Hello Timisoara!!!!

We arrived in Timisoara at around 7pm local time on Friday the 18^th March. I'd love to say we were bursting with excitement or even crippled with fear because either of these extremes would have been easier to describe or explain than the general fuzziness and confusion we were actually experiencing. Arriving at the flat created similarly mixed emotions. The sight of five friendly welcoming faces was a genuine pleasure but the dirt and the dogs surrounding the place made me more than a little anxious.







As it happens we are very blessed to be living in a lovely new flat in a new block on the outskirts of town. Nonetheless the general state of disrepair in Romania can be a bit of a shock at first, especially when you are arriving at dusk on a cold, wet day and you've just spent a week in Switzerland (quite possibly the worlds most beautiful country and almost definitely the cleanest and tidiest).

Five days later and I am discovering that 'hello' is just as complicated an experience as 'goodbye'. It to, is full of contradictions. Excitement and hope at the prospect of new and positive experiences; fear, nervousness and insecurity about how we will fit in and cope with the new place or among new people. Since we arrived in Romania Lindon and I have experienced a roller-coaster of feelings and emotions; panic, excitement, fear, joy, regret, hope.

Luckily for us, the sun decided to make an appearance yesterday and as everyone knows, it's much easier to be positive in the sunshine. Regardless of the weather we are also blessed to have a great team of people around us who are helping and encouraging us and generally being friendly. Interestingly the other things that seem to be the most effective in helping us adjust to the 'new' in our lives is in fact the 'old'- the familiar. There is a mall near our home with shiny floors and food and clothes to buy, just like in England. The other night we even went to the cinema and ate popcorn and watched an American blockbuster- I particularly enjoyed the fact that while everyone else was having to read the Romanian subtitles, I could sit back, close my eyes if I so desired, and listen to the dialogue in my native tongue lol.

We have created for ourselves a little haven of familiarity in our flat with objects and pictures from home and these things are all helping our adjustment to the drastic changes we have experienced. We miss our families, we miss our friends, we miss our pets, we miss our view of the hills, we miss understanding more than 6 words of a conversation. We are adjusting to seeing dirt and poverty all around us, we are adjusting to stray dogs running all over the streets, we are adjusting to not being able to drink the tap water, and having to drive on the wrong side of the road. We are also adjusting to new people, a new culture and a new language. Saying hello to a new way of life, or a new job, or a new circumstance is not always easy. It often requires adjustments to our expectations, adjustments to our routine, adjustments to our character but if we can find the strength to be flexible there is potentially a whole world of new experiences out there for us to enjoy. We believe God has a plan for us to be here in Timisoara for a while, we don't know exactly what he has in store for us here but in focusing on his purposes we are finding the strength to be flexible.  

Sunshine, Balconies and Roaring Fires

I'm not sure what it is about balconies and verandahs that get me so excited but I just love them. I'd say it was the association with childhood sunny holidays in foreign hotels that caused this indiscriminate love but this seems unlikely due to the inherent problems of balconies in tents and the distinct lack of foreign travel (and consequently sunny holidays) that actually occurred in my childhood. Wherever it comes from my love of balconies is well known, at least to my husband Lindon. So much so that if they ever decided to make one of those 'don't tell the bride' type documentaries where the husband has to choose the family home without my input, Lindon would have hit the jackpot if he found a house with a balcony. It wouldn't matter how dilapidated the rest of the house was or how tiny the rooms, all he'd have to do would be to take me out on the balcony and I would be sold and everyone would marvel at his genius in making the right choice.

This morning I was lucky enough to be sitting on a balcony in Zurich, looking at the snowy Alps in the distance and feeling the warm sun on my skin. Three of my most favourite things, a balcony, a view and sunshine. There's something about these moments of pure pleasure and relaxation that restore and renew you in a way that nothing else can. The moments when you take a deep breath and everything is peaceful. The moments when you realise that there is more to life than all the chores and busyness of the day. The moments when you suddenly become aware that you are not the centre of the universe, in fact you are actually quite a small part of it, that the world continues to revolve even if you stop off for a moment. There are several situations that cultivate these feelings for me: sitting on a balcony (as i think i may have mentioned earlier :-)); looking out to sea; standing on top of a big hill; sitting in front of a roaring fire; lying on my back and looking at the stars; feeling the sun on my skin after a long miserable winter; a glorious sunset (and equally a sunrise though i admit to experiencing significantly less of these); looking around at a group of family and friends and realising there's no-where else I'd rather be. These are the moments when life makes sense.

These are also the moments when you start asking the right questions. Instead of asking 'what's for tea?' or 'what shall we do now?' we find room for the bigger questions- the important questions that somehow get crowded out and disregarded as we go about our everyday lives. It's in these moments, in the silence and the peace that we discover what's really important to us. It's in these moments that we become aware that we are more than just what we do and what we know. Our modern way of life has pushed God and spirituality out of our awareness. We scurry around, our busyness justifying our existence and giving us purpose but ultimately failing to fulfil our desire for significance and belonging. And then, every now and then, we stop. We see a fantastic view, we stop. We feel the warmth of the sun on our backs, we stop. We wrap our arms around someone we truly love, we stop. We stop, we take a deep breath  and we become aware of that simple truth that deep down we all know, and yet somehow we seem to be able to ignore most of the time, "There is more to life than what needs doing next, there is something bigger going on here."

These moments help us to embrace life. They encourage us to seek God, to seek purpose. They help us to re-assess our priorities and re-order our lives. They give us incentive to be a better person, a better wife, husband, parent. These moments are precious. Seek out the silence and the stillness and the deep breath moments.Walk up the big hill and take in the view. Sit outside on a clear night, wrapped in a blanket if you must, make time to sit still when the sun shows it's face. Ask the right questions and don't be too busy to seek out the answers.

Saying Goodbye

This week I have mostly been saying goodbye. Everywhere I go I am embarking on my last something. Yesterday, for example, was my last Sunday morning in bed, my last home-cooked Sunday dinner and my last service at church. Today is my last day at the cute little cafe where i work with some of my best friends and tomorrow is my last aerobics class at a school where I have been teaching fitness classes to the same lovely ladies for about two years now. Last week I suffered the trauma (and I am not being overly-dramatic here-it was horrific) of my last days, nights, walks, hugs and chases with my beautiful dog whom i have loved since he was born 5 years ago.

It's funny how all the everyday mundane things in life suddenly seem so precious when they are limited. Why on earth do i feel sad when i realise this is the last time i will clean the coffee machine at work? What is it about the fact that i no longer have to push the rubbish entirely into the bin to avoid coming down in the morning to butter packets and tinfoil meticulously licked clean and strewn all over the floor that makes me burst into tears. The very things that made me cross with the dog are the things that make me miss him. The things that have to be done all the time, the things that make life seem boring and mundane, these are the things that i suddenly feel so very sentimentally attached to now that i won't get to do them anymore.

I guess that's the positive side of saying goodbye. When you say goodbye you are forced into a recognition of  the good in your life. The people and things you see everyday, the journeys and jobs you begrudge, the clutter that messes up your house- these are the things you suddenly love when it's time to say goodbye. The other positive thing about saying goodbye is that it elicits such a great response from the people in your life. Suddenly everyone feels at liberty to say nice things to you. It's great :-) It's like you died and got to go to your own funeral (and thankfully lots of people came and everyone was nice- phew!)

We all have seasons in our life. We move home or job, we get married or have children, we sell the old and buy something new. Whenever we move onto a new season in our lives there's a few goodbyes to be said. No matter how much you wanted the bigger house with a garden it's kinda sad when you leave your old house for the last time. No matter how much you love your children you sometimes miss the way of life you said goodbye to when they came into your life (or so I'm gathering from the 'make the most of your freedom now' advice i keep getting from parents lol). But if you didn't say goodbye, if the fear of change or regret prevented you from moving into the next season of your life, you'd be stuck. You could be missing out on all sorts of new pleasures and joys and relationships if only you could pluck up the courage to take a risk.

Moving into a new season in your life is a risk. Saying goodbye to the old season is a risk. But as long as you are moving forward with your life and making good decisions then there is positive to be found, even in the goodbyes. This week I am wallowing in the familiarity and love of the present season, which is now drawing to a close. I am grateful to be forced into a recognition of the love and joy and beauty of the life i have been living. I am overwhelmed by the love and kindness that has been expressed by those living this current season with me. I am grateful for the positives of saying goodbye.

Next week i will mostly be saying hello (or Buna Ziwa). Next week i will be looking forward with excitement to the new season in my life and hopefully i'll get to experience all the positives of saying hello lol.