Moment of Impact

Hey, look, it's my students! (More specifically, mine are blurry in the back.) Sometimes I have a hard time remembering I've only been their teacher for three weeks because I love these students so much already. I've learned all their names, and have read fascinating letters of introduction from each of them. I have students who have come from so many different backgrounds, and I get the opportunity to teach them about story mountain all in one room. For the most part, these kids are excited to learn, and I'm delighted to teach them. The highlights of my days come after the last bell rings and one of my seventh period students wants to continue our conversation about the motives of murder in a short story or the conclusions we draw based on indirect characterization in a cliffhanger.

The learning environment at BFA is incredible. The value for education is not all that impresses me about these students; they are also eager to grow in maturity and be world changers. This week was Spiritual Emphasis Week, and we took ten minutes out of every class period to start each day with chapel. A swell Irishman flew all the way from Arkansas to talk to these kids this week about how they can partner with God to write their own stories.

Anticipation ran high through the school Monday and Tuesday as the students prepared for the first ever Impact Day at Black Forest Academy. Similar to my experience as a student at Multnomah, the school took a day off of instruction to reach out to the community on Wednesday, and I had the privilege of serving alongside a group of my students as we weeded a patio at a local church and mission office.

We were back in class on Thursday a little sore from serving but filled with joy from impacting our community. Friday night, the chaplains closed out Spiritual Emphasis Week with a special worship night where students were given the opportunity to take a stake of wood to write moments of their past on as physical representations of significant markers in their lives. At the end of the service, students and staff filed up to grab one more stake of wood as a reminder that they could partner with God as authors of their own stories and write something new on it that they would work towards accomplishing in their lives.

I'm so excited about the story God and I are writing with my life.

What will your story be?

Milestones Matter

Just before I graduated from the MAT program at Multnomah, the program director made a point to tell all the graduates that milestones matter. Graduation was a significant moment in my life.

Today was another huge milestone for me: I survived my first day teaching.

In some ways I feel like it doesn't really count because I only had eight minute class periods, barely enough time to take roll and hear each kid tell me an interesting fact about themselves. However, I'm sure I'll never forget my first opening ceremony at BFA. It was incredible to hear the parents and students cheer as the flags of the nations represented at the school were walked into the auditorium. Part of the morning gathering included a "roll call" of the nations as a staff member listed off the names of passport countries and parents' countries of service while students stood at the mention of their country. Students at BFA this year come from nearly sixty different countries around the world. 

During my eight minute class periods with my freshmen, I asked them to share their names and an interesting fact about themselves. A large number of them could just share their country of birth and it was different than anyone else in the room. It was barely a taste of English class, but I was so happy to finally put faces to the students I've been longing to teach. I'm equally as excited to teach my Spiritual Formation class as these students and I figure out what the title of the course means over the next couple of days and create a curriculum to meet their needs.

The Garni Girls got together for a picture at school on our first day!

One of the best things about today is that it did not stop being wonderful after I met my students. I was exhausted from those long teaching sessions, but Christine and I went to the grocery store and hauled up a load of goodies to make dinner for the rest of the house. Not only did I have the joy of meeting my students today, but I got to enjoy real Mexican food in Germany made with taco seasoning from America!

We paid a little extra for jalapenos, refried beans, and salsa from the American section of Hieber's, but Christine made the guac from scratch - and she rocked it.

I can't help but laugh at what an accomplishment our taco night was when that's perhaps one of the easiest meals to make in America. However, I was quite thankful for the opportunity to eat a food that's such a comfort at home. I'm so blessed that today was such a great milestone that I'll never forget, and even the little details of the day were perfect from my Longbottom coffee in the morning to the Trader Joe's soft baked snicker-doodles my Granny sent me this week.

I made it to BFA!

For those of you who aren't on Facebook and didn't get a chance to see this video already, I want to extend my thanks for all your prayers and support. I am so thankful to be here!

Gamma Gamma Garni

I arrived in Kandern two weeks ago today and just got home internet this afternoon. What a strange feeling to be dropped in a foreign country without immediate access to the news and updates from my friends, particularly those back in the states. Several generous new friends opened their doors for me and my housemates to come over and use their wifi, but it was always weighed against the realization we had to hike back up our hill after checking our email... Sometimes it just wasn't worth the walk; I read instead.

I've always loved reading and choose to spend a lot of my time reading, but in the last two weeks, I finished six books in all the free time I had without the internet. While I definitely had moments of longing to message or Skype friends back home, the last two weeks gave me a chance to really be present where I am in every moment. I want to preserve that liberating feeling of not being tied to a device (other than my e-reader).

There have been hours for me to hang out in my fabulous reading nook and recharge through reading, and I've had opportunity to spend time getting to know my amazing housemates.

You may not have a chance to meet them all face to face, but I promise you, these are some of the most amazing women I've ever met. It's going to be quite an experience living with seven busy teachers; so far we've had plenty of laughter as we figure out living habits and how to share one kitchen (well, plus a mini kitchen on the garden floor). Were you to walk into our home on a lazy afternoon, you might find Sandra and Christine on the garden floor in our second living room laughing loudly at something hysterical one or the other has said. Or they could be up on the main floor in our spacious living room with Hanna or Julie (our temporary tenant). In fact, the three of them might be on "Hanna duty" making sure our one true extrovert is never by herself for too long. Ahna would already have been on a run through the Kandern hiking trails with our neighbor Jessie, but she might be joining in the fun as well. Johanna and Dayla will be around, possibly practicing violin or viola upstairs in their rooms. Were you to venture up to that top floor, you'd likely find me tucked in the reading nook where a couple housemates abandoned comfy chairs for me to plop into with a book. Well, I'd likely be there if I wasn't downstairs enjoying quality time with the Garni girls.

Between the seven year long residents of the Garni, we teach in five departments, cover all three campuses of BFA (actually, Christine covers all three by herself), and are brought together by one passion of serving TCKs here in Germany.

We're halfway through our new teacher orientation, and all of us are getting a little antsy for school to start. I've already registered at the Rathaus as a resident of Kandern, opened my German bank account (almost set up the online banking part), met with the English department head, saw my classroom, and set up my desk. All I need now is some students to fill my classroom! Okay, I still have a long way to go - especially considering I just found out this afternoon that I'll be teaching one section of Spiritual Formation. I've got to set up the desks in the classroom (they're all stacked in the back), I've got to submit my lesson plans for English 9, I've got to meet the Bible department head, and I've got to figure out what the curriculum for Spiritual Formation is.

But on the students note, I have had the blessing of meeting three of my freshman girls already. It was so much fun to get to put a couple faces to the previously nameless void of my English class. The first student I met is the daughter of my BFA "host" who's helped me transition to living here in Kandern. I had dinner with their family my first week here, and heard about how she's grown up in Germany as her parents serve on the leadership for GEM.

The second student I met is new to BFA this year. Her parents are going to be dorm parents at the school, and they've just moved from Thailand. She came along to our picnic on the Rhine this afternoon. While walking home from orientation after a full day today, a returning BFA teacher stopped to introduce me to some students; one of them happened to be yet another freshman. She's just come here with her parents from Ireland and will be the last of seven kids in her family to attend BFA.

And now that you've read through another action filled post, I'll reward you with some photos of my recent adventures.

Outside my bedroom window looks a lot like home.

I told you the living room was amazing - we can see the whole town!

My host took me and some of the Garni girls to Kaysersberg the first weekend I was here.

It was an amazing view from the top of the tower - and I inspected the stones on my way down after I enjoyed the view as per Tolkien's advice.

Walking through this French town felt a little like going through Disneyland; it was surreal to think I was actually in France.

I'm so glad to know I can get Pop-Tarts at the local grocery store if I'm willing to pay $8.68 US dollars.

This is my first ice cream cone in years! The ice cream store owner's wife has food allergies; he gets me.

Johanna invited me to sleep out on her balcony one night.

This is what I woke up to in the morning. Can you see the sun lighting up the trees rimming the town?

This is my very own desk - complete with Wyatt's smiling face and a Tina doodle to remind me of home.

And now, as thankful as I am for internet, I'll be heading to bed soon, ready for another full day of orientation tomorrow.

A Long Way from Longbottom

There's a fantastic coffeeshop in Hillsboro called Longbottom Coffee. It's my favorite coffeeshop not just because it's name comes from a Tolkien novel, and not just because they make amazing coffee, but also because they have an amazing view of Hillsboro from their small store seating area. I love sitting on the comfy couch with my giant mocha looking out on the green hills of my small town (or behind me at the employees lounging around seen through the window from the store to the warehouse).
Longbottom is a fantastic place to relax and take in the beauty of creation; it's the best place I know of in Hillsboro.

My new living room is even better. The past two mornings my body has decided to get me wake me up around 4:30am because surely that's no time for sleeping soundly. Unable to fall asleep, I've grabbed a Trader Joe's instant coffee pack and made my way down the marble staircase from my top floor bedroom to the kitchen on the floor below to boil some water for my coffee. I took the coffee into the spacious living room with large windows overlooking the town and watched as the sunlight reached over the hills in the east to lighten up the brightly painted houses in the valley.
For now you'll just have to take my word for it on how beautiful the view really is because I haven't had the sense of mind to actually take a picture of it to post. I haven't really taken any pictures yet, and I do apologize, but, in my defense, it's been a whirlwind of a week getting here.

After my farewell open house on Friday night, I spent my last Saturday in the states the same way I spent every Saturday from when I was four through when I was twenty - I went to breakfast with my dad. I thought I was composed enough to make it through church on Sunday, but all my plans of not crying fell out the window when I parked. I started tearing up in the parking lot realizing that seven years ago Westport didn't exist, but I was part of the team that helped launch it. Now we have a building - I didn't have to get there two hours early to set up my Port classroom, and I didn't have to stay late to pack everything back into the Grover's car. Instead I showed up early to catch a few more friends before they left from the first service and stayed late to give one last hug to one of the few people who's stuck around as long as me. (He's also the person who made me cry most that day - thanks a lot, Jamie.)
I went to lunch with a group of my students, and enjoyed the time laughing with those kids one more time. Next, I hunted down Jen and Dave who had to bolt from service without seeing me and spent time with them before running home for a final LAD meeting where Amanda and Desiree helped me weed out a few of my books from my three stuff suitcases. Okay, so it was like a banker's box full that they got me to take out.
I left from there to go to my final FUEL event and watched my kiddos play kickball before Sarah met me to go to dinner. She let me choose the place, and I got to have my last dinner in the states at Juan Colorado. Even though she was doubtful of the dessert that was deep frozen ice cream rolled in cornflakes and dunked in a fryer, she ended up loving the fried ice cream as much as I do.
Once we got back to my house, Sarah opened my three suitcases and confidently told me that we could get it down to two - underweight. The next four hours were a painful process of eliminating books, clothes, and a few heavy items - I left every mug behind.
And we're not even to the travelling yet. Ready? Let's go!
Monday morning at 7 am, my parents, Sarah, and I loaded the two full suitcases, carry on, and my backpack into the car with the empty suitcase just in case anything unforeseen happened at the airport. We drove to Tacoma where we had lunch and coffee with Cat before getting to the SeaTac airport at 3pm. Eight hours into my trip, we finally made it to the airport! Sarah walked up to the kiosk to check me in, and the employee weighed by checked bags which each had half a kilo to spare before asking me if I had a carryon. I told her my small duffel was my carryon and my backpack was my laptop case. She politely informed me that was not okay and I would have to remove my laptop from the backpack and leave it behind. She also said my duffel weighed too much to take on the plane. Sarah calmly pulled heavy items out of the duffel to put in the checked bags, and I frantically took my laptop out of the backpack and started stuffing clothes and food from the other bag into it to replace the weight.
I made it through security fine, and didn't even panic when my 10.5 hour flight to Frankfurt started boarding half an hour late, eating up a third of my layover. I calmly walked aboard my first international flight to discover all the nice flight attendants speaking German. I realized I was already outside my comfort zone, but I made my way to my aisle seat to discover an older woman occupying it. I told her I thought she was in my seat to which she rudely responded, "No. Find another seat. They have already moved me twice. Go away." Panicked, I showed my seat number to a flight attendant who waved me to the middle section. "Sit in that row," she said nonchalantly, "Just sit in the middle one." So much for my nice aisle seat.
I wrenched my knee getting in to the seat, but once able to buckle the belt, I didn't stand up again until we landed in Frankfurt. As we began our descent, the flight attendant announced that due to our delay several passengers had already been rebooked on new flights and those going to another list of connections would have to rush to make their connecting flight. Naturally, the connection to Basel was one that I had to rush to.
After nearly 11 hours seated, I found my knee did not respond well to weight of any kind put on it, but I ignored the pain and powered through to a massive security line. I walked to an employee and held out my ticket asking, "Will I be able to make my flight?" He looked at the ticket and confirmed I was travelling alone before letting me cut to the front of the line. Flustered, I pulled my laptop out of the case, placed my carryon after it on the conveyor belt and walked through when the waved me forward without a chance to empty my pockets. Of course I set off the alarm and I'm sure the employees thought I was the dumbest person to go through the line that hour (I'm assuming they get several people a day flustered because they're about to miss their flights... I'm hoping at least). After being released from security once they confirmed the metal bookmark in my backpack was not a knife (thanks, Jen), I hurried on to the long line at customs. I made small talk with the couple who flew in from LA and were about to miss their connection to Prague. I prayed that the line would move faster. I fidgeted as the stern faced employees checked passports and tickets. I finally made it to the counter and discovered there was no need for worry. With just a quick look at my photo and my face, the kind German customs man put the first stamp in my passport. I didn't have to answer any questions or be delayed any more. He directed me how to get to my gate, and I booked it through the massive duty free store to make it panting to my gate.
The kind woman asked me politely if I was going to Basel. I said yes. She asked me if I was from Helsinki. I panicked. "No, I'm from Seattle," I said as soon as I remembered that's where I flew from, not Portland. The other flight attendant said that I was from Seattle at the same time, so I felt a little better. She scanned my ticket and let me through the gate. I followed a doorway to a hallway to a tunnel and started to panic again - where was my plane? It was leaving in less than half an hour, and I was lost in a tunnel!
I came to a bus in front of a man with a yellow vest. "Basel?" I asked. He nodded, and I got on the empty bus save one American business man. "Are you going to Basel?" I asked. "Yes." "Are we flying?" "Yes." "Okay. Good." I sat down and caught my breath. "Are we going to make it?" He looked at his watch and told me we'd be fine. We sat there for another ten minutes as a few more people loaded the bus.
Finally, the driver boarded, and we left the tunnel and entered the tarmac. Big, fat raindrops bombarded the bus, and the driver swore as he was assaulted by wind and rain when he opened the door. (I laughed inside when the one naughty German word I know was the first one I heard in Germany.) I plowed through the sheets of rain up the stairs into the plane and found my seat near the back of the tiny jet. I plopped into my seat and checked the time - 4:12. The flight was scheduled to depart at 4:15, and I'd made it. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Once my sigh was out, the pilot announced that the entire Frankfurt airport was closed indefinitely due to the thunderstorm. We sat there in the pressurized cabin for an hour before actually beginning our half hour flight to Basel.
Once I exited the plane, I knew I needed to get my bags and leave out the French exit - NOT THE SWISS - where my ride would pick me up. I followed the signs with pictures of bags that everyone else seemed to be following and was assaulted by a red hallway with a white cross that boldly told me WELCOME TO SWITZERLAND. I turned around and looked for any other hallway that might welcome me to France, but, seeing no other way out, followed everyone else to baggage claim. I discovered once we got to the baggage carousels that there were exits from there leading to France or Switzerland. I picked up my two suitcases and walked towards the French doors expecting them to lead me to another line where I'd have to answer questions about the contents of my bags. Instead, I stepped in the green lane with nothing to declare, and walked through the doors to France were Dani immediately stepped out and said, "Laura?" I was so relieved, exhausted, and smelly, that I weakly smiled my reply confirming she was my ride.

Now do you feel a little more okay with me forgetting to take pictures? Thanks. I do hope to share some soon, but it may take me a few days before my body knows when to wake up and when to pull my camera out to document the beauty around me.

Farewell, Portlandia

I love Portland. I always have; I always will. I'm pretty sure I'll love Kandern as well, but before I get there I have a few goodbyes to make. This past week has been full of farewells as I spend time making visits to people and places I love that I won't see for quite a while.

Last Sunday I started the week with a downtown adventure with two friends. I hopped on the MAX to visit Saturday Market, Stumptown, and Powells one more time.

I have Hillsboro to Gresham at my fingertips.
(Though who would go as far as Gresham?)

Enjoying my elephant ear at Saturday Market.

I'll miss the delicious Stumptown drinks.

I had such a hard time not buying more books!

After my Sunday adventure, I had a week filled with spending time with people I love. I had the chance to sit down and have lunch or coffee with several different good friends who I don't often see, and I got to spend a couple nights having dinner with Westport families who I will dearly miss. It's hard to pick a highlight from such an amazing week, but it wasn't over with just that. 

The two women most influential in forcing me to be open to the idea of teaching overseas kidnapped me for a night to spend some time away in Seaside before I launch on the adventure they jumpstarted. I got to spend two days with the most amazing women on the planet, and I got to ride a shark. It was awesome.

I am incredibly blessed, and I don't want to forget that for a minute. This last week, actually, most of this summer, has reminded me of how spoiled I am to be surrounded by such loving people who care about me as a person. Talking with friends at the Westport picnic today reminded me that I won't have that network of support so close to me when I move to Germany. As I say farewell to Portland and the friends here, I know that I'll still be in touch with them over the internet, but I'll need to develop new relationships with people who can go out to coffee with me, nerd out in giant bookstores, and laugh with me when I fall off mechanical sharks. 

That adventure will begin in just a week now. I'm at 90% of my monthly support, and I just need $200 a month more to reach 100%. My departure date is August 5th, and I can't wait to get to Kandern and share with you the next steps on my journey in Germany - the ones where I finally arrive!

Family Legacy

I love attending memorial services for family members on the Hewett side of my family; I'm dead serious.

Hear me out.

In my experience, the memorial service for a Hewett is a celebration of a life well lived in service for the Kingdom as well as a gathering of amazing people who are excited about great work God is doing across the world. My uncle's memorial service today was no exception.

I got to listen to stories for nearly an hour of how much Uncle Vance loved to help other people. One of the ways he helped people was through the second hand store he founded to support the families he met on the field in Peru. I even learned that his years of service in Peru have had such a lasting impact that he's been honored by the government. I didn't get to spend a lot of time with my uncle when I was growing up, but I remember him inviting me to come with him on a trip to Peru when I was in junior high. Serving people in Peru was a huge part of his life.

Not only did I get to hear about the work my uncle started which is being continued by his family, but I got to see my great aunt who has spent years of her life serving in Uganda with Africa Village Ministries. Aunt Marie is one of the most inspirational people in my life. God has given her a job to do on this earth, and she will not rest until it is completed. She is so full of love and passion, and I hope that I am just like her when I reach my 70s.

My great aunt, my uncle, and I make three generations of missionaries in the Hewett family, but we're not done there. After the memorial service today, I had the joy of listening to my cousin's fifteen year old daughter, Ruth, share about her recent mission trip to the Philippines. She found out her grandpa passed away while she was on the trip and just arrived back in the states two days ago. Even though she wasn't able to come back and tell her grandpa about all that she did on her trip, she was still brimming with excitement about the deaf children she had fallen in love with and eagerly shared about to me.

As I sit in the middle of this generational legacy of missionaries, I think about the one relative that ties us all together and his love for missions. My grandpa Frank (Marie's brother, Vance's father, and Ruth's great-grandpa) wanted to go on the mission field, but MAF rejected him as missionary while accepting his friends Nate and Marj. Praise the Lord! Instead of being on the field with Nate, my grandpa faithfully financially supported him. In fact, I found this handwritten thank you note Nate sent my grandpa while serving in Ecuador. 

I'm blessed to be going to Germany, but I need a team of people faithfully praying for me and supporting me financially. I'm hoping to move in three weeks, but I still need to raise a little over 40% of my monthly support. With just five people stepping up to say, "I can give $100 a month;" five who say, "I can give $50 a month;" and ten who say, "I can give $25 a month" I would reach my monthly goal. 

While I'm on full disclosure here, the thank you notes I send you are not as likely to become as valuable as this one. The odds of my life becoming a movie or a book are very slim; the odds of my story being as remotely famous as Nate Saint's are even smaller. Full disclosure again - I'm not in it for the fame and glory. Earlier this week I got to spend some time with two of the Gaston English teachers that I worked with last year, and I was reminded how much I love education. I get excited about changing students lives through learning, and I want you to be a part of that as I teach the students at Black Forest Academy. You can be part of this legacy.