Y is for Young Life

Y is for Young Life

I talked previously about Young Life in my T is for Thursday Nights post but today will be a bit different. My parents used to laugh when people would ask my sister and I about what our favorite trip was and they would always rush to say...besides young life trips! Because so often, when asked that question sister and I would spit out Romania without too much thought. But it wasn't about the location- it was about the experience.

You see, in America, a lot of kids involved in Young Life have the opportunity to go to camp each year. They have them in several places and they are awesome (from what I hear). But, being overseas, us international kids didn't really have that option due to the logistics of getting us all there. So instead, we took service project trips. Young Life groups from international schools all over Europe would come together in one location through a ministry in that spot to support the local community in some way- while also still incorporating some "camp" elements at other points in the trip. So in 2005 and 2006 we headed to Romania. And in 2007 and 2008 we went to Bulgaria. 

Those trips were something else for a variety of reasons. First of all, us getting to Romania from England involved a flight to Hungary followed by a very long bus ride- about 10 hours if my memory serves me right, to our Romanian destination. Complete with a stop at the country boarder where are leaders were responsible for gathering up all of our passports, giving them to boarder patrol and managing all of the forms. I can't tell you why that was the best way to do things...but we made it. And I'm pretty sure we all agreed the crazy long travel day was so fun! There was also some rigamarole involved in getting to Bulgaria in the later years but nothing compared to the first 2. One thing that we always did was have a night in the "city" before leaving. So on the Romania trips that meant a night in Budapest, Hungary and in Bulgaria we had the evening to explore Sofia.

Aside from that one night, for the bulk of these trips, we stayed in some sort of hostel/lodge/campy situation. And it wasn't ever glamourous. But I don't remember that ever bothering anybody.  Each year there was a slightly different purpose to the trip. Year 1- there were a few jobs to tackle. Digging out a huge drainage ditch to prevent some flooding the town was struggling with and this worksite was known as "THE DITCH". It was a muddy mess and the most fun! 

That's my sister crushing it in the middle! 

But we also worked on some other projects around the town that year as well. The following year we worked on a playground, as well as a slightly smaller ditch. 

In Bulgaria things were a little different and both years we worked at orphanages- two separate areas though. We worked on building a playground one year- fixing their equipment to make it safer, repainting and adding in some new things. 

We worked hard.

Pretty sure this picture alarmed my parents when they saw it first. I'm know for my tendency to be accident prone.

And the other year we worked at a different orphanage but focused more on the inside. Repainting areas, fixing ceiling issues, maintenance around the building, fixing up the playground and spending time with the kids. That aspect of this trip made it extra special because we got to really interact with the people we were helping. It also made it particularly hard to leave that last day.

This trip was 13 years ago. But as soon as I saw this picture, I didn't have to think for a second to remember this sweet thing. Maya. 

When we weren't working we were doing Young Life things. There was some free time to spend with your leaders and friends. To meet new friends from the other schools. Fun fact- a friend that I met in Romania, who lived in Germany at the time, ended up living the floor below me my freshman year of college all the way in SC and we are still friends! Small world right?

There were also games. Lots of games. The silly kind, the gross kind, the messy kind, the funny kind. 

Who doesn't love a good game of dizzy bat? 

I don't remember what was in this jug...but I am positive that I won whatever competition was happening here. 

And who needs water balloons when you can have flour bomb fights!

And every night ended with a "talk" the part of club where they speak to us about the Lord. And usually on that last night of the trip their was a "Say So" time. A time set aside for kids who had found Jesus that week or that year, to stand up and Say So. Their leaders would stand with them and even thinking about it now gives me chills. 

I built some of the sweetest friendships on these trips. I grew in my faith. I learned about the world and was reminded I'm not in the center, that we need to think about others.

So even now, when asked what my favorite trip was I always leave with "well ASIDE from our Young Life trips..." because truthfully they're in a category all their own.  No, these trips weren't to the fanciest places or the most luxurious hotels. They weren't filled with sightseeing or other typical vacation activities. But they were impactful in a different way. In the way they shaped our faith, in the way they brought us together, in the way they fixed our eyes and our hearts on what is most important. 

X- Rays and Parents

X is for X- Ray

This post didn't really have a destination when I started it...I just kind of started writing and decided to see where it went. This isn't travel related and it's not an "adventure" per-se, But it is about something that shaped me. 

I was diagnosed with scoliosis in 2002 the year before we moved overseas. I was fitted with a brace and while I did try really hard to wear it the recommended amount, it was tough. You see there are two main types of back braces for scoliosis and my particular one was the kind that came up over my shoulders. 

When we moved in 2003, I had to get settled with a new orthopedist and my mom did a lot of research and found me the best doctor- truly I loved him. He was so kind and thoughtful, with a gentle nature and the tact needed when dealing with emotional teen girls. I can vividly remember the drive to go to my first appointment, telling my parents that the only thing I wanted to hear was that he doesn't use the same type of brace I'd been wearing. And my parents let me know that I shouldn't put all my eggs in that basket. Trying to keep my hopes reasonable so as not to be disappointed. 

At that appointment, I found out that my curve had increased quite a bit which was not great news and disappointed all of us. But I was also gifted the news that he wanted me to have a new brace made- to fit the new curve- and it would be a much slimmer, less noticeable brace that DID NOT come up over my shoulders. I could have hugged him. I'm not sure I can express how difficult it was to be at my public middle school in that previous year, with a back brace that stuck out through even my bulkiest turtleneck. It seemed like a small thing but for me it was huge. 

But back to "X is for X-Ray'. In those next few years where I wore my brace consistently- seriously, my parents will back me up. I wore that thing as much as I was supposed to (23 hours a day) with minimal "cheating". But part of that meant that I needed pretty regular x-rays to keep up with how my curve was changing while I was in the middle of my peak growing years. So every few months, my mom and I would trek into the city together. We'd ride the train to London, hop on the tube a few spots to head to the downtown hospital for my x-ray and visit with the doctor. The thing I always thing of is mom and I getting to the hospital on those days together. You came out from the underground in the middle of the BUSIEST intersection and we had to cross the road to get to the hospital. And without fail as we prepared to cross my mom would grab my hand/wrist/arm. I told her once that she didn't need to do that, I assured her I wouldn't run into traffic and could cross the street safely. She laughed and told me it was as much for her as it was for me. And so it continued but with less eye-rolling from me.

When I was a senior in high school I was able to stop wearing my brace that fall. My growing had stopped and my doctor felt like my curve would remain steady moving forward. And so this 5 1/2 year season came to a close and mom and I didn't have anymore trips across that street. 

I think back on those years and that season of my life pretty regularly. Occasionally I think about how hard it was. How uncomfortable the brace was, how it felt like it made everything more challenging, how despite having a supportive group of friends I hated having to be different in that respect. But as I thought through this post I thought of how hard it must have been for my parents too. To watch the hurt and pain of their daughter. To see the huge curve that seemed like it wouldn't stop growing.  But mostly I think about how grateful I am for being where I was. For the doctor I had. For the sweetest friends who never made it feel weird or embarrassing. And for parents who were patient and loving and there every minute. For a mom who would grab my hand to cross the street and hold that same hand when I was having a hard day. 

So x is for x-ray but it's also for eXcellent doctors and eXceptional friends and eXtraordinary parents. 

V is for...

 V is for...

I had most of my letters planned out at the start of the A-Z and letter v was one of the few I wasn't really sure which direction to go. So what do you do when you don't know what to write? Write a list. This is my very mixed up list of a variety of v words that didn't make it into any other posts. 

V is for visitors...coming from our old home to our new. I can't count the number of visitors we had when we were there but it was always a treat. It was a taste of home while also getting to show off and play tour guide for our new home. 

V is for vacation...trips to all over, giving us hundreds of memories to hold onto. Some of which you've seen through my A-Z...some that didn't fit in a letter but all memorable. 

V is for Vatican...a visit to a tiny country within a country. We got to tour the grounds, the inside and of course put cricks in our neck admiring the beauty of the Sistene Chapel. 

We visited the Vatican when we ventured to Rome. 

Also... is it just me or does it seem from the pictures I post, that my poor dad never goes on vacation with us? He does! He's just also our photographer usually :) 

And in Rome, we also saw the TreVi Fountain. (I know...a stretch)

I'm thinking I made a wish that this could keep being my life forever and ever...

V is for Stratford Upon AVon....ok this one is a stretch, but there is a v in there.  50 eighth graders exploring all things Shakespeare. Who got in trouble for making too much noise in the hotel. Also- who let us all stay in a hotel with such minimal supervision? Nuts! 

V is for valuable lessons learned. Too many to count each but they all shaped me into the person I am. Life lessons that taught me to accept others. To work with people from all over. To be welcoming and kind. To be flexible. To be resilient...oh boy that was a big one. To be confident and brave. To be adventurous.

V is for voice lessons...a favorite after-school activity. Complete with my first talent show performance. I'm pretty sure my parents were QUITE nervous for this, but I'm pleased to say I didn't embarrass myself- I remembered all the words, was on key and loved every moment. 

V is for volunteer...working with the middle school Wyldlife kids  as a junior leader. 

V is for "vamanos"...Let's Go! (to Spain). I participated in the Spanish trip when I was a junior and we went to Santiago de Compostela. I actually have not made a trip to a "major" city in Spain but loved every minute of this particular trip. 

I think they intentionally chose a smaller city...less English...with the purpose of the trip being full language immersion for the week. We stayed with host families, who were only allowed to speak Spanish to us and I stayed with one of my best friends. We had class in the mornings and then after lunch we explored the city, did some sight seeing and then were free for the night. There was a day trip to the beach, we went strolling through the mall and played futbol in the park. 

There was a fair in town that week so we spent the evenings riding bumper cars and getting snacks, hanging out in the park, being every bit the free teenagers we were. 

V is for volume. The VAST  amount of things I want to write and want to share about my time living overseas. And then as I try to get it all out, I can't quite put into words all that those years meant to me. 

But I sure do appreciate you guys coming along for the ride as I try. 

Thursday Nights

T is for Thursdays

When I was a freshman in high school, Young Life came to our school. And my sister and I both became very involved. For those unfamiliar with Young Life, it is a faith-based youth organization with the goal of ministering to middle and high school aged kids. It typically involves a weekly young life "club" and for our group, that particular event rotated between different homes each week. Club was full of fun- lots of games and competitions and silly/messy/ ridiculous activities usually capped off with some singing and then a short "talk" that focused on teaching about the love of Jesus. 

We also had a weekly bible study that while still fun, was less of the games and silliness and a little heavier on the worship and Jesus. And for 3 years that bible study was on Thursday nights, in my living room. I feel 100% positive that those Thursday nights heavily shaped my early Christian walk. I grew up in a family of believers and always had that foundation but it was in my early teens that my own walk with the Lord truly began to develop as I watched and listened to my leaders week after week. Remember my swim coach? Well when he wasn't pushing me to run up a huge flight of stairs or reach a personal best at my next swim meet- he was speaking truth into my life and planting seeds that would take root and grow. Each Thursday, just a group of teenagers, talking about life and the struggles and joys that come along with it and how we can hold both of those  feelings in a relationship with Jesus. 

Every Thursday, there were piles of shoes at the door in the laundry room. Kids crammed together on our wrap around couch or on the floor-ears and hearts open to a message that would weave itself into our very core and become very much apart of who we are. That would begin to shape the people we grew into. 

Thursdays were a day of rest as a teen. Something kids don't get nearly enough of. And I don't mean in the physical sense but in the emotional and spiritual sense. It was a day that no matter how crazy or busy it had been- for 2 hours we could all be still. And kids need that. And they need adults, besides just their parents (although they definitely need those too), speaking Truth into their lives, cheering them on and just walking alongside them through the good and the bad. And that's what Thursday was. That's what Young Life was. 

My faith is a huge part of who I am today, it informs how I live my life, how I do my job, how I love the people around me. And so much of that is thanks to a pile of shoes in the laundry room on Thursdays. 

Heading Back to High School

Continuing along today with the April A-Z Blog Challenge and my travel adventures. Our family moved to England when I was just shy of 13 and spent the next 6 years across the pond. This month, as part of an A-Z blogging challenge. I am reflecting on the time I spent overseas during my teens.

H is for Hillingdon

I always struggle to put words to the feelings associated with Hillingdon, so you'll have bear with my rambling heart and mind today. 

We'd been in England for about 24 hours. Tired, still emotionally drained from the driveway goodbyes the day before and let's be honest, more than a little skeptical about all of the new that was now supposed to be normal. Nevertheless, on day 2 of living across the pond, we headed to our new school. Yep. Day 2. 

Alright, alright- they didn't actually make us start school that day but we did go and visit the school, as sort of a meet and greet, tour the building etc. And my poor sister was made to take a language placement test for her french class. If you could have seen her face when she was told it would be 2 hours. We actually started school on day 3 of our overseas adventure. Hah! A lot better than day 2 right? Thanks mom and dad :) But that's how our family is. We jump in and go, even when we don't feel like it, even when we're jetlagged, even when it's scary we jump in and go. And there may have been nerves and anxious wonderings about new friends and new classes and starting 2 weeks after the regular school start- but when I think about Hillingdon, I don't remember any of that because it turned out to be the best school ever. 

In a small world, we actually had family friends that moved to this very school just a couple of weeks before us and they had a daughter my age. We had not seen each other sine we were little- probably about 7 years or so but on that first official day of school, as soon as I walked in, she grabbed my hand and introduced me to my new friends and everything felt right. 

The school was K-12 and while the primary and middle school portion was an addition that had been added on, the high school was an old stone manor home that had been converted. It was stunning. The back wall was covered in ivy and I always felt a bit like we went to school in a Disney castle. The school was composed of kids from about 50 different countries. And everyone in the school being so different from one another was one thing that I think allowed for such a relaxed and inclusive feeling at the school. There wasn't the typical clique atmosphere I think you find at a lot of high schools. We all agreed to be who we were and love each other for it. And I don't mean to imply everyone was perfect and just 100% the best all the time, teenagers will be teenagers, but at the end of the day, we were there for each other. It was also a particularly small school which allowed all of us to know everyone well. My class, which was the biggest graduating class they'd had was 60 kids. And truthfully it felt huge although I know how ridiculous that sounds. 

Being an international school meant there was a lot of turnover each year. Parents got new jobs, in new countries and roughly 1/3 of the school would leave each year, being replaced by new faces from more places. When you have so much turn over and change, and you're already talking about a group of kids who has dealt with change, it becomes so much easier to be welcoming. And it forces you to be resilient, to be flexible, to make new friends, to learn to say goodbye to people you love, to adjust and push on. 

I lived a lot of life in that school. More than I could put in one blog post. But I'll try. There was the 8th grade play of "Guys and Dolls"- I was Adelaide. 

There was the field trip to Stratford Upon Avon, where a big group of us got into trouble for being up to late and making too much noise at the hotel we stayed in. 

There was 8th grade graduation filled with tears as what seemed like half my class prepared to move away.

There were welcome back to school picnics, seeing the old faces and being sure the new ones felt welcome.

There was the English teacher that made me love classic literature. 

There were dances in the auditorium that always seemed to have more drama than dancing. 

There was curry and sausage rolls served in the cafeteria. 

There were AP and IB classes that pushed me and stretched me as a learner. 

There were P.E. classes with cricket and rugby and soccer  football. 

There were team building trips to HOAC each year. With water too cold, dragon boats too full of spiders and the sweetest friends. 

There were volleyball games and swim meets for me. There were soccer matches and basketball games spent cheering for my friends. 

There were winter formals with fancy dresses and curled hair. 

There were a lot of hellos and too many goodbyes. And a piece of my heart will always be at home at Hillingdon.