English Isn’t My First Language

Not being able to speak the language(s) of the country you’re visiting can be extremely isolating. In Brussels I didn’t notice it so much because though we were in an apartment with another girl from Norway she spoke very good English. A lot of people in Brussels speak English. I think a lot of people in West Flanders also speak English but I just really wish that I spoke Dutch. I have to say, I am not proud to be an American.

Q: What do you call someone who speaks 3 languages?
A: Tringual.
Q: What do you call someone who speaks 2 languages?
A: Bilingual.
Q: What do you call someone who speaks 1 language?
A: American.

I know a few Dutch words. And I know what even fewer Dutch words mean. I see words on signs and I’m like “I know that word! But I don’t know what it means.” And because I can barely form a sentence it feels insulting to try. I’m just another loud American tourist disturbing this beautiful county. But everyone we have met has been kind and has spoken a bit of English and has not seemed annoyed by us. It is just myself who feels shame for not being able to speak their language.

But there is a language here, and most places, that I understand. On Sunday we drove to Dunkirk and went to Catholic Mass at St Eloi. Did I understand the words the children sang? The words we were invited to sing? The words of the priest? It was French. I know a handful of French words, but got almost nothing from the words I heard. But I heard more than the words. About 20 children took their first communion on Sunday. I am not catholic, but I understood the children’s declarations of faith. I understood the people around me kneeling. I understood the voices singing to the Lord.

That evening we went to another Catholic Mass in De Panne, Belgium. Another language. This time I picked out a few words of the sermon and recognized the Lord’s Prayer immediately when we started saying it. But it wasn’t the words that spoke to me but the people around me. A smaller service than the St Eloi by far, but just as touching.

In Catholic Mass you are only offered the bread, not the wine, something I don’t understand and want to read more about. But I understood the tears of the woman in front of me as she took the bread of communion.

Wherever you are in the world there is fellowship if you look for it. Indeed, I felt more at home with the people of St Eloi and The Chapelle Royale than I would among many English speaking people. I spoke the same language as the people around me. They are not of the same religion as me, but they don’t need to be: they are worshipping the Lord!

Travels and Journals!

I know I've mentioned it before but as a new years resolution I decided to handwrite two pages every day. I just finished off one journal a day or two ago and have a fresh journal to bring with me to Belgium! As of today I have written 212 pages this year!

Sometimes I envision a shelf full of journals, but these aren't full of any great matter. I write the interesting stuff here on my blog. Stuff like "Hey, I'm writing a journal" and "Hugh Jackman is the awesomest celebrity ever." Important stuff like that. But my journals are even more dull. Sometimes it is literally "I don't want to write. Gotta fill these pages. Blah blah blah. I'm bored of writing. I hate writing. I love writing."

But it's an exercise and it's good for me.

In other news, I leave for Belgium today?! What? What? I'm sure that in the next few hours the anxiety will hit, but I'm actually feeling quite chill this morning. Oh, you know, just popping on to a plane this afternoon and going to Europe like you do. No big deal.

Except that it is a big deal and I am beyond excited and there will be so much to do and see and I am crossing my fingers that I will get to see fields of tulips and some windmills. Since "seeing windmills" is on our itinerary, I'm thinking there's a chance! Also, it's tulip season in the Netherlands and I assume there will be some tulips in Belgium too. 

Oh man! I don't know how often I will post blog posts while I'm away, but I hope to post a few!

Prayers and well-wishes for a fun and safe adventure will be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading my blog. I'll write again soon, I hope!

I'm Belgian Bound.

My brain is mush after a very short amount of research. Cause scouring the web for a bit of information is made SO much harder when you're slogging through French and Flemish websites trying to make sense of it from the little you know. And yes, I am aware of "translate this page" buttons which work some of the time.

I am sure my brain will be even more mush when I arrive in Belgium. But I am excited. Oh by the way, did I tell you I'm going to Belgium? I am so excited about it all. It's a long story involving me voluntarily getting dragged into making a movie with a friend. I was free to help out and so I kept being around and going to meetings and planning and then all of the sudden I was co-producing and assistant directing a film. Ask me about it sometime.

So, one thing led to another and now we're going to do some research in Belgium and location scouting and DANG! I'm going to Belgium! The last time I left the country was 8 years ago when I went to New Zealand (not including trips to Canada). I've been to Canada, Mexico, New Zealand, England Scotland and, though it barely counts, a 3 hour layover in Germany. I have never been to Europe proper and by the end of April I'll be able to say I've been to 3 more countries (4 if you count two short layovers in the Dublin airport).

Needless to say I am quite excited! I am mostly pretty organized and packed at this point with only a few more things to add to my suitcase. Can't forget my toothbrush. Not sure why it wasn't on my list already, but luckily a friend offered to look over my list and pointed out the essentials that I was missing. Super useful. Always get someone to look over your packing list.

Life is good. God is good. I am grateful. I am Belgian bound!

The Lord Wants to Know

I think one of my favorite passages in the Word is "Did not our hearts burn within us?" It's such a powerful image of the Lord's words stirring us.

But the story is also so much about our obliviousness. It starts out with two disciples walking along and the Lord joining them on their path.

"And He said to them, What words are these which you exchange with each another, while you walk and are sad? And one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answering, said to Him, Art Thou only a sojourner in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things which have come to pass there in these days? And He said to them, What things?" (Luke 24:17-19)

The Lord is omniscient, and yet He asks them why they are sad. And they wonder how He doesn't know what is going on when this is the biggest thing that has happened! Something monumental just happened in their lives and this Person asks them "Why are you sad?"

How often does that happen to us? We're going through something huge and the Lord asks us casually "Why are you sad?" and we answer "How do you not know?!" and He responds "Tell me about it."

The Lord wants to know. He always wants to hear what is going on. He already knows but He still wants us to come and tell Him.

I still feel like I am bad at praying, and yet we are told that prayer is speech with God. It shouldn't be that hard to talk to the Lord, and yet it always is for me, so I appreciate this reminder that the Lord knows it all and yet He still asks us to tell Him. He is always there and ready to listen, but I still need this reminder to open my eyes to Him.

"Taking bread, He blessed it; and breaking, gave it to them. And their eyes were opened, and they knew Him; and He became invisible to them. And they said one to another, Did not our heart burn within us, while He spoke to us in the way, and while He opened to us the Scriptures? And standing up in that same hour, they returned to Jerusalem, and found the eleven assembled, and those who were with them, saying, The Lord has truly risen!" (30-34)