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| by Laurie Modrzejewski |
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The following story is excerpted from A Cup of Comfort Book of Bible Promises, Stories that celebrate God's encouraging words.
But even greater is God’s wonderful grace and his gift of righteousness, for all who receive it will live in triumph over sin and death through this one man Jesus Christ.
Romans 5:17
I stepped away from the dusty surface of the chalkboard and took a deep breath. Was I really in Glasgow, Scotland, thousands of miles from home? And did these seventh-graders still have as much trouble understanding me as I did understanding them? A dark-haired girl in the front row raised her hand, “’Scuze me, Miss, but I can’t find me jotter.”
Her what? My mind catapulted through the possibilities. Jotter? Like to jot down something. Oh, I know—her journal. She can’t find her journal. Aha! With a sigh of relief, I squatted down next to the worn desk and picked up a bound book with a colorful cover lounging on the floor near the aisle.
She smiled at me as I handed it to her. From his perch at the back of the room, my supervising teacher gave me a slight nod. Wow, I needed that. After weeks of trying to adjust to a new culture, language, and environment, relief washed over me.
Three months earlier, when my plane touched down in Glasgow, my only instructions were to look for a man holding a sign with my name. After awkward introductions, we searched for my suitcase, but it was nowhere to be found. The perky customer service employee said it was probably on a plane headed back to the States. I couldn’t help but think maybe that’s where I should have been, too.
With only the clothes on my back, I set off for St. Andrew’s College, where I would be staying during my overseas student teaching adventure. My first glimpse revealed a brown stucco building built into the side of a hill. The dormitories looked like giant cardboard boxes, some hugging the rise, some jutting out. Rain spattered the windshield, and the driver from the college told me I should get used to cloudy, windy, and damp weather. At least his forecast matched my mental outlook.
Alone in my dorm room, I decided to talk to God about all of the things I thought were wrong with my situation. I listed my grievances and gripes, all the time wondering if He was near, even though I was so far from all that was familiar. Did He know how strange I felt and how much I wanted to go home? Right then, I wasn’t really sure, but I settled in for a nap in the same clothes I had been wearing for the past twenty-four hours.
I did get my suitcase, but whatever I had decided to pack back in Pennsylvania didn’t seem to offer much help at St. Augustine’s Secondary School. There was so much to learn, starting with a multitude of words I had never heard before—and all spoken so rapidly, I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. The first time I heard a teacher call a student a “cheeky monkey,” I almost burst out laughing. I regained my composure quickly when I realized the instructor was genuinely angry about the child’s behavior.
When a student was threatened with a “punishment exercise” because he was disrupting the class, I thought the teacher wanted him to do jumping jacks in the aisle. Imagine my surprise when the teacher handed the offender a packet of papers on which he had to write “I will not disrupt the class” 500 times. I guess he was exercising the muscles in his hand while he wrote all of those sentences!
Every day brought new adjustments. Some were small, such as when I tried to buy a bag of plain potato chips, and I was faced with choices like pickled onion, prawn cocktail, and roast beef—none of which sounded even remotely appealing.
There were major changes, too. I soon learned that God was pushing me way out of my comfort zone. Back in the states, I attended college in a tiny town nestled in the Allegheny Mountains. Now, I had to find my way around a crowded, bustling city. Social interaction revolved around drinking, smoking, and hanging out in pubs, but with a family history of alcoholism, I stayed on the fringes and made few friends.
At times, homesickness overwhelmed me. I just wanted something familiar, and I craved my old routine, friends, and family. God made it clear that I needed to stop clinging to what I had left behind and embrace the new opportunities I had been given. I started traveling on the weekends, determined to enjoy the countryside and learn more about the history of Scotland. After renting a car and learning to drive on the other side of the road, I headed out to the Highlands.
Shy, black-faced sheep with newborn lambs dotted the countryside. I drove through low, rugged, thorny moors, only to enter endless green fields dappled with brilliant, golden-yellow blossoms. Mountain waterfalls gushed by the side of the road, and I laughed at cows with long, shaggy hair hanging in their eyes. I saw my first real castle, and when I touched the cool stone walls, I daydreamed about the knights and ladies who had lived there long ago.
On one adventure, not long after leaving the bustling city, I drove through a hard curve on a lonely country road. I glanced over to my left and standing in the middle of a field was a bagpipe player, dressed in the tartan of his clan. As I walked across the meadow, I recognized that he was playing “Amazing Grace.” His passion and intensity showed on his face, and as the last notes of the song faded away, I felt as though a blessing had been said over me. I was desperately in need of God’s presence and His peace, and at that moment, I felt certain He was with me—even in Scotland, thousands of miles from home.
My last few days at St. Augustine’s Secondary School linger like photographs in my mind. The faculty threw a party for me, gave me gifts, and teased me about my awkward attempts to think and act like a Scot. The students created a book of poetry and made me promise to carry it back to the States and share it with other kids. I did bring their project back with me, but I also carried much more in my heart.
God’s rewards came in unexpected forms while I struggled in Scotland: the giggles of students who loved my “accent,” although I grew to love theirs even more; the beauty of a land that God’s hands sculpted with careful precision and craftsmanship; and the endless kindness of strangers turned friends.
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