I am no longer in the habit of going to bed at reasonable hours. As I lay in bed this morning preoccupied with thoughts and dreams and other curiosities I began to see the ascension of the sun beginning as the darkness was peeled away. In moments the sky was no longer its muddy grey but a rich blue. I went and sat out on my terrace and could see the sun fighting its way over the hills protect our beloved city of Florence.

I feel with my heart the power and majesty of the Lord and know that Christ has conquered the darkness. He reminds with each new day. I break bread, pour a glass of juice and sit alone with my Father. I am thankful.

Well, it has been a few weeks, but currently I am without a computer and am at the mercy of the availibility of open computers at my school. Otherwise I have to pay to use the internet at an internet point, but soon I will give updates on all that has been happening…and trust me, I have plenty of stories…

Great sighting of the day: An Italian woman walking down the street smoking not one but two cigarettes (one in each hand…)

Things that we have learned NEVER to say in Italian:

1. popa (this apparently is not what Italians call the Pope)

2. pene (definitely not the Italian word for pen)

Who would have guessed that the Italian language is actually difficult? I definitely thought it was just me, apparently many other people seem to think so as well. At least it’s beautiful…

I must admit, that initially the transition from the crazy whirl wind life that I had been leading back in good ol’ Waco that immersed me into constant interaction with other people to the much slower, much less demanding and at times lonely life of Florence.

Upon arrival to this new and distant land, I did not interact with anyone of my own age or with anyone who could speak my own language fluently without constantly having something sexual to say to me. The first couple of weeks were not much better in someways. Living in a house full of girls that have very different takes on life can be quite taxing, but definitely a growing experience.

But to sooth things over, is the constant slowness of life. It is like a gentle breeze or the lapping of water on the shore. It can be agonizing…when there seems to be little more to life than waking, reading, studying, walking. There is a tug, a remnant from life as I previously know it that says, “There is so much to do and see, yet so little time.” Thankfully, past experiences have taught me that just because you are somewhere that has much to offer in terms of things to see and do, does not necessarily mean that you must try to make it all happen. Let the chips fall as they may.

It is funny, I have a roommate that reminds me of myself, or at least the person that I was not that long ago and still tend to be sometimes. Each adventure with her is a marathon…we rush rush rush from one place to the next…when is the next train coming? can we make it? see everything, do everything…its exhausting just thinking about it. And the icing on the cake…everything that could go wrong, does go wrong. Umm, sounds just like me. Haha! I understand completely. There is an urgency to life, but at some point we have to take a step back and actually enjoy the moment and not be concerned with what we might miss.

I’ve finally figured out that I’m not going to get to see it all or experience everything and its not just ok, its good! There is a sort of perversion that happens in our lives when we see too much or experience too much. And what is worse is when we allow no time recuperation or time to evaluate and wrestle through things.

Thus, my newly discovered mission (it just kind of creeped up on me): to enjoy the days that I have here knowing that it is simply a blessing just to be where I am.

I have begun to see the splendor in simple things like a fresh, deliciously crisp apple from the market, you take a bite and its sweet juices run down your chin…(oh why, oh why, America, have we adulterated our produce so!)

And let me tell you, there is something that is indescribably wonderful: Cinque Terra. I’m pretty sure that this is one of my favorite places on earth. It is a national park here that is comprised of five little coastal towns and hiking trails (or train rides for those not feeling up to the long walks) between them. The hiking trails are fabulous (however, you must be aware that they are also very romantic and there are lots of couples making out around random corners…but you get used to ignoring them quickly, because it is hard to focus on anything other than the majestic sea). I want to just live in a little Italian apartment there and watch the sea for the rest of my life…we all know I couldn’t really handle doing that, but it’s fun to think about anyways…

This is a little bridge in the fourth village of Cinque Terra.

This is just silly…

After going under the little bridge you find a cave that goes out to the sea

Walkin through the fourth village with my roomie, Jessica, and her friend Ashley, who is studying in Rome.

The biggest boganvia plant I have ever seen

The beach at the last village

The beautiful water with rain on the way

People hangin out on the beach

I’m happy to say that I am half way through my first summer session! I had a midterm exam on Thursday and it went quite well.

The longer I am here in Florence, the more I realize that I had always imagined Italy as more of the Tuscan countryside that you see in the movie Under the Tuscan Sun. But that is not quite what Florence is like. Now, granted Florence I suppose is closer to that than Rome is (which, Rome is very busy, rush rush rush big building kind of place). But Florence is overwhelmingly touristy. There are so many people on tours, it’s annoying. Things are expensive and everyone is just trying to get your money (because no matter how hard I try, I still look like a tourist). (Note to Laurisa: Think New York style…but in a nicer way).

My feelings are a pendulum here. Sometimes I absolutely love this place. Like last night, as a few of my roommates and I sat out on our terrace and had a lovely dinner, the breeze lightly drifting, and the postal service playing in the background. But then there are times that I hate this place, like when I am sitting all alone in my huge apartment and have no money to travel and go see things or because all my roommates left me.

Its funny to think that I left home three weeks ago and in only two weeks my mom and sister will be here. Time has gone by so quickly…but I’m kind of glad.

However, I am happy to say that I think that I found a church to attend while I am here. I was walking down the street last week and stopped a lady who I hear speaking in English about a church and asked her if she knew one in the area. She invited me to come go to a church that I had literally just passed in peaked into and her daughter invited me to a bible study. (It was pretty funny because I had just been praying in my mind for the Lord to help me find a community before I overheard her.)

Things to pray for:

• clarity for going to Thailand ( there are still a lot of things that need to happen before that is final)
• for me to be able to meet with the Lord in a deep intimate way while I am here and find people who will encourage me
• for my relationships with my roommates

The sun floods my room every morning and I wake up, happy to be here. I do some reading and make some breakfast then head out to the market (which, thank the Lord, I live only two blocks away from on of the best open markets in town!! hooray!) Everything is fresh and I’m pretty sure most of it is organic. There are about twenty or so different fruits and vegetable vendors outside about that many more meat, cheese, and bread/pastry vendors inside…It is almost difficult to decide who to buy from…but you can usually tell who has the best produce.

When it comes to fruits and veggies, things are relatively cheap…which is funny, because it seems like back home things that are health and good for you tend to be more expensive, go figure.

Life is at a slower pace here, for me anyways. After I get back from the market, the rest of the day is usually spent cleaning, cooking, and studying (and working on a book, but that’s another story…) Today, to mix it up a bit, my roommate, Jessica, and I are taking a little trip a few blocks away to Santa Croce (one of the many churches near our house). It is a gorgeous old church that is about as big as a football field. It is so funny that you have to pay to get into these churches…even if you are just there to look at them.

My house mates are great. One of them however, reminds me a bit of my illegitimate child back home…asking me to dunk a cookie in my milk and then give it to her…ummm I wonder who usually asks me to do things like that? haha

There are a few important things that you should know about Italians:

1. they do not wear strong deodorant, if they even wear it at all

2. just because they are yelling and waving around their hands a lot, that does not mean that they are angry, they are just passionate

3. Italians are small people with narrow/small hands and feet, so if you do not have small/narrow hands and feet do not plan to buy shoes or gloves here

4. they do not believe in a/c

5. Italians also do not believe in public restrooms…or if they do, they make you pay to use them

I am learning a great deal every day about Italian culture, differences between myself and other people I live with or meet, and most of all how to love people better.

Santa Croce was stunningly beautiful, of course. It is where Galileo, Michelangelo and Dante are buried. But I don’t know how I should respond to these churches that seem to live double lives. They make money by people coming to view the famous art and tombs but somehow are also are hosts of a church body. In some ways, it is a beautiful thing that they do. They protect, restore and house some of the most famous works of religious art that have touched lives and been part of changing the world. But when is it that they cross the line? Is it not strange that Santa Croce has a gift shop in it where tourists can purchase a rosary for 80 euro? Or is that ok as long as we are able to preserve these beautiful places with their works of art so that people can continue to be amazed by them?

I’m not saying I agree or disagree with this practice…what must be done must be done and that is all there is to it. And I do think that it is very important that it is all kept through out the years so that we  can see where we have come from as a church. I just hope that the millions of people who walk through the halls, chapels and sanctuaries each year are struck by awe and realize that these images and designs were inspired by something far more beautiful, a person who was much more than just a man.

Well, life in Florence continues to be quite an adventure. I live with quite an interesting group of girls…they are all wonderful and from a variety of backgrounds. None of us have the exact same beliefs, which I think is quite fun. A few of the girls and I have spent the past few days discussing our beliefs and I have have found out a lot about Mormons and pagans…I really just want to be able to love these girls well.

I am currently still looking for a place to go to church, but I think that I have convinced one of the girls to go check out some of the local church groups. I also have plans to visit the Origins group in Rome later this month.

Anyhow…Check out the videos of my apartment and gelato tasting…coming soon

Well, I’ve made it Fiorenze (aka Florence) after a series of long plane and train rides, not to mention some pig-sweating, squelching heat and apparently deodorant that was meant for the states and not for Italy. It was a bit lonely, I must admit and not the kind of lonely that happens when I go home for breaks and every one is at work but me. No, this is totally different. The phrase “stranger in a strange land” has all new meaning for me. Luckily the language barrier is not too bad, at least when it comes to getting around places (although road signs are confusing and street names are often posted on buildings and are a bit obscure). However, small talk with the locals is quite a challenge given my limited Italian vocabulary. I can say things like “Hello, sir/ma’am” or where I am headed or where I’m from as well as the typical “thank you,” etc. When it comes to sentences that make sense, no one has any idea what I am saying…even though I was always told by my professor that if I could at least say some verbs or something close to it, then people would understand. Things seem to be quite the contrary to that at times.

Any how, when I arrived in Rome, I made my way via taxi to a hostel near the train station called Funny Palace. Upon arrival I was welcomed with a bottle of wine and given a map and directions by a funny young Italian man by the name of Mabri (Ma [like mama] -bree)…who, let’s just say is quite friendly…maybe a little too friendly.

As for sight seeing in Rome, didn’t really happen. To be honest, I didn’t really feel like it. I slept, read, and casually strolled about the city before heading off to Florence. For one thing, things are very expensive in Italy…think New York price range, and then maybe add about $10 to that (of course that is clearly estimated since I’m still not sure what the currency exchange rate is right now…)

Italy is beautiful!! Beautiful place, beautiful people, beautiful food…I mean what more could you ask for?

For me, It has been a bit of a shock, though. In my mind I had always imagined Italy to be this glorious little place full of villages and cute little grandmas carrying grapes in the market and little short fat men drinking tons of wine, yelling and laughing on patios late at night as they enjoyed their dinner with everyone else in their entire extended family. And maybe I will see some of that, but thus far, I have seen the city and found it interesting how the Rome collided with modern city life. Down the street of expensive and elite couture shops you can find centries old churches and basilicas nestled between Prada and the Snak Shop. I was slapped back into reality amidst all this as I stared at the georgeous architecture and stumbled upon a one-legged-starving-homeless man, his ribs bulging under the tight surface of his skin. Business men and beautiful women walked by in their designer suits and dresses and exquisite leather boots and highheals on the cobble stone, and all I could think is how do these people not see this man? Furthermore, what is the basillica (that doubles as a museum) just a block away doing for this man?

It’s now strange to me this movement that I am seeing in America where churches are trying to incorporate art into worship. Many many years ago, art was a striking part of worship, Rome proves it. There are paintings, scultures, architecture, so much it is almost impossible to enjoy one single painting because there are so many more to see. But my guess is at one point, people with no hope would come into these shining, glorious buildings and be at completely awe at what then the majesty of the Almighty God, Creator and Ruler of the Universe must be like.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last. Somewhere along the way people kept painting pictures of what they thought the Son of God looked like and forgot who Jesus was.

Well, the time has come. Tomorrow morning I venture out on my own to Italy. While it is true that I have been on trips to places completely new to me, this is my first solo trip and I’m kinda nervous.

Tomorrow morning I fly out of Austin at 9:30 only to have a 7 hour layover in Dallas (not fun   ) From there I will be flying into London for another extended layover and make it into Rome late Sunday evening.

I have no idea where I am staying at this point when I get to Rome…probably some little hostel… But there is one thing I do know, I am going to the Vatican…and maybe I’ll see the Pope…haha who knows.

I am hoping that this trip will be a great chance for me to spend time listening to Lord and his plans for me in the next year or so.

Thank you for your prays….the best is yet to come!