Picturesque?

After I moved here a girl that I knew from college once said to me, "I think you must be living every little girls dream. Move to Europe, buy a bike with a basket and ride along cobblestone streets."

Uh yeah. Right. She's obviously never put her newly purchased Cola Light in her basket and ridden home along the cobblestone streets. Or purchased a "bike" (something with two wheels that no one will steal) whose bell is so barely functional that riding along the cobblestone makes you feel like the theme song from the wicked witch of the west should be playing behind you.

The other side of that coin... Those are the least of the things that make me breathe deeply and think that I am being given a gift beyond what I deserve. My friends here who put on Creedence Clearwater Revival, share their fantastic wine and tell me about their teenage years listening to this music. The snow falling outside my window making everything lovely and bright, my encounter with another culture which has both made me love my own nation more (which was difficult during the last administration) and recognize how limited my scope is and was, given me the opportunity to travel places other than the third world, given me space and a place to change and fail and learn to get up again without the eyes of my little world on me...

My life here is so rich. It is not easy, but life by nature is not, I do not think that is a location or circumstantial statement! However, even today, sick in bed, cup of tea next to me, aching body, falling snow, and piercing headache - something in me is so content and thankful.

Yes. It's true, I am living a little girls dream... my own. I have always dreamed of being strong enough to make courageous decisions that didn't make any sense, but were based on my conviction. I dreamed of being the kind of person who would be strong enough to risk believing that I could make a difference in the world with my life, and dreamed even bigger that I would be audacious enough to believe that I could empower other people to believe they could do the same. What makes me thankful, is that in the midst of making my big strong decisions, and living my dreams... When everything started crumbling, especially me. I haven't given up. Making the decision was easy, living the dream has proven harder.

But just like this picture, sometimes I look up and see something that must look so overwhelmingly standard to someone here, and find it lovely... Picturesque if you will. In the midst of this crazy life occasionally I hand food to a homeless person and I know they know that I am doing it from love and not pity, I know they somehow know that I am not home here either... Occasionally I talk to someone about my experiences in the third world and I see something in them flicker with fire, and I know that if it's just one person who begins to carry the needy of the world, who might not have, it is worth it. And then there are the moments when I am with them... the poor, the needy and the suffering and I am not longer a worker, but I have gained their trust, I have proven my love and I know that in some way, somehow I have been allowed to offer comfort, and love. Which just may be more valuable than food or aid... And in those moments, it's true; I am a little girl, on a bike, with a basket on a cobblestone street with a bell that does not ring annoyingly as I ride and I am perfectly and incandescently happy. Far more than picturesque.