This is the last "official" day of Discipleship Week. It's been a great week overall, but it's also had a different feel from what I remember last year. I think part of that is because there wasn't nearly as large an international contingent this year, due in part to the unfortunate visa troubles that the group from Belarus ran into, which at first delayed their arrival and then eventually canceled it altogether. I was really bummed about that... I had been praying for them to be able to make it as soon as I heard that they were having visa issues, but apparently God had different plans for them. Or did He? I must admit that I feel a bit of guilt over their absence, which sounds ridiculous I know, but it's true... I distinctly felt a call to spend some dedicated time praying and fasting for them, but I glossed over that feeling and contented myself with the occasional prayer for God to work everything out whenever I remembered. I mean, obviously God doesn't rely on my input to decide whether or not to lend aid in a situation... but I'm still left with the nagging feeling that I didn't hold up my end of the deal. I could have done more. I could have prayed harder, with greater trust and faith, and I could have skipped a meal or two and spent some time pleading for God to allow them to come. But I didn't. James 4 says that to not do what we know to be good is sin; not to beat up on myself too much, but does that mean that if I'm not praying as much as I know I should be that I'm living in sin? Yikes...

Last night we had some "man-time" for all the guys, which was alright but it consisted mainly of watching some football at the fjordstava with about 15 minutes of discussion during halftime. Hopefully we'll be able to follow up on that initial effort with some deeper talks and conversations about what it means to be a man of God. I think that I've let myself become slightly disappointed, disenchanted and mildly disenchanted over the way some things have been planned and/or carried out this past week. The trouble is deciding whether it's just me being a poor sport on a power trip (most likely) or whether I need to go to someone and say "hey, things are ok, but they could be tons better and here's why." Part of the problem is that it's so easy to compare this year to last, and since the study material for the week is basically the same it's even more convenient to fallback on worthless comparisons. How do you find that balance between contentment and striving for excellence, though? I'm a pretty content guy, generally speaking, and am quite adept at going with the flow... but what about those times when the flow is going in the wrong direction? I know that my content nature easily leads to complacency, but how do I know when I need to shake things up instead of sitting back and smiling? Hard to know.

Yesterday we hiked up to the top of Bolstadnose, which was just as fabulous a hike as I remembered it being from last year. A few people headed back after we stopped for lunch at Rebnisli, while the rest hiked on to the Skjolden overlook and on to the summit. Unfortunately, we couldn't spend much time enjoying the vast panorama of splendid views, as part of the view included a line of obvious rain-bearing clouds marching down the fjord in our general direction. We did manage to get in a brief bit of summer sledding as we made our way back down the mountain. I brought up the inner tubes which I had bought a week or so ago, and they worked great... a little too good, actually, as I was going way too fast to be able to stop once the snow ran out and quickly gave way to rocks. I got a little dinged up, but nothing serious.

Even though we got a little wet on the way down, it was still an awesome, exhilarating hike - quite possibly my favorite hike that I've done while in Norway. I had a chance to get to know some of the British team a bit better on the hike down (Adam, Gill, and Jane) as we debated the relative merits of having a tail. Steve, the cat lover that he is, was convinced that being endowed with a tail would make life much more interesting, but the prevailing opinion was that it would in fact be the most ridiculous thing ever if you had to go through life with a big, giant, furry tail attached to your backside, no matter what benefits it might provide. I'm looking forward to starting our Latvia preparation tomorrow with the Brits and the rest of the American squad. I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again, but it's the kids and the craziness of Zosna Camp in Latvia that's truly my main reason for being here... everything else is icing on the cake (and what sweet icing it is!). Sharing memories and talking about future plans for camp with Steve over the past few days has only served to heighten my anticipation and whet my appetite.

I didn't really get a chance to have my usual quiet time yesterday; we left for the hike pretty much right after breakfast. The plan was to take some time during the hike to spend some time in the word, but the impending rainclouds kind of pushed that plan to the side. At first I was really disappointed at not getting the time I was hoping for... and then my disappointment turned to satisfaction when I realized that my soul was beginning to desire the Word enough that when I didn't get it, I was disappointed. It's a marker of my soul being drawn inexorably towards God and beginning to learn to crave Him... and after all, that's what I want more than anything. My meter-reading experience of the past year has helped teach me, too, that even when I'm just walking around, I can try and redeem the time by spending it in prayer. Usually I try and lean on something like the Jesus prayer, letting it match my breathing so that it almost becomes part of me... even if I can't focus me every thought on the Lord, I can at the very least let my lips and my lungs communicate with him, whether I'm hiking around in Norway or walking the streets of Portland.