Yesterday, the ice in the trees was breathtaking. The sun came out and shone upon them all, and the frozen twigs and branches sparkled in an unreal, almost mystical way. It was almost like watching spring happen early. A miniature spring, in fact, was happening: sunlight thawing the trees' fingertips, life forces swirling underneath the bark, stirred to awakening by the temporarily-forgotten sensation of warmth. A long winter's nap, disturbed until the next ice storm passes. Yet to a tree, this time is short. A brief opening of the eyes from slumber, only to see it is not yet time to wake.
There is a beauty in these slower processes which also exists in the faster ones, but those we overlook because they pass so quickly. We can sit and watch a sunset over a lake or mountain, but can we also gaze in awe upon the beauty in a passing stranger's eye? Someone dancing for a few seconds to a song without a care in the world; a drop of water landing in a puddle; two long-lost acquaintances embracing; a single stalk of grass swaying in the wind; a warm handshake from a new acquaintance; a laugh from across a coffee shop; a snowflake landing on your windshield, giving you a glimpse of a once-in-a-lifetime uniqueness before it melts away forever. These quick moments hold just as much beauty as anything else. They are just easier to miss.
Peace.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Sunday, December 8, 2013
The Mongolian Connection
So, I have always been a traveler. You could say I am afflicted with chronic wanderlust. I have often thought about living overseas for an extended amount of time. The idea of visiting a place for a few weeks does not particularly appeal to me as much as living somewhere for a few months, or even years. I want to really understand and experience any culture to which I am being introduced.
You may be surprised to hear in this context that I have never really wanted nor felt called to overseas missions work. It has not even mildly interested me in the past, even though I still plan on living in a different country (or countries) for several years of my life. Short-term missions in particular are what have made me dislike the idea of becoming a missionary. If I were to go into the mission field, it would be for an amount of time which would really get me into a culture, enough so I could be a citizen if I bothered with that process.
Due to its barren, wild landscape, interesting culture and history, and numerous important paleontological sites, Mongolia has always piqued my interest, one of the only Asian countries to do so.
This summer, a group called the Freedom Tour came through Lansing and held a weekend event at a local church. I attended on the last evening of it. During this time, they had everyone come up at least once to be prayed over and ask God for their calling, purpose, what they were made for, etc. Someone would be praying for you specifically and asking God for pictures and words about you, and another person would be writing it down. I went up for this. Among other things they said about me in which I could see God's truth, one of the words was something about being a light in Asia for God. They did say wheter anything which was prayed over me did or did not match up with what I already knew about God's calling for my life, pray about all of it. Since I had never considered missions work before (and especially not in Asia), I just took it in stride, although my mind went immediately to Mongolia as the only place which I would really consider.
Fast forward to this evening. I was at an event at the Furnace Prayer Room in East Lansing. A young man named Tyler was presenting something called the Ekballo Project, his idea for missions to the Himalayan region. During this time, I was reminded of what was said to me at the Freedom Tour event. I have become more acclimated to living in a more difficult situation, and although I have certain goals I am currently trying to attain, I would no longer put overseas missions out of the realm of possibility. With all of this in mind, I went up to the fellow after the presentation and prayer time was over and was about to ask if he could pray for me about this as a possibility for the future. Before I could ask, though, he said, "Have we met? Were you at the Freedom Tour this past year in Lansing?"
Whoa. As it turns out, this was in fact the same guy who had prayed over me at the event this summer! Now here I am asking for prayer about the very same things which were brought up at that time which are now in my head again. How very interesting.
Naturally, I would very much appreciate it if you all would pray God would guide me regarding the possibility of future missions to Mongolia. I will be praying a lot about it myself. Thank you.
Also, I finally have a job again! I am now working for Two Men and a Truck in Grand Rapids, where I will be living most of the week. My friend Andrew and I will hopefully be moved here fully in January.
Peace.
You may be surprised to hear in this context that I have never really wanted nor felt called to overseas missions work. It has not even mildly interested me in the past, even though I still plan on living in a different country (or countries) for several years of my life. Short-term missions in particular are what have made me dislike the idea of becoming a missionary. If I were to go into the mission field, it would be for an amount of time which would really get me into a culture, enough so I could be a citizen if I bothered with that process.
Due to its barren, wild landscape, interesting culture and history, and numerous important paleontological sites, Mongolia has always piqued my interest, one of the only Asian countries to do so.
This summer, a group called the Freedom Tour came through Lansing and held a weekend event at a local church. I attended on the last evening of it. During this time, they had everyone come up at least once to be prayed over and ask God for their calling, purpose, what they were made for, etc. Someone would be praying for you specifically and asking God for pictures and words about you, and another person would be writing it down. I went up for this. Among other things they said about me in which I could see God's truth, one of the words was something about being a light in Asia for God. They did say wheter anything which was prayed over me did or did not match up with what I already knew about God's calling for my life, pray about all of it. Since I had never considered missions work before (and especially not in Asia), I just took it in stride, although my mind went immediately to Mongolia as the only place which I would really consider.
Fast forward to this evening. I was at an event at the Furnace Prayer Room in East Lansing. A young man named Tyler was presenting something called the Ekballo Project, his idea for missions to the Himalayan region. During this time, I was reminded of what was said to me at the Freedom Tour event. I have become more acclimated to living in a more difficult situation, and although I have certain goals I am currently trying to attain, I would no longer put overseas missions out of the realm of possibility. With all of this in mind, I went up to the fellow after the presentation and prayer time was over and was about to ask if he could pray for me about this as a possibility for the future. Before I could ask, though, he said, "Have we met? Were you at the Freedom Tour this past year in Lansing?"
Whoa. As it turns out, this was in fact the same guy who had prayed over me at the event this summer! Now here I am asking for prayer about the very same things which were brought up at that time which are now in my head again. How very interesting.
Naturally, I would very much appreciate it if you all would pray God would guide me regarding the possibility of future missions to Mongolia. I will be praying a lot about it myself. Thank you.
Also, I finally have a job again! I am now working for Two Men and a Truck in Grand Rapids, where I will be living most of the week. My friend Andrew and I will hopefully be moved here fully in January.
Peace.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
The Rapture of the Forest
*This is an extended journal entry from my time in Idaho. I journaled nearly every single day. This entry was written after a walk along the road behind the farm.*
There is a single tree on the farm which is changing colours. Bright, flaming orange, and kind of scrawny.
Sometimes I pretend the clouds are mountains.
Sometimes I imagine the world is moving below the clouds instead of them above the earth. Walking becomes a totally different experience.
As I walked down the road, I realised the raven I heard behind me was catching up. I turn around to look for it, and its calls somehow passed me by, as if made by a phantom bird. Looking up, I see the black phantom high above me, higher than I thought ravens were ever interested in flying. It floated in tight circles on thermals, quickly moving on toward the wilderness.
After finding a cold stream and a trail leading up into the mountains, I turned back. On the road, something happened. I stopped to listen to the rocks. When I did, the forest and rocks sang out for just a moment. The song was deafened in short order by one of the weightiest silences I have ever experienced.
That silence. It almost felt as if some primeval behemoth had me locked in its gaze. I couldn't move.
The Ancient approaches in the silence of the wilderness. You cannot escape. You cannot move. You can only know the Weight of the Presence.
Primeval is the best word. A great power, unknowable, older than the world. No evil intention, yet fear grips you.
A great Deep. Everything stills itself for what seems like an eternity, except the wind. The wind brings this Presence. To and fro it roams. We may not meet again for some time. You cannot search for and find the Presence; you can, however, go out to meet it. Where you meet it is not up to you.
Minutes passed, unmoving. I could have stood there for hours.
The burden grows. You realise it is real. Then it begins to fade, moving on past you. Something breaks you trance, and you realise the Presence is already gone. The dream has passed, and you have woken up. Perhaps, though, this is now the dream, and you had let reality take hold of you for just a moment; now it is gone, and you slumber peacefully, waiting for the wake-up call and that great Dread to find you once again.
Peace.
There is a single tree on the farm which is changing colours. Bright, flaming orange, and kind of scrawny.
Sometimes I pretend the clouds are mountains.
Sometimes I imagine the world is moving below the clouds instead of them above the earth. Walking becomes a totally different experience.
As I walked down the road, I realised the raven I heard behind me was catching up. I turn around to look for it, and its calls somehow passed me by, as if made by a phantom bird. Looking up, I see the black phantom high above me, higher than I thought ravens were ever interested in flying. It floated in tight circles on thermals, quickly moving on toward the wilderness.
After finding a cold stream and a trail leading up into the mountains, I turned back. On the road, something happened. I stopped to listen to the rocks. When I did, the forest and rocks sang out for just a moment. The song was deafened in short order by one of the weightiest silences I have ever experienced.
That silence. It almost felt as if some primeval behemoth had me locked in its gaze. I couldn't move.
The Ancient approaches in the silence of the wilderness. You cannot escape. You cannot move. You can only know the Weight of the Presence.
Primeval is the best word. A great power, unknowable, older than the world. No evil intention, yet fear grips you.
A great Deep. Everything stills itself for what seems like an eternity, except the wind. The wind brings this Presence. To and fro it roams. We may not meet again for some time. You cannot search for and find the Presence; you can, however, go out to meet it. Where you meet it is not up to you.
Minutes passed, unmoving. I could have stood there for hours.
The burden grows. You realise it is real. Then it begins to fade, moving on past you. Something breaks you trance, and you realise the Presence is already gone. The dream has passed, and you have woken up. Perhaps, though, this is now the dream, and you had let reality take hold of you for just a moment; now it is gone, and you slumber peacefully, waiting for the wake-up call and that great Dread to find you once again.
Peace.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Solitude
So, not quite in contrast to my last post, but rather in spite of it, I have been feeling rather solitary since getting back from Idaho. We did not spend very much time around groups of people; it was really just Taylor, myself, and the farm owners most of the time. This probably had an effect on me. Fortunately, one result of this has been an increase in reading, which is great. I did not read for pleasure all through college, and it has taken some time for me to get back into the habit even after graduating. Since I have not spent much time around groups of people, I have also had a lot more time to think to myself. Being a natural introvert, all of this has been wonderful for me.
At the same time, it has felt a little strange. I have felt less inclined to take part in social situations. I suppose you could say I have been "peopled out." One-on-one time with friends has always appealed to me more, but now even more so than before. I do not think it is a bad thing, just a slight change.
I am still reading through some works of Thoreau, and probably will continue for some time. So far, he has really hit home in me with a lot of his ideas about nature and life. He strongly thinks that what happens to a man in nature can almost never be bad. Mosquitoes, cold weather, damp clothes...he practically embraces these experiences. The crazy part is...I feel similarly. We think that warmth and little work are the best ways to live; I would rather say many "comforts" keep us from actually living. To me, the wind howling through the treetops is a better comfort than the air conditioner on a hot day; a walk in the rain better than reclining on a couch; sleeping on the ground better than in a bed; the bite of a mosquito better than spending my days protected from the world; soggy shoes better than feet which are only used to go to work and back.
"Cold and damp are as rich experiences as warmth and dryness." ~ Thoreau
When you remove the mindset of "cold and damp are bad things and must be avoided at all costs," it really changes how you live. You become less afraid of "uncomfortable" experiences, and even begin to embrace them. Not only are those things full of their own richness of experience (strange as that may seem to some), but they serve to magnify the experiences we normally seek out. Sitting in front of a fire reading a book is infinitely more enjoyable and relaxing after a hard day's work in the field with wet shoes, for example. Changing my perspective on comfort was a very important moment for me, and it is continually helping me to live life more fully.
Peace.
At the same time, it has felt a little strange. I have felt less inclined to take part in social situations. I suppose you could say I have been "peopled out." One-on-one time with friends has always appealed to me more, but now even more so than before. I do not think it is a bad thing, just a slight change.
I am still reading through some works of Thoreau, and probably will continue for some time. So far, he has really hit home in me with a lot of his ideas about nature and life. He strongly thinks that what happens to a man in nature can almost never be bad. Mosquitoes, cold weather, damp clothes...he practically embraces these experiences. The crazy part is...I feel similarly. We think that warmth and little work are the best ways to live; I would rather say many "comforts" keep us from actually living. To me, the wind howling through the treetops is a better comfort than the air conditioner on a hot day; a walk in the rain better than reclining on a couch; sleeping on the ground better than in a bed; the bite of a mosquito better than spending my days protected from the world; soggy shoes better than feet which are only used to go to work and back.
"Cold and damp are as rich experiences as warmth and dryness." ~ Thoreau
When you remove the mindset of "cold and damp are bad things and must be avoided at all costs," it really changes how you live. You become less afraid of "uncomfortable" experiences, and even begin to embrace them. Not only are those things full of their own richness of experience (strange as that may seem to some), but they serve to magnify the experiences we normally seek out. Sitting in front of a fire reading a book is infinitely more enjoyable and relaxing after a hard day's work in the field with wet shoes, for example. Changing my perspective on comfort was a very important moment for me, and it is continually helping me to live life more fully.
Peace.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Happiness
So, as explained extensively in my last post, I feel bit different since returning from Idaho. One of ways this has been manifesting is in my general attitude on life. I may not sound much different to some, but inside I feel much more content with life. Life just seems better, more do-able. Maybe it is a result of all the other things which I realised while I was out West, or maybe it is a separate product of the trip, but I just plain feel better. Things which used to bother me a lot have much less of an effect on me. I also used to be very self-conscious, often thinking I was a bother to others or I had to be funny or useful to prove myself to those around me. My time in Idaho turned out to be a big self-esteem booster. Now, I understand more of my value as a person and son of God.
To be honest, I cannot recall when I have been so optimistic about life. Perhaps this is a result of dealing with a suicide while I was in Idaho; perhaps it was making the decision to move there and following through with it; perhaps it stems from all the reading I have been doing; perhaps it is through becoming reconnected to my lifelong dreams. Whatever the cause, I feel much more capable to succeed in life, and the little things which normally get in the way are unable to bring me down.
Thank You, God, for whatever You have done in me.
Peace.
To be honest, I cannot recall when I have been so optimistic about life. Perhaps this is a result of dealing with a suicide while I was in Idaho; perhaps it was making the decision to move there and following through with it; perhaps it stems from all the reading I have been doing; perhaps it is through becoming reconnected to my lifelong dreams. Whatever the cause, I feel much more capable to succeed in life, and the little things which normally get in the way are unable to bring me down.
Thank You, God, for whatever You have done in me.
Peace.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Westward 2013, debrief
SO, blogosphere, it appears that the King of the Wild Frontier has returned from his latest adventure and is ready to resume his online thought processing!
Most of you have heard my trip to Idaho was full of rewarding work and beautiful scenery. I could stop there, and it would be entirely accurate...but for those who want more, allow me to expound.
The trip out was an experience in and of itself. My friend Taylor and I camped in National Forests for free most of the way. We heard wolves in the mountains near one campsite, slept practically on the Continental Divide, and paid an arm and a leg to do next to nothing in Yellowstone National Park.
Once we got to the farm, things got even better. It was situated between three separate ranges of the Rockies (the Selkirks, Purcells, and Cabinets), and was far from any serious human clutter and noise. There was a small line of mountains right behind the farm, and I summited two of the peaks in one day: Line Point and Goat Mountain. Unfortunately, I neglected to plan well enough and almost had to spend the night on a mountainside in grizzly bear country. Heh, whoops.
The job itself was great. Good, hard work four days a week, and three-day weekends. I also realised how much farm work of this sort suits me. This should not have come as a surprise to me, as almost my entire family is comprised of farmers going back generations. I would strongly consider working for a similar farm (or even the same one) full-time whenever I settle down.
Our time on the farm (Ronniger's Organics, in case you were wondering) did include one very untimely event, though. Another intern who had been working there since around May shot and killed himself in his own cabin, which was just a hundred or so yards from our cabin and the owners' home. This came as a shock to everyone, and made things hard for quite some time. I have never dealt with death before, and especially not suicide. I am unsure what else to say about it, really...I was not particularly close to him, but our boss Simon was good friends with him, and he took it very hard for a while. Taylor and I just tried to keep our minds off it.
Changing topics completely now, I kept a journal every single day of the trip except five days while we were at the Barter Faire, which I will discuss later. Journaling regularly is something I have always wanted to do, but have never felt quite able or motivated enough to actually accomplish. It truly helped me to process my thoughts on a daily basis, kept me reading and writing, and strengthened my resolve to pursue some of my personal goals. I may post one or two journal entries here when I get the chance. I used my journal to also practice writing in general, and it is full of edits, so the posts will not be as raw as they are in their current state.
As I mentioned, I also read quite a bit. I finished "Into the Wild" by John Krakauer, the story of Chris McCandless, who abandoned everything he had after college to search for something...purpose, himself, the meaning of life, a real existence, God...he died alone in the Alaskan wilderness. His search, though, resounded in my soul, and showed what one young man can (and cannot) do if he sets his mind to it.
Next, I read "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek," an abstract Christian nature theology book by Annie Dillard which explores both the wonder and horror displayed in Creation. Very interesting and even beautiful at times, but very difficult to read. The descriptions of her experiences with the Spirit of God in nature really hit home in me.
A book which I have been trying to read for almost two years now, "'Hunting Trips of a Ranchman' and 'The Wilderness Hunter'" by Theodore Roosevelt, saw its completion on this trip. Roosevelt's descriptions of the West and life on the old prairie are the stuff of legend: tales of hunting grizzly bears, sleeping in buffalo robes, and heading out on horseback for days with nothing but a blanket, a gun, and some bread and water.
I also began reading some Henry David Thoreau, whose writings were referenced by Krakauer and Dillard. His longings for solitude in nature, yet also true friendship, also echo deep in my soul. I have yet to finish the compilation of his works I am reading, though, so I have not fully developed my thoughts on him yet.
Now, before finishing up, let me quickly explain the Barter Faire, which I mentioned in passing earlier. It is actually called the Okanogan Family Faire, and is located roughly in central Washington. The fair takes place over about five days, and is a combination of a giant farmers' market, a music festival, a county fair, and a hippie festival...and I am very serious about the hippies. This place was almost like a dream come true for me: trading vegetables for other goods, working and having fun at the same time, and giant, intense drum circles all night long. Yes, drum circles. The event was basically the end of our time working at the farm, and certainly was a great way to finish the season, as Simon told us it would be.
All in all, my time in Idaho served to shape me more fully as a man. I will always have room to grow, of course, but I can identify very specific areas of growth. First, again as mentioned earlier, my resolve was strengthened. Through helping me identify what I truly value in life (that is, who and whose opinions are important to me, my true passions and life goals, and the lifestyle I want to pursue), God strengthened my motivation to take certain steps. These include: moving out of the Lansing area and living with my friend Andrew (who is also trying to move forward in life and chase the westward dream), educating myself on geology and paleontology for now, and saving up to move to Durango, CO as soon as possible. Several occurrences prior to my departure and the lessons I learned while in Idaho have made it clear that the time to sit and wait is over: now is the time for action. So, Andrew and I are moving to Grand Rapids this January, where we will be working and getting ready to eventually move away.
Second, I learned about working hard and working over your scheduled time in order to complete a job. Perhaps it was easier because I enjoyed the job so much, but my time on the farm helped me understand the importance of work in life. I do not view work as a bad thing, or as something I must do in order to make a living, but rather as an opportunity to serve others and build up oneself at the same time. I used to complain about staying late at previous jobs, but now I see doing the work well and seeing it to completion is actually quite personally rewarding.
Third, making this trip happen was in itself a very important moment of growth. I have never done something this "crazy" before, but after being on the farm for a few weeks I realised it was not so crazy after all. In fact, it felt right...and almost normal. This realisation was very important for my life in the future. Now I can see doing things like this is both very possible and absolutely fantastic.
I hope this sheds more light on what the trip meant to me. Naturally, there is still much left unsaid, but such is life. I would like to express all the lessons I learned, ways I grew, and experiences I had to all of you, but I simply cannot. They are my own, and belong to no other.
Please, I urge you to take the step you are too afraid to take, shoot for the goal you think impossible, and make your own dreams come true. It can be done, and once you try, you will be living life on a new level. Then, the lessons, growth, and experiences will be all yours. Then, God will show you things about yourself you never imagined.
Peace.
Most of you have heard my trip to Idaho was full of rewarding work and beautiful scenery. I could stop there, and it would be entirely accurate...but for those who want more, allow me to expound.
The trip out was an experience in and of itself. My friend Taylor and I camped in National Forests for free most of the way. We heard wolves in the mountains near one campsite, slept practically on the Continental Divide, and paid an arm and a leg to do next to nothing in Yellowstone National Park.
Once we got to the farm, things got even better. It was situated between three separate ranges of the Rockies (the Selkirks, Purcells, and Cabinets), and was far from any serious human clutter and noise. There was a small line of mountains right behind the farm, and I summited two of the peaks in one day: Line Point and Goat Mountain. Unfortunately, I neglected to plan well enough and almost had to spend the night on a mountainside in grizzly bear country. Heh, whoops.
The job itself was great. Good, hard work four days a week, and three-day weekends. I also realised how much farm work of this sort suits me. This should not have come as a surprise to me, as almost my entire family is comprised of farmers going back generations. I would strongly consider working for a similar farm (or even the same one) full-time whenever I settle down.
Our time on the farm (Ronniger's Organics, in case you were wondering) did include one very untimely event, though. Another intern who had been working there since around May shot and killed himself in his own cabin, which was just a hundred or so yards from our cabin and the owners' home. This came as a shock to everyone, and made things hard for quite some time. I have never dealt with death before, and especially not suicide. I am unsure what else to say about it, really...I was not particularly close to him, but our boss Simon was good friends with him, and he took it very hard for a while. Taylor and I just tried to keep our minds off it.
Changing topics completely now, I kept a journal every single day of the trip except five days while we were at the Barter Faire, which I will discuss later. Journaling regularly is something I have always wanted to do, but have never felt quite able or motivated enough to actually accomplish. It truly helped me to process my thoughts on a daily basis, kept me reading and writing, and strengthened my resolve to pursue some of my personal goals. I may post one or two journal entries here when I get the chance. I used my journal to also practice writing in general, and it is full of edits, so the posts will not be as raw as they are in their current state.
As I mentioned, I also read quite a bit. I finished "Into the Wild" by John Krakauer, the story of Chris McCandless, who abandoned everything he had after college to search for something...purpose, himself, the meaning of life, a real existence, God...he died alone in the Alaskan wilderness. His search, though, resounded in my soul, and showed what one young man can (and cannot) do if he sets his mind to it.
Next, I read "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek," an abstract Christian nature theology book by Annie Dillard which explores both the wonder and horror displayed in Creation. Very interesting and even beautiful at times, but very difficult to read. The descriptions of her experiences with the Spirit of God in nature really hit home in me.
A book which I have been trying to read for almost two years now, "'Hunting Trips of a Ranchman' and 'The Wilderness Hunter'" by Theodore Roosevelt, saw its completion on this trip. Roosevelt's descriptions of the West and life on the old prairie are the stuff of legend: tales of hunting grizzly bears, sleeping in buffalo robes, and heading out on horseback for days with nothing but a blanket, a gun, and some bread and water.
I also began reading some Henry David Thoreau, whose writings were referenced by Krakauer and Dillard. His longings for solitude in nature, yet also true friendship, also echo deep in my soul. I have yet to finish the compilation of his works I am reading, though, so I have not fully developed my thoughts on him yet.
Now, before finishing up, let me quickly explain the Barter Faire, which I mentioned in passing earlier. It is actually called the Okanogan Family Faire, and is located roughly in central Washington. The fair takes place over about five days, and is a combination of a giant farmers' market, a music festival, a county fair, and a hippie festival...and I am very serious about the hippies. This place was almost like a dream come true for me: trading vegetables for other goods, working and having fun at the same time, and giant, intense drum circles all night long. Yes, drum circles. The event was basically the end of our time working at the farm, and certainly was a great way to finish the season, as Simon told us it would be.
All in all, my time in Idaho served to shape me more fully as a man. I will always have room to grow, of course, but I can identify very specific areas of growth. First, again as mentioned earlier, my resolve was strengthened. Through helping me identify what I truly value in life (that is, who and whose opinions are important to me, my true passions and life goals, and the lifestyle I want to pursue), God strengthened my motivation to take certain steps. These include: moving out of the Lansing area and living with my friend Andrew (who is also trying to move forward in life and chase the westward dream), educating myself on geology and paleontology for now, and saving up to move to Durango, CO as soon as possible. Several occurrences prior to my departure and the lessons I learned while in Idaho have made it clear that the time to sit and wait is over: now is the time for action. So, Andrew and I are moving to Grand Rapids this January, where we will be working and getting ready to eventually move away.
Second, I learned about working hard and working over your scheduled time in order to complete a job. Perhaps it was easier because I enjoyed the job so much, but my time on the farm helped me understand the importance of work in life. I do not view work as a bad thing, or as something I must do in order to make a living, but rather as an opportunity to serve others and build up oneself at the same time. I used to complain about staying late at previous jobs, but now I see doing the work well and seeing it to completion is actually quite personally rewarding.
Third, making this trip happen was in itself a very important moment of growth. I have never done something this "crazy" before, but after being on the farm for a few weeks I realised it was not so crazy after all. In fact, it felt right...and almost normal. This realisation was very important for my life in the future. Now I can see doing things like this is both very possible and absolutely fantastic.
I hope this sheds more light on what the trip meant to me. Naturally, there is still much left unsaid, but such is life. I would like to express all the lessons I learned, ways I grew, and experiences I had to all of you, but I simply cannot. They are my own, and belong to no other.
Please, I urge you to take the step you are too afraid to take, shoot for the goal you think impossible, and make your own dreams come true. It can be done, and once you try, you will be living life on a new level. Then, the lessons, growth, and experiences will be all yours. Then, God will show you things about yourself you never imagined.
Peace.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Detroit
North I-75. Factories, industrial wasteland. Morning rush hour traffic. The sleep my body begs for is being kept at bay by a few sips of coffee from forty minutes ago.
Why am I driving? Friends, of course.
Seriously though, why am I awake right now? I'm driving through the city, I should be asleep, my back hurts...
The highway beneath me vaults upward. Is this a bridge? What am I driving over?
I summit the highway peak and look out over the cement valley.
Seriously though, why am I awake right now? I'm driving through the city, I should be asleep, my back hurts...
The highway beneath me vaults upward. Is this a bridge? What am I driving over?
I summit the highway peak and look out over the cement valley.
The Detroit skyline. The bridge to Canada. The sun half-shining through a slit in the clouds above the city. The traffic rushes around me as the unexpectedly beautiful scene floats unmoving in my front windshield.
The natural beauty of God's creation shines in the sky above, and the beauty of God's creativity shines through the ingenuity of man. Beauty is everywhere.
Maybe I just need more sleep. My back hurts.
The picture is burned into my memory, though.
Peace.
The natural beauty of God's creation shines in the sky above, and the beauty of God's creativity shines through the ingenuity of man. Beauty is everywhere.
Maybe I just need more sleep. My back hurts.
The picture is burned into my memory, though.
Peace.
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