Edition #4: Notes from a Spring Spent Abroad

A trip to the Alps, the sweat-soaked streets of Venice, and a way to get involved in the United States.

Walking in Venice with our tiniest.

A few moments from Europe, a springtime spent in places far from home. Austria! Italy! Slovakia! Germany! Cultures so radically separate from our home in the United States that my breath catches at their sweeping expanse. It’s a gift to experience this discomfort of being because it requires an uncommon inward consideration of self.

How do I operate in a world that’s not my own?
Where does this pride originate, this personal need for comfort?
How do I teach my children to serve and love the world around them, especially one they can hardly recognize?

Growth comes in desert places, and I’m thankful for the opportunity to rework my inner ticking. The last five and a half weeks provided the chance to step back and evaluate the way I interact with others, myself, my family, and remember what a gift it is to be uncomfortable at all. What a gift it is to be reworked. What a gift to watch our daughter thrive when she has to speak with her face and her hands and her body language.

Discomfort is the catalyst for evolution, and I only hope to continue this human plod towards something, and someone, better.

I’ve included a few moments below, golden memories of my own. A few essays are percolating in my drafts folder, and I’m excited to finish a more thoughtful piece when my sun-soaked self is back in its home rhythms. For now, Venice, Como, Milan. And next week? Back to Tennessee.

PS: Scroll to the bottom for a few fun recommendations! Whether you’re looking for a book or an article, maybe a song to listen to, I’ve tucked a few of my favorite things below just for you. Thankful you’re here.

I snuck away on a quiet morning in Salzburg. Isn’t the fortress on the hill just stunning?

The view of the Alps made me gasp - they’re breathtaking.

Taken high above the hills of Austria, in the German Alps. If you squint, you can see the fields where Maria sang the opening song from, “The Sound of Music.”

Brunch date with our oldest daughter in Budapest. I sat across the table in pure bewilderment: Her opinions! Her creativity! Her perspective! How can anyone wish that their children remain babies when they become such exceptional people?

We lived in the Wieden neighborhood of Vienna for just over a month. None of us can speak German, all of us are thankful for the experience.

A Hungarian Ruin Bar (We popped inside with our strollers! Ha!), the Buda side of Budapest, and a profound Holocaust memorial.

An unedited photo with our youngest on the tram in Vienna. She looks just like my husband (too precious!) and is the happiest, giggliest little baby. We adore her.

Our *tiny* Viennese elevator and a moment in the Venice airport with our tired tiny.

I tell my daughters every day: “I’m so glad you’re here. I love being with you.” And it’s true. Those tiny reaching hands, those precious little fingers.

🎧 Killer+ The Sound by Phoebe Bridgers, Noah Gunderson, Abby Gunderson: Holding on to a soft wintry vibe as we shift towards summer. I have a strong memory of listening to this on our balcony as our daughter labored away on her school curriculum. The Vienna light was soft as the day worked its subtle way towards the night.

📚 The Emperor of Gladness by Ocean Vuong: I’ve long been a fan of Vuong’s poetry, and his novels are just gritty enough to take the edge off of his long-considered perspective. There are no rose colored glasses here. Just beautiful considerations of broken places, with characters that are more damaged than whole. If you’re looking for more Vuong, I appreciated his interview with The New York Times.

✏️ Something to Consider: My heart is breaking over the situation in Los Angeles. I have no words that can cross this chasm. But if you’re like me and have complicated emotions with the current political landscape, our family has chosen to donate to legal services that help families defend themselves in American courts. As a human, as a parent, I don’t know how to sit and let the news headlines stream by without personal movement.

I am never surprised by the brokenness of the world. As a Christian, I believe we are promised tribulation, but we are also required to love our neighbor as ourselves. I would want the world to rage for the safety of my children; shouldn’t I be willing to rise for another?