The post that I've been meaning to write for quite some time.

It's been awhile, and I apologize for the absence. There is no excuse other than that I have been slightly lazy. But now, with fingers anxious to type and a mind ready to spit out words, where do I begin?

As many have heard by now, we are expecting again. And as many of you know, I wrote a post describing the experience of and the emotions that occurred immediately following our miscarriage, but that was just the half of it. With intent to come back to this topic in the future, I only wish to say for right now, it is an experience that continues to grow me, teach me, cause me pain, and cause me to reflect. But I remain healed and hopeful, and needless to say, we are thrilled about this second chance.

Beyond this, for the past couple of months, life has been quite simply life. We have moved forward, learned some more Portuguese, and made new friends. We have been living life with our friends and through our faith. With a family we met through a local church, we have started an English group that meets once a week in their home, during which we eat, play games, and help those who come practice and learn English. I started a crafts group at a local coffee shop that also meets once a week. Never have I ever been on Pinterest so much.

A couple weeks ago, we officially started using heat again in our apartment, and as we move from room to room, we close doors behind us in order to keep warm those rooms that we've deemed worthy of heat. And since the time change, we still get freaked out when the sun sets at 5, and 7 o'clock then consequently feels like 10 o'clock.

We've stayed busy but have also managed to get some Lego DC and Marvel gaming in at times. Hodge continues to hang out with guys by shooting them during Airsoft games, my stick-shift driving skills have improved significantly, and Leeloo has enjoyed having an empty beach to run on again.

At Halloween, we taught some friends how to carve pumpkins. For Thanksgiving, we celebrated with food and games with our little Northern Portugal team. And to prepare for Christmas, we put up a tree and have turned up the Christmas songs and hymns.

We are anticipating the arrival of Hodge's parents next week, and then after that, the arrival of my sister in the first days of January. We are a little more than excited to see family and show them around our new life. We're also looking forward to indulging ourselves in some American goodies.

We are grateful for those who keep up with us and love on us from afar (and if you are reading this, that includes you).

Whew. Now that that is done, time to start the next post...

Psalm 107: The God behind the Storm

I love the ocean, the vastness of its depth against the vastness of the sky above it. With the two next to each other in my peripheral, it is hard not to think about just how small I am and just how big God is. And with oceans, it seems the opportunities for literature comparisons and metaphors are simply endless.

Those who go down to the sea in ships, who do business on great waters. 

They have seen the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep. 

For He spoke and raised up a stormy wind, which lifted up the waves of the sea.

They rose up to the heavens, they went down to the depths; Their soul melted away in their misery.

They reeled and staggered like a drunken man and were at their wits' end.

Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and He brought them out of their distresses.

He caused the storm to be still, so that the waves of the sea were hushed.

Then they were glad because they were quiet, so He guided them to their desired haven.

Let them give thanks to the Lord for His lovingkindness, and for His wonders to the sons of men!

Psalm 107:25-31

What I find most interesting in this passage is the fact that God is the one who created the storm. He is the one who lifted the waves high above their heads causing them to lose their wits. As I meditate on these words, I grow in my understanding that God allows the storms and, sometimes, creates them. Because while I fully believe in the weight of sin and its effects on this world and the fact that we face spiritual storms and battles more than anything (Ephesians 6:12), I also believe that God is in control. 

So, why would He put us in the midst of these storms? As an opportunity to cry out to God and experience His deliverance. As soon as the people on the ship cried out to God, He saved them: attending to their distresses, subduing the storm, bringing them to safety. 

Storms are opportunities to grow in faith and draw nearer to God. After all, He calls for our reliance, our trust to be in Him alone (Proverbs 3:5-6), and what sweeter thing than to constantly be crying out to our maker. My hope is that not a day goes by that I don't cry out to the Lord: for His help, guidance, comfort, peace, wisdom, strength, grace, mercy, and love. Those things which He will not withhold if I would just simply cry out. Those things I know I need in order to face each day and do what I have been called to do. What's more, while I believe that we are saved eternally from our sin when we accept and believe the truth of Jesus and consequently follow Him, I also believe that God continues to save us throughout our lives from trials and from ourselves. This might mean He calms the storm, but it could also mean that He empowers us by His Spirit to bear the storm. The point is, He is in control of the storm, and He knows the purpose for which the storm exists. It could be to teach something, or it could be to simply draw us away from ourselves and to Him.

Living in a foreign country has brought me to many moments of utter desperation for God, where I am at my wit's end crying out His name. It truly has become a day by day of wavering emotions and learning experiences. While we do have many good days and we truly have made some great friends, we also carry the constant weight of trying to communicate in another language whilst breaking cultural barriers, missing and missing out on the lives of family and friends back home, and fleeting moments of nostalgia for certain aspects of the way our life used to be. We have encountered some painful trials, and not only that, but when we encounter the smaller trials of everyday life, it can often be as if we look at them through a telescope. The things that seem so small appear much larger because of the difficulties aforementioned. 

But I have said it before, and I will say it now. I don't blame God. Everything I have is from Him, and everything I go through is an opportunity to cry out to Him, trust Him more, experience His deliverance, and ultimately, grow closer to Him. He knows what I need, and He knows just how high to make the waves. When all is said and done, I love my job. I am here to tell people about this God. Not a hateful god who makes us suffer and doesn't care about our pain, but the God who has been here, suffered with us, and lovingly brings us to and through trials in this sinful world. Because, Christ follower or not, we all go through trials, and we all suffer, but we don't have to do it alone and without purpose.

Beyond everything, I love that God continues to remind me that I am weak and He is strong. It sounds crazy, but I thank Him for the storms. Like the Psalmist exclaims, I give thanks to the Lord for His lovingkindness and for His wonders to the sons of men. I give thanks to the Lord for controlling and helping me through the storms which I encounter.

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing 

that the testing of your faith produces endurance.

James 1: 2-3

Portugal? Isn't that somewhere in South America?

Before moving to Portugal, we will admit, we knew very little about the country. But it seemed most of the people we spoke with knew even less. It was unbelievable the number of people who, when discovered that we were moving, asked:

"Ooo... Do you know Spanish?"  

Maybe I (Tiffany) had the advantage since I studied Portuguese for 2 years, but come on.

Another favorite of ours was:

"O wow... are you going to get all your shots?"

I think because many people are unfamiliar with or had never heard of Portugal before, they picture it as a third world country in the middle-of-nowhere South America. To be fair, there are A LOT of countries on this planet, but to set the record straight:  No, we didn't need any shots. Yes, we do have running water and electricity. And no, we don't know Spanish.

Because Portugal is a smaller country and rarely talked about in world news, it is often misplaced on the globe. And then when it is found on its correct continent, it is often misrepresented because of its proximity to Spain. But Portugal is very different from Spain, not only in language but in its way of life. So, this is our attempt at informing some about this beautiful country and unique culture. 

We have lived in Portugal for 7 months, and while that does not make us experts,

it does make us observers.

So, these are our top ten observations about life in Portugal (northern Portugal, that is).

1. Catholicism

Given its history, Catholicism runs wide and deep in Portugal. Evidences of the Catholic faith can be found around every corner. Numerous churches, statues, crosses, and other religious images decorate the entire country. It seems most Portuguese are Catholic, and this is mostly because their parents are/were Catholic. However, many will admit that they do no actively practice this faith or go to church except for christenings, weddings, and funerals. And despite the fact that many do not like the church and strongly disagree with their scandals, they still hold onto the title of "Catholic".
What's more, a good number of Portugal's national holidays are Catholic holidays. When we have asked our friends why the day is celebrated, the response generally ends at, "It's tradition." While the original meaning of the holiday may be overlooked, they will still gather as friends and families and enjoy it anyway.

Corpo de Deus: celebrated with carpets
of flowers and a procession through the city
carrying the body of Jesus.

Gathered for Sao Joao, a festival held for Saint John
the Baptist. Each town has a patron saint that they
celebrate once a year with dancing, fireworks, food,
and more. It is the biggest festival of the year.

2. Coffee

Life seems to run on coffee (i.e. espresso), and it is no exaggeration to say that there is a coffee shop on every corner (these cafes will also sell various pastries, snacks, and meals). If people are in a hurry, often times, they will stand at the counter to drink their small coffee and head on their way. Other than that, coffee is an event that might last up to 3 or 4 hours. What's more, coffee mugs seem to be foreign and laughable concepts here. I was once asked what I was holding and shortly after I replied, "A coffee mug," my friend snorted and gave an incredulous look.
Hodge likes to joke, "You can run a car on Portuguese coffee." Their coffee is strong, and they are proud of it. We have been told more than once (accompanied with a look of superiority) that Spanish coffee is two sweet and weak compared to Portuguese coffee. And don't get them started on America's water-coffee.

3. Driving

Portuguese are statistically proven to be bad drivers. While they are not the worst in the world, they don't match up well against their neighboring countries in western Europe. One of our friends even told us to inform our friends back home about how fast they drive. And they do drive fast. However, on the contrary, there are also people how drive incredibly slow. On the highway, it is often this vast difference in speeds that can cause problems. A driver may going 30 mph when someone else flies by doing 100 mph.
And when it comes to parking, anything is fair game. Cars can be found parked on highways, behind other cars, and sometimes right in the middle of the road on smaller streets. Need to run into a store? Need a caffeine kick? Just pull over, throw your flashers on, and go do your business. But drivers should pay attention because if the person they are parked behind needs out, the drivers are supposed to go move their car. However, this is not always the case. Hodge was once blocked in for 45 minutes waiting on a car behind him to move.
Other fun or not so fun facts: They drive on the right side of the road in the left side of the car (like the States). Automatics are a rarity. Roundabouts are an extremely common construction. And pedestrians have the right-of-way at crosswalks except when traffic lights direct.

Parked.

Parked.

Of course, mopeds are another
popular choice for transport.

4. Late Nights

You might have heard about the "late night life" in Europe. Well, this definitely holds true in Portugal. One night, as we were heading back home around 11 at night, we noticed families walking around town with their very young children as we thought aloud to each other, "Aren't they supposed to be in bed at this hour?" What's more, dinner is generally eaten around 9 or 10. On the weekends, when it is more likely for Portuguese to eat out, many will make it an all night event by going to the cafe afterwards to have an adult beverage. While there is a percentage of people going to the discos, most will just chill and make conversation at cafes (which really start to fill up around 1 in the morning).
On another note: One aspect that I really like about Portuguese life is that when people get together, they really get together. They can spend several hours just sitting around a table, eating and talking into the night.

8:30 pm: Arrived at the restaurant.
9:30 pm: Food was served.
10:30 pm: Finished dinner with a coffee and conversation.
1:00 am: Arrived at a cafe for more conversation.
3:00 am: Arrived back home.

5. Shopping

Malls are a frequent occurrence, especially in the bigger cities. There can be two malls within 5 miles of one another, each equally large and impressive. Going to the mall seems to be a favorite pastime for many Portuguese. Not only are they full with a variety of stores, they also hold the large Walmart-like grocery stores as well as movie theaters. Each has a food court offering a large variety of dining options including a few American fast food places like McDonalds, Burger King, Subway, and KFC.
What's more, the Portuguese are very fashionable dressers. Many women wear high heels no matter the occasion and sweatpants are virtually nonexistent.

5. English

English is literally everywhere. Walk around town, English can be seen in company names, on advertisements, and in graffiti. Turn on the TV, a large majority of networks play shows and movies from the US which are accompanied with Portuguese subtitles. Turn on the radio, it is flooded with English music (recently, radio stations were told that they had to play something like at least 50% of Portuguese music because they were playing too much English music). Go to the movie theater, movies are played in the original English format with Portuguese subtitles. Go to a restaurant, your server is bound to speak or understand basic English. In fact, many young people know at least some English if not practically fluently. Many others can understand some English given the saturation of it within their culture. With nearly a 70-80% bilingual culture, this country is a paradise for American tourists. But for those of us trying to learn Portuguese, it has proven a hindrance at times.

6. Homes

What do you image in your mind when you hear the words "European home"? Do you see clothes hanging on a line? Or maybe brick walls with hardwood floors? As you imagine, allow me to help direct your image by providing a few details about Portuguese homes.
Homes are generally equipped with fireplaces, gas stoves, bidets (which our Portuguese friends have found bizarre that we don't use) and hardwood floors lined with rugs. While central heating is increasing in certain areas, central air conditioning is much less common. So, in winter time, we snuggle up with extra blankets and electric heaters, and in the summer, we rely on fans and breezes. Most clothes undergo nature's dryer, but for those who can afford it and desire it, drying machines are an option. In the cities and smaller towns, most people live in apartments. Houses with small yards and more privacy are reserved for the rich and for those who live in the countryside.
A friend recently told me that in many aspects Portugal has been slow to enter the modernized world. That being said, while there will always be very old homes with less commodities, we have seen extreme opposites of apartments and homes that seem out of place because of their very modern and contemporary appearances.

.

7. The Beach

Because we live on the coast, it is easy to overgeneralize and say that Portuguese love the beach. So I won't say that, but I will say that for those who are close enough or come to vacation, going to the beach is a favorite activity. In the winter time, beaches lay vacant, but as soon as warmer weather creeps in, beaches have constant company. Little cafes/bars are built for the season to cater to those who spend all day on the sand and in the water.
Tanning could be considered a sport. As soon as the sun makes an appearance after the rainy season, people are laying out. Even though it might be 60*F outside, they are committed to the tan. And on windy days, they just put up protectors to keep the chill off their skin (remember, we are in the north which means cooler temperatures and colder water).

8. Food/Grocery shopping

When I first arrived, one of the most frustrating and time consuming activities was grocery shopping. I spent hours with a dictionary roaming the aisles and then backtracking trying to translate and find what I wanted. Beyond that, since being here, my food-buying habits have changed drastically due to the culture. Instead of spending 45 minutes at the local Kroger doing all my grocery shopping for two weeks, I have adjusted to visiting the butcher, the frutaria (with fresh fruits and vegetables), and the small grocery store every couple of days if not more frequently. I freeze less food, buy less in bulk, and eat more fresh product.
Frutarias and butchers are almost as frequent as cafes. It amazed us at first as we wondered how each one stayed in business. But because many people, especially older folks, don't go far from home to get everything they need, they visit the same stores most of their lives, keeping the shops in business.
Other fun or not so fun facts: While cold milk can be found, it is most often bought at room temperature in a carton. Eggs are also found and kept at room temperature. The tap water is safe to drink in cities and smaller towns, but many people still buy bottled water. And like most European countries, wine is a regular companion with meals and often costs less than water.

9. Special foods: Bacalhau and Francesinha

Bacalhau (codfish) is probably the most popular and/or traditional dinner choice in Portugal, which is curious because it is imported from Norway. In fact, Portugal is known to be the biggest importer of this fish. But imported or not, Portuguese love Bacalhau. Every grocery stores carries this fish which is dried and salted, and it is easy to find given its potent smell.
The saying goes, "There are 1,001 ways to cook Bacalhau."
The francesinha is a very popular dish in northern Portugal (more specifically, Porto). For many, it is a ritual to eat at least once a week and/or with friends before or after a futbol match. It consists of beef, ham, and sausage between two slices of bread, covered with cheese and a unique sauce, surrounded by fries. Often times, it is also topped with a fried egg.

10. The 3 F's

The dictator Salazar used to say that Portugal is "Fado, Fatima, and Futbol."

Fado is the distinct Portuguese musical style which is characterized by mournful tones and lyrics. It is often said to be the soul music of Portugal, and it also represents a word very important to the Portuguese, "Saudade." This word is unique and has no direct translation into the English language, but it refers to a deep emotional state of nostalgic and a longing for the way things once were with the repressed knowledge that it will never return. "Saudade" is a state of mind that has come to encapsulate Portuguese culture and is often referred to as the "Portuguese way of life".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARS7Zi-Zpkw

Fatima seems to be the most notable and recognizable aspect of the Catholic faith. Located in central Portugal is a shrine dedicated to "Our Lady of Fatima" where it is said the Virgin Mary appeared to 3 pheasant children. Every year, thousands of people make a pilgrimage to this shrine to worship, give money, and plead for help. Beyond that, while many people won't step inside a church, there are a large percentage that have statues of Fatima in their home (which is who they pray to).

And of course, the love of futbol is most evident in Portuguese life. The rivalries run deep and the competition is never-ending. At one point during a conversation about futbol, a friend said, "I can be friends with someone who supports a different futbol club". That statement alone epitomizes the deep-rooted passion for futbol, as if most people cannot be friends with someone who cheers for a different club. Beyond that, we were told a story in which a family was on their way to a futbol match when fans from the home team saw the 3-year-old daughter sporting the visiting team's jersey. The fans proceeded to rip the jersey of the child and burn it in the middle of the street after punching the parents in the face. While this is not representative of all Portuguese, circumstances like this still happen. Some of our Portuguese friends have even told us that they envy American fans because they do not take sports to such extremes.

There is so much more we could tell you about this wonderful country and people. Some things interesting and really fascinating and other things just plain funny as foreigners. But just maybe, you will be curious enough to visit this country and see for yourself :)

a miscarriage in a foreign land

"We can't find the heartbeat."

The baby's heart had stopped. And in that moment, mine did too.

The woman at the hospital confirmed what I had suspected, but it didn't make the blow any less painful. Since becoming pregnant, the thought of miscarrying was constantly in the folds of my mind. And the days leading up to that hospital visit were filled with worry combated with faith. You see, I had been spotting, on and off, for three weeks. At the first sight of blood, I immediately went researching. As it turns out, many women spot or bleed in their first trimester. It eased my mind for awhile, and the spotting even stopped for several days. But then it started again and was heavier.

I told Hodge and shared with him my concerns. Whilst holding my hands, he prayed. And then we moved forward, knowing that no matter what was about to happen, God knew and we were in God's hands.

Hodge called our doctor but had to leave a message. She soon responded instructing us to go to a hospital about 30 minutes away in Porto. Upon arriving and then waiting three hours to be seen, I tried to remain calm as my mind raced and my heart was heavy. I mostly did so by repeating the words God had brought to me earlier that morning.

"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all." Psalm 34:18-19

With these words, God confirmed His presence. He was going to help me through and deliver me out of it. I had no doubt about it.

After the doctor called us back and asked all the appropriate questions, she proceeded to do an ultrasound. And then those words. "We can't find the heartbeat." We struggled to respond as she continued to ramble off the facts: doesn't mean you can't have children in the future, genetic problem, try again in a couple months, 1 in 4 women. In that moment, you don't feel like 1 in 4. You feel like one in the entire world.

We walked out into the lobby and then came the flood. It is something about walking into a room full of pregnant women when you have just discovered your baby has died and then being asked "What did they say? How is everything?" by the man who deals with the hospital bill because he speaks fluent English that makes you want to cry. And you ever notice how when you are sad and someone gives you a hug, for some reason that hug gives you license to cry or cry harder?

Well, we went back home having been told that because I was already bleeding, it would take about a week for the baby to come out naturally. O man, was I dreading this part. And that is because, mostly, I didn't know what to expect. The doctor did little to inform. Plus, with the language barrier, it was difficult to get clear answers. So, I went researching, again, and it seemed the only useful information were the personal testimonies shared on online forums. I was thankful for women that shared. I also reread a blog post one of my friends wrote a couple weeks back about her miscarriage. In her words, "If you go through a miscarriage on your own, with out any procedure, your body actually goes through labor. Yes LABOR. And what happens when a woman goes through labor?... A baby at the end...right." I was terrified of the inevitable physical pain as well as the emotional pain when my eyes would see that tiny, lifeless fetus.

(Now come the slightly gory details.)

As we settled in for the night, I started to bleed A LOT. I went through one pad. Two pads. I sat on the toilet and blood was dripping. And not only blood, but large globs of tissue. (Looking back now, I had read somewhere that if you bleed through a pad in one hour, you go to the hospital. However, that bit of information seemed to have slipped my mind, and my freaking out about losing so much blood took precedence.)  Then, contractions. Then, nausea and dizziness. Then, as my arms rested around Hodge's neck, I passed out. When I came to, I leaned over to vomit.

The second time this happened, I woke up surrounded by a pool of blood and about 5 people in a hospital room. (Thankfully, Hodge had found a hospital nearby.)  A woman was yelling my name. I panicked, I freaked out, I started crying. What else was I to do? The woman in charge was asking, "Are you pregnant?" My response: "I was."  It was only after they stripped me, laid me on a gurney, and covered me with a huge blanket that I realized I was shaking. I was cold, I was scared, and my eyes were frantically searching for Hodge.

My breathing slowly became more calm and controlled as I was rolled to another room. Once there, a doctor performed an ultrasound, and I was cleaned up by two really sweet girls that looked younger than me. I tried to convey that I was doing okay by making a joke, because, well... I was 24 and wearing a diaper. The girls then helped me to another room with a bed where I was finally able to talk with Hodge. He said I was to stay overnight, and he wasn't allowed to stay. I asked if the baby had come out. His answer, "Yes." When the nurse came back, she said that she had given me some medicine as an effort to get the remainder of the tissue out of my uterus naturally. Once she got me settled and Hodge made sure I was okay, I was left alone. At that point, I looked forward to rest. Only, it didn't come quite yet. I spent the night with contractions as my companions. Finally, at around 7:30 in the morning, tissue started coming out. Then, it was over. The pain was gone, and sleep immediately overtook me. A couple hours later, the doctor did another ultrasound and informed me everything was good. More blood was expected over the next week, but it would be very light.

After I drank some tea and ate bread to fight dizziness that nearly made me pass out again, Hodge took me back home, got me in bed, and fed me. Then, rest.

I write all of this down not to gross anyone out but to inform. I share because other women shared. I read nothing that prepared me for this. Miscarriages vary and every woman who goes through one has a different experience it seems. But I believe, every woman (and every person for that matter) should be informed, whether or not it happens to them. As family and friends reached out to us, it was quite surprising to discover how many had gone through a miscarriage. They really are that common and really do effect many women and families. It is helpful knowing that others understand what we went through, emotionally as well as physically and mentally.

In the days that followed, every time I closed my eyes to talk with God, the only words that I could think to say were "Thank you." Thank you, Lord, for getting me through this. Thank you for doctors that spoke English and took great care of me in that moment of crisis. Thank you for Sergio, that EMT guy who gave Hodge a hug as the doctors attended to me. Thank you for my sweet husband who has been so strong through it all, has made me laugh despite the pain, and has taken care of me. Thank you for family and friends who are there for us despite the distance. Thank you for Your comfort. Thank you for hope. I don't blame God. In fact, I was reminded several times through this that the Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Many people might not understand this statement and even think it dumb, but it makes sense to me.

While my faith remains in God, I don't ignore the pain. I don't cover anything with a smile and pretend that my heart isn't broken. Those 24 hours, each feeling, each scene, each word are forever implanted in my memory and each time they are replayed in my mind, my eyes fill with tears. This world is full of pain, and I am not blind to that. Everyone encounters affliction, everyone deals with pain. But there is only one God who can sympathize with us in our pain. His name is Jesus. The only God who came as man and experienced pain and suffering. The only God who truly understands what we face in this world. And because of Him, I can find joy in the midst of pain. 

(Hebrews 4:15, James 1:2-4)

In the future, I will cry and I will get sad, but it doesn't mean I don't trust the God who gave me life, the God who loves me unconditionally, and the God who holds my future. I know that I will continue to face affliction my entire life, but I also know that I will continue to grow through each experience and every feeling of pain.

In a few months, we will try again to conceive. And I am hopeful. If I have another miscarriage, I will learn and grow through it and praise God. If we have the opportunity to birth and raise a child, I will learn and grow through it and praise God.

My greatest accomplishment, thus far.

I have managed to live in a foreign country. I have finished tasks, done errands, and ordered food without understanding a single spoken word. I have learned some Portuguese. I have had conversations in Portuguese with complete strangers and actually understood them. I have successfully navigated myself through a major city. I have learned to make new foods. I have adjusted to a new and different way of life.

I have learned and accomplished many things since moving to Portugal.
However, my greatest feat is found in none of these.

I, Tiffany Michele Hodge, have learned to drive a stick-shift!

In the words of Hodge, "Don't you just feel
cooler driving a manual?" Yes, I do!

A couple months back, my very sweet and VERY patient husband started giving me driving lessons. The first time was filled with grunts, complaints, and several expressions of "I can't do this!" The next time was a little less grunt-y but just as frustrating, on my end. Even though Hodge never gave up on me, I decided to stop my pathetic attempts after trying one or two more times, convinced that I would never successfully drive a manual. 

Then, last week happened. And o, what a glorious week!

We both decided it was necessary for me to learn. So, we continued my training in a large gravel parking lot near our house, going back to the basics. Taking off, switching gears, stopping, and backing up. This time, I forced myself to remain calm when I made mistakes. And as he did in the past, Hodge encouraged me whilst explaining how the gears worked. This time, it made sense and stuck. After many minutes of practicing had passed, Hodge was even nice and brave enough to play the "random pedestrian suddenly stepping foot on the crosswalk" as I practiced not hitting him.

When we moved to the streets, I had to work even harder to remain calm, but that tactic proved its value. A huge smile would splash across my face every time I started off smoothly or maneuvered some kind of challenging obstacle. As I made it to fourth gear for the first time on the long road running parallel to the ocean, I felt very proud of myself.

Hodge kept asking me how it felt to work
alongside Vin Diesel and Paul Walker
in the Fast and Furious movies.

The car and I settled our differences
and became friends.

When all is said and done, I think Hodge is just happy to be chauffeured around after having done so for me the past several months. My next challenge will be to "head out on the highway, looking for adventure and whatever comes my way," born to drive manual!

"Home"

Last week, our colleague asked the question: "Do you feel at home, here in Portugal?" The answer practically fell out of my mouth. "Yes!"  I then gave a rapid answer to my rapid response. But now as I sit at a cafe in a small town that isn't really "home," I reflect on why I did give such a rapid response.

My reasoning does not lie in the fact that I love this place. I mean, I do love this place. The people are wonderful, our little community has been very welcoming, and while the language can be difficult, I actually find it quite enjoyable overall, and... well... Do I really need to say it? We live 50 yards from the beach! As I count all these appealing factors on one hand, I then look to the other hand. The hand that holds those days when I don't want to hear another word of Portuguese. Those days I would rather stay in, watch American TV while I eat my American burger with American mac and cheese and dream about all the places I want to go once I am back on American soil. Some days, the culture and "the way things are done" here drive me crazy.

So, I look at my hands. But then I see bigger hands. I see the hands that have put me in this specific place at this specific time. I see the hands that have shaped my life and my heart and have brought me to this moment. To this season in life. I see the hands of a God so powerful and so perfect and so generous as to allow me to share in His work here.

I am not here because I want to be away from family, friends, English, comfort, or convenience.

I am here because God has called us here, and I am here because I believe He has made us for this.

And the reason I answered so rapidly is just this: I feel so "at home" because I have never felt so close to God. I have shed tears over missed relationships, and I have panicked over doing things that would be so simple in the States, yet requires so much effort in a foreign country. But in the midst of it all, in my very vulnerable state, He has allowed me to see more clearly my need and my desire for Him. I feel as if He has awakened my spirit by first bringing me through a state of desperation for the things I once thought I needed to a state of complete contentment and joy in Him alone. He has brought me to my knees and to His Word. And while there are still days that I fail to completely trust Him and I remain as sinful as ever, God continues to displays his unconditional love for me in many ways, but mostly in the fact that He continues to teach me and allow me to grow in my faith. 

"For we know that if the earthly tent which is our house is torn down, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For indeed in this house we groan, longing to be clothed with our dwelling from heaven... And knowing that while we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord - for we walk by faith, not by sight."
1 Corinthians 5:1-2, 6-7

And so, my feet go forward in faith, and my heart is at home because I am walking with the Lord, and that is the closest thing to "home" that I am going to get on this earth.

If a picture says a thousand words, I just wrote a novel.

I thank my husband for editing and taking several of these pictures :)

It seems I need some inspiration from The Little Mermaid

One aspect of Portuguese culture that I just can't get used to yet is the very typical European-styled greeting. Two kisses on the cheeks, right first and then left, without missing a beat. And the persistence of the Portuguese to keep this practice alive is quite amazing. In a room full of people, a single cheek will make its way around the entire crowd, even if it takes 5 minutes. If you have a personal bubble, forget about it in Portugal.
This is where I am at.
When first meeting someone, I stick out my hand hoping they don't go for my cheeks first. In some instances, it works. In others, I am not quick enough. And as they lean in for the inevitable, half the time I am so uncomfortable that I go too fast and knock cheeks rather than gracefully touch.
With many people, I can just tell them I am not quite used to the whole kissing thing yet. Some are understanding and give me my space. Others make sure I get used to the custom real fast.
What makes we wary, as well, is the range of kissing styles. Let me explain. When cheek-kissing someone for the first time, you never know what you are gonna get. With some people, mostly adults and young adults, it is more of a slight touch. No real kissing besides imitating the mouth and making the "pop" sound. With older ladies, it is much more forceful as they pull you down to their height and give you those kisses with no shame. And let's just say the young kids are still learning. Most Sundays, I literally have to hide from one particular little boy at church who seeks out the American missionary to give her two full-blown, sloppy kisses on the cheeks.
So, next time I enter that crowd or meet someone new, I will just imagine Sebastian from The Little Mermaid singing to me:

"There you see them

Standing there across the way

They don't got a lot to say

Cause the language is not the same

And you don't know why

But you wanna run and hide

Instead of kissing the Portuguese

Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Don't be scared

Their cheeks are all prepared

Go on and kiss the Portuguese

Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Ain't that sad

It's just two kisses, not that bad

Go on and kiss the Portuguese

You've got to kiss the Portuguese

Why don't you kiss the Portuguese

You gotta kiss the Portuguese

Go on and kiss the Portuguese."

Thank you, Sebastian.

A Day in the Life

It is 7:35 in the morning. As we start the 30 minute walk to the metro, we practice our Portuguese with one another. The walk isn't so bad, really. Even the cobblestones beneath our feet look interesting. That's how I would describe Portugal. Interesting. Around every corner, there seems to be just one more thing that catches our interest... The aged buildings, the people, the numerous fruit stands, the alters at seemingly random places which include statues of saints or an agonized-looking Jesus, the pastry shop windows full of deliciousness. Even the fields of grass and weeds look interesting. Walking, we pass numerous coffee shops that I promise myself to stop in one day. As we get closer to the metro, we pass the same old man who tips his hat to us and responds likewise, as we say, "Bom Dia!"
While waiting for the metro, we make simple conversation in Portuguese and English to Sergio (our friend who works at the metro stop). We then board, find seats, and study until we hear the lady on the intercom announce our stop. Before going to class, we stop by a cafe that we have been frequenting. The lady behind the counter recognizes us now and anticipates our order. The same thing almost everyday... Croissant misto and meia de leite for me, carioca com leite for Hodge. I smile as she gets the order ready because I only used to dream about becoming a "regular". And now in Portugal. Crazy.
The rest of the morning and early afternoon are spent in language class. Our teachers instruct us in grammar as well as give us the low-down on Portuguese culture and ways. Classes are quite enjoyable, but by the end, we are drained of just about every ounce of energy that we had when the class started. After class, we stop in a mall because we have time before the next metro back to Vila do Conde. This stop often includes visiting "The American Store" (a small shop that carries, mostly food, products found in The States)... where we have also become regulars. No shame... I guess the appropriate phrase here would be, "Proud to be Americans". There, we talk with Sara, the girl who is always behind the counter. Because she speaks no English, our conversations usually end in laughter when we get to that point where we can't understand each other and just kind of give up until the next time.
Soon after that, we find ourselves on the metro. Metro rides are mostly quiet with many eyes staring in our direction as we are clearly not from around here. We settle in for the hour ride home, and eventually, the steady movement of the back and forth rocks us, and my eyes become increasingly heavy. A ten minute snooze is just enough to give enough energy for the walk that awaits us once we get off the metro. The afternoon walk is generally more pleasant and relaxed, especially when the sun has made an appearance. And this is when we explore. We go into shops we haven't before, while stopping into many of the ones we have to say hello to people we have met. Several of them have agreed to help us with the language, so we take advantage of that.
The afternoons prove themselves low-key, if plans have not been made. We rest our minds from Portuguese for a bit, and at some point, our feet make their way to the beach with an anxious dog. Standing on the sand, breathing in the fresh, salty air, watching the waves crash with the vast ocean behind them. In that moment, it is difficult not to marvel at where God has brought us, both spiritually and physically. A type of spiritual renewal that is desperately needed.
As for evenings, they vary. A couple of nights each week, we go out to one of the restaurants in our little town. Anything to meet people and try new food. And as we return to the places we (and our pockets) like, the people working there recognize us. It is kind of easy to with our light hair, light skin, and English tongues. Plus, we normally arrive about an hour or two before normal Portuguese dinner hour, which is closer to 9 or 10. The people working allow us to practice Portugese with them as we stumble over words and take several minutes to say simple phrases. But it is always a good time, and we are thankful for their patience. 
A few evenings have been spent with new friends, and still others have been spent inside with a cozy fire and a cup of tea. And of course, most nights consist of studying. We crawl into bed late, and our eyes close on yet another day. Days that are sometimes tough, days that are often full of lessons on humility, but days that God has given us for a purpose.