[Entries from the journal]
Friday, January 27, 2012,
…Had my first authentic fish and chips at The Pheasant Inn…never want it again. :D
I wonder how L’Abri will be.
15:05
(On the bus to Liss) Sheep were grazing on the bank of the highway!
15:20
Saturday, January 28, 2012,
First night at L’Abri complete. Cold! Heart racing all night.
Yoghurt and granola and toast and tea, this morning. The choir—made up of L’Abri students—has assembled this morning. Their melodies waft through the cracks in our worn wooden floor. My bunk is neat—checkered comforter warming my sheets. Jet lag calls me to sleep, but I shall not succumb, so that I may rest deeply this eve.
A cold fog coats our dorm windows.
A relentless aching band squeezes my head. Fatigue pulls on my eyes. “Give thanks in all circumstances.” Okay, what good is there to be found in today’s physical discomforts? Father, please allow me the grace to find good first in small discomforts. May Your praise be continually welling up in my heart and spilling forth from my lips! “Be joyful always. Pray continually.”
09:10
My first morning of studying. I’ve found a cozy spot with a desk by a window. The morning rays glow gentle and white through the makeshift curtain overlaid with stitched flowers. The lamp perched upon the desk casts a welcome glow over my desk’s cassette player and reading material. 1st book: One Thousand Gifts.
09:33
Tuesday, January 31, 2012,
Filling thirty glasses of water for lunch—thinking of oil jars that never ran dry.
As we give thanks, the miracle of joy continues to fill up our cup—like oil overflowing (thinking on One Thousand Gifts).
I am learning to give thanks.
Give thanks when a fire burns warm in the den at 11:00 tea.
Give thanks when hands are numb from hanging damp laundry in the winter air.
Give thanks when heat is sapped from my core at the break of dawn, in the midday, and in the black of night.
Give thanks when grating ginger.
Give thanks when stacking mounds of chopped wood.
Give thanks when scrubbing porcelain toilets and vacuuming tired carpets.
Give thanks: in the heavy peace of study by a crackling fire.
--in the warm conversation of new friends at dinner, candles and spirits burning bright.
--in each step closer in the frosty air to the closest town.
Give thanks!
And the joy always follows!
I taste a gossamer joy—sugary sweet wafers that melt in my mouth in the most menial tasks, in exhaustion, in frustration. How gentle the gratitude, how sweet the taste!
This week, as I ache for relational depth, build new friendships, wrestle deep questions, and adjust to the routine and structure of this refuge, I find comfort in the continual presence of my loving maker who woos and stills my heart even amidst chaos and who warms my heart when I shiver in discomfort. And the words continually arise, no matter the circumstance, no matter the time—give thanks!
Extra: Tips on Staying Warm
1. The water bottle. Thanks to the Germans, we students at L’Abri are escaping frostbite. I have found that when filled with boiling water and shoved to the end of my bed, I can wake up in the morning with all of my toes intact.
2. Tea. I am now accustomed to at least five cups of tea a day. Tea at breakfast, 11:00, lunch, 4:30, dinner, and on occasion late-night dessert. Tea not only serves at a much-need pick-me-up for the weary soul, but also as an efficient hand warmer. I may, however, need counseling for caffeine addiction when I return to the States.
3. Smartwool. I found, today, after yet another circulation sucking Reynaud’s attack that if I undress my foot, roast my toes for a few minutes by the fire, then quickly shove my warmed sole into a Smartwool sock and then into my fur-lined boots, I can stay quite comfortably warm for a while. However, Smartwool+cold feet=colder feet.
