Baltimore and Poland, a study in contrasts

Months ago, our friends invited us to come spend a few summer break days with their family down in Baltimore, County Cork.   We’d talked about it a good bit in advance, but didn’t know what to expect.   It was relaxedly fabulous.  It was harbour views, lighthouses at night, boating to islands during the day kind of fun.  It was bbq on the beach, walks to coffee and ice cream, time spent lingering with the adults after dinner when the kids were in bed.  It was vintage chairs and art, crab-fishing and wetsuits, genuine family fun and watching all our kids having the time of their lives.  And it was so much more.   Mostly, it was life-giving.  As in, I felt refreshed, renewed, alive and glad to be so.  Emotionally, mentally, spiritually, physically.

After a few days of laundry, we were off to an annual conference that we are required to go to in Poland.   Maybe feeling like we have no options but to go is a downer of sorts.  It’s expensive, considering it’s not optional.  It tends to provoke some anxious feelings in me.  But I do go prayerfully, hoping for the best.  But it wasn’t the best – and I’d not really fault Poland – and we knew a whole lot more about what to expect.  It is difficult to get on in a country where you don’t speak the language at all and you have an allergic child in tow.   It can be humorous when only two out of five get what they order at a restaurant.  But it’s not humorous when you take on more information than you can possibly cope with, in a scenario that is all people, all the time.  It’s not reassuring to be presented with a new strategy when you only had a new strategy the previous year.  It’s unsettling when you realize that you can’t find the familiar faces you want to see, because they are absent for one reason or another. And it’s utterly devastating to share your heart in what is assumed to be a safe environment, only to meet outright opposition.   It was no Baltimore.

Thank God our friends had returned from their holidays to help balance it all out.   On our return, they had us for dinner and we slipped easily and lightly back into dinner in a kitchen we know and love where allergies are catered for, into conversation that doesn’t bring anxiety, into the activity of children laughing and entertaining.  I even enjoyed removing gum from a child’s hair.  Because they know me and love me and hear me.  That’s more than human, it’s divine.

 

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