Root Beer Is For The Yanks

I have reliable internet for the first time since August!

I forgot my password to this blog and just tried to remember for about 40 minutes.  But I'm online, logged in, and ready to update.  If I was "good" at blogging, I'd be updating frequently.  But that's definitely not the case, especially when the internet makes it nearly impossible to contact the world back home.  I guess I've made some decisions about this blog in the down time:  I'm not going to explain everything I do everyday, because that's tedious and there's just too much, and I'm not going to write this blog to try to convince anyone I'm having a good time.

Eating in the UK has been interesting, for sure.  I've been trying all kinds of foods (including duck, Turkish and Greek cuisine, etc) and pushing the same old ones away.  I've come to embrace the fact that I'm an extremely picky eater, which I hadn't realized so much until this summer.

Looking for comfort food is a lot harder than I thought.  Mexican food is extremely rare and never looks "legit" enough to eat.  The other day we went to get pizza and I shared one with a friend.  It was called the "American" pizza because it was supposed to be loaded with pepperoni, but when we got it, it was had maybe two or three tiny pepperonis per slice.  But here's the strangest part about my diet: root beer is impossible to find in the UK.  I spent my summer sucking down Barqs and A&W and now I've had to quit, cold turkey.  Dr. Pepper is slowly winning its place back as my favorite soft drink by default.

As far as the trip goes, I spent a few days in the Lake District, basking in what I would imagine is one of the most beautiful places in England.  We also spent a few days in York, and then moved on to our week in London.  We have three more trips to London, thankfully, to see more of the sights and go through all the incredible museums.

Seeing several plays at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre was absolutely incredible.  I stood for a few of them right near the front of the stage, being swept away to a world of theatre that I had never experienced before.  The open air theatre creates a wonderful dual atmosphere: on one hand, you feel like you're a part of the action occuring on stage as you can see everyone else in plain daylight, and on the other hand, you feel like you're experiencing something magical, so real yet so outside yourself.

Communication issues suck.  I sometimes get homesick.  I pick around my food frequently.  I don't always sleep enough/well enough.  But God has let me know that He is my home.  Every single time we've gone to a worship service on this trip, or I've had a really good talk with someone about God, I literally feel like I'm at home.  When I step inside a church and people are singing, I'm overwhelmed.  I feel like I just got off a train and someone I had been waiting to see for so long is right there on the platform to greet me and has been waiting patiently.  You know those moments in movies?  The woman or man steps off the train and runs to be embraced by their loved one?  It's that feeling, and it's so unreal.  God is my refuge.  My courage.  My Rest.  My comfort.  My home.