I used to be a thinker…

Tonight, as I should be studying for a test I have in the morning, I have done what I’ve always managed to do, which is procrastinate. I decided to take a look at a recent note I published on Facebook and began to read through earlier notes until I had read most of the notes that I have posted in the almost three years that I have had a Facebook profile. I noticed a general trend among them, one that I don’t know how to feel about.

I used to write a lot, but with the passing years each brings fewer and fewer notes. This, in and of itself, is not a bad thing. I used to share much more personal thoughts, which is not something I consider to be prudent. But I also seemed to have more zeal. I wrote more notes in general, but they were more passionate. It may have been out of blind naivety, or it may have been the newness of everything, but I used to have thoughts and emotions that stirred up so much in my being that my thoughts surged outward until I had precisely, and sometimes very eloquently, expressed them. 

I don’t know if changing times or general apathy are the cause of the lack of such posts in more recent time. I’ve been through so much more since I began my stint here at Harding. I came not knowing loss except for that of a pet, and have since lost my last grandparent. I came with the passion and certainty of becoming a Youth Minister and have since left that behind and become a History major. I came having only visited so much of the United States and Canada and have since experienced San Francisco and the world beyond the Atlantic Ocean. I came having only lived in Madison Heights, Michigan and have since not only moved, but lived in another state and another country. I came with the expectation of graduating in May of ‘09 and now am quite sure I’ll be around at least another year, if not longer.

I don’t know whether I just prefer to keep my thoughts to myself or I simply do not think so loftily as I once did. Perhaps my thoughts are not centered on what they once were. I find myself far away these days, somewhere distant, be it another place or another time. I smell the souvlaki and the gyros as I stroll through the Plaka in Athens. I feel the gentle breeze and the sand and rocks shifting beneath my feet as I wander out into the dark peace of the Judean Desert. I hear the water and marvel at the stars as I float along the Nile atop a boat. I feel the frigid waters of the Pacific wash over my bare feet as I stand at Stinson Beach in California.

I also remember the times I had with different people. Times that can never be repeated. Whether it be a simple walk to the grocery store in Porto Rafti or a week spent in Florida with friends on a high school band trip. I remember these moments in my life and what they meant to me. 

Perhaps I have dwelt too much in the past lately (which seems ironic as the focus of my studies is now centered on the past). As the twenty-fifth anniversary of my birth approaches I cannot help but look back and see just how much has come and gone thus far in my lifetime. In my lifetime I have seen empires fall and new nations emerge from the rubble. I have seen great accomplishments by my countrymen and national tragedies whose tolls we still cannot begin to fathom. I have seen life end in one place and begin elsewhere. In all of this I have merely grown, learning and processing each event as it comes. 

I dare not say that I am any less a thinker than I used to be. I am constantly lost in thought. I may be less ambitious than I may have been in eariler days, but I still aspire to live a life worthy of my calling, one that reflects the greatness of my Creator and sustainer. And while I am not exactly sure of what my calling is I firmly believe that God not only has a plan for me, but that He has led me thus far and will lead me onward into the unknown and unpredictable future. The Lord has blessed me in so many different ways and after my few years so far in this world, after all my studying and wrestling, I can only conclude one thing to be true and trustworthy. God is good and He has dominion over the uncertainty of life. Trust in Him and do not worry. 
                                     ~“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

O Israel, Harbinger of Reality

So this semester is almost over. Three weeks left, and during those three weeks I will be in Israel for nine days. The feeling is very much like how I’ve felt all semester. Surreal. I’ve spent the past couple of months with the same forty people, and during those months become closer to some of them and felt a slight distance from others. And now that our time in this dream is almost over I can’t help but feel an odd sense of melancholy about it all.

The term ‘bittersweet’ is often used in such situations, but I’m still too detached from my arrival into reality that I dare not use such a cliché. I often stop and wonder if there are some opportunities that I am letting slip past. I think about all the time I’ve spent already and all the chances I’ve had and fear that after December 5th they will be gone forever.

I’ve tried to keep this blog somewhat updated about my travels and experiences, but I’m not one to sit and write about such things. Ask me about it and I’ll spend hours recalling them, but to put them into readable characters seems such a chore. And then I think about the purpose of having this blog. While others may have a ‘travel blog’ with which to share adventures with those far away, I do not. The title of my blog is a statement of it’s purpose and my state of being (and not my physical location… I’ve been to Egypt and am going to Canaan, but not once actually stepping foot between them).

The weather has turned cool. The warm waters of the Aegean have turned cold and the beachfront life has turned in for the winter. Having spent most of the semester less than completely mobile thanks to the early cliff incident I haven’t even had much time to see what this town has to offer. It feels like so much time has been wasted, but I believe I would feels somewhat the same even had I not been injured. There is so much to see in this world and so much to do that I imagine no one is ever completely satisfied. 

And so it is that with five weeks left (2 weeks spent wandering Europe) I find myself anxious. I’m ready to be among those whom I love, but not ready to leave the fantasy that I’ve been living in. I’m not ready to leave the family I’ve collected here. God has blessed me with amazing experiences in wondrous places with incredible people and I will never be the same. I may fall into old routines, but I’ll always have these three months to look back upon and thank God for being so gracious to me, a man who once thought such a time would never come his way.

Φθινόπωρο or Thoughts on the Eastern Mediterranean in Autumn

Life is amazing and unpredictable. Much like the leaves in Autumn it has a tendency of changing and creating a new landscape to serve as the background for the situations in which we find ourselves. Had you told me three years ago that I would have climbed inside one of the pyramids of Giza, gazed at the faces of Pharaohs, and felt the sands of the ancient Olympic stadium under my feet I would have laughed at you. But now I have done all of those things and so much more.

This part of the world is odd. On the Attican Peninsula there are not many lush green places. It makes the change into Fall without much to tell it aside from slightly cooler temperatures and more rainfall. There are few trees that seems to shed leaves as they do in North America. Most of the landscape is dry with prickly brush, much like parts of California. One place of solace that I’ve found is a town outside Athens called Kifisia. Kifisia is a community that seems heavily influenced by American and British culture. It is home to a nice park and many deciduous trees reminiscent of those found back home.

Autumn in Egypt is much different. It is the most exotic place I’ve ever been. It is depressing, yet enchanting at the same time. In a land so ancient and rich in history exists poverty and pollution the likes I’ve never seen before. In one place there can be rich treasures of gold and yet outside the walls there may be people living in heaps of trash. Autumn provides a break from the sweltering heat of the Egyptian summer, but in a land that rarely sees rainfall this is not much help. From the majestic shore of Alexandria in the north to the dunes of Nubia in the south there is a sense of depravity that permeates the land, and yet Misr (Egypt) has a power over those who step foot into her lands. I’ve certainly been enchanted and hope with all my being to return to the black soil along the Nile.

In a week I head to Canaan. The land promised to Abraham’s descendants. Where God spoke to his people through prophets. I will walk in the steps of the Messiah. I don’t know how this experience will be, but I look forward to it. After this trip so far I look forward to whatever the Lord has in store for me.

I heard the whisper from across the sea, followed it, and found Hellas

I’ve been neglecting my blog for far too long now. It has been almost a month since I landed in Athens to find a world that is so far removed from that which I left. And yet there are bits of America all around. Even in the small seaside town in which I live there are signs of the ever permeating American culture; from the burger place next door to the skate shop down the street. Most people speak some English, which makes forcibly learning Greek more difficult.

The wind is howling tonight. It’s as though the souls of millions of people, dead for thousands of years, are crying out in unison to bring in the new season. This land is old. Ancient. Older than any other place I’ve ever been. It feels odd to think about how many people have lived here and for how long people have lived here. I visited a temple yesterday that was only 10 minutes away from where I’m sitting that was built in the 5th Century BC. A temple that is more than 2400 years old, just a few miles from here. It just boggles my mind.

Tuesday I leave for an even greater adventure to an even older land where I will see buildings that are over 4,000 years old. Egypt has called me for well on 16 years and I will finally be there. I was an unusual third grader in that I wanted to be an archeologist and not a baseball player or astronaut. My best friend Rob and I spent our days reading about ancient Egypt and talking about what we would do when we got there. Thinking about it now it seems surreal, almost as though it is not really happening , but this Thursday I will gaze upon the mighty stone face of the Great Pyramid of Khufu and my dream will be realized. 

There is so much I would like to say here, but I cannot put it into a functional entry. My thoughts jump around too much and it would be garbled, but I assure you that when I return I will have many great things to talk about. For now, I must find sleep.

Fare thee well

In 7 hours I am boarding a plane to leave all that I have ever known behind for three months. It’s exciting, it’s unnerving, it’s bittersweet. It doesn’t really feel like today is the day, but it is. I’m ready for it.

This past week I got to go to Searcy one last time before leaving, and in doing so got to see many friends, some for the last time as they will have graduated by the time I get back, but it was good. I wish I could’ve stayed for the entirety of the Chi Sigs retreat. The pictures and notes on facebook all reflected an incredible experience. But I suppose I can go without complaint since I’m about to leave on a trip that most people only dream about taking. 

Anyway, I’m going to end this post and finish my packing. Goodbye for now and the next time you read something new from me it will be from Porto Rafti, Greece.

Sweet Molly Malone

“In Dublin’s fair city where the girls are so pretty

I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone

As she wheeled her wheel barrow

Through the streets broad and narrow

Crying, ‘Cockels and Mussels! Alive, alive-o!’”

Sometimes the simple, seemingly inane, is rather moving. I’ve only heard this song a couple of times before tonight, but it’s a song that stirs up warmth in me. I would like to be able to play it some day. Not going to be able to anytime soon though.

O, Athens, make haste for me.

Music Soothes Me, Music Moves Me…

I don’t know exactly what music tells about a person. My tastes in music has varied greatly over time. I’ve gone through stages like Metal, Ska, Classic Rock… heck, there was a time during which the only thing I listened to was Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. I’ve shifted into a new phase now. I’ve left all the highly processed effects of most mainstream music and attached myself to the more simplistic and organic sound of a range of music that gos by many names, like Americana, or Alt-Country, or American Roots Music.

Tonight I even went through my Ruckus Library and deleted most of the music I had there since I rarely, if ever, listened to it. And while cleaning up my library I created a playlist consisting of artists like The Avett Brothers, Ricky Skaggs, and Neko Case. This whole genre touches me in some deep place and I absolutely love it.

I’ve always wanted to start a new band, never knowing exactly what genre to go with, but something within the realm of rock. Now I really want to go with a folk/bluegrass/american roots feel. I’m going to miss a few months of playing my mandolin while I’m in Europe, but hopefully I will be able to pick it up again pretty quickly and find some people to jam with at Harding. It feels somewhat strange, me being a suburban boy from the north, but I believe that the raw beauty of the music transcends geographical and cultural barriers.

My current favorite band is The Avett Brothers, if it hasn’t become obvious by now. If you’ve never heard them before I highly recommend them. I can’t explain what it is about them, but they have changed the way I look at music for the time being. I still loathe modern mainstream country, so you won’t catch me getting down to Honky Tonk Badonkadonk anytime soon, so no worries there.

That’s about it for now. I just felt like writing. Good night.

Bushes are stubborn beasties

This past week I went to Valparaiso, Indiana on a mission trip with a group from church to work at Shults-Lewis Child and Family Services. I had no idea what to expect accept that we’d be doing manual labor around their campus. The trip turned out to be so much more.

Shults-Lewis started out as an orphanage and has become a home for troubled teenagers along with a high school so that they can still work on their education while undergoing a sort of social rehabilitation. The patients are placed in homes with host parents who work at teaching them social skills and how to live in a family environment while a therapist works with them to deal with the problems that brought them there.

This in mind, I expected a different environment than what I saw. The host parents are truly loving people and the staff works very hard with the kids to ensure that they reach both their social goals as well as their education goals. I was able to get glimpses of this between doing jobs.

We joined them for chapel every morning and actually provided the devotional thought for most of them. After that we would get to work. The first work day consisted of sorting through used printer cartridges that are going to be sent to a company in California for recycling for cash. Last time they brought in over $14,000. The next 4 days were focused on landscaping… mostly removing bushes. We did so with shovels, pick axes, a regular axe, clippers, and a sledge hammer. in 4 days we removed 16 bushes and a while wooden frame that bordered some of the larger bushes. We were exhausted every day when we got back to the house they provided for us to stay in, but it was satisfying work and very rewarding.

We got to talk to the kids at lunch, which we spent with the kids and the staff every day. Some of them were very open and talkative while others made small talk and kept to themselves mostly. It was easy to tell who was receptive to their treatment. They were more positive about life in general and genuinely worked to achieve the goals set before them. It was a pleasure to spend time with them and they really enjoyed having new people to interact with.

Other things that made the trip great included going to the Valparaiso Church of Christ and meeting the preacher and youth minister there and then taking them to dinner the next night. They were a riot. I also finished “Sex God” by Rob Bell, which was a great book. I’d say it’s better then his first book, “Velvet Elvis”. And the last thing we did was go to Lake Michigan. There was a huge dune there called “Mt. Baldy”, about 150 feet high. Some of us climbed up it and spent a good amount of time up there explorng and looking around. We could see Chicago across the lake and got to see the sun go down behind it. It was truly an amazing end to an incredible week.

So now I’m back home. In a couple weeks I’m going camping with my parents for a week, and the week after I’m heading down to Searcy to catch the Chi Sigs Retreat To Remember, and then, merely a month from today, I fly out of Detroit for Athens. The excitement builds every day. But I have had a growing longing lately to return to San Francisco also. I hope to be able to do that sometime in the near future. Ok, that’s about it for now. Song lyrics for this post come from Steven Curtis Chapman. Digging back into the last millenium, here’s the title track of his 1999 release “Speechless”.

“Words fall like drops of rain.
My lips are like clouds.
I’ve said so many things, trying to figure you out.
But as mercy opens my eyes, and my words are stolen away.
With this breathtaking view of your grace…

And I am Speechless
I’m astonished and amazed
I am silenced by your wondrous grace.
You have saved me
You have raised me from the grave.
And I am Speechless
In your presence now.
I’m astounded as I consider how
You have shown us a love that leaves us speechless.

So what kind of love could this be
That would trade heaven’s throne for a cross
And to think you still celebrate
over finding just one who was lost.
And to know you rejoice over us
The God of this whole universe.
It’s a story thats too great for words…

We are speechless
Oh how great is the love
The Father has lavished upon us,
That we should be called the sons and daughters of God
We are speechless

We stand in awe of your grace. (so amazed)
We stand in awe of your mercy. (you have saved us)
We stand in awe of your love. (from the grave)
We are speechless

We stand in awe of your voice. (in your presence now)
We stand in awe of your power. (We’re astounded as we consider how)
We are speechless (You have shown us a love that leaves us speechless)”

21 days since my last post

I don’t have much to say except that God is great. My dad is recovering very well after suffering a mini stroke this past weekend and will even be able to return to work on Monday. Other than that I’m going to Valparaiso, Indiana to work at Shults-Lewis Child and Family Servicesfor a week doing volunteer work with the ‘Big Kids’ group from church. Big Kids being 18-30 year-olds. So yeah, that’s about it for now. 41 Days until I leave for Greece, 34 until I fly in to Little Rock. I’m just going to leave the lyrics to a song I’ve recently discovered and absolutely love. It’s called ‘The Ballad of Love and Hate’ by The Avett Brothers.

Love writes a letter and sends it to Hate.
“My vacations ending. I’m coming home late.
The weather was fine and the ocean was great
and I can’t wait to see you again.”

Hate reads the letter and throws it away.
“No one here cares if you go or you stay.
I barely even noticed that you were away.
I’ll see you or I won’t, whatever.”

Love sings a song as she sails through the sky.
The water looks bluer through her pretty eyes.
And everyone knows it whenever she flies,
and also when she comes down.

Hate keeps his head up and walks through the street.
Every stranger and drifter he greets
And shakes hands with every loner he meets
with a serious look on his face.

Love arrives safely with suitcase in tow
Carrying with her the good things we know.
A reason to live and a reason to grow.
To trust. To hope. To care.

Hate sits alone on the hood of his car
Without much regard to the moon or the stars.
Lazily killing the last of a jar
of the strongest stuff you can drink.

Love takes a taxi, a young man drives.
As soon as he sees her, hope fills his eyes,
But tears follow after, at the end of the ride,
cause he might never see her again.

Hate gets home lucky to still be alive.
He screams o’er the sidewalk and into the drive.
The clock in the kitchen says 2:55,
And the clock in the kitchen is slow.

Love has been waiting, patient and kind.
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign,
That the one that she cares for, who’s out of his mind,
Will make it back safe to her arms.

Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door.
Weary head hung down, eyes to the floor.
He says “Love, I’m sorry”, and she says, “What for?
I’m your and that’s it, Whatever.
I should not have been gone for so long.
I’m your’s and that’s it, forever.

You’re mine and that’s it, forever.”

I love late nights

Tonight I went to Meijer (The Great Lakes Area version of Walmart, but better) at midnight. After tonight’s rainfall the air is clean and cool with a gentle breeze, so I drove with the windows down. It was so peaceful out and with the car stereo playing The Avett Brothers it seemed as though, for the moment, that all was right with the world. The calm that enveloped me on the road was incredible.

Meijer was nearly empty as I browsed the grocery aisles. What I bought was a result of my obsession with pomegranate. I got a bottle of pomegranateraspberry juice, a 4-pack of Izze Pomegranate, and V-8 V-Fusion Pomegranate Blueberry, all three of which are amazing beverages, and healthy. Yay for tasty and healthy. I tried some Aloe Vera drink ealrier today… healthy, but not very tasty.

The ride home was very much like the ride there, only the pleasant calm was more noticeable and left me in a very content mood when I got home. It reminded me of last summer and all the nights I had to drive to host homes after a day in the office. Sometimes the drive would be as long as 45 minutes. 45 minutes of peaceful time, alone with my thoughts and the fresh air blowing into the car from my opened windows. That’s one of the things I miss from last summer. Another thing is the constant spiritual enrichment due to the fact that I was always writing a devo or a lesson or reading Velvet Elvis. It’s something I’ve lacked this summer, but I’m doing my class this Wednesday night and plan on kicking that stuff up a notch.

Anyway, this was just kind of a random post, but I wanted to share the experience in words if for no other reason than for me to hang on to it just a little longer.