It’s a smoky morning, natürlich

A dense fog rolled in this morning. Much like rain, a good fog awakens my soul. It reminds me of Germany and baking bread and hot coffee and walking around with coats and mittens on-while hoping this next ancient church might let me use the bathroom.

And due to the fact that I’m a German-born woman, with thick German blood, who married a German, who speaks (broken) German and loves a good Weinerschnitzel, fog is the memory catalyst into my mind bank.

(A memory trampoline, if you will.)

A long walk on the top of an Austrian mountain-in the wrong direction-brought Biceps and I to this gorgeous churchyard. We rewarded ourselves by eating at a local restaurant, enjoying pommes fritas und bier. The fog blanketed the cemetery as we ate, reminding me simultaneously of bad horror movies and the hovering of the Holy Spirit. (Is that possible?)

After hours on a train, in a cab and then on a boat, we made it to Hallstadt, Austria. It was a silent and foggy morning-no motor cars, no tourists and no one awake yet-making us feel as if we were the only two people in this quaint town.

However, once the townspeople woke up, they proved us wrong-hollering out their “Guten Morgens” und “Kaffee?”. But for a moment, it was just us, the cows and the fog.

It may be weird, but fog wraps me up in a cozy blanket and makes me feel protected. What’s your favorite weather change?

Au Naturale and Old School

Come on a journey with me. (*Caution: Unusually heavily photographed Rebekah post.)

Let’s walk down the road together-celebrating the times before we were constantly connected, a time where we look at each other while at the dinner table instead of at our phones.

Pack a backpack, grab a film camera, a paper map and wear your favorite comfy pants-we’re about to get au naturale and go on an old school adventure together.

No makeup is required-even during extreme close-ups (thank you, Biceps) and you have permission to wear the same clothes for a month.

You can’t take your computer with you because laptops aren’t affordable yet and your camera never shows you what it is you’re taking a picture of. You just have to hope for the best and be surprised when you develop the prints and hold them in your hands.

You have to rely on either your paper maps or asking the natives for directions-who might invite you in for a cup of coffee, fresh bread and a conversation in broken English.

You might regret your hairdo and pant choice, but you can just always throw the prints away. And nothing has been posted on the internet or on instagram.

You can pretend it never happened.

And locked away in your brain are lovely conversations, incredibly unique meals, and experiences completely void of anything dinging, chiming or buzzing at you. Ah…what a great au naturale and old school adventure we just had together.

Now, slowly come back to your connected reality of computers, iPhones and digital cameras. We’ll do another old school adventure soon-but until then-we’ve got our memories.

This morning, this is where I wanna be.

This post is going to be short and sweet. Normally, I have to censor myself from rambling and rambling and rambling and….you get the idea. But, writing a blog has forced me to say more with less.

So this morning, this is where I want to be. And here are a couple of reasons why:

1. I have cleaned up two rounds of cute puke before 7am.
2. I need to study for my real estate exam and truthfully don’t want to.
3. The leaves will not stop gathering on my front porch and I’m tired of sweeping them up.
4. I love hopping from hotel to hotel and not worrying about cat puke, leaves or studying.

Instead, I want to be walking the ancient streets of Europe-lit by the morning light-smelling the baking croissants and sipping an espresso. I want Biceps at my side sharing the memories with me as we bounce along to our next destination.

I want to go to a local European cafe, stumble through the language barrier, order slices of cheese, loaves of bread, yogurt and a beer at 10am. (Of course, the beer is for later…)

This is where I want to be this morning. But for right now, I’m off to clean up cat puke mess #2.

Where do you want to be?

God’s Great Country-Salzburg, Austria

Dear Readers:
I’ve felt as of late, that I’m barely making it up the mountain in my life, while being passed by others who don’t seem to mind the climb. While reading this scripture this morning, “I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint.” Jeremiah 31:25, I was reminded of this scenario.

Just outside of the city of Salzburg, Biceps and I found a hostel that perched atop a mountain, promising spectacular views. We had to take a train to get there, but trains meant croissants, hot coffee and jam. Stepping off the train and onto the desolate track, with our backpacks firmly in place, we began the long ascent on foot to Haus Lindner.

A couple of Billy Goat school-aged kids had hopped off the train with us. Dressed in their dark blue uniforms, they immediately passed us by. Their backpacks were only packed for the day-not the entire month. And the Billy Goat kids’ calves and lungs were used to climbing the mountain home.

Biceps and I were sucking wind within five minutes.

With my best attempts at speaking plain German, and hoping they’d understand, I asked how far it was to our hostel. They replied (I think), “Just up that hill.”
The hill was a mountain. And it wasn’t a small one. “Follow us,” they said, looking over their shoulders.
Determined that the whippersnappers would not get too far ahead, and wanting to make America proud, Biceps and I picked up our pace.

Finally, after reaching the top, the Billy Goat kids pointed out our hostel and trotted off for home. My legs ached and my backpack seemed to have gained an extra 10 pounds on the long climb up.

But, the scenery spread out before me-bright, spring-fed grass covered the mountain, the sun had begin peaking its head over the horizon, the terra cotta roofs dotted their way down the lane we had just climbed. It was breathtaking.

The Billy Goat kids had been conditioned for the climb-they were ready. And although I am a runner, my midwest legs only knew slight inclines-I wasn’t ready for the mountain.

But determination of not being the weak link and the promise of more croissants are rather motivating factors for this girl. I knew that I had to just get inside the hostel, set down my backpack and the breakfast would be waiting. The climb had been worth it.

I knew there would be rest eventually for me-“the weary”. If you are, like me, struggling on your mountain climb today, know that there will be rest for you. God in his faithfulness will give you rest and hopefully a croissant.