Yet my heart has changed. When I was here last, I was a student, and focused mostly on student things–learning about British-American history and relations, British politics, British culture, and absorbing the city as much as I could. I enjoyed every minute in London, every wandering down old alleyways, every cup of coffee in little shops scattered around the city, every walk out my front door of #3 Gower Street (just around the corner from Tottenham Court Road and its tube stop). When I was here last, though, I was here for me, for my purposes…not God’s.
Coming back to London wasn’t my plan, it was God’s. He has given us a really amazing ministry opportunity right here in the city, where we will be living together as a squad and serving and loving people in the name of Christ. I can’t tell you much more about it right now but we are so excited about this ministry!!!
My heart is here in London but now, unlike last time I lived here, my heart resides in God’s heart. Because of that, even more than the familiar surroundings, I know I am truly home here–I am home in His heart, in His Kingdom. He’s brought us here to bring His Kingdom and His light into a dark, dark place. Though the poverty here is rich compared to that of the villages of Myanmar or Swaziland, there’s a destitution of spirit–a poverty of the soul. Britain is one of the richest countries in the world, but it lacks the Christian atmosphere of America. Faith has come and gone here like a fad, and darkness seems that much darker knowing that historically, it’s where light once shone. Many here don’t think they need anything, but they don’t realize what they lack–the joy of the Lord, the power of His presence, the presence of the spirit of the Living GOD in their lives!
OK. So I’m sitting here trying to do work, but I just can’tconcentrate; I have to write. I have to try to say what my heart is
feeling right now.
What is it? I’m not even really sure. Something about what I’ve been
blessed with in London. Living here, breathing this polluted air,
hearing the languages of the streets, making friends in the family of
God, almost getting hit by buses and taxis, eating sandwiches,
walking, walking, being a tourist, taking all the stupid pictures I
want, learning to be proud of my American accent, learning about what
makes me American, enjoying being able to explain this all to my
friends, strolling through the park, listening to music on the tube,
people-watching, being polite, conversing with strangers about being
an American when the Sainsbury’s cashier notices the Bank of America
on my check card, screaming out loud in my flat (alone) when UNC
advanced to the Final Four, trying to explain my love of basketball to
my friends from all over the world, learning about rugby and why it’s
better than American football (!), the familiarity of Gower St and
Tottenham Court Road, being able to go to Scotland and Wales for a
weekend, hopping a double decker bus to go to the market on a Saturday
morning, living and loving and learning with the five girls in my
flat, experiencing British professors and their teaching and
assignment methods, speaking real English, going to our local for a
drink and to chill, knowing the tube system like the back of my hand,
chilling in Kensington Gardens on a beautiful holiday, talking pounds
and quid instead of dollars and bucks, adding ‘yeah’ to the end of my
sentences, calling myself a muppet, texting, texting, and more
texting, the BK café with my amazing lifegroup, learning about what
makes a Brit a Brit and why they’re so proud of it, learning why Brits
are not Europeans, trying to explain why I voted for Bush, being
surprised at seeing a car with the steering wheel on the left side,
always knowing that there is more to see, taking a new street away
from the ones I know…crying at the thought that I have to leave
London. London that I love. Now I understand.
