Sometimes Our Work is Boring, and Sometimes We Get Tired

There--I said it.  My time in Aschaffenburg has not been spent floating along on cloud nine.  But I'm not complaining.  I chose to be here, and I'm grateful for my time here; it's just impossible to spend 24/7 feeling engaged and energetic, and not even the lovely castle we can see from our flat can change that reality.  Americans have to tendency to romanticize living in Europe, but, truly, castles and picturesque streets don't cook for you, clean for you, or earn you money.  They don't keep you from getting sick or guarantee that you'll get along better with family and friends.

When it comes to the life of my particular community, praying three times a day and hosting nightly prayer services might not seem tiring, but it can be, and so can visiting with lots of people. Working three hours at a soup kitchen might not seem boring, but it can be.  On the other hand....all of this can be really wonderful, too. The fact is, each week has a little bit of everything: boredom, excitement, exhaustion, relaxation--everything.  This is real life, even if certain aspects of our life are not so common.  Though I think we will walk away from these five week with a sense of the unique nature of our experience, what we take away will get woven into the rest of our lives, not pasted in a scrapbook of vacation memories and put on a shelf.

Women's Breakfast
at the refugee home

At home, I love to visit with friends and have good talks over coffee or tea.  We do this frequently here, and on Wednesday we did this at the local prison.  I had a feeling that the women would not be interested in us, but I was wrong.  One was particularly talkative, in English, German, and French, and most (out of about 8) were really attentive.  Sr. Chiara, the Franciscan sister that arranged our visit to the prison, had suggested that we share something about our faith journey, which, again, I didn't think would go over well.  I mean, why would women awaiting trial and sentencing in Germany be in interested in the spiritual life of a 28-year-old American woman?  What Chiara did, though, was ask questions that led to some great conversation: Do you have a favorite memory from your time in Taize?  Why do you go to Taize?  What is the meaning behind the Taize cross?

After breakfast, we
hold our midday
prayer at the refugee home.

I said that one of my favorite memories was from last June, when I was welcomed in Taize after traveling from Baltimore to New York to Madrid to Lyon Airport to Lyon City Center to Macon to Taize (three flights, two trains, and one bus).  I was famished and tired when I arrieved, but one of the brothers gave me some food, and, soon after, the church bells began ringing for evening prayer.  I finished telling by story by saying "When I heard those bells, I felt like I was home."

And then I felt tears in my eyes.  So unexpected!  I looked at Sr. Chiara in an effort to not look at the inmates and really start crying, but she also had tears in her eyes.  It was quite a moment.

A couple hours went by, and then our visit was over.  It was supposed to be a one-time deal, but we all (inmates included) enjoyed the visit so much that our community agreed to return on Monday with pictures and a short film about Taize.  I'm looking forward to it, and I don't think I will get tired or bored.