it here!"
For Lidija and Boris and there Presence in Luther Hall and they way Boris would loudly say upon entering the kitchen "Awww... such Beautiful People!" and the way Lidija would quietly encourage me
I am thankful for Deaconess Rachel and her willingness to take time for me midst a crazy busy life as mother wife and worker
I'm thankful for Jean and his family and the reminder through him that sometimes we are blessed and sometimes we are blessed to share
For every visit I was able to make at the hospital that shaped and formed my perspective on life 
I'm thankful for every run that I am able to do in light of the visits I made at Addenbrookes
I'm really thankful for a trip to Deal that made me realize how much I love walking, and hiking
I'm thankful for the night I had my first interview for the D.R. and knew that this was what my future was going to be, and then went out to celebrate with Rabea until 2a.m. and got up early the next morning to travel to York
I'm thankful for my trip with Peter and Jeremy to Ireland 
I'm thankful for my trip to Germany with Mag, and later with Erik; which was always more than worth all the stress of getting there (hindrances include: questionable Mexican passport administered in Chicago and missed planes)
I'm thankful for every Finn joke from a certain Finn I know

I'm thankful for every nugget of knowledge given by my tutors and from Preceptor 
I'm thankful for all the girls that came through Luther Hall reminding me of how to be a lady midst the men (Blythe, Allison, Rabea, Fiona) 

I am thankful for all the allowance of personal indulgences (Justin)
I'm thankful for all the boyz that came through who appreciated me for my loving, nurturing personality, and oh yes my baking (Simeon, Israel and Mark- also my love of kittens!)
I'm thankful for the opportunity to have had so many people visit me while I was here (Deaconess Lumley, Stacey and Dan, Mom and Dad, I guess Jeremy and Peter too)
I'm so thankful for the opportunity to have met professor Rosin and to learn from him
I'm thankful for Dan G's gentle willingness to do things without complaining, and his eagerness to contribute towards social events
I'm thankful for the wonderful warm smile and greeting I received every morning, afternoon, and evening from Jonathan!!!
I'm thankful for my African friends who put life in perspective and remind me of how wasteful I can be
I'm thankful for all the skype meetings I had with my friends, (Katelyn, Nicole, Nathan & Anna & ?, Stacey and co. and the rest of my Family, John, Julia, Frankie, Lucius and June Rose) 
I'm thankful for every post card and gift (Max and George, The Shaw family, Brian and Melissa, Kristi (a.k.a. The Keller's) Grandpa and Grandma, Rachel, Dianna, all of First Lutheran Church!)
I am so thankful I was able to go up Ben Nevis and feel like an outdoors extremist
I am thankful for every Greek lesson I had that felt like it was going nowhere
I am thankful for my Writings in Luther class that was so frustrating and still is as I try to write my last paper 
I am thankful for every event this past year that has been refiners fire for me
I am thankful for every beautiful flower that reminds me that I am not in Nebraska and every country song that reminds me of Nebraska 
I am thankful for every e-mail that comes in and reminds me how there are so many from Nebraska, Iowa, and Indiana (Specifically St.John's Bingen) who are supporting me
I am thankful for every Facebook post that reminds me of the wonderful friends and family I have
I am thankful for EVERYBODY who has committed to supporting me for the next two years in the DR
Just in case there was anybody I forgot: I'm thankful for YOU (This one was added not for my dad but you all who are reading this!)

I am thankful for so much! Most of all I am thankful that God has made me thankful! I am thankful that I can look back and be thankful, and also look forward and be thankful. I couldn't do that four years ago. I am so happy to be coming home knowing that my time here has been a gift, and my time to come will be a gift until I reap the ultimate gift! So... YES DAD! Happy Father's day, and thank you for reminding me to be thankful not just for you (my father) but for everything my heavenly Father has given me this past year, and will give me in the years to come!


THANK YOU ALL FOR A WONDERFUL SCHOOL YEAR!!!

A great Collision 30 hours of movement:

10 hours to get to Corpach Scotland
10 hours to hike up the tallest Mountain in all of England (Ben Nevis)
10 hours to get home to Cambridge England

The Queen’s Diamond Jubilee was this past weekend offering students a four day weekend. For me there was a great collision of events beginning with a hospital visit on Friday where I had a conversation with an elderly man. He shared his life story with me which ended in tears. His wife had passed away less than a month ago and he expressed to me that he didn’t see a point in continuing with life. He said “Life will be fine, but it just isn’t going to be as good as it once was with her.” He later expressed a desire to die. 

Ironically, I was assigned to write a paper for an ethics course on euthanasia, not the lightest of topics. In the collision of events beginning with this encounter I have had several epiphanies, and a jubilee of my own (of the jewish sort). A few months ago my parents as a generous birthday gift purchased a rail pass. I spent a month trying to decide how I was going to use this gift. After some research I decided I was going to go to Corpach/Fort William and climb the tallest mountain in all of England; Ben Nevis. 

In this journey I had ten hours of travel time that I used to work on the earlier mentioned paper. So what do we really think of euthanasia? I must admit before meeting the man I mentioned earlier I would say I was adamantly against euthanasia. My empathy however took over as I visited with him and I thought; “I wish I could stop his pain.” Not that I wished him death, but only that I wished for what he wished for and in that moment it was death. Upon reflecting and thinking on my paper I wrestled with the idea of “Is it okay to exit this life when the pain is so great and the burden so heavy and the promise of eternal life is so much more appealing in the midst of pain?” 

My conclusion:

Ten hours up the side of Ben Nevis. My legs were shaking, my feet hurt, my hips were sore, my stomach hurt and I was nauseas all day from the intense physical activity. My climb only consisted of 10 more minutes to get to the summit and each glance upward felt no closer to the summit than the one before. There were combating dialogs going on in my head: “I’m never going to make it” “One rock at a time, just keep moving” “I was crazy to think I could do this” “Your committed now, you can’t turn back. You Can Do this!” “I’m going to die, I just know it” “One foot in front of the other, you are the one in control! Don’t just tell your body what to do, make it do it!” 

When I made it to the summit, it was not at all what I thought it would be. It was almost surreal, as if the summit was real but the idea was driving me more than the reality of it was. The summit itself held nothing for me, the journey did. The journey made the summit a place of victory (I am reminded of what my father often says; “It isn’t about the destination, it’s about the journey”).

I reached that summit with my legs shaking, and stomach all tied up and my lungs hurting. There wasn’t any sort of fanfare for me and yet, from that moment of being on top, there was no other place to look except where I had been. I had taken the climb and enjoyed various perspectives of the Mountain that others wouldn’t have seen climbing up the path. Looking back, it wasn’t about the summit at all, it was the climb. 

I’m not saying that life means more than the eternal life that God offers us through his Son. Rather I am saying that in those moments of trial, in those moments when we want to give up; don’t! Even when it seems like the future holds no point or meaning, press on! God never fails, his promises are new every morning! His faithfulness endures forever. Know that God is present in pain. Know that while it may seem as though there is no purpose in the pain, it doesn’t matter because there is a summit, it is there even if you can’t see it. If you need a goal, fix your eyes on the summit, otherwise enjoy the climb.The promise of eternal life is there, it isn’t moving and in the face of loss grief, pain and suffering it will still remain. We cling to that! Not to the present sufferings, but to the future glory that God has promised! Fight the good fight! Finish the race! This is the conclusion I have come to: In my final hour, when I wish for death, I will continue to live because it is a promise of the life I have been given and will be given. I will take one stone at a time, one foot in front of the other knowing that God is the one in control and that he has already promised me life even in my dying, and what is more is that he is with me in that journey. 

My dear family and friends, Thank you so much for all your prayers and support! I think of all of you very often. My journey here in England is nearing an end and a new journey is about to begin. I will miss many of you, and many of you I am excited to see again. Please never stop praying!

Philippians 1:3-4 I thank my God upon every remembrance of you,  always in every prayer of mine making request for you all with joy