The Flag of Forever

Hey folks, sorry for the delay our internet was down!

Path leading to East Sea, Rügen

This blog post would take a week to write if I were to tell every funny story. I can’t believe it has only been nine days since I last sat here at my computer. I can’t believe where the strength of my legs have brought me. In a very, very small nutshell of my last week I went to the Sport Hotel in Rügen for two days with my family, spent three days in Berlin with friends, and three days at my grandparents with Nadia. This nutshell is absolutely microscopic in comparison to everything that I did. If I were to hold this nut in my hand, it would fall between the small crevices of my palm. My mind is still spinning from living at a fast forward pace for a week. It feels like I would need two weeks just sitting in a chair staring out the window to balance my focus. I’m going to tell you the funniest story from the bundle, and also give you some liberty to decide what I write in the next blog. Here are the titles of five stories you can choose from, let me know in a comment at the end of this blog which one you want to read!

1.       How do we get home from here?

2.       Squash is not that easy after rock climbing.

3.       The Grandmas aren’t so nice.

4.       Just give me my coffee.

5.       Don’t eat the seahorse!

Taken from the Rügen Boardwalk, oceanside

Mix of modern and classic houses on the island Rügen

Modern windows and classic streetlamp, Rügen

My favorite story from last week takes place in Berlin. I’m with Claudia, my fellow AFS friend from Italy, standing in front of a Starbucks across from the Brandenburg Gate (informational link). It’s three degrees Fahrenheit and I feel like a chilly potato. The wind finds its way through every poorly sown seam in my jacket. I turn to push my way into the crowded Starbucks when I notice out of the corner of my eye an American flag. The Brandenburg Gate is to the right of the American Embassy, but the man holding Americas flag was dressed with soldiers clothing. I tugged Claudia’s jacket and we walked in his direction.

In front of the Brandenburg Gate, Berlin
Last time I was here was with my school
exchange last summer!

He was standing on a small podium that said ‘Welcome to Berlin’ and waving with not only an American flag, but a Turkish one too. ‘Hmmm’ I thought trying to piece the puzzle together. ‘Es kann nicht Wahr! Amerikan? (It can’t be true, an American)?’ I suddenly thought. ‘’What state are you from? ‘ I asked him excitedly. He looked at me with raised eyebrows. ‘’ I don’t understand’’ he said with a thick accent. Not American!! I felt like an eight year old kid on the hottest day of summer who just got out of a two hour ice cream waiting line, about to take my first lick, and then someone smacks my cone down onto the pavement and keeps walking. I don’t know why I was filled with bursting excitement at the thought of seeing someone from the States.  I also can’t explain my disappointment when I found out he wasn’t from America. But he saw the disappointment on my face.

‘Woher kommen Sie? (Where do you come from?)’ I asked.

‘Italy’ he replied. My jaw dropped and I twisted towards Claudia. Her face was beaming with the same expectation I had. She had met someone from her home country! With glistening eyes she asked 'where?' (but in Italian). He still looked confused. She continued to speak in Italian. Then he said he was born in Germany and only knew a little Italian. He was an actor, attending a theatre school in Berlin and trying to make some money. Considering he already had the costumes and props, he and a friend stationed themselves in front of the Gate and charged two Euro’s for a picture. Thousands stand before this gate every year to pose for their perfect ‘I was here’ picture and hurry on their way, what a better way to earn a couple bucks.

Berlin holding my flag!

Nevertheless, I was excited to see my flag and hopped onto the podium next to him. He plopped a heavy hat onto my head and held out the peace sign. I rolled my eyes and stuck out my peace sign too. Claudia and I said goodbye and walked away while chuckling with disappointment. We laughed then walked home in silence. The feeling was unexplainable; not the feeling that my heart would freeze at any moment because of the wind chill, but that my heart was somehow a little broken. I knew this feeling from somewhere. When we arrived back at the apartment I let myself fall deep into thought. I thought this guy was from America. No matter his background or what state he came from, I could have made a connection with him, because what we shared was greater than our differences. I thought we shared America.  

My heart has known this feeling on more than one occasion. I have had this feeling after encountering many American ‘Christians’, here is a typical scenario.  I’m at the grocery store or gas station, and somehow they shine a little differently from the other people bustling along with their lives. As I’m waiting in line I’m impelled to talk with them. Through small talk I find that indeed they are a believer. My heart swells and I share my testimony of how He healed a cyst in my stomach and a disease in my blood. Caught up in the excitement of my story, I fail to notice their face. They look at me as if I’m speaking another language. ‘’That’s great’’ they say politely and wish me a good day. ‘Don’t we share the same God? The same Jesus?’ I ask myself as they walk away. They were waving the Christian flag and claimed His Name, maybe even wearing a necklace with The Cross too, but they were not a Christian. If they were, they would know that the impossible is where God works. He works when doctors say that I need an operation to remove a nickel sized cyst. He works when every option, logical attempt, and antibiotic fails. The Berlin actor was dressed as an American soldier and even held our flag. Many Christians may dress, act, and wave the flag of Christ but the words ‘spiritual warfare’ or ‘spiritual principalities’ are truly another foreign language to them. We may be dressed as a soldier of Christ but does our armor know battle? Does our hand know how to hold a sword? Do we know the tactics of the enemy?

Mid-day from my window and a walk

I share this with you in the hope you will join me, in advancing past being comfortable into being curious. I have spent too many days being passive without questioning or evaluating myself. Proverbs 9:8 says ‘reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee: rebuke a wise man, and he will love thee’. If you’re not offended by what I have written until this point, I ask one more thing of you. I’m asking you to evaluate yourself today. I want to leave you with this thought, this question; if today was the day you came before the Judgment Seat, would He know your name? Could He say, ‘I heard you this morning worshipping Me. I heard you this morning praying for your work colleague. I heard you singing praise songs to Me in the car ride. I gladly took your problems and offenses from you when they came and you gave them to me. Welcome to heaven now we can spend eternity together. Our time on earth was only the beginning.’ Could He say that? If He couldn't, are we any more than an actor too?

What I wrote was heavy I know. It was a conviction for myself and my relationship with Him, I am not as close as I wish to be. But the experience showed me the kind of person I don't want to be, I don't want to be an actor. The reality is that on that day we can't fake a relationship with Him. This revelation and soon coming reality is a wake up call.

'The Doorway' Berlin

Have a blessed week, Genevieve

P.S. all of these pictures were taken with my blackberry, I won't get my camera for an extended period of time because of global weather conditions such as tsunami's and floods in Japan. Do you think He's trying to get our attention?