Severin to Timisoara

Tonight, instead of looking at Serbia, I'm looking at the city of Timisoara. I have a very nice view of it, because I have a balcony, and the weather is warm enough (not warm, but warm enough) for me to sit on it, and the flat that I rented is pretty much right in the heart of the city. That's where I am now, here's what the day looked like:

I had the best of intentions of being out to see the sights of Severin by 7am. But having a warm, comfortable hotel room all to myself proved hard to resist. I got rolling a little more slowly, and finally got down to eat breakfast at about 7:30. My breakfast was included in the cost of my room, but I had no idea what to do. The American in me was half-expecting a serve-yourself breakfast like I'm used to, but I opened some giant metal serving trays in the breakfast area and found nothing. Embarrassing. I then took my seat and waited for a waitress, which was apparently what I was supposed to do.



a very safe place to take a selfie, because there was nobody around

After breakfast, I tried to be a tourist. I think I was the only tourist in the entire town, actually. I went to a tourist spot and found literally nobody, and I went to where a museum was supposed to be and found nobody there either (and no museum entrance, either, for that matter). I took loads of pictures at the one spot (the walls and tower of a medieval citadel) and otherwise mostly settled for just walking around. This was still fun except I wore shoes I shouldn't have worn and got a blister that has made walking a bit less appealing overall...

 medieval citadel

small memorial in the park, to victims of Romanian communism

 After packing up and leaving my perfect room, I managed to catch the right train to take me to Timisoara. No friendly young companion this time, but an older man did help me with my suitcase. I didn't get a window seat this time, which was hard for me, but I still had a decent view of some gorgeous scenery. Yesterday's train ride was nowhere near as scenic as today's! The sun came out during the journey, which was the first I'd seen of it, and I took a picture of that too.



Sunshine!  And sheep!
 

foggy and beautiful

I was embarrassed to take pictures,
until I saw that the Romanian girl
across from me was taking more

I've decided that the scariest parts of my trip are when I arrive in a new city and have to get my bearings. My airbnb host, Ioan, had told me to take a cab from the train station. I've only taken a cab a handful of times in my life, and never in Romania, and have been warned about taxi scams here, so I was crazy nervous. But God provided an honest driver, who only charged 9 lei (just over 2 dollars) and he got me here safe and sound. Ioan met me at the door of the building, and I was thrilled to learn that the building has an elevator (I was preparing myself to carry my suitcase up 6 flights of stairs).

Ioan was another blessing. His flat is beautiful, and he was excited to tell me about all the places to see here (I'm already wishing I had more than 2 days!) We also talked about the history of this area a little (this part of Romania has only been part of Romania since WWI), and about the current immigration crisis in Europe and how it's perceived in the states, and we even got to talk about the Bible. He's not a Christian, and said he has concerns that there are so many different translations of the Bible, but that he wants to do more research because it seems crazy to live life without a purpose, just to work to make money to buy things. I've been so encouraged this whole trip about how the message of God's word is consistent, even across languages and translations, so it was perfect timing for that convo. I had lots to say and he was super engaged, and I'm hoping to get to follow up more with him later.

one of many gorgeous parts of Piata Unirii

I explored the city very briefly this evening, before meeting a woman named Dawn for dinner. Dawn works for Greater Europe Mission, the organization I had hoped to partner with 7-8 years ago, and I'd emailed her weeks ago in the hopes of connecting while I'm here. She works with children with disabilities here in the city, which was so cool to hear about. We ate delicious pizza, and she put me to shame with how well she speaks Romanian. It is so sweet how easy it is to connect with other believers I've never met. We talked for awhile, and when I got back to my place, she called me to make sure I was doing okay and to make sure I have connections in other cities since she knows people elsewhere as well. I feel so very cared for!

Dawn and I after a satisfying dinner of pizza and lemonade

I walked back after dark, barely missing the before-sunset curfew that I've set for myself during this travel-alone portion of my trip, but I felt very safe. Not naively safe, but cautiously safe. :-) Tomorrow, I will try to go to Dawn's church or another, and I have about half a million other must-see spots that I need to narrow down. There are so many beautiful buildings here, and so much history – I know I won't be able to cover even a fraction of it! And since I haven't sat in a coffee shop since March 4^th, that definitely needs to happen soon as well!

Ok, that's all for now! Until next time...

An Excellent Day

Tonight, I am looking at Serbia. Kind of a fun thing to say. My hotel room here in Drobeta Turnu-Severin has an amazing view complete with red-roofed buildings, the Danube river, the shores of Serbia in the background, and beautiful flowering trees in the foreground. Apparently this town is known for its gorgeous parks, and I can see why...but I get ahead of myself.

the view from my hotel room window

I don't think today could have gone any more perfectly.  To begin with, I met at the church in Draganesti at 8 am for prayer with some of the women, and it was such a sweet time. There were some ladies I've already met – the pastor's wife and daughter, and a Canadian-Romanian woman named Dorothy, but there were also some older ladies from the church. They meet every weekday from 8-9 to pray, but Fridays are specifically devoted to giving thanks. We each thanked God for His work this past week, then took turns reading from the Psalms. Then we sang some songs, and they invited me to share a testimony of God's faithfulness. It was so sweet to see ladies who were strangers at 8am be no-longer-strangers by 8:45. The pastor's daughter, Veronica, who is about my age, invited me to join her in some house visits with 2 other American missionaries who had just gotten to town. Before I could do that, though, the pastor came down and invited me to their weekly staff meeting upstairs. I got to introduce myself to everyone, tell about my history (and possible future!) with ministry in Romania, and they prayed for me. Then I hurried back to the missions house to clean up and pack before meeting Veronica (Vera) and one of the American missionaries, Bob (Can you think of any name more American than Bob?).

Bob, Vera, and I went to the house of a man named Vasile. He lives with 8 other members of his family in 2 very small rooms composing a tiny house. He has learned a lot about Christ and Christianity and has had many conversations with local believers, but had not yet turned to Him in faith. While I mostly prayed and tried to keep his very friendly and inquisitive granddaughter quiet using my limited Romanian vocabulary, Bob and Vera walked Vasile through several passages. By the end of the conversation, Vasile had a new understanding about new birth in Christ, and his prayer at the end of the convo seemed to indicate that a new birth took place! Time will tell if his belief is genuine, but it was an extremely encouraging morning!



Marcel waiting with me at the train station

Ah, so much to say about today! After all of that, we rushed back to the church so I could eat a quick lunch of salmale (a Romanian specialty!) before catching my train. I was nervous about this but so thankful that one of the men from the ministry, Marcel, took me to the train station. He was cheerful and friendly, carried my suitcase, and waited with me in the rain for the train to come while making jokes about the stray dogs having a very important meeting across the tracks. Once I got on the train, I tried speaking Romanian but apparently it was obvious that it wasn't my native language. Sigh. :) A friendly passenger nearby asked if I spoke English or German (Ugh, I WISH I could speak 3 languages like he can!) and was my helper for the rest of the trip. He was so kind and made the trip a lot of fun, and I was especially thankful for a strapping young man to hoist my heavy suitcase up onto the luggage rack. :) I wish I took his picture, he was such a blessing.



View from the train - that's the front of my train on the right

The journey was beautiful – I wasn't bored once – and my arrival here was pretty seamless. I had to catch my breath at the train station when I realized that the 9 minute walk to my hotel through a park, which seemed so pleasant when I'd read about it, was actually 9 minutes through a park...and up a hill. I was exhausted when I got to my hotel, after lugging all my things up steps and slopes, but it was worth it. I love this hotel, and this city so far. My evening journey on foot to find dinner ended with just a lot of touristy pictures, and no dinner at all, but I found a peach nectar drink in the mini-fridge and ate some crackers and peanut butter from home. I'm glad they made me eat a lot of salmale at lunchtime!

just a tiny taste of the beautiful flowers all over this town

a memorial of some kind.  I don't really understand what it says, but it is right next to my hotel

That's all for tonight, I'm going to gaze out the window at the river and at Serbia a little bit more, and then it's early to bed for me!

making a strange face because the lion is making a strange face

 

Draganesti-Olt

the stairs in the mission house - I'm staying on the 2nd floor

Right now, I am sitting in a big empty house.  Until today, it has been filled with my team of 3 other chaperones, a mission project leader, and 14 high-schoolers.  Until today, I've shared my room with 3 energetic teenage girls.  But now, I just watched all of those people pull away in a bus bound for Bucharest, and I'm entering the going-it-alone phase of my trip. As the pastor here said this afternoon, now I'm "Home Alone." 

view from the bedroom window

My heart is so full after 4 days of worship, prayer, and ministry here in Draganesti.  It was incredible to watch my passion for Romania begin to take root in some of these students.  It seems simultaneously completely strange to be back here, and at the same time oddly normal.  After months of preparation and two long plane rides, I still got to Bucharest thinking, "is that all it took to get here?  What took me so long?"  I love being surrounded by the language again, and seeing many things I loved about Romania before that are still true even in this different region and 9 years later.  There are still horse-pulled carts.  There are still cobblestone streets.  There are still roosters crowing.

distributing seeds and church invitations in a Draganesti neighborhood

Most encouraging of all though, there is still an incredible God working through Romanian believers to do wonderful things.  We were here to partner with a church called Biserica Speranta (Hope Church), and our role was mostly just to come alongside the things they were already doing, to join in their ministries after spending time each morning praying for various people, projects, and partners.  We got to do a prayer walk around a university in the nearby city of Craiova.  We got to pass out New Testaments in neighborhoods and parks in that same city.  We got to pass out seeds for people to plant in their gardens here in Draganesti, along with invitations to worship at the church.  We got to pray with people.  We got to pray over new opportunities that the church has, such as purchasing a small furniture-building shop that could help finance their work here.  Some of our team got to do children's ministry and ministry to widows in the community. 

having my hair done by a neighborhood girl at the soccer field,
with lots of interruptions from this little guy

My favorite day was yesterday.  It was cold and rainy, which meant lots of changes to our plans.  I and two of the students got to shadow some local missionaries named Octavian and Nicoleta.  We were dropped off at their home, where we drank coffee (my first since London!) and ate chocolate and learned about them and prayed for them.  I instantly felt connected with them and loved spending time with them.  Then we went to the nearby village of Maruntei.  This dear couple has a heart for this village and is hoping to plant a church there.  We got to do follow-up visits to some non-believing families who had come to some church events recently, and the plan was to gather in a local widow's home for a Bible study with some villagers later that afternoon.  Things didn't go as planned (the woman wasn't home, her gate was locked, and other participants in the Bible study couldn't come because of the weather), but God's plan for the day was pretty incredible.  I was inspired by Tavi and Nicoleta's perseverance, their joy in serving the Lord, and the relationships that they are building. It was an amazing thing to be a part of. We got to pray for and with some of the people of Maruntei, and I was invited to sing a song while sitting at a stranger's kitchen table and to share about a time in my life where God was faithful through hard times.  At one point in our Maruntei adventures, when we were locked out of the widow's house and had no place to go, we went to a mechanic's garage, where we'd visited earlier, to take shelter.  We were invited up into the attic, where they happened to have a ton of dried corn that we helped get off the cob with a weird tool.  We then went back downstairs and drank a delicious pink hot tea while talking to the people who live and work there.  It was one of the most eclectic afternoons I can remember!

cold, rainy, wonderful ministry in Maruntei.  From left to right: Logan from our team, Nicoleta, Octavian (Tavi)

This morning,our team gathered around the Romanian team ministering here and prayed for them. There were many tears - we have all been so encouraged by these faithful men and women.



This blog is already far too long, thanks for reading this long if you did.  This afternoon and evening I will likely lay low here at the missions house, with a quick trip to the train station at some point to work out my train ticket for tomorrow, and a quick stop at a nearby restaurant that I enjoyed eating lunch at the other day.  Tomorrow I'm excited to join the ladies of the church for their morning prayer time, then will head by train to a town called Drobeta Turnu Severin (try saying that 3 times fast) for the first stop on my whirlwind solo tour.  I appreciate everyone's prayers as I travel alone - I'm excited but naturally a bit nervous as well!



sunset from the soccer field in Draganesti

Returning to Romania

I haven't blogged in 11 months, but today seems like a good day to start again.  I love the idea of blogging while I travel, but I don't know yet if that will be realistic, so here is Blog Post #1 of 1 or maybe more related to this trip to Romania.

11 years ago, I took my first trip to Romania.  10 years ago, I went again.  9 years ago, I went again.  8 years ago, I was pursuing the idea of moving there long-term, of being a full-time missionary in the country I had grown to love so deeply.  For a variety of reasons, that didn't happen, and so now, by God's providential mercies, I get to go again to a place that I haven't stopped thinking about for 9 long years.

One of the things that I've thought much about these past few weeks is just how much has happened in 9 years:

When I last went to Romania, I wasn't even a music therapist yet, at least not officially.  I hadn't taken the board exam yet, hadn't gotten my certification, hadn't landed my first job, hadn't met my first client.  I hadn't yet experienced what came several years later, when music therapy in Arizona kind of fell apart and I had to make hard decisions about staying or going.

When I last went to Romania, I hadn't yet started dating the man I thought I would marry. I hadn't experienced all the sweet joys of that relationship with him.  I also hadn't yet endured the heartache that came when that relationship had to end.

When I last went to Romania, I hadn't yet walked through my 2-ish years of dark days, of a season of sadness in which, time and time again, God proved to be enough through stormy seas.

When I last went to Romania, I hadn't yet met either of the roommates who are now such an important part of my life.  Many others of the dear people in my life now had also not yet entered the scene.

When I last went to Romania, I had never even heard of the company where I work now.  I hadn't known the joys of being a part of that family, hadn't learned the million and one things that now make up my days, hadn't yet fallen in love with the 100+ faces who keep me doing what I do.

When I last went to Romania, I didn't have a brother-in-law, and I didn't have nephews.  My sister's engagement happened while I was there!

When I last went to Romania, I vividly remember the last night.  I remember crying as I said goodbye to friends there, knowing that I wanted to return and return soon, but knowing also that I couldn't know if that would happen or not.  I remember clinging to every last Romanian word I heard on the plane ride west.

So today, amidst excitement and anxieties about the trip, I am also overwhelmed with thankfulness.  I'm thankful for the God who is kind to His children.  I'm thankful He has not stopped working in me, has not stopped working in Arizona, has not stopped working in Romania. I'm thankful that His timing is perfect.  I'm thankful that his answer of "not yet" in 2008 was not a "never again."

I covet many prayers on this trip: that I would be safe, that I would be a help to the people I meet and to the students that I'm chaperoning for the first week, that I would trust the Lord when things don't go as planned, and, most of all, that I would honor my King, who is sending me back at long last!

West Fork Ramblings

Perhaps the most therapeutic thing this therapist could do on a rare day off from both of her jobs is to meander down a well-known and beautiful trail alone.  The West Fork Trail was an important part of my childhood and is now an important part of my adulthood.  I walked through that canyon time after time with my family, and with my Girl Scout troop, and now with friends both new and old throughout the years.  I have memories there with my grandparents not long before they died, and we also walked this very trail to scatter the ashes of my dear great-aunt.  I’ve seen it covered in icicles, and I’ve swum in its cool waters on warm summer days. 

Today, though, it is a perfectly Spring-y Spring day, and I go it alone. I go not with the intent of going far (I’m hiking alone, after all, which they say isn’t smart), but with the intent of sitting by a creek, which has been my highest goal on this otherwise-mostly-filled-with-tedious-tasks-“vacation.”  I feel silly at first, with my skinny jeans and freshly pedicured toes and girly flip-flops, carrying a bag-that-is-mostly-a-purse, and bringing only a small plastic water bottle that ends up leaking halfway through.  I cross paths with hiker after hiker in their boots and sneakers, wearing backpacks and hats and using walking sticks and canteens.   So yes, at first I feel silly, but then the mood changes.  I feel instead like a weathered veteran among novices.  I imagine to myself that all these others are from other states and countries, and consider that my native Arizonan feet are accustomed to this trail, to the slippery rocks and sandy shores.  I feel simultaneously old and young – old because unlike years ago I drove my car here, by myself, like a grown-up, on a week off from my two professional jobs, and because I have walked this trail maybe 20 times before.  Young, though, because there is a spring in my step and I feel carefree, and I quickly hop from stone to stone to cross the cool creek where it intersects the trail.  I’m briefly saddened by the effects of last year’s forest fire – there are charred logs in many places, and the foliage is much changed at the beginning of the trail – but am quickly cheered by how much hasn’t changed, and by the resilience of the forest. There is still green, everywhere!  The paradise that I’d feared would be destroyed forever has only been altered a bit, and its beauty is still astounding.  There is new life springing up already, too, and I’m reminded of the One who gives life abundantly.

After a couple creek crossings, I find a perfect spot by the water, just as I’d hoped.  I read a few chapters of a novel, I pray, I close my eyes and listen and rest.  I open them again and take pictures of the creek and of the trees and of my toes, which make standard appearances in all of my pictures of streams and oceans.  I watch a fly who gets caught in the current, I notice a butterfly in the sky above.  I notice, also, that some of the brown and grey that remains in the forest is not after-the-fire brown and grey, but is actually not-yet-fully-spring brown and grey, and that the trees are covered with tiny beginnings of bright green leaves.  I have my phone with me but am relieved that it doesn’t work in the canyon.  After a couple hours, it is time to go, and for once it isn’t because of a pressing to-do list or a scheduled meeting, but because the sun is getting lower, the canyon is getting darker, and it feels right to head back out.

I keep thinking, on the way out, about the familiarity of the trail, about the different landmarks that I’ve passed here during so many different seasons of life, about how the landmarks change but are in so many ways the same. I know the trail so well that I feel like even the flowers are in familiar places, though of course with the changing seasons they are different flowers than I’ve seen before. I’m again reminded of a God who gives life, who is constant through change, who alone can create beauty out of nothingness.  I think of how many people find Sedona to be spiritual in a new-agey sort of way, and how others may feel they are closer to God here.  I think of the God that doesn’t dwell in Sedona specifically but is omnipresent and has chosen to dwell in the hearts of men, and I’m thankful.

I’m thankful, too, because while it may be easier to reflect on God and on His nearness here, it is also good to be reminded that he is just as near when I am NOT on vacation.  He is near when I sit at my desk at work, fighting a never-ending battle with a to-do list that just keeps growing.  He is near when I battle against discouragement in conflict with our staff or in pressure from upper management.  He is near when anxiety rears its angry head again and I awake with an unwarranted sense of dread.  He is near when I ask hard questions about a future that looks different than I might have once hoped.  He is near when life is just plain hard.  He is just as near in those metaphorical valleys as He is in this luscious green one.

And yet…He does not reprimand me for needing reminders like this one, for needing a break from the tedium to better rest in Him.  He does not criticize the need for rest; no, He is the Lord of the Sabbath.  I think of Thomas, who would not believe until He placed his fingers in Jesus’ wounds, and I think of Jesus, who did not reprimand Thomas or force him to try harder to believe without seeing, but instead allowed him to see and to touch, and then commanded belief.  I think of how Jesus similarly has allowed me, today, to see what I needed to see.   I think of His kindness and am thankful for who He is, and for His choosing to lavish His love on me. 

Yes, I think today was just what I needed.

Too Many Needs

I'm an assistant manager of a day program for adults with disabilities.  My boss and I manage a group of 100 or so clients and 40 or so staff, who all come to 1 building with 6 classrooms, 5 days per week. The surprising thing is, there are many days where it isn't total chaos!  There are days where we kind of run like a well-oiled machine, where clients and staff alike are mostly compliant and positive and we manage this lovely little world full of amazing people.

And then there are days like today.

 I'm currently wearing two hats: my assistant manager hat, which I wear while overseeing programming for the whole building, and a room supervisor hat, which I wear while I oversee one classroom more directly until we hire someone to fill a vacant spot.  Today my assistant manager hat sat comfortably on my assistant manager desk, where I usually work from and have a little bit of quiet and peace, and many like-minded peers in neighboring cubicles.  I didn't get to wear that hat at all.  I wore the other hat all day long, and dove head-first into what felt like total chaos, with 3-4 of the normal 9 staff in that room absent all day.  I needed to direct staff who have grown accustomed to not receiving or responding to direction, and I needed to motivate clients who haven't had fresh ideas introduced in quite some time, and I needed to somehow ensure that everyone got to eat and use the restroom throughout the day, with fewer hands on deck than normal.

There were some lovely little moments - like taking one guy for a walk in gorgeous weather, and hearing him proclaim afterwards, "I took a walk with Krista!  Hey, I took a walk with Krista!"  And busting out a plastic bowling pin set and letting some of the guys take turns rolling a beach ball at them, and seeing how excited they were to do something so simple and yet new-to-them.

But then there were other moments.  Within a short period this afternoon, we had one client who was listening to her High School Musical 3 cd in headphones, and singing so loud that it was giving another client a headache and he was storming around, cursing and hitting things.  Meanwhile another client had stolen my cellphone and wouldn't give it back, and when I took him for a walk to see if that would help his mood, he laid down on a bench and refused to get up, after also trying to eat a rock.  Meanwhile another client had left the room and wouldn't come back until we gave him a magazine, which I didn't have available at the moment.  Meanwhile the other client who'd been singing loud, stormed out of the room and out the back door.  When I caught up to her, she was by another client who was saying "She spit on my neck," and although he was referring to someone else, she and I both thought he was talking about her, so she was angry at the false allegation and I was reprimanding her for improper behavior before I realized the misunderstanding, which understandably made her even more upset.

And in the midst of it all, I was overwhelmed not just by the immediate chaos, but by the larger picture of how desperately I want to train our staff and train them well, how many big picture changes I want to make.  I was also overwhelmed by the tremendous number of tasks, and of people, that I've neglected over the past several days as I try to tackle this room specifically.  And a computer with a bunch of open files and a desk covered with many piles of paper both pointed to the fact that even the tasks I was finally able to start were unable to be completed.  And at the end of the day, I learned sad news that adds to a long list of sad stories that have affected the people I work for and with in recent months.

I'd love to say that my heart was full of contentedness and joy and thankfulness as I calmly spoke truth to myself about who my God is amid the chaos.  Actually, my heart was a jumbled mess and I was irritable and trying desperately to not take it out on the many people who crossed my path.  But some truth did squeeze its way in there as I thought about a few key things:

1) My God is HUGE!  The cares and needs and misbehaviors of 140 people (yes, staff have poor behavior too) are, to me, too much to handle today.  They might not be too much to handle tomorrow, but today they are.  God cares for infinitely more people with infinitely more success and without even a hint of sin in His responses to their many offenses against him.  And where the burden of my own sadness and the sadness of people I love feels too heavy for me, He bears infinitely more burdens with no complaint.  He is truly unlike me.

2) I face big, hard days, often.  I MUST be in God's word each morning, because the stakes are high.  If I have any hope of handling a day like today in a way that honors Jesus, I had better spend some time with Him before I enter the battlefield.

And so, speaking of that, I need to go to bed.  Because tomorrow, I need to be up in time to read, and to pray,....and to stop for some really good coffee before Wednesday begins!

Starting up Again

I've been itching to blog again...but it's hard!  It's hard to find the time, it's hard to find the inspiration, it's mostly hard to find those two things at the same time!  It's also hard to jump right in with random ramblings like I used to when it's been over 2 years since I did an entry at all.

But...I think I'm going to try! Please, bear with me while I try my writing-for-fun hat on again.  It may take awhile to warm up :-)

I've been thinking a lot lately about how every big development starts with something small. Some examples:

How could I have known, when I was dropped off at my first piano lesson at age 7, that playing piano would become such an integral part of my life?  That I would one day audition in front of big scary judges and get into a music program, that I would end up teaching other people to play, that I would use piano-playing one day to make deep connections with people in therapy?  In childhood I may have cried out of frustration while practicing, but how could I have known that in my adulthood I would use that very same instrument to express something deeply, that I would cry as I played my heart out in the midst of heartache or tragedy?  How could I have known?

How could I have known, when I first attended a church service at the neighborhood Methodist church as a kid, that God was at work?  That He would use that church, albeit imperfect, to introduce me to His word?  That He would one day change my heart and make me His own?   That I needed to be saved from my sin, and that He would do it, and that my life would never be the same?  How could I have known?

How could I have known, when I heard the tragic news in 1998 that my friend was in a horrible accident and suffered a brain injury, that people with disabilities would one day be one of my life's passions?  That in my visits to her in the years that followed, I was also being prepared to love so many others down the road?  That talking to people who can't talk back would one day be so very normal for me?  That that story - HER story - was impacting MY story in so many far-reaching ways?  How could I have known?

How could I have known, when my dad first mentioned music therapy on a car ride in 1999, that I would pursue it for real, that "music therapist, board certified" would become the initials after my name in my adulthood?

How could I have known, when I followed up on a classified ad in the newspaper (yes, apparently I AM that old) to get my first job after high school in 2002 in a day program for people with disabilities, that I was entering a whole new world in which I would pour myself out for many years?

How could I have known, when some new college friends invited me to their church that fall, that this church would become my new home for at least 12 years (and counting) and would impact my life in countless ways?

How could I have known, in my very first professional music therapy session in 2007, that I would watch this awkward middle-schooler grow up and graduate and get her first job and would still be singing with her 7 years later?

How could I have known, when I submitted my application to a company I'd never heard of in 2010, that I was joining a work family that I so treasure today and that I would meet more than 100 clients who would enrich my life for years to come?

I could NOT have known, I couldn't have known any of it.  There is only One who knew all along, and to Him I am deeply grateful.  And naturally, it makes me wonder what He's up to next...