A last-minute train ride to Turin!

Our tired team had just made it back to the hotel after that awesome evening of bowling and dinner with the students. "Do you want to come with us to Torino in the morning? They're having an encouragement time for the ladies there tomorrow."

What a beautiful surprise, plopped right into our lap! I was thrilled, but hubby was ecstatic. Years before our church's partnership in Milan, he had been on a short-term team to Turin and he still had many friends in that beautiful city.

The rest of the team planned to spend the day in Milan's historic center, so we left Chrissy in charge and gave her the team cell phone.

Early the next morning, we boarded a train!

Milan rests in a fertile valley ringed by hazy blue Alps. The view out the window was a gorgeous panorama of blue skies, red-tiled roofs, and flooded rice fields. (Who would have guessed that Italy was the place to grow rice, right?)

Turin has the kind of picturesque charm that can turn even a camera phone snapshot into something frame-able. I took this one at a half-jog as we crossed a street on our way to enjoy a delicious lunch at the home of one of the pastors. 

After lunch, I had a sweet walk and a coffee with Pam, and I realized all over again just how beautiful her heart is. 

We made our way back to the deceptively tiny storefront of the church, and into the underground rooms below the street. There were about ten of us crowded into the Sunday school room, representing about five different countries. I felt so encouraged simply to be there, surrounded by women seeking the Lord in a city known for its darkness. 

And then it just kept getting better! As I talked with some of the younger girls, I learned that three of them were from Romania! As we talked and shared in the beautiful Romanian language, it was as if sweet oil were being poured on the rusty door holding memories of my past time in Moldova. As it swung open, my heart was flooded with the joy of it all. It was as if Jesus, knowing the love I still carry deep for that nation, said, "Here; I haven't forgotten. I see your heart."

At dinner, I finally met one of the dear friends that hubby had made years earlier. "You know?" she said. "Those years, being involved with English Clubs...those were the most fun years I have ever had."

Five Years with my Love

Yes, we are that couple.

The ones who still celebrate the anniversary of "this-is-when-we-started-dating". It might be corny, but I've always loved corny. Corny with extra cheese is my favorite.

Because it's fun.
Because it reminds us of where and why we started.
And because taking time to celebrate the past gives us that extra "oomph" to keep holding hands and pressing forward.

For the past three years, our dating anniversary has fallen during the Italy mission trip in Milan. How lucky can a girl get, right?

Each time, hubby has carved out an evening for a date.

It's just us two, walking arm in arm to some restaurant close by. We order wine. We dip bread in the oil that always tastes better here and we struggle to pronounce our food.

I sit and look at this man and think how blessed I am.

Our Crem Caramel della casa arrives, and it tastes like Mexican flan. Apparently, the hubby doesn't like flan but never knew. We giggle about it and I finish the whole thing.

I remember our first date-that-wasn't-a-date, before I knew he liked me. We sat at the coffee shop with a pastry between us, our forks plucking away at both ends. I refused the last bite. I took half. He laughed and took half. I took half again.

He thought I was ridiculous, but it was my family's way. Now, with the finished crem, I guess we're forming new ways.

Later we walk to another restaurant so he can have dessert. Chocolate mousse pie with candied pear on top. Takeout? Yes, thank you, we say.

There were no pictures. It was devoured too fast.

It seems unreal. Five years? My heart spills over with thanks for you, babe. I feel so hopeful for the next five years.

Scratch that--I meant the next five decades.

Living forgiven in front of them

 In my last post, I gave a teaser about our awesome Friday night. Thanks for patiently waiting! I always overestimate the amount of blogging time I'll have while we're over here in Milan.  (I mean, who knew we'd need silly stuff like sleep and food, right?)

Every evening after English Clubs, we go as a group to a local restaurant and invite the students to join us. The conversations we enjoy over food are often quieter and more personal than any we could have in the short break time during English Clubs, so we were excited when a large group joined us on Friday.

That particular night, we had an additional attraction: bowling! I'm terrible at the game, but I *almost* got a spare once, and laughing makes you bond with people, right? I don't mind being the joke. :)

Stylish, no?

Srike celebration!

"Giorda" is apparently the only logical way to spell my hubby's name...

After bowling, we headed over to the food court. I was with a sweet, talkative girl I'll call Rose, and I decided at the last second to join her group at "The Wild West". It's Italy's attempt at Tex-Mex, and while their guacamole leaves much to be desired, they do have pretty good nachos.

As the four of us at our end of the restaurant booth talked about the civic role of the Catholic Church in Italy, our studies, and our families, I was praying. I was listening intently, trying to hear past the surface and understand their hearts.

Usually, Italians are very reserved, and they have a hard time sharing personal details or discussing deeper topics. But if you listen well, there are often clues dropped about painful circumstances in their lives that can help you have a deeper conversation with them later.

Rose told how her mother had suddenly become very devout after visiting a shrine in another part of Italy. She now goes to church daily, as well as praying an hour every evening.

"How do you feel about the change in your mom?" I asked.

"Oh, it is fine and good," she said. "I like that she chooses this herself. It is not only religion. There is no person forcing her to do this--she decided it on her own. I think there is big difference between religion and a faith."

"I agree," I said. "When I was little, it was easy to believe in God because my parents told me. Later, I had questions and I found the answers when I read the Bible for myself. My cousin told me that it is ok to have questions because if something is true, it will still be true after you test it.'"


The conversation shifted and I listened for a long time. Then one of the guys said, "Wait--I want to hear you talk. Tell us about Texas." They listened, disbelieving, as I described the distance from Houston to Dallas, the variety of foods and cultures represented, the fact that not everything is desert, and the country dancing. The conversation was about to veer into an animated debate about Wild West shows when the same guy said, "No, this is OK, but tell us something else. I like to hear your voice. Tell us whatever you like."

Could I have asked for a more perfect chance to tell how God has changed me?

So I told my story.

How I used to find my value in the fact that I was a good student. How I thought my family was perfect. How my Grandma died. How Dad lost his job. How God helped me forgive my parents completely because I have been forgiven. How I now know that my value comes from the fact that I'm loved by God--not from what I do.

As we paid and walked out of the mall, Rose said, "I can feel everything you said. It is so similar to my life!"

She had to leave early and can't spend any more time with our team because of a job in another city, but neither one of us wanted to stop talking.

Please pray for this beautiful girl and for the other students who were sitting close. I know from experience that only God can give hope to a family that is breaking apart.
Only God can help us forgive wounds like that.
Only God's love can silence the accusing voices that tell us we're unlovely and unlovable. 

An overdue update!

Our first week here in Milan is drawing to a close, and the stories are starting to pile up, so it's time for an update!

Our team is finally (thankfully) out from under the foggy influence of travel fatigue, and I've watched everyone get more and more comfortable with the daily routine, using public transport, ordering food, and speaking to the Italian students. Even though I've been to Milan twice before, it always takes me a few days to re-remember how things work, and I've had some hiliarious moments as I've tried to stumble through pronunciations or figure out what someone just asked me.

It helps to remember that if we feel unsure, the Italian students are often just as nervous (if not more) than we are. We might be in a foreign country, but at least we get to remain in the comfort of our own language.

On the first day of English Clubs, we played games and made small talk and laughed as we tried to pronounce everyone's name. My name is hard even for Americans to pronounce and remember, but it's a real doozie for them. However, Gabrielle, one of the girls on our team, simply switched out the "e" at the end of her name for an "a", and voila! She has an Italian name! Some of the students even mistook her for an Italian when they glanced at her nametag. :)

The first day was good, but the second was amazing! Instead of going to a classroom, we all trooped to a beautiful park that sits a short mile or so from campus. In the bright sunshine and pollen we played soccer (pronounced "futbol" here, just as in Mexico), and even taught the students to play Ultimate Frisbee. They got really competitive!

I brought my tennis shoes to play, but I ended up talking in the shade with some of the girls who didn't want to run around. As we discussed cultural differences, our families, and our dreams for the future, I found myself thinking that these girls were the ages of my sisters.

The awesome conversations continued at the "aperitivo" (happy hour) at a campus cafe. We crowded over twenty people around the tables, laughing at the wind that kept blowing our napkins and food into our laps.

Today was probably the best day yet, but it's 1 am here in Milan and tomorrow Jordan are boarding a train for Turin early in the morning (a last-minute trip that we planned just today!), so I need to sign off.

But please don't stop praying! All week, in both my personal times with Jesus and times with the team, I've been learning about the necessity, urgency and privilege of prayer.

Your prayers matter. 

They move the heart of God to move in the hearts and circumstances of people, and we know that nothing we do will have lasting fruit unless it's done in His strength.

Please pray: 

• That many students would join our team as they go sight-seeing around the center of Milan tomorrow (10 hrs from the time of this post)
• For our team to be encouraged and joyful
• For the three students I got to share my story with tonight!!! (Ohh, it was so exciting!! But you'll have to wait until the next post. :) ) 

Photons, and a safe place for my flurried soul

There is this wonderful sentence near the end of my Bible. It's dense and heady and rich like eggnog, and I've been sipping slowly, savoring each phrase ever since Easter.

In our team devotional time, we were challenged to ruminate on the words of God, let them soak into us deeply, digest them and re-digest them until they saturate us, become part of us.

Our leader actually coined a word--part Italian, part American silliness--to describe the process: "moo-care". (moo-KAH-reh) It's from "mangiare", the Italian word meaning "to eat", and "moo", as in, well, a cow.
Eat, chew, digest.
Repeat.

Not a lovely image, but accurate. So here is the verse I've been "moo-care-ing" on for about a month.

"The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his being..."

In 7th grade science, I learned about light. The photons that bounce off of objects into my eyes are what allow me to see the color and shape of anything I look at. You could say that those photons are the exact representation of whatever I see.

Without the radiance of light, the world would be dark, formless, mysterious.
Before the Radiance of God's glory in Christ, God was a mystery.

But we have seen him.

He is knowable.


"...sustaining all things by his powerful word."

God doesn't haphazardly breathe life, get wheels turning, and then turn His back.

He sustains all things. He continually breathes life into this universe, holds laws of physics in place so that electrons rotate at orbit and water drips downward and the earth stays tilted just so.

He sustains all things. The everything included in that tiny phrase of power spells safety and security to my flurried soul. Sand slips through fingers and things slip from my mind like so much sand, but nothing escapes his power and love.

All my crazy running-out-the-door moments.
All the am-I-enough wonderings.
All of me, sustained. Upheld. Plucked from darkness as many times as I return to it. Imbued with life not my own.

By the same powerful Word that once created life from nothing, He now sustains ours.
That Word was with God at the beginning,
And was God,
And now intercedes for you to God as He sits, victorious.

Me and my lovely teammates at dinner on Tuesday! 

Exciting things are happening here in Milan, y'all! I'll post another update tonight with lots of pictures.
(Today's post is based on Hebrews 1:3a)

Ciao-dy, Milan! It's been a while

We're here! After 22 hours, two flights, a 5-hour layover and a van ride through Milan, we finally hoisted our bags and our sleepy selves upstairs at our hotel this morning at around 11:30 am local time.

(For family members who are curious, Milan is seven hours ahead of TX time. Our bodies felt like it was 3:30 am.)

Hubby zonked out during the layover in Newark

The Alps! 

The bus ride through Milan from the airport

First meal in Italy! So much fun reconnecting with the team and meeting a new friend as well.

Here we are! Exhausted to the core, but thankful for a safe trip.

The hubs is signaling that blogging time has expired, so I'll let the pictures be enough for now. Please pray for our team to be well rested tomorrow as we begin the first week of English Clubs and meet students on campus tomorrow!

If you're wondering why we're in Italy, click here, and then join us by praying!

On our way to Italy again!

The New York skyline is just barely visible past the forest of airplane fins jutting into the sky, and our team is sitting excitedly as we wait to board our second flight. We're finally on our way to Italy!

It's been a marathon of a week. Several people on our team (including my own hubby) are still sleep-deprived from final exams. Two of the girls actually graduated from Texas A&M this weekend (whoop!), and I worked two of the graduation ceremonies as a marshal because of my job in the graduate studies office. But we definitely feel that God is sustaining us and answering the prayers of our support team! Keep on praying!

One wonderful answer to prayer is that we did NOT have to wake up at an insane hour and drive to the airport this morning. The parents of one of the girls on the team generously hosted our whole troop last night, fed us delicious homemade meals, and drove us to the airport this morning before church. Thank you, Mrs. Spachek, for mothering us all on Mother's Day! 

A second answer to prayer came this afternoon during our layover when another teammate discovered that her debit card was missing. This particular friend is planning to stay the entire summer in Milan for an internship with the church plant team, so the loss of her card was not a small thing. We started praying while she and my hubby went to retrace her steps. God answered! Some wonderful honest person turned the card in to the lost and found desk and we all felt so relieved.

A few things to pray for:

• Continued safety as we fly to Milan tonight
• The safe arrival of all luggage, and that we don't lose any more important items! :)
• Good health. Because so many on our team are tired, we're praying for protection against sickness and headaches. 
• Opportunities to talk about Jesus with people on the flight 

Enjoy a few pictures from today! I will update y'all soon from Milan once we arrive. 

The first flight from Houston

Waiting in the Newark airport during our 5-hr layover

Newark, NJ

Paul taught us now to play spades!