“…It’s not even American young people and European young people working together–“
“…It’s not even American young people and European young people working together–“
Can’t be weary in this place. Nope.
Even when I am tired. 🙂
I pinch myself over and over. Is this Europe? Is that our logo?
And am I really here?
I am. And it is.
I tingle. We all do. I have seen —I am seeing something great.
Something history will remember always.
It’s a blur. But I’m doing my best to remember every waking detail.
coming home from outreach |
friends from home 🙂 |
Words fail of conveying sufficient depth and gravity.
Clichés like: “I’ll never be the same” apply, but still don’t tell it like it is…
I throb thankfulness while I grope for expressions worthy, and finally conclude-
Our best statements are understatements.
Because once again, our God has outdone Himself, blessing when we went to bless.
How I needed the quiet. How I needed to see the rocks that cried red. How I needed the battle to refocus. How I needed to be broken and healed, raised up out of weakness, charged to fight…
Reminded that I am nothing.
Reminded that “All things work together for good…”
All things.
Thank You Jesus.
Thank you, beautiful friends from all over the continent…
We love you…
Taste of the Tour from Sean Nebblett on Vimeo.
I learned today how to make a full cup fuller…
Surround yourself with european friends three tiers high, and talk about war.
Seriously, guys… Why do we have to nearly starve before we’re ready for bread?
friends: three tiers high |
sermon notes. (green version) |
Marcel manipulating languages |
faces |
Frank Fournier: fellow “American” and new friend 🙂 |
This one is for the Fords. 😉 |
more friends |
my pal again. (fun to take pictures of!) |
listening |
we interrupted a birthday party on outreach. Second from left there got Happy Birthday, and Always Cheerful. |
the neighborhood natives lead the way |
p.s. you don’t have to speak the same language to be friends… |
I love it when a group of kids knocks on the door, and after they have finished singing and the owner has selected a Great Controversy (of all things!) from their stash of “free gifts,” they offer to pray for blessings on that house, and the owner crashes in with his own beautiful prayer of blessing for them…
I love it when a simple songs strikes a solid chord because the heart was made soft by a brother’s recent passing…
I love it when the neighborhood kids get excited right along with us, and wait with huge smiles with their scooters and unicycle for us to pick them up each afternoon to sing to he rest of the town.
I love it when those same neighborhood kids tell me all the english phrases they’ve learned in school, while I stretch my poor tongue to make German sounds back, and we all laugh, friends.
It is hard not to love this place.
we set out |
that’s my pal there |
and his harmonica is a big hit |
neighborhood girls |
surrounded by friends |
(most of whom have names difficult to pronounce) |
this is real fun |
next door |
see my friends with the wheels? |
how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news… |
Let every word count; every action count.
Speak through our eyes with the language of Heaven when we can’t speak with our tongues the language of this beautiful land.
We love You…
And we love these Your children.
The famous Edelweiß, only in the Alps. |
odd man out. |
If you’ve never had German bread… Well, you’ve never had bread. |
Nebblett & Nebblett |
Breakout. |
Spent hours this morning in a warm little Austrian living room, talking of Heaven… (While the clouds were deciding whether or not to cry.) Now my heart carries a peculiar little twinge.
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