Fire Through the Frost

I can trace the paths of my town on my hands; they feel as much a part of me as the veins that run through each of my fingers. I know the slant of each house and the birds’ song on a Sunday morning. The trees stand frozen in a half bent sway, creaking with every breeze. The energy of my surroundings have changed.

Frozen apples clinging to branches of tree

Though nature sleeps with her frost blanket, my energy to move has been kindling into a fire. Tuesday was a bone chilling day, every gust of wind brought the Siberian Cold closer. (The Siberian Cold is a ‘cold front’ that occurs in North Germany (Click for informational link). I laced my sneakers in a haste after coming home from school and set out for a jog. The sun was absent and the gray horizon blurred together with the crisp white fields. I don’t need music to run, I know the different sound of trees on each path and their movements are my soundtrack. Each step crunched the frosted leaves, sticks, and stones below me which was loud enough to frighten the deer in my path ahead. My breath was a cloud of cold and my heart beat raced. I ran a steady tempo until I reached the top of the hill where I could see over my village.

This is a colored picture of the horizon.

To most people being completely alone in the wilderness would qualify as quiet. But to me the trees swing and the leaves clap their hands to praise the Almighty God.  They stretch their finger and point to the sky, they point to the one true God. The wind hummed and rattled light leaves by my feet. I can never forget that moment of connecting with nature. I can look at a tree and know that we were both crafted by the same Craftsman. Like a unique fingerprint I see their different bark and twist in their roots or branches. The millions of leaves I see have different textures, patterns, and veins. Each frost crystal has a separate molecular composition. It is so easy to give God the praise that is due. Through several instances last week I was struck with the awareness of His awesomeness. Whether I am running through the woods, pondering the countless idiosyncrasies of people, or sitting still on the sofa and hearing my heart beat I can never fathom His depths. His love, mercy, and thoughts about us are without number. His wisdom is infinite. Day after day does He reveal His glory a little bit more to me but I never stop being in awe.

Cement fence that borders a small area of a farm across from my street

 I am surrounded by a different tongue, a language that is not familiar to me. The process to becoming a barrier breaker is slow, but it amazes me still every day that people communicate any way other than English. As ignorant as that sounds, one cannot understand until they are plucked from their life and placed into another culture. One cannot understand until they are every hour of the day surrounded by noises that are unfamiliar to their ears. Though each nation has their own tongue, the praise of nature to the One True God is universal. I looked in the mirror today and almost didn’t recognize myself. This experience has showed me so many things and brought many issues of character to the surface.

Waiting for the school bus during the ten minute window of sunshine

Dramatizing experiences shake us, and if we allow them to they rattle things loose and show us show us what is constant. The only way that I could have ever come through this transition is by constant praise and worship. Being here on somedays, is not easy but I could not imagine being anywhere else. Every day is filled with jewels of wisdom.  I ask that you look for the jewels in your life, and ask for a refreshed perspective of praise because it is our honor and duty, no matter where we are in the world.

Blessings, Genevieve

Rain and Retrospect

Hello Readers! We’ve had amounts of rain comparable to a tropical rain forest. It has rained for four days now. I wouldn’t be surprised if I bumped into a tree and it fell over roots up. Five days ago I sent my camera home for repair which made me somehow less inclined to venture outside . Which means that this blog is going to include pictures from the beginning of my journey up until now. The first month I was in Germany I could not figure out how to attach photos into my blog so come with me and lets look back in retrospect. The second part of this blog I’m going to answer a couple of basic questions from a friend that I thought would be good for everyone to know.

Plant at Oma's house with woven spiderweb
and caught raindroplets.

  How is school going? 

School is going well. I just finished reading my first BOOK for German. It was one-hundred fifty pages long and I read it from front to back. I could not understand every word but I can understand paragraphs. I started the first chapter looking up every word I didn’t understand. A couple hours later and only three pages completed, I decided to try a more relaxed approach. I packed my fluorescent yellow dictionary in the drawer, and just read. I understood the plot line perfectly, and learned phrases that I wouldn’t have picked up in conversations. For example,‘This place is not the bellybutton of the world’. Who would have thought in three months I could complete a novel cover to cover in a week?

I live near the dot on the right and I will be traveling
for my midyear camp to the dot on the left.
Practically across the country!
http://www.wordtravels.com/images/map/Germany_map.jpg

Are classes and expectations different (more difficult?) Than here in the U.S.? 



American high school seniors have SAT’s, German seniors have the Abitur, or known as ‘Abi’. The last two years of highschool are in preparation for this test. The student can choose two primary subjects (History, English, German, Math) and four others (Biology, Physics, Chemistry, Economy, Geography, Politics, French, Russian, Latin, PE). The primary subject tests last six hours each and the others last four hours. In total, twenty four hours of testing. Doesn’t seem so hard compared to our six hour SAT break included test anymore does it? The teaching methods are also different. Rather than taking for example one course on the French Revolution and jamming decades of history into six months, the Germans learn gradually. Their method is to teach for example the French Revolution starting in 8^th grade and every year go more into depth. This way of learning would have really benefited me, and students in general. The majority of my USA school classmates including myself would tell you based on how much we are expected to learn and be evaluated on, we memorize facts and concepts until the test date. Then somehow we relearn everything a couple days (a week or two for me) before midterms or finals and somehow pass with flying colors.

Chandelier in the Celle Castle

The information isn’t completely gone, but it would genuinely take a while for me to recall a piece of knowledge, like finding a piece of paper filed in an eighteen-wheeler sized file cabinet. Which brings me to my answer of the question, there are different expectations for students because their tests are different. I am in the 11^th grade and am watching the frustration of my classmates. They said that the jump between 10^th and 11^th grade was too big, what is expected from this is too much. Can I get an American High School junior amen? The teachers are frustrated that students don’t complete homework, and the students are frustrated with the amount of homework. But they don’t meet everyday like we do, I only have Economy once a week. English meets on Wednesdays and Thursday. German on Monday and Friday. As an unbiased witness, I can understand both sides of the situation.

Are you living in the country or the city?



I currently live in a village, or small town. There are no grocery stores or any official buildings other than a hair salon. More than anything we are a residential village, we are fifteen minutes away from the central city. The ‘city’ is a cobblestone town square with a ‘CVS’, Church, Café, Travel Bureau, Clothing store and Shoe shop including repair.

Door. But their really cool here!

Eating my first Döner.Contents: big pita pocket with
lamb/meat (hah the vagueness)
cucumber slices, white cabbage, red cabbage, tomato.

Is it a long distance from “home” to school?
I am a fifteen minute bus ride from Boizenburg, the central city. Five minutes from a train station. And seven minutes from the closest grocery store and gas station. There are a lot of places to ride a bike in Dersenow that will lead you to other residential villages, but there is no sidewalk on the main road. Also, the main road is more like a highway because it is the only toll-free way between Hamburg and Berlin. That means we have cars and eighteen-wheelers driving by 24/7.

Host Dad picking pears in our tree.
We also have an apple and walnut tree!

Do you feel that it was a more positive choice to attend your senior year away rather than at your home highschool?

I knew that it would be at times difficult to complete my senior year away from home. The excitement of hearing from ‘dream’ colleges, writing dozens of essays, studying for midterms the last time….hahaha that doesn’t sound fun at all. More than anything I would be ‘doing’ I miss the friends I have grown up with. But those who are really important to me will be there when I come home no doubt. A test of true friendship. I know other exchange students are completing their college applications and will be graduates upon arrival, but I chose to complete the year in CT. I will be graduating with the class of 2013.

Flying out from Orientation Camp to Germany!
SO unbelievably hot that day.

I welcome any of your questions that I can answer as a comment. Enjoy the pictures and let me know what you guys think!

Blessings, Genevieve

An Ice Shattering Dance

Piece of a broken frozen puddle

 

This example is the only way I can describe to you how my life has suddenly turned. Imagine a tribal dancer circling around a fire.  He moves to the beating of drums, dancing steadily faster and faster. With grace his feet only skim the ground as he contorts his body to the sounds. The drums beat with his heart, it races like the feet of a thousand buffalo surging through the valley side. He moves and dances until he is spinning out of control, twisting, twirling and throwing his hands up in the air.

Now I sit here with my hands thrown up in the air, I can’t do this dance or at least not alone. The feeling of being home has finally settled in, which means I have started pursuing more interests and making more social connections. My dance starts early in the morning and lasts until I collapse onto my bed. Starting, maintaining, and managing a new lifestyle is a dance. That without grace and a ground beat will set someone spinning. I feel like a leaf swirling down from the biggest oak tree in the forest. Sometime in the last week everything turned into a blur of madness. By madness I don’t mean I was hectically running around everywhere, but my day lost its beat which set me into madness. A dancer always needs a steady beat.

Passing railroad across the street from my house

Not a satelitte picture, just a puddle!

 Feeling like an outsider is not comfortable. One of the most difficult challenges I have been faced with as being an exchange student is the lack of familiarity. When I had time alone I spent it searching God’s face and discovering how loyal of a friend He is. It felt like He was all I had so I clung to Him. Upon my request, He gave me relationships that helped me discover more about my self, and relationships that allowed me to be the quirky me. Now comfortable with friends and a situated life pattern I began the dance again. But like the children of Israel who had time after time forgotten God after He had supplied all their needs, so had I left Jesus. He gave me my first beat and brought me to a dance, and once I had the rhythm I danced away forgetting He had ever supplied me with music. To put it simply, I had lost him in the dance of every day. That is where a lot of people trip, they strive and seek and touch the hem of God’s garment until He finally blesses them. Then once they have received the blessings they forget the one that blessed them. Thankfully, my ‘time out’ where I had to think over what I did wrong, did not consist of me wandering through a desert for forty years. But instead I had a week of going to bed too late, waking up too early, talking too much with myself and too little with Him. Don’t misunderstand me, I still sought His Face but it was with a half focus.  In Proverbs  5:26 we are told to ‘Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established. (27) Turn not to the right hand nor to the left remove thy foot from evil.’ I danced without thinking where I was putting my feet. I was moving and achieving through my day but somehow not achieving anything at all. A professional runner does not look to the sides during a race. A half focused soldier does not survive the battle field; a half focused lover will lose his love. Lukewarm coals do not keep the fire burning.

More Puddle Ice!

As I reflect this last week a scripture comes to mind. John wrote in Revelation 3:15 to the Church of Laodicea ‘I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot. So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold or hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth’.  There’s my answer, being lukewarm or half-focused doesn’t work in relationships or life. I’m sure you have experienced this to a degree before. You come home to a friend, family member, or spouse and want to share your day with them. Filled with enthusiasm you begin your story but notice they won’t remove their focus from the TV or from texting. ‘Are you listening?’ You ask. ‘Yes of course I am’ they reply not moving their head. I don’t know about you but at this point my motivation to speak further is totally gone. Either you can totally listen to me or say we should talk another time. Half-listening offends the speaker and hinders the listener from sharing joy with the person speaking. It’s frustrating for everyone. Doing anything with a ‘half-heart’ is not worth it. I’ve learned not to begin something if I know I am only going to give my half-best.

Frosted Leaves

 

Puddle Puddle Puddle!

Don’t confuse this precept with taking on more activities or joining more committees. What I believe we are to learn from this scripture is to give our absolute one-hundred percent best in everything we do big or small. I strive to achieve this, but I am human. I have my setbacks. Waking up before I fulfilled my eight hour sleep quota is not my specialty. A lot of mornings consist of me sloshing coffee after coffee into my mouth to wake my brain up. What I want to tell you guys is not that I need more sleep, but that even though its hard I am giving this relationship my best. Even if my best is a Monday morning sleepy eyed, sleep deprived, seventeen year old girl mumbling praise songs I think God respects that. I'm going to continue to dance the dance and run the race with my whole heart. I hope you share the awesomness of this revelation with me, and see it the way He showed me!

Playing with a square of ice

As always, questions and comments are welcome.

Have fun dancing this week!

Blessings, Genevieve

The Pig That Showed Me A Pearl

As I was on my walk last week I found this.

I asked my host parents what animal it could be, possibly wild boar they said. The population of the Wild Boar has increased three-hundred and twenty percent in the last year. They charge up to thirty miles an hour. In order to keep the population stable last year German hunters had to kill over half a million hogs ( click here to read article). In my USA town taking a casual hike does not put one at risk for being trampled by a territorial mama boar. I take the same walking route every day here, it seems perfect in its beauty. But I felt moved to walk another path one day after reading a fellow CBYXers blog: http://brentgaynor.wordpress.com/2012/01/09/prelude-not-going-home-tommorow/

This is his most recent post after I sent him a message on Facebook telling him how wonderfully he writes. It was a laugh when I needed one and for that I was grateful. I encourage you (my readers!!) to support him too or to simply chuckle. Anyways, for my morning walk I took a right instead of going straight. What I found was a view overlooking my normal path, and a bridge that stretches over the railway. Glistening flooded fields with patches of surfaced electric green grass was on my right, two railroad tracks beneath the bridge I was standing on, and the way home on the left. Aside from the faint sound of people’s casual Sunday drive, it was silent. I treasured this moment, using it as a time to sit and be in awe.  

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The Dersenow Firestation



The same day I saw a wild boar. Later that afternoon I decided to take again  a different path marked ‘Nature Walk’. I got to see my towns’ fire station and homes of residents I didn’t know where present. Because it was mid-day I could walk on the center of the wet cobblestone road without having to step to the side for a passing car. Did I also mention that I walk in the middle of the street to avoid guard dogs? German fences are cute but barely tall enough to keep a full grown German Shepard or a Rottweiler from hopping the fence and sharing his bad day with you.

My heart pounded with adrenaline, one big dog and small fence after another. Finally, I reached the end of the road and the beginning of the looming forest. I pressed on now in a light jog to be safe from the barking of these savage dogs and to find shelter from the rain. ‘But was this really the safer option?’ I asked myself.

Inch deep in mud, I mucked through the path thinking I should buy a rain jacket that isn’t white. The trees were slim and winding (not wind-ding mom) like the body of a snake, dripping with rain that made their trunks black. Moss covered the forest floor and wound around colossal fallen stumps that laid half swallowed by the earth. The wind slinked through the top of the trees, creating the sound of the ocean with frozen leaves. I am an explorer, but I am also not naïve to walk through an isolated forest alone. I considered turning back to ask my neighbor if I could borrow her ferocious dog for company. But my heart beat was heavy thinking to cross through the street once again, so I continued on my way. Now, with all of my senses heightened by the lack of visibility to see through thousands of bending trees, I felt paranoid thoughts creep into my mind. Then under the black shadow of a bush I saw the flash of a small white body of a four legged animal scurrying through the leaves. I ran back the way I came. Think Snow White running through the haunted woods.

I was standing when I took this picture!

Both disappointed that my neighborhood forest was infested with wild boars and the fact that I ran like a baby I stood at the crossroad. Defeated. But there was another path that I didn’t see, I began walking. Purposed that my adventure would not end. Ten seconds later I was greeted by a family taking a stroll with their white dog that was exactly the size of the wild boar I had just seen. The dog was running without a leash, weaving through the trees parallel to the family. As we passed one another they probably thought I was crazy for laughing hysterically to myself, to think how scared I was! I did not see a boar, but instead a loving  pet. How deceiving! Don’t live by what you feel!  Now safe, really and actually safe, I fell deep into thought. Have I ever attempted something in my life, and because I saw the flash of intimidation or failure I ran back to what I know? How many experiences have I let pass me because I was afraid of what was in the shadow?

I searched my Bible. The one and only thing I should fear is the Lord Himself. I will remember my heartbeat and the fear I felt when I speak with people who do not know what to fear, and in turn fear everything. God’s Forest is a refuge, free from all worldly fear which I can appreciate in a new light now that I have experienced a type of fear that grips your heart.

These pictures were taken today after going for a walk with Chiara, it was about five hundred percent less terrorizing. This time I decided to ask for my neighbor’s dog to take with us. Instead of getting the large German Shepard I had hoped for, she gave me a smaller chubby Chihuahua sized dog on a pink leash. Nevertheless, I did not meet with any boars. But I was almost chased by the Rottweiler. Chiara and I were casually walking down the street  when we suddenly  heard the rapid approach of four massive dog feet meeting the pavement.  With every step it lunged towards against the gate. We ran as fast as we could screaming. I tripped and Chiara fell over laughing. The dog had stopped barking, but we were both crying for the humor. As I write this now my giggle is turning to a wince. I can’t imagine ever having a dog charge me without having a fence between us. To any reader who has suffered such an attack, you have as much sympathy as I can possibly offer. At the end of the street we looked up and saw this.

Here you can also faintly see a typical German house. None of them are made from wood or whatever our houses are made of in the USA. These houses are most likely hand stacked brick dating back to the 1700’s or cement, two choices. Which makes me think, choices. Every day it seems there are a million choices to be made, and a million things to avoid that are trying to choose me. I choose joy, I don’t let mood based weather choose me. It rains here every week, it is overcast six days from seven. If I had let the weather affect my mood, I would not have the motivation to write this blog. So I’m thankful I don’t have to live based on emotions. When one chooses the thought process, not to simply ‘be happy’, but to find joy in God...I promise that you will shine so much that you won’t need the sun. In addition, don't ever underestimate saying something good with the same fervency as bringing a problem to attention. You would be suprised what a small compliment can do to someones day.

Let me know what you guys think about the article, these hogs don’t live only in Germany!

Blessings, Genevieve

My Encounter With a Thousand

Dieser Blog ist bestimmt schwerer als der letzte. Wahrscheinlich, weil ich irgendwann letzte Woche angefangen habe Deutsch zu denken. Ich denke auf Deutsch, träume auf Deutsch, und bin irgendwie ein bisschen mehr Deutsch als vorher. Etwas hat in meinem Kopf klick gemacht, und ich kann nicht wieder auf Englisch denken. Deshalb ist mein Englisches Grammatik unglaublich schlecht. Bitte entschuldigt mich, aber ich muss es trotzdem für euch auf Englisch schreiben.

Abstract Tree Picture

In short that means I’m thinking in German! Which makes this blog harder to write but I labor in love for you all. My success is beginning to bud into a beautiful flower!

Man on Instrument

 I'll give you guys a brief about New Year's then a more extensive story that is so far my favorite to share. I got to share New Year’s Eve with my friends Claudia and Chiara. I don’t believe that January 1^st is more significant than any other day in the year but I am nevertheless happy to be living. I spent the night playing guitar and snacking on ‘American Chocolate Chip Cookies’ I baked.Claudia’s host father along with other neighbors played in a band. Afterwards we joined the village in lighting fireworks and this vegetable firework house. Don’t ask me I have no idea the significance of a vegetable house. New Year's or 'Sylvester' is a very celebrated holiday. My host family was shocked when I told them I never 'truly' celebrated it. My host sister went to her friends house lit fireworks, watched movies, and ate. My host brother went to Berlin where thousands of people met to drink and set fireworks, a little dangerous I think! And my host parents went to a Ski Resort to socialize and dance with their friends. I went the earliest to bed at 5 a.m. everyone else stayed up until dawn. As for anything, it is what you make of it.

Vegetable House!

And now the story. It was Saturday. Upon my daily casual stroll I heard something faintly in the distance. I heard them before I saw them. Without a doubt there were at least five hundred maybe even a thousand. With the sunshine on their backs they shined like a diamond. If you have never personally seen a flock of sheep, let me tell you it is a vision. Let me tell you the story or more precisely share with you an entry from my journal.

‘Just got home from a walk. As I was trottin’ along my way suddenly I heard something, and saw a sort of grazing animal. I listened closely, trying my best to tune out the sound of the wind. I heard the soft sound of sheep. For a moment I hesitated, wondering if I should cross the large field between us. Seconds later I was trekking through the grass. ‘I’ve never seen a thousand sheep before’ I said to myself as I continued to march. With a confident pace the sheep were coming closer into view. The wind was sharp and the sky was bare. The thought that sheep have a guard dog came too late, I already reached the orange wire fence.  ‘Wait Genevieve, I’m pretty sure sheep have a guard dog right? Or is that only a herd dog? Wait, do they bite?’

In a small panic I looked in every direction, no guard dog. Now in safety I stood looking dopey eyed at the sheep, gawking at how cute they were. The majority of them where white but when I looked closely each sheep was unmistakably different from another. Long noses, short noses, dark brown eyes, narrow eyes, wide ears, small ears, red ears, and pink ears. The Shepard must know them by name. Minutes passed without them acknowledging my presence. Then when one noticed they all turned their heads, but they wouldn’t come any closer than five feet to me. I reached out my hand to pet them or to touch their soft little ears but none would meet my hand. After five minutes I noticed they all broke into a ‘mahhh’ frenzy and looked to the hill. I turned and saw two men in a small white pick-up driving toward us. They drove past me and waved, the sheep were ecstatic. One man got out of the car and stretched over the small mesh fence with wooden Shepard’s staff in hand.

The sheep mobbed around him as he lightly whistled and walked in my direction. I watched them as their ears twitched and the baby lambs bucked beneath their mother’s side. We talked briefly about the weather, but the conversation was short considering I wouldn’t respond about my personal information. We glanced together at the back of the white truck where the other Shepard was letting the herd dogs loose. I stiffened as they approached and ran by me, thinking they would be aggressive to someone without a staff. But their job was only to herd the sheep they barked and ran the length of the fence. With the sun beginning to set I turned for home and thought about these little sheep and how they interacted with me, one another, and their Shepard. 

They didn’t come to my voice, approach me, or let me stroke their head. Instead they stayed in the safety of their flock and waited for their Shepard’s whistle. I should know the sound of my Shepard, The All Mighty Shepard. After seeing how these two Shepard’s walked through the ocean of white, softly patting each sheep on the head I saw a side of Jesus’ tenderness. As a helpless sheep in God’s flock, my greatest strength is to first stay with the flock and listen for my Shepard’s voice. All so that on one glorious day when He calls me home, I will know that it’s time.’

Last Saturday was without a doubt one of the most memorable days of the year. In 2011 I had my share of beautiful, unforgettable moments but what I witnessed will stay with me until I die. I have read dozens of times in the New Testament about Jesus being our Shepard, but until seeing these little, breathing sheep with my own eyes it made me feel so much more alive. Amidst the struggles that are sure to come this year I will simply remember the realness of each and every different sheep and how the Shepard cares for them. Surely, God’s love is stronger than this. Although I may not ‘feel’ it every day I have learned not to live by my feelings. Simply the fact that He supplies me with breath this moment and the next can I begin to understand His love.

Share with me your thoughts, I would love to hear them!

Blessings and Joy, Genevieve!