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"