Cordoba and Seville

Well, today I break the silence. Though my blog has been quiet, my life has not! Since Rome, I visited two other cities in Spain, Córdoba and Seville—both of which I thoroughly enjoyed. The former seems smaller than Granada, and the latter much larger. Both cities boast marvelous architectural wonders with mind-boggling historical significance! Still, I must admit, I prefer to live in Granada. True, it lacks the lavish amount of palm trees and tropical magnolias that speckle Seville, and it doesn’t have the same quaint and quiet sweetness as Córdoba…but here there exist equally spectacular historical monuments, here I enjoy all the benefits of city excitement as well as peaceful getaways into the hill towns, and here the Lord builds a community around me. And now, only two months left to dig in deeper still…

I recently submitted an article for the Collegian (Grove City College campus newspaper) regarding my study abroad experience so far, and I’ve more or less tacked it onto this blog—just a handful of stories from the past few weeks you may enjoy!

“Here I live with Ana, a beautiful and bubbly older woman who keeps herself busy housing international students in her apartment. A wonder in the kitchen, Ana’s creativity constantly spreads itself across the dining room table, making mouths water. Meals always go hand in hand with cheerful conversation, which usually bounces around the table in at least three languages. I’ll never forget the week when two boys from London came to stay with Ana. Clearly, my roommate and I (both from the United States) and these newcomers all shared the English language, but we made a point to use mainly Spanish in the home. One night during dinner, shortly after the boys’ arrival, the four of us began to chat and get acquainted. Ana interrupted at one point to ask them a few questions, and I helped by translating the unfamiliar words into English. At one point, one of the boys turned to me and commented, “Wow, your English is really good!” Thank you, but I’m not from Spain.

Besides building relationships with Ana and the students living in her home, I’ve also gotten involved in a local church. What a blessing! The congregation welcomed me with tons of kisses, and the youth invited me to spend time with them outside of church functions. One evening, we climbed up to the Mirador de San Nicolás, a beautiful overlook high above the city with a spectacular view of the ancient fortress of the Alhambra. Camarón, one of the musicians in the group, brought his guitar, delighting us with traditional flamenco, accompanied his friend Ana, a singer on the church worship team. I stood there hardly able to believe it, taking in the sights and sounds of the moment: the moon shining above, the Alhambra glowing in the distance, the masterful musicianship… Truly, I thought, I live a dream.

Though I thoroughly enjoy my daily life here in Granada, I also love to travel. A few weekends ago, a group of friends and I decided to visit Córdoba, another Spanish city northwest of Granada. Córdoba is known for its ancient Mesquita, a large mosque built over a period of two centuries, and later converted into a Catholic church. Saturday morning we awoke early to visit the Mesquita during mass—a more intense experience than we anticipated. Upon entering, our ears met the eerie song of the choir, echoing through the seemingly endless rows of dimly lit Arab arches. Our souls became contorted as we each took in the atmosphere—four of us Protestant, one Catholic, and one Muslim. Thinking back even now, I marvel at the complexity of that moment.” I didn’t have enough space to add more comments about this experience for the article, but I will add here that the Lord challenged me greatly that day. While each of us thought long and hard about the Mosque-now-Catholic-church, my Muslim friend mentioned that it made her think more about God than some of the other places she visited, stirring her spirit quite a bit.

Shortly afterward, we walked through the streets of the Judía (the old Jewish village in Córdoba), where beggars dotted the roadsides, cupping their hands for coins. (I must interject that I don’t intend my comments here to be judgments, but rather observations for the purpose of a challenge.) Myself, my three Protestant friends, and my Catholic friend continued past a particular woman, begging with her two small children climbing around her. As I walked on, struck by the genuineness of her need, I noticed my Muslim friend slow to a stop. I watched her take some money from her purse, turn and walk quickly back to the woman to give her the gift before hurrying on… I thought of the story of the Good Samaritan. I thought of other things Jesus taught. Talk about conviction.

Oh, God teaches me so much here all the time! He convicts me of so many things! But for all the conviction, He has provided a waterfall of grace over me here to receive His instruction without giving way to condemnation. Through the local church body, I learn about the Father’s heart, deep and wide, full of love. Right now I endeavor to open my heart to receive His love, that He may widen my heart with love for others. Please pray that I will choose to abide daily in Him, in His love.

The Father’s big heart of love for you too,

Brittany