Day 39- Absolutely Amsterdam...

             This weekend I got to go on a fabulous trip with two friends of mine here, Jess and Sarah. On Friday, we nervously packed as many clothes as possible into large backpacks then headed to the train station to start our trip to Amsterdam. Who knew that you could fit three pairs of shoes including a pair of boots in a backpack along with toiletries, jeans and reading material. Ridiculous.

            After we got to the train station we took a quick train to Antwerp (about 45 minutes from Brussels) then boarded our bus heading to Amsterdam. You know how it is socially acceptable on public transportation to keep to yourself and behave normally? Well, I guess I was getting paid back for the all the times I talked to loud in public, because there were a group of 10 loud Italians that talked, partied, and danced incessantly on our bus. Because of course that’s what  you should do when your on a 3 hours evening bus ride to Amsterdam, you should drink booze and play music from your phones like your in a nightclub. I’m glad I have never been too loud or disturbed someone when they were trying to relax or sleep or watch a movie. It’s a good thing I am always quiet and have such a calm demeanor.

            Anyway, Me, Sarah and Jess got to Amsterdam, checked into our hostel and were told that we got “upgraded” to a private room for the night because no one had paid extra for it that night and we were the only girls in the place, so they felt like we needed it the most. Pictures of it are on my Facebook page…Let’s just say I was not too thrilled, but it looked very clean and basically what I expected out of a hostel. So soon after that we went out for dinner and ran into some guys at dinner who told us we should hang out with them later….We of course agreed and decided to meet them for dessert later. Well little did we know that these two boys were from Switzerland and were in Amsterdam with fifteen of their Swiss Med School Fraternity friends…..no big deal. We just hit the jackpot in Amsterdam, 2 hours after arriving. We hung out with them for a long time that night, had an absolute blast as we tried to convince them that we were actually Belgian and not from the states…and somehow one of them gave me their sweater because they saw I was pretty cold. At the end of the night, me and the girls headed home and as we walked into the hostel I realized I still had the stupid sweater on. We tried for the next two days to give it back to them…but somehow never ended up seeing them. The next day I checked the tag of the sweater, found out it was Brooks Brothers sweater that probably cost a couple hundred bucks. So basically Friday was a success. I may have been in Amsterdam, but I sure ended up loving Switzerland in the end.

            Saturday we woke up early, found out that we had to move rooms because someone actually paid for the private room, so we had to move into the regular dormitory. In Bailey’s mind the regular dormitory equated to a large cabin like room with a bunch of bunkbeds and girls in those bunkbeds. Well I was exactly on spot, minus the girls thing. Who knew that the regular dormitory meant that really gross boys and their stuff would be all over the room. Didn’t the people at the hostel know who I was? I am called Princess Bailey for a reason. I do not like dirty socks laying around, nor do I like seeing gross boys laying in their gross boxers, nor do I like not being able to speak the language of the other people in the room, nor do I like being one of only three girls in the entire room of 12 boys. As I walked into this room, I considered audibly praying. Instead, I was shouting things at God in my mind like “Lord….you better get me through this.” “ Jesus… if one of those boys farts I think I am going to cry.” “Sweet Lord in heaven…I totally understand what you are doing right now, you are allowing me to experience hardship in the form of gross sleeping arrangements so I never ever ever ever have to do it again, so I will deal with it right now”. 

            So those were some of the thoughts running through my head as I walked into the “regular dorm” of the hostel. Literally, I was one more dirty sock away from getting my butt out of their and using Daddy’s credit card at the Marriott I saw down the street. Sure my parents would have been thrilled with that one. Also, this was the FIRST (and possibly only) time in my ENTIRE life (childhood, teenage, and adult) that I have been in a room of boys and not wanted to flirt, talk to or kiss any of them. I remember walking out of that room and thinking, “my view of men has just been altered forever, I think they really are just pigs”. Needless to say, I was a little sad about my realization but know that most people in my life are thrilled that I have finally come to this understanding (cough Sheri Harris cough).

            After moving into our new incredible home, we left rather quickly and went to get in line with rest of Amsterdam for the Anne Frank House. The line wasn’t near as bad as I was expecting, but no matter how long it was…I knew I was going to see that freakin house. As a fourth grader, I read the Diary of Anne Frank probably three or four times. I really liked to read and to this day this book is one of my favorites. I still get teary eyed every time I look at her words; her vulnerability, fear and emotion basically jumps off the words of the page at you. This little girl changed the way I view life when I was little and going to her Secret Annex made me remember all my heartwarming feelings towards her. As I stepped into the house, I felt like I was literally stepping into an old familiar world that I couldn’t believe existed. Yes, the experience was very sad because of her situation, but so moving to me because I felt like I was getting to know an old friend that I had heard so much about. Walking through the bookcase of the office and up to the secret annex, I was in complete awe. I probably annoyed everyone around me because I kept turning to whoever was near me and saying, “This was her room…these were her pictures…this was her staircase….this was her attic….here’s where she had her first kiss…” Honestly, the entire trip to Amsterdam was worth it solely because of this trip to see the house of my friend Anne Frank. Her diary inspired me to write, inspired me to be real with my words, and taught me that despite the ethnicity, decade or situation, humans are truly all the same…with such a real desire to be loved and taken care of. Anne thanks for your writing, thanks for your courage and thanks for your ability to be so real in such a scary time… your dream of changing the world through your writing has fully come true.

            The rest of the day was really fun. Lots of seeing random shops, eating lots of cheese, walking through parks, climbing on signs (I mean I have to practice my climbing skills in case of “taken” situations), going to the Van Gogh Museum, and trying to not get hit by bikes. There are more bikes than people in Amsterdam. It makes me sick. If you do not know, I have a fear/hate of bikes. My family has this newfound fascination with them, but I still have little to no ability to ride them…and at Kanakuk Kamps where I have worked the past two summers there is a Mountain Biking class that I have to teach which consists of the 12 year old girls going faster and being able to peddle longer than me…basically at the end of the class, the girls are encouraging me to keep going. So seeing all of these bikes and hearing that my friends wanted to rent bikes one day…made me want to fake an injury, get a room at the Mariott and go back to Anne Frank’s house in the nerdy world where I belonged. Praise the Lord that when we got to the Bike rental place Saturday afternoon we found out that the bikes were super expensive. The Lord was truly looking down on me then, though he must have had his contacts out or something for the whole hostel thing.

            Saturday night I got to experience the red light district, which is the legal prostitution area of Amsterdam. I am not sure what I was expecting to see, but it definitely defied every thought I previously had about it. Me and my friends decided to see the red light district just because it’s one of those things you have to see because you are there. No, I do not think it is ok that it exists, and no I do not support any of the activities that go on there…but I took this trip in order to expand my worldview (and kind of actually have a worldview since I have not traveled outside the US before) and in order to expand my worldview…I have to see how other parts of the world live, and the red light district in Amsterdam is a huge example of something that definitely is outside my current worldview, so I wanted to see and experience it for myself. Me and my friends spent about 20 minutes in the area (all the time you really need). What I was shocked to see was a couple of things:

1.     the area is actually all in red lights, there are red lights hanging from the bridges, red lights in the windows that the girls are standing in, and red neon lights everywhere.

2.     The red light district is not necessarily a “bad” area of Amsterdam as it would be in other cities; there are stores, clothing shops and frite stands in between the different girls. It is like regular society is carrying on but there are just a bunch of almost naked women standing in the windows between every couple of shops trying to get guys to come to their room.

3.     The women would not look me in the eyes. I am not sure why I wanted to catch their glance, but I did. I wanted them to know I saw them, that I cared…part of me wanted to try and give some kind of warm, loving glance to them through the windows that they usually got looked at for completely different reasons. I don’t know why they didn’t look at me (or any of the other girls walking around), but I think its because they knew we weren’t looking for sexual reasons, we were their reality…like the real world looking in on them, giving them a taste of what really was out there.

4.     My heart broke for these girls in so many ways. I have developed a real “mama bear” attitude over the past couple of years because of different roles I have played with younger girls (whether at Kamp or with my small group at K-Life), so even though most of these girls were older than I was…all I wanted to do was cover them up with a big blanket and take them to go sit and talk to me while we both cried about the brokenness of the world and the effects of that brokenness. These girls were not that different from me…they were hurt, broken and doing something to survive and get past that brokenness. Does that make their actions ok? No. Does that make my sins/actions ok? No. Are we both covered by the love and grace of a savior who can restore, complete, cleanse any kind of scar, action, habit, and addiction? Absolutely.

I left that night and couldn’t wash what I saw off of me. And I kind of didn’t want to. I wanted to remember how the girls begged for the guys to come near them, how they flaunted themselves, how they avoided my eyes so desparately…. That night I realized that Amsterdam really isn’t the only place in the world that this kind of stuff goes on, it is just the only place that legalizes it. So after seeing this district did I hate Amsterdam and think it was absoultley such a sinful city? No. Did I realize that this kind of crap goes on everywhere and has since the beginning of time? Yes.  Does that show me even more the desperate need humanity has for something that is bigger, stronger and more complete than we can ever be? Yes.  

      Sunday was pretty uneventful…went on a beautiful canal tour and got to see one of my good friends, Marije (who studied in the US a couple years back and was our “host student” for a year, but only occasionally stayed with us) who is from a town 30 minutes from Amsterdam. She took a train that day just to see me and we got to spend some awesome time catching up and having dinner. Such an awesome time and so nice to see a friendly face who was actually from the area.

      So basically to sum up my weekend… if you go see Amsterdam, visit the Anne Frank House and the Red Light District…you will learn so much more about the incapablities of our race to truly satisfy ourselves and our desperate need for an all-powerful, all-knowing, loving, merciful savior who is my best friend and is named Jesus.

Love you guys.

Go Cards

Bailey Jo 

Day 30- That's My King!

Day  30-

I keep saying that my days and weeks are a whirlwind, but they are. So many events rushed together are keeping me on my toes and enjoying life to the fullest right now.  I will just try and give some highlights from the past week…

            Sunday was “Car Free Day” in Brussels which happens once a year. When someone casually mentioned it to me at work, I thought, “Well that’s nice a couple people may not drive then”. Well I was wrong, Belgians may not arrive on time anywhere, and they may not know how to drive their cars carefully, BUT they for sure DO care about their environmental issues. Whether it is with their “car free” days or their nineteen different trash bags used to sort pieces of trash, they are CONSTANTLY trying to one up the world with their recycling habits. So on Sunday not only was I informed that people would get a huge ticket if they drove on car-free Sunday, but no one would be allowed in and out of Brussels by car, unless accompanied by an emergency vehicle. Sunday was also the day that our Resident Director Sabine emailed us girls with a long list of things we actually cannot throw in the trash. I guess the trash guy picked our stuff up and gave us a fine for having certain things in the wrong colored bags. Can I just say that there are like ten different bags and all have different colors and all mean different things. And all the directions for what to put in them are in Dutch, or French or even German. Perfect because I speak all three of those languages. Alright Brussels, I love you dearly but sounds like you need some Xanax when it comes to environmental issues. It’s all going to be alright, I promise.

            Anyway, car free Sunday was really cool, lots of people riding bikes, skateboards and rollerblades in the middle of the street. And for some reason there was a HUGE festival going on downtown. Now when I say festival, let me tell you that I know for sure it was a festival and beyond that…I got nothing. But I smiled and took pictures of everything, sampled a bunch of food and jammed out to the music all afternoon. What were we celebrating? Well by the end of it I just told myself that Brussels was celebrating me coming to Europe. That had to be it.  One thing that I have learned here is that Europeans sure do love ANY reason to take a few hours off of work, have a drink and socialize with their friends. While I have been here, Brussels has had probably three or four different festivals that all celebrate different things…the one common thread, a lot of people doing a lot of drinking. They sure do love their beer (I for sure do not, but they drink it like fish).  So the festival was great, we walked for miles, ended up in the grand place somehow and celebrated whatever we were celebrating to the max.

            In other news, I have decided that my work (or internship) is one of my favorite parts of my life here. It is so cool how God really does work things out for the best…I got turned down for one of the other internships that I thought I really wanted, and I wasn’t even supposed to interview for this one, but His ways are much higher than mine. Not only do I love the location (just outside EU headquarters) but I work with some awesome people. I work under one of the partners but in the office there are several “young professionals” (three boys and one girl) that are all from Holland, but speak English and probably 12 other langauges fluently. They always invite me to lunch or to get dinner with them after work; it has been so cool getting to know these people….they ask so many questions about American life and I ask so many questions about their lives..it’s been an awesome learning experience.

            Monday at work there was a huge protest going on outside just outside our building…at one point my boss actually got up from her desk with her own camera to take a picture of the group protesting below us…so needless to say, I got my camera out as well. We found out that some Ethiopians were protesting about the taxes their government were putting on them. My boss said that different nationalities travel from all over Europe to gather in front of the EU headquarters to protest either what the EU is doing or to protest in order to get some kind of awareness or  aid from the rest of the world. I was standing by the window in one of conference rooms taking pictures like a tourist when one of the “young professionals” I am friends with, Matisse, walks by and nonchalantly says, “Guess the oppressed minority of the day”. I remember passing by the large protest earlier that week (with people from Mauritania protesting about slavery) and thinking that it was some huge world issue that me and my stupid Americaness just hadn’t been informed of yet.  Later at lunch Matisse told me, “You know all of us really didn’t know Mauritania had a problem with slavery, or Tanzania had an issue with their corrupt economy, or Morocco had an issue with their taxes, or  we may not even have known that Mauritania existed…but hey, there yea go”. So if you didn’t know already…Ethiopia wasn’t too happy on Monday about their taxes from their government. Someone should really get on that.

            After work, I got to have such a neat God moment. I went out to dinner with my three dutch friends, Esther, Matisse and Rudolph. Esther is an intern like me but Rudolph and Matisse actually have jobs at ICODA and described their positions to me as “we make somewhat unimportant people feel like they are the coolest person on the planet so they will vote the way we want them to vote”.  So cool and fun..and hilarious. Anyway, we had a great time…I actually asked them questions about whether or not they remembered where they were when September 11 happened…they all looked at me with dumb founded expressions and said “of course we do!” It was so cool to here their point of view about 9/11 and what they think it has done to our country. So cool to be able to have those kind of conversations with people…makes my nerdiness come out in full force.  

            After a while, the conversation got interesting. One of the boys, Matisse, point blank asked me if I was religious. At that moment, my heart kind of stopped and I thought ok here we go…im jumping into the lions den, I’m sitting with three other people from Holland, most likely they are all going to be atheists and heavily criticize whatever I’m about to say. Knowing that, it was weird to say I was kind of excited to stand up for my faith in a daunting situation. It was one of the easiest things I have ever done to answer his question and say, “Yes, I am a follow of Christ but I don’t feel like I am religious”. In that moment, I could feel my heart smile so big…like I was finally openly proclaiming something my heart clings to so desperately every single day. I definitely do not hide the fact that I believe in Jesus, but I do not go around shouting it from the rooftops, I always pray that my actions can do that before my words have to, but when asked point blank about my faith…I was overjoyed to answer and to talk a  little bit about my savior.

            What happened next still shocks me. After hearing that I was a Christian, Matisse said, “well what kind..Catholic, Protestant, Anglican, Lutheran”….As he named off differnet denominations.. I shook my head and tried to explain that I really don’t like to put a label on it, my faith is faith and I really don’t follow a religion…I just believe in the sovereignty of my Father. As soon as those words came out of my mouth, Rudolph who was sitting next to me stuck out his hand to give me a high five with a huge grin on his face and  said, “ME TOO”.  I think all of you should have seen the look on my face when he said that…I kind of stopped him and explained again what I was talking about so he didn’t get confused…I. Believed. That. Christ. Was. Lord. And. Died. For. My. Sins. He smiled again and said…Me too Bailey, me too. For the next thirty minutes I got to hear awesome stories about Rudolph’s walk with God and what his faith means to him….and how he honestly tries to live his life by WWJD. Rudolph didn’t just say he was a Christian or a Catholic who went to church once in a while, he talked about the depth of his faith and how it means so much to him.  I think my mouth dropped open at the beginning of that converstion and stayed that way for a good 45 minutes. Here I was, a young Christian girl excitedly and nervously sitting in an Irish Pub/Restaurant in the middle of a foregin city with three people she immediately assumed would look down upon her for having a belief in Christ. I guess God is bigger than steroypes huh? In that moment, He showed me that His love really does cross oceans and reach deeply into the hearts of people over here. It was so neat to hear Rudolph talk about the SAME Jesus I know, not just a divine being, not just a God who didn’t care about his people…but MY GOD, my loving, all sufficient, grace giving, incomprehensible, huge, magnificent, God.   There is a link that my youth pastor once showed me of a pastor giving a message about Our King and as I talked to Rudolph all I could think about was this video…I kept thinking You know my King? That’s my King. Too! If you haven’t seen it, watch it. What’s really neat is that the preacher does this entire little speech without any notes.... talk about the anointing of God. Here’s the link I used to find it:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yzqTFNfeDnE.

            Anyway as Rudolph and I finished our conversation, we turned to Esther and Matisse who had been babbling in Dutch and came to find out that Esther was a Chrsitian as well, but Matisse was a devout aethist. Pretty cool that God put three Chrsitains from different walks of life altogether just to sit down and have an indepth conversation about theology in some small restaurant one rainy night in Brussels. He really does have it all worked out doesn’t He? He really is going to take care of us. Whether we like what his plan is at the current moment or not, I am so glad his ways are higher than mine. Because according to my ways, I would have never had that internship and never been able to meet these people I know call friends.

            While I was talking to Rudolph I got such a slight glimpse of what it was like to be a Christian in the early church days, back when they would draw fish in the sand to represent that they were a follower of Christ. As I told my friends that I believed in Christ, I could see myself bending down and carefully drawing my fish in the sand….and when Rudolph held out his hand for a high-five, It was as if he was tracing over my fish. My heart leapt as I felt him tug at the most core part of my being.

            Remember today that we serve  A BIG GOD. He may not make sense to you right now, and His plans may not either….but how cool is it that we get to serve a God so big, so strong, so majestic, that we don’t fully understand Him and His ways? I know I definitely wouldn’t want to serve a divine being that could fit into my finite view of Him…so Praise the Lord that our God is so much greater than that…He is so infinite, with such an infinite capability to love us, and show us His grace, mercy and provision for us when we least expect it…like when your surrounded by three foreigners in a small pub one dreary night in Brussels.

           

Love you all.

Bails 

Day 22- Go USA, read a lot of French, be a European, and Move!

 This past week has been a whirlwind; I feel like each day here is a new adventure. I’ll try and do my best to update you on the past week without boring each of you to tears…so here are some of the highlights.

            Tuesday September 6, my whole program got to go to the USA vs. Belgium soccer game at the Brussels soccer arena. It was so cool! Probably about 20,000 people there, not near what the stadium could actually hold, but still really exciting. Me and all my friends decked out in as much red, white and blue was we could find and we ended up doing face paint as well. Getting to the game made me feel like I was going to a Cards/Cubs game in downtown Chicago. The rivalry was really fun and, it was funny to see the Belgians get so excited about their team. We walked into the stadium, found the one section of USA fans…and felt at home. For the first time in a couple of weeks, I heard a lot of American English from other study abroad students, American toursits, and other USA natives that happened to be in Belgium. One of the funniest events of the night happened just after we got to the stadium when a couple of Belgians (who were somehow cheering for the US) approached me and some of my friends in line for frites and said…”ARE YOU REAL AMERICANS??...LIKE FROM THE REAL STATES!!???” I about screamed…We all squealed, YES!! For the first time here, I felt so flattered to be a REAL American, from the REAL states. And then the Belgian guy had to ruin it for himself…his next comment was, “Oh, so we should kiss now!” Good job buddy…

            We shooed him away pretty fast after that. The game was a lot of fun; I have never sung the Star Spangled Banner so loudly and proudly in my entire life. When it got to “land of the free and home of the brave”, most of us were tearing up. You never know how proud you are of your country until your in a completely new environment and culture. I will always be so proud of my country and the freedom and values it was based on.

            As the game went on, I realized why I and everyone else in America really isn’t into soccer…it was stupid boring. Why watch guys run up and down a field when in America you can watch men pounding the flesh out of each other? The Belgians scored a goal, so we got a lot of cheers shouted at us after that point. At that point, the American cheerleader came out me and I helped the USA section respond with…”Who cares, your the size of Maryland clap clap clapclapclap!” And…”But we have the superbowl clap clap clapclapclap!” All in all, we had a great time; it was definitely a once in a lifetime opportunity to be in a foreign country and be able to support your home nation at a large sporting event.

            On Wednesday I received news that I was picked for an internship that I had applied for earlier this summer. I interviewed with this company and was picked to work for them for the remainder of the semester. I will be working with ICODA European Affairs which is a lobbying firm in the heart of the Parliamentary district here in Brussels. ICODA gets hired by companies throughout Europe to act kind of as the “middle man” between them and the EU. ICODA hears what their clients want to happen in the European Union, and then they try and push for that agenda with different people in the EU’s parliament, commission and council. They also do a lot of work with clarifying legislation that has been passed so their clients can understand what does and doesn’t apply to each of them specifically.

            My building is in a roundabout that is the home to the EU’s Parliament, COmission and several other lobbying firms that work with the EU. ICODA is located on the sixth floor of one of these beautiful buildings; so basically outside my window each morning I can see the headquarters of the European Union staring right back at me. Pretty freakin cool. I will be the assistant to Ms. Lieve Lowet, who is one of the partners of that firm. She has her law degree and Ph.D in Political Affairs. She is one of the toughest, hardworking women I have ever met, but she has also been really kind to me and is doing her best to teach me all about the EU. I am really excited about working with her. It is really funny to hear her on the phone with clients because she will switch in and out of three or four differnet languages while talking to the same person!

            I have worked two days for her so far…each of them 9AM-6PM. On my first day I spent the majority of it looking at a piece of legislation that was passed two years ago and also looking at some of the changes that had been made to that same piece of legislation earlier this summer. I basically had to merge the two documents and make sure that the whole piece of legislation had all the new changes so Lieve can email it as a whole to her clients. I did this deciphering for the piece of legislation in English for my first 1.5 hours of work, and then she asked me to do the same thing in French.

            Let me just point out that my French skills….are quite minimum, and I basically laughed at her when she asked me to do this. After seeing that my laughter wasn’t that funny to her…I smiled and buckled down for about 3 hours to try and find the miniscule changes to a 200 page document in a language that I don’t speak fluently, or well for that matter. No big deal. I did my best…who knows how good it is going to be, someday in the future people may be very wrongly interpreting a piece of legislation in French. I guess the world goes on….

            I’ve met four really nice young professionals that work at ICODA and they have invited me to eat lunch with them each day I’ve worked. They are all from the Netherlands and have been really kind to me. I really enjoy getting out of my bubble and talking to them, trying to learn more about their culture and lives. It was funny because yesterday when I joined them for lunch, they were all speaking Dutch, and as soon as I sat down, all three of them switched to English immediately, like it was no big deal. I was flattered that they did that for me, but also just in awe of their intelligence. I really would love to someday do that with French, I just know it will take a lot of work.

            Saturday my whole group went to Gent, Belgium which is about 45 minutes away from Brussels. But it could have been a lifetime away for how different it was. This small city had a CASTLE. A REAL LIVE CASTLE. Everyone of us girls was so excited to “take European pictures” in the castle. It’s funny, I love visiting all these neat places, but all of us girls agree that we love getting our picture taken by all the pretty places just as much J The castle was awesome, complete with a guillotine and torture room. It’s funny, no where did we get to see the “king’s quarters” or something fun like that…but every freakin place we go to…oh here’s the dungeon, here’s the torture devices. Perfect, just what I wanted to see.

            Gent was beautiful and so much fun…we went on a canal ride, got to see some beautiful cathedral’s and enjoyed native “gent” snacks which included a specific type of ham, and mustard. The day we went to gent I also ate some frites, which I have decided have become a part of my diet here in Belgium. If I don’t eat my daily dose of frites with mayo..my body starts craving them constantly.  I could be addicted to heroine, but seems like its just frites for now which I’m fine with.

            Lastly, this past week me, Maddie, Chrissy and Ellen (two of the girls I first met on the plane to Brussels)  have all moved into a huge apartment together. When I say huge…I mean its literally a house, with an upstairs and and a downstairs, a large kitchen, dining room, living room, bathroom, two bedrooms, a sun room and a garden. The entire city of Brussels may come over later. Our first apartments were just temporary until our leases started on September 1. Which meant that we didn’t actually get to move in until September 12 because that’s what the Belgians do. Moving in was a pain, because one of my suitcases broke after the first trip from STL to Brussels, so I had to tape that suitcase together in order to get it over here. But now, everything is unpacked and slowly getting moved in…including two couches, a TV and DVD player, a dining room table, chairs, armoires, etc. I feel like I just won the lottery or something. 

            God has been so good to me here, and I know that a lot of it is because of all of Your prayers back home…so whoever you are, thank you…a million times over. I am learning so much, but also being reminded that I am in daily need of a savior, because I still do (no matter the county) make countless mistakes. I have been having some awesome conversations with some of my roommates here, who have told me more and more about their walk with God…so cool to have that common bond! I know that He is here with me, but I also know that I see my need for Him more and more here. I pray that as you read this you realize your need for Him more today. I know at home it is so easy for me to get complacent with my walk, to not challenge it or push it. I pray that today you see the lostness of our world and how big our God is…to create such a crazy world, but love each of us so individually.  So indicvidullay that no matter where we are at he can still speak to us in that still small voice I have come to cherish. I pray that I know him more each day because I know I can’t do this whole thing on my own.

Love you all,

Praying for you…

Bailey Jo

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Found out that these are actually US Diplomats that work at the embassy!!

pictures from Gent :) We tried to act like Europeans all day...

  

Day 21- Oh Praise the One..

Can't believe I have been here for three weeks! Feels like years, and just days...all at the time.
Here is a post I wrote after going to church last Sunday with the Hoggard's :)
An update is coming tomorrow or the day after about my internship, USA vs. Belgium Soccer game, weekend in Gent and moving into the new apartment!
Enjoy!

The more I go through this life, the more I realize I don’t understand much. But the more I understand I need, want and am desperate to serve something that is SO much bigger than the finite, miniscule life I live.  I know I make mistakes, turn to things that don’t end up satisfying me, and behave basically like a dumb sheep at a lot of points in my life.  I am thoroughly convinced that I am on a constant search to know an infinite God that is so much bigger than my finite perception of Him. A God who is bigger, stronger and more powerful than my mind can conceive. A God who knows, who loves, who doesn’t fit into the box Christianity, or religion for that matter puts, Him in.  I don’t know about you…but each and every day I know that I am on a search to satisfy some kind of longing in my heart that I cannot fully understand. No matter what I do, it still remains. Despite the boys that have captivated my heart, classes that challenge me, friends that love me, and family that means the world to me….I still have this longing to reach, understand, grasp, do, know, something more. And each time I learn a little bit more about my savior, there is a peace in my heart that reaches so close to the core of my being that I just know that that is why I am here. To know more about the one who created, died and rose again for me. The one who loves me beyond my mistakes, my bad habits.

This Sunday I got a different glimpse of this infinite God that I serve.  I went to church with Ruth Anne Hoggard and two of my girl friends from my program. It was so nice that she drove out of her way to pick us up…and so nice that we got to sit in a car for a change. It gave my aching, blistered feet a nice break. We showed up at church after getting quite lost about 10 minutes late. Thankfully, just like everything else in Belgium, church didn’t start on time. Ruth Anne said that the Americans and Brits show up on time, the Belgians show up 15 minutes late, the Asians 20 minutes late, and the Africans…about the time the sermon starts. 

As soon as we walked in, we were greeted warmly by a sea of faces from different countries. Africans, Asians, Europeans, Americans…young, old, in between…all worshipping the same, infinite God. We began to worship, and as much as I would like to say that I was completely focused on the music, my eyes kept traveling to all the different colors, faces and bodies around me…and all I wanted to was shout..”YOU KNOW HIM TOO???!!!” He’s the same here!? And in Africa? And in India? And in Brussels?

I have always been told that our God does not change and that His word brings truth throughout the world, but never have I ever felt this in such a real way as I did on Sunday. That same Bible that I have grown up reading…these people from EVERYWHERE have grown up reading. The message is the same everywhere and resonates with all people despite age, past, ethnicity or social status. All of these people at this church have heard about God’s grace, power, redemption and salvation just like I have. They have gone through hard times, and good times just like me and have seen the provision of a Holy, infinite, and soverign God. And somehow through the soverign nature of our God, it brought each of them to this church to worship this great God with me.

To say that I was moved is an understatement. I have been so blessed in my life to worship God in many different areas. : in Texas, St. Louis,  my room at home, my youth pastor’s house, my dorm room, a K-Life building, a soccer field in Lampe, MO, an outdoor church at K-West, the streets of Brussels, and now, an incredible international church with voices from many different tongues singing praises to our God and King! I have said that I feel almost at home in Brussels because of my heritage…well if there is one more thing that makes me feel at home, it is finding a place to worship my awesome God. If there is one thing that remains true it is the fact that I know I need the love of my savior, and no matter the time or place…I will fight to find a place to get to know Him better. I am not perfect, but I have definitely come to a place in my life where I know I can go on no further without my faith and the Savior that is connected to that faith. I will make mistakes, but I know his arms are open wide and his love has no end. For I am convinced that neither death nor life neither angels nor demons neither the present nor the future, nor any powers [nor any distance or ethnicity], neither height nor depth or anything else in all creation will be able to separate me from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow. For I am humbled by His power, goodness and love today and I pray you are too.

LOVE

Bails

Day 16- What's missing from the orientation book...

 10 things they don’t tell you before coming to Europe….

1.     When locals say a barbeque starts at six, don’t show up til 7:30…it is otherwise rude

2.     When they tell you that you will move into an apartment on September 1, expect to actually move in around September 15…internet, furniture and multiple sets of keys are not guaranteed

3.     If it rains outside and your windows are closed tightly , and the apartment below you somehow manages to get water in it from a source you do not know…you still will be blamed for it and will receive an angry note underneath the door in broken English/French.

4.     If a teacher casually walks in 20 minutes late to a class, and begins class without apologizing for his lateness…don’t worry that's normal. But if you show up to class 20 minutes late, don’t bother coming.

5.     All of the paper in Europe is slightly bigger than 8.5X11, which is normal in US. It is not that much bigger…just enough to drive you absolutely nuts when you try to put the paper into a folder.

6.     When you try squeeze through the door of the metro station with your friend and her metro pass because you can’t find your metro pass at the moment…Don’t. The doors will shut on you and cause you and your large bag to get stuck in the door, therefore creating a loud beeping noise and drawing everyone’s attention to you.

7.     The Fanta here is not orange…though they claim it is orange. But the coloring really is….light yellow.

8.     If you expect to feel safe when crossing the street at an appropriate time, Don’t. Cars inch towards you no matter if its there turn to go or not.

9.     When your class is told to go to the European Parliament for a class period, you are just supposed to know where to go and how to get there, and what room to go to when you get there. By the way, the Brussels Parliament is different than the European Parliament.

10. If you want to look someone to greet them kindly or indirectly say “Hi my name is Bailey and I am so excited about Europe”…don’t. The eye contact means far more than that. 

Just some funny thoughts me and my roommate Maddie came up with while thinking about our adventures thus far! 

Love you all,

Bailey Jo

Day 15- Feels like were in a movie

This weekend was absolutely wonderful. We, as an entire ISA  group got to go to two places in the eastern ( I think) part of Belgium. The more I travel with this group of people the more I am thankful to be apart of such a great program! Being around great Americans who want to know more about the world really makes all the difference  with the transition to coming here. These people have become good friends of mine and we have already shared tons of laughs together. 

We headed out of Brussels around 830 in the morning and slept all the way to Hans-sur-Lesse, a small town housing some of the most beautiful caves in all of Europe. The first sight I saw after leaving Brussels was a beautiful green pasture, with rolling hills in the background. You sleep for an hour…and all of a sudden you feel like you are in the Sound of Music. Pretty freaking magical.

We visited the caves, walked around the small town. And all wanted to buy houses by the time we left. A large part of me wanted to settle down, buy a goat and just stay in that serenity of a town forever. We had an amazing lunch of frites, frites and frites and then left for Dinant, Belgium. Side note…Belgium’s fries are so good because they fry them twice, but more importantly because they eat them with mayonnaise. TRY IT. It’s changed my life. My diet lately has consisted of crepes, waffles, frites and grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. For someone who has grown up her life, asking if she can have another roll at dinner instead of dessert…this place is quite incredible. 

Once again I fell asleep on the way to Dinant ( thanks to college sleeping habits, going to sleep on command is a habit) and this time woke up to a cute little town with a huge river running right through it. I felt as if  I was in another quiet, little town…and then I looked up: Above me was a large military fortress (or citadel) that was built in 1040 and used in basically every European war since then. We climbed the 403 stairs to the top, took gorgeous pictures and had an awesome tour by a man who didn’t speak any English. We did a lot of guessing in French which was actually quite fun…and we also found out that Flemish/Dutch sounds a lot like broken, weird English. It was neat to walk around a building that was nearly one thousand years old, when in America I am blown away by a building fifty years old. What did those walls know? What kind of death, desperation, violence, passion, perserverance had they seen? Those thoughts ran through my mind all day. What I would give to have a glimpse into what those walls had seen….I feel there is so much we take for granted in our everyday lives and do not look back at our history not only as a country, but as a human race. We need to learn from each other, listen to each other, and know each other’s stories in such a deeper level. As my dad always says….”Bailey, you have two ears and one mouth…just use them proportionally”.

After that, we went on a boat ride and ate ice cream cones by the river. I felt as if I was seven years old again, but still felt as if I was in a movie. We headed home, exhausted and content.

Sadly, when I got home I realized that the pain I was feeling in my feet all day was a big deal. Blisters that I had popped the night before had gotten worse from the day of walking. So I stayed in for the night and limped around the apartment. You never realize how important your feet are until every step hurts. I walk about 3 miles a day here, so my feet have taken a beating. Poor guys…they have no idea what’s going on. They are used to walking about a minute to class…and watching a lot of TV. Not hiking a mile two and from school multiple times a day. Hopefully they will get used to it just like my head and heart have. Ephesians 6:8-10 talks about putting on the armor of God…which includes your feet. These past few days I really have understood the importance of protecting my feet. It says that the armor we put on is “the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace”. I love that. Our gospel is peace! The redemptive story of Christ’s life and his mission on Earth gives us peace! This Earth is not our home! Our lives here are not the “end” all, and our mistakes are nothing in the eyes of our King who sacrificed everything from us. I must remember daily to put on this piece of my armor so I will be ready for whatever life hands me because of Christ’s actions for me. For I know that I can face and walk tomorrow because He lives!

Love you all.

Bails 

Day 13- America, my country... Brussels, my city

I never thought studying abroad could make me feel at home. You expect to go away and want to come back immediately. Yes, there are still things that I miss about America. Taco Bell being one of them, as well as Walmart, Goldfish and Dr.Pepper… but there is a sense of “homeyness” I did not expect to encounter here, all thanks to my wonderful family.

            On Wednesday evening, I met up with Terry and Ruth Anne Hoggard who are missionaries from my home church who have been in Brussels for 15 years. I grew up knowing them on an acquaintance level, but here they have accepted me as family, and I am so grateful for that. The Hoggard’s picked me up on Wednesday and took me for a tour of some of the things I had not seen in Brussels, including my mom’s old high school…ISB (international school of Brussels). For those of you who do not know, my mom and her family moved to Brussels for five years during her teenage years. My grandfather’s job transferred over to Brussels, so he picked up his wife and four screaming daughters and took them on a trip of a lifetime.

            As soon as I got into the car, I began to realize how much I did not know about these people…they used to pastor the church that my family went to while they lived in Brussels. And they also know great family friends of mine, the Testas, who have been like my Italian grandparents growing up. It is so crazy how the mention of a few names can melt my heart and immediately make me feel at home in this crazy city. The rest of the night was wonderful as they told me hilarious stories about people I have known my whole life and their funny adventures in Brussels. I heard classic stories about my pseudo-grandmother,  Aunt Debbie Testa, calling for her husband “Sam” in her usual, loving way…and stories about Uncle Sam hiding from her calls J I remember hearing that story, which I have seen acted out in front of me my whole life, and feeling immediately comforted. Some things really never change, no matter what language, country or community.

            We visited ISB, pictures below. And  countless stories ran through my mind I have heard over the years of my mom meeting certain boys, skipping classes, going on fun field trips, watching basketball games, and breaking those boys hearts. I felt like she was right with me.  Then we went to the church that my family used to go to and the church the Hoggard’s used to pastor, Christian Centre. Mr. Terry still had a key so we got to walk around. The church is so neat; all the services are in English but they have a translation booth (pictured below) that translators sit in during the services to make sure all the groups can understand what is being said. Also in the church, is a painting with a lot of the older members in it, including one of my “aunts” Donna Testa, and probably a whole bunch of people my aunts and mom knew.  How cool is it that you can go to a foreign country, not know the language…then drive down the road some and have such rich history of your own family right in front of you! I was introduced by the Hoggards to some people that were still at the church that night and I was introduced as Gordon Peterman’s granddaughter, a man who was one of the first leaders of Christian Center of Brussels. As tears filled my eyes, I held out my hand to shake theirs and  could not have been more honored with the introduction. My grandfather, who I never knew on an intimate level, (died when I was three) was unforgettable to those who met him. From the stories I know, he possessed so much of the passion, joy and craziness for life that I want embody, but he also knew how to love his Savior and lead his family in that lifestyle. Those of you who know me pretty well know that I laugh loud, talk loud, and speak with my whole heart no matter if it is truly appropriate or not…I have been told before that those parts of me come from my grandpa Gordon Peterman…and I am proud to posses those qualities…they make life a lot of fun J Because of Grandpa Peterman and his legacy,  not only do I have an incredible mother who is my best friend, but I have a heritage in this city that is becoming more and more like home to me everyday. So  thank you PawPaw. If  you were here today, I would call you and laugh with you about trying to order in French…because I hear your “Texan-French accent” was pretty legendary. I would also thank you for your love for your savior and your passion for serving him…because of your diligence I am enjoying a trip of a lifetime.

Love you all,

Bailey Jo 

           

           

ISB!

highschool bulding I think

picture in Christian Center

translation booths in Chrstian Center

yummy crepe the hoggards treated me too! So thankful for them!