My Mom

          Greetings from Belgrade! Although I have many things to tell of my current travels, this blog is for my mom. Today, March 5, is her birthday. I hope if you read my Valentine’s Day blog, you already know much about my mom and how much I appreciated the way I grew up, always feeling supported and loved by both of my parents. What you might not know, is that my mom and I are opposites when it comes to personality. I am an ENFP, she is an ISTJ, if you know the Meyer’s Briggs test. I love history, big ideas, and am wildly idealistic. She is a former math teacher who thinks in more practical terms. Sometimes when I ask her a question such as, “Mom, have you ever thought how inconvenient it would be to be a giraffe and have such a long neck?” or something of the sort, she will just look at me and wonder where I came from because she would never think of such things. (Then we look at my dad and realize where the genes came from).

          But even though we are different, there is usually no one I would rather spend time with. My mom is the most loving, caring person I know. She is still the first I call when I am having a bad day. She is also the first one I call when I have big, exciting news. Through all my dreaming and crazy ups and downs, she has always been there. Sometimes she helps me rationally think through situations. In other times, she just listens and holds me when I cry. We love to watch movies together, go shopping together, and just talk. I can always be myself around her because she knows me probably better than I know myself. She is a strong, amazing woman who looks to see the best in everyone. I have learned what it means to truly love my neighbor and my enemies by looking to her example. She is a much better person than I am, and I can only hope that someday I will have as much love and wisdom to give.

Mom, there is so much to say, but I think the Backstreet Boys say it best…

It takes a lot to know what is love

It's not the big things, but the little things

That can mean enough

A lot of prayers to get me through

And there is never a day that passes by

I don't think of you

You were always there for me

Pushing me and guiding me

Always to succeed

You showed me

When I was young just how to grow

You showed me

Everything that I should know

You showed me

Just how to walk without your hands

Cuz mom you always were

The perfect fan

God has been so good

Blessing me with a family

Who did all they could

And I've had many years of grace

And it flatters me when I see a smile on your face

I wanna thank you for what you've done

In hopes I can give back to you

And be the perfect son

[Chorus]

You showed me how to love

You showed me how to care

And you showed me that you would always be there

I wanna thank you for that time

And I'm proud to say you're mine

[Chorus]

Cuz mom you always were,

Mom you always were

Mom you always were,

You know you always were

Cuz mom you always were... the perfect fan

I love you Mom

A Prayer For Your Thursday

Here is a prayer my mom sent me and I thought I would share with you today. 

O Lord, 

in the turbulence

and the loneliness

of my living from day to day

and night to night,

keep me in touch with my roots,

so I will remember where I came from and with whom;

keep me in touch with my feelings,

so I will be more aware of who I really am and what it costs;

keep me in touch with my mind

so I will know who I am not and what that means;

and keep me in touch with my dreams,

so I will grow toward where I want to go and for whom.

O, Lord,

deliver me from the arrogance of assuming

I know enough to judge others;

deliver me from the timidity of presuming

I don't know enough to help others;

deliver me from the illusion of claiming I have changed enough

when I have only risked little,

that, so liberated, I will make some the days to come different.

O, Lord,

I ask not to be delivered

from the tensions that wind me tight,

but I do ask for a sense of direction in which to move once wound,

a sense of humor about my disappointments,

a sense of respect for the elegant puzzlement of being human,

and a sense of gladness for your kingdom

which comes in spite of my fretful pulling and tugging.

O, Lord,

nurture in me the song of a lover,

the vision of a poet,

the questions of a child,

the boldness of a prophet,

the courage of a disciple.

O, Lord,

it is said you created people

because you love stories.

Be with me as I live out my story.

by Ted Loder

The Geography of Bliss

          I finished a really fascinating book the other week called "The Geography of Bliss : One Grump's Search for the Happiest Places in the World," by Eric Weiner. The author travelled to ten different countries trying to figure out the secret to happiness and if a place can make one happy. He chose countries based on research (http://unsdsn.org/resources/publications/world-happiness-report-2013/) and his own experience from working as a news correspondent all over the world. I thought the book was brilliant, with the author telling all his personal experiences, while giving us glimpses at different ways of looking and thinking about happiness. His main conclusion was "Money matters, but less than we think and not in the way we think. Family is important. So are friends. Envy is toxic. So is excessive thinking. Beaches are optional. Trust is not. Neither is gratitude."I whole heartedly advise you to read the entire book.

         But I wanted to tell you about some thoughts that this book brought up for me. One concept that came up early in the book was home. Weiner writes, "Humans, even nomadic ones, need a sense of home. Home need not be one place or any place at all, but every home has two essential elements: a sense of community and, even more important, a history." I have written before that I have struggled with the concept of home because I moved a few times growing up and never identified strongly with one place as my home. But Weiner's definition makes a lot of sense to me because when I feel "homesick," I do not miss a place (certainly not rural Ohio), but I miss my friends and family, my community. I miss having people who knows my stories and have been a part of my life, my history. Here in Croatia, I do not have that. I am making friends and I am creating a new part of my own history, but it is not the same. Here is not home. And can we truly be happy when we do not feel at home?

         I think we can, but while reading this book I began to believe that I couldn't. I started thinking about the things that make me happy and realized that most of these things are back in the United States. I began thinking of last school year when I was the happiest I had ever been. And in comparison, I thought that I must be very unhappy here in Croatia. And for a few days I found myself in a rut, believing that I couldn't be happy here and the next two years would go by very slowly, indeed. But after many long Skype conversations and a few long runs, I was able to realize that happiness has different forms. At EMU I was happy because I was living with all my best friends. I was able to take interesting classes and excel in my schoolwork. I had many leadership roles and felt like I was able to make contributions to the campus community. All these things brought happiness and a fulfilled life. 

           But, I am happy here, too. I can be happy because I know I have a home. My community and history might not be here, but I know that there will always be people who love me and support me and they will always be there for me. Being away, I am able to better appreciate the things that I took for granted. I am also forced to look for the little things that make me happy, such as running by the Drava or singing "Fifty Nifty United States" to my co-workers in the library. I am happy here because I get the opportunity to travel and discover new people, new places, and new ways of thinking about the world. I am happy because I have the time to read books for fun again. I am happy because as hard and lonely as times can be here, I know that I am learning so much more about myself and the world around me; lessons I would not learn if I was still in the United States. 

         And as happy as I am, I also realize that happiness is not what I really want out of life. I want to be happy, but more than that, I want to have a purpose in my life. Right now, I feel called into peace work. This work is probably won't make me happy all the time as I will see suffering and violence all around. However, I do hope that this work will make me feel fulfilled as I help others in need. And possibly make the world a better, happier place to live in. Even Weiner, in the end of his book, realizes that life is not always going to be happy and that is okay. Happiness is good, but it is not the most important part of life. 

....Although I am trying to be content living in Croatia, I did want to add a bit about the place where I hope one day to live and what would make me happy. I have decided that I want to move to Denver, Colorado. You see, I love the Rocky Mountains and there is no place on earth (at least that I have see) , that can compare to those mountains. However, I also want to live in a city that is artsy, is healthy, has a lot of events to go to, and has a Mennonite church. Denver seems to be the perfect combination and is a city that sees a lot of sun all year round. However, I also need community, so I have decided that when I move back to the the U.S., I hope to get several of my friends to move to Denver with me. Hopefully I could find work with some NGO working with refugees or community development or something of the sort.  I would be doing work I love, surrounded by the people I love, in a place that makes me happy. This is my dream. 

To My Valentine

          Today is a very special day. As you all may know, it is Valentine’s Day. I happen to love Valentine’s Day… not because I like the cheesy gifts or receiving candy (although I do love candy) but because Valentine’s Day is the day I get to celebrate the man I love most in the world: my dad. You see, February 14 is my dad’s birthday. In my family, we always say all the hearts and festivities are for him. I always loved that his birthday was celebrated all over the world and decorations were everywhere! And instead of cake, my mom would always make a cherry pie with hearts cut out of the crust. This year, I am very far from home and I am not able to eat that pie with my dad in. And so I decided to write this blog post for him, so that everyone may know the best guy in the world, who has filled my life with so much love. 

          My dad has always been a very active father and deeply involved in my life. He has always been there for me: every band and choir concert, every tennis match. Even when he started a new job in Ohio my senior year of high school, he would make the hour and a half drive for all of my tennis matches. And in college, when I wasn’t involved with music or athletics, my dad made it a priority to come down to visit me in Virginia, just to spend time and know the place where I was living. Growing up, every summer my family would go on  vacation. I look back on these times with such fondness. One of my favorite times would be when my dad would make up stories around the campfire. I used to think they were the best and that my dad was brilliant for being to make them up on the spot. Looking back, I realize that they weren’t all that great, but to a little kid, I was introduced to magical worlds with lot of funny named characters. Even back then, my dad was my hero.

          As I have grown older, I have come to have so much respect with the ways I was brought up. I am a pastor’s daughter, but my parents have never pushed their faith on me. They have allowed me the space to question and grow. In recent times, I have talked a lot about my doubts with my dad. He doesn’t ever give me answers, but listens so intently and helps me ask the right questions. Even in times when we differ, he always listens and always loves. I know I can say anything to him because his love for me will never change. He always encourages and is quick to remind me of how proud he is of me. Even during school when I have pressured myself to be perfect, the pressure never came from my parents. They wanted me to succeed and do well, but were the first to tell me that getting straight A’s was not the most important thing in life. My mentor from college once told me that my dad is very wise man and she is right. My dad might not have all the answers, but he has so much love, grace, and experience that his advice is always extremely valuable.

          And day by day he continues to amaze me with his wisdom and ability to continue in hard times. In September, he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s. This was a really hard realization to deal with . But instead of getting really down, my dad preached this in his first sermon after coming back to work...

“The Parkinson’s diagnosis was not only a shock but a game changer. Our lives would never be the same. I wondered if my ministry was over. I never thought my 61^st year of life would bring me a chronic illness for which there is no cure. I cried out to God and felt abandoned by God and sometimes it seemed like I was all alone. After much reflection and prayer, I began to see that Parkinson’s was not a death knell but an opportunity to look at my life in a new way and see clearly what is basic and important in life. …. [Like the Israelites in Jeremiah] we all have our exiles to live with. Things we can’t really change but must live with. Some exiles are bigger than others. But in any exile we have the choice. We have the choice to become bitter or better… Jeremiah challenges the Jews in captivity, and us, -- to embrace the place where we find ourselves, and find ways to be faithful in our living, so that others might inquire about our inspiration, our resolve, and our trust, and thereby be drawn into relationship with God.”

          Dad, you are my hero. I am amazed everyday by your incredible love and wisdom. I know sometimes you have self-doubt, but I have seen first-hand how you bless all those around you. You are truly an inspiration and I know God exists when I see your life. I love you so much and wish that I could be there celebrating with you. I wish you the best day and may the year ahead be filled with much love and happiness. And always remember that even though I am far, far away, I will always be your little girl. Happy Birthday and a very Happy Valentine's Day!

My dad and I in October when I flew to Europe.

My dad and I years ago. 

Ways to tell I'm an American

          As I have now been in Europe for almost four months, I have noticed quite a few differences. I do not feel like a typical American, in fact I am in the minority when I claim my pacifism beliefs and my worries about politics in the U.S. However, it is when I am far from the U.S. when I realize just how American I am. And so here we go, five ways you can tell I am an American.

1) The most obvious one is when I open my mouth. My Croatian is still very rough and I most often speak in English. And my English is obviously American. People will ask me where I am from and I answer the United States and they always give me the "duh, I know that," look, followed by "which state?"

2) The second obvious way to tell I am American is that I am not afraid of going outside with wet hair or flats without socks, even in the winter. I should first say, when I do these things in the winter, I am walking perhaps 100 feet outside from my dorm to the library. I know I will only be outside a few seconds and thus I am not worried about getting sick. However, Croatians look at me like I am crazy! Croatians, like a lot of Europeans, believe that by going outside with wet hair or not wearing enough clothes, you will get sick! And I think this is true of them. I believe that if you are worried or think you will get sick, you are more likely to do so. However, I just laugh it off and tell people I am American and thus will not get sick. I doubt that I will ever wear as many layers or as heavy coats as Croatians... that just seems hot! But I also doubt that I will get sick because of this. So far, I have managed to stay fairly healthy here in Croatia, even as others have had colds and flus.

3) I think a lot about getting things done and being as productive as possible. This does not mean that I act in ways that are productive all of the time, but I feel like all my time should be spent doing things. Croatia is a relationship culture, meaning that spending time with people is more important than production. People regularly sit in coffee shops for hours over one drink just catching up with friends. They are not worried about what they have to do next or the fact that they are getting nothing "accomplished" during this time. Even in the work environment, I don't see people as stressed as in America. Even though people want to get work done and done well, people still realize the value of genuine conversation and relationships. I admire this part of the culture so much and am trying hard to calm down and focus more on the relationships in my own life than worry about how productive I am being or should be.

4) I try to be as polite in any situation. I am not saying that Croatians are rude, but they can be blunt and they don't believe in fake smiles. I was talking with one of my Croatian friends and she complained to me about the American fake smile, the one we give when we believe the other person is wrong, but we think it would be rude to say our opinion out loud. She hates this smile because you can see from a mile away that it is insincere. As an American, I have been trained to use this smile, believing that it is more important to be polite than sincere. Now, I see the problem with this. I am trying harder to not give this smile and more sincere. I don't know think I will ever get rid of my extreme politeness, but I believe that Croatians are right not to beat around the bush and say things the way they are.

5) I do not use a multitude of emoticons. I am not saying this is a bad thing, but I have noticed when I receive a message from a Croatian friends, there are smiley faces after almost every sentence. In the U.S. we might use one smiley face every once in a while, but not nearly to the extreme that my non-American friends do. I asked a Croatian friend about this and she answered that they just want their writing to be more pretty. I respect that. And I have tried to use more just so I do not appear rude.

These are just a few ways you can tell I am American. I am sure there are many more. To my Croatian friends, if you read this and think of other ways you can tell I'm American, please let me know! I find cultural differences extremely interesting. Tune in next time to read about the ways that I am turning European.

In Training

          This summer I began a new endeavor called running. I have never been a runner and honestly have hated running for most of my life. However, I really wanted to get into shape and be able to self-motivate myself to do something that was out of character for me. In the last eight months, I have tried to be self-disciplined and go out running every other day. This has not happened. I have had really good weeks, but then I will go a month without running at all. However, I made the decision that running is not going to be something I give up and I made it a goal to run a half-marathon sometime in the next year or so.
          Then, I found out on Monday that Osijek has a half marathon on March 30. Although people recommend training for 12 weeks leading up to a half marathon, I decided that I wanted to do this. And so, I am declaring to the world that I am officially in training! They say that the more people you tell, the more likely you are to actually do it. However, I did not want to make it blog public until finishing my first week. I have finished my first week of training and so far, so good! I am really going to do this!
          I have a somewhat strict training regiment that I will be trying to keep, as well as eating as healthy as I can. Like running, I have had problems keeping up with healthy eating habits. I will eat really healthy for a while, but then I will be tempted and binge eat. But not this time! I figure that if I can relate my eating to helping conquer this half-marathon, I will better be able to make healthy eating habits. Nine weeks is a long time and by openly-committing myself to a plan of training and eating well, I believe that not only will I run a half-marathon, but I can also make good habits that can continue long after the race is over. And I would love to have you keep me accountable! Ask me how I am doing! Send me healthy recipes to try! Or even better, join me with your own training goals. Maybe you don't want to run a half-marathon, but we can all exercise more regularly and commit ourselves to healthy foods.
          If you are interested in my training plan, I am trying to follow the following schedule with my long runs occurring on Saturdays. www.halhigdon.com/training/51131/Half-Marathon-Novice-1-Training-Program. Or, if you are in Osijek and want to join me in a run or a healthy meal, just let me know! 

Bridge on the Drina

As a way to stay connected to each other and share a love of books, my friend Lisle and I decided a few months ago to begin a book club. It is not actually much of a club, since it is just the two of us, but it has been a great way to regularly skype and keep up with each other. The first book that we read was The Bridge on the Drina by Ivo Andrić. It was first published in 1945 and Andrić won a Nobel Prize for his writing in 1961. The book tells the history of a bridge in the Bosnian town of Višegrad. Although the book is a novel, it is historically based and gives deep insight into a town and culture and how it develops over generations. The writing is remarkable and Lisle's and I's discussions were great. I learned so much more about the area of the world in which I am living and the strength of the people here.  So I want to share a bit of what we learned and discussed with you, my dear readers. Lisle actually helped me write part of this post and I owe many of these great thoughts and insights to her! I highly recommend to read the book for yourself. Although beware, it can be a tough read and there are some very gruesome parts. 

         I believe the true strength of the book and its main purpose is to chronicle history so that the people will not forget. The bridge was built in the 1570s through great violence, and it bore witness to many more atrocities throughout the centuries as it watched over the town. Andrić writes at the beginning of chapter 21, "Never can that be told, for those who saw and lived through it have lost the gifts of words and those who are dead can tell no tales. Those were things which are not told, but forgotten. For were they not forgotten, how could they ever be repeated?" The history of the bridge is not a pretty one... this area of the world has been through war after war. However, many of the stories were not told... people wanted to forget, but in forgetting, history repeated itself.  And long after Andrić died, violence continued. During the most recent war in the beginning of the 90's, the bridge in Višegrad was used as a place to torture and murder civilians. It was eerie to read the book, knowing that Andrić wrote the book long before the most recent war, but yet the cycle still continued.

          Equally important to the chronicling of conflict is the humanizing way in which Andric narrates. His stories feature many different people with diverse points of view: Turks and Serbs, Muslims and Christians, men and women, young and old, villagers and outsiders. He captures the hopes and fears of each, and emphasizes above all their humanity. Through their stories, he reminds reader of the deep emotions and tangible consequences of conflict on a human level.  In one scene, in the middle of a terrible flood, the Muslim and Christian leaders of the town come together and tell stories and sing songs until the danger has past, then separate again as they begin to rebuild the town. The unifying power of storytelling in this snapshot mirror’s Andric’s hope that human stories and the abilities to empathize with others would not allow people to forget.

          As I have met with several different peace workers and talked to Croatians, I have learned that forgetting the past is still occurring. Croatians learn very different things about the war than Serbians and neither side seems to have the whole truth. One of the many peace projects happening in this area is  truth-telling. Peacemakers are trying to get both sides to acknowledge what happened during the war in order that people will not forget, but will be able to learn from these mistakes. Only by knowing the truth and learning from it, can the cycle of violence will truly be stopped. But for now, enemies stay enemies. And the tensions that led to war are still there, right under the surface. 

          This is the reason I believe that The Bridge on the Drina is so important. We must acknowledge our histories and find the truth to be able learn and so that history is not repeated. This is why I am here. I am here to learn the truth behind conflict and thus learn practical ways we can spread truth and thus spread peace. And this needs to happen all over the world, not just here in Eastern Europe. The United States has also committed terrible atrocities. And in order to actually be a peaceful presence in the world, I believe the U.S. needs to recognize its wrongs. And as an American, I need to be a part of that.