the back burner

hymn of the week

Heal us, Immanuel! hear our prayer;
We wait to feel thy touch.
Deep-wounded souls to Thee repair,
And, Saviour, we are such.

Our faith is feeble, we confess;
We faintly trust thy word.
But wilt thou pity us the less?
Be that far from thee, Lord.

Remember him who once applied
With trembling for relief:
"Lord I believe," with tears he cried,
"O help my unbelief!"

She, too, who touched Thee in the press,
And healing virtue stole,
Was answered – "Daughter, go in peace,
Thy faith has made thee whole."

Like her, with hopes and fears we come
To touch thee, if we may:
O send us not despairing home.
Send none unhealed away.

– William Cowper, 1731-1800
Congregational Praise. Independent Press Ltd. London, 1967.

Noncommittal Noises

I'm noticing more and more my use of certain non-committal sighs and grunts to continue a conversation when I'm totally lost. I'm not sure if I'm making them more often in order to survive, or if I'm just noticing (and valuing) them more. That certain, nebulous response-that-keeps-people-talking-while-I-figure-out-what-the-heck-they're-talking-about can be vital.

da-dum-da-da-da-da-da

The following song keeps cycling through my head. Does anybody know where it came from? The tune is a great one.

Wonderful Counselor, Almighty God, Everlasting Father,
Prince of Peace, Jesus our Immanuel,
We adore thee, we adore thee, we adore thee.

Lamb of God, Who takes away, Thy people's sin (great is our Redemption!)
who was for us a very pleasing sacrifice,
we adore thee, we adoe thee, we adore thee.

taxi

Yesterday, I was walking home after a full day of Frenchie-French-French. Suddenly, a taxi zoomed up and screeched to a halt next to me. The driver stuck his head out and winsomely grinned at me. "Crowne Plaza Hotel? You know Crowne Plaza Hotel?"

The businessmen in the back of the car were obviously flustered. Their driver was listening to loud, Baliwood music, and most of his teeth were made of metal. What a scene.

As soon as I started giving directions, the driver interrupted me: "It is here, I think. I think I see it. Thank you very much!" And they sped off. It's nice to know that I'm not the only one who doesn't fit into the Belgian mold.

awwww...

...a couple of local, Mac-savvy kids and their sitter. what a great crowd.

get excited, people

Let's back up a little bit and give you the whole story. On August 21st (4 weeks ago this Monday), I got a call in Orlando from Houston. The Belgian consulate had just called my Mom with news that the visa was approved. Eight days later, on the 29th, I had both visa and plane ticket in hand.

I flew to Brussels September 7th, arriving here the next day.

That means I've been here EIGHT DAYS! I'm going through weekly events for a SECOND TIME! This is significant, people. It's significant because it's been at least that long since I've seen any of you, because it's been that long and I haven't written to anyone yet, because I went from not-getting-my-hopes-up to HERE in such a short time, and (not least) because I've never seen this country go for eight days with so much sun.

Since so much has happened since I was last a part of this town, I'm seeing Brussels with new vision. All the characteristics of the city, the organizations, the people, and the cultures are jumping out at me. I think this perspective shift happens partly because I've grown as a person in the intervening years, but also because of all the work I've done to get here. I didn't think about it at the time, but all the tracking down of legal documents, the phone-calling, the public speaking, and etc. have made this move a real choice. I had to decide what to do, and I chose to be here, with these specific people in this specific place.

Of course, a lot of other things could have happened that were outside of my control, but the fact that I chose to follow this path (instead of others) is giving me a lot of ownership right now. It's less like staking a claim and more like getting a gift that I asked for and really wanted but didn't really expect. I think I'll bask in that for awhile.

what a world, what a world, what a world...

I've been 5 days here in Bruxelles. I was just absent-mindedly checking the most important emails and responding only to the emergencies, when suddenly the weight of what I'm doing really came home. This is a difficult context for my faith, but subtly so. It also calls for a lot of vulnerability and a lot of repentance. I think it's definitely going to take it's toll in some interesting ways. And I don't just mean it will take its toll on me. The context is going to mess with me AND all my old people AND all my yet-to-be-people. Warning: mess ahead.

Clearly, I needed to journal. Or go reflect and pray.

Or write a meaningless blog post? Yeah. Maybe it's not what I needed, but that's where I was (and am), right now. The new news is that I think I've found a neighborhood. And will possibly start a community French class by the end of this week. And will be attending two churches. I've eaten a lot of frites, walked about 35-40 kilometers, made some friends, gotten lost, and learned a bunch of new words in a variety of languages. Thanks for reading this. I just needed to break the blog ice, before I go do any serious reflection.

So, time for coffee. I need it like the Wicked Witch of the West needed a little more fiber, there at the end. And not just moral fiber. So there.

send-off

I really should say, "send offs." They were many. At least five that I can name, right off the bat. Both of these shots are in my screensaver. Friends on a porch. Friends on a couch. You people are such characters. (If your picture is on here and you want it removed, let me know.)