2 years: paddling in a bathtub

Today is our 2yr anniversary of moving here to Germany. There's a fingerpainted expression of emotions in the air, lots of colors and shapes.

At one point in my life I spent five summers paddling outrigger canoes on the New England coast. I fell into it looking for a cheaper alternative to Boston's expensive rowing clubs. My club was comprised of a lot of 'ex-pat' Hawaiians who worked in NE and joined me in a desire to just get out on the water. Paddling in NE is considered flatwater canoeing compared to the big waves in Hawaii, but there were some days when the water was far from flat.

Often the sounds of the big motor boats and gusts of breeze that would be pushing hundreds of sailboats triggered some anxiety before I even parked my car. "It's going to be like paddling in a bathtub today" one of the crew would say. "But, hey, at least we have good weather, that's why everybody else is out!" another voice would add. Still, we all secretly pitied whoever would end up having to steer in water that would be full of so much traffic with choppy waves coming from every direction. We also knew these were prime conditions for a huli, when the boat would unexpectedly flip and we'd be soaked and struggling. (We were always slow in our huli drills.)

It was on days like this I'd be sitting in my usual 4 or 5 seat and spend the entire practice just chopping at the water with my paddle, like a machine. A machine who's heart would stop every time the ama lifted out of the water or the boat tilted to the right a little too much. Those were the draining days of paddling, where halfway into it you wished you'd skipped practice that day or at least ask why you put yourself through it. When 6 people paddle a canoe and you go almost nowhere, thanks to the choppy conditions, everybody gets really frustrated. When you finally find a safe cove to pull into and stop for a water break, everybody's so cranky that nobody's talking.

When practice is over and you're rinsing your gear behind your car in the parking lot, you shake your head and think it how it was a pretty crummy practice. But then you think, well at least I got out there, I burned some calories and got to be on the water. It was fun seeing that one sailboat go by too, the one with the family on it and the kids in their giant orange life jackets squealing in delight. Being on the water made it worth it, but you're hoping for better conditions next time.

Living in Germany for the past two years has felt very much like paddling in a bathtub. Finding pastor jobs has been discouraging, hope of futher studies for Stefan has been discouraging, finding work for me has been discouraging, still dealing with the financial repurcussions of moving here with zero in the bank account is frustrating, and feeling like a square peg in a round hole regarding church life has just been the icing on the cake.

BUT WE ARE HERE! Doggone it we made the next step we believed we were supposed to make and we're basically sitting tight until we hear we're supposed to do otherwise. It is kind of nuts. The other day Stefan said, "I'd rather have a clear vision of what to do with my life than a new ktichen." and I agreed. But we both prayed about whether we were supposed to make this move and take on the physical, financial, and long-term issues it would entail, and although we both didn't know why, we both felt we were supposed to. We've enjoyed the blips of helping Stefan's mom out and enjoying seeing her and Ronja more often. Seeing Frank has been good too, as has been our involvement with our small group Bible study.

Packing up our books, Stefan sadly voiced a thought that was already in my own mind, "Look at all these great books you have from your past work experiences and training. We're packing them up again and you haven't used them since we moved here. I wonder if you'll ever get to use them again." I wonder too. I need to find a niche here to work in. Everything here requires German certification and official documentation. And fluent German. My freelance work is too irregular to count on and my heart isn't in that kind of work anyhow. I do wonder where we'll be a year from now. Likely enjoying the chocolate on our new neighbor's stairs and feeling more settled, maybe with a clearer vision. Last year's milestone was more about marking the differences, and this year is more wondering what to do. We have the distinct feeling that we're not settled. Like Hamlet says in my favorite Shakespeare play "the time is out of joint". We'll just keep on keepin' on I suppose.

Today is our 2yr anniversary of moving here. Upon reflection it's as if we're in a new beginning even now, 2 years later. But there are also days when I just want to throw in the towel and hightail it back to...what? Some sort of imaginary concoction of past joys. Today is HERE and we will live it.