To everything is a season

I have been thinking a lot about the concept of youth recently. By that I don't mean the whole media thing with youthful skin etc, no I just mean then part between teenage years and (young) adulthood. A friend of mine is getting married this summer and she recently said it will be the end of her youth. Another friend said that it was part of her youth to sit in a car with me and chat for hours. Both things together made me think about what I feel that youth is like, how I would determine it exactly, and I came up with a definition that somehow pleased me.

Youth is a time of taking up responsibility. As a kid, you can't take care of yourself. Your parents make all your appointments; they give you food, money, shelter, cloths. You don't really own anything. The older you get, the more is yours. Pocket money is the first time you get responsibility for your finances. You start to make your own appointments, with friends, the hairdresser or the dentist. At some points you will travel alone for the first time. I was 11 years old when I took a 1h train journey by myself for the first time. I went to see a friend and it all happened on very short notice. 

It all happens at a different pace for each individual, but it all happens at some point. When you are a teenager you are already kind of independent, at least in your late teens, most have either finished high school or some other form of basic education, if you want to stay out late, then you can, because you are either close to turning of age, or you are already. Your parents might still give you rules, but most leave you be, you should be old enough to judge a matter.

That's when youth starts for me, when you are old enough to judge, someone who is able to take care of themselves, a responsible human being. It is not exactly tied to an age, but more to a stage of mind. You may choose to take care for other people, but you are mostly supposed to take care of your own well being. Travel the world, study, go crazy. Just do it, because you are as independent as you'll ever be. Your future belongs to you alone-

Well why did my friend say that her youth was ending? She wasn't sad about the fact, just commenting on the inevitable. Also she was looking forward to this chapter to end I guess. Her youth in that sense is ending, because she won't be independent anymore. She will take up responsibility for her husband, for an "us" instead of a "me/I". Her youth is ending not because she is turning a certain age, but because all of a sudden she is tied to something. Something good I'd say, but still tied.

I asked myself what "makes" my youth. I feel like I’m currently in the middle of it. I have a lot of things going on and I’m happy with that busyness, even though it means that I am not always doing the things I need to do exactly when I have to do them. It’s all about priorities. My youth consists of long days and short nights. Late night talks, late nights going out, late nights reading, studying/ paper writing, watching movies, chatting on whatsapp, maybe even sleeping. Every once in a while I'll spend a night tossing and turning in my bed, because the future scares me. Throughout the day I work, go to church, go to uni, chat, drink tea/hot chocolate at starbucks, read, I write, enjoy my free time that I have to my own availability. I make plans on my own and I love nothing more than deciding spontaneously to do something. Those things I listed are not youth-only, but I guess that when I'm older I will tell stories of that.

I don't travel the world; I prefer seeing the world of my friends, of the people around me. I live through others, throughout those deep and honest conversations that just happen. I want to seize my youth as long as I am in this season, for when it ends for whatever reason, I'll have a feeling that it is indeed time to finish this chapter and start a new one. 

Until then, I'll have my fun right where I am at!

Cheerio.

Easy to carry along

I'm writing this post before I write something in my diary about yesterday, so the thoughts are still fresh and have not left my brain yet. Also usually I don't talk as much about my personal relationship with God, as again, it's probably the utmost private thing I have, but I want to share my thoughts here today. Also in this post I just chat about things that go on at my church, including things that cannot be easily explained as they are supernatural. I still try my best to explain everything briefly. Due to the length of this post I’m going to divide it into two parts, firstly some general things and then the events of last Sunday.

Last weekend I had a great time, even though quite a while I thought that this wouldn't be the case. Let me elaborate. Our church had some visitors from the USA who were on a mission trip in Switzerland. They all attend the same school that belongs to a big church in the US. I have not yet seen through it completely, but when it comes to that church, my church is kind of obsessed.

I really consider it unhealthy from time to time, and I have never made an effort to hide me being displeased. Yes, some of my friends are there, or they plan to attend, some have paid it a visit before. I'd never say they are some kind of fangirls/boys, following the newest trend. I believe that the movement there does a lot of good in the name of God and that I know nothing bad about them to say, but I still have a big problem with what's going on. Sometimes it seems that this church alone is good, holy and blessed. They listen to their music, watch their services online, read their pastor's books and all in all it looks like they are putting those people way too high above themselves. Yes, they are gifted, but so are people in our church. They reach more people, but since when is it quantity over quality? (I didn't say that the quality is bad, but from what I know they started out small, like everyone does)

You see, I'm not opposed to the work, nor the people, but I'm opposed to the hype. Some people behaved like we were going to have celebrities in the house, when all they did was using their God given gift for what they got it, serving. They probably received better teaching than most of us so they serve very well, but from what I got to know about them they also have a servants heart, which means they are humble. Before this weekend I was so distracted by what people said and how they reacted to their coming, that I myself put this group on a pedestal, just on a bad one. I'm more than happy to say that I was wrong.

There is a reason why I act opposed to the whole behaviour and I must admit it's not because I'm clever enough to see through people who just play along and are secretly dishonest with themselves. I get told that I'm reasonable a lot which is probably a good description and I like it. The problem is that apart from being reasonable I am also very passionate. If I'd let myself then I could easily jump on every bandwagon around me. I just don't want that all the time, so I keep that passion stored somewhere inside of me so it doesn't break loose all the time. That doesn't mean that I'm calm or anything, I have no problem to express myself and be a bit crazy, but there is one area of life when it's very different, namely everything that has to do with God.

I don't want to exaggerate around him; I just want to be me, and the most me I could actually be. I don't want to be shaken or swept off my feet, just because it happens to my peers. I don't want to lift my hands during worship because it's the norm at church. I don't want to pray in tongues, or pretend to be able to do it just for the sake of belonging. (Disclaimer, I don't say I knew of anyone who does that but could easily see it happen). Me and God, us, that's what I want. I want to honour him because I want to. I want to desire to follow where he leads me because that's my actual heart cry to. For me, God does not do anything to force me, he just picks up my hand and then we see together what's next. I'm not his puppet, instead we are a team. He talks to me in the way that makes me comfortable, he doesn't want to scare me and for me that shows just how much he loves me, as a unique person.

That was all I wanted to write about today, the second part follows Wednesday

Cheerio.

Today I'm celebrating

Today is a good day. It is a good day even though I’m busy, I've spent most of my evening studying for my finals next week, even though I'm tired and my head hurts. It is good because even though this won't be a long post and the day is almost over, I still wanted to share some words with you. It has not only been a good day because I spent some time with a friend and I had some very good conversations, but because there are more things for me to celebrate than that. Today is a good day because it marks the anniversary of two very good and pleasant decisions I took.

Last year, on the 12/12/12 I did two things. First of all I created a YouTube account. At some point I got annoyed by checking daily if my favourite YouTubers did upload a new video, so making a subscription seemed the next step. Later I realized on which date I did it, which made me smile. Of course I did not plan on making videos anytime soon, I was way too intimidated by this new world that lied in front of me. No, I just created an account, but in the end it was that that enabled me to upload some videos and I'm genuinely just happy about having YouTube as a part of my life. Btw, if you wonder about new videos, I'll try my best to make one this weekend and I will fill you in very soon about that.

I mean just that would be enough to make me happy (yes, I'm easy to be pleased), but there is something else that happened a year ago on this day. I wrote my first post. Well technically it was not my first, and this blog excists since 2010, but I gave myself a fresh start on the 12th of december. Since then I have not only posted 50 posts, which means I almost made it to a weekly schedule (ok I cheated and left out some weeks and wrote more than one post in one week, but you know, life is busy), I also know that some people read my words on a regular basis and that makes me happy. I get encouraged about my writing, even though I'm aware just how far away my goals still are.

There are also other writing related things to celebrate. On the 15th of November I had two pleasant events in my life as a writer. I did not only win my 3rd NaNo, no, my site here also got its 1000th page view. In case you are wondering, yes I love checking my stats, and I also love dates. It just excites me.

So here we are, me the writer, you the reader. You might not be as excited as I am, or maybe you are. What I know is that you just read my words, which is a very enjoyable present for me. Let us celebrate the little things, the small pieces of happiness whirling around. Everyday there are things to be remembered, anniversaries to be thankful for, and today just happened to be a special happy day for me.

Basically here is to that, to more writing, more reading, more videos and more creating and creativity. I hope there are even bigger things to come for all of us

Cheerio.

Home sweet Home

As you all probably know and have heard too many times, I moved out. Well technically I'm only staying at my new plays 4 days a week, but you know, it somehow still counts. I'm halfway through my fifth week of doing this and very slowly but surely I adapted to this new phase and I feel more and more comfortable with my situation. Let me tell you a bit more about the whole first impressions I got.

So when I spent my first night at this scary new place I've only been there twice before. As I had some busy weeks right before I started uni it kind of happened that I only properly moved in the day prior to the actual first day. Of course my stuff was already there but it's not your place until you at least spent several hours there/slept there. I felt very anxious that day. I had not yet bought any food and I almost didn't dare to go out of my room as it was intimidating and somewhat overwhelming. My dinner that day was leftover celebration my Mum bought when we unpacked my things the week before.

I didn't sleep well that night, again due to the strangeness of the whole situation, but at least I expected that. Now I'm not going to tell you how the university stuff worked out, I might want to tell that in another post, I just want to talk about the shared flat I live in. It was strange sharing a place with people I didn't know at all. I did not even see my third flatmate until the day after I moved in, which seemed very odd to me. 

I live with two guys who speak French as their mother tongue and a fellow female that is Swissgerman. She is in her first year just like me, whereas the older guy is in his third and the younger does some kind of school (of which basically none of us understood what it's all about). I assumed that me and my FFM (female flat mate :D) would be going along well because she is easy to be with, but I was not sure about the guys, especially given the fact that I'm not confident at all of my French. At first the language barrier was huge, but it's not as bad anymore. (I can always use an English word if my French fails me).

The first week was very though and I missed home already on my second evening there. It was the sum of everything happening around me, the fast changes that caused this feeling, but still it was very hard on me. When I knew I was going home on Thursday evening I danced around in my room, happily packing my bags. I think I've never felt as homesick as the moment my train arrived at my hometown. I could've literally cried. I would've never thought that you could feel this way after just four days, but I couldn't help it anyway.

So the next Sunday I really didn't want to leave. Don't get me wrong, I didn’t have any really negative experiences, it was just too much to cope with, too many changes for me. I missed to have my friends close, I missed talking to my brother about things he doesn't care about but he still listens and I felt very lonely in general, which is weird given the fact I was surrounded by people a lot. Again I managed to get through that week, having only very small conversations with my flatmates.

During the third week we managed to be in one room all at once, which to be honest was quite the achievement. Since then it has increased rapidly though.

The situation now is pretty good I'd say. After some struggles with convincing the boys to stick to the cleaning schedule of us girls we have the older one on our side. The younger one starts to be annoying due to him lying to us about cleaning and not trying to understand what we say. Also he doesn't slow down while speaking to use which is kind of rude as we are trying our best to converse in French. Probably we should just blame it on his age, but c'mon, that's just not ok.

My FFM and the older MFM have started a prank war with each other, including fake arguments. It is hilarious to watch and listen to. I have declared my neutrality, but I'm secretly helping her a lot. I mean I've been pranked so much that it's kind of dull just watching, on the other hand it's in fact really nice not to be targeted all the time.

Yesterday the three of us stayed up till 1 am, even though we had class at eight, just to talk about music and movies and stuff. I realize how I start to actually enjoy this place, and once the word "home" even got into my mind while thinking about it, which made me smile.

I don't know how this will work out, as there is still a lot of time left here, but to be honest I feel quite confident that it might end up alright.

Cheerio.

Oh and before I leave, I should be writing on a presentation that is due tomorrow but I'm busy procrastinating .... The FFM proposed to drink Grappa to get over writers block....oh college life xD

Enjoy life and live the adventure - part 1

I've already told you that I was away at the beginning of August for ten days. I was in Mallorca and I spend a very good time there. But of course it wasn't as easy as me just hoping on a plane, there is so much more story behind it all. I'd propose you'd take a seat and just read ;)

First of all let me introduce you to what we did and with whom. We went on a mission trip to Mallorca, an Island belonging to Spain. We went there with an organization called Gospel Tribe, which is based in Germany. They have a bible school and organize outreaches to different places on a regular basis. This year was their third or fourth (Sorry can't remember) trip to the Ballermann, which is the German party zone on the Island. If you live in a country were german is a spoken language, you know about the Ballermann. Also on the island is the English Party zone in Magaluf. The goal of our project was to talk with people and pray for them if they wanted to. But now on to my personal story.

I still remember when our youth pastor told me about the trip for the first time. It was during the time that I occasionally helped out in our church's office due to me not having anything better to do. I just loved the idea straight away because unlike American’s we Swiss have too little mission trips going on. What I liked especially was the fact that we'd be a group of our church instead of just me as an individual having to join a group of people I don't know. Back then I really hoped that I'd be able to make it. 

One evening in January, the man who was organizing this trip came to our church to present what we were going to do. Again I knew that I wanted to go, but I just realized then that I couldn't actually go. I still didn't have a job after searching for about half a year. How was I supposed to pay for it? There was no way for me to sign up for it without having a plan settled what I would be doing by the time I left. Would I find a job, would I get time off? There were just too many unanswered questions.

You see, I gave up. But on the very same evening I changed my opinion once more. A man from our church, a friend of mine, got up to me and asked what I was thinking about that whole project. I was honest and told him I liked the idea but that there were too many unresolved problems, like the money issue. It didn't take him minutes to offer me the money. I remember standing there, not sure what I was supposed to do. Should I really accept that amount of money? Was that ok or not? I somehow wanted to go, but was I really sure? And what about the job issue? I was confused and overwhelmed, grateful for the opportunity. I got home and I was smiling, thinking that maybe it would all work out for me in the end.

In the end I decided that I would accept the money. I had to realize that if god organizes the finances, then he would also organize the time and everything else. Of course he did. So know we have a cut, I think it was in June when I started to doubt it all. I started questioning myself and loaded a lot of pressure on me. It was not only I going, but I felt like I was having more responsibility due to me kind of having a scholarship. Generally spoken I felt obligated to achieve something with all of that for more than just myself. Even though I'm quite talkative, it's hard for me to approach strangers. What did I even think when I signed up for going to Mallorca? I did not even like Germans!! There were so many things that we didn't know and when I talked to a friend who was going to we both said that we were not really looking forward to it. I started dreading the day that we left; on the other hand I was still somewhat excited because at least I would swim in the sea again and maybe tan a little on the beach, something that I didn't think I would do this year.

Again I was calmed down. The man who paid for my trip asked me if I wanted to come to his house group one day, to tell them what we were going to do and so they could pray for me and all. Of course I accepted that was the least I could do. What really touched me then was that they specifically prayed for my free time. They prayed that I would be able to enjoy my time, that there should be no pressure from anyone for me to achieve anything. It was exactly what I needed to hear and went from my ear straight to my heart where I felt relaxation all of a sudden. I was ready for the adventure.

The thing is I don't know what to tell you about the time we spent there. So much happened in these ten days, there is not enough space left on this post. It was amazing. If I wanted to tell you all you'd have to read a whole novel (or my diary, but then I'd probably kill you). Let me just sum it up. I've meet amazing people, I had good conversations, I barely slept, I cried out of happiness about three times, I realized that my life goals are still as important to me as they were when I was a little fourteen year old. I know that I need to fight to get what I want, but that nothing will really stop me until I'm there. I got inspired to take something up again that I abandoned about five times in my life, I changed my mind about Germans (I now love them), and I just generally grew a lot hopefully. I see my future in a different light and I have more plans than ever, which is just fantastic. I'm going to have some marvellous adventures if you ask me.

I promise to tell you more stories shortly, but right now all you need to know is that mission trips really form you. You go there for others, but you get so much for yourself. Await part two of this instalment ;)

Cheerio.