Category: Just Life

[Five Minute Friday] Dream

I don’t dream at night. No winter wonderlands, no nightmares.
But I certainly have dreams.

I used to dream of becoming famous. Someone people would recognize on the streets.
I used to dream of becoming a professional musician and touring the world.
I used to dream of being someone people look up to.
I used to dream of being married to a handsome man by the age of 25.
I used to dream of being and doing so much more.

What material are dreams made of?
When is a dream a dream and when is it just a simple illusion?

I guess we need to live in order to find out.
We need to run with an idea and see how far we can get.
We need to allow a vision to flood our veins with energy and adrenaline to keep us going.
We need to stumble and readjust our view.
We need to watch a dream shatter at the rocky shores of life, say goodbye to mere illusions and overrated expectations.
We need life to refine our dreams and reveal their true nature.

We need to go through this process of running, falling and seeing clearly.
In the midst of it we might discover that dreams are still there.
That new dreams are birthed in unexpected places.
We might encounter the One who has dreams for us, had them all along, and will never give up on us trying.
We might find that our dreams have a perfect place in the bigger picture.

You can’t measure a dream.
But if we allow the master to dream for and with us we might see them unfold right in front of us.

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As always, linking up with Kate Motaung and the Five Minute Friday peeps today!

[Five Minute Friday] Fear

When I was little I was terribly afraid to be alone in the car.
Whenever my Mom would stop somewhere to swing by a place or drop something off I lost it. As soon as she said, “it’ll only take a minute” I knew what was coming.
My mind started racing with scenarios how strangers would come and attack me, hijack me right out of the car. I sometimes hid behind my seat to not be seen by people passing the car.

So my parents bought a teddy bear.
I actually don’t remember if he had a name, but he kept me company whenever Mom and Dad couldn’t.
That teddy bear didn’t make everything better, but he made me feel less afraid.
He was just there.

About twenty years later I’m totally fine by myself in the car and many other places.
But fear is still there, just in a changed form.
We still feel lonely sometimes and doubt if we are good enough for someone’s friendship.
We still have to face tests in all kinds of areas in life and deal with potential failure.
We still can’t foresee the future and know whether we will sink if we step out onto new waters.
We still live in a world that appears to be more broken every day with suffering, wars, hunger, poverty.

Fear of what’s to come lurks in the back of all our minds.
It freezes our brains, cripples our souls, and binds our hands sometimes.

We are not supposed to live like this, crippled and hopeless.
We are meant to overcome fear and thrive.
This doesn’t happen in a day, but it might start with a teddy bear.
Someone in your life who walks with you.
Listens to you as you share what really bothers you.
Cheers you on as you call fear by its name and put it in its right place.
Pull fear out of the shadows and into the light.

As long as we live in this broken world we can’t take all cares and fears away.
But we can very well decide whether it governs our lives by lurking in the dark.
Let’s find and be teddy bears.
Friends who walk with each other through the dark days.
Who face trials together.
Who help each other get up after we have fallen.
Who don’t take everything away, but make the day or night a little brighter.
Let us remind each other to bring our fear-crippled hearts to the Everlasting, our rock and true safety.

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It’s Friday and we meet up at Kate Motaung‘s to just write. Come and join us!

Navigating the Turbulent Ocean Called Life


I was two when we moved for the first time. 



Ever since then I’ve never lived in one place for more than six years. Due to my dad’s job and my parents’ global attitude, we have moved across town, cross country, and overseas. As a German native, I’ve also lived in Uganda, South Africa, and the US.

Transitions are not easy.
They challenge us, shake up our beliefs of who we are, of how the world looks like and functions, of how God is or seemingly isn’t at work in our lives.

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I am thrilled to be featured with this story at Ashley Hales’ Circling the Story today! Come join me to read the rest of this piece here! 



[Five Minute Friday] Gift

I’ve been a little out of touch in this space lately, but there’s a good excuse. For the last two weeks I’ve been traveling around North Carolina, taking a break from work, and reconnecting with dear friends.

It’s just been two weeks, but t’s also been so much more than that.
Fourteen days of not thinking about work at all.
Of indulging in good food and free refilled drinks.
Of admiring nature’s beauty in the mountains and at the beach.
Fourteen days of restoring rest to body, mind, and soul.
Of time with precious people, talking late into the night, reminiscing of sweet memories and adding new chapters to the story.
Fourteen days of celebrating friendships.
It’s just been two weeks, but they were intensely filled with gifts.
Like all those people who opened their homes and let me crash on their couches, even though it was often late at night.
Like all those friends who drove me around and did the most ridiculous shopping trips with me.
Like entering T’s house and feeling at home right away. Such a welcoming atmosphere that made me not even think about work or stress for one minute. I was just there and could enjoy every single moment.

Like celebrating beautiful H, watching her get married to the boy of her dreams, and swing dancing the night away. Hiking through the woods and laughing about silly stuff were just the things I needed.

Like driving through beautiful Greensboro or walking around campus with T and sharing about life. Simply starting where we had left off about two years ago, as if we had never been apart. Instant connection, instant depth, and incredible blessings to my soul.

Like going to the beach with E and swimming in the ocean with the most amazing colors. Sitting at the water at night, listening to the waves, and sharing about the essential things in life. E’s view of the world, his attention to and appreciation of the little beauties in the ordinary, and his nostalgia were inspiring.

Like walking around town with ME, MB, and A or going on culinary adventures with C, E, and N made me discover hidden things, rejoice about new developments, and treasure the familiar.

Every single talk was often so much more than expected, so much deeper than hoped for, and so much more a blessing than imagined. Friendships may be silent at times, but once souls have connected they’ll always come back to each other, no matter the distance.

Thank you for the gift of friendship. Thank you for being on that journey together.
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A little later than usual, but I’m still linking up with Kate Motaung’s Five Minute Friday. Another great gift, this community of bloggers and encouragers! 

[Five Minute Friday] Rise

Since I started teaching earlier this year, my life has changed quite a bit.
Every morning my alarm goes off at 5.15 and after a few snooze attempts I really, really have to get up.
In the beginning it was still dark, so I stumbled through my own apartment with just one tiny lamp to not wake my roommate.

I left the house and joined a few other tired faces in the bus and train.
It was simply too early.
However, it was worth it.
As the train made its way through the sleepy landscape, the sun rose. A giant orange ball rose into the sky, pushing away the darkness and drenching everything in a golden light. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes and take in its warmth.

Many mornings I had to think of the verse in the Psalms:
His mercies are new every morning.
What a promise!

It tells me ‘It’s okay. Just try again.’
It reminds me that the failures of yesterday don’t have to haunt my today.
It encourages me to try again. To be myself with all its flaws because there’s a father who looks at me with joy. Just because I’m his.
This mercy inspires me to rise above myself, to step up and out of my comfort zone, a little bit every day.
It challenges me to offer this same freedom to those around me.
They can rise; I give them a helping hand and rejoice with them as they take new steps.

I hope you experience his mercy every morning and allow yourself to live and be in that freedom.
And more than that, I challenge you to extend it to someone else.

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Linking up with Kate Motaung’s Five Minute Friday today.

[Five Minute Friday] Follow


“Some are leaders, others are followers.”
There’s an interesting thing that happens when strangers get together to work on a task. I’ve had quite a few chances to observe these dynamics whenever I had to do a presentation at uni with people I had just met a few minutes ago. Here’s your task, here are your people – go.
After some uncomfortable glances and some shy smiles, a division takes place.

Into leaders and followers.
Those who take the initiative, bring in ideas, or even very clear, non-negotiable concepts. And those who nod approvingly and do whatever the most dominant person in the group suggests.
There has never been a formal round of introductions or vote, no personality type test. It just happens. People fall into their roles of leaders and followers.
I’m sure we’ve all had our shares of pressuring, dominating leaders who left us with no alternative but to nod and do whatever they say.
Who didn’t make us feel like followers but subjects at their service.
But I hope, really hope, that you’ve also experienced great leadership in your life.
People who took time and effort to invest in you.
A fine eye to carve out your talents and personality.
Diligence to sharpen your creativity.
People who gave you a hug when things got tough.
Lifted you up in prayer.
Rejoiced and celebrated with you when you reached another milestone.
We need those people in our lives.
Leaders who are bold to step up and take on responsibility.
Who are firsts in their fields and don’t give up despite all the obstacles.
Who inspire and lead by example, with all its dark spots along the way.
Leaders who blaze the trail for many others to come after.

Leaders who make us want to be followers.
“Some are leaders, others are followers.”
I don’t know if this is always true.
If you can be only one or the other.
There are times when we can fall back and follow into footsteps on paths others have gone before us.
Yet life takes us to many unfamiliar places at times.

There’s new width to be conquered, new depths to be explored.

And we find there’s no one there who we could follow.
It might be time for the followers to step up.
To become leaders.
To take time and effort to invest in others.
To develop a vision and run with perseverance.
To be a first in something and staying with it despite obstacles.
To cry and to rejoice with our running mates.
It sounds like a lot.

But it all starts with one small first step.
Not to the ends of the world, but into the ‘world” you’ve been called to lead.
How do you experience leadership in your life? Where could you step up as a leader?
On Fridays, a whole tribe of writers gathers over at Kate Motaung’s Five Minute Friday. One prompt and we all follow. Five minutes of writing. Lots of sharing.

[Five Minute Friday] Meet

“Church wasn’t my thing today. I didn’t really connect with God during worship.”
“I feel bad. Haven’t opened my bible all week and met God.”
“Me, too. I didn’t even meet other believers to connect.”

I don’t know if you have heard similar statements from people around you or also discovered them in your mind.
I do sometimes. Growing up in a Christian home, walking through the entire youth program the church had to offer, living on the mission field telling others about it somehow implanted a certain thinking in my head:
Read your bible, go to church, meet other believers to meet God.
Which, in general, is a good thing.
But with it comes also a feeling of pressure.
You have to do this.
This is the only way.
Which leaves me guilty every time.
Every day without opening my bible, not connecting in worship or even going to church leaves me with a sense of failure and a spiritual bad conscience.
God is to be found in the church and ‘spiritual’ things, so I better do my part to find him.
And what if I do all that, what if I play by the rules and still feel like he’s not there?

Since I started working, my alarm goes off at 5.15 am most mornings.
I am glad when I get seven hours of sleep.
My body is exhausted, my mind is weary from thinking and planning and worrying.
There’s enough pressure out there, and very little time to meet God in ‘spiritual’ ways.

In the midst of all of this I discovered a new sense of freedom.
I met tons of new people, fellow teachers, students, commuters…
I heard a lot of stories, as I got to know people a bit and they allowed me a glimpse into their lives and struggles.
I shared questions and problems and was blessed with unexpected advice, a good laugh (or chocolate).
I experienced genuine kindness, friendship, and hope.
I have seen the most beautiful sunrises, a perk from getting up so early.
I have savored a good night’s rest or a home cooked meal.
I have raveled in the outburst of flowers and spring colors.
I met God. 
Outside the church.

I don’t know how your day looks like, how your lives look like.
I don’t know if and how you meet God. I don’t say one way is better than the other.
But I want to speak a little bit of freedom to your guilt-ridden soul.
I want to release you from the pressure others or you have put on your faith.
I want to challenge you to widen your perspective and open your eyes and heart.
God is out there, he’s ready to be found and meet you.
Right where you are.
In often unexpected places and people.
In the weirdest circumstances.
Are you ready to meet him there?

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It’s Friday and I am linking up with Kate Motaung‘s Five Minute Friday. Why don’t you join us? 

[Five Minute Friday] Tomorrow

When I started working a few months ago I was swamped with a set of letters only grown-ups get: ads from insurance companies, health insurance, taking care of potential accidents at work, an insurance if I break someone’s stuff, investing my newly earned money in a fond…the list was long.
So that’s what grown-ups do. 
Taking care of insurances. 
Taking care of the future. 

In German we have a word for that: “vorsorgen”. 
It means to take care of something in advance. 
Even though I am glad for the German welfare system and the different insurances, this word left me wondering.
Vorsorgen has a second meaning: to worry about something in advance. 
And this is rather a burden than a blessing. For our future, but even more for our present.

When we worry about the future and our safety, we actively keep our hearts in distress. 
We unconsciously choose this state of uncertainty and worry because we don’t want to let go. 
Even though, as much as we worry and seemingly plan ahead, we can’t control this world, someone else’s life or our own. We can create a certain framework, but we can never guarantee that tomorrow will be as planned.

If we worry about the future and occupy our minds and hearts with tomorrow, we miss out on something very important: today.
We walk by today’s nature and beauty. 
We miss out on great conversations. 
We overlook amazing people who want to walk life with us. 
We forget to take a break for our bodies and souls because we are anxious to be left out. 
We are left empty today because we chase the riches of tomorrow.

Take in today, share its joys and challenges.
Don’t miss out on today’s blessings because you wait for tomorrow. 
This day will come anyway, no matter how much or little you plan.

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As always, linking up with Kate Motaung‘s Five Minute Friday today.

This Little Storybook that Holds My World

My passport expired a few months ago, and since I’m about to go traveling again I needed to get a new one. When the lady at city hall asked for my old passport I was startled. Did she want to take it away?
It left me wondering, Why do I care so much about this little booklet?

Among TCKs there’s a joke that the most valuable book you’ll ever possess is your passport.
This little booklet tells stories.
Stories of travels to foreign countries.
Stories of adventures in unknown cultures.
Memories of people, smells, and food so different from who you are.

Like the story when we were stuck at the airport in Entebbe/Uganda for hours because the officer wouldn’t accept our residence permits. We didn’t want to pay the customary “fee” (we would call it a bribe), so he made us wait in this unknown country. Our work and lives for the next two years would depend on this little piece of paper. When he finally let us go after lots of questions, it felt like a relief and the stamp of entry like a triumph.

Like the story when we traveled to Tanzania, a 10-12 hour bus ride. Crossing the border was a matter of hours again because the border patrol enjoyed talking to the only Mzungus (white people) on the bus in the middle of African bush land. Only when they were sure my dad was Jesus (because of his beard and longish hair), they let us pass, and we had a new stamp in our passports to remember this trip.

These stamps are not just stamps on a piece of paper. 
They serve as a conduit to our memories. 
Images of sun-drazed hills, humble yet elegant and amazingly friendly people, and the most
breath-taking sunsets come to mind when I flip through the pages of this little booklet.

Many pages are filled with visas, but in between there are also a few surprises. Like the entry stamp of Abu Dhabi I had not intended to get.
My flight to Johannesburg, South Africa was delayed, so I had an extra night to spend in this desert metropole. At immigration I was searched by a completely covered-up woman, which felt intimidating since she asked me to take off my clothes. As soon as I left the nicely cooled airport a heat wave hit me and made my clothes stick to my body. The cab passed by simple white houses in the desert, the skyscrapers downtown looming in the background. I was taken to a hotel which could’ve easily been the scene of a Persian fairytale and met some friendly fellow travelers.
The Arab letters in my passport remind me of my first encounter with the Oriental culture, even though it was just a peek.

To get a visa or entry stamp from the US is quite a journey which starts a few months before actual departure, when you go to the embassy, wait a few hours, and endure security protocol. Just to get a five minute interview in which you state that you definitely don’t want to emigrate to the US or have a secret fiancé there. The long line at the airport and a suspiciously looking border patrol officer in Charlotte, NC almost seemed like a piece of cake afterwards.

Passports tell stories.
Our stories.
Just like photo albums they take us back to adventures and memories of the past.
An invaluable treasure you don’t want to give up.

And yet, I guess that many TCKs might agree that their passports can be a burden for them sometimes.
This little booklet doesn’t just tell what you experienced, but also who you are. 
Your place of birth, your family name, your nationality.
You’re a citizen of country x. You belong to the people of y.

But what if I don’t feel like it?
What if my heart doesn’t match what it says on that paper?
What if my soul is lost in the beauty of Africa, the hospitality and openness of people with a different skin color? 
The allegiance of my heart cannot be described by one single country code.
I am German and yet I’m not. I feel African, but so many things drive me crazy about it.
I’m a mix of everything, which sometimes feels like nothing.
My passport reminds me of this cultural conflict I find myself in, this search for a sense of belonging, a sense of myself, a home.

After a bit of paperwork the lady at city hall handed me back my passport.
With “expired” written across the page in bold letters.
Even though my old passport has expired, my stories are not. 
Because I’m still here to treasure and tell them.

A few weeks later I got my new passport – many more pages to fill with new experiences.
New memories.
New stories.

[Five Minute Friday] Relief

We just celebrated Easter, the fact that death does not have the last word. We rejoiced in resurrection and life. The triumph of light over darkness. The relief that the empty grave brought (and still brings) us.

The challenge we now face is to translate this Easter experience into our daily lives. 
To not let this experience remain a story on the pages, a once in a year event. 
So what actually happened that Sunday that we should allow to permeate our day-to-day routine?
Even before his death, Jesus said,

“In this world you will have trouble. But I have overcome this world.” (Matthew 16:33)

There it is. Once and for all, Jesus has done it. 
Death is dead, life has won. 
He has overcome, and calls us to do the same.
We tend to quote and rejoice in the second half of the verse, but there’s more to it. Jesus is not some obscure magician who just – Boom – finishes the work of the cross.
He promises trouble ahead. Why? Because he’s been through it before us. 
He walked this earth and spoke to people. 
He observed their struggles, helped their needs, shared their lives. 
He experienced the trouble this world is so full of and he relieved it. 
Not with magic, not from one moment to the next. 
But he settled it once and for all. 
He aligned himself with this world. 
Made himself one with our hopes, our struggles, our hearts, our lives.
In the midst of our darkness he speaks words of life: I am here. With you. For you. 

There’s still lots of trouble out there. 
Often I am overwhelmed when reading the news. Political conflicts in so many countries, hostility towards other people in my own country. 
But you don’t have to go that far to be troubled. Just listen to people, read emails from friends, meet up with them for coffee and just listen. 
We might not even have to go further than ourselves to experience the dreadfullness of what life throws at us. Too much too handle and seemingly no way out. 
Look into a stranger’s eyes and you’ll see it: trouble. 
Broken hopes. 
Despair. 
Leaning towards death rather than life.

We are called to bring Easter back into people’s and our lives. 
We are called to speak life into seemingly dead situations. 
To not let dread and hopelessness and despair have the last word. 
We are called to overcome.
Not with magic. 
Not all at once, from one moment to the next.
But with ourselves. 
We have time to spend and listen to others. 
We have open hands to lift someone up.
We have powerful stories to tell. 
We have scarred lives to share. 
We have our souls to align with those who suffer.  
We have words, simple words often: I am here. With you, for you. We are in this together. 
Stepping down into trouble, staying with the troubled, and waiting till the storm is passed might be some of the greatest relief we can give.

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As always, linking up with a wonderful writing crowd over at Kate Motaung‘s Five Minute Friday. There are some great news about a retreat over there, go check it out!