Dear Friend,
The eagle of the Alps is sometimes beaten down by the tempest into the narrow defiles of the mountains. Storm clouds shut in this mighty bird of the forest, their dark masses separating her from the sunny heights where she has made her home. Her efforts to escape seem fruitless. She dashes to and fro, beating the air with her strong wings, and waking the mountain echoes with her cries. At length, with a note of triumph, she darts upward, and, piercing the clouds, is once more in the clear sunlight, with the darkness and tempest far beneath.
So we may be surrounded with difficulties, discouragement, and darkness. Falsehood, calamity, injustice, shut us in. There are clouds that we cannot dispel. We battle with circumstances in vain. There is one, and but one, way of escape. The mists and fogs cling to the earth; beyond the clouds God’s light is shining. Into the sunlight of His presence we may rise on the wings of faith.
That’s a quote written by Ellen White on the inside of the back cover of Tibi’s hymnal. I found it appropriate, considering my newly found topic of study: perseverance. It seems all of the good quotes, all of the good stories, involve some form of persevering against impossible odds. I’ve never read the books (shame on me!) but I’m reminded of an exchange between Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins at the end of The Two Towers. The two little hobbits are absolutely exhausted from their journey to Mordor, and have almost given up hope after just escaping the Nazgul for the umpteenth time in Osgiliath. Yet, perseverance wins out:
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.
Today was packing day for our own upcoming journey through the mountains. I’d like to say we managed rather well, getting all our supplies tucked cozily away into our backpacks. I’m hoping the shrinking of my backpack over time, primarily from the use of food, will be a precursor to the shrinking of my luggage for my return to the States. We have plenty of food. We also have plenty of “gorp” (good old raisins and peanuts.) Our weather starting out is supposed to be rather disagreeable, so “layers” is the word of the week.
I showed Chelsea, Anne, and Andrew the “Sacred Stage” trailer after we reconvened at the New Horizons office, following our packing party. They were really impressed with the trailer, and equally as excited to see me featured in it. What followed was Chelsea and Anne reminiscing about their experiences seeing Terror Texts and how disappointed they were at not being able to see it this upcoming November. I’m disappointed myself, but having been a part of the experience I am very excited about the process happening even now in Northwestern’s theatre department. It was around this time also, by the way, that I taught Chelsea and Anne how to use a cigarette lighter. They were really excited when they lit them themselves. We need them for our week in the Retezat. Don’t ask me how I know how to use them.
I had a little free time to myself when I returned to Tibi’s flat. He was out shopping for supper. I plopped myself down on the couch, slippers on, and started reading the autobiography of one of my favorite contemporary heroines and teachers: Heiji sensei, or as she’s known by her friends in the States, Heidi Friesen. One of my going away gifts was a hard copy of her blog, written during her first year teaching English in Japan. As I would be taking on a sort of teaching position in Romania, this gift was given to me by mutual friends. “Heiji sensei,” by the way, was what Heidi’s students called her when she first arrived, according to her entry written on September 14, 2004 (just four years ago yesterday!) “Sensei” means teacher.
Perseverance is the topic once again. Like myself, I would imagine, Heidi found herself in circumstances that challenged her and took her outside her comfort zone. In the face of each challenge, however, she was able to persevere with a Spirit of courage and humility only given to her by Christ. She also managed to chronicle much of her experience during these challenges with an uncanny employment of the English language. She has a way of making something as simple as peanut butter a very important part of her story.
Heidi wrote in her October 2, 2004 entry something I thought very profound: “Yesterday reminded me that I am a teacher only because I am teaching, not because I know how to teach. I am told that this – actually attempting the thing – is the way to learn.” Maybe I only find what she wrote profound because I want it to be profound, something she coincidently addressed in her following entry on October 4. Maybe the only reason it means anything to me is that I want it to mean something. After all, I’m doing many things now, and am going to do many more things, that I don’t know anything about. Yet, after these past couple of weeks, I’m a rock climber, a worship leader, a cigarette lighter instructor and, in a couple of weeks, a teacher of theatre.
Heidi further wrote on October 4, 2004 that these profundities are reminders that “seeking the Kingdom is not an idle suggestion.” Excuse me, Heidi, if I take what you wrote out of context, but I’m willing to suggest that being a teacher is very much like being a Christian. We learn by “actually attempting the thing.” As Christians, though, we have the Word of God, which can serve as a “How To Do” manual only if we attempt it. Sometimes we really don’t know how to be a Christian. Sometimes we act by faith, but it is an action, an attempt, a prompting to seek the Kingdom and not take that call as an idle suggestion. This recalls to mind Dana's verse from 2 Thessalonians: "With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may count you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may fulfill every good purpose of yours and every act prompted by your faith. " (1:11, emphasis added) I don’t know. I’m really just shooting my electronic mouth off, but I believe “profound” isn’t relative. Nor would, I think, Heidi, for that matter. Things profound are so because they relate to the Spirit dwelling within us, and are indeed reminders of the Kingdom.
A profundity of late comes to mind when I think of this evening. Tibi walked into the flat about twenty minutes or so after I returned. He was bundled up for the cold, rainy weather, and carrying sacks of food from the Penny Market down the road. He greeted me with a smile and a hello. Tibi, I should’ve told you, stands almost six feet tall, is of average build, and has very short red hair. He looks like a cross between Paul Bettany and Ed Harris, for those of you who can picture that. He asked if I was hungry, to which I replied in the affirmative, and he started looking for what we can eat for supper. He was set on more mushrooms, but understoods my reservations and tried to rack his brain for options.
I’ve mentioned before Tibi’s selflessness and servant-heartedness. I have another teacher in Tibi. It seems in his nature to be so caring. He doesn’t think twice about making sure I’m fed and comfortable. I’m not at all an inconvenience to him, though I may sometimes feel that way. He started tossing out ideas: eggs, fruit, vegetables. I agreed to the eggs and fruit, assuring him that would be more than enough for me. He was set on mushrooms for himself. As Tibi is a vegetarian, mushrooms are his meat. He explained this to me earlier, when his towers of mushrooms were displayed on the counter in his kitchen.
I let him cook. It’s best that way. However, I didn’t want to just sit and wait while he prepared everything. By this time, I had learned my way around the kitchen. I pulled out the table from the corner and set it with plates and cutlery. Tibi got out some bread, which meant I should set out the blueberry jam and honey. Finally the plate of fruit was set, our feast was blest, and we set to eating. The meal was rather quiet.
In true Tibi fashion, I was once again offered ice cream to cap off the meal. I, naturally, accepted. Tibi’s ice cream is made from soy milk, sunflower oil, and honey. He adds barley for flavor, and then freezes it. He says you can add fruit before you freeze or after you freeze. Bananas make the ice cream creamier, so I’ve been filled with banana ice cream. To get the creamy texture, Tibi blends the frozen ice cream with bananas, and then adds some flavored syrup. Any fruit is optional, but bananas have the creamy texture. I’ve had “healthy” homemade ice cream just about every night since I came to stay with Tibi.
I didn’t bother waiting for the drawing of the straws, and willingly did the dishes. During this time, Tibi and I had a conversation about loneliness. I’ve come to appreciate our conversations, as Tibi is very honest and genuine with his answers. Yesterday, after purchasing some items from a convenience store, I made the comment that people don’t seem happy here. This boiled down to a conversation about employment being difficult to find, money difficult to have, and satisfaction difficult to receive. This conversation eventually led to a conversation about not having Christ in one’s life to be satisfied.
Our conversation about loneliness, a conversation once again spurred on by a question I asked Tibi, led us back into the territory of marriage. “Commune” was a word Tibi used often, and discovering that “communion” was the answer to our loneliness. Communion, we agreed, could be had with anyone, in a community or in a marriage. I explained what I had been learning recently about my loneliness, or my singleness, depending on which subject we were on. It was another opportunity for me to get to know Tibi better.
We ended the night with singing. Tibi sang, I listened. This is where I found the quote from Ellen White, another profundity. Tibi’s hymnal is full of songs I had never heard of. Some were written by people he met in Germany, when he was going to school. Some were even written by Americans he met while at school. They’re all very good hymns, and all have references to what passages they’re based on. Tibi has a good singing voice, too. It’s very warm and rich. I don’t know how trained he is as a singer, but he seemed to be sight reading rather well. There were times he was a little out of tune, also, but that happens to the best of us.
It’s raining right now. Tomorrow is sure to be a wet, even miserable day. Right now, though, the soft pitter-patter of the rain makes for a soothing lullaby. I hope this finds you well, friend, as you read it. I will be gone now for seven days, maybe more, depending on the next time I’ll have Internet access. Until that time, I pray God’s blessings go with you and before you during this week. Much love.
Noapte bună (Good night.)
Kailen
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