Irreligious.

"I'm often accused of being irreligious, and I suppose it's for this very reason. Whether it's Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Catholicism, Hinduism, Judaism, or any other ism, when a religion is created on the subtle premise that God withholds his love and you must submit to the system to earn that love, I consider it the worst of corruptions.

But again, these traps work only because of two things: we long for love, and we are convinced that all love is conditional. 

Ironically, this is where so many have a problem with Jesus. For centuries the church has been telling us if we want God to love us, we need to follow the rules. It's been far more important to focus on the sin problem than the love problem. This is the only way the institution can maintain control over our lives. After all, if love is unconditional, what will keep them following our rules?…

What governments have not always been able to do, religions have accomplished with amazing effectiveness. They keep people in line. 

What in the world would happen if people actually began discovering the message of Jesus - that love is unconditional?"
-Erwin McManus

No matter what.

"I will always forgive you.

I will always be here for you.

I will always help as you will let me.

There's nothing you can do that will scare me off, or cause me to cease being in your life supporting you.

As long as you want me there in your life, there I will be, helping you achieve what's best for you.

Don't worry about your inadequacies, for you are only human, and a beautiful work in progress. We are all works in progress.

I hope in our relationship and interaction you will always know you are safe, to be you, in your highs and lows, in your triumphs, your fears, your failures.

I hope you know that you will always be accepted just as you are.

I do not love some future version of you, but you today, just as you are.

No matter how distant you are, whether you decide you hate me, no matter how cold you may be, I will always care about you.

I will always believe in you.

I will always stand up for you and stand by you.

Regardless of your actions, you will always deserve to be loved, and I hope you always remember that you are."

-Agape

Packing for your Journey.

Journey - (n) 1. a traveling from one place to another, usually taking a rather long time; trip: 2. a distance, course, or area traveled or suitable for traveling; 3. a period of travel; 4. passage or progress from one stage to another; (v) 5. to make a journey; to travel

When planning for a journey, packing the essential items is of the utmost importance. You can only carry so much, and for the circumstances and situations you may encounter, you're not going to want to be left in a pinch without the necessary tools to get you through. So whatever your journey, whether personal or physical, whether you're backpacking across Europe, playing soccer in Brazil, volunteering in India, going on walkabout across Australia, taking a road trip around the Rocky Mountains, hiking the Scottish Highlands, teaching English in a foreign country, or something else entirely, the following is a list of the indispensable items to pack. But first, it's important to note the items better left out of the proverbial suitcase (or backpack), for if we accidentally fill our luggage with non-essentials, we won't have any room for the crucial items.

First, leave at home (or discard completely) any and all prejudices, and closed-mindedness in general, for the world is a vast place filled with people living and living well, and while perhaps different than the way you are accustomed to defining how to live, this does not mean their way of life is invalid, or ineffective.

Leave behind the idea that you have nothing left to learn. You will always be wrong if you actually believe this.

Leave behind the idea that communication is simply the statement of words that have been given associations, the black-and-white idea that 'this word always means this one thing'. For you will find that effective communication is much more complex. It takes time, understanding, listening, redefining words according to how the person who is speaking them means them, etc. Instead, aim to convey concepts and ideas successfully, the images and thoughts beyond the words, rather than simply the words themselves.

Leave behind pride and arrogance, for they are never helpful other than to assist in your isolation from others.

Leave behind vanity, a weight you'll soon regret bearing as you tramp from place to place, recognizing that there are more worthwhile things with which to concern oneself.

Leave behind cynicism, for the world is not so bleak as you think. And yet, while in some ways it will be bleaker than you imagined, no change will occur if your attitude already forces you to sit in darkness.

Leave behind a need to live a completely predictable life, or any firm grip upon schedules. Other people and cultures will operate within different rhythms than you're used to, and even if you get exactly what you asked for in an experience, a journey guarantees it won't be exactly as you expected.

Finally, leave room in your life for change, for growth, and to bring back home with you new perspectives, new vision, perhaps even some new aspects of who you are.

Now that we've cleared out unnecessary items, in my humble experience, these following things are absolutely essential when embarking upon a journey of any kind.

Bring with you open-mindedness. Be open to the potential for change and growth to occur, for your horizons to be broadened, to giving someone else the space to exist, recognizing that you are both alive, in your different ways, and it is good that you are both alive and bring something new to the table. Wisdom is found all over, and every moment has something worthwhile to teach, if you are listening.

Bring with you an interest in other people, in the strange, in the 'other', for you never know when you might have encountered a future friend. Be prepared for their arrival in your existence with questions to help you get to know them, good travel games, icebreakers, and an ability to listen, both to what people do say, and what they don't say.

Bring with you a spirit of adventure. Be open to seeing those inconveniences you're certain to encounter as yet another opportunity for an adventure.

Bring with you a sturdy pair of walking shoes. The best way to see a place, a country, etc, is by walking, and oh the blisters you will acquire. But think of the places your feet will have taken you, the growth you will incur, represented by the tough skin developing upon the soles of your feet, evidence that you can persevere, develop strength, and survive.

Bring with you a journal, something to write upon. You'll want to remember the details, great and small, of such a journey. They'll be priceless to reflect upon in the years to come.

Bring with you faith:
In people,
In a higher power and the realization that your needs will be provided for,
In a sense of order in this world,
In the potential for growth, change, beauty, majesty, honor, nobility - life will always surprise you.
You'll need to trust people, and I guarantee you won't be able to go your entire trip without relying on someone. Generally, people are willing to help, trying to do their best, and they're absolutely the best source from which to learn new things.

Bring with you a keen perceptive sense. Notice everything. For safety. For comparison. For interest. For knowledge. For wisdom.

Finally, bring with you a search for truth. Don't stop searching just because you think you've found part of it. "And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." -Hamlet

To Live in Italy.

What it's like to live in Italy:

First things first, the schedule. Italians wake up later, eat dinner later (8:00 pm / 20:00 is early for most restaurants), and 'riposo' is a highly enforced time in the smaller Italian cities. Riposo is like siesta time in Spain, only it's the Italian version. Every day, from 13:00 to 16:00/16:30, most shops close, restaurants take a break, and most Italians take an afternoon nap. All over the smaller towns the volume diminishes, and neighbors have been known to come by and request you shut off your music or dim the volume, as they are literally attempting to nap, in the middle of the day, ever day. It's brilliant. I once joined an Italian for their lunch break. They left work at 13:00, picked me up, and we went to their parents' house to enjoy a homemade Italian meal. Then, we watched a movie, and at about 16:00, they turned to me and said it was probably time for them to go back to work. I love it.

As for the meals, breakfast is similar to that of the French. It's some form of croissant, with Nutella (delicious chocolate liquid substance), cream, or plain, and coffee, an espresso, etc. You will not likely find eggs and bacon as you may know breakfast to include in the States. Lunch in Italy is light, and often skipped altogether. Lunch is also often skipped by many Italians, but if taken, it's later in the day, typically after noon, usually around 13:00 or later. Depending on the job, it's not a hard-and-fast lunch hour break either, but as I learned from my friend, lunch time is flexible, savored, and sometimes even slightly prolonged.

When the Italians communicate, they're louder than we might imagine. What sounds like a verbal fight to an American is simply casual conversation to an Italian. It's not uncommon to find a man walk into a store to order something, and engage in what looks like a verbal altercation with the employee, only to find them depart from the interaction pleasantly. The onlooking foreigner is often left confused if unaware of the social norms of public conversation. But when they are actually fighting, the Italians aren't afraid to show their emotions of hostility in public, out in the open. I was once at a train station and had front row seats to a woman and her husband engaging in what would be considered a heated domestic dispute in the States.

Also, Italians talk with their hands. If ever you need to interrupt an Italian, you need to physically grab their arms and hold them down to their sides.

What about shopping? Markets are rampant in Italy, and they're typically the best places to find 1) the freshest food, 2) the cheapest deals, and 3) the best and most authentic clothing.

When trying on clothes at an Italian market, clothes are hanging everywhere from a small stand, and you're less likely to be able to look at one item and ask if they have it in another size. If you're lucky, they will. But it's not guaranteed as in the big department stores, etc. When you find what you like and want to try it on, you'll be guided to a van with a sliding door, that's been gutted for this sole purpose, and to hold all the merchandise at the end of the day. They bring you a mirror and let you change, hoping that any approaching the van will at least knock before entering. You're also able to barter in the Italian market system.

Depending on the city, markets are open all around the area, on various days of the week. Some are larger, some are smaller, all are filled with vendors selling a variety of clothing, shoes, household objects (including the occasional giant wooden spoon), food, even pets, etc. These markets are different from the ones you'll find at tourist traps; the types of vendors in touristy areas display and sell things like Pinocchio dolls, vulgar cooking aprons, and mups that lean with a picture of the Tower of Pisa on the front, that also lights up.

With no Walmart equivalent in the country of Italy, medicine, etc is found at the Pharmacia, while stamps, phone cards, cigarettes, etc are found at the local Tobacci store. A separate grocery shop/market (indoors) holds the food, perishable and nonperishable, and typically all stores close down at the late hour of 20:00, 21:00 if they're a bit rebellious.

The food in Italy is, as you've probably heard, incredible. My favorite? Proscuitto crudo. It will set you free. 'Prosciutto' is the Italian word for ham, and the 'crudo' style is a dry-cured ham, sliced thinly and served uncooked. It is to be distinguished from 'prosciutto cotto', which is cooked, and, in my opinion, less delicious. :)

Fruit and veggies are freshest at the local markets, and open six days a week, Italian hours. Often the 'grocery stores' have less fresh food, and they'll often require you to bag each item individually. (Italy is less environmental than some countries and cultures, which I will get to later.)

You won't find frozen ice for purchase in Italy, and they have less quantities of bottled water than you'll find in the States. 

Environmentally, Italy is less concerned with the issue of Italy than Texas is, home of the "Don't Mess with Texas" motto, a program against littering statewide. I've seen Italians throw entire meals out their car window, and walking along the streets you'll find anything from cigarette butts to whole pieces of food discarded. Not all of Italy/Italians feel this way, however. Italy has free water fountains all over the cities, with delicious drinking water available, and flowing nonstop.

As far as the beaches go, nudity in the Mediterranean is more common that we're accustomed to in the States. It's not uncommon for girls at toddler age to run around in only half a bathing suit, and the adult male is more often than not found donning the infamous speedo.

In terms of their homes, Italy is not a country that believes highly in the use of indoor air-conditioning. Instead, most houses have large awnings they can extend when the sun is beating down, and windows also come equipped with large shutters that can easily be opened, closed, slightly cracked, or completely sealed, shutting off all light and a great deal of heat from the outside. Homes will often have individual AC units, only broken out in dire situations, or for sleeping at night.

While most homes do have a washer for laundry, the load size is significantly smaller than the American standard, and it is rare to find a house equipped with a dryer for the clothes as well. For dishes and clothing, most Europeans don't dry either by machine, but instead allow nature and time to take its course. Each house is equipped with lines outside some window or balcony to hang clothes amidst the daylight warmth and air, and every European I've ever met owns a clothes-drying stand easily purchased at IKEA, for drying clothes inside when the weather is cold or the night falls.

In August, Italians, and all creatures of the Mediterranean, head on 'holiday' ('vacation' in the States, 'holiday' in Europe), anxious to escape the heat. The country typically has a month of holiday, as is the case in a great portion of Europe. In some places holiday has dwindled to a mere two weeks, but overall, Europe is more general with their vacation time as a culture than the United States. A friend in France has a standard annual holiday allotment of five weeks (she's worked at the company for 3 months), a number that will only increase with her tenure at the company.

Dogs in Italy are fiercely loyal to their masters, and all over Europe they're allowed almost anywhere, it seems. I've seen dogs in the streets, in the shops, of course on the beaches, on the trains, on the metro, even in the Apple store. Often they'll be walking alongside their owner sans leash, and never seem to stray very far, regardless of being completely unhindered from doing so.

The Italian personality is fascinating. Italians are passionate and have a zest for life, but when it comes to logistics, they're frequently unreliable, and proud to be so. Italian planes and trains always run on their own timetable, indifferent to whether you are in the know or not. It is not unusual for an Italian train to be 45 minutes behind schedule, or for an Italian plane company to shut down a flight and simply not reschedule it. Often Italian trains will switch platforms, despite what the board says. So if you aren't paying attention, you just might be standing at the wrong platform as your train leaves from a nearby platform.



And this only scratches the surface. Italy is a fascinating place, filled with a zest for life, passionate personalities, and culture that is intellectual, diverse, and thriving.

Italy: Add it to your bucket list. ;)

Be brave. Breathe.

Life is not always easy.

No matter how old or young we are, weathered or sheltered, broken or whole, trudging or flying, wise or naive, brave or fearful, rich or poor, foreign or local, conservative or liberal, black, white, or anything in between, you, the reader, already know that this is true.

Sometimes life is really hard.

Sometimes we've been hurt by someone, whether the situation at hand is a breakup, divorce, someone lied/deceived us, a form of abuse, cruelty, neglect, persecution, judgment, or a misunderstanding gone awry.

Sometimes struggles happen that are out of anyone's control. Perhaps someone dies, and we get left behind; perhaps someone gets sick, a natural disaster occurs, there's an accident, the opportunity goes to someone else, plans and timing don't go the way we wish they would, etc. Perhaps the time is defined as boredom, angst, despair, alienation, or we simply have to wait.

Perhaps the struggle lasts a few days. Perhaps it carries on into months and even years. The nature of the struggle is that it often defines itself as it transpires.

When the struggles come, I've found we often wish we could sleep through them, fast-forward to the good parts, time travel to when the waiting was worthwhile and paid off - because it is the waiting through the struggle that seems so hard. It is living in the day to day that seems to prove time can slow down and drag by, as we wait for the promise tomorrow brings, or we hope it brings.

In a way it would be nice to sleep through the days/months/years of struggle, simply to wake up when the hard part is over. In the fairy tales, Snow White or Sleeping Beauty slept through the tough parts of the story. Of course we all cringed when we watched them eat the poison apple or touch the cursed spindle, but when facing a pain in this life that you must simply "endure" or "wait it out," I'll be the first to admit that sleeping through it seems like a choice I'd be happy to give a try. Hand me that poison apple or cursed spindle and let me wake up when this thing is all over. After all, I do like a good, long nap. When you awaken, the world will be as it should, the waiting will be over, and that handsome prince, (Mattel, the creators of the modern fairy tale 'Barbie,' would call him 'Ken'), will wake me up and tell me that while I've been sleeping he defeated the proverbial dragon.

I've always liked philosophy. My favorite is Existentialism. The existentialists are brilliant and strong; they discuss the nature of living and the nature of existence, and what it means to exist. These guys don't just pass the time, they really live, and they challenge us to do the same. They challenge us to really exist, and to make our breaths count. They pursue what it means to live a meaningful and fulfilled existence.

They emerged and wrote during periods in history when struggle was happening on national and global fronts, when the question of what made a meaningful life had to be answered. The days they were facing were far from easy, but rather filled with trial, pain, misery, loss, and many, many questions.

In times when so many were letting the despair of the times cause them to crumble, the existentialists were fighting an internal battle, defining for each moment a meaningfulness to life, in their own way. They were seeking how to live passionately and sincerely, in the midst of obstacles, distractions, and tribulations that could lead the individual to simply sit through today, only living for the coming of tomorrow.

I think I love them so much because I admire their bravery. They fight for purpose and don't shrink back when life deals them a tough hand.

It's a brave thing, to breathe.

It is a brave thing, to live, facing the struggle, the conflict, the pain, the trial, and to face it head on.

It is a brave thing, to breathe, despite all the circumstances that could potentially convince you it's not worth it.

Perhaps it would be easier to sleep, to let go, to give up, to run away, to stop caring, to fall away.

But...

to stay awake,

to press in,

to hold on,

to wait patiently,

to keep fighting, 

to continue loving,

to stick around,

to continue caring,

to remain passionate,

to pursue meaning in the struggle,

to continue living,

to keep walking,

...despite all the terrible things that lie ahead on the path - that is profound bravery.

But why should we carry on? 

Why not? 

Who are you to say tomorrow can't be beautiful? 

Your hands are quite capable of change, and there are plenty of people in this world that need to be helped, inspired, encouraged, fed, comforted, kept company, appreciated, valued, clothed, visited, nurtured, and loved.

It is often in our struggles that we learn better how to care for others, that we often learn traits such as empathy and compassion for one another, on levels deeper and greater than before we knew what it meant to struggle and suffer.

Besides, when the days seem long and unbearable...

Keep in mind that today is only 24 hours long, and tomorrow hold tremendous promise.

Keep in mind that these storms never last forever.  Harriet Beecher Stowe once said, "When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn." 

Keep in mind that dawn in coming, and surely fast approaches. 

Robert Frost reminds us, "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: It goes on."

Keep in mind that even the most trying of times are made a little more bearable when there's someone around to hold your hand, and weather the storm with you. 

And if all that isn't good enough for you, keep this is mind: 

You, I, all of us, have been through struggle. 

We've been through some sort of pain, suffering, misery, confusion, doubt, disbelief, etc - and we're now here, reading this, writing this, enduring this - surviving. 

Keep in mind that while breathing takes profound bravery in times such as these, it is so worthwhile.

I take strength from the existentialists, because regardless of what they define as meaningful, they all rise above struggle, live in the midst of it, and pursue meaning in spite of whatever pain they may be enduring.

But that's the beauty of the existentialists. They may define meaning in different ways, but they all, in the beauty of the movement, ask the questions and press into life. It matters not so much about the specific answers they each came to find. But the beauty is that their struggle is our struggle, and we are each called to determine what it is that makes our days worth living, as Kierkegaard said, "...to find the idea for which I can live and die."

When I say survive, I mean your heart can carry on. I mean the loss/grief/confusion/struggle you may be dealing with doesn't have to break you. Doesn't have to mean that you'll be in pain and struggle forever. 

Often in literature and movies, rain is an archetype for change. 

It may be raining in your life, and life may be changing. 

But it's certainly not ending. 

Today, you're still alive, still breathing, and you can do something with those breaths. 

I don't know what it is, that's for you to figure out. 

I have my own meaning to find, my own trials and battles to fight, to breathe through, to win. 

But the point is: your existence is not without purpose, and the fact that you're still breathing in the midst of and beyond the trial, beyond the loss, during the pain means you still very much have something to give. 

You still have 

something to offer, 

something to create, 

people to inspire, 

books to read, 

movies to watch, 

things to learn, 

miles/kilometers to travel,

adventures to have, 

countries to visit, 

people to meet, 

hands to shake and hold, 

lives to change and make better, 

smiles to cause, 

laughter to share, 

joy to be had and found, 

things to be discovered...

You still have a life to be lived. 

So be brave, fellow human. Breathe, and continue living.   

For this life, this trial, this struggle is only meaningless if you say it is. 

"Listen as your day unfolds

Challenge what the future holds

Try and keep your head up to the sky

Lovers they may cause you tears

Go ahead, release your fears

Stand up and be counted

Don't be ashamed to cry."

-Des'ree 

 "For I consider that our present sufferings 
are not worth comparing 
with the glory that will be revealed in us."
-Romans 8:18

  

"You desire to know the art of living, my friend? 

It is contained in one phrase: make use of suffering." 

- Henri-Frederic Amiel 

"Life is meaningless only if we allow it to be. Each of us has the power to give life meaning, to make our time and our bodies and our words into instruments of love and hope." 
- Tom Head

Lines in the sand.

Dear "the Other",

I'm not supposed to like you, I'm told. 

I'm told that you and I, we aren't supposed to interact. 

They say you're different, what you believe and the way you do things. 

They say you're naive, ignorant of the way things really work. 

They say you're a coward, too weak to do the right thing. 

They say you're arrogant, refusing to see the other side.

They say you're dangerous, and that the carelessness of your hands leads to evil. 

They tell me we shouldn't be friends. 

They tell me we can't be friends, that your kind and my kind - we don't get along.
They tell me we'll never see eye to eye.

They tell me people like you don't play well with people like me.

They tell me people like me can't trust people like you.

But from the first moment we met, you've seemed nice. 

In fact...

You're clever and talented, in your own unique way.

You're intelligent and creative, brimming with ideas.

You love and pursue beauty, even if you define 'beauty' differently than I do sometimes.

You're passionate, perhaps about different things, but just as mine, your passion makes you come alive.

You want to save the world, just as I do, even if we don't always agree on what that looks like.

You're human, just like me.

You were born one day, and you will die one day, just like me. 

You breathe oxygen, you need sleep, you eat food, just like me.

You feel pain, pleasure; you have feelings, dreams, goals, and fears, just like me.

The more I see that heart of yours, the more I see that you're just trying to live this life the best way you know how.

It would seem we're all on our path, and I see that your path has brought you to different places than mine has.

But the more I look around this ocean of existence, the more I see people who don't have all the answers, just like me, people who are all just trying to live this life the best way they know how, just like me.

To be honest, you don't seem all that bad.

In fact, I really like who you are.

Other people, from the different sides we come; they seem keen on yelling at each other.

They tell me that's what I should be doing, that I should be yelling at you.

They tell you that you should be yelling at me.

Our alleged sides demand we take up arms against each other.

But don't they see that all this yelling can be hurtful to people?

I look at them yelling, taking sides against the other, and before you know it, we're left with violent hearts and violent hands.

I think, by drawing lines in the sand, we're hurting each other. Or we're at least failing to value and respect each other, which ultimately causes damage as well. 

I don't see the point.

If all we do is yell at each other, how will we ever listen to one another?

I know, I know. They tell me it's dangerous to listen to the "other".

But listening doesn't have to mean we change our opinions, beliefs, perspectives, or stances, does it?

All listening means is that we're listening.
All listening means is that we're giving someone else room to exist.

Aristotle said "It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it."

Maybe by learning how to interact we could grow a little bit.

I'd like to listen, and see the world through your eyes, if only for a moment.

It doesn't have to change me.

They keep drawing lines in the sand, but can't they see their lines are only serving to box them in?

It seems to me we could be missing out on relationships, interactions that could really serve to nurture us, inspire us, challenge us, and make us better versions of ourselves.

After all, why must where I stand require someone to stand against? 

I don’t think it does.

In the eternal words of Dispatch’s 'The General', “I have seen the others, and I have discovered that this fight is not worth fighting.”

I once heard about a guy named Jesus.

He spent a lot of time with people that “they” told him he shouldn’t.

The standards ‘they’ set down didn’t seem to work for him.

Instead, he walked with people, he spent time with the ‘other’.

He went into their homes,

held their hands,

met their families,

came to their work,

had dinner with them,

cried with them,

laughed with them,

talked with them,

went to parties with them,

sailed with them,

endured pain and suffering with them,
listened to them, 

etc.

Instead of drawing lines in the sand, he walked with people.

I like this concept.

I look at you, and I like who you are.

I wonder if, given the opportunity, we could learn a thing or two from each other.

It’s impossible, they say.

But perhaps they’re wrong.

Maybe it’s not impossible. Maybe it’s just harder than easy, sometimes.

I’m sure it’s not always easy to walk with someone so potentially different.

Maybe some days it will take added patience and creativity, as we figure out what interaction looks like with the ‘other.’

It would definitely be easier to only interact with people that looked just like me, talked just like me, thought just like me, believed just like me, had a similar story to me.

But I’d rather not restrict myself to only looking in a mirror all day, for the rest of my life.

I’d rather grow, listen, see you, and value you as a person, despite our differences.

I don’t think it has to change me, what I think, what I believe, where I stand.

I think it’s a worthwhile endeavor.

They tell me I should hate you,

mock you,

shun you,

stay away from you…

But I’d rather call you ‘friend.’

I don’t want to draw lines in the sand.

I’d rather let these ocean waves sweep over the lines we’ve been told to draw.

I’d rather walk with you.

I like who you are.

I wouldn’t have seen that, and how much we could laugh together, cry together, grow together, learn together, or play together, had either of us decided the lines were more important than the person.

Perhaps instead of drawing lines, we could build sand castles, for “if he can build sand castles, he can build community.”

Just think of the friendship and blessing I’d be missing out on if I’d listened to them.

Instead, I’m off.

You and I have a sand castle to build.  

Love,  

Your Enemy Friend 

“Once you label me, you negate me.” –Kierkegaard

“I have learned that a man has the right to look down on another only when he has to help the other get to his feet.”

“There’s nothing noble in being superior to your fellow men. True nobility is being superior to your former self.” –Ernest Hemingway

The most important phrase to learn...

When visiting someone's home, Emily Post/Mrs. Manners would teach that you are a guest in their home, and therefore it is important not to get too comfortable. It would be respectful for you to try to operate by their rhythms, their schedule, etc.

When traveling, the same rule applies. You are not in your own country, you are in someone else's. Therefore, it is wise, polite, and extraordinarily helpful to learn a bit of the local rhythms, specifically, the language.

However, this can prove challenging when you're traveling through countries at rapid fire pace, sometimes one country in one day and night, then on to the next country with their language that hardly resembles the language their neighbors speak. Being a lifetime citizen of the United States of "We only speak one language and not always well", I will admit my lack of fluent languages under my belt, although this is something I intend to remedy in the years that follow.

So, in the event that you find yourself backpacking across Europe and don't have the opportunity to fluently learn German, French, Swedish, Norwegian, Finnish, Czech, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Croatian, Slovak, Polish, Russian, etc, a simple suggestion I've found most effective is to learn at least one phrase, one specific phrase.

If you learn nothing else, this phrase, I believe, will speak volumes, and for multiple reasons.

My personal opinion: One of the most important phrases to learn how to say in a language is "thank you."

Scratch that. One of the most important phrases to learn, bar none, is the phrase "thank you." Trust me, not only will this make interpersonal interaction and communication as you travel run a whole lot smoother, but it also benefits your inner world as well.

First of all, you'll need it when the locals are patient with you, putting up with the fact that you didn't take the time to learn a substantial amount of their language. You'll need it when they take the time to listen while you wear them out speaking too quickly, as if speed helps the comprehension process at all. You'll need it when you ask for directions in broken sign language you just made up, and they kindly take the time to make sure you've understood what they've said. You'll need it when the man that doesn't speak a word of English at the French train station behind the ticket counter puts up with your Post-It communcation technique, requesting the train and times you need to get to the middle of nowhere. (True story.) When traveling, you will never find knowing how to say "Thank you" in the local vernacular to let you down or serve you poorly.

Second, and this is inevitable: we're going to need help. We can't completely traverse this world on our own and independently, and who would want to? There's such a blessing in the community and fellowship with others. You need the people that drive your buses, taxis, limos, and trains, the people that serve you food and stock the grocery story at which you shop. You need the fellow at REI or Barnes and Noble who helps you find that which you seek. You may not always utilize it, but when people offer to help, lend a hand, extend some advice, it's an act of kindness you may come to appreciate more than you realize, and should be received with a grateful heart and kind appreciation expressed.

As for the the inner scope, practicing verbally articulating a phrase that is indicative of a thankful heart will only serve you well. 

We don't say "thank you" enough, these days. In fact, we're only really thankful for something when we think it's good, or it's fun, etc. But as we grow older, as we put more candles upon the cakes we eat to celebrate our birth, as we put more days and years behind us, perhaps wisdom teaches us to recognize that even the seemingly tough days, bad situations, disappointing circumstances can breed positive results, valuable lessons, strengthening of character.

Perhaps to live thankfully has little to do with things always being good, fun, or beautiful.

Perhaps, if we seek to be grateful for what we have, for what we get, for when our needs instead of our wants are met, well then we might just find something fantastic happening within our hearts.

When my dad was a freshman in college, the upperclassmen went about their usual business of employing the underclassmen to do their bidding, confident this method of harassment mixed with service was a brilliant means of ensuring their authority for the upcoming year. While most underclassmen groaned or complained at the command to carry an upperclassman's instrument, my father, a beautiful mix of inner peace and sarcasm, when confronted with an upperclassman's command, would energetically respond, "Oh, thank you sir! May I carry something else for you as well?"

Every time an upperclassman would arrive to order him around, my dad would respond this way, adamant about refusing to let the circumstances change the state of his heart, define the course of his mood or day, or let him be smaller in their eyes. To him it did not matter; the act of service put him at no loss, and in fact, it soon took all of the fun out of the attempted hazing the upperclassman sought to commit, and they soon began to treat my father with a respect reserved for equals.

Even the toughest of situations can breed strength, a great story to tell, and exciting adventures, if you simply go with the flow of things and, as the ocean does, let things just come on through. Gratefully accept what life, the Lord, the day, the situation has just given. Perhaps if we can learn to press in and take from a situation all it has to teach us, perhaps an attitude of gratitude can guide us to new levels of peace, understanding, and depth of character.

So, for this blog installment, I've brought you, the reader, a gift. In 21 different languages, I give you 21 different ways to say "Thank you."

Spanish: "Gracias"
French: "Merci"
Italian: "Grazie"
English: "Thank you"
Croatian: "Hvala"
Czech: "Děkuji za pozornost"
Danish: "Tak dig"
Dutch: "Dank u"
Finnish: "Kiitos"
Flemish: "Dank u"
German: "Danke"
Greek: "Σας ευχαριστώ"
Hause: "Na gode"
Hungarian: "Köszönöm!"
Norwegian: "Takk deg"
Polish: "Dziękujemy"
Portugese: "Obrigado" (European) or "Obrigado" (Brazillian)
Romanian: "Va multumesc"
Serbian: "Hvala vam"
Swedish: "Vi tackas"
Turkish: "Teşekkür Ederiz"

I may not always be able to speak the language you speak...

...but by helping me when I'm lost, bringing me my food, offering advice when you think I need, listening to me when I vent, just being there standing beside me, or by simply existing, you have done something good in this world, and I'll want to know how to thank you, how to show my appreciation. I'll want to know how to thank you in a way that you really hear it.

It is my belief that gratitude and a thankful heart can heal us of our selfishness, our discontent, and our tendency to mistake an adventure for an inconvenience.

So come, let us live gratefully.

"A person's greatest emotional need is to feel appreciated."

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow." -Melody Beattie

From Taize to Perugia to Croatia to Beach Weeks.

Since I last updated, a lot has changed in the world. Life is like that sometimes.

It seems that since I've been gone a lot of chapters back home have ended, making way for new ones to begin, for new plots and story-lines to develop, for new characters to arrive, leave, and for new types of growth to occur. Thanks to Facebook, email, and the occasional Skype phone call I can see my loved ones embarking upon adventures of their own, these adventures coming in the forms of soccer camps to Brazil, new relationships developing, graduations, motorcycle trips across the US, babies on the way and arriving, screenplays being written, trips to China to pick up a precious adopted son, packing up and moving to new states, homes, jobs, and world travels of their own being planned and started. It's amazing how quickly things can change, and how in a mere four months a life can suddenly become almost unrecognizable from what it once was - in a beautiful way.

In the last month a great deal has changed in my life as well. When I last updated, I had recently left Taize, and was in Perugia, Italy, located in the Umbria region. Beautiful, let me tell you, and my time there was not what I expected when I arrived, but certainly turned out to be a greater blessing than I could have imagined. I spent roughly two weeks in Perugia relaxing, being Italian, learning the language, recuperating from 2.5 months of constant movement and travel, and basically: breathing. Perhaps more detail on Perugia later.

I left Perugia and went back to the Rome area to get ready for my flight to Brussels, where I would meet up with the people and organization with whom I would be serving in student ministry for two weeks at camps. (More on these camps later for certain). However, due to some last minute necessary changes, I ended up postponing my flight to Brussels by a week, and instead took a trip to Croatia and through Slovenia for a long weekend. It was glorious, it was necessary, it was productive, and it was filled with unexpected blessings, new opportunities, and new paths one could potentially pursue. While in Croatia one of the priorities was to make sure a "Happy Birthday" was issued to the one and only Z-bud, who turned 12 last month. One of the biggest downsides to traveling is missing your brothers' birthdays, or rather celebrating them overseas and far away from them. ;)

Back from Croatia the next week, life had flip-turned upside down, as the Fresh Prince would say. That following Wednesday I flew from Rome to Brussels via another RyanAir flight with a lot on my mind, but anxious to serve in the upcoming student ministry trips. In Brussels I stayed for only two days before heading out on a charter bus for an 18 hour drive down to Italy with high school students for a week of what they call "Beach Week" - a camp for military kids, to camp, experience the beautiful Italian scenery, live it up for the week on the Mediterranean, cliff dive, hike, visit Cinque Terre, Pisa, Lucca, Elba, and generally bask in God's beautiful creation. The organizations affiliated with this trip are MCYM, Club Beyond (like Young Life but in Europe), among others. So the first week was high school, the second week was middle school, and we were simply camping and hanging out with the students, making them laugh, having countless opportunities to serve them, while traveling with them, singing with them, dancing with them, exploring with them, and making time for conversation with them about whatever may be on their beautiful hearts. Those two weeks were filled with tremendous blessing, and I have now met so many new kids whose hearts are precious, whose lives are priceless, whose stories are unfinished and full of promise, and whose capacity and potential are endless. It is my prayer that they realize how truly beautiful and worthwhile they are, how much their own two hands are capable of, and that to believe in impossible things is not only something inspiring, but it is a perspective this world needs, for I believe it is not that reality is locked in, but that we have become people that have forgotten how to imagine, and therefore create, inspire, and dream.

Between the high school and middle school Beach Week trips, another volunteer leader Molly and I had the opportunity to explore Italy a bit as tourists for the weekend, so I brought Molly down to Rome to explore and feed her love for architecture and travel. We spent Saturday touring Rome, then Sunday laying around at the beach in Latina, Italy, relaxing and recuperating from high school Beach Week 1, getting ready for Beach Week 2 with the middle school students, which was just as incredible as the first week had been. Two weeks of exhausting but worthwhile ministry, and I think I'm still catching up sleep.

So where am I now? Well, I decided to stay in Italy after the Beach Week trips, and there are some more ideas for travel in mind. But there are one or two things here the Lord and I have decided to pursue, so pursue them we shall. At this point I'm unclear on when exactly I'll be stateside once again - given the flurry of changes the last month has brought, I could be back as late as early November - we'll just have to see how it all pans out. But in the meantime, life is still happening, change is still occurring, and having past the planned out parts of my existence this year, I now venture into uncharted territory, unsure of what tomorrow brings but thrilled to be making the journey and continuing to explore all this life has to offer, continuing to learn what it means to love and to serve, and continuing to have adventures as I meet people, hear stories, learn how to listen, pursue the Lord, learn more about myself, find purpose and calling, and discover what it means to live rather than simply survive. More on that later...

I love you all, and my prayers are with you. Hope to see you sometime this year. But for the moment, I live in Italy. How did life get to be so blessed? ;)

"I know I'm searching for something
Something so undefined
That it can only be seen
By the eyes of the blind"
-Billy Joel, "River of Dreams"


"Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans."

Ruby slippers.

Two days ago was June 1st. Not only does this date represent things like the end of school nearing, Memorial Day weekend recently occurring, and summer on its sweet way, for me it represents the fact that I've been away from home, from the States, from free refills and delicious Tex-Mex, etc, for over 3 months. 

As you know, Alex has already returned home. He's now happily off at camp as a counselor for the summer, living it up on the lake and keeping the children in line.

You may be wondering, "What am I still doing here?" I've been asking myself the same question, not out of despair, but in the ongoing search for purpose and direction.

From the beginning of this trip, I had a transferrable flight. I forsaw the possibility of not returning with Alex, in fact, I planned for it. Because while Alex had certain things for which he wanted to make sure he returned, I practically said goodbye to the life I'd been living when I stepped on the plane, determined to be fully in the journey, and to potentially uncover what it was in life I wanted to pursue, where I wanted to be, perhaps even discover a vocation to which I felt called and within which I felt inclined to serve.

As we traveled around Europe, we met so many people involved in really incredible jobs, lives, journeys of their own, ministries, and dreams, a lot of which have opened up doors to some neat opportunities. As it were, my cup currently overflows with possibilities of communities to spend time, trips I can volunteer for, new friends to go visit, etc. For example, there's an organization in Belgium that works in student ministry for middle school and high school students of military parents stationed overseas. Towards the end of June I'll join them on two trips with their students to visit more parts of Italy, to hang out, be in the presence of incredible company, have tons of laughs, and be a part of student ministry once again for a couple weeks.

But in addition to this opportunity, from the beginning of planning this trip there were a couple communities in the Europe area I thought I might want to visit once Alex headed home and I was exploring on my own. You read about one in the last post (Taize), and that's where I went when Alex left. There's another community, similar to Taize, called Iona, and it's located in Scotland. From what I've heard, it's beautiful, and about a month ago I applied to serve as a volunteer at Iona, a term that would include a minimum of 6 weeks. The type of position I'd fill would be something like kitchen staff or housecleaning, a task necessary to keep the community functioning and flowing, and while it seems menial, I really love the idea of doing that for 6 weeks. As I mentioned in my last email, there's a type of meditation that can develop from the monotony, and Iona's beautiful vision is that work and worship are one and the same; there's no need for them to be two separate activities or perspectives. It's this philosophy that captures my attention and interest in Iona. In essence, if God is available in all moments and situations, I want to experience that presence everywhere, at all times. After all, it seems to be that's what Jesus was getting at, "always one with the Father" and what-not. So I really latched on to the idea of practicing remaining mindful of the Lord and pursuing Him in all moments, great and small, whether those moments found my time spent washing dishes, walking, reading, sleeping, partaking in food, conversing with a new friend, writing an email to an old friend, praying, enjoying a glass of wine with a dear friend, or whatever the case may be. Plus, Iona's in a beautiful area, and from all the referrals I've heard, the people are incredible, kind, open, inspiring and authentic. What's not alluring about such a place?

So I applied. And a few days ago, I heard back, after an anxious month of waiting. Iona has offered me a position on the housekeeping staff for 6 weeks later this summer. They provide room and board, a weekly allowance, and I've already described how much I like the atmosphere, the people, the vision. I will arrive on August 18th, and leave Iona September 29th.

For a long time on this journey in search of path and purpose, I thought Taize would be a place I'd arrive and spend an extended period of time. They allow people from the age of 18 to 29 to spend up to a year or two there, simply serving as part of the community and enjoying the serenity and simplicity of lifestyle Taize has to offer. This sounded like a lovely retreat, a place to really get in touch with the internal, to pray, reflect, breathe, observe, listen, and grow. So when I arrived the day after Alex left, I had every intention of staying at Taize until it was time to head to Belgium for those trips, about a month over all.

But, have you ever had an experience where you get all the way to the Emerald City, and realize you had the ruby slippers on the whole time?

In March of 2009 I left the church I was working at with this verse on my heart: "But he said to them, 'I must preach the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns as well; for I was sent for this purpose." There was a vision of travel and movement in life, but I wasn't quite sure which direction. I used to do a lot of searching for purpose, vision, calling, path in life, etc. In my experience and conversations, I've realized that a great many people, especially around my age, want to know what the heck they should be doing with their life. Regardless of beliefs, they want something to fill their day, they want something they enjoy, that they're good at, and that they can survive from, be passionate about, perhaps even make a small difference in this world because of it.

Moving to Houston was part of my journey. Living in the DFW metroplex was part of the journey. Going to seminary for a brief stint instead of the full 4 years was part of the journey, as was spending a few years feeling like I was stumbling around in the dark. The journey certainly didn't begin the minute Alex and I stepped on the plane, nor does it end when I finally make it home.

Getting to Taize was part of the journey, as was deciding to leave after only a week of spending time there, instead of taking the option and original plan to stay longer. Because I realized something at Taize: In all this time (over two years) of journeying, walking, exploring, questioning, seeking, and often feeling like I was in a world of darkness, I'd been learning all along the way I feel called to live my life, that I had the answers for which I'd been searching. I had arrived at my spiritual/journey equivalent of the Emerald City (internally), and realized I was already wearing the ruby slippers.

Simply put: to Love. To love people, to walk with the Lord in all my moments and steps, to strive to practice His presence constantly, to listen when I have the opportunity and to continue learning in all circumstances. To Love in every opportunity I have, to serve, to walk this earth living the best way I know how, and Loving those I share this planet with every opportunity I encounter.  


I don't think this is just my calling. I think our vocation is to Love, and I refuse to be silent about it. I've been having great conversations with people, and some of the most fascinating ones have suddenly taken a dive into the depths of the heart, and discussed humanity and the question of Love. And I think I have the great pleasure to simply walk this earth, and Love the people I encounter. It comes out in the neatest ways, as cultures interact without judgement, as people share in some tea, enjoy a laugh over something silly, wash 4000 dishes and try to figure out songs everyone knows to sing to, in order to make a mundane job more fulfilling and fun. I have the great opportunity to love the Frenchman who sells me my train ticket, despite his rough day reflected in his coarse demeanor. I have the great opportunity to love my brother who, like me, although not as bad as I can be, wasn't always cheerful or awake or excited about what the day held. I have the great opportunity to love the Lord by trying to really trust that He means what He says when He promises He is faithful and won't forsake me. The opportunities to Love are endless, and the need for Love in this world is boundless.


A dear friend recently asked me what my definition of Love is. Honestly, this is a tough question, because to Love finds such versatile application, depending on the context, the person, the situation, and I think I'll always be figuring out how it looks. But I think it is, in essence, to serve, fearlessly. To love, in a way that sets someone free into a life of fulfillment. To inspire. To help. To be with. To appreciate. To value. To challenge. To teach. To listen. To give someone value, in your eyes and in theirs. To enable them. To pursue them. To forgive them. To be kind, kinder than necessary. To value that they are alive, and recognize it is good, just as you are alive, and it is good. I honestly have no idea how to sum in up in a vaccuum. But I know it is something I must do, because it not only heals others, it heals me. It is good for all souls involved when Love is applied and chosen, instead of fear, hatred, selfishness, etc.

These are the things I've been learning, a myriad of ways in which Love applies, and I hope that the rest of my life is spent discovering more ways to Love in this life. And I think now is not the time to continue reflecting on such lessons, but to begin putting them into practice, and reflect as I go. There is a world out there filled with people, and every moment of our lives we have the opportunity to love our neighbor as ourselves, to recognize that they are alive, that it is good, and that we are alive, and it is good. Because I think I have been learning how to live, and so live I must, not isolated and retreating from society, but in the midst of society, daily, in the regularity. It would be naive to think such lessons only apply out in the wilderness, during the travels, on the vacation.

So I left Taize. I have learned that there is a difference between what is necessary and what would be procrastination. If there wasn't a vision, a purpose, etc, then yes, I'm sure it would be phenomenal to continue to kick it around Europe exploring and traveling for 8 out of 12 months this calender year. But where there is purpose and vision, let us not hesitate to set it into action. Because I have learned what I set out to learn, and I realize that as each day passes I will continue to learn, grow, travel, and explore, wherever I am. But as Paul realized after his experience on the road to Demascus, the time is now to begin to practice what you've been taught.


So I won't be going to Iona. Perhaps another time. But for now, it's not necessary, and I've realized it would be procrastination.

I've come what I came to do. I've backpacked around Europe, had phenomenal adventures, met a serious amount of friends I'm looking forward to staying in touch with for years to come, started to learn what it looks like for me to be in relationship with my God, started to learn what it looks like to listen and to Love, and I have a solid vision on what life looks like for me in the next chapter.

But now I realize that chapter is fast approaching.

In other words, I'm coming home.


Sometime this summer. ;)



"One sees great things from the valley; only small things from the peak." -G.K. Chesterton


"The mountaintops are only noble because from them we are privileged to behold the plains. So the only value in any man being superior is that he may have a superior admiration for the level and the common..." -G.K. Chesterton


"I have walked that long road to freedom. I have tried not to falter; I have made missteps along the way. But I have discovered the secret that after climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb. I have taken a moment here to rest, to steal a view of this glorious vista that surrounds me, to look back on the distance that I have come. But I can rest only for a moment, for with freedom comes responsibilities, and I dare not linger, for my long walk is not yet ended." -Nelson Mandel, "The Long Walk to Freedom"

We may be right, but it's irrelevant.

Let's talk about Taize, because such a place is worth discussing.

I wake up in the morning, in either a tent or a barrack with multiple beds (much like a hostel), and first thing, I head off to morning prayer. Prayer at Taize consists of singing a great many hymns, with the brothers that live at the community, and the rest of the current Taize congregation. We sit on the floor, and lift our voices in a variety of languages, depending on the hymn. It's one of the most serene experiences I've ever encountered, and it's really beautiful to listen to.

After prayer, we head off to breakfast. At Taize, everyone gets a job when they walk through those welcoming doors. Everyone participates in the rhythm and chores of the community, participating in creating the lifestyle in which the community lives from week to week. That being said, the job I signed up for was washing dishes for breakfast and lunch. As menial as this job sounds, washing the dishes became one of my favourite parts of the day, and definitely a task I was always looking forward to. I'll explain later. Because I was part of the dish-washing crew, I was able to be one of the first to get breakfast and lunch, which is a killer perk, let's be honest. So I leave worship, and head straight to the outdoor dining area, where I meet up with the rest of the dishwashing crew and don the oh-so-stylish plastic apron. We make sure there are enough hands to handle the load of washing that the meal will bring, and then we go through the line to secure our meal.

Taize has a vision of simplicity, among other things. While the bulk of Taize's vision I will touch on in more detail later, the aspect of simplicity hits you immediately when you partake in a meal. Coming to Taize, you can't expect to find gourmet. But Taize is a bit like camp, so even though the food isn't something normal standards would deem high quality, you're so appreciative to be eating three square meals a day that it truly does feel like you're being spoiled when they feed you. Breakfast was my favourite, especially because at the beginning of the week, breakfast and I had a love/hate relationship. Breakfast at Taize include a small baguette (roll of bread), a single serving thing of butter, and a couple sticks of chocolate, with either tea or hot chocolate to drink. What people proceed to do with this assortment of ingredients is the following: tear open bread, apply butter to the inside. Then, as if you're making a sandwich, apply chocolate between the pieces of bread, upon the butter, close pieces of bread, and eat your freshly made chocolate-butter sandwich.

I don't know about you, but this is wierd to me. Thoroughly wierd. I realize I'm in Europe and they're all about Nutella here, but Day 1, it feels too early in the day to be having chocolate. However, by Day 3 I'm hooked to the idea of having chocolate each morning, although I never converted to the "butter and chocolate sandwich" idea. But the chocolate Taize serves is beyond delicious, and I enjoyed my bread and butter with chocolate for a breakfast dessert every single morning. (That being said, the chocolate and tea ALONE is worth coming all the way to Taize. Truly, it's the best I've ever had).

Now that we're done with the meal, we get ready to start cleaning the entire community's dishes. For breakfast, this isn't so bad. Here at Taize they use bowls for the cups, and the bowl/cup for the tea or hot chocolate is the only dish utilized for breakfast. However, when lunchtime rolls around, all dishes are on deck, including trays, plates, a bowl/cup for the beverage, and a spoon as the sole utensil, utilized creatively as a spoon, a fork, and a knife. (You learn quickly when you must make use of what you have. And you're only frustrated by the solitary utensil until you consider how long it would take to clean dishes for 4000 if forks and knives were added).We get the giant vats of hot and cold water ready to receive the dirty dishes, and anywhere from 10-20 sets of hands remove jewelry and watches, and proceed to scrub down the incoming dishes. This is a monotonous task, and often perceived as menial. But when you're making new friends as you wash, and eventually start singing tunes to make the job more fun, it's not long before meeting these great people twice a day and partaking in an hour of sillyness with fellow soldiers in combat against the war of dishes becomes the favourite part of the day, and certainly a time anticipated with much joy. Truly, with the exception of one or two, I met my dearest friends from Taize while washing the dishes. I had challenging and beautiful conversations, I learned new words, and together we created memories, song lyrics, and friendships that I anticipate will last a lifetime. Speaking of which, Taize is a place that seeks to help people find the presence of God in their lives. Personally, I believe that God is available in all places, circumstances, trials, and days. Verena, one of my new friends from Bavaria, commented that in the monotony of washing dishes, a sort of meditation emerges. How beautiful a perspective, to find meditation in the midst of monotony. See what amazing and wise people I was getting to spend time with daily? I think these are the people whose company I value the most: the type of people that inspire me. Not people I always agree with, but people who inspire me and challenge me.

Between breakfast and lunch, the younger people had a bible reflection, while those of us that are older, i.e. 25 and up, had free time. I spent a great deal of this time doing one of two things: either I was in conversation and fellowship with one or more of the people I just washed the dishes with, OR I wandered down to a nearby village to spend some quiet time in prayer in their chapel. In the French countryside, Taize finds a very tranquil environment. It's impossible to hear the noise of trains and rare to hear the sounds of cars driving by, but it's common to hear the wind rustling through the grass and trees, and to hear the noises birds make as they celebrate their existence. I loved this type of silence, especially in these simple and beautiful chapels. It can be terrifying, because you can actually hear yourself think, and if you aren't ready for those thoughts, often noise is the preference. But these became some of my favourite times as well, learning not only to silence my verbal communication, but try to silence my head and my heart as well. I wonder, what does it really mean to listen? With each circumstance I admit I'm still figuring this out.

At 12:20 midday prayer happens, and again, the majority of this time is spent in song. The brothers will read some scripture, and utter some prayers, although in multiple languages, but all in all, it's a beautiful and peaceful experience, one I came to really enjoy. Then we lunch, and this repeats the breakfast process, except, as I mentioned, all dishes available are on deck, so it takes at least twice as long. But to me this only meant more laughter, songs, and times of fellowship, plus we still get to eat first. :)

After lunch, there's a longer stretch of free time, available to be filled with the "25 and up" bible reflection, in addition to some worship each evening. For a couple days I did the bible reflection, but as the week progressed I chose to spend the time in other ways, which usually consisted in conversation, fellowship, or times of prayer at my beloved chapels.

Then in the evening we had dinner, sans cleaning up dishes for Stephanie, then evening prayer, following much the same format. The prayer times usually lasted from 45 minutes to an hour, and the evening prayer could potentially go longer, but only if some people wanted to stay.

After evening prayer, there was a spot that served drinks that had a great location for people to congregate, and sometimes I'd go and join in the celebration of existence. But often prayer ended at 21:30 or 22:00 (9:30 pm or 10:00 pm), and frankly, I was tired, since we wake up at 7:45 or so to make it to morning prayer.

Besides the loose schedule, the times of peaceful prayer, and the glorious beauty of the French countryside, the appeal for me with Taize is the vision behind the community. Not only is it beautiful physically, but the beauty emanates from within. It is a community intended to welcome people from all ethnicities, backgrounds, beliefs, perspectives, histories, genders, and ages, for a week at a time, into a place where reconciliation is the aim. It it a place that aims for a Love between all people as the Lord defined it, in the unconditional sense. (The Greek word is "agape".) And so, when you arrive and live at Taize for your week or perhaps longer, you find yourself amidst a constant interaction with other cultures, languages, affiliations, and experiences. It's phenomenal. I rarely met another American while I was there, instead the people I spent most of my time with were from Hamburg, Bavaria, Slovakia, Latvia, Austria, London, France, Ireland, etc, some of which I truly hope to visit later on this summer, if possible. And as you wash dishes, engage in service of others, and share in laughter and song, you find authentic friendships developing, with no regard for whether this person's views of the world align with yours ideologically or on any other front. You find the vision of Taize coming alive in the smallest of moments, and as you put a face and friendship on the "other" you once feared or misunderstood, all you know is this: I am alive, and it is good, and you are alive, and it is good.

There once was a young woman.


Like any honest human, all this woman wanted out of life was to be loved. Not just adored, not simply cherished, but loved, seen, known, appreciated, enjoyed, and valued.


But when a person goes out into this world and begins to feel like love is out of reach, well, they'll begin to settle. And often the way one settles when in search for love is in the arms of any person that will show them even the slightest glimpse of affection.


Which is what this young woman began to do. Eventually she finds herself engaged in adultery.


But for a while this pursuit of love really worked for her, and she thought she'd really found a place where she was cherished.


Until one day she was caught. Not just caught, she was exposed, dragged into the light, and publicly humiliated.

Somehow, the public officials, government officers, and religious leaders discover her infidelity. Upon making their discovery of this woman, caught in the midst of her intimate moment, they drag her out of her privacy and into the public streets, through the dirt and the grime. 


Welcome to the climax of her shame. 


They pull this woman through the city, through the streets, up a hill, and into a crowd of people, all the while she is completely helpless to fight back, stop the embarrassment, or cover herself up at all.


Who's ever had the dream about being completely naked at school?


This day is worse.

But back to the woman.

She's being dragged, half-dressed, in her shame, through the dust. The leaders of the society that regularly play golf with her parents, the religious leaders that used to be her Sunday School teachers, the elders that once dealt so kindly with her as a child, that she's always looked up to and respected - they are now dragging her by the hair through town.

Eventually they slow down and let her fall. She drops to the ground, and for a moment she can't tell where she is or who else is around. All she can hear are the men who towed her halfway across town yelling, and as her eyes adjust to the light and she regains her vision, she notices their shouts are all directed at one man.

Suddenly they're lifting her up onto her feet, and the attempt she had made at covering herself with her hands becomes futile. As she squints in the morning sunlight, she's facing hundreds of men, and some women and children. The group of men that have dragged her and been yelling are there holding her up and surrounding her, and behind the man they continue to yell at is a crowd of people sitting down attentively.

This is really the last type of audience she wanted to have in her moment of ecstasy, in her quest for love and acceptance, which has now been transformed into a deep sense of disgrace.

As she looks out on her neighbors, her peers, her friends, her relatives, among others, she suddenly feels the pain that comes from being surrounded by people but completely and utterly alone.

Suddenly the yelling ceases, and her escorts are now speaking more understandably. They refer to the man they've been yelling at as "teacher," and she realizes it's a class that they've interrupted with her indiscretion.

They explain where they found her, how they found her, and she feels the knot develop in her stomach, because she knows what's coming...

...Then they explain that because of her crime (adultery), the punishment is death.

By stones.

They propose, to this teacher whose class they have just interrupted, that they put this woman up against a wall. 
They propose that everyone present take a rock/stone in their hand.
And they propose that everyone present precede to throw these stones at the woman up against the wall, until she dies.

Brutal.

Now let me pause here for a second. Because you should know that so far in this story, while these guys may seem like jerks, they are completely in the right.

Let me repeat that: they are absolutely right. They're justified. Validated. Not in the wrong. They win.

What they have said is not against the law, it is not false, nor is it even indecent in the sociological context.

To be fair, these guys are worried about what's best for their society, and maybe a little bit about themselves. They feel threatened, and feel allowing any indecency to occur in their midst would enable crumbling in their system, which has worked well for them for years. They're tough on the rules, because otherwise the entire structure and support everyone counts on would collapse. Who can blame someone that wants to protect what they think is best for their children and the society in which they live?

The one that's in the wrong is the woman. She cheated. Committed adultery. She is messing with the family genes and is therefore deserving of punishment. This punishment. "Stones thrown at you until you're dead" punishment.

The man they're saying all this to knows this, the rules and what's right in this situation. The poor woman can only look on, horrified, as she knows exactly what's coming for her.

The man doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he bends down and starts to write on the ground. The woman looks on anxiously, wondering if he's attempting to start class again. Maybe he didn't hear them, although she's not sure how that's possible.

Her accusers repeat her crimes, demanding the man respond.

The woman wonders if there's more to this story than her recent indiscretion - these men seem to be keen on getting an answer from this man, and she wonders why they haven't just started throwing rocks at her. What's one less arm throwing a stone going to really do to the process of a slow and painful death for her?

After they continue to question him, the man stops writing in the dust, and stands up. He turns to the men who dragged her here, who are still holding her up, who are accusing her and questioning him, and simply says that whomever has never done anything wrong should be the one to throw the first stone at this woman.

Then he drops down to ground level and takes up his writing in the sand once again.

As the men accusing and the religious leaders yelling and the audience crowding around with their stones in hand hear this, they pause. A wave of hesitation sweeps over the anxious crowd. The woman looks around, and you can almost sense everyone at once stand up slowly, as their thoughts drift back into the depths of memory. They remember their own pasts, recall their own mistakes, and shudder, as they are forced to look back at ways they too have been imperfect.

One by one, beginning with the oldest, those with the longest histories, the people leave. The woman watches on, dumbfounded, as the crowd begins to dwindle. 

Soon she is standing alone with the man who writes in the ground, the teacher, whose opinion every was so keen on hearing.

"[The man] straightened up and asked her, 'Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?'" 

"No one," she said.

"Neither do I condemn you," Jesus said. "Go now, and leave your life of sin." (John 8:1-11)

Why does he let her go? It's not that he's unaware of the law. To be clear, he's completely aware of the letter of the law. But still, he lets her indiscretion slide. Why?

Because of what He understands. He knows her search for love was fruitless, that it was settled for in all the wrong places. He knows that when a person commits adultery, or another sin of any sort, the damage they're really doing is to their heart, and there's a longing inside that isn't being filled in the way it was meant to be filled.

So instead of condemnation, which locks a person to their mistakes and failed attempts at wholeness, he offers grace, and sets her free.

She's pursuing love, so what would condemnation do? Trap her.
What does grace do? Sets her free. To find what she really needs. 

He leaves her with the command to leave the life she's been living, knowing that her heart longs to be filled, and the path she's been pursuing will not reach her desired destination. He sets her free to experience the full life she was meant to experience.

And regardless of the fact that the religious leaders and teachers and elders and men of authority were right, it was irrelevant, because there was something more important than being right.

In one of the enjoyable times of fellowship and conversation with one of the dishwashing staff at Taize, my dear friend Sona made this brilliant comment, "People have stones in their hearts, but we should give our stones to God." I don't think she realized at first how profound she'd just been. We'd been discussing Taize and the brilliance of its vision of reconciliation, and the beauty that emerges when people of all different varieties can come together to serve, to live, and to love one another. And I think to love, in the agape, Jesus-sense of the word does just that: it gives up the stones it carries, which imply both that we have something to throw, and a hardness of heart.

Taize's view of reconciliation and love is brilliant because it lets go. We drop our stones, and we pursue people instead. We pursue life for people and for ourselves, and a beautiful, fulfilled way to live it. We pursue wholeness, healing, unity, fellowship, and community.

Needing to be right can lead us to sacrifice that which is most important: the fact that there is a situation, a human, a circumstance right in front of us that needs to be loved, inspired, set free from the bondage from whence it came. We may be right at times, but it's irrelevant unless we're loving, i.e. seeking the best for someone. After all, Jesus gave us two commandments that unite them all: Love, and Love. (Matthew 22:36-40)


So, let us LOVE.

You or I may be right, but without loving someone in the process, it's irrelevant.

"If I have all abilities, all knowledge, all sacrifice, but have not love, I have nothing, and I am nothing." -1 Corinthians 13

Let go of the stones. Drop them. And let Jesus teach us about grace.

At the end of the story, notice that everyone leaves. Personally, I wish they'd stuck around, the ones with stones, the onlookers, etc. Maybe they could have learned something.

But then again, as Mother Theresa once said, "it was always between us and Him anyway."


“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” –Mark Jenkins


"Under the surface, we're all the same. Searching for purpose, running from shame..." -Wideawake

"The most effective medicine here on earth is love unconditional." -Sri Chinmoy

"And they will know you [those who know Me] by the way you Love." - Jesus to the disciples