Wednesday, September 10, 2008

the beginning

I'm awful at journaling. Really, I am. My mom used to make me write one page in my journal every week while I was growing up, which seemed at the time to be more a form of punishment than a character-building exercise. That being said, I've recently realized how valuable a journal is. I love being able to look back at my life (at least, at those rare times when I actually have kept a journal) and see what was happening, who the main characters were in my life, watch the story of me unfold, and see how God has been working in my life over the years.

Last year I went on a missions trip with the Navigators to Norway and Latvia for about six weeks. I had such a grand time that I decided to go back this summer. While I did keep some semblance of a journal last year, I wasn't particularly dedicated to the concept or very thorough in my chronicling. It was more of an afterthought than an integral part of my daily routine. I'm not sure what spurred the decision, but at some point I decided that I was going to try and write daily journal entries for the entire time I was gone this summer. The intent was to have something to look back at for myself, and also something to share with friends and family once I returned home so they could get a better picture of what happened in my life while I was gone.



My itinerary started off looking something like the following:
  • Fly to Norway
  • Spend a few days backpacking, then begin summer program with the Navigators
  • After a few weeks in Norway, travel to Latvia
  • Help run summer camp in Latvia
  • Fly back to Norway
  • Summer program ends; fly to Oregon
  • Go to Jesse's wedding in Oregon
  • Spend some time on the West Coast, and then find a way to get back to Maine. Options being considered: buying and riding a moped, hitchhiking, biking, or perhaps train or bus. Hoping to visit friends throughout the U.S. while traveling back East
  • Find a job

As to what actually happened... well, you'll have to read on to find out.


I'd love any feedback you might feel like supplying... comments, compliments, and criticisms are always welcome. Please keep in mind that this is just one person's view of events: others who experienced the exact same situations may have had comepletely different thoughts or reactions. That being said, I'd especially love any comments from anyone who has been on the trip (either this summer or an earlier one).


So...


Start reading at the beginning (click here), and read as much or as little as you desire. I can't promise quality, but I can assure (for better or for worse) brutal, transparent honesty.



Thanks for stopping by!

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

epilogue

Has it really been almost six weeks that I've been back in Maine? It's hard to believe. I thought I was going to walk away from this journal for good once my travels were done, but it only seems appropriate to end with a "where is he now?" episode, so to speak. To answer that question, I'm sitting in a McDonalds, enjoying a hot cup of coffee on a cool, rainy day. I can partake in this sort of an afternoon indulgence for two reasons: (1) I have a McDonalds gift card (thanks Jesse!), and (2) I'm still unemployed, which is starting to become a source of frustration. More on that later.

The first couple of weeks that I was back I took it pretty easy... rest, recuperate, relax and record were my goals, with the 'record' part referring to typing up and editing this journal. That proved to be a much more tedious, difficult, and heart-wrenching task than I had anticipated. It was good, but also weird and difficult, to re-immerse myself into the events of the summer. Sometimes I would get so overwhelmed with memories and flashbacks that I would have to go out for a walk to let my mind settle back down. I found it hard to maintain the feel, tone, and intent of what I wrote while also trying to make my hasty scribblings comprehensible to others. If I were to do a word-by-word comparison, there's probably about an 80% correlation between what I wrote and what ended up being transcribed here, but I think that the tone, intent, and overall feel of what I originally wrote is more or less intact (and hopefully enhanced).

All in all, I'm glad that this project is almost done and ready for "public release." I'll admit, I'm more than a little hesitant to let a wide range of friends and family gain some pointed insights into my cluttered brain,; it's the classic dilemma of whether or not to let people get a glimpse of the "real" you, for fear that they might not like you. It's much easier to keep a deflector shield up, making sure others can only get so close and that they can only observe the perfectly engineered facade that has been designed for maximum likeability. In that sense, I'm probably a lot like China: it may be common knowledge to the world that I'm pretty screwed up, but I still try my darnedest to keep up a good public image. So, this is a little step out of my christian-camouflaged shell, saying "This is me; this is part of who I am, what my life looks and feels like from the inside."

My shoulder is getting better. The collarbone seems to be fully healed and hasn't given my any pain in a couple of weeks, but my shoulder is still hovering at around 75-80% strength, which is a little frustrating. it is getting better, just slowly. I'm not sure whether the lingering soreness, stiffness and lack of strength is due more to the month and change of little-to-no use, or the blunt force trauma of the collision itself - but either way, these last few rungs on the ladder of recovery are proving difficult to get past. I have been able to surf, bike, and hike in the past week or two, which has been great. All things considered I'm recovering well, but I can't wait to be back at 100% - anything less than that frustrates me to no end.

Speaking of frustrating... unemployment is starting to lose its luster (actually, I've decided to start using the phrase "on sabbatical" instead of "unemployed;" it has much more positive connotations). It's only been in the past 2-3 weeks that I've started to search in earnest, and so far nothing has come of it. I've had one interview, which actually resulted in a job offer... which I ended up turning down, for a variety of reasons. Now, of course, I'm kicking myself, since nothing else has turned up... but at the time, it just didn't seem like a good fit. To be honest, part of me wishes I had taken it if for no other reason than to be able to say "I have a job! Hooray!", rather than writing a conclusion to my journal that leaves more threads loose than tied up.

But after all, reality isn't the stuff of novels, with carefully crafted resolutions and conclusions that are both satisfying and compelling. Life is weird. Life is messy. Life is "live forward and understood backwards" (Kierkegaard). Someday, whether in this life or the next, we'll reach a point where everything makes sense. In the meantime, my only calling is to "seek first the Kingdom of God." Frankly, I've found myself becoming lazy and sloppy in my spiritual disciplines over the past couple of weeks. That's changing, but it's been a wakeup call to keep my sights firmly planted on my true calling: to become a fully devoted follower of Christ.

That is my calling

That is who I'm meant to be

And that's who, with God's help, I'm on my way to becoming










(p.s.- below are some pictures from the summer. it's a conspicuously limited sample of everything that happened this summer; i'm absent-minded when it comes to taking pictures. if anyone else would like to share their photos from the summer, just drop a link to them in the comments or send it to me and i'll post it here. enjoy :)




Thursday, July 31, 2008

I've been in a sort of melancholy funk the past couple of days. It's hard to remember where I've been, think about where I might be going, and enjoy where I am right now simultaneously. Yesterday I spent some time writing and replying to e-mails to both old friends and new, and I felt more torn than ever. I feel drawn to so many people, so many places... Maine, Norway, Ohio, Latvia, the open road, the perfect wave, etc. I'm not sure where my spot is yet: who I'm meant to be, where I'm meant to serve. God may choose to make it clear to me where he wants me, but a likelier possibility is that I'll be forced to choose. I hate decisions.

I think I'm going to try and wrap up my "official" journaling today - it seems rather appropriate. It'll be exactly two months since I started writing in this battered notebook, I don't have much room left for future entries, and I have a lot of work to do if I'm ever going to type this whole thing out and do any editing. So I guess you could call this the "State of the Noonan" entry - after considering where I've been and what I've experienced, how then should I live? Here goes nothing...

One thing that I've been feeling more clearly as the summer has progressed is a call into ministry of some sort. I don't know where, what, when, or how... but I don't think I can ignore the call any longer. To do so would be to live a lie, to turn my back on my Lord, and to ignore the advice, proddings, and counsel of a good number of people who I admire and respect. Just putting that down on paper is a scary process... I had to pause for a moment to gather the nerve necessary to actually transfer that idea from dream to reality. There's no use in dwelling on and speculating about the unknown, so I won't spend any more time trying to provide answers when I'm not even sure I know all the questions yet... but it is something I plan on pursuing in the months to come.

I think that if I were to assign a one-word title to what I learned and experienced this summer, it would be Trust. As I read back through this journal and reflect on the summer, the issue seems to keep popping up... Do I trust God? Really, truly, absolutely? I think that I'm beginning to get more of a taste of what it's like to truly trust God, and it reminds me a bit of what Moxie tastes like - but in reverse. Moxie has this amazing taste at first, which makes you wonder why it's not wildly popular... and then the aftertaste kicks in a second or two later, and you wonder why anyone drinks this stuff at all. Trusting God, fully and completely, seems to at first be a bitter experience: it can involve pain, sorrow, the stripping away of possessions, people, pride, and other words that start with P. But keep drinking from that well and soon enough you realize that beneath that first sensation of bitterness is a rich, full, cool, and satisfying taste of Life.

At the end of Zosna camp, we had a chance for people to share what God had been teaching them that week. I had felt God working on my heart all that week concerning the issue of trust, and when no-one came up right away to say anything I knew that I couldn't escape from sharing. So, I sat down and explained how trusting God fully was something I knew I needed to learn how to do, and as a first step in that direction I was going to commit to coming back to camp next summer. I knew that saying that was something I needed to do... God had been impressing it on my heart that entire week and, truthfully speaking, I think he was trying to do the same thing last year; I just wasn't quite ready to make that leap of faith (I like to be in control, to stay free, to keep my options open). But that desire to return has been on my heart the whole time, and I've let it influence my decisions quite a bit. I've turned down jobs, lived a spartan life, eaten a lot of beans and rice, all with the goal in mind (albeit sometimes in the deep subconscious) of making it back to Norway and Latvia.

And I did.

And suddenly, all of those sacrifices felt more like investments. After all, is it really a sacrifice if you come out the better end in the deal? I think not. I'm already aware of a possible schedule conflict next summer, I'm starting to wonder what sort of job will give me the time off that I'll need, contemplating whether more school is in order at some point in the future...

But all those things are superficial distractions from the deeper truth: I need God. And amazingly, God desires me. For what? To love Him, love others, and to live a life spent drawing near to him and bringing others along on the way. Everything else... everything... is not only secondary, it's basically non-existent.




(the end).

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Hard to believe I've been in Maine for almost a full day. Got home around 2am local time last night, and got some quality sleep in once I grabbed a bite to eat. It's been a quiet day; ran a few errands, caught up on some correspondence, read for a while, and next thing I know it's ten-thirty, and I'm exhausted and ready for some more sleep. Where did the day go? And speaking of that, where have the past two months gone??? Tomorrow I plan on getting out of the house and doing some writing in the afternoon... maybe it's time to close this journal for good.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Back in Boston... I should probably feel more excited about the prospects of returning home, but to be honest, it feels more bittersweet than I expected. I think some of that is due to the fact that my trip is coming to a close earlier than I had planned. There have been several moments this past week where I've been near tears as pangs of wanderlust hit me and I realized that my nomadic fantasy is, at least for the moment, dead. God has been revealing to me over the past couple of days some of the reasons behind why he allowed things to transpire the way they have, and it's been a painful process to try and come to grips with it. Let me try to rewind and recap...

Way back last December, I felt led to pledge a certain amount of giving to my church every month. I intentionally made it a high enough amount that it would cause me some inconvenience and necessitate forgoing a few luxuries. There's nothing special in doing that; personally, I believe that if it doesn't hurt you to give, then you're not giving enough. Anyways, God was good, and I was able (through spartan living, a frugal budget, and learning to enjoy life's simple pleasures) to meet my commitments each and every month, as well as save some money aside for this summer. But spending a summer serving overseas meant that my income would drop to zero, which would make meeting my financial commitments to my church nearly impossible.

I was concerned about this before I left, and spent quite a bit of time praying that God would provide the "extra" money that I would need to be able to keep my promise. I even asked a couple of people to pray specifically about that aspect of my trip. And then I forgot all about that whole dilemma over the business of the summer... until a couple of days ago, when it suddenly dawned on me that, since my travels are over for the time being, I won't be "needing" some of the cash I had saved aside for my post-Europe travels. Thus, once I get back, I'll be in a position where I can meet that financial commitment I made. It's going to put me pretty close to the felt, and it means that once again I'm going to be in a spot where I'll have to totally trust God to provide enough for rent (assuming I can find a place), food, pretty much everything. I thought I might have a bit of a cushion for a change, but evidently that's not how it's going to work.

I'm not about to assign a 100% probability rate to this line of reasoning, or automatically rule out any other possible reasons or causes... but it seems like the Word has been practically screaming at my soul these past few days that this is why, this is how, this is what I need to do. After I crashed and burned and had started to walk back to the hostel, I was extremely mad at God for letting something like that happen in the first place. How could he possibly let me suffer harm, experience this kind of pain, and throw all my plans into tumult when I knew I had literally dozens of people praying for me? Then yesterday, the realization dawned that perhaps God brought this whole sequence of events about precisely because people were praying for me.

Yikes.

Maybe this was the only way God saw that he could pry those few dollars from my greedy little hands, and use them for his Kingdom instead if my travel plans. I guess what hurts the most is that I thought that my dream was His dream, too. Who knows, maybe it was... I don't feel the kind of conviction that comes from being confronted with hidden sin, but instead the kind that comes from knowing what you have to do, and being resigned to your fate even if you're not particularly thrilled with the idea. If I know what I have to do and still don't do it, though, that's definitely sin. Perhaps this is God's way of taking me to an even deeper level of trust and dependency, which I definitely want... sometime later. Specifically, not right now.

When I was reading through the Sermon on the Mount yesterday, I was hit between the eyes for the umpteenth time by the section on not worrying, trusting, and asking. God's made it clear that he wants all of me, especially my wallet. Anyways, at the moment I'm looking forward to getting home, relaxing for a few days, and trying to sort out some of these thoughts as well as look back on and process everything that's happened this summer. In the meantime, I need to start ferrying my luggage out to the bus stop. I'm quite hungry, but I draw the line at paying high prices for crappy airport food when I know that some good (and free!) home cooking is just a couple of hours away. But boy, I could sure go for a can of Moxie right now...

Monday, July 28, 2008

I had hoped to have some time to sit down and do some lengthy journaling, but now that doesn't seem likely to happen until maybe Thursday at the earliest. Today was a great day - Dana took me out on a fairly easy hike around Smith's Rock, which is a local state park and world-class rock-climbing site. It was the first time I'd really been able to get out for any kind of a walk or a hike since that infamous bike wreck. It felt good to stretch my legs out a bit, although my shoulder was pretty sore by the end of the trip.

I was reading through Matthew 5-7 again today, and God really convicted me of some stuff, which hopefully I'll have a chance to go into tomorrow... because right now, I need to try and catch some sleep. Yet another long travel day starts early tomorrow.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

I'm in Madras, Oregon right now. It's been just under three years since I last visited, but about all that's changed is they finished paving one section of road and increased their number of traffic lights in town by 50% (from 2 to 3). I feel a little overwhelmed at the moment - I was just recently struck by a possible explanation for why things have played out the way they have over the past few days, and it wasn't anything at all that I might have expected. I don't want to jump to conclusions, and I need to pray about it and think it through... but dang. If it is what I think it might be, then I'm not even sure how to respond. I feel a little hurt and discouraged just at the possibility. Anyways, no sense in dancing around the bush if I'm not ready to commit the concept to paper (at least not yet).

Got to talk to Mom and Dad for a bit this evening, which was good. I'm looking forward to seeing them in a couple of days. I'll have been gone for just about two full months by the time I finally arrive back home early Wednesday morning (around 1 or so). It'll good to be back home, even though I have no idea what will happen next at that point...

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Well, Jesse and Amy are married. It was a picture-perfect wedding on an absolutely fabulous day. I was a little disappointed that I was the only person from our Cedarville days to make it out to the wedding, but that's just the way life works. People grow up, get jobs, get married, buy homes, have kids, etc., and suddenly are much less mobile and flexible. Life's like that. Even so, sometimes I find myself wishing for the "good ol' days," when people were still crazy and in college. But those days are long gone, and people such as myself are becoming a rare breed among my contemporaries (which is probably a good thing).

One minor worry was taken care of today when Dana (Jesse's mom) offered to let me stay with her and Aaron (her youngest son who's still at home) for the next couple of days until my flight leaves from Portland on Tuesday. I wasn't really worried about it, but it is nice to know that I'll have a place to stay until it's time to depart for the east coast.

It's still quite surreal to be where I am right now - was I really just in Norway 3 (or was it 4?) days ago, and Latvia less than a week before that? I think that everything will start to really sink in once I finally arrive "home;" right now I still feel like I'm in travel mode. Generally speaking, I'm a quick adapter, which can be a double-edged sword: I adjust quickly to new situations and scenarios, but that also means it can also be easy for me to move from point to point without ever really stopping to savor and experience where I've been or contemplate where I'm going.

As for now, though, where I'm going is straight to bed. This has been a busy day, and was also my first day doing some time without the sling (I managed to shed it for pictures and also during the wedding). While the pain was tolerable, I'm feeling pretty achy at the moment... and exhausted.

Friday, July 25, 2008

It's been a wee bit humbling to be a one-armed man. There's not a lot that I can do, so it's a challenge to try and find tasks that I can accomplish while being more of a help than a hindrance. Everyone has been real helpful and supportive, but even so, I'd rather be moving heavy equipment or setting up tables instead of mixing up some broccoli salad or cleaning candle holders. Maybe this is a means of God impressing on me the need to serve in any capacity I can, and to be willing to sacrifice all for the Kingdom. I'm realizing that if I were to honestly answer that question - "what wouldn't you give up for the sake of the kingdom?" - that I mentioned a couple of days ago, I would probably have to say my health. It's really hard for me to be anything less than 100% healthy. Can God still use me in spite of (or because of) my injury? Probably... maybe He already is. Time will tell.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Finally... Oregon. After well over 40 hours of travel, it felt soooo good to collapse into a bed around 7 this morning. I finally arrived in Portland a little after 4am, and after grabbing my bags, meeting Jesse, driving to Salem, and having the best tasting bowl of cereal ever for breakfast, I snagged a solid 5 hours of blissful sleep before waking up feeling refreshed. It felt good to shower, too... although removing the dressing on my hip turned out to be a uniquely painful experience, as a scab had formed and bonded to the bandage. Good heavens that hurt! It was so worth it to finally feel clean, though. I was reminded of the section in Voyage of the Dawn Treader where Eustace is turned from a dragon back into a boy, and has his old nasty dragon skin peeled off by Aslan before he gets to bathe in the well... I may have not been peeling off an entire layer of skin, but it sure felt like it.

Today has been a blessedly lazy and relaxing day; we've been hanging out at Jesse's future-in-laws house, doing some wedding preparation tasks and errands. That being said, the day is drawing to a close and I'm about ready to hit the hay. I'm staying at a hotel with Jesse and some of his family. Looking forward to getting back into the Word tonight (even though it'll be brief) for the first time since I left Norway, and then catching up on some much-needed beauty sleep.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Exactly one year ago today I was in almost this very same spot: sitting in an airport, preparing to leave Norway. I was leafing through my passport just now and noticed that the dates were the same. Last year, I had hopes and dreams of coming back on this trip but wasn't sure if it would be possible. I have those same hopes and dreams this year, but there's no longer any room for uncertainty: I already called my shot. I told everyone at Zosna camp that I'd be back next year, so now I have some serious praying and planning to do so I can follow through on that promise. I'd love to be back in Norway next summer as well, but that might be too big of a vision to really plan or count on at this point. We'll see. Zosna camp 2009 is the only "sure" thing a this point, assuming the Lord tarries and sees fit to allow me to follow through on my promise. I'll dive deeper into what led me to make that rash of a statement sometime over the next few days.

Right now I'm fighting off sleep while waiting for the ticket counter to open up so I can check in, and also beg and grovel for a seating upgrade due to my injury status. Please, God, don't make me spend my day in misery in coach! I had a rough start to the bus ride last night - I took some pain meds once I got on, but they took a while to kick in and in the meantime I was in agony. Every bump and curve seemed to be focused directly on my shoulder, and I positively couldn't find any position to get comfortable and make the throbbing dissipate. But, I survived (with the Lord's help), and eventually managed to grab a few minutes of sleep off and on, which is pretty good for me. Hopefully I can get a couple more hours over the course of today so I don't arrive in Oregon completely gassed
Waiting to board for my flight - my feeble attempt to weasel my way into 1st class failed miserably, so short of divine intervention I'll be spending the next 8+ hours of my life crammed into coach.

Yippee.
Well I'm back in the good ol' U.S. of A., although I'm not sure that I'm particularly thrilled to be chilling in Newark yet again. The flight here was long, but I did have the saving grace of having an empty seat next to me so I could at least stretch out a little bit. I had a window seat, too, so at least I didn't have to worry about my left side getting bumped by other passengers. I managed to catch a few brief and intermittent z's, although I still feel absolutely dead tired. You wouldn't think that just sitting on your butt for 24 hours would leave you exhausted, but little-to-no-sleep is a surefire recipe for exhaustion no matter what you're doing.

The last half hour of the flight was pure misery. We ran into some pretty robust turbulence, which normally excites me... unless I have a broken collarbone. Then it's just no fun at all. That, coupled with the fact that I was slightly nauseous from the combo of pain, exhaustion, turbulence, and a dubious-tasting "turkey sandwich" I had recently consumed, forced me to cling to the Jesus prayer with every ounce of my being to accomplish two things: (1) breathe, and (2) not throw up. Thanks to the good Lord and a couple of timely burps, both goals were accomplished.

The landing turned out to be a bit of an adventure. Turns out that, due to crosswinds (or so I was told later on), we had to come in with the plane tilted at a fairly significant roll angle, which allowed the pilot to let one wheel touch the ground... and then slam the rest of the plane's wheels to the ground a split second later. It was bizarre, because until the first wheel touched I wasn't consciously aware of the fact that we were coming in at a tilt... and then I suddenly realized the implications as the plane slammed its wheels to the asphalt before I had a chance to brace myself. Painful? Very.

I had to resort to the ultimate indignity in order to transport my luggage through customs: I paid three dollars for one of those luggage carts. Three dollars! Those things are free in freaking Norway, for crying out loud! Just a couple of months ago I transported 6 large bags all by myself, and now I need a luggage cart to be able to move one measly backpack. Such is life.

I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about being back in the states. If I were heading home (wherever that is; I guess my folk's house in Maine is what feels like home right now) my emotions might be more concrete and identifiable, but as it is I sort of feel like I'm in a state of limbo. I miss everyone back in Norway and Latvia, but I'm also looking forward to seeing friends and family back in Maine, as well as seeing Jesse out in Oregon. I'm just not sure where I'm truly longing to be (to get back to that line of thought from a couple weeks ago). But, that's not exactly anything new either.

I haven't even had a chance to crack open my Bible yet today, since my lone remaining copy (I ended up giving away the other two I brought) is packed away in my checked luggage. I briefly considered trying to retrieve it when I had to bring my stuff through customs, but after remembering what an ordeal it was to get everything jammed into there in the first place (with help, no less), I thought better of it. I'm feeling kind of empty spiritually right now, and I don't think it's just due to fatigue and change of environment. After feeling very much alive a close to God for most of the summer, the past couple of days have been filled with a sort of spiritual malaise. To be honest, I've been struggling with feelings of being abandoned by God, as ridiculous as I know that sounds (and is). I feel like with all the people I know are praying for me, shouldn't things be working out a little bit better in regards to my recent and the subsequent pain? I know that God allowed (caused?) it for a reason, I really and truly do... but it's difficult when you don't know that reason yet, and in the meantime life is much more inconvenient and difficult and your long-laid plans of travel and adventure have to be curtailed as a result of an accident. I trust you, God - at least, I'm trying to - but you could make things just a little easier by giving me at least a tiny glimpse into the reasons behind why things have transpired like they have.

I've been fighting off feelings of loneliness at times today, too... not just loneliness as a result of leaving everyone I spent the summer with (although that certainly is a part), but loneliness as in being a 26 year old single guy who, although generally content, wonders if this is to be his lot in life. I think that being immersed in a sense of community like I have been for the past 6 or 7 weeks helps to fulfill some of those desires for companionship, and having good friends in nearly constant proximity Being single sure does have its advantages (which I'm sure I've already mentioned before at some point), and being intentional about not seeking out "a relationship" allows me to stay better focused on the tasks at hand, as well as have healthier and deeper friendships with everyone, guys and girls, than otherwise possible.

But... at the end of the day, I still climb into bed by myself, and don't have anyone (other than the Lord) to share all of life's experiences with. Is that ok? Of course it is... but I'd be lying if I said that it was always easy or always awesome. I'm guessing that my current state isn't about to change anytime soon, and quite frankly, I'm ok with that. Today is too filled with uncertainty to worry about what the years to come might or might not bring with them. All I know is that today God wants to use me as I am - a single, free, unattached hobo - so it's up to me to make the absolute most of my current state while remaining content with who I am. God is all I need... that's not a trite refrigerator-magnet slogan, it's the truth. I'm beginning to understand what it means to truly crave God, and in all honesty it's a bittersweet sensation... sweet because it's drawing me closer to my true identity and purpose, but bitter because you can never get all the God you really want. Which begs the question: how badly do I crave God? Or to flip it around into a question I tossed out a couple of weeks ago on the van ride back to Riga, what wouldn't I sacrifice for the Kingdom? Scary question... I'm not sure I have any easy answers.
I'm sick of airports, sick of being uncomfortable and in pain, sick of being delayed in Newark, and overall very, very frustrated. I should be almost halfway into the flight to Oregon by now, but instead we're being delayed due to incompetence, weather, and Newark being the world's worst airport... so, our departure is being pushed back yet again to two and a half hours from now. Fuck. Ahhh, why is this happening! I'm so desperate for sleep...

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

I'm sitting on a bus in Sogndal, getting ready to depart for Oslo. This is so surreal; I can't really believe that this summer is already drawing to a close. Jan was gracious enough to offer to drive me down to Sogndal, which meant I didn't have to leave quite so early in the afternoon and was also spared that twisty, nauseating, death-defying bus ride from Skjolden to Sogndal. Cody came along for the ride too, so I had some good company for the first leg of my travels. Now I've officially begun the 6,000+ mile, 33 hour journey to Oregon.

I bought a plane ticket earlier today from Oregon to Boston (where I'll catch a bus up to Maine) for a real good price; I'll be flying out of PDX a week from today. It was a little hard to officially give up on my original travel plans, but I know it was the right thing to do. It was real hard saying goodbye to everyone today - this summer has been full of goodbyes, but today's were particularly hard. It was like saying good bye to family members, which they really have become: Cody, Lars, Joshua, Adam, Renae, Lindsey, Cayley, Kelsey, Jenny, Darrell, Annette, and Dylan... they all mean a lot to me. And I can't even begin to mention the dozens of others I've gotten to know over the summer and have already had to say goodbye to: Jan, Karlis, Steve, Adam, Gill, Beth, Lidia, Tima, Vladik, Dasha, Ivan, Olav... it's too overwhelming right now to even think about. I'll be glad when I can finally bid farewell to goodbyes. And, the bus has started, which is my cue to stop writing and try and find my pain meds asap

Monday, July 21, 2008

Hard to believe that I'll be leaving here tomorrow evening. Almost everyone is off doing the glacier walk today, and I'm just hanging around Elvheim with Darrell, Annette and Dylan. Darrell Sr. and Sandy left this morning on the same bus that everyone else took to get to the glacier. I already miss them; it's been great to get to know them over the summer and to be able to draw from their wisdom and experience. Today also marks another ending: the final day of the 20-20 club, as everyone will do their final fjord jump once they get back from the glacier and say the verses they memorized. Thankfiully I was a little ahead of schedule and got all my 20 fjord jumps in before my accident, otherwise I'd be in a tough spot. I do need to brush up on my verses sometime today; I'm working on memorizing Matthew 5-7 as part of a bigger project, so I've got Matthew 5:1-20 ready to go for tonight.

Had a good talk with Darrell after everyone left this morning... we read through Romans 12 together and spent some time talking about the summer. He shared some encouragements and challenges with me, and we talked about how the different facets of the summer program work to build unity as well as spur on personal growth. I wish I'd grabbed more time with him over the course of the summer - he's a kindred spirit in lots of ways, and those are hard to come by - but that being said, I'm thankful for the time that we did have together.

I desperately need to do some laundry today, and I plan on catching a nap at some point too. It's nice to have the place almost to myself for some R&R&R (rest, relaxation, and reflection). I keep on telling myself that I need to sit down and spend another several hours writing about Zosna camp, but my shoulder makes sitting down to write for any length of time an awkwardly painful proposition. I got online at the fjordstava to check on flight prices from Oregon to Maine... and they were cheap enough to be a realistic option. Still trying to decide if I'm ready and/or willing to completely give up on my cross-country road trip adventure extravaganza. I think I need to decide something today, one way or the other... the future is quickly becoming the present.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Well... yesterday was a bit of an adventure. The day started off fairly well - we set off for a hike up to Morkris-dalen shortly after breakfast. It's a fairly easy hike that follows alongside a powerful river as it passes through deep and rocky gorges up to a waterfall surrounded by beautiful mountain meadows. It was an absolutely idyllic spot; looked perfect for a week of camping and contemplation. We took our time getting up there, and then had an hour or so to spend some time alone with God. It was a good hour... I sat down near a luscious blueberry patch, so I feasted on delicious berries while spending some time in prayer and reflection. It was a bit of a challenging time, too, because I felt like God was questioning my plans for the end of the summer... whether spending a month or so tooling around the country was my personal dream, or what I genuinely thought would be best for the kingdom. I wasn't sure even at the end of the hour, which kept me in thought for most of the hike down.

Once we got to the bottom of the trail, a little before 3 in the afternoon, I hopped onto the bike I had ridden there and headed back to the hostel. There wasn't enough room for everyone in the two cars we had available, so I had volunteered to ride there and back... it was only about 10 kilometers, and I always love a good bike ride. I had grabbed one of the junkier bikes because I thought others would be riding, but as it turned out I was bad at math and ended up riding a real clunker for no good reason. So anyways, I started pushing it on the way back, thinking that I'd try and make it back before the cars did since I had a bit of a head start. A little over halfway back, I was on a nice smooth, straight section of road, and I was really cranking (as best as I could on this particular bike), standing up in the pedals, feeling the wind rush through my hair, singing at the top of my lungs out of sheer joy at being on a bike riding through a beautiful valley in Norway....


and then suddenly, the chain slipped off


My right foot slipped off the pedal on the downstroke and hit the ground, which sent me into a forward vault over the handlebars and slightly to my left. Somehow I managed to tuck my head in (I wasn't wearing a helmet) and tried to throw my shoulder into a roll, but in stead I pretty much planted my left shoulder into the pavement at full speed, and stopped. I slammed my hip into the pavement pretty solidly too, and also bumped my head on the pavement. I knew as soon as I started to fall (everything happened in super-slo-motion) that I wasn't going to get off easy this time and be able to walk away.

I lay in the road, all crumpled up with the bike on top of me (insult to injury!), for what seemed like forever before I summoned enough courage to stand up and assess the damage. I knew as soon as I hit the ground that I broke something in my shoulder area; I thought I might have dislocated or torn something too, but managed to move my arm around enough to assuage those fears for the moment... and then the pain set in, and I decided that moving my left arm was a bad idea and should be avoided at all costs. I grabbed the bike with my good arm and flung it into the bushes, giving it a kick along the way for good measure (and a muttered curse as well, I must admit). I started walking back, thinking to myself that I wasn't about to let a stupid bike keep me from making it back to Elvheim under my own power. I actually let the first of the two cars pass me on its way back without trying to flag it down, I was so stubbornly set on remaining in control of the situation and staying tough. However, once the adrenaline from the incident started to wear off, the pain started to really kick in... and with a vengeance. So, when the next car came by a few very loooong minutes later, I flagged them down and humbly asked for a ride back.

Once I got back to the hostel it was obvious because of the pain level that I needed some medical attention, so Darrell called the nearest doctor (in Gaupne, about half an hour away) and arranged for me to be able to see him as soon as we got down there. Everyone was super-concerned and really supportive... it was really humbling to be the center of everyone's concerns, prayers, and focus. Cayley put her nursing training to good use and gave me a quick once-over to make sure I wasn't concussed, and also cleaned up a pretty good scrape on my leg that I hadn't even been aware of. The Darrell's (Senior and Junior) volunteered to escort me to the doctor, and Joshua came along for moral support as well. After a quick prayer, we piled into Olav's car (thank goodness we had a vehicle!) and took off for Gaupne.

It was a brutal ride; I felt every curve and bump, both of which there were plenty of. I just hung on to the Jesus prayer for dear life, and even though I didn't really feel any relief (either physically or emotionally) as a result of it, it did help me stay slightly more relaxed and focus on just making it to the next moment. Once we got to Gaupne (just under half an hour away, although it felt much longer) the doctor took a look at me, had me describe what happened, cleaned and bandaged my hip and shoulder (I wasn't even aware until that point, but I had managed to gouge up my hip pretty good), gave me some medium-grade painkillers (tylenol with codeine; a step up from ibuprofen, but not quite what I was hoping for).... and sent me to the hospital in Laerdal, another hour away. He was pretty sure my collarbone was broken, but couldn't tell if my shoulder might also be slightly dislocated, so he figured it would be a lot easier to have an x-ray taken to know for sure instead of manipulating and moving my arm to test for (and possibly correct) any possible dislocation. I was definitely a fan of not moving my arm at that point, so it sounded like a brilliant plan.

So, the Darrell's and I (minus Joshua; he wisely caught a bus back to Skjolden from Gaupne when it became clear that it was going to be a longer trip than at first expected) headed off for Laerdal, which was a little over an hour's drive from Gaupne. The medicine took the edge off of the pain, but it still made it's presence known for the duration of the ride. Darrell Jr. kindly got me a hot dog and coke on the ferry ride, which at that point in the day tasted absolutely divine. If hot dogs and coke always tasted that amazing, I would eat nothing else for the rest of my days. Even though the circumstances were less than ideal it was nice to be able to spend some concentrated time with the Darrell's. I really respect and admire both of them, and value their friendship and leadership a lot. I feel like they're both always trying to grow and take their faith to a deeper level, and they're so good at trying to pull people along with them for the ride.

We eventually made it to the hospital in Laerdal, and then had to wait for the radiologist... and then wait for the doctor... and then wait for another doctor to confirm the diagnosis. It was a longish wait, but everything got sorted out in the end. Turns out I broke my collarbone (which I pretty much already knew), but there wasn't any other structural damage - my shoulder wasn't dislocated, I didn't have any apparent nerve damage, and all they needed to do was throw my arm in a sling and send me on my way. It was a very long day; by the time we got back to Elvheim it was almost 1am, and I was so tired by then that I didn't have much trouble falling asleep once I managed to crawl into my bed.

I think that the hardest part of the day was the uncertainty that it created, especially regarding my travel plans once I get back to the states. I've had this dream for a while of buying a cheap moped out in Oregon (I'm flying straight there for my friend Jesse's wedding once I leave Norway) and moseying my way back to Maine, or if that option failed than either buying a train pass or hitchiking across the states and stopping in to visit friends I have scattered across the states. Given my current condition, especially my inability to shoulder a backpack anytime in the near future, it's looking like bumming my way around and across the states isn't a viable option anymore.

So now I'm not really sure what to do... I suppose I could just buy a plane ticket back to Maine fir right after Jesse's wedding (no way am I going to let a bum shoulder keep me from making it to that event). But plane tickets, especially at such short notice, will probably be prohibitively expensive, and that also won't allow me to visit the friends I have scattered across the U.S. More than anything, I think I was looking forward to being free for a while, even if only for a month or so. No job, no commitments, only me and the open road. Now it looks like that dream is, once again, spiraling down the drain and fast disappearing. So, I'm a little frustrated, a little disappointed, and still in some pain, which I'm sure is clouding my outlook. Apparently this is God's way of closing the door pretty firmly on that particular dream... I only wish that He had given me a chance to decide for myself that I should head back sooner rather than later. Maybe He's giving me a way of bailing out of my stated plans without looking like I chickened out - having a broken collarbone is a pretty good reason to head home early without appearing weak. Maybe I'm reading too much into a simple accident. Maybe I need another dose of pain meds... yeah, that must be it.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Back in Skjolden, once again... this summer has flown by all too quickly. I'll be back in America in just five short days, but I'll leave here on the 22nd in all likelihood. Sad. I'm still working on compiling my experiences/emotions/thoughts from Latvia, but I need to stay rooted in the present as well. Yesterday was a busy day of travel - woke up at 5am, and spent the next 14 hours making our way back to Skjolden via plane and bus. It was a bittersweet moment to leave Latvia... I love it there, the people and the culture and the country, but I was also excited to be returning to Norway (which I also love).

It's felt like the past week has been one giant, prolonged farewell - by the time we said goodbye to the UK team (as well as Lidia and Inna, our marvelous translating tag-team), I felt emotionally empty. I'm not sure I'll be recharged enough for the last "big sad" moment, when I'll bid farewell to the rest of the team.

On Wednesday afternoon, while we were still hanging around in Riga, I had a good chat with Darrell and Annette, and also with Adam S. I feel like it's taken me a while to really connect with him, which is entirely my fault. I think at the early stages of the summer I looked at him as a peer, and when he started sliding into more of a leadership role once everyone else arrived I started to bristle and felt some resentment. The worst part of it all was that he was good at the role I found myself inexplicably coveting, far better prepared, equipped and gifted than I may ever be to do what he did (and Renae as well). But, since my competitive nature can still get the best of me, I have a hard time recognizing others as being better than I am, and always want to prove myself as being capable and able to do anything, anytime, anywhere. That can manifest itself in sports, in relationships, work, you name it... I need to be on the guard against letting my internal desire block out opportunities to stand back and let others display their gifts.

Anyways, God's been helping me to accept my role, to utilize my gifts where I'm at, and to shut out those feelings of jealousy and inferiority. As a result, I feel like I've been able to tap more into Adam's wisdom, experience, and advice. he offered me some very pointed advice and guidance in regards to future plans and dreams while we were chatting on Wednesday, which has given me even more food for thought. I'll try and outline that line of thinking and pondering later on, but I need to do some more meditating and praying on the subject first.

Today is a mostly overcast, rainy sort of day - we may go for a hike later on, but I think the idea is for it to be a pretty laid-back, casual sort of day... just what I (and we) need. I think that later today I'll try and revisit Zosna camp, and attempt to recall and record more about the campfires in particular, since they were probably the most important part of each day and of the week.
(Friday afternoon)

This has turned out to be quite the random day (what's new, right?), but also an interesting one. Right now I'm sitting at a picnic school at some random elementary school which is within sight of the foot of a giant glacier, tucked back near the end of a long valley which follows a river that just slices and dices its way between snow-capped mountains on its way out to the fjord. And why am I here? for a volleyball tournament that I'm not even playing in. Go figure. Karlis, one of the local guys in Skjolden, recruited some of us for a volleyball tournament going on this evening. I wasn't particularly keen on playing (I'm not that good, and I wanted to do some more journaling), but Darrell couldn't go and they needed someone to drive Olav's car there... and since I love to drive, and am one of only a couple people on the team who know how to drive a stick shift, I gladly volunteered to do the chauffeuring. Today started off overcast and rainy, but it's turned into a beautiful, clear, sunny, breezy afternoon and evening; I love it. I can't imagine attending elementary school in such a paradisaical setting, with stunning views all around... but I bet the kids don't really pay much attention to the view.

Earlier this afternoon we spent some more time encouraging one another (we did some last night, too). I love being able to tell people how much they've meant to me and to the kingdom. I'm trying to be more intentional about doing it as part of my daily life, but it's nice to have some time set apart specifically for building one another up. As much as I hate being in the spotlight, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy receiving some praise and encouragement after a summer of service. I was especially encouraged by the fact that several people said that they appreciate my direct style of question-asking. Sometimes I worry about coming across as a real debbie-downer, always being the one to kill a fun moment with a serious or thought-provoking question or comment. This past year I've been trying to become more direct and focused in my conversations, and for the direction and focus to be on the eternal. I'm still pretty rough at it, but I've seen a lot of fruitful conversations and thoughts come into play as a result of timely and pertinent questions. I just hope that somehow, some way, I can prod people towards the Light... and hopefully inspire them to seek out truth for themselves.

I really love this team, these people - I love the way that we've bonded and learned to work together, the way we seem to display so many different traits and characteristics which allow us to come together as the unified body of Christ. So cool. I'll admit, I've had my doubts at times as to whether we would really be able to gel like we needed to, but I underestimated the power of God to work his will through weak and frail humans, myself included. It was cool to see how we really became a team once we started at Zosna camp. Any differences which might have kept us from being truly unified before camp slipped away as we became focused on a common goal: serve God, serve others, and nothing else matters.

I'm having a real hard time recording what happened last week at camp... it already feels so long ago. I had hoped that I could take a few sparse notes each day and then recreate the events afterwards, but now I'm not quite sure that's possible. It doesn't feel quite right to try and write as though I'm in the moment when in actuality I'm far removed from it. So, I gues it's just remember and reflect...

One of the most frustrating parts about being "campfire co-director" was the random and flexible nature of Zosna camp. Beth and I would usually sit down sometime during the day and try to map out what we wanted to happen that night. The usual lineup would include some songs, skits, testimonies, games, daily recaps, memory verse review, questions for discussion, all designed to try and fit in with the main theme and mood of the day's lessons. But, you would never know what time the campfire would start, which would have a direct impact on how much you could squeeze in before people started nodding off to sleep. In addition, you never knew what additional "acts" were on tap until the night actually began.

One night a group from a nearby church came and basically put on a Russian worship music concert... which, if you don't speak Russian, is about as interesting as watching paint dry. And even if you do speak Russian but are under the age of 40, you're probably not going to really dig it either. So, that night we had to drastically cut what we had ready to go... as we did the next night, Friday evening, when some random chap, seemingly out of the blue, got up and started directing us to play a couple of bizarrely random games. They included activities like sewing buttons onto pieces of cloth, and arranging our shoes to spell Russian words. Not only were they boring and bizarre, but they took up a ton of time on a night we had a bunch of stuff lined up (it was "talent night," and we had a full slate of songs and skits that the older Latvians had put together).

We had planned to have some sort of an "altar call" at the end of that night, since all of the kids from the orphanage were leaving the next morning and it was our last campfire as a "full" camp. But, between the bizarre games and having to cut out almost everything that we had planned, it seemed like the mood we were trying to create had been effectively killed. That is, until Ivan got up there and shared his testimony... you could feel people starting to engage again. We went ahead with our end-game plan, I said a few rods to challenge the camp to think about taking a step towards Christ, then Adam C. led a time of worship while a few of us hung out in the back and waited for someone to pray with... but no-one came. I had been praying all day long (even had fasted that morning, after another one of those moments where I felt God leading me to do so) for the camp, for individuals, and for at least one person to come to Christ that night. I had already seen God doing some amazing stuff throughout the day, so I went into the evening with high hopes and expectations... which quickly turned to sadness, frustration, disappointment, and anger that my biggest request hadn't been answered. How could nobody respond to the call of the Lord?

But just at my darkest moment, Yannis, a guy in his early 20's with just the biggest smile and friendliest personality ever, despite (or because of?) living at the orphanage and being limited by some mental and developmental difficulties, came over to me, smiled that smile of his, slung his arm around my shoulder and started singing along as best as he could. It was if God was telling me "Hey look, I can answer your prayer... but on my time, with my agenda, and how I want to." So true, so touching, and so humbling.

We had planned on having a time of sharing on the last night of camp (Saturday), a chance for people to tell how God had been teaching them and calling them that week... but that ended up getting postponed until Sunday afternoon when what I had thought was going to be one person's 10-minute testimony somehow turned into a four-person, hour-long recap of the material we'd studied that week. It didn't exactly resonate with anyone for a variety of reasons, and wasn't what we had in mind for that evening in particular. I was sitting around the campfire later that night feeling a little melancholy, both over the way the events of the evening had played out and also about the fact that it was my last night at Zosna camp, when some local kids sat down across the fire from me. Cody had been hanging out with them for most of the week, despite the fact that they weren't technically campers but were just some kids who lived in the area who hung out at Zosna camp off and on that week. A few of them had written a letter to the entire camp that day, saying how much they enjoyed being a part of camp this year (albeit in limited form) and that they appreciated everyone's kindness and openness and that they were trying to get to know God better as a result. Pretty wild stuff!

Anyways, I felt led to chat with them, so I started up a conversation with one of the guys, Anders, who I had just officially met for the first time earlier that day (but who Cody had been witnessing to all that week). I told him I appreciated the letter that he and his friends had written to the camp, and started asking what he thought about Jesus. One thing led to another, and next thing I knew we were sitting together a little ways away from the campfire (the rest of his friends had ditched him for a smoke break) and he was praying for the first time to be a Christian. Halle-freakin'-lujah!

I was worried while we were praying that he might not "get it," that something might be getting lost due to his limited English... but right after he said "Amen," he grabbed his heart, and literally started gasping for air, and started saying "Whoa... whoa... this feeling... I feel so... I don't even have words... My heart, it's light, it's free!?! I can't even explain it... Whoa..."

Yikes.

I was just sitting there, probably with my jaw scraping the ground, utterly amazed at how awesome our God is. Salvation? Available for free? To me? No way! Who wouldn't want to share that good news? There's something so absolutely refreshing about seeing the gift of salvation through the eyes of a new believer; he was in utter disbelief that it really, truly, was that simple. No need for a church, or a priest, or any huge ceremony... just believe. I felt so humbled to be in a position to share that moment with him. I was worried that I might have butted in and totally stole a moment from Cody that he had been hoping and praying for, but when we tracked him down to share the good news, he told me how he had been praying for God to use someone else to lead one of those guys to Christ to help keep him humble and remind him that it's not him, it's all God. So true. Only God could work everything out in such a fantastically amazing way.

Since we didn't get our "sharing time" in during the last campfire, we managed to find time to squeeze it in on Sunday before everyone left. I kicked it off by sharing some of what God had been teaching me that week (more on that later; I'm still processing), another guy got up and shared some really deep and personal stuff... and then a lady came up and shared, in essence, the story of St. Francis of Assisi. Talk about a total mood kill (not to mention a serious "huh?" moment). The whole time she was talking (which was forever), I could see people's eyelids drooping and attention wandering (I'll admit, I resorted to praying for rain so we could just kill the session and get on with our lives). By the time she finished I wondered if there was an ounce of energy or emotion left in the camp... but then up strolled a girl who proceeded to share about how, at camp this year, she was finally deciding to start coming back towards Christ in her life. It was touching, it was powerful, and the timing couldn't have been better.

All week long I kept seeing how God was working his will at camp, and he was going to see it carried out... with or without us, regardless of how well things were planned out or how many unexpected interruptions there were, with people's cooperation or without. It just made me realize once again how great God is, how small I am, and how privileged I was (and am) to have an opportunity to take part in the furtherance of his kingdom. And now the volleyball tournament is drawing to an end, and I must resume my chauffeuring duties swiftly... and it looks like some people might need some consolation as well. A few American spirits appear to have been bruised on the harsh sands of the volleyball court today.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Riga, feeling oh-so-artsy; here I am, a writer, sipping coffee and plying my trade in a foreign locale! How quaint. The reality of it is, though, that I've almost been dreading sitting down to catch up on my journaling - there's so much to cover from the last week and change that I'm not entirely sure where to start. I had grand dreams of journaling every day while at camp, but I quickly realized that not only was that idea impractical, but the couple of pages I might have found time to write each day would not have come close to covering all the events, emotions, and contacts from each day. Obviously, waiting until the week is over to do one giant recap isn't a stellar idea, either... but too much happened this past week to not even try to write about it. Maybe I should have written every day, instead of making excuses about not having enough time or energy; it'd sure make this recap process a lot easier, instead of trying to decipher some hastily scribbled notes. Anyways, here goes nothing...

I don't think I'll be able to recreate and outline the events of each day, but I'll try to recall and relate some of the highlights. In the grand scheme of things, I'm far more interested in writing about people, emotions, reactions and relationships, but the actual physical location of the camp is worth describing to set the context. Zosna is a small little village about 30 minutes from Rezekne (I'd describe the drive to camp for you, but frankly I've never seen the roads... every time I've traveled to or from Zosna I've either been buried in the back of a cargo van or it's been pitch dark out). It's a farming community, and apparently dirt poor. The camp is held at an old, dilapidated school, which dates back well into the Soviet era, and is oddly enough located on the shores of the largest lake in Latvia.

The main building is fairly run down but still functional (in the most stringent sense of the word), at least for our purposes. It's two stories tall, with 5 classrooms on each floor (our team occupies a couple classrooms, and some of the kids and staff sleep in the others, but most of the kids sleep in tents out back), in addition to a large meeting hall and kitchen which are located on a wing on ground level. Most of the cooking is done on a huge wood-burning cookstove outdoors behind the building, where a couple of guys spend most of the day stoking the fire and stirring pots filled with whatever is on the menu; soup or pasta are common choices. The kitchen indoors is pretty basic - there's no running water, and they have to bring in their own propane stove to use during the week, but somehow the ladies working in there manage to keep everyone well-fed despite the spartan conditions.

The "dining room" consists of several sketchy tables and benches situated in an alcove behind the building, and covered by a giant tarp... which doesn't quite cover the entire eating area. The bench at the far end tends to get quite wet if it's raining at all. The tarp was an early-week addition (new this year!) - before its appearance everyone would just eat in the meeting hall if it rained. In theory, the tarp was a brilliant idea... but in practice, it was too riddled with holes, susceptible to being torn off by gusts of wind, and generally more of a hassle than a help.

The campfire, where we spend most of our evenings, is located in between the building and the lake. Oddly enough, even though we're located within a stone's throw of this large lake, we have to walk 10-15 minutes to another nearby lake to go swimming and wash up; apparently, the lake by the camp isn't clean enough to swim in, and there's all sorts of glass and debris at the bottom. So sad. I, personally, would not go into that lake if you paid me ten dollars, since I saw a ginormous lake creature/monster in it last year. You can laugh all you want, but i know what I saw, and I don't plan on tempting fate by wandering into its lair.

Speaking of dangerous things, there's a playground on one side of the property that accurately fits the description, "if it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger." It's old, rusty, and dilapidated, and seems designed more to create an agile and chiseled physique than to be a place to play; it has a balance beam, dip bars, chin-up bars, monkey bars, a set of weights, even a sand pit to practice doing jumps and flips into. Bizarre.

The volleyball court is oversized and overgrown, and the football pitch (aka "soccer field") is small and spartan - the goals consist of some pipes stuck into the ground at each end of the field. Despite the fairly primitive conditions, everyone loves the place; it's quaint, it's old, it's rustic, and it keeps you focused on the real reason you're there (relationships) rather than on awesome facilities or amazing programming. The one part of the camp, though, that everyone is in agreement about being horrendous, are the toilets. They're awful. they harbor a perpetual, lingering odor of feces in them, the toilets don't always flush (due to low-to-non-existent water pressure), and even when they did it was sometimes cause for concern, as you would have to be cautious to avoid being splashed by water flowing over the very material you hoped to abandon there. I don't know who designed the style of toilets, but they were either stupid, criminally mischievous, or had never seen a "real" toilet in their life. They had a sort of shelf or platform strategically placed to receive your deposit, which would then be swept away into the drain at the front of the toilet by the water rushing in from the back. This idea may be great in theory, but two problems immediately become evident upon first use: (1) some things are best left unexposed to air, which is capable of conveying offensive odors swiftly and strongly to your nasal cavities, and (2) should random distribution of matter create a mass which has a sloped or ramp-like characteristic, the sudden influx of water may fail to wash the matter away and instead ramp up into the air and splash messily around in a confined and nearly inescapable area.

Even worse, however, than the malodorous toilets were the evil mosquitoes which lived there. not content with chomping on body parts normally exposed during the day (as their outdoor cousins were quite adept at doing), upon entering the bathroom they would immediately target the most sensitive areas of flesh as soon as they were exposed. Not cool. The "mozzies," as the Brits call them, were characteristically ferocious all week long, no matter where you were. The evening campfires were the worst; if you weren't right near the fire or wearing a jacket and long pants, they would absolutely destroy you.

(Enough about the physical location)... The week started off pretty well. Not to pat myself on the back, but I think the section in Philippians that I talked about and led some discussion on helped to set the tone for the week about what we were there to do (serve God, serve others). Some of the team had a rough start to the week - I think that the fairly primitive conditions, a bizarrely random camp where the only schedule is that there is no schedule, the language barrier, and a different environment and culture than people were accustomed to helped get people waaaayy out of their comfort zone (which is always a good thing, I think). Plus it usually takes a few days for people to get to know the kids and figure out what works in their Bible study groups.

My group (actually, "our" group, since I was co-leading with Jane, one of the gals from the UK) got off to a slow start the first couple of days - it was really hard to get them involved and comfortable enough to speak their mind. It was discouraging at first, because I had run into the same exact difficulty last year and had high hopes for this group this year, as the kids were a bit older (16-17 year-olds, mostly) and I knew some of them already, and they seemed to have a lot more potential for deeper discussion and conversation which we were unable to really tap into and unleash. By the 3rd day, though, they really started to open up and engage with the text, and by the end of the week it was obvious that God was using his Word to work in all of our lives.

We spent the week looking at passages from John which dealt with the question of "What is Truth?" It was deep and meaty stuff, but it was fun to see the group beginning to chew on and mull over some heavy topics. Steve sat in on our second session, and he commented afterwards that it seemed like I was doing most of the talking. At first I reacted negatively to his critique (which was ridiculous, since I had asked him for his honest opinion/advice/criticism in the first place!), thinking to myself that gosh, if no-one else is going to talk then someone has to say something. There's no harm in explaining something about the passage, or telling how they could apply some concept to their life, is there? Maybe not, but as Steve reminded me, there can be a good way to teach, and there can be a better way... and I was probably settling for an o.k. study group instead of pushing for awesome.

Anyways, after a couple of mediocre days to start the week, Jane and I started trying to ask even more pointed, poignant, and personal questions... and whether out methods improved or it just took a couple of days for our group to gel, they started to respond. The last two days we had them take their booklets (which had the texts we were looking at printed in English and Russian on them) back with them and read over the passage we would be looking at the next day, and come prepared with some questions of their own that they had after reading through the passage. That seemed to work well, and spurred on some great discussion. When it comes right down to it, we all have the same questions in life: Why is there so much pain in this world? How can I possibly live a life pleasing to God when I screw up all the time? If God loves me, why does He let me suffer? Yikes... those are the same sort of questions that I'm still looking for answers to. It's humbling to have someone ask you a question that not only do you not have a good answer for, but that you've been wrestling with for years. I guess all you can do (and what we did) is share from personal experience, point them to the Word where relevant, and express an absolute confidence in God's love and sovereignty. What else can you do?

I think the watershed moment came on day 3 - Jane came up with an idea for a great ice-breaker to help get the discussion started on the topic of trust: the ever-enjoyable "trust fall." It was fun, everyone shared some laughs, and Anatoly even joined in the fun when he happened to stop by to visit our group. He shared from his life a couple of times during the week with our group, and it was always so great to hear how God has been at work in his life, and see how his heart for others beats so strongly.


I'm running out of time... I've only got about an hour left until we all have to meet back together, and I have oceans of material left to cover. I feel like I've only just begun to touch on the week, and everything is fading quickly from the nearly-present into distant memory. Oh well... I'll just do what I can today and hopefully cover some more later.


I may have mentioned this before, but it was really hard for me to see some of the kids from the orphanage again - not because I didn't want to see them (I did! and it was great to be able to see some of them again), but because it hurt my heart to realize that, while my life goes on, they're still stuck in their perpetual state of limbo, hoping to escape that life somehow. How can you show someone that God loves them when it may seem to them that they're unwanted and unlovable? Seeing Vladik again, especially, opened up a wave of emotions that were familiar from last year... wishing I could do more for those kids, upset that I was so helpless, broken-hearted because of their plight. One thing I'm just now realizing is that god can still use their absolute shit situation for some good - Vladik's sensitive heart, friendly nature and gentle spirit touched many people, both last year and this, American, British and Latvian. So you could say that God is using a bad situation to work good in people's lives... but that only leaves the question half answered: is God still good if the world isn't? Tough question. The reflex "Christian-ese" answer is "Of course He is! He's God, and God = good." But reflex answers don't always touch on the deeper issues, the personal pain and suffering that is common to every member of the human race. God is good, I know that, but then how come life is so filled with pain? That seems to be the question of the week...

One thing that really encouraged me this year was the growth that I observed in some of the guys I knew from the year before. Ivan and Victor in particular seem to be in a good place - attending a good church in Riga, getting into the Word, asking questions and listening. On Friday night we had sort of a "talent night," hoping to have the Latvians do most of the stuff during the campfire that we had been doing: songs, skits, testimonies, etc. I had asked Ivan earlier that day if he would share his testimony that night, and he was very hesitant, unsure if he was ready or willing to take that step and share in front of everyone. I kept asking him during the day and was praying my guts out for him, but even ten minutes before we had him slated to share he wasn't quite sure if he was up for it... But when it was crunch time, he finally consented, stepped up, and knocked it out of the park. I was so proud of him, so grateful to be his friend, and so blessed by his story - and I think a lot of others were, too. he shared about how he had grown up in a Christian home, but it wasn't until this past year that he really committed his life to Christ and made his family's faith his own. It meant some lifestyle changes and some hard decisions, but he knew that he couldn't limp along any longer with the crutches of other people's faith: he needed his own. I think that it hit a lot of people right between the eyes... not just his story, but the fact that he was willing to be so open and vulnerable in front of his peers.

I had been praying and hoping all week long for one of the older guys in particular to sort of "step up" and show that they took their faith seriously, and that it was important to them. It seemed to me that, especially in that culture where everyone seems to take their cues from those older than them, one of the older guys being willing to share their testimony could have a real positive impact on the camp as a whole that we, as foreigners, couldn't hope to replicate. Time will tell if that turns out to be the case.


I'm getting to overwhelmed with thoughts, emotions, and memories right now to have any hope of getting them down coherently... I think I need to talk a walk and get my thoughts settled down and organized.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

I really hate goodbyes.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

I hate goodbyes.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

It's so hard to remember to make time to write in this journal on the best of days, but when things get crazy at camp it's one of the first things to get cut. I think that what I need to do is at least jot down some brief notes from each day so I can expand on them later when I have time. Speaking of time... gotta go.

Monday, July 7, 2008

First night at Zosna is in the books. Actually got some good sleep, which is good because I'm sure that I'll need every hour that I can get this week. It was so great to be remembered yesterday by some people I met last year... there's something special about hearing your name from someone you haven't seen in a year, and realizing that they recognize you, they know you, they remember you.. When I saw Victor and Ivan again, and I saw a light go on in their eyes when they recognized me (as I hope it did in mine when I saw them), and I realized that they were genuinely thrilled that I was back - that was a special moment. Perhaps that's part of what I long for, what I crave: to be known, and to be desired... not in a self-promoting, narcissistic sort of way, but I think that it does something good for the soul to be needed, wanted, even longed for by someone else.

Maybe these sort of reunitings are a mirror of what heaven will be like, and more specifically what Christ's reaction will be when I finally meet Him: genuine excitement to see me, thrilled to be able to communicate face-to-face, and eagerly welcoming me into his Kingdom...

I'm sharing from Philippians 1:20-30 today in our team meeting. I'm hoping to be able to challenge the team to be unified, to serve extravagantly, and to model a Christ-centered life this week. Hopefully I can walk that fine line between being challenging and being pushy. Anyways, enough of this... only a few more hours until Zosna Camp 2008 officially begins, and there's tons to do.
(Monday evening)

Well, the craziness has begun. The campers have arrived, most everyone is here, and camp is up and running. It seems that they're trying to tighten up some of the rules this year - imposing a mandatory bedtime of midnight being one of them (which no-one seems to think will actually be enforced or observed). One of the reasons I love this camp is because it's so free... there are very few rules, restrictions or regulations, and yet everything seems to run smoothly and nobody ever seems to get hurt or into serious trouble. I'd hate to see that loose, care-free environment disappear, but perhaps it's for the best. Maybe it's time for Zosna camp to grow up.

It was sort of bittersweet to see some of the kids from the orphanage again; good to see them, of course, but sad to realize that they're in the exact same situation and place as they were last year when we parted company. One of the kids, Vladik, was elated to see me, but that quickly turned to sadness when he realized that his best friend from last year, Alan, wasn't here this summer. I felt awful for the poor kid; life is hard enough for him without having to face a big disappointment like that during camp, of all places. How do you fix that sort of problem, besides keeping on coming back every summer? I'm not sure.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

We leave for Rezekne in a couple of hours (it's where Anatoly and his family live, only about half an hour from Zosna). The plan for the morning is to hit up the pancake house again for breakfast, then swing back by the hostel to pick up our bags on our way to the train station, where we'll catch a train for Rezekne.

I've been thinking some more about what I long for, but the more time I spend pondering the question, the further away I feel from an answer. Maybe the answer is that I don't know - perhaps I need to be more concerned with discovering rather than realizing what I long for.
(Sunday evening)

Zosna Camp at last! I've been longing to some back here ever since last summer, and at last here I am. So far it's been extremely similar to last year: train ride to Rezekne, pile into a vans and ride to Anatoly's house (he's the guy who pretty much runs Zosna camp, and is one of the most generous, loving, humble, and godly men that I've ever met), hang out there for a couple hours, eat a meal, pile back into vehicles along with all our stuff, hang on for dear life in the back of a cargo van filled with random pieces of equipment as we hurtle down bumpy dirt roads without regard for life or limb, arrive at camp slightly disheveled and disoriented but alive, unload the vans, sweep and wash floors, unpack, hang out for a while, and then voila... here I am.

Some of the 'staff' is here already (the older campers both participate in the camp and help run and organize things during the week), and it's been great to see some old friends... Victor, Sasha, Ivan, Micha, Danik, Tima, and of course Anatoly. Hopefully when everyone else arrives tomorrow I'll be able to reconnect with even more people as well as start forging some new relationships. I'm just thrilled to be back... I had a feeling in my heart of hearts last year that Zosna Camp wasn't going to be just a one-time event for me, and I'm so thankful that God made it possible for me to return. The facilities are spartan, the living conditions are primitive, but the relationships are priceless. Much as I feel like I belong in Skjolden in some small way, I feel like this camp was made for me (and me for it). I'm sure that by the end of the week I'll be less optimistic and cheerful as fatigue, tiredness and a lock of sleep and protein sets in, but as for now I am thoroughly thrilled to be here.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

We're in Latvia! Arrived last night around 10pm. We're staying in a hostel in Riga until tomorrow, when the team will take a train to Rezekne and get ready for Zosna Camp. The past couple of days have been a bit of a whirlwind, hence my lack of journal entries. Thursday was supposed to be a day of "rest and prep," doing some tidying up around the hostel and packing for Latvia but otherwise laid back. Instead, it ended up being a full day of pouring concrete for the new basement flooring and also some exterior sections. I'm never opposed to doing some good man-work, but it was slightly inconvenient timing. I feel like I didn't really get a chance to put in some extra prep time that I would have liked to for the Bible studies, campfire coordination and planning, and getting a seminar that I'm leading with Joshua on 'identity' ready to go. Such is life. I think some people were pretty upset that out "free day" ended up getting usurped, but the way I tried to look at it was that I came here, first and foremost, to serve... and if that involves lugging wheelbarrow-fulls of concrete around on a day I had planned to relax, so be it. I'm not sure where the miscommunication was, but that doesn't really concern me. All I needed to do (and, I hope, was able to do) was my job, which more or less consisted of doing the kind of work I love: being outside, doing physically strenuous tasks, and hanging out with some quality fellow workers.

By the end of the day Thursday, I was super-exhausted... after four long, hard days of work I was ready for some well-earned rest. Unfortunately, I didn't end up sleeping particularly well that night - by the time I finished packing up my stuff and eating strawberry shortcake (Thomas and Anina's son, Jacob, had a birthday party, so I of course had to partake of the food and festivities) it was after midnight. And, of course, I had a hard time felling asleep even then, between thinking about the day and also getting all keyed up about leaving for Latvia the next morning. But I did manage to catch a few hours of slumber before the night completely disappeared.

Yesterday was a full day of travel - had a hearty pancake breakfast to kick off the day, sang the Star Spangled Banner before breakfast to commemorate the day, and then hopped on the 9:40 bus out of Skjolden. We arrived at the Oslo airport at 5:30 after a long but beautiful bus ride, got our tickets and made it through security without any hassles (Cody managed to smuggle his small plastic sword through, which he of course was justifiably ecstatic about), and our flight left right on time at 7:30. Arrived in Riga at 10:15 local time (one hour difference), and we finally got to bed around midnight. As usual, I was unable to sleep on either the bus or the plane, but I did get in a solid seven hours last night so I was feeling fairly bright and chipper this morning.

I was talking to Cody for a little while on the bus ride to Oslo, and we both mentioned how thankful we were for each others good attitude over the past 3-4 days of work. I told him that I had just enough willpower to get myself through the day and that I was glad he didn't need me to prop him up and keep him motivated. I've been in situations before where I was doing total crap jobs and had to not only keep myself motivated but also had to be continually pulling and pushing other along as well. not much fun, especially if you're struggling just to make it through the day yourself.

Anyways, we made it to Riga without any trouble, met up with Steve and Debs and the rest of the U.K. team, and made our way (thanks to Steve's guidance) to City Hostel, which is located right in downtown Riga. It's a splendid place - quite a change of pace from Fun Friendly Frank's, where we stayed last year. It's smaller, quieter, no drunken revelers parading around the premises at all hours, and it's in an ideally central location in the city.

We've spent all of today in Riga, seeing the sights... started off the day with a team meeting at 9, talked a little bit about the day, and spent some time looking at Philippians 1 (we'll be going through the book as a team over the next week or so). Beth was leading the discussion, and she posed the question, "What do you long for?" That's a tough one... I've been mulling it over for most of the day. What do I long for? Is it food? Fellowship? Relationships? Companionship? God? I think I need to spend some more time meditating on that question, because it's a doozie, with all sorts of potential ramifications.

Breakfast was great - ate at the pancake house, which makes some of the world's greatest pancakes - and then we walked around and saw some of the city sights. We visited the Freedom Monument, a museum commemorating the long history of Latvia's occupation, strolled through some pretty parks, and then stopped in at an incredibly elaborate and ornate Greek Orthodox church. I could probably fill most of this notebook with though from and related to that church... but suffice it to say that it was very interesting, and a very different style of architecture and worship that your average Protestant would be used to.

I've been trying to watch and observe our team today and try to get a feel for how they'll react as individuals and as a group once we arrive at camp. Frankly, I'm slightly worried, both for a few people and for the team as a whole. I know God can and probably will do some incredible stuff no matter what, but I'm not sure how much we'll be able to accomplish without a clear sense of unity, which up to this point at least seems to be lacking. Maybe it will come... I sure hope it does. The usual equation for unity is something like "(number of days spent together + hours spent doing service projects) / (number of people x (number of different cultures squared))." A positive number should indicate a high potential for unity, and a negative number a low potential. So, according to my calculations... I have no idea. I think we're probably right on the cusp of breaking into some solid positive numbers, but we can't afford to let any personal or cultural differences hinder our ministry at Zosna Camp.

Today has been a weird sort of day for me emotionally. Over the past few years, it seems like God has been creating a heightened awareness in me of pain in other people's lives, which is sort of a mixed blessing. What can you do for someone who's soul is obviously wounded besides pray? I don't know... prayer feels so underwhelming in a situation like that, but at the same time I know it's the best possible reaction. Helplessness may not be a great feeling, but it does allow God greater liberty to work His healing power in our lives.

Spent the afternoon at the beach, which was fantastic. I love the beach... even if the view is slightly degraded due to too many people wearing too little clothing. When there's nothing left to the imagination, the human body becomes slightly less appealing (at least to me). Anyways, it's been another long day, and this is my last night of sleep in a real bed for over a week, so I'm outta here.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Gosh, am I tired. I've spent the better part of the last three days in the basement, jackhammering, sledgehammering, chipping, grinding, and even sawing away at concrete and rock. We've more or less completed the major tasks we set out to do, so that's good. Tomorrow should be a fairly light day, mostly cleaning up around the place and packing up our stuff for Latvia (we leave on Friday morning). The Brits leave early tomorrow morning for Bergen, where they'll spend a day seeing the sights before meeting up with us on Friday in Riga.

Today was a really brutal day, physically and mentally - Cody and I spent the entire day in the dark, dusty basement (we joked that it looked like a mining camp, with all the dust and debris) trying to literally saw and chip away at a giant boulder embedded in the foundation of the house. We had to carve away a big chunk of it in order be able to install the new floor. It was really kind of depressing, spending the entire day (the past 3 days, really) indoors in a dark, dusty corner of the basement, and making extremely slow progress. Fortunately, Cody is a kindred spirit when it comes to hard labor, and we were able to keep each other motivated and focused on the task. Boy did it feel good to crawl out of that hole at the end of the day and jump into the cool, refreshing fjord!

We spent some time praying for Latvia tonight - for people, places, camp, etc. Steve and Debs made up some prayer cards with pictures on them so we could put faces to names and see what we were praying for. It was good to see some pictures of people I know and places I've been; I'm looking forward to finally getting back there, and hopefully seeing some of the same people this year.

Monday, June 30, 2008

Man am I bushed... we've been going pretty steady today at some hardcore demolition projects in the basement. I've spent most of the day jackhammering out some old concrete flooring so that they'll eventually be able to install some new flooring. It's been a long day, but it feels really good to relax after doing some quality man-work all day long. Just got finished with some hearty soup for supper, which hit the spot. I'm not sure what else to report on from today - it's been a busy day but fairly non-eventful. Tomorrow's forecast: more man-work!

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Today has been exactly what it should be: a day of rest. I've been doing some thinking over the past few weeks about what it means to remember the Sabbath and keep it holy. I'd like to try and develop a "rule of life" concerning the Sabbath that could help me to truly observe it, while also avoiding becoming legalistic about the idea. It's not that I think there's anything special or sacred about any particular day of the week; it's that I strongly feel (and is seems that Scripture would back me up) that setting one day aside every week as a sabbath day, set apart for rest, enjoyment and worship, is not just beneficial: it's essential to a healthy physical and spiritual life.

I think one thing I'd like to try and incorporate into my life would be to avoid any sort of work (at a job, for money) on Sunday and to avoid doing anything which would cause someone else to have to work: buying groceries, traveling, going to the movies, etc. I'm not sure if that's at all practical without imposing on anyone else or creating any inconvenience, but I think it's worth exploring at the very least.

I had a real good talk with Darrell Jr. yesterday. We spent some time in the word together, talked about some stuff from our lives - struggles, triumphs, thoughts on the trip so far, etc. - and prayed for the team and for our impending trip to Latvia. He's one of those rare people who is able to fill the roles of friend, mentor, and leader simultaneously, and I always enjoy getting to know him better. Plus he's a fellow surfer, so that means we have a connection which starts us at a much deeper level than most relationships do.

Last night I decided (or rather, I felt led, and for once I listened to my heart) to skip supper and spend some time praying for the team. I felt really burdened for the well-being of a couple of people in particular, and I didn't know how else to reach out to them except through prayer. I spent some time praying for the team in general, too - for unity, cross-cultural relations, and a solidarity of purpose. It was really hard to bring myself to skip supper; it was homemade pizza with strawberry-rhubarb crisp for dessert (rhubarb that I had picked, no less!). But, perhaps abstaining from something I'd genuinely enjoy is more meaningful (and powerful?) that simply skipping a bread and spread meal.

I'd just been talking about the idea of fasting with Darrell that morning when we were chatting, especially the idea that sometimes people use a potential lack of secrecy as an excuse not to fast, and how that doesn't seem to be the main thrust of Matthew 6. The big idea seems to be, where is your reward going to come from, men or heaven? If we fast in secret the Lord will reward us, but that doesn't necessarily make fasting sinful if it's impossible to be totally inconspicuous. It seems that the potential reward may be lessened if we receive praise in this life, and while fasting in order to be seen by others is obviously not the best motive it doesn't seem to make sense that complete secrecy is essential for fasting to be holy. It's about motives, and where we plan on getting our reward from.

(Brief sidenote: why am I even writing about this, knowing that people will read it? Isn't that sort of blowing my own horn, and completely forfeiting any potential heavenly reward? Maybe... yikes. I don't know. I'd like to think my motives are completely pure, but honestly, I'm not sure. But I don't feel like doing a ton of erasing, so out of sheer laziness I'll just let it ride).

Anyways, even though I figured it would be impossible to operate completely under the radar, I decided that it was something that I needed to do. And wow... I can't believe how quickly God started working on some of the things I was really burdened about. Should I be surprised? Nope, but I am. I've begun to realize that I'm still hesitant to pray with the complete confidence that God will answer my requests. This is probably some leftover baggage from times in the past where I was absolutely confident that God would answer my prayer, but He ended up having other plans in mind. I want that confidence and trust back... I'm sick of praying and trusting at a 90-95% level. I want it all, potential disappointment and pain be dammed.

Another bright spot to the fasting experience was that I got to break my mini-fast (note: I know that skipping one meal is a pansy fast. But anything more than that would seem to be a bit extreme given the current setting. Plus, I was hungry) down on the dock this morning when we celebrated Communion together and had a little church service. Fasting is good for my soul, of that I'm sure... I need to do a better job of incorporating it more regularly into my life. A Sabbath is also good for me, and today was a proper one in all regards. We had a monstrous pancake brunch after "church," and as I was quite ready for some physical food at that point in the day I ended up putting down a solid baker's dozen of blueberry/raspberry/chocolate chip pancakes. De-licious.

The next three days are going to be "work days," as we have a wide range of projects to do in and around the hostel before we head off to Latvia at the end of the week. I'm looking forward to doing some good man-work around here, which will hopefully also serve to deepen and further cement relationships within the team, as well as get some projects and renovations accomplished. We've had a few more additions to the house over the past couple days: another Brit, Lidya, has joined the team (she'll be going with us to Latvia), as well as a couple of Darrell's friends from the U.S., Robert and Jim, who are both carpenters and are here to help us with the work week. Thomas and Anina are also here with their family; they co-own/run Elvheim, along with Darrell and Annette and a couple other families.

I think I'm ready for bed... I'm probably forgetting or skipping over something important, but sleep calls. I'm the last person up, even though it's only 11:30, but the next couple of days are going to be busy ones.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Today was "Latvia Prep Day." Steve and Debs gave us a rundown of what to expect and how we can prepare ourselves. it's weird to be in a position of knowing what to expect for a change - I almost miss not knowing. Part of what made Zosna Camp so awesome last year was the combination of not knowing what to expect, and then realizing that it's such a crazy place that even if you did have expectations, they probably weren't going to be met. It's that unpredictable. I'm sort of on guard against falling into the trap of feeling more important than I really am, or of hoarding any sort of information or power in regards to the Latvia portion of the trip. Just because I've been there before and have an idea about what to expect doesn't give me any special rights. It's been a lesson in humility this summer to continually try and let others step to the front even when I feel it's my "right" or prerogative to have control over a certain area. I came into the summer thinking I was going to be in a little more of a leadership role than I ended up fitting into; honestly, the role I'm in right now is probably perfect for me, but that still doesn't keep me from craving or lusting after more control and power (even though I know that I'd hate it if I ever got what I wanted).

Yesterday afternoon I had a real great time with Olav. I dropped him off in Sogndal at his sister's house, and drove his car back here; he's letting us borrow his car for the rest of the summer, as he will be visiting the U.S. until August and won't have any need of his car until then. It's extremely generous of him to let us borrow his pride and joy (a late 1980's Saab turbo; I love driving Saabs!). We stopped for lunch on our way down to Sogndal and visited a farm which has been in his family for several generations. It's right on the side of Molden (the mountain we hiked earlier last Sunday, I think), which is right at the junction of two arms of the fjord. The farm is located at an absolutely gorgeous spot, where you can see mountains and water all around you. We've been joking about co-purchasing the place should it ever go up for sale, fixing it up a little bit and turning it into a working farm again. A pipe dream, to be sure, but a fun one. And, you just never know...

Once I got back, we had a rousing game of football and then an absolutely delicious fish dinner to cap off the week. Now that this past week is over and it's just us and the Brits left here at Elvheim, I have Latvia on the brain like nobody's business. I absolutely love it here at Elvheim... but this time would be pointless if we didn't take advantage of the time we've spent in the Word and with each other. And Latvia is a perfect proving ground. That camp, those kids, that while environment is an amazing opportunity for ministry and for growth... plus, it's got a special place in my heart. I'll have a bit of a different role at camp this year, a little more involved in planning and coordinating some activities and events... which is both an exciting and terrifying prospect.