Category Archives: Poland

Jezus Kocha Mnie

Posted in life, Poland by

Last night at Bible study I chose the song ‘Jesus Loves Me’. Sung in Polish, it still means the same as the words I grew up with.

‘Ah!’ my friend said beside me. ‘Why you want to sing this–because you feel like a child today?’

‘No. Because I like to sing it,’ I said. I carried an adult-sized load yesterday, not a child’s.

But Jesus said we are to be like children to be part of His kingdom. I like that about Him, because it means He will take me in my simplicity and helplessness. I think part of my soul would die if I’d feel too grown-up to sing ‘Jesus Loves Me.’

Today’s Thanks

Posted in life, My Book, Poland by

We talked long as we ate black currents from her bushes, my friend and I, soaking up the sun.

She told me of her friend: “She was older when she married, and their marriage is ok, but she’s not happy. She doesn’t like to be with my children, and she never comes to visit us. She wanted to have children, so maybe it hurts too much to be around them. She loves to give gifts, but says she hates to receive them. I don’t know how I can help her. She’s so alone, and has always been. What do I have that can help her? What’s the best way I can show her I love her–make her donuts every week? What do you think I should do? I wish you could talk with her. I wish she could read your book.”

I wanted to weep because I could be that lady except for God’s scandalous grace and my choices.

I said, “I’d love to talk with her–someday when I learn Polish better. But the thing she needs most is to give thanks now. You and I both know that both of us have a wonderful life, but there are still things we cry about. We’ll always have imperfections to deal with no matter where we live or who we’re married to or what dream has come true.

The one thing God asks is that we thank Him. Just this last Saturday, He told me very clearly You must thank me for this season of aloneness, these responsibilities, this experience. It doesn’t mean that I’m always dancing and laughing. I can be honest with God. David often did that. But always the rant must end in trust, rest, and thanks, even if we have to take ourselves by the scruff of the neck to say it.”

It’s good for me to hear myself say these things, otherwise sometimes I’d forget them.

Last night a friend and her son dropped in at school just to see if I was ok, or if I was too lonely. I’d have talked longer with her but another friend was coming to my house, who ended up staying til midnight. Life is very good. A long bike ride, eating berries in the sun, watching children play in water, drinking tea, a rich, absorbing book, a non-English-speaking friend who gave me a ride and was most gracious with my stumbling Polish.

My Thanks Journal is still the best discipline in my life. Tonight the list will be long.

Initialisms

Posted in Poland, teaching English, words by

If you’re a teacher, you plan a lesson, and you think it should work, but you never really know if it will fly until it flies. There are no guarantees. At least, I haven’t found them.

But yesterday’s lesson on initialisms was a smashing success with my teen girls. I wrote initialisms like LOL, FHI, TMI, IMHO on the board, asked if they’ve seen it and where, and explained how we use it. We also discussed terms like “ego surfing” and the “five-second rule” and then keyboard pictures of frowns, smiles, and hearts.

These girls are at school all day, and they come here because their parents want them to learn English so I hate to do anything that looks like school work with books because they really don’t want to do it and then it’s no fun for any of us and we leave feeling like we endured something. (An English teacher should be able to do better than that run-on sentence but there you are.) Fun has to be a component of the lesson, because if it’s a miserable time, they won’t learn anything except that studying English is hard and boring.

I wanted to cheer when the girls asked for paper to write what the initialisms mean. They NEVER ask to write. They would rather talk all the time, and they do well at that, but write? Never. So we wrote on our papers and laughed about using LOL as a spoken word vs. written and I explained what XXOO means when your mom writes it on a note. Then we took turns answering questions like:

What shortcuts do you use in your own language?
Do you think initialisms should be included in dictionaries?
Have you heard of the five-second rule before? Do you agree with it?
Do you think older people are confused by initialisms?

I don’t think new dictionaries should include initialisms as words. I think electronic, condensed messages don’t use words as they’re meant to be used. But it’s a great way to have an English class for teens!

Out the Door

Posted in Family, life, Poland, travel by

Summer is nearly here, and already my teen students are leaving. Last week I said good-bye to two of them. One is heading for London for a month’s visit and then medical school. The other has a ticket to Rhodes to work at a hotel for the summer. Both model students, I am so proud of them. I tried to pour as much English into them as possible in the few months we had together, and of course I wonder if I I gave them enough.

Two other students are leaving next week for an extensive trip through Europe, and their functional language in each country will be English. There’s so much they need to know yet. At the hotels, will they be able to say, “The hairdryer/toilet/window doesn’t work. The towels are wet/dirty.”? Actually, I think Europeans are generally much better at communicating in a second language than most Americans, so they’ll be ok.

I am not their mom, only their English teacher and friend. But the good-byes make me feel melancholy and make me want to pour all good wishes into them. I remember the lines from Evangeline Paterson that my mom has read to me and written on cards when I left for extended times. The lines made me cry, and they let me feel that I live under a blessing:

On this doorstep I stand year after year
and watch your leaving and think:
May you not skin your knees.
May you not catch your fingers in car doors.
May your heart not break.
May tide and weather wait for your coming
and may you grow strong
to break all webs of my weaving.

His Perpetual Kaleidoscope

Posted in life, Poland, travel by

For two consecutive nights, I watched the sun set in glory, in an alive pink that would be impossible to recapture on paper or canvas. Saturday night I saw it from a hill in Kaziemierz Dolny, a charming artsy town in Central Poland. The next night, we were driving home in the long dusk and watched the sunset from the car.

The spectacular, unrivaled brightness and color and drama reminded me of what Jerry Root said. I posted about it last year here.

“We could have lived on a dark planet. And been told that there would be one sunset. And we’d have lined every west coast of every continent and every island on the planet. And as we saw the glory of that event and tears came to our eyes, we’d have written about it in our journals and regaled our progeny with the glory of that event.

But what must God be like, that He has made our planet a perpetual kaleidoscope of sunrises and sunsets?!”

I imagine myself in a crowd lining a west coast and willing my memory to record every change of light and cloud, every blending and separating of colors as the golden fuschia sun, like a massive coin, dropped steadily toward the horizon. To have watched the sun set only one time would be to witness the most amazing phenomena ever.

What is God like, to give us a sunset every day?

My Wondrous, Silent Gift

Posted in life, Poland by

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We were girlfriends waiting for a train. It was Christmas time in the city, night, but not dark. The evening had been magic, walking through snowy festive streets and exploring the Christmas market in Warsaw’s Old Town. We became like walking snowmen, coated with falling snow.

Rather than wait for the train in the underground station, we chose to wait above ground in the fresh air. We stood in a big, untracked space where people had obviously kept to the walkways and left the snow untouched. I discovered it made an easy ball, and instantly I knew what to do while we waited.

I handed my bag to my friend, tied my scarf so it wouldn’t get in my way, and started rolling a ball bigger and bigger. Packed it firmly, rolled it some more, and put more snow around it to stabilize it. In maybe ten minutes I had built a snowman just shorter than me. He was nicely proportioned, and his stance showed that he was happy.

But what do you use for a snowman’s face if there’s no gravel or coal or carrot around? You improvise. On the far side of a building I found a pine tree and broke off some little bits. The bare pieces made eyes and a nose, and a twig made a charming smile. With a little greenery, the snowman got some hair. Curved branches formed his arms reaching toward the sky.

I cannot put into words the satisfaction and delight I found in those quick ten minutes. It was almost like celebrating a sacrament or a revival. A bubbling, rollicking joy in making something out of nothing, delighting in the sparkle of the ball as it rolled and grew, giving the face a personality with its smile, and hoping that it would make strangers smile as they rushed to their train.

I bet the world would change if everyone made a snowman.

I Love Words

Posted in Poland, words by

In the first meeting with each of my intermediate-and-higher classes, I ask each student to make a list of their favourite English words and bring it back at our next class. I tell them that this is probably the only homework I’ll ever give them. That makes them smile. Hopefully, it helps them like me too.

After they give me their lists, I go to Wordle and create a word cloud that suits the gist of the words and the person they come from. It’s way too fun! The collection on our classroom wall is growing, and I like to see students perusing the random, colorful words. My list is up there too, giving opportunity to enlarge their vocabulary when they ask what “fuchsia” means, and “dazzle” and “magnanimous.”

Finding myself in a new country, surrounded by a new language, I find myself emptier of words than is normal for me. Even my journal entries are tending to be bumpier, more fragmented than before. Not to mention that my blogging has nearly stopped. But this silence, this taking-in and observing, is good. It’s a kind of rest, and words are still alive to me. Even if I can’t string them together so well right now. I am empowering others by handing them basic English words and concepts, one word at time, and that’s ok for now.

I don’t know if I’ll ever understand the significance of Christ being the Word of God. There is something mysteriously powerful about a word, even if they say a picture is worth a thousand words. A person’s words reveals their heart, their character, their dreams and passions. That’s why I like to collect my student’s favourite words. It’s why I like the stories in the Gospels, and hear the words Jesus used for the people in His world.

Words are impractical and practical, beautiful and useful. I love words.

Bon Voyage, Hope Singers 2010

Posted in music, Poland by

Following a path that looks more like chance than design but really is Divine Planning, I’m ready to pack up for my 3rd Hope Singers tour. And I don’t have words to say how excited I am.

Life is so simple on a choir tour. All you have to do is make sure you have your music folder and water bottle in hand at the right time. Everything else–bus time, conversations, exploring old towns, weather, picnics–is peripheral. But the peripheral things, the ones you don’t concentrate so much on, are what shapes the tour, and gives it meaning and delight.

My favourite story about Lloyd Kauffman, the conductor, happened after the first full program in Krakow in ’08. My part, 2nd alto, had a low note, I think it was a D, and I didn’t hit it. It was my favourite note in the song, and I felt bad for messing it up.

During the meal afterward, I was sitting across the corner from Lloyd. I told him I’m sorry I didn’t hit that note. He hears every note of every singer, so of course he knew which one I was talking about. He smiled big and put his hand on my shoulder and said, “You’re forgiven–be cleansed and free!”

His gentleness and grace inspired me to not fail the music and from there on, I could hit the note fine, and when it was especially fine, he’d give me this huge wink that made me feel light as air.

Lloyd is a master with music, and with people. He arranges the songs we sing, and knows how he wants them sung, but is gentle and gracious when we fail his plans. Hope ’08 had many significant moments, but that one exchange with Lloyd probably changed my life.

Because Christ’s love and redemption is the most powerful force in the world.To hand out grace in the face of failure is being as Christ. If that’s the only thing that happens during a choir tour, receiving God’s grace and extending it to others, it is enough.

Leaving Them Behind

Posted in books, Family, Ireland, life, Poland by

It’s booked: Dublin to Warsaw.

Friday morning I plan to fly to Poland, to teach English for two years. I look deep into my nephews’ and niece’s eyes, and stroke their hair, and try to absorb their light and dimples and smiles. I weigh suitcases, deliberate, and cull. And run my hands over the spines of books I need to put back on the shelves. I’m needing to leave my friends behind. And I don’t mean only the friends who walk and breathe and love me and pray big, magnanimous prayers for me.

My books are my friends too, and I wish I could take them with me, to enjoy repeatedly and share. But like real friends, the books will remain a real part of my life, even though we will live in separate countries.

I don’t know how to transport my life in two suitcases and leave behind what is familiar and embrace what is strange, and do it well. Part of it is to make hard choices and leave some things behind. It will be ok. I’ll make new friends there, and keep the old. Both the kinds with hearts and the kinds with pages.

My Saviour has my treasure, and He will walk with me.

What do you do for fun?

Posted in life, Poland by

When I was writing my book, I let myself buy books in the name of research. When I was studying massage therapy, I allowed myself a massage now and then in the name of research. And of course I benefited from the good, necessary things that I might otherwise have called indulgences.

Now I am headed to Poland to teach English and with that package comes the necessity to study Polish, and I haven’t found anything indulgent about it. Unless it is to grab random moments to sit in the sun and review vocabulary. I am not like any of my three sisters who have had language hobbies for years, and happily sat in the living room with grammar books and recordings in various languages. I always said I was still trying to master English.

It’s a love-hate phenomenon, this language study. I expect that I’ll keep toeing this delicate dance for the next two years. I’m scared. And out of my depth. Happy for a change of career, and reveling in a challenge.

Taking on a challenge is something I do for fun.