A Story of Wet Paint

A comedy or a tragedy? Either way you look at it, this is a story of wet paint.

My day off was yesterday. The house was to receive the prince and princess again for prayer and the doctor was coming around the same time, so I wasn't sure I could be spared. I helped Rebecca with her makeup, hair and a few other random things in her bedroom. It looked like things would go smoothly without me so I prepared for my day off. I was already showered and ready:

And documented how I felt about going out alone:

So I posted a blog about out trip into Brussels and googled some things to do around Genval. I considered going here to Villers-la-Ville, the ruins of an ancient monastery, or to Brussels again, but this time on my own. :( I really wanted to see the monastery with my sister so I decided to go back into Brussels. So I stalled a little bit, was hungry so I walked down the stairs to go to the kitchen but the meeting was going on in the room between me and the kitchen so I was blocked...fine, decision made, I'm forced to go out on my own. I grabbed my things and headed out the door to the train station a little more confident than last time. I surveyed the platform, there wasn't anyone around as I was 20 minutes early and I sat down and waited for the train to come. So I sat on a chair and waited.

Along came a girl. A nice looking girl about my age in a tan trench coat for whom I removed my purse from the chair next to me so that she could know I wasn't going to bite her if she chose to sit by me. You see, further along down the line of chairs there were two separate signs taped to the seat of two chairs. I'd assumed they were both broken, therefore that left only a few chairs to sit in, and they were both to either side of me. I hoped she would find me friendly enough to take the stranger danger plunge.

She didn't.
She just stood to the chair next to me fiddling with her purse.
And then she touched my shoulder.

She motioned me forward with her hand on my shoulder. I sat forward and my shirt stuck to the back of the seat and pulled away slowly, wet paint (wet, red paint) attaching itself to my beautiful, newly purchased just before I came to Belgium cardigan. (Abby was with me when I bought it. Fun times. :)) I stood up aghast making small 'oh no' noises while the girl looked on sympathetically, realizing I didn't speak French at the same time. I motioned, asking if it was also on my pants. She pointed to my other shirt, so I took off my cardigan, put on my coat that I had deliberated for so long in my head about bringing, thankful that I had, and walked back to the house, thanking the kind girl as I left.

I felt pretty silly and kind of defeated. Apparently those two little sings on two of the seat further down the row were supposed to tell me that ALL the seats had been freshly painted. In no way did any of them look freshly painted. Probably because others like me had sat down on the other seats...maybe.

I got home, my red checkered cardigan in hand. Annie and Katina were eating lunch at the kitchen table, the royal guests had gone. I showed them my cardigan and went to the laundry room, stripped down and put my coat on. And took pictures, of course.

 I later found it to be on the inside of my jacket and at the waist hem of my jeans, as well.

How I felt as I went upstairs to change.

I planned to change and go directly back to the train station....but I ate lunch with the ladies and went upstairs to the family room for a nap instead. I slept for 3 hours.

After a 3 hour nap.

Katina found me then on the couch feeling sorry for myself that my intended day of fun ended up being a day in the house. She was so sweet and made me go outside to the patio saying that the fresh air would do me good.
                                          

Of course she was right. I read a sweet, encouraging and convicting message from a friend and came downstairs with a different attitude. I was able to have a really great conversation with my Mom while she worked at the office at DSC (where she is filling in for me while I'm gone) and

also had the privilege of speaking with C. Rush for a bit too. 

Today I showed my sad articles of clothing to the lot at the house and we all boo hooed over them and tried to figure out a way to get the stains out. (Any suggestions anyone.) L said that I should just return to the scene of the clothing crime and put red criss cross paint stains all over my cardigan. :oP

Ah well. So is life in a foreign land. 

BRUSSELS

BRUSSELS!!

Thanks to our lovely housemate Haven, we were able to take a day off together and go into Brussels for the afternoon and evening. We were stoked...and maybe slightly scared. The thought of traipsing around a foreign city we'd never seen before was exciting. But the thought of getting on a train, speaking to a conductor and purchasing tickets and working through things we'd never done before was a little daunting. As we practically ran toward the train station we skipped going inside and went around the building directly to the platform. I worried that we were doing something wrong and were going to get in trouble...something I keep worrying about-getting in trouble for doing something unintentionally wrong in a city that speaks a different language and I won't be able to explain myself and I'll look like a fool and be hanged or something. Soo obviously in this made up tragic scenario of mine, no one here speaks English or has any grace towards foreigners, and they're all living in the 19th century when wayward cowboys were hanged. Hmm.

We sat on the train, paid the conductor for our tickets (he spoke English) and waited for our stop. Twenty-ish minutes later a sign said BRUSSELS-(and something else that I unfortunately cannot remember). So we hopped up and sped out of the train. Katina left me in her dust while I fumbled down the steep and shallow stairs, twisted my ankle and fell on my butt in front of only three people all of whom acted like they didn't see me. I wasn't sure whether to be thankful or offended... Having emerged at the top of the street we weren't recognizing anything as it had been described to us that it should look. We looked at a map and saw that the station we were at was in fact the wrong station. We'd gotten off too early. (On our way home we counted 5 stops too early.) We made a phone call and found out that things weren't so bad, we could actually walk to Grand Place from where we were, but it would take at least 30 minutes and we'd have to ask people on the street for directions. Ok, cool. We can do this. It's a pretty day, the buildings are super neat-o and the people seem nice. We picked a direction and began walking. We chose a subject. He was younger and dressed in a blue suit taking a smoke break outside a very tall, long building. "Pardon, est-ce vous parle anglais?" "Oui." Oh good! We're looking for Grand Place... "Unfortunately you are walking in the wrong direction." Ha! Of course we are. :) He was very kind and gave us decent directions. We were able to follow them for some time before asking a woman, standing on the sidewalk, bottle of water in hand, friendly looking, younger, a prime subject for my do you speak English question. She actually looked excited to speak in English with me. Had I invited her to lunch with us I think she would've come. She asked me for the time, I told her and we marched on. Onward into a world of little plazas with green meadows in the middle of the streets where statues were erected in the center and patrons lounged in groups huddled around their lunches. We passed a string of black cabs, cabbies eager to help us toward our goal and take our money, but we were determined, however, not to spend any transportation money but to use our God given means of transport.

We walked.

And we walked.

And walked some more.

Finally we sat down across from a random building to take a break from asking directions and of course from walking.

We're at this intersection

Across the street from this statue on one side.

And this building on the other side.

Statue of a boy...

Where we were sitting.

Finally we worked up the nerve to get up again, picked a direction and moved on, timidly at first but with growing confidence as the budding explorers that we are. We rounded the corner and found out we had been sitting feet from a royal palace! I didn't get close enough to get a picture, but I saw with my own eyes a building of palatial grandness with guards at the entrance and everything.

A brilliant church we found in our wanderings.

Just look at that ceiling.

Gargantuan lock

Colossal door

This must be the father from Fiddler on the Roof.
Of this I am convinced.

We reached this clock archway three minutes past the hour.
So we missed the production that had to have occurred at the strike of 3 o'clock.

We followed some ACCORDION music we heard and found these guys. Accordion music. In a country that speaks French. Played by a young Belgian man. Awesome.

You should've seen the accordion players jacket.
It totally looked like something from the 90's.

We stopped for lunch at the place across from the busking Belgian men and sat outside for half a sandwich each and shared a plate of salad and frites with the best mayonnaise dipped fries I've ever had...and I've never, ever, ever had mayo on my fries. Never. Ketchup is the king of fry all condiments in my opinion, but apparently when in another country those things that I find to be odd eating habits of other people must be tried.

We had seen this structure from a mile away, thought it looked interesting
and had been heading for it this entire time.

Turns out it was this awesome plaza.

And when I say awesome...

I really do mean we were in awe.

It's a large plaza with a 360 degree view of the most amazing architecture I've seen in my life.

In the picture above you can see all the flowers being sold. In August volunteers will create a huge carpet of flowers in the center of the plaza. The carpet is made every other year and from the gorgeous pictures I've found it looks breathtaking. Apparently it takes one million begonias to complete. I'm sad we won't be here to see it. 

It gives you a feeling of greatness and smallness simultaneously. 

Built in 1699
Ahem.
1699.

This was built in the 1400's.

The detail and precision and grandeur...I wish these pictures could capture them and the feeling we both had. Katina took a video of the view which captures it better than flat pictures. Maybe she'll upload it for you.

At this point my camera battery died.
:(

After looking around and feeling a sense of amazement, we went inside an information center and found out that this was indeed Grand-Place. We'd made it! :)

The rest of our afternoon and evening was spent wandering and discovering more of the fine area. We were enchanted. At dusk we grabbed some ice cream and followed our noses wherever we desired to go.We came to a beautiful arched shopping and restaurant area, followed the long open hallway for a while until it intersected and opened up to a street. We turned left and were so glad we did. Upon turning left we felt that we had entered into another world. It was a small passageway with restaurants on either side. The sky had turned dark and each restaurant was lit up with lanterns and twinkly lights. All the restaurants had patios and the waiters were all dressed in fancy outfits, standing at attention in the streets. We licked our ice cream as we walked down this enchanting avenue, came to the end of it and wanted to walk through again. "Are we back on earth?!" was Katina's response. We continued following the crowd to random streets, and when we were tired, decided to head back through Grand Place which was just as gorgeous and slightly more magical in the twilight.

Loved. It.

I wish I could communicate to you just how magical everything felt and how much it communicates to my heart an even greater desire to be with all things international. This desire was already there, but it continues to grow. People and relationships. Travel. Experience. Building a broader world view of what's out there. How people think. How they live, etc. I'm excited to see what comes of this adventure.

Midnight Shift

As the caregiver on call during the night I probably have the hard task of seeing Rebecca in the most pain. Since R can't move her body and lying in a bed flat all the time can have all sorts of repercussions we try to eliminate some of those issues by placing a body pillow on one side of her body so that she's tilted removing it when she's awake, and then at bed time we place the pillow under her body on the opposite side. One of the first tasks during mid-night turn is to take the pillow out and lay her flat again. Because of this shift in her position the rest of her body has to be physically moved by the caregiver so that it's in correct alignment. This can be a little difficult with the thousands of blankets we pile on top of her so that she's warm (imagine if you couldn't move in the night and pull the covers up closer to your head, or change positions, you'd probably be more apt to have a cold body temperature as well), but with Rebecca's help, if she's slightly awake, she can tell you if something's wrong so that she can be moved correctly. Most of the time it means pulling out a hip so that she's not laying on it, aligning her shoulders, moving the bolster to a different position under her knees, etc.

There was one particular evening that she was in a lot of pain. I wrote this in my journal about the incident:
Last night I was only called by Rebecca once (I keep a buzzer beside my bed at night so she can call if she needs me) and it was right before I was going down to turn her so it worked out fine. I had been sleeping, so I woke with a start and couldn't find my shoes. She kept ringing, so I knew I needed to hurry, but I didn't want to slip down the stairs. She was moaning when I came in, so I knew she was in pain. It really hurts my heart when she's in pain. For someone who's suffered much, to continue suffering in the way she does brings my eyes to tears. I rubbed her leg and ankle for a while. She took 5 Aleve and a big sleeping pill and 3/4 of another. As she was slowly reaching for her pile of sleeping pills next to her alarm clock (we keep a pile of already chopped up pills on a table that we place next to her bed so that if she needs them she can reach down and bring one up to her mouth) she said, 'this is so painful'. She went on to say that it didn't hurt, it's just painstakingly difficult. To work that hard to reach for a pill and then slowly and difficulty bring it up to my mouth is something I've never had to do. It brought that familiar liquid to my eyes as I watched her. I told her as I was about to leave that I'd be praying for her and she said, "Oh! Yes, come, let's pray...are you going to have a hard time falling asleep after this?" Oh! What grace and love the Father has given her to share with others. She then prayed and thanked God for pain and prayed that we would both be able to sleep well through the rest of the night. Aside from me lying awake thinking about it all, we both slept well. She never rang for me again and in the morning she'd forgotten about having any pain. I guess that's one of God's graces towards her.

I remember being afraid that her pain was a result of me positioning her wrong during bed time. I have fears that something I do will result in her pain, but she's assured me that her life (and death) are not in our hands but in the hands of our loving Father. As Rebecca said 'Thank you Lord for pain" in her prayer, my thoughts were, Uh, what? Thank you Lord for pain? My heart was hurting to watch her in this pain and she's thanking God for it? As I rested on my pillow that night I asked the Lord wasn't it enough that she was in so much pain when the accident initially happened? Wasn't pain through recovery enough? Why must she continue to be in pain? My thoughts in my journal the next day read like this: Lord, it hurts to see her in pain. I know it must hurt you too. It must pain you to see your own children suffer, and yet, You know there is more to it than just physical pain. Paul was able to say that all his troubles and afflictions were temporary, fleeting and nothing compared to the coming glory. Nothing. They don't compare. They don't hold a candle to all that will be better. The pains here, prepare us for the coming glory. God's given her so much joy and she's touched so many lives as a result of the pain she's been through and the pain she continues to go through. (Had she not experienced this pain I would not be here.) She's experienced God's love, grace, comfort and strength to a greater extent than I have. Her fellowship in His suffering is more mature than my own. She sits quietly before God's throne in confidence that He takes care of her, giving thanks in everything. This is a thankful heart. Without these pains she would not be the person she is today. And because God allows her this pain, I see it and others see it, and He is glorified and worshiped in our hearts because of it.

I think God does some of His finest work through pain. No, I don't think He enjoys inflicting pain upon His children, He's not malicious, but His concern is that His children are shaped in His image, refined to His glory so that we might better behold Him. His grace and His mercies and His power are seen in a new light amidst and after pain. We can praise the God of sovereignty, power and creation along with Job. Even when circumstances aren't understood, we can understand that the God who is sovereign over all of them has acted in love, for His glory and our good. Think about it...His biggest act of love for His people (equally an act of power and glory) was an act that caused His own Son the most pain imaginable...

Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to fall, and I am not indignant? If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness. The God and Father of the Lord Jesus, he who is blessed forever, knows that I am not lying.           

2 Corinthians 11:24-31

Therefore we do not despair, but even if our physical body is wearing away, our inner person is being renewed day by day. For our momentary, light suffering is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison because we are not looking at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen. For what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

First Day Off!

March 15, 2012

Since it was my day off I chose to wear one of my favorite new shirts. It's a slightly silky button down shirt and has blue and yellow birds all over it. Super cute. I paired it with one of my skinny jeans, my cute walking shoes from REI, and I have my hair pulled to the side in a side pony tail. By all means I look pretty cute, (if I do say so myself) but I am a stark contrast to all these people here in Chateau du Lac. Everyone is nicely dressed in suit pants, button down shirts and ties, and they're all dressed in dark colors--my usual colors of choice, black, grey and white. But, today I'm the canary among penguins. I'm actually slightly amused. I've ordered something with vegetables and pasta...I think... and I asked them to add chicken.

The view is lovely. To my right are arched windows and outside the windows the lake is glittering in the sunlight. The first whole day of sun we've had in almost two weeks! And God has blessed me with the sun on my day off. :) Today I am joyful. Today, I am thankful.

I was worried to go into the chateau. Worried that I wasn't dressed well enough and worried that I wouldn't be able to understand them, or they me. However, so far it's worked out! No one seems to be staring at me too much. Whether or not they're talking about me, however, I can't tell. ;)

I snuck a picture while no one was looking.
With lunch eaten, I am consuming bread hot out of the oven.
The dish did *not* have pasta...in case you were wondering. 

Delicious! I've been reading A Gospel Primer, by Milton Vincent as I've been waiting. I love this book! Right now I'm on page 20-21, "Resting in Christ's Righteousness" and "Enslaved by Christ's Righteousness".

"The gospel encourages me to rest in my righteous standing with God, a standing which Christ Himself has accomplished and always maintains for me. I never have to do a moment's labor to gain or maintain my justified status before God! Freed from the burden of such a task, I now can put my energies into enjoying God, pursuing holiness, and ministering God's amazing grace to others.

The gospel also reminds me that my righteous standing with God always holds firm regardless of my performance, because my standing is based solely on the work of Jesus and not mine. On my worst days of sin and failure, the gospel encourages me with God's unrelenting grace toward me. On my best days of victory and usefulness, the gospel keeps me relating to God solely on the basis of Jesus' righteousness and not mine." --Milton Vincent

Good stuff. Page 21 is equally as good.

I couldn't eat all of it, it was so rich. 

Now I'm having chocolate mousse. So. Yummy. I can't help wondering what the waiters think of me! If feels somewhat comical, though I am now quite comfortable and don't feel as awkward. They're sweet and seem kind. I'm pretty sure that was an almost $50 dinner...

I then spent two to three hours roaming the town. I'm pretty sure I covered most of Genval.

There's a pottery painting store on the left
and a clothing store with Levi's, Lee's, etc on the right.

I actually went in one of these stores and was told it was exclusive
and I needed an invitation by someone to get in.
Fine. Phhhhbbbt.
Rebecca told me later that I could've used her name to get in. 

So I went to the grocery store next door where I was pretty sure
I couldn't be kicked out. This, dear friends is the chocolate aisle. So many to choose from. 

I like the packaging on these the best.

But it's easier to understand what they actually are
when there are pictures...

I may end up going here simply because there's a word
I very well understand, advertising what they sell.
Sandwiches. I like those. 

At home with my chocolate.
I made an educated guess that this was milk chocolate
with possibly --I was hoping-- almonds in it. 

SCORE!!!!!!

I'd gotten so sweaty on my walk that I had to remove my bird shirt upon coming back to my room. (Don't worry...I had another shirt on underneath!)

I've adapted so completely to life in New Mexico that I am no longer used to humidity. 

Savoring my chocolate! 

Today I felt very much like a foreigner. I speak hardly any French and roaming around in a French speaking town without a native or someone who knows the language can be somewhat difficult. (But, because of our earlier failed attempts to find the lake I knew the main streets and how to get back to them.) I found myself thinking that what I was experiencing might be in some ways how international students feel when they come to our cities to study. They have no car, often don't know anyone and must find their way alone. I found myself wishing a few times to just have a friend to talk to. Or even for someone along the sidewalk to stop and have a conversation. It definitely strengthened my love for 'foreigners' to our own country. (I've made a few really lovely friends that I cherish by mingling with international students.) Today, I was the foreigner.

Other than my misuse of a few French words today, I really had a lovely time!

I'm glad for my chocolate, the lovely walk, the exercise, the sunshine, the can of coke I bought at the bookstore across from the train station, the flower shop I passed, the ducks at the lake, the sweet waiters at Chateau du Lac, my delicious lunch, and for coming back to a home of people excited to see me after a day on the town.