Thankful for Thanksgiving

Do you have that tradition at Thanksgiving when family and friends are gathered around the table of going around and saying what it is you are thankful for? Thanksgiving time does cause us to think at least once or twice about the things and the people that we are grateful for.  Usually things like family and friends, nice places to live and having a job are at the top of the list.  Every year at Thanksgiving we are with family for a day or two, enjoying each other's company, laughing together, playing games, watching football, watching the kids run around and do what they do, and of course eating the most amazing meal of the year.  This year, for the Blackburn family, Thanksgiving looked a little (okay a LOT) different than it usually does.  Thursday morning I kissed the kids (and husband) goodbye and sent them all off to school.  It felt strange and almost wrong.  I thought the day would come and go with little interruption to our new normal and didn't really account for the strangeness we all would feel on this first "holiday" away from home.  That evening we were all out of sorts for missing our families and friends and decided to go to Burger King with our sadness.  Jeff and I tried our hardest to make it a "thankful evening" but to no avail. The boys were thankful for things like "planes that will take us back home" and for the other one being the "best farter I know".  What!?  This is not exactly what we were hoping for.  We did get to talk and skype with family which was nice, but no replacement for the real deal.

The guy at the BK lounge apparently does not know what NO fries means. 

 I think I'm counting at least 4 there.  

Friday evening felt a little more normal.  Our American friends Joy and Michael with their daughter Riley came to our house to celebrate a proper Thanksgiving with us. We did things a little differently... but had fun in the process.  The turkey and stuffing were leftovers from someone else's thanksgiving(!), and with limited availability of ingredients, the sides were not "mom's" but were still good (especially Joy and Michael's amazing sweet potatoes).

Canned pumpkin is a strange phenomenon in this land and is virtually nowhere to be found.  The mad hunt began as I asked for it in every grocery store I could find. Each time I was met with blank stares and questions like, "Pumpkin, like the round orange vegetable??  In a tin???  I've never heard of this."  Someone told me they'd heard that a store outside of town had a few cans and unbelievably I got one!  This was going to be my first pie making experience here and I was pleased that the worst thing that happened was the "soy sauce" look it had on the top of it.  We have a European oven with symbols that I still don't quite understand.  I mostly have the celsius thing figured out but the fact that it is also a fan oven has thrown a serious wrench in anything good I had going for me in the cooking/baking arena.  I set the timer to check on the pie a whole 15 minutes before I should have and it was still burnt on top! It seemed not to phase anyone and we were all happy to have this little luxury.  

We are thankful for friends near and far, for family who love us and for a church home 4,000 miles away.  We are thankful for those supporting us.  We are thankful for every prayer offered on our behalf.  We are thankful for each other.  We are thankful for a place to live, for this wild and crazy adventure.  For being gently forced into this deeper place of trusting God with it all.  And for all that God has provided this far.  In the freshness of all this recent change we felt ourselves simply being thankful for 'Thanksgiving'.  

Worth a Watch

This might be the best two minutes of your day.  I can't watch it without tears filling the corners of my eyes as I become beautifully aware that there is so much more to God and His creation than I can see or understand.

For me, it is Psalm 19:1 without words.


**Enlarge your screen and turn up the volume......

It makes me wonder just how much creation plays and praises the God who made them when no one is around to see.  I especially love the breathless amazement from the girls in the boat.

Max

A few weeks into Max starting his new school, I braved it and told him that he could come home by himself after school.  Now, I’d already been through this scene when he was in 3rd grade.  He would want to go to school by himself or with a friend and I would have to talk myself down off a ledge because, since my babies were little, my worst fear has been that one of my children would get stolen by a creeper.  Soooo, I’d made it this far without any of them disappearing and wanted to keep it that way.  But I reminded myself I couldn’t do this forever, so at the brave and fearless age of 8, Max would walk or ride the one mile to school, but not without many warnings and reminders about all the weirdos out there, making a full stop at the intersection of College and Spring, and staying close to other kids.  It wasn’t long before he was saying all the instructions one step ahead of me.  With a roll of the eyes he would say, “I know, I know, stay on the sidewalk, don’t ride on the street.  Stop all the way when I get to College, don’t stop for anything and go straight to school.”  Not bad...  Should I have him call me when he gets there?  

The real worries came after school.  I’d relaxed knowing he was safe inside the school walls all day, but now he had to make the trek home.  For some reason, I felt like the weirdos were out more at 3:30 p.m. than at 8:30 a.m., or that he’d forget the way home, even though it was more or less a straight shot.  Max was confident all along, and I followed suit a couple months into the school year... just in time for Max to realize that it was much better to be dropped off at school.

  

This year Max’s school is a mere .4 miles from our home, says google maps.  However, we live near an insane roundabout with 6 roads coming off of it.  It is, apparently, one of the busiest roundabouts in the city.  There are crosswalks to help kids get to school, which makes the whole thing safer and less scary.  (The city just recently put these in.  Until then, kids were still getting themselves to school, it was just more dangerous).  

Max thinks he’s on a BMX trail on the way to school and seems to enjoy scaring people with his fake out moves.  Mind you, on these narrow sidewalks, we are sometimes inches from the cars and double decker buses.  Also, we haven’t really mastered the direction of walking/riding on the sidewalks since it is backwards from what we are used to.  No-one fully knows what to do.  It’s humorous to watch really, unless you almost wreck into someone (which I've done 3 times) and then it isn't so funny.  Have you ever heard someone curse you in a British accent?  The beauty of their accent fades for just a minute.  

So, the whole point of this story was that on this particular day, Max was going to get himself home after school.  This time, I wasn’t so worried about the boogie man, but the mad traffic.  So, I mentally gave Max 15 minutes to get home after school let out.  He was supposed to be home by 3:25.  At 3:26 I was out the door.  Workout pants, tank top and boots (nearest shoes to the door).  I went down Five Mile Drive to the roundabout.  No Max.  Down Sunderland and back up to the roundabout.  No Max.  Down the Woodstock Road almost to First Turn where his school is before I found him.  There was Max, riding one handed, eating an apple and driving up and down the grassy hill next to the sidewalk.  Our eyes met.  I could see the 'OH NO' go through his little head.  “What?” he said.  We chatted (I lit into him).  He said “Mom, I was just playing with my friends.”  Suddenly, I was relieved.  Both that he was okay and that he had friends.  Later he told me, “mom, if I’m ever late coming home from school again, I’ll be with my friends.  I won’t be dead.”  Ah, what a relief.  


Friends cannot be replaced.  But new ones can be made.  Though things are never quite the same, you find new things to talk about and to do together.  A few days after the whole bike incident, I found Max playing in the (1800's) church graveyard across from his school with a couple friends.  If I would have told him 3 months ago that he'd be doing that for fun, he would've said, 'yeah, right.'  But here he is....

St. Peter's Church with the beautiful graveyard in the back  

Max checking out Will's skateboard

Max enjoys school at Wolvercote Primary.  He even gets ro ride a coach bus to the local swimming pool every Friday for swim class.  Required: speedo and swimcap!  As you can imagine, that was a huge deal in the beginning, but he is now used to it and doesn't even think about it.  

He has really enjoyed studying British life during WWII.  He learned lots of wartime songs and isn't shy about singing them loudly in the streets and screaming "the Germans are coming! the Germans are coming!"  Year 5 (fourth grade) took a trip to a museum to learn more about life during the war.  Upon arrival at the museum, the children were rushed into an air raid shelter.   They each had to dress up as an evacuee and some even packed a ration lunch.  All of this inspired Max to go to the park near our house and build a bomb shelter (out of a sheet) and eat his wartime ration (leftover pizza).

Dressing as an evacuee

Make-shift bomb shelter, complete with spit-wad gun

Max does not yet love school lunches with things like "Toad in the Hole" as a regular on the menu, but enjoys "Fish Fridays" and especially Peanut Butter sandwiches that is being rationed with PB sent from the States.  He is also enjoying playing football (soccer) for the Yarnton (that's 'Yawn-ton') Blues every Tuesday and Saturday.  It's cute hearing him say "well done mate" and "come on chaps", right along with every one else. The only downside to playing football here (for me anyway) is that they play year-round. The only thing they cancel a game for is an iced-over field.  The other thing is all the parents are soooo quiet during the games and no one brings chairs to sit in even though they play 2 games back to back on Saturdays. I don't mean to be a baby, but, come on now.  Oh well, Max loves it and that's what counts.  He loves being a part of the team and he needs that physical energy release so Jeff and I don't have to wrestle him on these hard wood floors every night.

Max is in blue and the one with a lot of hair by the goalie

This last picture is one of my favorites of Max.  It was taken at the airport in Columbus as we were waiting to board.  I can only imagine what was going through this boy's head as he stared out at the huge plane getting ready to take us across the ocean.  All along the way, he has been strong... more than willing and able to just be himself, bringing stability to our whole family,  and brave... unafraid to try new things, and real...shedding tears when it's the only thing that fits the hard place of being far from everything you love.  Mostly, Max has just been a joy to have around, and has been the biggest help in seeing our new world through a child's eyes. 

Party Part 2

I was all prepared to be sad on my birthday this year.  I know that's dumb.  I'm just so used to my sweet friends and family loving me for my whole birthday week, and I knew I wasn't going to get that.  Boy, am I glad I was wrong!  

We didn't get seated by the fireplace at Jamie's, but this was a great spot too.  I love the frames!

After dinner we went to G&D's, the ONLY ice cream/coffee shop in Oxford opened past 5 p.m.

The kids couldn't wait to get home to open the box that several people from Northside sent us.  Believe it or not, this picture was actually not staged!

Jeff and the kids bought me a scarf (a must have here) and the best slippers ever to keep my already cold feet from just freezing right off in this cold country

I am a girl that loves getting (and giving) cards.  I never thought I'd get a card that said Happy Birthday Mum, but this year I did.  I also got a card from a neighbor that just made my day and a handmade one from a new friend that made me smile because it had a picture on the front of a super cool cake she intended to make me and on the inside was a picture of what it actually turned out to look like... two very different pictures. What's more is that she pitched the cake, made a speedy Amazon order and bought me the greatest book.  After I opened it she said, "please tell me that you don't already have that book."  I had to confess that I do own it and in fact, it's the only devotional book I brought with me because I love it so much :-)

My birthday was a big hit this year... almost as big of a hit as the kids celebrating at 11:11 on 11/11/11

It's my party

...and I'll cry if I want to.  Actually, I'm not really crying...that song was just in my head.  

Today is my birthday.  Lemon pound cake is our family's favorite for birthday cakes.  Kids at birthday parties don't really understand why we like lemon cake, so I usually end up making a chocolate one too.  But lemon cake is all I need.  Boxed cake mixes aren't really a hot item here (haven't seen a single one).  And if you know me... if I'm making a cake, it's definitely coming from a box!  Jeff's mom was so thoughtful and sent us a Duncan Hines lemon supreme cake and the Jell-O brand lemon pudding to turn it into a pound cake.  Woo-hoo!

AND...Two days ago, I received a package in the mail.  A few friends of mine got together (thinking way ahead) and had called a company in the UK and ordered  a whole slew of Christmas decorations and trimmings for MY BIRTHDAY!!  What a fun surprise to get!  I did cry a couple happy tears and Max said, "don't worry, they even sent you some Christmas kleenexes."  (It turns out that they had ordered Christmas "napkins".  Apparently napkins are kleenexes here.)  Either way, they'll get used.

Max asked me this morning to PLEASE let him come home from school by himself, and thinking I knew what he was thinking, I agreed.  Max loves to make things special for people.  My hunch is that he pocketed a few coins and is planning to go to Londis, a little shop across the street from his school, to buy me some 'sweets' as everyone calls them here.  I love that little guy.

Tonight when all the people I live with get home from school we'll catch a bus into the city to go to one of Jamie Oliver's restaurants.... Jamie's Italian.  I can't wait!

So, no tears here.  Just thankful to have a family and friends who love me!  

Oh, and as a side note- We are accidentally following our own blog.  I was trying to show my mom how to become an "Enthusiast" over the phone and accidentally hit a wrong button.  Now I can't seem to figure out how to unsubscribe.  So how about you all just join the blog and then it won't be so obvious that the Blackburns are following their own blog!? 

The Blogging Begins

We left Westerville on the morning of September 1 to come to a place that four of the five of us had never seen before.  Friends and family had been working tirelessly for days and weeks helping us to get ready for this moment.  Collecting suitcases, finding boxes, packing, crying, getting passports and visas, making phone calls, food runs, finding a good home for our dog, putting the house on the market, cleaning, painting walls, “packing the POD parties”, selling cars, buying plane tickets, looking for a new home, raising support, saying many tough good-byes to family and friends, and crying some more.

Jeff's acceptance into the RZIM program through Wycliffe Hall, Oxford University came on June 2, 2011.  Believing that the Lord had put this dream in our hearts to follow Him into the wild unknown is what propelled us through the next days and weeks.  God’s hand provided in miraculous ways, opening doors and confirming His call.  A dear friend wrote this two and a half weeks before our departure date:  “As I was praying for you guys the other day, I had a picture in my mind of a train moving quickly ahead and a track already put together was being rolled out just in front of it--like God has it all planned out but He kind of just makes the way just a little in front of where you are.  It seems a little scary that way, but He really does have it all under control, and He really is taking care of everything, so you can move ahead in confidence even if you can't see very far ahead.”  This explained exactly how things seemed, and we took great comfort knowing that God was taking care of the myriad of details that needed attention.  There is no way we could have done all that needed done in such a short period of time without God making the way for us.  

The morning of September 1 was filled with moments that no amount of planning could have truly prepared us for.  We woke up early and got ready in our nearly empty home (some very dear friends came later that day to pack up our beds and remaining boxes), took a long look at our house and the beautiful, quiet street and pulled away in the van that would only be ours for another 27 minutes.  We pulled into the parking garage at the airport and handed over our van keys to the new owner who met us there to drive it away.  Precious friends met us inside with suitcases and smiles.   I believe God knew we needed friends around us right up until the end.  Eddie, the Delta employee who helped us get checked in, gave each of them a badge to go all the way to the gate with us.  They hugged us and loved on us, bought us all Starbucks and prayed God’s peace on us.  What a gift.  

We boarded the plane and began the long journey to Oxford, England, the place we would call home for the next year.  What a strange feeling it was to be soaring through the air to a faraway country with just a few of our belongings and each other.  We had left everything familiar and weren’t even sure where we were going.  Talk about scary!  We prayed inwardly and constantly for God to give us strength and comfort, and to help us to help our kids, though we felt much like kids ourselves.  We were comforted just by having each other, knowing we were all in this together.

We arrived in London in the early morning of September 2 with seemingly thousands of other people.  Five very tired and nearly delirious Blackburn’s, with 10 of our 21 bags. stood in very narrow and winding immigration lines for a couple of hours, which felt more like an entire day.  We collected our 11 large suitcases and made the trek upstairs to be dumped out on the streets of London where we hoped to find a bus that would get us and all of our things to our new unseen home.  We had been told that it would not be a problem getting a bus as people coming to University did this all the time.  But the fact that there were 5 of us and a bazillion bags meant that was no longer an option.  Taking a taxi would mean $450-$700 because we would have had to take 2 or 3 over quite a long distance.  The only other idea given to us was to rent a full-size bus.  We thought the man was joking, but realized he wasn’t.  Instead, Jeff spoke with a man at the airport information booth who was just as perplexed as we were.  After thinking for a minute, he made a phone call and told us someone would be here to pick us up soon and take us to Oxford for $150.  We thought it might be too good to be true, but as promised, Abdul showed up in his large Mercedes Van and an hour and a half later dropped us all off in the driveway of our new home.  Though tipping is not customary here, we tipped him pretty decently, as it appeared that he was not aware of what he was getting himself into with us.  (The keys to our home had been carefully placed inside one of Oxford’s colleges and none of us knew where we were going, as the maps were buried deep in one of the suitcases.  Abdul patiently drove us around until we found the keys to our home.  Think 5 sleep-walking Blackburns giving directions to a driver who barely speaks english, doesn’t know the roads of Oxford and we didn’t know where we were trying to tell him to go.  Not sure what number this would be, but it is somewhere on the list of miracles that got us here.)

We dropped all the suitcases into the living room and collapsed on top of them.  After looking around the house for a bit we did the only thing we knew to do and left to go into the City Centre to get food.  We decided to go for something safe and chose Pizza Hut.  Our kind waiter told us he liked our American accents and told us we sounded peaceful.  Take that in people.... peaceful.  Since when have  you thought of the Blackburn 5 as sounding peaceful?  I think we were just so tired we couldn’t raise
our voices.  The past 2 months have been an emotional roller-coaster...probably more to do with the unknowns and things missed from home than any one event we’ve encountered here.

Simple things like opening a bank account took weeks.  Learning and navigating bus routes is a continuing lesson. Riding bikes (2 feet away) next to those same buses on the street is still something we are trying to get used to.  Grocery shopping is interesting to say the least.  

Getting everyone in school has been an amazing adventure in itself.  The short version is that Olivia and Luke just started at a new school this past week.  Yes, that would be their second school here in Oxford.  The story deserves a blog post of it’s own in the future...let’s just say it involved us going through an appeal process with the city council that was comparable to a court hearing.  We are so thankful that is behind us and look forward to a much better school experience for them.

Jeff is fully immersed in school now and really enjoying all that he is learning.  His biggest challenge is balancing the school work with the rest of the changes we are navigating here.  He has classmates from all over the world and loves hearing the stories of other people’s journeys following after Jesus.  To date, his most interesting lectures have been under John Lennox as they study the convergence of science and religion.  

Well, that’s probably enough reading for one sitting.  We are excited to finally have the blog up and running and will try to share things in bits and pieces in the upcoming days and weeks.

It’s hard to put in words how much we care for and miss so many of our family and friends, but we find our comfort in the confidence that we have in God’s call for us to be here.  It will be exciting to see how this year develops and unfolds.

Thanks for joining us in the journey!

(p.s.  below is a picture of our first official 'fish and chips' dinner in Woodstock.  Note to self:  Prepare the kids for the fact that the 'skin' is left on the fried fish here! :)