Remembering

Today was a glorious day in France, but I'll tell you more about that later. While the day was wonderful, there was constantly the remembrance of a day three years ago penetrating my thoughts. And so for now, I am remembering.

Beni Swa L'Eternal - written by Kathryn on this day and the two days that followed, three years ago.

The wind howled, the snow fell, the earth was silent and cold and lifeless, yet it was waiting for something. It was waiting for a bulb that was lying underneath the piles of snow, a sign of new life. 

The girl gazed out at the frozen land and the gathering clouds. The black shapes were menacingly close and they loomed forebodingly above her. Snow was falling, first in stray flakes, but soon a torrent of silent white swept down out of the sky to consume the earth. Her mind was similarly consumed by the events of the day - events that on any other day would be mundanely normal. But not today. Not today.

Things that under normal circumstances would have been insignificant now were full of meaning. The trip to Meijer that day led to nothing but feelings of guilt and confusion. The unending rows of food surrounded her and threatened to drown her. With an outstretched hand, I can have anything in this story, any material thing I could ever want or need. 

How can one describe the eyes of a starving child? The deep pools of innocence intricately and permanently blended with suffering.

And then to walk out of Meijer, deep in thought, and to see a bright orange cone draped in flashy yellow caution tape, warning customers to avoid the crack in the sidewalk. The girl spoke, her voice containing a bitter note of irony, "All that for one little crack in the sidewalk. All that for ONE LITTLE CRACK IN THE SIDEWALK."  There is a place right now in this world, with much more than a mere crack in the sidewalk, and there is no caution tape, no neatly positioned cones, no protection from the hazards on every street at every hour.

She drove home from Meijer, but had to stop as a funeral procession solemnly passed by. Car after car in a grim parade, scores of people going somewhere out of the respect they had for one person who no longer lives in this world. Even as this occasion transpired, just a couple thousand miles south, there was another kind of funeral. Instead of dedicating a whole procession to honor one person, there was one person working to dig a mass grave for the procession of the countless dead. Victims of poverty, victims of an earthquake - violent and massive and charged full of death, victims of a fallen world.

The screaming wind surrounded the house and felt as if it were entering in and tearing at her heart. Her breath formed circles of condensation on the window. Thoughts echoed ceaselessly through her mind. Why? Why that country, of all countries? After everything they've endured, why, God why? Why not let it hit California where they have the infrastructure, the medical personnel and rescue teams, the money to rebuild and continue on with life, why? I don't understand.

Why is a big word.

The snowstorm continued, gathering momentum and strength, the color of white was blinding and omnipresent. It was eight o'clock in the evening, and if the snow continued like this, then there would be no school the following day, yet the girl was not overjoyed as she would have been any other day. Her life had suddenly been thrown into perspective, and snow days no longer mattered. All that mattered was life itself. 

I am trapped, though not under a pile of rubble. I am caught in a trap of not knowing. I am in the midst of a storm. She traced her finger on the rim of the windowsill as thoughts continued to echo incessantly. 

Suffering is a big word.

Hundreds of miles away in the utterly devastated and demolished streets of a city, a voice cried out. A voice filled with pain. A scream filled the air; some was trapped, caught in this storm of life. 

Hopelessness is a big word.

The girl was completely incapable of doing anything to help. Useless. Inadequate. All she could do was sit and run her finger along the rim of the frozen windowsill and watch as the storm gathered strength. There was barely even any strength inside to petition God. A question remained in her mind, unanswered. The people to her, so dear that they were dear as family itself - a big sister, a big brother, and a little brother - living their lives in Port-au-Prince the day the earth shook.

Yet draw nearer, listen closer, watch carefully! In the streets of the city, a new voice arose. A voice that was a herald of hope. Beni Swa L'Eternel. Beni Swa L'Eternel. Over and over the refrain was sung. It grew strength and spread like a flame throughout the streets. Beni Swa L'Eternal. Blessed be the Lord.

The snow was not stopping. The storm would not cease. Yet draw nearer, listen closer, watch carefully! The girl has suddenly remembered that under all of that snow, there is life. Under all of that snow, a bulb patiently waits. We cannot see it, we cannot hear it, there is no sign of its existence, but we know that it is there. Waiting. And in time, the snow will melt and the bulb will bloom - a full and beautiful flower for all the world to behold. And there is not just one bulb, but there are many. A promise of new life even in the midst of death.

Another figure appeared in the doorway. Although she was weary, form stooped and exhausted, there was joy buried deep inside her eyes. The girl was by her side instantly, "You have any news?" she queried impatiently. 

"Yes. Yes, they are safe," whispered the mother, and without further words, held out an email to her daughter. 

The pair of eyes scanned the email, taking in every word. They are safe. The girl's question had been answered. The why was still not answered. The hopelessness was still overwhelming. The suffering would never end in this world. But they are safe - cradled safely in the palm of the Lord during those sixty seconds when the earth shook. 

The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away, and still we say, Beni Swa L'Eternel. 

Death is a big word, but Life is the biggest word of all. 

**********************

This was one of my written reactions to the Haiti Earthquake that hit on Tuesday, January 12, 2010 at 4:53 PM. I couldn't possibly attempt to wrap my mind around all the suffering, all the loss, all the horror of that day, and still cannot. But it impacted me in a very real way, and I will never forget the moment when I saw the news that a massive earthquake had hit the country of Haiti, or the days that followed.

This past week, a friend of mine and fellow volunteer posted these pictures from the fall that I hadn't seen yet. They speak of life. Of joy. Of the good and the beautiful and the wonderful. What an honor I was given this past fall to relish this life, to participate in this joy, to witness these miracles. To stand with the people of God, and lift up hands with them and say Beni Swa L'Eternel! Beni Swa L'Eternel!

In all the death, in all the suffering, in all the hopelessness, in all the unanswered questions of why, Life is the biggest word of all.

An Excursion

My very first day of class was yesterday. I enjoyed it thoroughly! 

More on all that to come at a later date. For now, I shall attempt to provide you with a brief account of my excursion this afternoon during lunch break!

Lunch break in France is much longer than just a break - two hours in between the morning and the afternoon are given to you to do whatever you please whether it be stay at home and take a nap, or roam the city aimlessly, or go out to a little café to eat! This is quite a foreign idea to me after four years of approximately 25 minute long lunch breaks where all the students were confined to one cafeteria and carefully supervised by big men with guns.

Today, I determined to go on my very first excursion out into the beautiful city of Albertville all by my lonesome self! I needed to go to the bank, and also planned on making a stop at the grocery store to get a food item to bring to the youth group potluck tomorrow.

After morning class, I meticulously bundled up in the necessary items, and stepped out the door onto the very slushy streets of France. It has been snowing on and off for the past twenty-four hours or so, but it has also been raining on and off for the past twenty-four hours or so, and the sky was unfortunately occupied with the latter activity when I began my expedition. And when I ended my expedition too. And everything in between the beginning and the end of my expedition as well. Not a nice rain, either. Rain in the midst of winter never is. But it did naught to dampen the mood of adventure as I sloshed through ocean-sized, mud-filled, freezing cold puddles with sleet rain pounding my face.

I kept on repeating to myself directions in my head for how to get to the bank - "on the same street where we had lunch yesterday, on the right, a few blocks down, green sign, BNP...same street, on the right, a few blocks down, green sign, BNP..." Eyes, ears, and nose, must have been trembling (as indeed they have been all this past week!) with excitement at all the new sights, sounds, and smells came rushing in and out at a million miles an hour. Everything here feels somewhat antiquated, well-used, very established, from the colorful, shuttered-window, quintessential apartment buildings to the little cottages surrounded by snow-dusted pines and nestled in the crook of the mountains.

On and on I continued to march through the slush until at last I reached the BNP with the green sign on the same street as the café where we had lunch yesterday on the right side of the street! I had successfully honed in on the correct location. But I dared not be overly confident until I had conquered the ATM. A daunting thought to be sure. The only other time I had used an ATM machine had been in the states, with my mother overseeing, and I was making a deposit, not a withdrawal.

It ate my debit card. I followed the procedures correctly. It spit my debit card back out. And then it spit out a pile of euros and a receipt. I somewhat apprehensively reached inside this biting, spitting machine, and claimed my stack of bills. At not a moment to late, for seconds later, the biting spitting machine chomped back down right where my hand had been. Full of relief quickly morphing to massive feelings of accomplishment, I cordially thanked the machine (in French, of course), wished it a nice day, and triumphantly paraded back into the slush and cold rain!

The water by now had seeped all the way through my boots, and the lovely sensation of having no sensation whatsoever due to numbness of toes soon spread from just toes to whole feet. Undeterred by numb feet, I actually truly did smile condescendingly at the sign that read, "Office de Tourisme". Maybe for some Americans, but pas moi! And then I remembered that I had, in fact, chosen English as the language for the spitting-biting machine to speak, and not French. My accomplishment, therefore, was not a purely French accomplishment. It was a simple transaction any American adult easily could've accomplished on their own. I consoled myself by reasoning that I most likely could have very easily manuevered the machine en français, but it had surely been a wise decision to use English the first time rather than a language that likely could have led me to do something quite awful like have the biting-spitting machine bite and consume all my finances for the rest of forever.

Then I determined that to rectify this franglais excursion, I must complete a transaction with a live human being in seulement le français (only French). I have done this before, now multiple times, but of course that does naught to mitigate the delight of such interactions, and to accomplish another human interaction with a native French speaker was a fabulous excuse to make a delectable purchase at the bakery, conveniently located on the right side of the same street where we had lunch yesterday.

A baguette and a lemon tarte were successfully purchased. Here I am, in this beautiful country, living in the Alps, with a baguette and lemon tarte in tow. The triumphant euphoria could now return. But it did not. Because as I walked across the street from the bakery, I saw a lonely man, standing on the corner, in the muddy slush and sleety rain, looking down at the ground where his hat lay, hoping for some euros. I slowed down, said hello to him, and then continued to walk. I had been very close, very very close indeed to handing him my baguette, but I didn't. I kept on walking.

The thought process of Kathryn G. Wong went accordingly....I don't need a baguette, I don't need a baguette at all, I just bought it because I'm in France and there was a bakery with baguettes and I enjoy feeling incorrigible after successful French interactions. He does need a baguette. He looked so cold, so pathetically cold, and hungry too. He had a friendly face, a very friendly face. But maybe in France it's against the law to give homeless people food. I mean it probably is...they have so many laws in this country! And even if it's not, maybe people just don't do that here! I don't know anything about the homeless population in France, much less in Albertville. Maybe me giving him a baguette has horrible implications that will overall negatively impact all of French society, kind of like how rich, ignorant Americans giving t-shirts to Africa can be disaster and not help anyone or anything at all. Of course I'm not going to give him money, but maybe he knows that the baguette just across the street from where he's begging only cost me forty-five cents and he'll be mortally offended by that! What if a French person sees me, knows I'm an American, and is extraordinarily appalled that I would presume to try to take their societal problems into my own hands! Kathryn - you're absurd, just turn around and give him that baguette! But I'm almost home, almost back to the school! Okay, fine, sit down in your room, eat your lemon tarte, then turn around and go back to where he's standing and if he's still there, give him the baguette. Okay? Okay.

Which is exactly what I did. After consuming a very delectable tarte, I turned right around, went back to the same spot, and in French, asked him if he might like to have a baguette. He smiled, a big, radiant smile, and said quite a few nice sounding things in his language that I didn't entirely catch, but they sounded just grand! Then I said goodbye to him, and turned back for home, with feet thoroughly soaked, thoroughly numbed, and happy once more. I was so entertained by the sight of a terrified looking blonde girl clutching a steering wheel with a big yellow "Auto-Ecole" sign on the top of the car she was driving, that I didn't even notice the Centre, and walked right past! Eventually I figured out that I had gone too far, turned around, and came back to my room. And now it's time for class. Au revoir!

Les Jours deuxième, troisième, quatrième, et cinquième en France

Sunday

- The only time I've attended a service where the congregation collectively corrects their pastor on minute pronunciation problems during the sermon. (This pastor originally spoke Spanish, as I was duly informed by one of the attendees seconds after the service was over).

- A most beautiful afternoon and evening of exuberant, enthusiastic, delightful, intelligent, engaging, energetic, lovable McCropder children! They will be one of the best parts of this trip.

Monday
- Placement test! It was fun to get back into the classroom, but difficult because they kept on giving me papers until I didn't know much of anything anymore - not a fun feeling on a test!!! Also a little bit hard to try to make myself sound like I was speaking French français after Haiti.
- More and more McCropders getting home from their Christmas break travels
- Pastor Bob and Mrs. Lynn came in late that night. From my bedroom I could hear their voices drifting down the hallway.
- I think some more things happened this day, but it seems so very far away that I cannot recall much of anything else!

Tuesday
- Lots of information about classroom expectations, testing, breaks, scheduling, visas, finances, etc. etc.
- A delightful conversation with a Turkish woman in my class; I'm very much looking forward to getting to know her!
- About an hour or so in the nursery with the kiddos. It's a lovely nursery, and I enjoyed trying some French conversation with a girl about my age who doesn't know any English. She had to speak very slowly for me to understand her, but I think slowly I'm adjusting back into the language!
- All the singles in my building had a lovely meal together last night to celebrate one of the girl's twentieth birthdays. We had meatloaf - not a very European dish. One of the girl's mothers is visiting from the Netherlands, and she was utterly intrigued by this odd meat mixture that one bakes in the oven! Afterwards, we had a delicious chocolate cake with chocolate frosting followed by a movie night, though at least for this time, the movie was not in French...
- Heard from my mommy back at home that a second printing of Fierce Compassion may be in the near future!
- Still slightly jet lagged Kathryn, wide awake until about two o'clock in the morning, enjoyed a midnight snack with the similarly jet lagged Lynns who are staying in the same building.

Aujourd'hui
- Had a fantastic first piano lesson with the lovely Anna Fader. She did a great job, and it was wonderful to start teaching again after too long of a hiatus. I have no doubt that she will be an excellent student.
- Went to the post office with my new friend Mercy - an MK from Chad who is studying here at the Centre. I now have twenty-five stamps ready to be put on an envelope going to the US of A! My address here is: Kathryn Wong, 50 Chemin des Galibouds, 73200 Albertville, FRANCE
- After the post office, we spontaneously stopped by the bakery, and I got my first French pastry!!! Every minute was more delectable than the last! Unfortunately, neither of us had a functioning camera to document the occasion, but there will undoubtedly be other photographic opportunities involving pastries in the future.
- After the bakery, we stopped by a clothing and shoes store, because today in France, the two month sales begin! This happens every year, where nearly everything in the stores goes on sale for two months. Mercy got a very nice pair of boots for only sixteen euros!
- Upon arriving back home, I was introduced to Mercy's sister in-law who studies here and who is a Hillsdale grad!!! A surprise to meet a Hillsdale grad studying here, but I'm very thankful that she is here, and looking forward to talking more with her.

Now I'm back in my room, and after a bit of cleaning and reading, I will head across the parking lot to spend time with my most wonderful little McCropder friends that I become more and more enamored with each day!

À bientôt!
Kathryn

La France est le meilleur!

France is the best! I love it! It's beautiful! You walk down the streets, and all around, people are speaking in the most fantastic language of French!!! Which was not entirely unexpected, but still thrilling nonetheless.

After sleeping for a solid eleven hours and thirty minutes without stirring even once, I felt largely refreshed and rejuvenated for my first full day which thus far has included: a joyful realization upon awakening that I am here, in France, and that there are ginormous and breathtakingly beautiful mountains out my bedroom window, and that these mountains constitute a part of the Alps which really does make it all the more fantastic...indeed I've found it very necessary when I'm in my room to look out the window approximately every two minutes just to make sure the mountains are still out there; being the recipient of much gracious McCropder hospitality - breakfast with the Faders and lunch with the Cropseys; about an hour unpacking and settling into my adorable little dorm room that I am quite enamored with; and a grand time with new friends walking through town, hiking up part of a mountain to a castle and a chateau, scaling castle walls, and sliding very rapidly down (in squatting position) an old and extraordinarily slippery (due to a thick layer of algae) water duct that was coming out of said castle!

View from the château!

At the airport in Lyon yesterday!

Scaling up the castle wall!

Mountains, beautiful mountains, everywhere in sight

Trying (and ultimately failing) to scale the tree!

Albertville is beautiful!!!!!

Je suis ici!

I am here! In Albertville, France! Just about to drop dead from exhaustion, but first a quick update!

More to come later, but for now a few stories that I typed up while on the plane...

Here I sit, in a plane, 35,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean, heading East, towards Europe, charging full speed ahead at 651 miles per hour! This current reality has instilled within me extreme amounts of excitement, and try as I might, sleep will not come to me despite the lovely (though not particularly warm or fuzzy) blanket provided by Lufthansa. Which is somewhat unfortunate considering the fact that it is currently 3:30 AM at my final destination.

I am happily situated next to darling old German lady who doesn't speak a word of English. Or French. I tried both. Sadly, I am entirely lacking in my ability to speak anything German. Indeed, the only phrase I know is “delicious marshmallow” and though I haven't tried it on her yet, I have a funny feeling that it wouldn't get us far in conversation, and so after a few rotten attempts at communication, we have resolved to simply smile and nod affably at each other every ten minutes or so. It works. I pulled out my computer, and showed her my darling babies. She seemed delighted (who could not be delighted at the sight of those precious faces?) but it was impossible to explain to her where Haiti was. I kept on repeating “Haiti” in French and then in English and then in French again, but it was to no avail. I tried pointing to it on the flight tracker map, which was slightly more successful, although from her vehement nodding and repetition of the word “Miami” I'm afraid she might be under the impression that I spend my days with darling children in Miami. Oh well – that is close enough I suppose!

This is my first time ever going to Europe. It was always a dream of little girl Kathryn, and middle school Kathryn, and high school Kathryn, and now this Kathryn. For years, the three Wong women labored to collect a miserly amount of pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters in the “Europe Jar” - a jar containing the dreams of all three of them to sometime be able to travel to that distant land of great intrigue, centuries of rich history, a land of castles and dungeons, mountains and culture and legacy... Just a few weeks ago, mom uncovered the stash of coins that had somehow been lost in the move a year and a half ago. And now, now I am going to Europe. I'm actually going. For real.

When our plane flew over Boston and entered the great void of the Atlantic, it was a very strange feeling – one like that I had never exactly known before. As I watched the lights of Boston glittering further and further in the distance, quite suddenly and unexpectedly images of adventurers pursuing the thrill of the West entered my mind. I thought of the explorers who sailed across the Atlantic, paving the way to discover the unknown, and of the droves of peoples from nations far and wide who went the exact opposite direction that I was currently going in (at some 650 miles nonetheless!) I thought of the vision even once the shores of America were reached to continue to pursue the West, always West and West and West to the unknown and the undiscovered and the uncharted territories of the world.

But now I am going East and East and East. East to what? East into literally centuries of recorded histories – of wars, famines, great leaders, failed conquests, kings and queens, riches followed by losses, bravery and fear, peace and persecution, renowned poets and authors and songwriters, eras of lavish music and of art and of learning, thriving civilizations and human flourishing and human demise. East not into the unknown, undiscovered, and uncharted, but East into what feels like the profoundly known, forever discovered, always charted lands of Europe.

How fascinating is that? Extremely so. I was (and still am) utterly enthralled. To charge into the unknown is surely wonderful, but to charge into such a wealth of civilization and culture and history complete with the good, the true, and the noble, the wicked, the injustice, and the corrupted – oh it fascinates me beyond all belief!!!

I enjoyed my airplane meal of a small, slightly disgusting, iceberg lettuce salad with Italian dressing; steaming hot chicken with mashed potatoes, carrots, peas, and gravy; crackers and cheese; and a delectably dense dark brownie (too bad brownie doesn't start with a “d”. What a pity.) I enjoyed all the small packages everything was neatly presented in; I pretended I was playing house. An exciting imaginative excursion to be sure.

After browsing through their selection of movies, I concluded that none but perhaps a documentary on wildlife in Germany was really worth my time, and even that one didn't sound overly appealing, but I was overjoyed to see that among many musical selections, the entire soundtrack of Les Mis was available for listening to! Of course I listened to it, and I'm not sure what my kindly little seat partner thought of me as I was entirely engrossed in the music, accidentally singing rather loudly on occasion. Again I was enamored with the thought of voyaging to the East – here I am, listening to the powerful cries of the oppressed people of France in the 19^th century. But this time, I'm not just listening to great music from a great musical. I'm on my way to France itself. The place where the people sang the song of angry men! Let me assure you, it was one thrilled Kathryn who sat there in her seat, imagining that she herself was perishing heroically by the destroyed barricade. In retrospect, I am thankful that I refrained from proclaiming “delicious marshmallow!” to this German companion of mine; she is likely already convinced of my at least partial insanity.

Well I suppose that I ought to now try to rest for a bit as we continue to hurdle through the blackness above the expanses of the ocean. Talk to you soon!

Love,

Kathryn

Urbana Recap

I touched down in Detroit late yesterday afternoon, and tomorrow I'll be back at the airport – this time to depart for Lyon, France! Before I leave for France, though, here is a quick day to day recap of highlights from my most fantastic Urbana experience!

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Flight was smooth and uneventful. Our airplane was about 50% Urbana-bound folks and 50% really really old people. An interesting combination. Uncle James met us at the metro station when we got off in Downtown St. Louis. After getting checked-in and situated, we went on a little expedition to the Arch. The session was loud, and overwhelming, but the expositor – Calisto Odede, a pentecostal preacher from Nairobi – did a phenomenal job. I learned a lot from sitting under his teaching that night about what it means to rely on the power of the Holy Spirit.

Friday, December 28, 2012

“Wow. Well. Today was CRAAAAAAAZY!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously. Crazy. Kathryn's going on major information OVERLOAD but she's also enjoying living with a CONSTANTLY over-saturated sponge mind!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!” (excerpt from journal entry that day).

The morning Bible study (led by the one and only Sara Chang!) was a rich experience. We all learned a lot about Luke 5:17-26. The text came alive in a new and powerful and completely riveting way. I went to two seminars – Getting Ready to Serve: Top Ten Steps to Effective Cross-Cultural Service, and Spiritual Warfare & Missions. Both were led by wise, well-seasoned missionaries. Each sentence that came out of their mouths were like golden nuggets. Both seminars were packed full. Every minute of both seminars I felt like I was chomping down on some of the richest, juiciest steaks you could ever imagine.

And it just got better. The evening session was phenomenal. We got to hear Chai Ling and David Platt talk. Chai Ling was one of the student leaders of Tiananmen Square. After the military brutally crushed these uprisings, she was on the government's Most Wanted Criminals list. She escaped by hiding in a cargo boat for five days that took her across the ocean. She spoke beautifully, humbly, and powerfully as she recounted just a part of her incredible story. After years and years of suffering and searching, she was led to the Lord. She now campaigns against gendercide in China.

David Platt was also a speaker that night. I won't try to summarize the words he said. Just go watch it. Right now.

Chai Ling tells her story: https://urbana.org/urbana-12/videos

David Platt delivers a message on Luke 9: http://vimeo.com/56508165

Saturday, December 29, 2012

Coolest moment of the day: talking to Chai Ling about how much I admire her, and giving her a copy of my book!!!!! I walked away from that conversation floating in the clouds. That whole day was full of cool things, actually.

Another beautiful moment happened when I was wandering through the droves of the massive exhibit hall. This place is absurd. Over 250 organizations were represented. Each exhibitor would talk to me about what I was interested in doing, and let me know about opportunities I might have in the future with their organization. Except one man. This man, from Mozambique, blessed me in a beautiful way that day. We talked for a while – we didn't really talk business, we just talked life. We talked some in French, some in English. We talked about what God is doing in Africa, about what God is doing in America, about what God is doing throughout the whole world. Finally, he asked if he could pray for me. And pray he did. He prayed for me, for my future, for my walk with the Lord. He thanked God for me, and for the work that God has already done through me and for the work that God has yet to do through me. I walked away from his booth feeling refreshed, renewed, and full of peace.

Saturday night, we did a “Join-In”. Meaning we assembled 32,000 medical kits for caregivers taking care of people in the AIDS ravaged country of Swaziland. It wasn't at all about us and anything great we were doing. It was called a join-in because we were joining a whole big group of many different people from all over the world working to bring gospel healing to hurting people. These kits will eventually make their way into the hands of people who have dedicated their time to loving their people in the name of Jesus. We were all blessed to be a small part of something really big. After spreading two full days talking about change, and spreading the gospel, and the global mission of Christ, it was good to actually participate in something of great Kingdom worth.

Picture from the Join-In:

Sunday, December 30, 2012

There were a lot of powerful, beautiful things that transpired on this day. During the morning session, many people responded to God's invitation, and some 800 people dedicated/re-dedicated their lives to Christ. Ram Sridharan offered the invitation, preaching from the text about the prodigal son. God really used him. You can watch what he said here: https://urbana.org/urbana-12/videos

I attended an EPC World Outreach lunch. I enjoyed hearing about the work that people from the EPC are doing in different places all over the world. I also enjoyed the free, delicious food. I went to two seminars: Women in Incarnational Ministry and Cross Cultural Missions as a Crucible for Spiritual Transformation. Both were excellent. 

That night, there were many heartwrenching, challenging, inspiring stories from heroes of the faith. A common theme: all gave up their lives for Christ in very real ways. And none ever looked back and regretted it, even for a second. By giving up their lives for Christ, they gained their souls. 

At the end of the session, over 4,000 people had committed to serving Christ in long term missions!

Monday, December 31, 2012

This day is all a blur of exhaustion and more exhaustion but through it all, an even deeper sense of excitement and anticipation as the conference and the year came to a close. I enjoyed lunch with the Hillsdale students as well as with the Hillsdale Intervarsity staff worker, a Godly man I respect and admire greatly. 

That night, we celebrated the new year as a community of Christ lovers, welcoming 2013 while lifting up the name of Jesus in Hindi! An unforgettable experience...

Now I'm home. But not for long. My apologies for the unseemly large amount of weak adjectives and adverbs and verbs and sentence structures in general that have plagued this particular post. I've rushed my way through this post due to the large amounts of packing that loom formidably ahead of me. Please do take some time and check out a few of those videos - they are just great! 

À bientôt!

Kathryn

Au Revoir!

At last this middle section of the year is coming to a close, and with it the monotony of life in Saline! In retrospect, perhaps it was not nearly as monotonous as I made it out to be whilst living through it, but I am thankful to be taking off once again, this time to St. Louis to participate in the Urbana Student Missions Conference!

These past few months certainly have had many things for which to be thankful for...

My very first time ever voting...

A trip to Chicago avec mon frère.

Many many walks through the deadened Michigan woods

Time with this lovely lady and many other wonderful friends

A birthday...

A disguised Kathryn in the mall

Wednesday afternoons (and more time than that too!) spent with my best friend!

A great many excellent trips to the movie theatre (a rare happening in my life) to view the Hobbit, Lincoln, and Les Mis. All highly recommended and most fantastically done.

Visits from a number of super duper awesome friends

A trip to Grand Rapids

But these were the people who I spent the most time with these past few weeks...lots and lots of time. Top secret sibling meetings, sibling squabbles, sibling pranks, sibling pow-wows, etc.

And they are probably the people who I will miss the most upon departure.

Throughout it all, though, eight little beings who are very dear to me were constantly in my mind and on my heart. They were always there. Always. They will come with me to Urbana, and to France, and beyond.

The next time I write, it will likely be from across the seas in the Alps of France. And so for now, au revoir!