He reigns.

Psalm 47:8 says, "God reigns over the nations; God is seated on his holy throne."  

This is how you say "God" in the languages of just some of the people I've met in Germany this year.


(I used Google Translate, so hopefully this is correct...)

Belarusian:  Бог
Chinese:  神
Czech:  Bůh
German:  Gott
Greek:  Θεός
Italian:  Dio
Korean:  하나님
Portuguese:  Deus
Russian:  Бог
Spanish:  Dios
French:  Dieu


The name of God is a beautiful name, a powerful name, and a name worthy of praise.

(Sometimes I'm intimidated to write a blog about what I'm learning from the Lord.  This is mostly because I feel as though I should have incredibly insightful things to say, and that I should say them in incredibly impressive ways.  But really, all I want to do is share.  So... this is what I'm learning from the Lord. :0)

Last Monday, my friends and I were asked the question, "What do you need in order to hear from the Lord this week?"  I wasn't sure, and so I asked the Lord what I needed in order to hear from Him.

He led me to the end of the book of Job.  You know that part where God's telling Job about how amazing He is?  I really love these chapters.  Read Job 38-41... it's sweet.

What I needed was to understand who God is.  I was reminded as I read that God is so God, and I am so not.  I don't know why I deceive myself into thinking that I have the authority to question Him... I totally don't.  I do believe that I can ask Him about the things that I don't understand... but what I realized is that I've been doing that with an attitude of frustration, without recognizing God's goodness and authority.  I toss questions at Him to complain.

But you can't read Job 38-41 without seeing God's authority.  And after hearing the Lord talk about His greatness-- a talk so powerful that before He starts, He tells Job, "Brace yourself like a man," (38:3)... after this, Job concludes:  "Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know" (42:3).  I love this... the realization that when I don't understand something, when in my head I say, 'I don't like that'... in reality it's too wonderful for me to know.

And what's even more crazy is that this God who created the universe, God who knows and has control over every detail of the universe, and whose ways are too wonderful for me to know-- this God, knowing how sinful we are, came to earth to die on the cross so that we could have a relationship with Him.  How much sweeter I understand salvation to be when I understand how great is God who gives it and how much I don't deserve to know Him.

What I Like Today.

Yesterday someone asked me why I like Germany.  Most of my time in Germany has been spent in Berlin, so my response really described why I like Berlin.  I've got a good list, but I'm also still finding answers to this question, and probably will be for a while.

What I like about Berlin today:

Sun.  Blue sky.  The fact that these are things to celebrate.  I left my bed almost a full hour before my alarm because I looked out the window.

It's like the whole world's represented here.  The guy who asked me why I like Germany is from north Africa.  He's married to a woman from Germany, who I met through a friend from Russia.  Last night I hung out with a girl from Belgium.  It goes on and on.

Berlin seems like this funny mix of city and not.  As though someone took a big, important, skyscraper-type city and stuck it on top of a friendly, park-filled neighborhood kind of city, fitting things into place until it was Berlin.

This is what I like about Berlin today.  But it's only a little past noon, so it's an unfinished list.

Some things I saw as I walked around Berlin.

Last month, Christmas markets filled the city.  In a post a while back, I gave a description of the first market I attended.  That one, located in my favorite of the 'tourist spots' in the city, was fancy and beautiful.

Later, someone from Germany showed me a great Christmas market hidden away in a neighborhood.  People filled the market, but it was cozy and perfect.  Walking there on my second visit, I discovered this car, on which someone had left a "love note" in the snow.

The gold squares on the ground around Berlin bear the names of persecuted Jewish people who were removed from the buildings in front of which the squares are set and taken to concentration camps.  One rainy day, my roommate and I noticed that someone had honored these memorials with their own tribute.  Siegfried and Fanny both died in the year after they were taken from their homes.

My dad and I might be the only two people who would get a kick out of getting wet wipes along with my meal at McDonald's in Berlin, so this picture is for him.

I'm pretty sure (thanks to Google Translate, which is super helpful) that there are at least three languages on this thing-- English, German, and Czech.

Christmas holds different things for different people...

Weinachtsmarkt.  Christmas pudding.  Hot weather and lots of cooking.  Sausages with potato salad.  Parade through town.  Christmas carols around the piano.  Goose.  Presents on Christmas Eve.  Presents on Christmas morning.  Sleep.  Candlelit service.  Friends.  Family.  No celebration.

These things are aspects of the Christmas season experienced by people from six different countries. One of the most interesting, enjoyable, and eye-opening things about spending Christmas in this new place has been to see the Christmas holiday through the eyes of friends.

People have talked about the fact that during this year of life in another place, "normal goes out the window."  Sometimes throwing things out windows can feel really fun.  It's exciting to experience whatever fills the spot that normal once held.  But that phrase can also feel like a fur coat in July-- I want to shrug out of it, and sometimes I begin to panic, because I'm pretty sure heat stroke isn't fun.

Though I'd be inclined to think Christmas would fall under the 'fur coat' category, that wasn't the case.

Normally, on Christmas Eve, I love to stand with my family in the pew of my home church, grasping a lit candle and singing "Silent Night."  I keep the blaze alive as long as possible, because this is my favorite part of the evening.

This year, I stood in the balcony of a 100-year-old German church, sang a song in Latin describing the coming of a Savior, and looked out at the faces of friends.  We sang carols on the way there and threw snowballs on the way home.

Normally, on Christmas morning, my sister and I wake up, throw on our robes, and make our way downstairs to the living room, where the Christmas tree glows and breakfast-- bread eaten every December 25th-- will bake soon.

This year, on Christmas morning, two miniature Christmas trees greeted me from my kitchen window as I gathered goods to make breakfast-- scrambled eggs and waffles-- at another apartment.  There, we piled presents under a Christmas tree fashioned from a green blanket and post-it notes.  It was truly one of the most special Christmas trees I've had.  And we cheered as we opened each gift.

Normally, for Christmas dinner, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents gather for dinner-- ham, butterscotch pie, and so much more.  We open gifts again, play my favorite card game, and stay overnight, waking up to my aunt's breakfast spread.

This year, for Christmas dinner, friends gathered for food-- porkchops and bratwursts, peanut butter pie, and so much more.  I met new friends, read about Christmas, and had fun conversation all through the evening.


I love the normal, and I love the new.  And I love the fact that the center remains the same.

On the U-bahn

Typically one does not talk to one's neighbor on the u-bahn, unless the neighbor happens to be a friend.  But riding the long stretch home from language class the other day was an exception.

Attempting to speak German with a friend from class, I fumbled articles, searching for the right one.  

"Die?  Das?  Der?"

In front of me, a girl around my age turned around with an amused look on her face to find me, the source of the butchered German.  And so I smiled, laughed at myself, and asked her which one was correct.  Now I can't remember what the word or the article was, but I appreciated her help.  

As I continued to attempt speech, now lost as to which conjugation was correct, a woman next to me spoke.

"You're doing fine," she said, smiling in understanding.  Turns out she's not from Germany either, and she too is learning the language.

After that, the four of us began a conversation in the train.  A conversation so enjoyable that one of our new friends missed two or three stops while talking, and we exchanged contact information in the end!

How fun to find common ground, helpful people, and good conversation.

This week, our team discussed John 14-17.  There's some great stuff there.

One of the things I noticed: Jesus kept talking about how when we ask for things in his name, they'll happen (Luke 14:13-14; 15:16; 16:23-24).  God will do them.  Whoah.

You know those things that you believe in the sense that you know they are true, but at the same time you don't believe, in the sense that you don't live like they're true?  This is one of those for me.

I know that Jesus is telling the truth.  That's what he does.  But if I really believed him when he says, "You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it" (Luke 14:14)... wouldn't I be asking him for things in his name all the time??

So now I've gotta figure out what I can ask in his name.  Somebody said that asking 'in his name' means asking 'according to his will.'  Which can seem daunting, until I'm reminded that he tells me what his will is in his Word.

As I was writing this post, I started copying down things that I found in the Bible that I could pray... and then I gave up, because that would be a lot of writing.  There's a lot in there that I could pray.  One wise woman called the Bible 'our prayer book.'

I can't get over it... If I pray stuff in his name, God will do it.  There's so much power there.  I'm really excited, because think of what will happen!  (I almost wrote, "what could happen" instead of "what will happen"... just goes to show that I'm still not fully believing.)  

He will do great things.