L-dwag's Reckless Journey

Trusting God

2012-02-13T06:35:00.000-06:00

Two words, that we throw around so quickly to claim our belief in Christ. The words out of my mouth imply I believe this, but my actions scream contrary. My heart desires and yet my flesh is fearful.

To trust anything other than myself seems quite irrational. I cant control others, so why would I trust them? I definitely cant control God so why trust him?

I'm being forced to consider these words again. To really think about what does "trust" mean? And not only what does it mean, but how is it evident in others, but much more importantly in myself? Does my life reflect a life of trusting that which I claim is most important to me, God?

I've trusting people. I've trusted education.

I've trusted money, clothing, and books.

I've trusted a stable economy. I've trusted work.

I've trusted things. I've trusted my plans. I've trusted God.... but it has all still led to pain, and hurt.

But I’m learning how to trust the Lord again. Trust that he loves me. Trust that he cares for me and will protect me, despite the pain I do experience. Trust that he will provide for me, has plans for me, and fights for me. I’m learning to trust in new and exciting ways, and yet trusting isn’t as independent or freeing as you would think. In fact I feel the opposite. In my pursuit to trust the Lord, I’m actually clinging ever so desperately to him. Trusting has required not seeking anything else to hold on to, and tightening my grip on the Lord.

Trusting involves holding on to what I do not know but have chosen to believe in.

Believe that God will provide.

Believe that God is in control.

Believe that God will give me all I ever need and more.

Believe that there is nothing else to trust that will sustain and last... but God.

Webster defines trust as: "reliance on the integrity, strength, ability and surety of a person or thing," and "confident expectation of something, hope."

Yet in this pursuit of "trust" I stumbled upon scripture that sent me down a path least expected.

Paul says in Philippians 1:29: "There's far more to this life than trusting in Christ. There's also suffering for him. And the suffering is as much a gift as the trusting. You're involved in the same kind of struggle you saw me go through."

Wait, aren't we supposed to have "trusting God" figured out before we can move on? The whole thought seemed so directly contrary to what I had just decided. Wasn’t it essential to really understand what was asked of me in "trusting" God before I start suffering too?

Suffering. Isnt that only something you do if you really trust/ believe in a cause?

And so I'm left to realize that as I trust I will probably never "arrive" at a place of complete trusting, but will instead have to choose to trust each and every day to the one who has complete control... even if in his control he allows for suffering. I'm not the first to get to, nor will I be the last.

Trusting God. Two little words that I hope my actions reveal to others how important it is to me. Two little words that can literally change one's life with each step taken. Two little words that I have yet to fully grasp, but for the first time realize with those two words comes the word suffering.

Suffering for things bigger than self. Suffering as a way for God to hold my heart that much closer to him. Suffering as it burns off the unnecessary that at times felt needed. Suffering as I trust in things not seen.

So what are you trusting in?

Being Hacked...

2012-02-06T07:44:00.000-06:00

I probably have a very unhealthy lack of fear when it comes to IT privacy concerns. For all the other things in this world that I am fearful of... and I have plenty, this gets no airtime on my inner dialogue. I've probably not seen the destruction of identity theft, hacking, and viruses enough to have a healthy fear. Instead i flit around with my "weak" passwords, not thinking twice about the potential.

But my little email-IT Utopia world came to a screeching halt this week. Within minutes I receive a text, two calls and a number of emails breaking me the fateful news.

My email had been hacked. And I was sending fraudulent emails out.

No, surely not my email. In the 12 years I've had this email address I've never had this happen. How could someone ever have hacked into my email address? Why would someone want to hack into my email address? What was someone doing hacking into my email address?

My disbelieve quickly turned to horror, shock and then ended in anger. This is not okay. Who do these people think they are? Don't they know better? Not only had I been hacked, but ever person I knew, and had saved their email address in my computer had gotten multiple emails from me as well. Not okay!

The reality set in, but the emails, call and texts didn't stop. And then in a twist of events, I was reminded just how loved I was. So many people wanting to make sure I knew what had happened. Many people I hadn't communicated with in months. People that I'd cared about but life had gotten the best of us both, and our communication had dissolved.

Then it happened, a friend I hadn't talked to in years emailed me to make sure I knew about the spam and then said hi. She'd been praying for me and hoped I was doing well. In a matter of days we swapped a few emails. Like a bone when it breaks and heals, this reconnection was became stronger then when it started.

As furious as I was for having my email hacked, I couldn't deny the good that had come out of it, and I was reminded of the verse "And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them." Romans 8:28.

Without having to think very hard I quickly saw such great things come from something so frustrating and annoying. I was encouraged by the people God had placed in my life. People who took the time to let me know they thought I was hacked. People who used this opportunity to reconnect. I was reminded of the richness of these people in my life.

God used a moment of discouragement to bring me great encouragement.

How I wish I was quicker to see these moments in the harder things in life. How I wish I was quicker to recognize that God really does work all things together for good.

Taking a Bite of Apple

2012-01-30T23:09:00.000-06:00

I’ve done this before. Get excited about something and then convince others to do it before me. The first time I really remember doing this was when I started telling friends with long hair to cut it and donate to Locks of Love. I’d never done it. I didn’t even have any intention to grow my hair long enough to do it. But, they had long hair, so why not convince them to use their hair for a greater cause? Over the course of a few years I got over 10 people to do it. Finally, feeling ever the hypocrite I decided to commit to growing my hair out for the same reason. Almost 2 years later I was finally able to cut my hair to donate it and join the throng of friends I’d recruited.

This is no different. I’d eyed the product. Asked the questions. Weighed the costs of owning it. Considered it for the future, but in the mean time told others about it. The beautiful silver case. The large white icon. The Apple computer.

After convincing others to at least consider it when shopping for computers, I finally took the bite. One Saturday morning I pressed “on” my computer and I got the screen. The screen that tells you, oh ough something isn’t right. The screen that wont go away no matter how many times you restart the computer. The screen that requires change.

And then I sat there and knew the time had come to drink the kool-aid, join the tribe, and actually buy into the hype.

I grabbed one of my friends, Roseana, whom I had convinced to join the tribe ahead of me and made her come with me for moral support. There I stood, ready to make the jump, yet wondering if this really was a good idea. It’s a whole new world, this apple world. Was I ready?

Uncertainty started to creep in when one of the super helpful Apple men came over and started showing me all the super cool shortcut moves one can do on the mouse pad. How was I going to remember this? How was I going to figure this out? Was I in over my head?

Now a little bit into it, I can say I’m a proud Apple owner. I still have no idea what I’m doing, but I love it. I love how all I have to do is flip open the computer and it magically opens. No startup. No waiting. No pressing On. It just is.

I love how I find myself trying to use the various Apple shortcuts on my work computer, cause I’ve found them so helpful.

I love how it uploads my pictures and lets me play with them.

I love the sleek design.

I love it.

I took a bite of Apple and I’m wondering if I will ever go back.

Number Five

2012-01-23T09:13:00.000-06:00

It started just two years ago. Actually, it was almost exactly two years ago this whole thing started. I woke up, had a little cough, counted ten days till departure and headed to work. Ten days till I was supposed to embark on my big adventure to India. The country had never been on my bucket list or something I even considered as a place I wanted to go. But in a strange series of events, India was my destination. Until I got sick and this little trip that I kinda wanted to go on was now looking impossible. Pneumonia took me down for two weeks. Two weeks I laid in my bed and begged that the Lord would not only heal my body but allow for there to be a way that I could still go to India. He did. Not in the ways I had planned on, but in His infinitely greater ways.

As you know I did get to go to India, but it wouldn’t be just about a trip to India. This would be the beginning of a crazy goal I placed myself to see all seven wonder of the world. In two years I’ve gotten the great privileged to travel with some amazing friends and see four of them. That’s a lot of travel! Each one has marked a place in my life and has taught me something about myself.

And now… now I’ve just booked my next adventure to China. Great Wall here I come. It might seem like a no-brainer, but the decision to go on this trip actually ended up being much more challenging then I expected. As in all travel plans many voice their desires to join, but few are able to put their money where their mouth is. I get it. It’s a big commitment.

So as with most trips the list of potential travel buddies started to dwindle. Dwindle all the way down to three people… me being one of them. And then the unthinkable happened, I had to consider the very real possibility that I might not be able to go on this trip after all. No seriously. I know I had initiated it, but as with life, things happen, circumstances change, and approvals from work suddenly become harder to get.

As the other two considered moving dates of travel we all came to the very real place that the dates couldn’t move and I might not get to go. Not go? But this is China! I have to go. I must go. I need to go.

Need. Okay, maybe not need, but really really REALLY want to go.

And then I was faced with the reminder that each one of these trips is a privilege. It’s not a need. It’s not even a must. It’s a great want, that is only worth anything if that is what God desires. I had to recognize the harsh grip I was placing on this trip and lay it before the Lord.

Two years ago came rushing back to my mind. India was impossible, unless the Lord was going to allow for it. Italy, Mexico and Peru were continual examples of God’s provision and guidance. Each trip has been a lesson of God’s provision, goodness, greatness and majesty. But just because I had made this crazy goal to go see all seven wonders of the world, didn’t mean God had given me this goal.

And I was faced again with the question, “if this isn't what God wants for me, do I trust him to let go of it?” Do you know how easy it is to say yes to that question two years later after you see how God uses His plans to brings things together and not your plans? Very easy. But in the moment. When you feel your human nature flying to the surface screaming reasons of justification, rationalization and seemingly sound reason, God’s potential “other” way doesn’t seem so great.

And that is what I was faced with. I was faced with a stubborn heart that wanted to run forward as fast as I could before being told to stop and take a breather. Instead everything came to a screeching halt as I was faced with the possibility that I might not get the okay from work that I had been expecting this whole time. In this moment I had to stop and recognize no matter what the decision was on that end, I had to make sure I was really laying this down before the Lord and getting God’s guidance.

I came to a place where I was ready to walk away. I knew my friends would need to go without me, and I understood. There would be another day. There would be another trip. And ultimately if God didn’t have it in his plans for me to make it to China, it would be okay.

But the story goes that I got the approval, I re-reviewed this decision with my biblical community for their wisdom, and I found myself in an unexpected place of getting to move forward with these plans again. Finally came the click to purchase and it was done.

The reality of the fact that I get to go to China in a little less then four month has yet to really sink in. I get to go. I don’t have to go… but I get to. This trip isn't about me, but about getting to experience more of who God is. Checking off another wonder of the world is a sheer bonus.

And as we all know, a lot can happen between now and May. But Lord willing, come May I’m going to the Great Wall!

“Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.” James 3:13-15

The Final Straw

2012-01-09T06:24:00.000-06:00

I did make it home. Sounds simple enough, but the sentence has a lot of space between those words. And in that space is one of the best stories of the whole trip.

As with all stories, the beginning seems fairly unassuming. It all started with our flight travel back from Prague to Dallas. While walking around the Prague airport I counted out the remaining coins of change I had, and considered my last purchase. There in the midst of it all the stores I found the perfect last souvenir… shampoo and conditioner. I know, it seems odd enough, except for this was no ordinary shampoo and conditioner, this was special Czech shampoo and conditioner made with beer.

As I bought it the duty free lady wrapped up the bottles in a super special red and clear bag that said in big black words Do Not Open Seal. It then clearly showed the receipt and was packaged so I could take it through security. I was set.

Then the avalanche of travel woes started as our first flight was delayed by 2 hours. I gave little more thought to my purchase as Catherine and I worked through the labyrinth of delayed flights, reroutings, long lines, vouchers, stand-by flights, and lost baggage. We found ourselves at the ticket counter in Boston around 11 at night trying to find some shuteye before they would open up to give us our boarding pass.

At 3:30 in the morning Catherine and I got in line, got our boarding passes and headed to the TSA security. Through the security we went, when suddenly I was pulled aside, and out came the shampoo and conditioner. Ugh oh. The grandpa TSA man came over to me and started to tell me I would not be able to take the shampoo and conditioner on with me. Wait… what?

I stood there for a minute and thought surely he would change his mind once he saw the sealed bag these fluids were in. He didn't. I just knew though once I explained how the bag got here and had already been through security in Prague and London he would reconsider. He didn't.

And then it started. The water works!

The final straw had broken and the toll of little to no sleep, while traveling for much longer then expected took it's toll. I was left standing there almost as surprised by the tears as the grandpa TSA man.

Catherine had already gone through security and they wouldn't let her back in, so to my left she stood on the other side of the plexiglass mouthing the words "oh honey, I'm so sorry," while helplessly watching me cry.

Not ready to give up and horrified at my tears, I stood there blubbering through the tears the rest of my story. Fighting to keep my shampoo and conditioner. The TSA man then offered to get his supervisor which I quickly agreed to. Upon looking up past this grandpa I assessed my surroundings and realized all 20 TSA security men were all turned around and starting at me as I continued to wipe away the tears and call upon unknown skills to will myself to stop crying. I had become the primary focus, but then at 4 am in the morning there wasn't a whole lot of competition.

Within 5 seconds I met the fate of this supervisor as he pronounced his verdict. "Ma'am, this is over 3 fluid ounces, we are going to have to throw it away."

"No, you don't understand. I wasn't even supposed to be in Boston. There was nothing I could do. I don't even have a bag. I couldn't even check it into my bag. What was I supposed to do?"

As I was met with silence and then a repeat of his previous verdict that slimmer of hope was slammed shut. Now I was just ready to get out of there. I was tired of still crying. I was tired of all the TSA men staring at me helplessly. I was tired of everything going wrong. I was just plain tired, and all I wanted was to keep my shampoo and conditioner.

As I begged the grandpa TSA man to just give me the rest of my things he was holding hostage so I could escape this looking glass, he continued to look at me forlorn and befuddled. He stammered and wondered and finally said, he could go over his supervisor's boss to the big boss, if I wanted him to.

Yes.

I had nothing to loose. I was tired of crying, and I just wanted this bad dream to end.

They summoned the big wig, and he finally made his way over. As he saw me crying, he walked over and asked me immediately if I was alright. Technically I was fine. I had all my limbs. I had been fed. I was under shelter. I was fine.... but I wasn't. In fact I felt far from fine, and in between the sniffles and the wiping away of my tears I quickly relayed the series of events that had gotten me there with little sleep and the distinct possibility of loosing my shampoo and conditioner.

And then in a moment of grace and pity he looked at me and spoke in a hushed tone. "Go ahead and test the products, but if they come back clean, just go ahead and take them." Wait... what did he just say?

He said to take them!

Did my ears hear what I had been fighting for but didn't dare believe could happen? I looked over to Catherine through the plexiglass and offered a weak smile. The end was in sight.

As the bottles of haircare product were tested and returned to me, I stood there dumbfounded that somehow someone had found compassion and grace for me, especially at 4 in the morning. I knew the rules. I even understood them. But, somehow they had managed to access the situation and be merciful.

I walked away dumbfounded that they had changed their stance and given me back my shampoo and conditioner. Granted, it was just a few bottles of product, but to me these bottles are now the most amazing shampoo and conditioner ever, as because of what they had to go through.

I know rules are there for our protection, but they are also at times meant to be bent. I feel ever so grateful for the kindness offered in that moment. It made a terrible, no good, very bad time turn into a great story.

Plans Change...

2012-01-03T23:09:00.000-06:00

Coming to the end of our trip Anna, Catherine and I headed out for our last big day in Prague. This included climbing a few towers around Prague, strolled through the Jewish quarters, enjoyed a French dinner, stopping at a brewery, finding an underground labyrinth of a bar, and visiting an authentic tea house. By the end of our time in Prague I can honestly say I feel like I’ve really seen the city and was ready to go home and sleep in my own bed.

I was ready, but apparently God had other plans.

Catherine and I were pros in getting ourselves through the Prague public transportation and to the airport even a little early. We checked in and asked to be seated next to one another. Our bags were not too heavy. We counted out our last few Czech crowns and contemplated our final purchases in the airport shops. We were ready to go, and now just needed to wait in our terminal for the specific gate.

And we waited…. And waited… and waited. Then we heard the announcement. Our flight was being delayed. How long, we didn’t know. Then we heard a second announcement telling us to come get food vouchers. Ugh oh, this wasn’t sounding so good.

We grabbed our bags, traipsed downstairs into a line and waited. See we only had an hour in London to catch our other flight, so this wasn’t looking so promising. When we get to the counter we were reassured that all flights were delayed in London due to… are you ready….. wind!

So with these words of comfort and some food vouchers we headed out to see what we could find to eat. After taking a good look around the cafeteria we opted for a wide assortment of things… and Catherine wins the award for using every single cent of her voucher and not going a penny over. Impressive for sure!

And then we waited some more… and some more… until we were finally given our gate. When we finally took off from Prague we were over 2.5 hours late. Yet despite the bleakness of the situation Catherine kept great spirits, reminding me our flight was probably waiting for us.

Once landed Catherine and I went running, a little Amazing Race of us, but still. Down one hall, through another, on two escalators, past another group, past flight assignments where our flight was no longer listed, and around a corner we came upon a mess. No other word for it. A huge blubbering mess!

Simply due to the fact that American Airline’s line was shorter then British Airways we headed for AA first. In line we went, and soon came to understand things were not looking so good. We had about 15 people in front of us, but had managed to get in front of a good 40-50 people. And then we waited… and waited… and waited some more. I timed it and we waited for over an hour before we were able to talk to someone. At that point we’d already made travel friends with two people ahead of us trying to get to Dallas, and I watched them stand at the counter each for over 20 minutes. Their verdict of the situation was not promising… both were on standby flights, and their chances of getting out today were bleak.

By the time we got to the desk, the AA lady looked at us, and said we would not be leaving today and would need to talk with British Airways about a hotel voucher. I headed for the ridiculously long line, while Catherine worked to see what flights we could get booked on. Did I mention how huge a blessing it was to have someone with me to help divvy responsibilities and figure it out? Thank goodness for Catherine.

So, off to the other line I stood and waited and waited and after 20 minutes, I had the people save my place in line and headed to Catherine to see what had been determined. This is where I know the Lord was gracious. While Catherine had been standing here being helped by a lady, after about 10 minutes she just left as her shift was over. Never mind that she didn’t get anything resolved for us and clearly had no interest in helping. Thankfully though the lady that replaced her was fresh and ended up coming up with a great option… putting us on standby for a flight to Boston. We had a much better chance this way then any other flight and our second leg (Boston to DFW) had been confirmed.

With just less then one hour before we had to go to our gate, I rejoiced at not needing to stand in the other line any longer and we headed to find food. Guess what? We found this fabulously fun sushi place. For all the craziness, it was just what I needed.

Next we headed to our gate and prayed we would somehow get on this flight…. And guess what? We did. Not only did we get on, but we also got exit row seats so I got a bit more leg room.

We made it… or at least a little farther!

Once in Boston we headed through immigration and customs when we came to realize a new reality…. Our bags hadnt made it. The disorganized mess that ensued still has be mystified that airlines are even still in business. No one would do anything, or they would only do “their job” and were completely unhelpful. It wasn’t till we had been standing there, and filled out a form that I overhead personnel say something and we determined that we in fact did not have to complete a bag claim till we got to Dallas. We were two of 6-7 other people in the exact same predicament.

Next came the fact that our next flight was not till 6am the next morning, so Catherine and I then tried to see about getting boarding passes so we could at least get to our terminal and sleep there. Augh, but this is Boston and nothing is simple. Not only were they unable to print passes, all ticket counters were closed. All they could do was send us to the right terminal, and to do that meant having to go outside to wait for a bus in below freezing weather without our winter coats that happened to be in our checked bags, because who needs a winter coat in Dallas when it’s 60 degrees?

We made it… we made it to our terminal, outside at the ticket counter, and the adventure now continues. I’m trying to decide the best method of sleeping on a random, and we are waiting for the 2am ticket counter opening so we can get into the gate portion. The adventure is far from over, and I’m still ready for my bed, but without a doubt I know it could be worse and I’m grateful for such a good sport as Catherine to look at the silver lining of our travel misfortunes.

Home sweet home you can not come fast enough!

The End and the Beginning

2012-01-02T12:02:00.000-06:00

As I walked around the streets on this last day of the year 2011, I couldn’t help but remember where I had been just one year ago…. Walking the streets of Rome. How ridiculously fortunate I have been. Not just to get to celebrate an international holiday around the world, twice… but for all the experiences in between. 2011 was a year of travel beyond my wildest dreams, and a year of blessed and deepened friendships, and a year of provision both spiritually, physically and emotionally.

Last year while sitting on the Spanish Steps and talking about goals for this year the one thing I vocalized was a desire to focus on my writing. Sadly I failed miserably. But, I am reminded again, that this is another year, and I can try again.

All this reminiscing though is taking me away from the real goal of this blog… to tell you about my last day of the year. Catherine, Anna, my mom and I headed out to see the Eiffel Tower. Okay, maybe not the Eiffel Tower in Paris, but Prague does have it’s own replica just a fourth the size. This tower sits on the top of a hill behind Prague castle and you get a beautiful view of the city and beyond. We headed out early and got to take a few more types of transportation, including the tram, and this special hill tram. Once there we climbed, and climbed, and climbed some more… and then took in the beauty. We happened to plan this trip a number of days ago, and couldn’t have picked a better day. It was our one truly blue sky day.

After we headed over to a little mirror museum where we laughed ourselves silly. In front of some mirrors we were short, some we were fat, some we had super long legs….even longer then we already have.

Once done, we separated ways from my mother and headed out to view the Prague Castle and everything surrounding it. We traipsed across the hillside and in a surprise came upon a beautiful break in the midst of the trees to see a new view of the city.

After our long walk we went in search of a Rick Steve’s restaurant recommendation Bound and determined to find it we ended up asking directions about two or three times before we happened upon it…an old monastery brewery. The only problem, there was no room for us to sit inside, but don’t think that stopped us. We sat outside huddled in our big coats, and gloves drinking beer. How Czech of us, right?

When we ordered the beer cheese, the waiter asked us if we knew what we were ordering, and did we know it was very stinky? Stinky? Great! Even better! And yes, the cheese was quite stinky, but it still was delicious.

Finally, with food in our tummies, we headed on down the hill, through the streets until we came upon the castle. In our guidebook it claimed to be the biggest castle in all of Europe. Through the various corridors we went and then into St. Vitas, the beautiful cathedral with a famous stain glass designed by Mucha.

Knowing we had a loooooong night ahead we headed home for a late afternoon nap. Then we got all gussied up and headed out for our New Year’s Eve bash. We were invited by our friend, Jane, to party where she got us free tickets. Off through the metro we went to meet her, and then through the streets to the club. We had our own table reserved, and had a pluthera of food to chow own on. Next came the people-watching, and it did not disappoint. Finally we looked over to the bar and saw this massive drink with straws that seemed to go up to the ceiling. And then the drink started moving towards us, and arrived at our table. What was going on? Jane had ordered us the biggest drink I have ever seen!

After cutting up a rug on the dance floor, we bundled back up 30 minutes before new years, and headed outside to the river. It would be here we would huddle up, open a bottle of champagne and watch an epic firework show over Charles Bridge. Stunning. I’m afraid our pictures simply don’t do justice.

And then…. We ran for the metro to get home before the transportation system of Prague closed down at one in the morning. I’ve been in tight spots. I’ve had to jump out of a train because of a tight spot, but even this beat the experience. When the metro pulled up and the doors opened it didn’t look like there was anymore room for any of us. That didn’t stop me. In we pushed, as did another twenty people. We were so tightly packed in I couldn’t resist trying to squeeze a picture out from the top of my breathing space.

But New Year’s Eve was not over… at 7 am that morning we were woken up by Skype from Benson, and got to join the countdown of many of our dear friends in Dallas at their house party. Two New Year’s Eve parties in one night… that is even a first for me!

We Made It!

2011-12-31T09:51:00.000-06:00

Three little words, but for whatever reason have quickly become the anthem of our trip. Unintentionally, Catherine and I would say this whenever we arrived somewhere, or accomplished something. Anna was quick to point this out consistent usage of these three words, but can you blame us? When in a foreign country everything is a major accomplishment. Knowing what you want to do next. Getting there in one piece. Even understanding what people are trying to communicate to you in a foreign language.

Our first full day in Prague was no exception of multiple “We Made It” moments.
1. We had to buy our 3 day metro tickets. Seems simple enough, except the metro counter had a big sign that said “no change.” Okay, we can get through that hurdle too. Once we had determined how much it was going to cost, I spoke through the window to the metro man and asked for 3 tickets. He just shook his head and said in a heavy Czech accent, “no,” “cigarettes,” and then proceeded to point down. Right. Got it. I know exactly what you are saying…. Not! But in a feeble attempt to follow what he said, we walked out of the metro to the adjoining mall, headed down one floor, and low and behold I saw a tobacco shop. Feeling a little more confident about this scavenger hunt, we walked in and I asked for three tickets. You want to know the crazy thing? She knew exactly what I was saying and was able to give us exactly what we needed! We Made It!

2. Finding the Mucha Museum. The goal was to do this with little confusion, misdirection, and quickness. I must admit, I even shocked myself with how quickly we were able to orient ourselves through the metro, get off at the right stop and navigate the streets of Prague. In no time we were standing in front of the museum, ready for this next experience (which was beautiful and educational). We Made It!

3. Climbing the Powder Tower. One of the coolest little gifts we have gotten was free tickets to get to go to the top of these nine various towers all across Prague. This was our first one. It is an extremely old tower that we climbed up and up and up and up. At one point I was getting dizzy because of how tiny and tight the stairwell was. There were three different floors and each one had unique artifacts. The one that made me laugh the most was all these various medieval swords and such, but halfway through we realized that most of the stuff we saw were actually just props from movies. My favorite moment was when one of the guards came over to talk to us and asked us if we knew anything about “smithing.” I’m sorry, but do these three city girls look like we know anything about smithing? I think not. Finally we headed up the last windy staircase and were able to say… We Made It!

4. Lunch. The night before we had tried to go to this recommended restaurant for drinks, but when we came in the waiter promptly told us that this was time for eating, we could not stay. A day later we were bound and determined to try again and visit this quant restaurant. Our tummies were a grumbling and when we walked in we were quickly ushered out due to no reservations. Clearly we did not make it! So, we continued down the little street when we stumbled upon Giovanni’s Pizzaria. It was divine. We ended up ordering a yummy pizza and pasta plate to share. Yes, it’s true… We Made It!

5. Astronomical Clock Tower. Not only did we want to see it in daylight, but we also wanted to see it chime on the hour. True to all the hype, it was a beautiful experience to see the clock mark the top of the hour. Then we were headed back up to the top of this tower. Once again we found ourselves on quite the scavenger hunt. First to one door we went to show our tickets. Then we were handed a tiny white piece of paper with directions to the other entrance. Down two glass doors and in, to only go up three floors. Across and behind, to finally get to the tower and start our long walk up. The view at the top was spectacular. You could see all across Prague, and most of the famous monuments sticking up. We really had Made It!

6. Meeting up with friend and family. Sounds simple enough, until you consider the fact none of us have functioning phones and random email access. My mother was coming to meet us in Prague, and we were also scheduled to meet up with a Czech friend, Jane (Hanna and George’s daughter). Through a labyrinth of wifi access in random buildings, and emails we were able to meet up with my mom at the apartment, only to turn around immediately to meet up with Jane at another metro stop. But ultimately…We Made It! We had an amazing evening getting to know Jane and her friend Tereza as they showed us around parts of Prague, including one of their favorite restaurants, Atmosphere. By a small miracle we somehow were able to find a place to have all six of us sit down for a massively wonderful dinner. We got to try a new Czech beer, and eat a pound of potatoes. Okay, it might not have been a pound, but we did find ourselves staring down four massive bowls of slivered/sliced potatoes that were divine with the multiple dipping sauces included. By the end of the night we all needed to be rolled down the street because of all we ate.

Ultimately it was a fabulous day, and guess what?

We Made It!

Headed to Prague

2011-12-30T15:52:00.000-06:00

I’m struggling to keep up with all we have experienced in the last 48 hours. So many tights, sounds, walks, foods, people, and despite the cold, rain or clouds it’s been amazing.

Yesterday was our last day in Turnov and we decided to take the morning to walk the streets of this little 15,000 person place. I mean how lost can you really get? We headed out with the intention of finding… but what else…. pastries and cappuccinos. My mom wrote down the word we were looking for and we headed out to the town square to see what we could find. Through the little streets to walked, window shopped, and took pictures. One little store looked from far away like it might have pastries, but as we climbed the stairs, we came to realize it was actually a fancy women’s clothing store. Finally out of desperation for some much needed caffeine Catherine asked the lady, “cappuccino?” Thankfully the lady’s eyes lit up with recognition and walked us out of the store and pointed directly across the street to a store. This was exactly what we were looking for!

As always we chowed down on some fabulous sweets, some delicious cappuccinos, and then headed back out on the town. We ended up coming upon a graveyard of a beautiful church and decided to take a turn in it. It might seem a little morbid but I really loved this experience. Every gravesite was different, some recent, some old, some large, some small, some tall, some short. Just to soak in how close death is, the little time we do have on this earth, and the abundance of life I have and continue to experience.

Finally we headed home and arrived at a feast, our last meal Turnov. My mother had made some amazing food, including fondue, and brussel sprouts from Pavel’s garden. We dinned like queens and then I had to say good bye to my pops as this would be the last time I would see him before heading home. And then we were off to the town of Prague.

Once we arrived at the little flat we were staying at, we quickly got settled in and before you knew it we were heading out to see Prague. I had a wonderful time getting to show them all around the little pieces I’d seen earlier with my parents, and meandering the streets. After tasty deliciousness from the Christmas market, we headed beyond and found a cute little pub where we enjoyed a great glass of wine as we cheered on first of many more days in the city.

Those Moments

2011-12-30T01:44:00.000-06:00

Sometimes when I sit down to write, I get a little overwhelmed by all I have experienced and want to share. I get overwhelmed by how beautiful some of the experiences are and how my words seem to fall so short from capturing these picture moments. I get overwhelmed by my fortune in getting to experience so much. Last night’s dinner was no different.

It wasn’t that the meal was amazing, or that we met someone famous, but rather the opportunity to know someone in this world from such a different place in life. Pavel, an older Czech man, had extended an invitation for dinner at his house to my family and guests. We arrived and were immediately served delicious fruit tea, and chocolate cake. Two thumbs up for serving dessert before dinner. Then he brought out fabulous little sandwiches, some with meat, and some with fruit. Though they seemed a little odd, they tasted great. But this evening wasn’t about the food. It was about Catherine and Anna getting to meet Pavel.

He shared with us about parts of his life before communism, where he was when communism fell, his political feeling about the present, and his deep love for a quiet tranquil life of his town. There was no desire to life in the big city (Prague), but rather a distain for that life. There was a hospitality that warms your heart, and overwhelms you as he sent us away with a bag full of various gifts, including a big bag of brussel sprouts from his garden. Now for some that does not sound like a real gift, but straight from Catherine’s mouth she said “these are some of the best brussel sprouts I’ve ever had.”

After dinner he taught us a Czech game, and after that we played a Vogelaar card game. By the end of the evening we had gained a new friend, a deeper insight into this man, and a genuine appreciation for the beautiful Czech spirit of these people.

Adventures Around Czech Bohemia

2011-12-28T16:43:00.000-06:00

Phew… what a day. A fantastically, amazing and epic day… not just any day. Catherine and Anna got their first night of sleep and then we were off to go see the sights and the sounds. All five of us (my parents, Anna, Catherina and myself), pilled into our car and headed out into Czech Bohemian Paradise.

First stop was our first and only castle visit. Within a 30 minute drive of this town there are over 15 castles one can visit. But as I have learned quickly, once you have seen one castle, you’ve practically seen them all. So, to spare us all the sanity we were going to see one Czech castle and cross it off our list. Rhuba skala has not only a castle but some beautiful rock formations. We went walking through the forest, and with the heavy fog it felt like we were in a fairytale. Catherine said she felt like we were in the movie “Princess Bride.” Beautiful red leaves and green moss covered the earth, while massive rocks shot up from the earth.

Once having completed our little forest walk we headed back up to walk the castle grounds. Though there was fog all around, you could still see some of the landscape around the castle.

Then stop we headed to Jicin, one of many Czech towns, but this one is special in that it is considered the capital of fairytales. Once parked we walked and came upon a beautiful town square, only to head directly for the pastry shop. Once inside we picked out our choices and then huddled at a little table sipping cappuccinos and eating pastries. This is why I love Europe. It can be 10 in the morning, but it is never too early to eat dessert.

Once our stomachs were satisfied we wandered the stores and streets of this beautiful little village and got some excellent shopping accomplished. With prices in these little towns being much less then in Prague we are getting many of our little gifts purchased for friends and families. Having fully explored every nook and cranny we packed back into our car and headed out of town to our next stop.

But before getting to the next little town we stopped at a grocery store to for random snacks and shopping. Low and behold we got our souvenir bottles of Becherovka on sale, as well as some yummy bread and what else, but cheese of course!

Off we drove for an hour across beautiful Czech landscapes to our next town and destination Jhablonence.. It was here that we met up with some of my parents friends, Hannah and George. George works for the large crystal company, Preciosa, in Czech Republic, and he had offered to take us to a large showroom with many of their things. Heck ya. So, off we went, and my oh my did we see a lot of things. Sparkles going on for miles and miles.

And all of that was before 3pm.

Next we walked round the many various town squares and finally ended up at a little pizza place owned by the son of Pavel, the Czech man who had invited us for dinner that night at his house. The pizza was great… no wait… it was belisimo, and delicious. We devoured it with a great can of Czech beer.

Finally after a long day we headed home for a little rest before our dinner with our Czech friend Pavel. You will have to wait till tomorrow to hear about that though.

Friendly Arrivals!

2011-12-27T13:09:00.000-06:00

They are here!! They're here... they're here!!! Who you might ask? Anna and Catherine of course!

I knew they were coming, but the anticipation of them arriving kept growing and growing as the list of things we were going to do together did too. But before going to the airport to pick them up, we stopped by some missionary friends in Prague. I remember them from 15 years ago and it was so great to get to see them again. Some things never change even years down the road friendships pick up right where they left off. The same was true getting to see the Gregory family. Then right on time we headed to the airport to pick up our guests.

I was so excited to get there and wanted to make sure they didn’t have to wait at the airport. We ran in and looked around but I didn’t see them. Then I waited… and waited… and waited… and then I started to worry. Lots of people came out of the baggage area, but no Catherine and no Anna. As I kept waiting I started to wondering if my assumption of when their flight was going to arrive was wrong. Had I somehow managed to never actually confirm what time their flight was arriving? Yes… yes I had. I had just assumed they were coming in on the exact same flight as me. For being a fairly type-A person I was finding myself in a very type-B moment.

I happen to have my iPod touch and checked for email access to see if I could find their flight information. As I started to search… low and behold I see Anna’s exhausted face… but it was Anna’s face! And then I saw Catherine’s face. I was so glad to see them. Immediately we got to hug and start to catch up. It seems weird that it has only been a week or so since I saw them, but it feels like so much longer.

Once we picked them up, we headed out of town and back to Turnov, our little village. Along the way we talked through many options for travel that we have, and made a quick stop in the town center to start their shopping. There is a small garnet store there and Anna, being awesome, made some shopping decisions in a few minutes. If only everyone shopped like that!

Once we arrived home, I held my breath as we brought them to the little apartment. I was not going to blame them if they ran out screaming… simply because of how tiny our home was, but they were great sports and had nothing but great things to say about our little abode.

Next came a Christmas present my mom had left for us under the tree, and then some good dinner, showers and a random Czech fairly tale with English subtitles. It would be in the middle of this riveting 1960s movie they started to fall asleep and we headed to bed in our new bedroom/living room/dinning room. Tomorrow we start the travel escapades with a full docket.

Santa came a little late to bring Xmas to Czech for Anna and Catherine.

First meal in Czech - cheese, meat and bread!

PS Did I mention how excited I am to have Anna and Catherine here?

Czech Time

2011-12-25T15:41:00.000-06:00

If there is one thing I’ve learned about the Czech people in the last few days, it’s that plans and actuality never are close together. Already there have been numerous times where my mom understands one thing, and we come to experience something else quite different….not bad, just different.

So stay true to the Czech people, Christmas Eve did not disappoint.

Plan: To walk by Pavel’s home (the old Czech man who made the fruit alcohol dessert) to pick him up at 9pm, so we can walk up to the village church and get there early to grab a seat for the 10pm mass.

Actual Happenings: Staying true to the plan, my parents and I bundled up, and walked over to Pavel’s arriving right at 9pm, ready to go. When we got to the house, we were ushered into his living room where we would be seated at their special Christmas Eve dinner ad sit at the table with Pavel’s mother, wife, and adult son. We definitely were crashing a party.

But again true to the Czech spirit, we were showered with food and drink. Having already eaten a ton… no really, a literal ton of food. We were all stuffed but didn’t want to seem ungracious, so I took one for the team and tried the mushroom egg cheese concoction. It was good, but I was just very full.

Next they brought out the remaining three courses: desserts, nuts (hazelnuts from their garden), and fruit. Talk about a lot of food.

Then at about 9:45pm we were ushered back in the hallway to bundle back up and head to church. At this point I’ve prepared for the church to be packed since we are heading up so much later, but imagine my surprise when I got there and the church was only 25% full. It was a small village Catholic church, and as for Pavel being Catholic means going to church twice a year, barely did it mean that much to anyone else in the village.

The Catholic Mass was quite an experience in of itself. No one removed their coats as there was no heating in the church, and as I sat in the pew I realized just how cold it really was. It was so cold that I started to make shapes out of the cold puffs of air I was breathing from my mouth. Okay, maybe not actual shapes, but you get the idea. I could clearly see my breath. Between this form of entertainment and keeping up with the congregation as we moved through various standings, sittings, prayings, and kneelings, I was far from bored… never mind I had no idea what was being said. But in all seriousness my heart broke through this experience. Here was a village that had grown up learning about such a dead, dull, removed, and old God. No wonder no one was there.

Once done with Mass, we trekked back to Pavel’s home to drop him off and head home. But wait, apparently that wasn’t the plan after all. They quickly ushered us back into their home and we were then informed that we would be opening Christmas gifts with the family. We had no idea!!

By this point it was well past eleven and my parents were way past their bedtimes. Before gift opening could even start, we were offered more tea, more treats, and a Christmas tea with rum. Always up for trying anything, I agreed to try this drink, and was pleasantly surprised. It however did not help with my sleepiness. Thinking presents were about to start, instead Vendra (Pavel’s son) started to serenade us with guitar music. We would come to find out he was playing some Metallica music. Just the sounds to put you in the Christmas cheer, no?

Finally, the presents came out. And more presents... and more presents. And every time I thought we were done with gifts and could excuse ourselves to head home even more presents would come out. It was truly delightful though to get to experience such a kind family sharing with us the Czech Christmas traditions. We could not leave without lots of hugs and thank yous for amazing evening.

Not exactly what we had planned… but way better!

Prague Meandering

2011-12-24T11:30:00.000-06:00

With the death of the former Czech president lots of things have looked a little different then expected. That included getting to watch his funeral in the Prague Castle on TV. But with his funeral also comes stores closing down as people go to watch the funeral on the big jumbotrons. But despite that we decided to go into Prague that late afternoon and see what we could find. It ended up being the perfect time to do this as school was officially out and most people had since headed out of town after the funeral.

Park and Ride exists outside of the US as well. We drove to the outskirts of Prague, parked and then took a metro into the heart of town. It was so easy, fast, and simple. I absolutely loved it. And the weather was shocking amazing. It was clear, no rain, no fog, and not as cold as it had been over the last few days. I think it was a hot 40 degrees.

Once off the metro we walked up to find a wonderland of Prague. Old buildings, bridges, and rivers. Okay, the river probably is technically not old, but then it also has probably been there before any of the buildings ever appeared.

Just chillin' in Prague...

As we wandered through the city we could see the beautiful Prague castle on the hill, the stunning old Charles Bridge and the other numerous buildings everywhere I looked. Don’t worry Anna and Catherine, I just took a prelook for before you come, but I look forward to looking at everything again.

Then we took a turn down the lane to the largest Christmas Market in the country. It was stunning. I don’t know what was more stunning, the vast amounts of booths with delectable food, or the lights making everything look beautiful or the delicious warm wine everywhere.

Chowing down on a yummy bratwurst.

Making yummy Czech desserts.

Lastly, we made a stop at Freedom Square, which is famous for the where the Velvet Revolution started in Czech that brought communism down. It was this revolution that would eventually bring the first “free” president to power, who died a few days ago. So, in honor of him hundreds of people showed up at this square and placed candles in his memory. It was a touching and beautiful sight to behold for this country. I felt privileged to witness it.

So with that I wish you all a Merry Christmas. May you enjoy these days and be reminded of our great savior’s birth on this earth. I’m headed to a Christmas Eve mass at the Catholic church, bundled up in all my layers as word on the street is the church has no heating.

School Time

2011-12-23T15:06:00.000-06:00

Dinner guests, Kuba and Jana, showed up and I was excited to meet this couple. They had originally invited me to Christmas Eve at their home last year, and due to a little snow storm in London I never got to make it. What fun it was to put a name to a face and get to learn more about them. I especially loved hearing they decided to move to New Zealand for a year on a whim. New Zealand people! Can you imagine? They promised it was everything and more then you would hope for. I definitely will be keeping New Zealand on my bucket list. After a great evening with these new friends we said ciao.

The next morning we were up, packed and on our way to another little town, Semily, where my mother has been teaching English at the local middle school. The road from Turnov to Semily is notoriously dangerous and snowy. This was no exception but it was also extremely beautiful. Somehow that makes it all better.

Once we got to the school I got to meet many of the people I’d heard so many stories of. First tea with the assistant principal, Hannah. Then meeting many of the office workers. Then to each of the different classrooms to meet each of the grades. Each grade had a presentation for my mother, where she walked away with a little blue box. Each blue box had a different necklace or earrings from a local crystal store. By the end of our rounds, my mom could have opened up her own jewelry store. But the thought was so sweet and the children loved my mom. Many hugs, and thank yous and more hugs. I got a full tour of the school including the classroom my mom taught in, as well as the cafeteria.

This class even did a song for us!

But the day was not over… next we were taken out for a thank you lunch to the only good restaurant in the village. And man was it good! I had a delicious pizza with a beer. Don’t go thinking I’m an alcoholic or anything. Everyone was drinking beer, many of them are nonalcoholic, and it’s all cheaper then a coke. Crazy I know!

After quite the packed day we finally headed home after our lengthy lunch, but never fear we made sure to stop by a little shop that my dad claimed had “the world’s best pastries.” Well, with a claim like that I had to try it out. How on earth they found it is beyond me. It sits on this little country road with just this little sign. But it did not disappoint. And after we picked out enough pastries to feed us for the next month, we headed out for me to take a picture with the sign. When we turned around the store owner had come out to give us an extra treat for free. Awesomeness!!!

All in all a packed day that had me exhausted and glad to hunker down at home for a quiet evening.

Winter Wonderland

2011-12-22T13:49:00.000-06:00

I just woke up to a winter wonderland. Over night a fresh new blanket of snow had fallen on the little village of Turnov and I finally feel like it’s officially winter and Christmas. Today was market day in the village so with little ado we bundled up and trekked into center of town. Through the little streets and across a field or two as the snow continued to fall. It really was beautiful.

Once in town the parents showed me all around. First stop was a little pawn shop. We climbed up the stairs and stepped into a tiny room that had a TV on and people were huddled around it. Here I would change my dollars for Czech money, but first we joined the group of people watching the funeral procession on national TV of the former Czech President who had passed away a few days before. Everyone was so solemn and sad. I saw many black flags hanging around the city, as well as a candle memorial in the village centre. After getting some Czech money, we headed out to see more.

Through the little streets we wandered to the market where there was lots of Christmas shopping happening, including many people buying their Christmas main course of carp! It’s what everyone eats for the big Christmas Eve meal, and they sell them fresh, fresh …. No really fresh. Like, they are still alive and swimming in a pool of water fresh, and if you want to you can buy them alive and bring them home to put in your bathtub. Some people opt for the fisher butchering the carp when they buy it, but only some. And no I did not buy one to try and eat. I just couldn’t put my mother through that.

Carp being fished out of water.

Live carp being handed over to customer!

Next up was a local department store that included a portion that sold clothes. This section was called the “dragon store.” All we could figure was that the owner of the clothing store is from Vietnam. As we left the store my mom and I saw this extremely elderly lady, bundled up, with a cane, carrying two large grocery sacks of food, and a large backpack with multiple bottles of water and other supplies. She was moving so slowly my heart just broke and I mentioned that I wished someone could just help her. So, my mom and I walked over and offered to help in extremely broken Czech. Despite the large smile on her face she gave us an emphatic no. Please, please, please can we help? No. I really did hate having to let her go, but no is no is no… no matter what country you are in. Trust me, I was no saint offering to help. If you had seen her, you would have totally done the same thing.

Last but not least was a stop at the bread store. Right! You know how much I love bread, and if you don’t, let me remind you. I love bread. I love, love, love bread. I wouldn’t be opposed to eating fresh bread every day. So, that fact that I’m back in a country with fresh bread… makes me happy in deed.

Then we were off back to the apartment through the snow. It had been falling since we had left earlier that morning and the winter wonderland continued to not disappoint. When it is that beautiful outside I can hardly care how cold it really is!

The rest of the day was tucked back in the warm apartment as we got ready for dinner guests and the next day’s visit to a middle school where my mom has been teaching English during the semester. She had prepared a little flyer that explained the story of the Candy Cane in Czech and then I stapled candy canes to each paper. We then wrapped 50 children bibles for some of my mom’s special students. It definitely brought the feeling of Christmas spirit around. Hard to believe Christmas is just around the corner.

Wrapping 50 children bibles

Preparring candy cane gifts for school.

Dessert Galore...

2011-12-22T00:48:00.000-06:00

What a way to end my first whole day in Czech, but going by a older Czech man’s place for a snackeroo. It was one of those invites that my parents and I had no idea if we should expect a meal or not. We got there at 6pm and then sat there making broken English s mall talk as I tried to determine if there would be food or not. Then came out the tea and come delicious chocolate cake. Well, if he’s feeding us cake then this invite must be for dessert. But about 40 minutes later he excused himself and started to bang some pots in the kitchen. Surely he wasn’t making us dinner after he just fed us dessert? But heck, if that was the case then he’s my kind of guy. Dessert before a meal is always the way to go.

Out he popped from the kitchen after about 15 minutes later with these beautiful check open-faced sandwiches. I couldn’t tell you what was on them, but they looked like pieces of art and tasted pretty good going down. At this point I was stuffed and when we got the chance my mom played the “my daughter has jetlag and is tired” card for us to excuse ourselves. He then surprised us both when he said, “oh no, first I have one more dish for you.” More food? He has got to be kidding me. After hearing more pots and pan banging he came back out to ask me a question… but it was a secret and had to whisper it to me, “Do you drink alcohol?” Why yes, yes I do.

Czech Alcohol

What happened next still has me laughing. He brought out a tray of a beautiful second desserts! Okay, now that is what I’m talking about. But this was no ordinary old Czech man dessert. No, this dessert had a whole new level of kick. He had used two alcohols to make it, and there was no baking out of the alcohol. Each bite was delicious and one bite closer to being so ridiculous full and done. I can honestly say I’ve never eaten a dessert with quite so much punch… and definitely not one with enough alcohol to question one’s ability to walk home. Don’t worry, I didn’t finish it, but I will give it two thumbs up, though I do believe it should be served with a warning.

After finally saying goodbye, my mom and I wandered through the streets with much laughter and good cheer. Can you blame me?

All in all, it was a great evening with some fabulous food and great company as I was educated on the recently passed former president of Czech, the current president and other cultural understandings... including Czech alcohol!

Wandering Around Czech...

2011-12-21T09:27:00.000-06:00

What a day! First day in Czech was nothing short of fabulously Czech. My parents ever wanting to be the perfect hosts and make the most of the beautiful day and the limited hours of daylight here (sun goes down by 4:30), we headed out of town in the morning. I call it my scouting out of all great things Czech for when Catherine and Anna come in a week.

We headed to this little village up the road an hour called, Novy Bor. Famous for its history of glassblowing, so much so there are at least 3 or 4 glass factories and a college to train up others on the art of glassblowing. And boy is it an art. I was “blown” away by the beauty created with heat, melted glass and some powerful lungs. We did a bunch of sightseeing in a few of the little stores and a factory.

After we continued our little walk down the street, and found ourselves eating a lovely Czech lunch at a local restaurant. Never fear we had a beer with lunch, simply because it really was cheaper then water. The beer came in these cool looking glasses, so at the end when Pops tried to ask the waitress if he could buy one of the glasses she was quite confused and then gave a resounding “No… Heck no.” At least that is what I translated from the arm gestures and voice inflections.

Pops enjoying some Czech soup.

Moms chowing down on some Czech meatloaf. This was seriously good!

One of the little stores we had wanted to go to earlier had been closed in true villages style, as it didn’t even open till 1pm, never mind the numerous places that closed from noon to one for lunch. Wonder if I can ever convince my work to adapt to any of those hours?

This last stop was truly amazing. I felt like I had just stepped back into time as I walked into a true artist’s studio. This man from the village learned the arm of glassblowing but then made it his own as he played with adding various minerals to glass and created these pieces of art. He would end up giving me a thorough tour, as well as create some of his masterpieces before me. I’m not going to lie, I went a little crazy with buying gifts there, but all I could keep telling myself was how glad I was that I could support this artist in his craft. A day later I don’t regret it one bit.

Czech artist melting away glass and making beauty!

See... isn't that beautiful?

Humoring me with a picture. Cant you tell he's excited?

After this stop we decided to take a quick little detour to Germany. Heck, why not? It’d right there. We ended up going to a big grocery store across the border, but when going to pay for the food we learned a valuable lesson… apparently they don’t take credit card? Really? In Germany? Yup! Thankfully they had an ATM so we were able to pull cash out and still pay for our food, but for being a world traveler I was shocked that such an established store in such an established country wouldn’t take a credit card. I guess Visa is NOT everywhere you want to be.

On our way home we made one final stop along the road to check out one of a million castles I’d seen long nestled among the hills and villages. From where we parked it looked like a quick straight walk but after following the signs we came to find out it was rather a roundabout long walk up and around and up and around and up and around some more. We finally did make it to the top to a gloriously still picturesque scene of the sun setting behind the hills of Czech, while standing next to a tall little castle from way back when. It really was beautiful despite how out of breath and chilly I was.

As we rode home it was hard to believe all that I’d already experienced in just a few hours of first being here in Czech… and I haven’t even started to tell you about our entertaining evening with a sweet older Czech man who had us over for… well, I guess you’ll just have wait to read about it. I promise it wont disappoint.

Travel Times

2011-12-20T10:47:00.000-06:00

I’ve flown a lot. Took my first flight when I was six months. I’ve acquired a few tricks of the trade when it comes to flying for long distances and taking multiple flights. You’ve got to pace yourself. You’ve got to be ready to entertain yourself. And you have to be prepared for that mild delirium due to lack of sleep and jetlag.

After my flight (I'd like to make a small shoutout to British Airways. They continue to be my abolute faovrite airline. Everything about them is simply that... better! Bless you!) I’ve come to realize another important piece of advice… don’t watch thriller movies like Contagion, where a percentage of the world is dying from an epidemic that is spreading via cough, touch and travel. Don’t do it… trust me, because then ever person who coughs, makes you stop and look at them with concern. Ever time you start to feel warm, you pause and wonder if you are sick and dying from a rare disease. Real life vs. movie. One is not the other. But in the midst of my mild delirium from sheer exhaustion and lack of sleep, that line starts to blur. Real life. Movie. Real life.

Real life was getting to sit next to this young Indian woman and having an in-depth conversation about India, culture, life, and faith. She had an arranged marriage which caused her to marry a man she didn’t know and move from India to America, not knowing any English. Now that is hard. That is strength and that is courage. Now she speaks great English, is two semesters away from being a Pharmacist and loves her husband and home. There is the American dream alive and well. Anything is possible. Anything.

Real life is getting to London at 4 in the morning and having 6 hours to kill. It means finding a comfy bench, curling up and sleeping on my backpack with my sweater over my head. For an airport, it was surprisingly decent sleep. It did feel surreal though when I woke up to a bustling building that looked much more like a mall then an airport… including a Santa Clause. Surreal, but still real, especially when I got to wake up to a yummy cup of Starbucks.

Real life was landing in Prague, and watching every bag roll off the carrousel and realize none of them were mine, and then realizing I really, really, really needed at least one bag, as I had brought two coats with me but I didn’t have either one of them. Ugh oh. You can imagine my relief in finally seeing my bags roll off as I was one of the last five people from my flight praying my bags didn’t get lost.

All in all, real life was much better then the movie I watched. No contagious, epidemic, disease that I know of, and I finally arriving in Prague...even if it was a year late!

Check, Check... and I'm off to the Czech Republic

2011-12-19T11:23:00.000-06:00

It’s here. The day for departure. It snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking and the next thing I know I was telling people I was leaving tomorrow. Tomorrow? Wait, tomorrow is now today! I leave in just a few hours, and I’m not coming back for over two weeks. Two weeks of no work. Two weeks of no real life responsibilities. Two weeks of pressing pause on my life here and getting a chance to reflect on this last year. Two weeks of new experiences in a whole new world.

I’ve been prepping myself for the cold as I keep seeing a high of 35 degrees being posted online. Bought additional layers and then packed every layer I own. Should I mention I even got some legwarmers for the trip? Two pairs at that! Confession, I am in love with these legwarmers, never mind my shout out to the eighties. In case you were wondering, legwarmers are sooo coming back, or at least they are in my little world that I live in. You know you want to join.

But I digress... so, yes, layers. Lots and lots of layers. Sweaters... the warmest sweaters I have... and gloves. Three pairs of gloves. A few scarves, a hat and did I mention my two pairs of legwarmers? So, I think I’m ready. Check, check... Czech!

I’m ready for my flight. I’m ready for the quietness of traveling alone. I’m ready to read some good books on my kindle. I’m ready to take lots and lots of pictures. I’m ready to read the guidebook I bought. I’m ready to arrive and see my family. Check, check... Czech!

And unlike most trips I dont even have a top ten list. I just want to be warm enough to get to be outside, and cool enough to take some amazing pictures.

Bags are pack. Presents wrapped. This elf is ready to head on over the ocean and bring Christmas with her!

Don't Hate Me....

2011-12-12T07:53:00.000-06:00

I know. I know. I just got back from Haiti two weeks ago. I’ve been out of the country this year alone five times on international trips. I’ve done some epic travel. But I’m not done. Not even done for this year. In six days, I head back out across the ocean to try to complete a trip that got rerouted last year. I’m headed to the Czech Republic, and Prague. Really I’m headed to go see my parents for Christmas. See, I told you to not hate me.

Does it help at all that it will be a high of 32 degrees when I get there, and I plan to do some outdoor sightseeing? I’m hoping my body will naturally form an additional layer of skin that will numb me from the cold. And I plan to pack ever layer I own in an attempt to not be freezing the whole time. But it will be snowing, so I don’t even care.

Remember last year! I had the same plan. I had my bags packed and ready to head out. And then the snow came. Not to Texas but to London. That little city way up north that should be used to the cold. But apparently they weren’t and the domino effect had a vast impact on me as I realized I wasn’t going to be “going home” for Christmas after all. Instead, out of the kindness of my friend, Roseana, I had my very first Arkansas Xmas in Hot Springs. For not getting to go home and spend the holidays with my family for the first time ever, Hot Springs ended up being a really amazing second best place.

But this year. In case God, you are wondering. I’d like to be able to make this flight to Prague. I’d also like to get there before Christmas. And if I get a choice, I’d love for it to warm up above 35.

But as He always reminds me... He is God and I am not... so I’m sure nothing will work out quite like I expect, and yet with every trip I just get excited for the opportunity to travel, explore, learn new things, and have new experiences. No matter what this trip will not fail me in these areas.

So, Sunday I head out to Prague to spend two weeks away from my life in Dallas, press pause and enjoy a whole new world. I get to spend Christmas with my family in this winter wonderland, and then I have two friends who are joining me to bring in the New Years. I know... fabulous, right?!

So, dont hate me...

Normal Relfections

2011-12-05T08:10:00.000-06:00

I’ve been back a week and I struggle to remember just 7 days ago I got off a plane after spending a few days in Haiti. Life since has picked up right where I left it here, if not gotten faster with impending Holidays. Yet I don’t want to forget Haiti. I don’t want to allow experiences to happen and leave me unchanged. I want to be changed. I want to be moved. I don’t ever want to get so stuck in my ways that life bears no impact on me or anyone else.

Haiti. The country I’ve been to twice in less than ten months. The land where great beauty and pain can be found in a single breath. The place where God continues to stir my heart each time I’m there. Not stirring my heart to be there permanently, but a stirring in my heart as He speaks to me.

Ten months ago I went on my first trip to Haiti, and even now I can look back and remember the deep impression the Lord left. I realized for the first time how the Lord had taken my dreams for my life, ripped them up, and then how he had started to rebuild my dreams with his dreams. I have to say there has been refreshing breath in that. I still mourn those dreams I thought I wanted... but I also find myself so much more open to what the Lord has. My dreams were meeting a man in college, getting married right after school, buying a house, having a baby and another and another, living the upper-middle class dream, going on normal vacations, having a country-club membership and "supporting" those missionaries by writing a check. I wanted "normal" or at least the normal I'd grown up seeing from afar.

But normal won’t make my heart beat fast in anticipation and excitement. Normal won’t allow for me to look at my husband with love... and even more with respect. Normal will make me bored, complacent and self-sufficient. Normal makes me, my kids, and my husband belief life is just about us, and not recognizing all the ways God could use us. Normal will slowly kill my soul, breath by breath. I have wanted normal for all the selfish ways... for protection, security, and control... all things that in no way allow for me to have to take steps out in faith for him. Normal doesn’t allow for me to see the Lord's hand at work...

Normal, my heart twists and turns, shrinks and expands, fights every beat at the sound of the word. I’ve spent my life fighting this word, and most of the time not even knowing it. I want it, but I don’t. I thought I needed it, but I wont. It sits their elusively on the greener side of the grass, promising things that will fall short of what God desires for me.

And so going back to Haiti this time reinforced all of this and more. It reminded me of just how simple life could be. Just how little I really do need. Just how God has made me.

I still question how he plans to use it, and I still struggled with walking in to Corporate America the next day. But that is why I have to fight to remember those days I did spend in Haiti. The impressions the trip did leave. It reminded me that normal is an elusive dream that brings no life. It reminded me of the unique ways God has created me. It reminded me how I don’t know God’s plans for my life and yet despite that I still want them.

Day 4: How Things Change

2011-11-27T19:40:00.000-06:00

It’s been pretty amazing each day to see something new about Haiti and Port-au-Prince. Each day I've gotten to take in the sights and open my eyes that much bigger as I see new things. Yet in the midst of this, there have still be unexpected times of stillness and quiet.

This morning we made plans to head up the mountain to the famous Hotel Ibolele. Okay, it might not be famous anywhere outside of Haiti, but here it is a refuge away from the city, where people can get away. Ready for the impending adventure, we packed our bags, and stood ready for our ride. Now this ride is no ordinary ride. We’d already driven the taptap, so what else was left? A mototaxi of course! What is a mototaxi? A motorcycle, that you sit on the back and hold on for dear life as it weaves in between traffic to get you somewhere super fast.

We had a friend of a friend recommendation for a mototaxi come to meet us, and he corralled two others to drive us up the hill. Up we jumped on the backs of these mototaxis, and then I held on for dear life. I do believe I had the most fashionable mototaxi, in his hot pink polo shirt, and gold helmet. Fancy!

Over the rocky holes, broken roads and piles of trash, between the taptaps, large trucks and people. All that was keeping me on the motorcycle was my arms holding me to the back and my legs clenching onto the body of the motorycycle. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of us three girls swerving through traffic and ridding higher and higher into the mountains.

A few times we had to stop so they could ask for directions, and the response was a simple pointing up the hill to go further. At one point my mototaxi stalled, and kept stalling. We were on a very steep incline, and the sheer weight of us both wasn’t going to let it start. Finally, I just got off the motorcycle, and walked a little part up the hill till it leveled out more. By then he’d gotten it back up and running, and I jumped on to finish the ride to the top.

We made it! Alive… and swapped heart pounding moments of fear we all experienced in the adventurous ride up. I’m not going to lie, it was exhilarating, and I secretly loved ever second of it, despite knowing I was an loose hand grip away from falling right off.

When we got to the hotel we were met with a new side of Haitian beauty. The mountains were lush with trees, flowers, and an amazing picturesque scene of the ocean. You couldn’t hear all the noises of the city, and the peace and tranquility was breathless.

For the next few hours we just sat there, enjoying the pool, the shade, and our books. Then it was time to go back down the mountain. Again our mototaxis met us and off we went wizzing through traffic. For whatever reason the second time almost seemed worse as we cut shorter corners and squeezed into narrower spaces. As in India, I found myself turning to look the opposite way, knowing I would freak if I had to see where we were going. And as always, we made it through just fine.

Next on our plate was an invite to a real Haitian basketball game. Not just a local high school game, but in Port-au-Prince there are a number of large companies that sponsor teams and they form a league. This was the opening game of the season, and we knew the coach for one of the teams. We got to ride with him and the team, and got star treatment, with special seats in a VIP section. The section involved real seats, a fan, and sitting right behind a famous Haitian rapper, Mika Ben.

The cultural experience was beyond amazing. We saw two games, a halftime show from the rapper, and a few different dance numbers by the various company dance squads. Did I mention how amazing it was? I laughed so hard at times my sides hurt. And never fear we made sure to eat vendor food… plantation chips. They were heavenly.

Probably one of the funniest moments was went the coach called a timeout, and all of a sudden I watched the stands across the court from us completely clear out in seconds. What just happened? Was the game that bad they didn’t want to stay to finish it?

Nope. Apparently it had started to rain, and Haitians have a deep dislike for rain. To make matter even more amusing, they then went to cancel the basketball game due to the rain. I can honestly say I’ve never heard of a basketball game being cancelled due to rain. Football, yes. Baseball, yes. Not basketball.

But twenty minutes later the rain had stopped, and the game resumed. That night after the game we whizzed through the streets and I was amazed at how still and quiet Port-au-Prince can get at night. The streets were empty of vendors on the side of the streets, taptaps and mototaxis on the road, and the general hustle and bustle of people out. It felt eerily quiet, yet I knew tomorrow they’d all be back out, working to get through another day of life here.

For me this day was a reminder of how quickly things can change. A few miles up a hill, and you feel like you are in a different country. A few minutes, and a basketball area empties due to rain. A few hours later, and the city is eerily empty.

And in a few more hours I will be getting on a plane leaving it all behind. Oh, how quickly things really do change. In this case though, I hope the things I've seen, eaten, smelled and experiene do change me. I hope I let them change me for the better. Oh, how quickly things change.

Day 3: The Beach

2011-11-25T18:46:00.000-06:00

We went to the beach.

We did nothing but lay there.

It was amazing.

The End

Day 2: Thanks Giving

2011-11-24T15:09:00.000-06:00

I actually almost forgot today was Thanksgiving. Whenever I leave on a trip all sense of time and day gets lost on me.

We started this day early as we rolled out of bed at 7:15, and walked out of the house at 7:30. I really do love the simplicity of life here. 15 minutes was all it took to get ready. Amber had raved over this little bakery, with amazing croissants, and we were going to go hunt them down and enjoy the morning at a coffee shop. But in true Haiti fashion, nothing ever goes as plans. Did I mention we were planning on taking a Taptap up the mountain to the bakery?

A little history on the taptap. It is the Haitian bus system, but when I say bus, imagine bed of a truck, with two benches everyone squishes on. Definitely high rolling. But some people have some strong feelings and opinions on whether it is a good idea for three white girls to ride a taptap through Port-au-Prince. That didn’t stop us though, and I stand behind my decision to trust Amber as she lead the way.

When we finally found a taptap with enough room we pilled in and I looked across the taptap to this little girl who just kept staring at me. I chose the universal sign of smiling back at her, but she just kept giving me this strange look back. Oh well. Apparently I looked a little out of place. Once higher up the hill, we jumped out, put our hands on our bags, and followed Amber in single file, acting like we knew exactly where we were going.

To say we were out of place doesn’t do it justice for what we saw. We weaved through masses of Haitians on the sides of broken streets lined with market vendors and tiny shops with hand painted signs. Taking out my camera to capture this scene was not an option. All my senses were heightened as I watched people take the sight of the three of us in. Stares, kissy noises, creole words, and welcoming smiles. After having walked for about 5 minutes I finally had to admit that we were being followed. A Haitian man had been right behind us and didn’t seem to have any intention to stop. As we weaved, crossed the street, stopped and turned back he still was behind us.

As I grew a little more concerned I became bolder in turning around and looked him dead in the eye. He turned away and pretended not to notice. And yet he kept following. At one moment we got to the end of a street, and realized we’d hit somewhat of a dead-end, and Amber wasn’t quite sure where we were. Unable to claim defeat, we turned around and pretended we knew exactly where we were going. The little Haitian man still following us. Finally, we saw the large grocery store “Giant” that we were headed towards, and I felt like we were having an embassy-moment. Maybe this would deter the man. But as we got closer, he continued to get closer and closer. Just then we turned and walked into the secure area of the grocery store, I swirled around to stare him down, to which he turned and walked away. YEAH!

I’ll be the first to say that despite being followed, I was at complete peace. We were aware, not stupid, and I was a good 2 heads taller then him. What did he think he was going to do to me? Didn’t he realize that my childhood growing up with my brother, I’d inadvertently been trained in wrestling moves as a means of surviving my brother’s antics? Well, that and I had God on my side!

It was here at the grocery store we ended up buying various bakery treats, and cappuccino since the bakery had eluded us. But in a humorous twist of irony, we'd come to find out these treats were from the very bakery we'd been trying to find! I must say the treats were quite divine, and held there own with some of the best Italian treats I’ve had…. Who knew we were even in Haiti?

After a good 30 minutes, and a nice break we were headed back down the mountain. This time we exited the store out of a different entrance (I know, how very "Bourne Identity" of me) and I am grateful to say we never saw the Haitian man who followed us again. Instead we came upon a quieter street with a few women selling lots of fruits and vegetables. This was were I got to accomplish one of the things on my Haiti bucket list… buy an avocado. Now, I know we can buy avocados anywhere, but I don’t think you’ve ever see an avocado half the size of your head! It was enormous.

I would later get to cut it and only used half the avocado to make an amazing bowl of guacamole. Divine! I also bought mangos, but I haven’t gotten to try them yet.

Once we were back to the school we met up with a few different people and headed out to Teach Haiti. This is a school that Amber’s first roommate started about 3 years ago. It was amazing to see these kids, who would normally not get an education, get a chance to learn and grow.

They learn both French and English here and each student is sponsored so that the school can provide everything they need to continue their education. We got to visit each of the grades, and meet some of the teachers. Then we also got a to meet a few of the parents, as they are required to volunteer and help out at the school one day a week. It was so encouraging seeing an organization meeting a need, enabling the poor, and truly changing lives.

Once we finished the tour and met all the children, we got to see their “art” area. It was here where Roseana and I got a tutorial on how to make beads that they use to make necklaces and sell to support Teach Haiti. I can proudly say that I made 6 beads that my Haitian teacher approved of. Yeah!

Last stop was getting to play with some of the children in a little orphanage right next door. These kids were so young, and lived in this three bedroom portion of a house, with no real toys, but just a few beds, that I can only assume multiple children slept on together. They were so excited to have us there to play with them and their laughter was truly beautiful. When it was finally time to leave, I was sad to have to go. It was just so great to get outside of myself and enjoy the simplicity of life. It was an amazing reminder of how much of an abundance I have, and truly how little you need.

Happy Thanksgiving indeed!

Day 1: Bringing Christmas to Haiti

2011-11-23T20:28:00.000-06:00

Yesterday after a full day of work, I ran home, changed, finished packing and headed to the airport. This all sounds fairly normal for leaving for a trip, but inside I felt like this imposter. I was wearing my hiking pants, had my rugged backpack and looked like I was ready to camp across the country. This imagine in of itself is a rather false facade. I’ve never been one to do this kind of thing. Peru hiking was a stretch and we know how well that went. But there you had it… me looking way too outdoorsy for my own good.

The best part was the sharp contrast this held to the fancy smancy town car we had drive us to the airport. I blame it on groupon! But in the same breath, I wont lie and it was nice… real nice. We sat in the car, not caring about one iota of traffic as we called our credit cards and banks to let them know of our international travel plans. We arrived at the airport, got our bags checked in and then had 1.5 hours to kill. The whole time I kept wondering, are we really going to Haiti, is this really all happening?

This is probably the most relaxed I’ve been on a trip. It doesn’t hurt that I’d been to Haiti before. As we landed, got off the plane, fought through the masses to get our luggage and then walked down the long, long, loooong walkway out of the airport I was amazed that despite the chaos going on around me, I didn’t even care. I knew where I was, where I was going, and who I was meeting… that was all that really mattered.

In a twist of irony we actually got out of the airport well ahead of schedule (so very un-Haiti of us), so we found ourselves with time to wait for Amber. And wait we did for about 40 minutes. Some of the Haitian taxi cab drivers, and luggage carriers kept trying to convince us that Amber had forgotten to pick us up. I just laughed. Trust me… there was simply no way she would EVER forget! Ever, ever, ever forget. We’d emailed about this trip, skyped about it, facebooked about it and blogged. So as we sat there outside of the airport, waiting for Amber… I had complete confidence that she was going to be here any minute. And she was!!!

Without a blink of an eye we grabbed our bags, and went running after her. Threw our stuff into the car and jetted out of the airport… in awe of the fact that we were headed into Port-au-Prince and finally got to see Amber for the first time in months!

We made it…we’re here… and in a strange way it feels a little like home. I’m at peace, so ever comfortable, and amazed at this amazing place Amber is getting to call home.

We arrived at the school she teaches at and got a quick tour, before we took a detour to the cafeteria and begged for leftover food. Our first meal in Haiti was divine. Rice, beans, turkey and avocado!!! Once our bellies were full, we got excited to open our luggage and start unpacking.

The unpacking wasn’t so important… the delivery of goods was the really exciting part. We made Amber sit there with her eyes closed, and hands open as we placed each object in her hands, making her guess, until we just started throwing things at her from our suitcases. She kept squealing in excitement over all the things we kept pulling out of our suitcases. The best thing we brought by far was a surprise Roseana had come up with… we brought her Christmas!!! As in a Christmas Tree!!! The look on Amber’s face as she tried to figure out what she had was priceless.

Once we’d finished unloading we headed out for our walk through Port-au-Prince on our way to a children’s food distribution center. Why, yes, I did say we took a walk through Port-au-Prince and I was given strict orders to not take my camera out. A very good idea I must say, but that doesn’t change the fact that I wish I could fully capture all I saw. One of the big things was a large long truck jackknifed and incinerated. It was hard to know how recent, but no less then a day, with the smell of burn metal and tires fresh in the air. Once past the truck we walked down some other streets until we came to a posse of children waiting outside of a stone wall… we’d made it to a boy’s orphanage where we’d get to play with and feed a bunch of kids. Within minutes they’d started pulling on my leg, crawling in my lap and smiling for pictures. More so then in past trips, they were completely fascinated by my skin color. They kept pressing my arm and watching it change colors, and then rubbing my skin in awe. By the end of it I’d gotten a thorough dirt massage.

It was a great program to come and work with, as we watched some of the Haitian’s lead these children in music and then teach them a bible story. It wasn’t till the end that we all pitched in and helped pass out large plates of beans and rice for the kids. I was so very impressed by the efficiency of the organization and loved watching the older kids from the orphanage really step up and help lead with the younger kids.

After that we jumped in a car and got a ride back to the school, before we headed out to dinner at a local deli. Dinner was delicious sandwiches and my first real Haitian beer. It hit the spot.

After a quick stop at the Eagle grocery store to pick up last minute Thanksgiving supplies, Roseana and I came upon some machetes out to be sold on an aisle. Don’t you find that at every grocery store in Haiti?

Finally, we got home and finished off the night with putting up the Christmas Tree. I did try to make the point that we were putting it up two days early, but that didn’t seem to matter. I mean seriously, how often do you get to bring Christmas to Haiti? This is definitely a first for me.

Disconnected...

2011-11-21T08:34:00.000-06:00

This is a first for me in my 2+ years of blogging.... not having a blog ready to go Monday morning. That said, just go with what I'm about type, because I'm as clueless to what is about to come out, as you are...

The whole reason for not preparing ahead of time was the unexpected technological disconnect I found myself in yesterday. I'd like to give you this great reason that I'm being spiritual and decided to "disconnect" from the world and take a break to refocus. And though some of that is true, I need to clarify that this disconnecting was not by my choice. Yesterday my Internet just stopped working. And because of the beauty of technology not only did my Internet stop working, but so did my cable TV. Lets just be honest, what does one do without Internet and cable? Right! A little Little House of the Prairie-like for me. Okay, a little bit of an exaggeration considering I did have heat, but I think you get where I'm going.

It was a rude awakening to see how tied I am to technology. I want to be connected. But too often the things I seem to run after to feel connected (email, facebook, news) are not what the Lord has in mind. Yesterday was a reminder of just that. So, after calling the AT&T people and realizing no solution was going to be found for another 24 hours, I tried to let go and embrace it.

Embrace the quiet. Embrace the simplicity. Embrace the stillness of not being connected and actually enjoying it! With stillness came the ability to better focus during my time with the Lord, came the ability to actually read a book, came the ability to go to bed at a more decent hour, came the ability to not feel so much pressure to connect.

A perfect reality check right before heading to Haiti - a place were connection looks a lot different. May this trip be about connecting to the things the Lord would have me, not to that which I would have.... T-30 hours.

My Freakout...

2011-11-14T07:25:00.000-06:00

The 7 Wonders ofthe World. If you had asked me 3 years ago, I wouldn’t have even known what they were. I would have done what everyone else does... start by listing the Egyptian pyramids... and then stopped and wondered if the Grand Canyon was included as well (For the record, neither are). I fell into this random goal of visiting all seven less than two years ago. It started with a free trip to India and from there just snowballed into this crazy challenge I couldn’t stop myself from.

Since, I’ve spent the days, weeks and months planning, writing, and traveling, as I continued to check one Wonder of the World off at a time. It’s hard to believe that I’m already over halfway to see all seven of them. Only three Wonders stand between me and my goal before I’ll start to work on writing my book. That’s what I keep telling myself... travel to see the 7 Wonders of the World... then write about life through those experiences.

Yes, I know... so very Eat, Pray, Love of me.

But this dream all came to a screeching halt one morning as I pulled up the internet news on my computer. “Revealed: New 7 Wonders.” What? They changed it?.... Again? You have got to be kidding me. How can this be? Don’t they know I’m still busy trying to see the previous 7 Wonders of the World? And how often are they going to keep switching these up on me?

I started to feel my heart rate go up, and see my future plans fall apart. I couldn’t start over. I was so close. This was horrible.

In a blink of an eye I watched as my plans, my ideas and my goals all started to come crashing down. You would think based on my reaction that I’ve obstinately been charging ahead with my plans, not bothering to include God. And yes, there have been times when I find myself down that path, but then there are those times where He quickly puts me on my back with pneumonia, or leaves me stranded because of a snowstorm, reminding me all the while that He is ultimately in control. He reminds me that there is no way I could even attempt this without His guidance, provision and protection.

But that still doesn’t change the fact that millions had voted on some new Wonders of the World, and never told me about it.... until I read that word “Natural.” “Revealed: 7 New Natural Wonders of the World.” Oh, you mean there is a difference between the Wonders of the World, and the Natural Wonders of the World?

Apparently!

Crisis averted.... but way too close a call.

God's Sense of Humor

2011-11-07T07:16:00.000-06:00

If you remember my last post, I discussed my need to travel. My excitement about my next trip. My desire to get out of my surroundings and do something new.

And then, within 24 hours I unexpectedly found myself on a plane.

But not the kind of plane ride I was hoping for. No exciting new destination. No camera ready to take pictures. No friends to join the adventure. Just me. Headed back to Colorado, because my dad was sick... very sick.

Not so funny.

The verse that kept running through my head was from Isaiah 55:8
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord.

Yes, I wanted to travel, but like this? Definitely not my way, and yet it was completely where the Lord needed me for the week... away from my life, and loving my dad.

So, now less than 24 hours back from that unexpected trip I dont have amazing pictures, unless you count CT scans and X-rays of my dad. I didnt see any wonders of the world, unless you count one of the top 50 hospitals in the US. I didnt get to try any new foods, unless you count hospital cafeteria food. I didnt learn any new languages, unless you count words like colonitis, lovenox and probiotics. And I didnt meet any foreigners, unless you count the Italian male nurse, Sante, or the cussing giant German doctor.

Not my thoughts, or my ways, but God and his sense of humor...still providing in the midst of this unexpected trip.

PS. Praise the Lord, despite the hospital stay, the doctors were able to determine what was wrong with my father, and get him on the road to recovery.

Hiatus

2011-10-31T06:47:00.000-05:00

No, I’m not going to stop blogging... don’t you wish! But this is the word that keeps coming to mind as I count the number of days, weeks and months since the last time I travelled. Ridiculous I know, but July’s epic trip to Peru already seems like a distant memory as the holidays quickly approach. So what did I do after shuddering at the word “hiatus”? I bought a plane ticket of course!

And this time... I’m headed back to Haiti.

Back? That’s right, I’m going back to Haiti for the second time this year.

Never thought I’d go to Haiti, much less twice in one year. Back in February, it was an opportunity to join some of my closest friends on a mission trip, and get outside of myself. That trip changed my life forever. A bit melodramatic I know, but it really did. It had a profound impact on my life in many ways. Not only did my eyes open up more to the dreams the Lord has for me, but it also was the catalyst that brought my roommate to quit her job and move to Haiti.

She’s now been in Haiti for almost 3 months teaching at a local school, telling her kids about Christ. This Thanksgiving I get to see her new “normal” and go on some Haitian adventures. She’s been planning and plotting for our arrival. Plotting might seem a little odd, but I get the distinct impression she’s going to try to make sure we experience some “authentic” Haitian moments during our time. I cant wait.

I cant wait to see Amber and give my roomie a big hug... despite her lack of love for hugs. I cant wait to see where she gets to teach. I can’t wait to meet her new friends and Haitian family. I cant wait to meet the kids she plays with out in the community. I cant wait to buy avocados from a street vendor using my broken French. I cant wait to see what Haiti looks like nine months later.

I’ve already blocked out the hardships of my last trip to Haiti, but Amber has kindly reminded me of the mosquito infestation, the humidity and heat, the constant threat of malaria, and the slow clock that everything moves at. Despite it all, I’m still excited, and hopeful that I wont leave the country with the “Haitian Sensation” like I did last time.

Sayonara travel hiatus....Pepto Bismal here I come!

Geyser Alert

2011-10-24T07:54:00.000-05:00

There I was needing to get to work. Running late, I had a dozen things waiting for me the minute I would walk into the office, and I was a million miles away in my thoughts as I left my house and drove on autopilot. I had places to be, and things to do.

As I sped through my neighborhood, I suddenly was snapped out of my little bubble when I noticed the street I was passing looked less like a street and more like a river. As I peered through the rearview mirror I saw a large geyser in the front yard of a neighbor, shooting water up 10 feet and flooding the street.

Without a second thought I drove on by and counted my blessing that was not my lawn with a massive geyser. And what if it had been? Eeek.

Did I just have to ask myself that question! Truth be told, if that was me, I’d really really hope someone would stop and tell me, so why wasnt I stopping?

A rush of excuses started to fill that space as quickly as the question came.

I have to be at work on time. I’m too busy. I wouldn’t even know what to do. I’m sure they already know.

And then I started to negotiate with God. Well, next time Lord, I’ll stop. Next time I see something I’ll get out of my car. Just not this time.

The negotiations continued.

How about this, I’ll call the city to make sure they know? Ya, that will be good. I can do that from my car while still driving to work.

But the city number wasn’t working on my phone.

I’d like to tell you I turned around and went back to the house, but I didn’t. Instead I drove on and tried to push those 3.2 seconds of seeing the geyser out of my mind. I rationalized my decision and tried to sweep away the guilt.

But it didn’t go away. Instead it festered, and burned.

It wasn’t the first “geyser” I’ve seen. Nor will it be the last. In fact we all have “geysers” go off at various times in our lives. I was hit with the question: am I willing to take the time and tell a friend about their geyser, or am I too absorbed in my plans to stop and make time?

If I happen to be walking by, sure, I’ll walk up and ring the doorbell and let you know, but if I have plans, and places to be... then I am quick to create a looooong list of excuses on why I don’t need to be that person. But the fact that I saw the geyser should be enough of a reason to be that person...

iPhone Madness

2011-10-17T06:55:00.000-05:00

I dont have one. Not the 4s, the 4, or even the 3. I've never had one. And now, I want one.

For the first time I started to seriously contemplate this purchase. Maybe it was the unveiling of the new 4s. Maybe it was the early death of Steve Jobs. Maybe it's the fact that all my friends live off their iPhones. Okay, it doesn't actually provide a defibrillators to shock us back to life, but who knows, the next one just might.

It's tempted me for the last few years. I remember when the first one came out. My initial thoughts of it being overhyped... and then the first time I saw one up close and personal. This concept of "phone" morphed before my and everyone else’s eyes. Live as we knew it would never be the same.

No longer was it a mere phone with nifty gadgets. It became so much more. Juke box, camera, scheduler, scrabble player, restaurant locater, Facebook surfer, and on and on it goes. It has changed people's lives, and I've finally decided I'm ready for it to change my life.

I want it.

Only one problem... my provider doesn't service it. Worse yet I'm stuck halfway through my ghetto phone contract. See, I've held out from "upgrading" to any kind of fancy “smart” phone. My phone is just that... a phone. It calls. It picks up. It even accepts text messages and lets me text back. Isn’t that amazing? And that's about it. It's a phone, nothing more... nothing less.

So, I made the call. Started calculating the costs to join this new generation of phone people and was quickly stopped in my tracks. $200. $200 to break a contract. That doesn’t even include joining a new company. $200... or wait for a year.

I don’t want to wait. I want the iPhone 4s. I want what everyone else has, and gets to enjoy.

Yet the reality is, I cant have it. And somehow life will go on. Phone calls will continue to be made. Text messages will be sent. And it will be fine.

An iPhone though is just one of the many things that seems to be changing the lives of the people around me. Those things that at times I’m fine not having and then at other times start to believe would truly do just that... change my life. Give me something I’ve always wanted, and now think I cant live without. A better job. A slimmer body. A nicer wardrobe. A bigger bank account. A husband...

Cant I just have it all? Apparently not. Apparently there is opportunity for growth. Growth... sometimes I want it, other times I think I can go without. Thankfully God doesn’t always take my opinion into account. Thankfully there are times he lets me have these things to show me there isnt life in it, and other times he refuses to let me have it to experience life in Him.

Whether I get an iPhone now, in a year from now or never, despite my strong believes... it wont change my life. Well, it might change it a little, but probably not as dramatically as I’d like to believe. And who knows, maybe waiting a year from now to reassess will good for me.

By then the iPhone 5 should be here.

The Perfect Saturday Morning...

2011-10-10T08:12:00.000-05:00

Except for the part where I had to wake up early and convince myself it was worth getting up. A few days prior a friend had suggested we visit a local farmer’s market. I was game. I had no idea what it was going to be like, but when am I not up for an adventure? But before we ventured to fresh produce, a morning walk around White Rock Lake was had.

The weather was finally cool enough to actually enjoy being outside. We saw swans, cranes, and even a few rowers out on the water. As I walked at a pleasant stroll, people went running by us, and I was consistently reminded how glad I was to not be running. I mean, I want to run. Actually, I want to want to run. But whenever I try my body yells back in protest. I am reminded that my desire to want to run will never match my desire to run... oh, but I digress.

After a great walk and even better conversation around part of the lake we headed to the farmer’s market. It wasn't too big, but then I really wasn't quite sure what I was expecting. First stop, breakfast tacos. Two bucks. You cant beat that... and they were delicious! Then we were ready to enjoy the vendors. Next stop the Cheese Man. Need I say more? No, really, he is an actual cheese man. Makes it himself with real Swiss cow milk. I would come to find out that this type of milk/cheese is actually quite rare. And then we got to try three different kinds cheese. Fab-u-lous. He just deepened my already vast love for cheese a little more.

Then we headed to the Bread Man. I would then come to discover that despite his beautiful bread all sitting before me, we had missed his croissants. There is always next time.... especially after I realized people had lined up behind me in hopes of one of his croissants! I was then faced with a serious dilemma olive oil and rosemary infused sourdough loaf, or a wheat cranberry, raisin and nut loaf. Right? Tough decision. What won me over was when the Bread Man told me the berry bread makes amazing French toast. Done!

Next stop Herb Ladies. No really, these ladies were selling bouquets of herbs. At first I was really confused and asked about the different herbs, but quickly had a wonderful conversation with one of the Herb Ladies. She shared that her friend has a large plot of land where it all grows and the night before they all go out and “harvest” the herbs for the farmer’s market, followed by drinking wine and eating cheese. SOLD! Can I come? Take me now. I’m in heaven.

Again, digressing. So after telling me this, and then probably being drugged by the amazing smells of herbs waffling around me, I bought a massive bouquets which included basil, rosemary, Thai basil, Mexican something or another that smells like tarragon, and more. Did I mention how much I loved those Herb Ladies? Sooo cute and cool!

Last stop was some huge tomatoes from a local farmer. They looked so beautiful, and were calling my name telling me how good they will taste in a Caprese salad.

But the morning was not over. A stop at a local bookstore, and a venture through the stacks of books, followed by one last stop at a European deli with delicious pastries and Dutch wooden shoes ended the excursion. And to think this all happened in the confines of Dallas! Who knew?

My morning was made complete when I got to come home and unpack my finds, only to put together an amazing lunch. Fresh bread with butter, fresh mozzarella with tomatoes, fresh basil, and balsamic vinaigrette, with fresh strawberries and a chilled glass of Perrier. Are you tired of me using the word fresh yet? I was satisfied... more then satisfied. And I swear this all happened in Dallas, and not in some quaint Italian village off the Mediterranean Coast.... though I would have been fine being transported there.

By the end of the morning I sat on my couch content with an amazing morning....no, more like a perfect morning. And to think I almost didn’t get out of bed for it!

Be Still

2011-10-03T07:46:00.000-05:00

I’ve been thinking for a while about my job. Where do I go from here? Is this where I’m supposed to be? How do I manage life like this? Do I even want to be in this place? How am I able to serve the Lord through it? And how much longer can I really do this for?

The last time I dealt with these questions I spiraled into a paralyzing fear. I wanted so desperately to find purpose and meaning in life from the Lord that I gripped my knuckles tightly around air hoping it would materialize into something… something I didn’t even know, but I knew I wanted. I’d find myself running around an empty house, looking in every nook and cranny to find what I didn’t know I was looking for. And then I found myself exhausted, weary and paralyzed in the unknown. I was done trying to figure it out, and all I could do was take one day at a time, trusting the Lord would direct my path because I had no idea where I was going, only that I was confused about where I was.

And now, now the same uncertainty of my life has come up, but my approach has changed. The words I’ve heard the Lord scream and then whisper at times are “be still.” Just two words, with seemingly little action, yet massive constraint.

Be still, Lord?
Really?
But I want to do, move, experience….be.

I know, that is why I want you to be still. Can you be still? Can you just sit in my presence and trust me? Can you let the ranting and raving of this world fall away and hear my voice? Can you and more importantly do you want to?

I do. Of course I want to…. well, I think I want to. But, are you sure? I want to move on. Find a better place. Be in the zone. Look at my life and find affirmation in my actions and abilities. Ya, I trust you God, but "be still"? You don’t really mean that do you? Why would you want that? I mean, I know the world is loud, and obnoxious, but don’t you want me to be effective and change the world for you?

What do you mean? You are questioning my desires to change the world for you? You think it’s really more about me? Well….Crap. You might be on to something.

But stillness. How do I know if I am being still? How do I know if I’m doing it right? How do I know when I can stop?

You don’t. You abide in me. You trust me. You be still, and I will act. You don’t have to do… I will and I do. But what is the point of acting for you, if you are busy doing it yourself? I need you to be still, so I can be that much more in your life. So you can experience my strength and power, so that I can be the “I am” in your life.

Will you let me be that?

"Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for him to act." Ps 37:7a

No Shirt, No Shoes.... Part 2

2011-09-26T06:28:00.002-05:00

My outlandish goal to go six months without buying any clothing stood before me.The longer I went, the more I wanted to see if I could do it. And whatdid I learn?

1. I found great freedom in not shopping. I didn’t even really miss it most ofthe time. I didn’t bother going into stores, cause I knew it was pointless. Irefused to look at catalogs cause I couldn’t buy anything. And somehow itworked. I mean, I missed the occasional “new clothing” excitement of wearing something that makes you feel pretty. But then I’d had these fun mornings where I would look in my closet and wonder what on earth I should wear, andwalk out somehow managing to match together a brand new outfit that had beenwaiting in my closet to be found. Who knew?

2. I found my focus moving from things to God. Don’t get me wrong, I still wanted things. And though my desire for clothing faded some, I would find myself shifting my focus to other things, like items for my house. But I also found myself trusting the Lord more. The glitz and glamour didn’tcatch my eyes the way it had before, and my needs and wants started to be separated by a chasm. Myself perceived needs would inevitably find themselveson the other side of the canyon and turn into a want. In the meantime I would see in new ways God’s provision. Here I thought I needed new shoes, new scarf, new work outfit. Here I thought I’d possibly die of mortification if I had to wear that dress one more time to a wedding. But God was reminding me of my sheer abundance. And shocking in the midst of this clothing fast I still found excess in my closet and ended up giving awaymore clothes. It wasn’t because I had become a more holy person, but because God was using this exercise to free me from the bondage of things and show me the abundance I was living in.

3. I didn’t want to ever hesitate in my obedience to the Lord, no matter howridiculous. The truth is 2011 wasn’t the first year I had thought of tryingthis escapade. The first time I read the book was almost ten years ago, and Ihad recoiled in horror at the thought. Not buying clothes for a year, is shecrazy? That fear that grips your heart when you know you are probably ontosomething the Lord wants you to do, otherwise you wouldn’t be becoming sodefensive. That fear is what I fought on and off as I refused to availall of my life to the Lord. That fear that stopped me from more fullytrusting God and clouding my judgment that ultimately I want God, no matterwhat. I need to trust his will is greater than my wisdom andplans.

White Flag of Surrender

Thequestion then begs to be asked, what am I holding back from doing? Andultimately missing out on because I’ve been too stubborn to avail myself to theLord’s challenges for my life? It took me ten years to finally try this,so I can only imagine what else I’ve refused to be challenged to.

PS.And yes, I did buy a few piece of new clothing once the 6 months ended. Fewthough is the opportune word. 6 months ago that word held a lot more “weight”now it really is “fewer.”

No Shirt, No Shoes....

2011-09-19T07:12:00.000-05:00

The first time I ever heard about it was in a book. A girl decided to do it for a year, and the minute I heard about it I laughed. She seemed a little self-righteous and “earthy” to be doing this. I shuddered at the though of having to do anything similar, and took comfort in this just being a story, in a book. Not real life. That was ten years ago.

This is 2011. I’m somewhat morally opposed to New Year’s resolutions. Probably cause I’ve found so much joy in them at various times, and then ended in frustration at another failure. Out of obstinacy I’ve refused to have any resolutions and instead will consider a goal if anything. This year I had this crazy thought, but refused to sound the words out loud in fear that someone would hear me. If they heard me then I’d be faced with accountability, something I was not ready to sign up for. Especially not for this “resolution.”

So instead, I went through the first two weeks of the year “trying it out” to see just how difficult this might be. I got through, fairly painless, but resisted the urge to verbalize, until one day on the couch I said it. Still not owning it as “my” resolution I spoke of the book. The girl who refused to buy any clothing for a year. How crazy is that, right? ..... or is it?

I’d made it through 2 weeks of not buying clothes. Could I make it longer? One month? Two months? Six months? a year? Still too afraid to commit to something, excuses came sprouting up from the ground. That would be impossible. I had trips coming up, like Italy and Haiti and Peru. Certain things would have to be purchased for those trips. It was impossible.... or was it?

With a small caveat a pack was made. No clothes for six months, except those needed specifically for those trips.

Italy was easy enough. Haiti was approaching.... Peru was a far distance away.

Classic White Collared Shirt
I’d looked through my closet and thought I had a few good white shirts. Enough for a year. Good quality ones. No worries there. But within a week I came home from a fabulous India meal, only to find Chicken Marsala sauce residing on my shirt. Despite bleach, oxy-clean, and a few loads of laundry this stain was in no hurry to depart. I rescind myself to the end of this shirt. I let it hang in my closet, praying it would mend itself, white I scrubbed it with a Tide-to-go pen, knowing it was too late. Or was it?

A week or so later I noticed the stain didn’t seem quite as bright as it had appeared in the past. But it was still there. More Tide-to-go, but still a stain. Then some more. And some more... and some prayers. One day I looked at the shirt, and to my confusion and dismay found no more stain. I’m still not quite sure where it went, but it’s gone.

A shirt, normally long gone, found a second chance.

The Perfect Coat
I’d written of my pursuit of finding the right coat for my trip to Italy, but it never happened. Despite tons of coats viewed and tried, nothing screamed “dream coat” and I headed across the ocean without little second thought. It would not be till weeks after coming home that I would be reminded of this thought. I walked into a friend’s house and was greeted by a coat. A coat that my friend wanted me to try on. I did with hesitation, uncertain of the terms and conditions.

I would come to find out the coat had been a purchase gone wrong. When it arrived, the sleeves found themselves well past the arm length of the intended owner. When considering other possible owners, my name had come up. The coat fit. It fit very well, but the expense was not an option. It was only a month into this year, and I wanted to make it longer then this. Instead I was shocked. It was a gift. No purchase. Free.

The coat itself was amazing, but the circumstances were even more amazing. I was struck most by how the Lord had chosen to provide for me. Provide well above and beyond anything I needed. Provide a blessing I probably would not have appreciated as greatly had I not decided on this resolution. A free “perfect” coat, is a free coat. But a free “perfect” coat in the midst of a six month hiatus of clothing purchases is one amazing gift and blessing from God.

Crocs and Shorts
Now came a real test. My first real trip of the year, Haiti. This trip would require various things I didn’t necessarily already have. A few of the things we were encouraged to get were Crocs and basketball shorts. Two things I didn’t have. But, in this case the caveat was I would be able to purchase these things since it was specifically for this trip. Yet, there was this little voice that kept asking me, “do you believe the Lord can still provide all you need in the are of clothing.... even for this trip?”

I wanted to believe, but I wasn’t sure. I waited and wondered. The trip loomed, and I had resigned myself to buying the needed supplies. Through a bizzare twist of events I ended up stranded in Houston on my way home to Dallas after my departure from Colorado A snowstorm had taken Dallas down. It was here in Houston I got to spend some unexpected quality time with my Beastie from college. As she picked me up from the airport and drove me home she mentioned, "oh, and dont let me forget to give you a support check for your trip to Haiti." It was then that I shared those resources had already been raised, and she asked if I needed anything else. Why yes, yes I do! A pair of Crocs, actually. And, so, the Lord provided in a beautiful way the shoes I needed for thsi trip.

But what about those basketball shorts I needed? Why did I even worry! The week before the trip, my brother promised to look through his closet and ended up picking up a few pairs for me from Goodwill. Here the Lord had provided above and beyond for not one, but two trips!

To be conitnued....

Vanity. Oh, Vanity!

2011-09-12T06:12:00.000-05:00

I consider myselfa fairly non vain person. I mean, I’velived in Dallas for 6 years and never considered getting plastic surgery. Never spent half my income on clothes and miracle creams. Even came to a pretty good place of being grateful for the body the Lord gaveme.

See, I’m not toovain.
Or am I?

I’ve hiked and campedfor 4 days in Peru, not having a chance to take a shower. I’ve done manual labor outin the heat of Haiti, and showered with hard water that made my hair stand inplace. I’ve gone without makeup for a week or two before.

See, I don’t feellike I’m that vain.
Or am I?

Last weekend Iheaded out for a retreat with 700 other young adults and all my insecuritiescame flying at me. Comparison, fear, imperfection and anxiety smacked me squarein the face, as I stood there a little stunned at their entrance. Where didthey come from? Didn’t they know there was no room for them in my life?

As I wrestledwith them, I fought to remind myself of my identity in Christ, not others. All well and everything, until I went asleep.Sleep, seems a safe enough place to take a rest, wouldn’t you think? After along day of physical activities, out in the sun I was exhausted and slept likea log. The next morning I woke up refreshed.

I stretched, Satup. Rubbed my eyes. Rubbed them some more. Scratched my hand. Looks down and stopped. That didn’t lookgood.

As I got up andwalked over to the mirror, I had my movie moment. Thank you Will Smith.

Staring rightback at me was a swollen face. It would not be till a day later that I wouldput it all together. Ants had found me and enjoyed a few meals on my FACE.

Remember my lackof struggle with vanity? Change that to STRUGGLE! I still had another day with these people, and I knew despite my bestefforts no amount of concealer, anti-histamine, powder and explanation wasgoing to get rid of these welts on my face. I was stuck with them. And they weren't going away any time soon!

As I headed out to interact with the masses I had to fight through what was going on inside. I could freak out about it. I could because extremely self-conscious about it, or I could go on. I could brush my bangs down, take some anti-histamine, and head out to take on the day.

The worst part was the welling would go down a bit, only to get worse again. Such a little bite. Such a tiny animal, and yet a path of destruction to be found on my face. AUGH!

But then doesn't this happen in life? We become complacent and sleepy to the things in life, and wake up to a pathway of destruction, because of a perceived "little" issue in our life.

But, God, in case you are wondering, I'm really completely alright with not learning lessons like this physically, especially when it involves my face. Still, lesson recognized.... now whether it has been learned, I'll be the first to say this is a work in progress.

Labor Day

2011-09-05T17:22:00.000-05:00

Enough said.

A day to take a rest from labor. So in the spirit of the holiday, that is exactly what I'm going to do.

Rest. Be Still..... and allow the Lord to fight for me.

How are you?

2011-08-29T06:54:00.000-05:00

In one day I probably am asked and ask the question over 30 times.

“Good.”

The answer comes without a second thought. The two people move on to the real matter in question, or pass by without a second glance, much less another thought. It’s supposed to show we care about each other, but really we don’t want to know the answer. We ask it out of expectation as a greeting.

If someone answers differently, we are startled. Don’t they realize they just broke the rules? That isn’t the correct answer. Well, one can say such things as “excellent” and “fabulous” but that is where the buck stops. Answers beyond that make halt and reconsider having asked the question to start off with. In reality do we really care how the other person is?

What if I were to truly tell them how I am? Then what? Would they walk on? Would they get uncomfortable? Would they respond in kind?

Maybe it’s just me, but I get tired of this obligatory greeting. It seems so stale and hollow for words that should carry so much more meaning and care.

And then the shortest conversation of all, when we run into an acquaintance we haven’t seen for a while.

“How are you?”
“Good.”
“How are you?”
“Good.”

Silence....

Now what? I just asked them how they are, and all I got was a good. So is that it? Do I move on? Do I ask further questions? What other question can I ask them? Is that a “good” as in I don’t really feel like talking about it right now especially to you, or a “good” as in that is the answer I’m supposed to give you and we’ve move on? Or and actual “I really am good”?

What if we stopped answering the obligatory, easy answer of “good”? Then what?

Would the world change? Probably not. It would still keep on rotating on it’s axis, but maybe we would change.

I want to truly care. When I ask that question I want to ask it prepared to get a real answer. And with a real answer, comes the responsibility of knowledge. Whatever they share, I now need to do something. Whether it is pray, or plan to hang out, or stop and listen. When I ask the question, I need to be prepared for the follow-through of the answer.

When I answer the question, I want to know enough about myself to know the answer. Isn’t that the other part of the problem? We are running around so fast from one thing to the other that we don’t even know the answer to this question ourselves. If we truly dug down behind our own façade would we be good? Or would we be struggling? lonely? exhausted? unsatisfied? disillusioned? wanting more out of life? questioning our path?

So what would happened if we stopped asking that question to every person we passed by, so that when we really asked the question we would care? When we answered the question we would be honest with our struggles and fears? Would others judge us? Maybe, but how else do you break out of this stereotypical mold? Would we judge others? Lets hope not.

So here it goes:

How are you?

Camera Envy

2011-08-22T06:53:00.000-05:00

Lets just be honest, I have camera envy, Not just camera envy, but picture envy. I’ve tried to play it off like I don’t care, but I do. I cant deny it anymore, and have decided to admit the truth. I’ve been told that’s the first step.

It’s been going on for a while, but I always had good excuses. At first I was new in the world of photography, and got excited when I took a great picture. Then I started to feel the jealousy seep in when I saw good pictures that others had taken. And then I came up with a long list of excuses on why I could have just as well had those great pictures if only…

If only I had a better camera.
If only I had the super-doper editing software.
If only I had the time, education and skill.

I think they are pretty good excuses, but the reality remains… I have envy. I am jealous, and I covet. I never thought I was a jealous person, but this whole creative avenue has really brought it out. I love photography. I want to be good at it… no, wait… I want to be GREAT at it. Not for any kind of spiritual reasons, but for the selfish reason of being so inspired by the pictures I see that I wish I had the ability to be GREAT at this type of art. The reality is, I’m not.

I’m not fishing for compliments, but so much of this is luck for me, not really skill. I just click a lot and eventually something has to take.

The other weekend I was in a wedding, and I watched the wedding photographers click away. I gawked at their fancy smancy cameras, and asked about the lens. But the reality is it is hard to justify spending thousands of dollars on camera lenses. Don’t get me wrong, I’d totally take it if someone gave it to me, but it isn’t to be.

Having a better camera isnt going to take away my envy, it’s just going to make me more self-righteous. If the better camera happens to bring better pictures, by not fault of the user, I am afraid I would quickly exalt self.

I can sit there and kid myself that camera envy in the big scheme of things isn’t so bad, but the reality is it’s just a small symptom of what I’m capable of... what we are all capable of. We are capable of a lot.... a lot of sin. It might come in deceptively small and unassuming packages, but it is still there just wrapped in different colored papers and bows.

If I’m willing to be honest about what is in that package and stop sugarcoating it I have a chance. I have a chance to fight through the ugly and break through to the kind, loving and gracious. I cant do it on my own though. I need the Lord. I need to walk away from my self-righteous attitude of being able to do things on my own and embrace God’s governance in my life to do it for me. It's His power that can take my honesty and sinfulness and use it for more.

So that instead of me finding my identity in the pictures I’m able to find through my camera, He is able to be glorified through the pictures of my life.

Confessions...

2011-08-15T06:48:00.000-05:00

I have come face to face with a reality. I have a problem, and I need to confess it. I’m addicted to travel.

Yes, I know. I have just stated the obvious, but the truth is still staring back at me. I don’t just like to travel, I LOVE to travel.

Over the last 18 months of travel I’ve had been to 3.5 continents (if you count Central America as 1/2), 6 countries, 10 airports, and 4 wonders of the world. I’ve tasted street food, fine dinning, home cooking, and camp food. I’ve had bottled water in most of these places.

Street food in India

Guine Pig in Peru

Ice cold Coca-Cola in Haiti

I’ve seen people with many different shades of skin different then mine.

Incan woman in Peru

Italians in Naples

Haitian Children

I’ve blended in with my surroundings. I’ve stuck out like a sore thumb. I’ve spoken the language. I’ve started at strangers in confusion at what they are saying. I’ve taken Pepto Bismol in the hope that it will work. I’ve taken medicine from strangers in the prayer that it will heal. I’ve gotten 7 different shots for everything from Yellow Fever, to Typhoid, to Polio. I’ve taken 3 kinds of malaria medicine for different trips, and yet still had a time where I questioned if I did have malaria.I’ve tried McDonalds in every country.

Italy

India

Peru

I’ve bought new shoes, Crocs and hiking boots. I’ve tried local delicacies that some consider pets. I’ve climbed up tall stone stairs in more then one country. I’ve fallen down stairs. I’ve gotten lost. I’ve lost a travel companion. I’ve smiled at strangers and said hello in different languages. I’ve spoken English in hopes that someone will understand and have mercy on me. I’ve rejoiced over a flushing toilet. I’ve travelled on trains in 4 countries, jumped out of the window of one, and almost missed two.

Peru, after our hike

Italy on our way to Naples

First train in India

I’ve journeyed with strangers who would become new friends. I’ve deepened my friendships with other friends. I’ve worked through conflict. I’ve gone all day walking around a city. I’ve laid under the sun and done nothing.

After the last 18 months of traveling I thought I’d be tired of it, but instead I reminisce of what I’ve gotten to do and continued to dream of what might lay ahead. I want to go anywhere and everywhere. Each place entices me, and whispers my name. No place seems too dangerous or remote. And then I have to stop and ask myself, why do I love traveling so much? Why am I doing this?

It is what makes me feel alive. It draws me closer to the Lord. It lets me stand in awe of God’s creations. It makes me grateful for what I have. It reminds me of how little I really need. It lets me learn new things about myself and who He made me. It drives me out of my comfort zone. It grows my heart that much more for this earth and the people on it. It propels me forward in life. It shows me daily of His provision. It makes me dependent on Him. It makes me grateful for home. It gives me amazing memories. When I travel I breath God in and exhale praise to Him so much more often then I normally do. Everything is new, alive and different. I take nothing for granted and click at every imagine I see.

Mexico

Florida

I see sunsets and cant help but praise him. I see poverty and cant help but cry out to him. I see spiritual depravity and am humbled. I see rich cultures and soak it in. I see life lived in so many different ways and wonder what I can learn from them.

God has used this travel to let go of fears. Be open to new ideas. Trust Him in bigger way. And let Him use me in whatever little things he chooses both at home and wherever I am.

I confess. Travel is my addiction...

but it draws me in closer to the Lord. It makes Hm bigger, and reminds me of how small I really am in this beautiful, massive world he created eons ago.

Travel is my addition. I am grateful for the ability to do it. And I hope this is only the begining of much more to come.

Despite My Disobedience

2011-08-08T06:43:00.000-05:00

I heard the words I’d been dreading. I knew it was possible and it just made my heart stop. I wanted to scream…. Don’t make a decision yet. Nothing is final. Who knows what will happen. You don’t know what you are saying. You don’t need to go. You don’t really want to go. Don’t go!

And yet the words came out of her mouth… I’m going.

My heart dropped. My throat tightened, and my eyes welled up. My voice fought to control the quaking it felt, and I struggled to deal with the reality. Going…. Another one going. Not just anyone going though… a dear friend, a bestie, who knows me, and whom I know. I know it isn’t gone forever, but it’s still gone. It’s change. It’s different, and it simply won’t ever be the same.

So going she is.

Supporting I will. From across an ocean. Away from this home.

Support I will... but missing I will even more.

Missing the familiarity, the banter, the comfort, the laughing, the glance that speaks a thousand words, and the voice that calls my motives out… missing the tears shared, the ideas dreamed, the trips planned…. Missing it all…

I know it’s only an ocean, a flight, and skype away… but it is still away…gone.

How can I be so certain that this is where she needs to go, yet so torn?

I still remember the day. The day I acted in direct disobedience to the Lord. I happened to be reading a blog and the mention of a need for teachers in Haiti. My thoughts immediately jumped to my roommate Amber and how much she would love an opportunity like that. Then my mind jumped to self-protection as I diminished this thought, and made the decision she was better here, in Dallas, as my roommate, and had no need to consider this chance.

A day passed, then a week. The thought would pop up but I let there be little lingering time allowed for the idea. Moving on. Nope God, that isnt for her. Trust me on this one God.

Then a month passed. Something was off with her. I could tell she wasn’t alright, and I asked: “what’s wrong?”

The words that poured out of her mouth were filled with desperation and confusion. She wanted more... more then this life in Dallas was offering her. She wanted to go, but didn’t know how. As I listened the guilt and reality of the situation hit me. I knew. I knew exactly where she needed to go... and I had become the roadblock. I was coming face to face with my disobedience and not just the impact on myself, but much worse... the impact on another. The impact on one’s call and dreams.

I couldn’t do it in that moment. But that night I wrestled with my actions and knew I couldn’t pretend anymore. I had to come out with the truth, and pray it wasn’t too late. In a matter of hours of receiving this news from me, and the opportunity in Haiti, an application was completed and a heart was ignited.

Now four months later, this pressing on my heart by the Lord has turned into a life changing reality for my friend. She is going.... going... gone. I couldn’t be more excited for her. Truly, deeply excited! I will miss her. It is hard to see her go, but in the same way the Lord provided for her to go, he will provide in my staying.

She’s gone. She arrived, and the best part... she is alive in her surrounding. Right where she needed to be... despite my disobedience.

PS. To follow Amber on her Haitian adventure, be sure to follow her blog.

The Bachelorette: Lessons Learned

2011-08-01T06:57:00.000-05:00

I admit...I used to be a closet “The Bachelor/Bachelorette” fan. Now I’m willing to come out and be more open about it...I admit I have a problem. I started watching the show the very first season it came out...with my dad. My mom would head out to her bible study that night of the week and my dad and I would sit on the couch and watch what this crazy new “reality” show was all about. Yes, the irony of that situation is not lost on me.

I loved it then and I still love it now. But, probably not for all the reasons you would think. It’s not the McDreamies who fight for their wanna-be-brides, or the Prince Charming who finds his fairy tale Princess. No, it’s for the chance to witness the reality play out in what we think should be the perfect opportunity, the ideal situation, and the sparkling ending.

This season of the Bachelorette was no except in it's array of wisdom bestowed Below are just a few of the nuggets The Bachelor and The Bachelorette have taught me:

1. It doesn’t matter how many amazing guys you find yourself alone with in a room. If you were insecure before, you will be insecure during. I have some compassion for the 25 girls who find themselves staying at a mansion with 24 other perfectly proportioned, highly intellectual, charismatic women. That is one hard place to be, and yes it brings out everyone’s insecurities. But if being the only girl with a broad of men fighting for you as their bride does not remove those insecurities, then nothing will. Time to work on your baggage because clearly no man or number of men are going to fix that. And, if by some miracle he does, for some fleeting moment, may that good man have some wisdom to run away from the chance to be charged with the responsibility of trying to comfort away those insecurities. It ends up being more of a mad game of Whack-a-Mole trying to find a man to meet every little insecurity that pops out than time to focus on building a relationship.

2. If left to our own ability to pick the perfect person for ourselves, we will fail miserably. Look at the track record of the show. I believe we have one couple married with kids, Trista and Ryan, but even the other married couple, Jason and Molly, doesn't count. Jason originally picked the other girl, and then came back and dumped that girl to get Molly back. Jason got the chance to pick right and picked wrong. I think too often we’d like to think we know what would be best for us. Reality check, we dont! The show reminds me weekly how grateful I am to not feel the pressure to pick perfectly. God knows what’s best for me. I do not. He knows what I need. I do not. So, I’m going to stick with His track record and plan. That probably means I’ll end up finding myself with someone I had not considered from the beginning as a good match, but it’s not about the start but rather how we run our race together.

3. The heart knows nothing, so why do we keep thinking it will lead us well? I hate to beat a dead horse but look at this season. Ashley keeps “feeling” for this disaster, Bentley. She has gone on and on and on about this man. This man she spent two weeks with, had been warned against, and despite it all threw herself at him. Her heart, her heart, her heart... yada yada yada. We want to believe that if we trust our heart it will lead us to “the one,” but who am I kidding. When is the last time my heart lead me to anything that endures and last forever? On any given day my heart leads me to chocolate, avoiding conflict, comfortable clothing, and cheesy romantic comedies. None of those things provide me things I need for the long-term health of my being. None of these things develop and strengthen me as a person. In fact the heart leads to things quite opposite. Yes, seek the LORD out with all your heart, but then HE can guide as needed. Without him, feelings and the heart are just a huge bear trap ready to tear you to pieces.

Like I said, most people probably think I’m a little crazy for watching a TV show that just seems to trainwreck every step of the way. But in fact, I’ve been grateful for the weekly reminders that these things of this world are not what they appear. Life can't be found in it and ultimately all my desperate attempts of wanting to find true love will fail miserable by my own accord.

This is where I find rest. Rest in knowing God is in control. He has a plan, and He knows best.

After Machu Picchu: Our last days in Peru

2011-07-25T06:23:00.000-05:00

It’s hard to believe it has already been a week, but I want to leave you with our last memories of Peru….

As we said our farewell to Machu Picchu we headed down the mountain for our last team celebration with Roger. Since the first time we met him, he had strongly cautioned us against avocados. Avocados aren’t bad, but apparently they don’t mix well with high altitude and our stomachs. So, true to his word, we celebrated our completion of the hike with some amazing Peruvian guacamole (on a side note, I had no idea about Peru and its avocados, but man alive are they amazing. They literally melt in your mouth. The only other place that comes close to such good avocados is California), beer (got to try real Peruvian beer) and cuy (guinea pig)! We finally got an opportunity to try guinea pig. Little did I expect them to deliver the whole guinea pig, but the presentation was quite a sight.

It was such a special last meal as a team with Roger. We got to laugh over favorite memories, get team pictures, exchange email addresses, and thank him for the amazing way he took care of us, his “babies.”

After stuffing ourselves we got on a train for our 2 hour ride through the mountains we had just spent 4 days hiking. It was sad to see it all pass us by as we headed back to Cusco for our last days. So much blood, sweat, dirt, tears, laughter, memories, beauty and unity was experienced on those trails… I was actually going to miss it a little…well, maybe a lot.

When we finally got to Cusco we got our “nonessential” bag of stuff back, and I realized how little one really needs. Over those four days in the mountains, we lived off so little it almost made me dread the re-entry into our excess world.

Our next two days were spent traveling to Lima and then getting to spend a day walking around the area of Marifleur. We got to take a beautiful walk to the coast, along the coast, and even touch the ocean. I’d been warned that the ocean wasn’t much to look at in Lima but I did enjoy watching some surfers out, counting the crabs along the rocks, and hearing the ocean wash into shore.

It was a great last day of taking it slow, taking in some sights, unwinding from our trip, and enjoying some last few meals.

At this point we probably should have realized it all had gone too smoothly, but we were optimistically content in all this trip had entailed.

Our final bus pickup came at seven that night, for our 11pm flight. Our bags were loaded and we were ready. Then the driver said something in Spanish and we nodded our heads yes. Wait, what did he just say? Airport, right! No?

Apparently he was planning on taking us to a bus stop. We kept telling him, no, airport, and finally he conceded. I was just grateful that someone asked and questioned him before we headed out. It could have been bad.

Next I sat in the bus, watching the city rush hour, glad that we had plenty of time to get to the airport when I realized something was seriously wrong with a scene unfolding on the other side of the road. To this day we really aren’t quite sure what happened, but we all agreed that we witnessed a number of men with guns, taking a guy out of a car, pushing him in another car, then saw a few more men with guns waiving them around. Two cars drove off, and we all stood there with our noses glued to the window, watching shell-shocked. When we asked the bus driver what just happened he claimed the police were arresting a guy who was trying to steal a truck. The only problem was I never actually saw a police car, or identifiable policeman. Either way, I was grateful this happened on our way out to the airport and not on our way in from the airport.

Once in the airport we all started to check in, and waiting for our last person, when we experienced our next speed-bump. The airline couldn’t find his ticket. When they did finally find it, they showed his departure 24 hours later. When asked to move it to this flight they would only do it for a charge, and then they wouldn’t give him his connecting flight from Ft. Lauderdale to Dallas. It was so surreal and frustrating that this was the way the last part of the trip was going down. He decided to get on the flight to Ft Lauderdale, but once there he would have to purchase a new ticket to Dallas, and our flight was already full. Can you believe it? We were all quite upset for him!

Then came the final speed bump. We arrived in Florida and had an hour and 45 minutes to get through customs and to our next plane. It should be plenty of time, unless you are standing in a line that would take 1:15 to get through. They finally started to let a few of us cut the line since our flight had already started to board and we hadn’t gotten out bags, nor gone through two sets of security, nor rechecked our bags, and definitely hadn’ gotten the chance to ran to our terminal.

When we finally did get our chance, we used the buddy system and made a mad dash around the airport in true Amazing Race style. I was one of the first four people to get to the terminal, and the airline representative gave me one of the meanest looks when I refused to get on the plane and explained I was waiting for the other six people behind me. She then proceeded to make two final announcements that this was the final boarding, but I refused to walk on as I counted off each person who made it. Finally I saw the last two guys running down the terminal, and I was able to breathe a sigh of relief that at least nine of us were making this flight…. Not counting Chad we had to leave behind.

When we touched down in good ole Texas I was almost sad. Our epic trip had come to an end. It really was a trip of a lifetime. All the pain, exhaustion, sickness and challenges were worth it. Over this last week and a half I have looked back on the trip in awe. Wow… we did it. Wow, I got to see so very much. Wow… the pain was so very worth it, and surprisingly I would do it again in a heart beat.

Peru. It was real. It was fun. It was real fun…. And frickin’ amazing!

PS. We would later learn that Chad would get on a flight back to Texas that evening, so all 10 did end up making it back safely.

Machu Picchu Day 4 - This is it!

2011-07-18T07:10:00.001-05:00

I’ll be honest, I slept in my clothes. I didn’t want to fight with that while running around trying to get packed up and out of camp. The knock came at our tent at 3:45 and we were off. After packing, a quick breakfast, bathroom stop, we were then off to our final checkpoint before our final hike to the Sun Gate and Machu Picchu. I was feeling better, but I was still a little nervous of this last hike as we would need to be speedy so that we would make it in time for the sunrise.

In line, we waited for 40 minutes for them to open the checkpoint so that we would get a better chance of getting there on time. Anticipation built and I put on my game face. Once through the checkpoint, we were off. We literally ran up and down the trail for 45 minutes as we fought to keep up with Ricardo. I was not going to miss this. It was the last km that made me slow down as we headed up for our last hill. I came to a wall of stairs and ended up scaling them with my hands and feet. Just a little farther and I was amazed that we had made it to the Sun Gate. This was it. This was what we were waiting for, and I had made it!

The Sun Gate is this beautiful place where you get a clear shot of Machu Picchu from afar. We got to sit there for the next 40 minutes and watch the sun come over the mountain and shine down on this wonder of the world.

This was one of the coolest experiences as I got to just sit there and soak it in with my group. As I reflected back on the last three days I marveled at all I, or rather we had been through and I couldn’t help but notice all the pain, hardship and exhaustion melt away… making it all worth it.

Once we saw the sun rise over this lost city we had another 45 minute hike to get much closer. It was here we got to come into the city from above and get some quiet moments before the crowds rushed in. One of my favorite moments was when we walked upon a pack of llamas and got to take pictures with them, as well as pet them with the backdrop of this wonder.

On we traipsed through the terraces and hillsides of this lost city. The rest of the morning was climbing around the city, in between tourists, as Roger taught us lots. I couldn’t help but carry my backpack and walking sticks with a badge of honor at the fact that I had made the 4 day hike and most of these people had simply taken a train and bus ride to get here.

Once we had seen all we could, we finally said our last good bye. The majesty of Machu Picchu is far from captured through photography. This old city took over 400 years to build, and took great strength, art and craftsmanship. It is protectively placed between two mountain ranges, and functioned off the melted water from the glaciers above. This city was an elite city, where only the upper-class could come to, and held as many as seven religious temples within it. Ultimately the city was abandoned due to the Spanish conquistadors, and the decrease of water from the glaciers, making the discovery of it just 100 years ago remarkable.

As we jumped on the bus to take us down to the train, I actually got a little sad. It was over. The blood, sweat and tears of the last four days had come to a culmination and that was it. I almost didnt want to get on the bus. I didnt want it to end. I wanted a shower, but I didnt want to head back to the "real world."

Those four days had been a fresh breath of much thinner air to simplicity. I was going to miss the Inca Trail. I was going to miss Machu Picchu.

Machu Picchu Day 3 - The Looooongest Day

2011-07-15T07:08:00.002-05:00

I kept telling myself that since I had gotten through yesterday, this couldn’t be too bad. The only problem was I woke up nauseous and struggled to eat anything. Off we were up hill to cross over our second pass of the hike. This one would not be quite as high, but I hadnt forgetten the misery and pain of the day before. Today was going to be different I told myself. It had to be different.

We'd already been warned by Roger warned that after lunch we would be going down 3,000 Inca steps. Wait, did he say that right? Yes, 3000 steps!!! And these aren’t baby steps you fly down, no these are rocky steps that would take us over two hours to get down.

But focus… I first had to get over not one but two passes. Up, up, up we went, and I started to feel the nauseous growing stronger. After conquering the first pass, I set my sight on the second pass, when we came to a stop at an Inca ruin. I looked up the stairs and shuddered. It was then Roger suggested I stay down below and rest while the group went up to the Inca ruins. Relief flooded in at the idea of just getting to rest. About ten minutes later Ricardo, our assistant guide, graciously suggested I go ahead of the group and they would catch up. Again, a sense of relief at the chance to not have to be the one holding the group up, and the opportunity to make my way up slow and steady.

It would be in these moments of solitude that I would find myself alone on the trail able to breath in the beauty of God’s creation. Despite how miserable I felt, I made myself really soak it all in. I really haven’t mentioned the beauty that was all around us each day, mostly because words just feel too hollow to express all I saw. Even when looking at the pictures taken I was disappointed at how they failed to capture what I got to see.

The snow covered mountain peaks, the rocky paths, the moss covered trees, the beautifully unusual flowers, the birds, the waterfalls, the llamas and alpacas…. It never stops. There were so many things to take in. So many beautiful snapshots my mind got to take over these three days… despite the health obstacles I faced.

So climbing on I did. Praying that the Lord would help me get to the top of the pass, and that along the way I would not throw up. My dependence on the Lord was there. I knew I did not have the energy or strength to do this on my own and I cried out to him.

About 15 minutes from the top of the pass the group caught back up with me and I would find myself at the back of the pack again. We arrived at the top and I crashed on the sleeping pad the porters laid out for us to rest on while they finished making lunch.

It was at this point I realized just how bad I was feeling. I knew I needed to eat, but I could barely hold myself up at the table, and finally had to grab a sleeping pad, pull it into our lunch tent and sleep while the rest of the group ate. I would somehow muster down a small bowl of jello, and prayed during our siesta for the Lord to give me the strength I needed to get down the 3,000 steps still looming ahead.

Down, down, down we went. The good thing about going down is momentum takes you a lot farther then going up hill. By no means did I fly down like the porters carrying all our things. They literally ran down the 3,000 stairs and I would find myself staring as I watched them almost float down the mountain. The good news was the farther down I went, the better the nausea got, and the more I thought I could make it.

It was almost bittersweet coming into our last night of camp. We had converged at the campsite where all 500 other people on the trail had come, and the quietness of the wilderness was lost. This would be our last night before heading out for our last hike to Machu Picchu. Hard to believe that I had made it through the last three days, and I started to wonder if Machu Picchu could be worth all the excruciating pain my body was in.

This last night was filled with celebration as we thanked our porters for their amazing service, and celebrated the birthday of Michael, one of the guys in our group. With a 3:45 wake-up call we were ready to attempt a little sleep before our big day.

Machi Picchu Day Two - The Highest/Hardest Day

2011-07-14T07:32:00.000-05:00

I slept off and on throughout the night praying the Lord would heal me from whatever thsi was. When I woke up I as optimistic of my recovery. As Amber asked, so if you were 40% yesterday, where are you at today? 80% I’ll take it, but fear gripped me at the impending hike. We would be hiking uphill and over “Dead Woman’s Pass” our highest point in our hike at almost 14,000 feet. I was not the only one not feeling good. Chris had woken up lightheaded and was struggling with nauseous and energy as well.

Before leaving camp, we all grouped around and said a prayer for safety, protection, and finishing. Off we went. This time the trail was much less forgiving as most of it was uphill, rocky, and had various heights of Inca stairs. About two hours into the hike Amber grabbed my two water bottles to carry for me, then one of the guys offered to carry my bag for the third time. I finally accepted. I was already at the end of the pack, trying to keep up, but I could feel the energy draining out of me and I wondered what I had gotten myself into. If it was too late to turn back, and how on earth was I going to get over “Dead Woman’s Pass?”

Fast forward to two hours later, and Meghan and I found ourselves at the end of ourselves, inching up the mammoth mountain, fighting off exhaustion, lack of oxygen and nausea. We would push ourselves about 20 feet and then lean against the mountain gasping for air, fighting off sleep. I realize that 14,000 feet isn’t a whole lot to real hikers, but I got a glimpse of what “real” hikers fight when summiting a mountain. Roger was so very patient as we panted, gasped, moaned, and wondered out loud why we ever thought this was a good idea. The worst part was when I thought I saw the pass and had talked myself into getting to the top. It would be ten minutes later when I'd find out this was in fact as “fake” pass and the real one was a good 45 minutes to 1 hours farther up. Aughhhhhhh

I couldn’t stop though. If it took me all day, I was resolved to get over the mountain, and pray that some how on the other side it would be better. Meghan and I continued to spur one another on to go just a few more steps, only to come crashing down to the ground once we summitted. Thankfully due to the rest of my group taking pictures I have proof that I did make it!

After pictures, breathing, and sitting we were off again down the mountain. Going down in many ways was much easier, but ever step of the way I thanked God for my walking poles and fairly decent knees. Walking into our camp site that second night was a true miracle. I could have kissed the ground. A huge shout out to my group as they were so kind, compassionate, and literally carried my pack for me. It was humbling to be in this situation, and yet they were so very gracious in their kindness to me.

With the “hardest” day over, I was optimistic except I knew tomorrow would end up being our loooongest day. I just kept telling myself I'd made it halfway and there was no turning back.

Machu Picchu Survival! Day One

2011-07-12T10:47:00.000-05:00

I’m alive! I made it! I still keep pinching myself wondering if the last four days really happened, but the pictures don’t lie. I hiked the Inca Trail and lived to tell about it.

So without any further ado:
Day 1 – I woke up with anxiety at the looming 4 days. I realize I had signed myself up for it, but I started to get scared at how I was going to make it. See, I wanted to be strong, physically able, and not the last one, but my pride might get hurt through this.

I grabbed my very specifically weighed 6 kg bag the porters would carry, my backpack with all things necessary, and headed down to wait for our pickup at 5:30 am. Nerves were getting the best of me, but I just kept telling myself, act cool, act cool… be cool. Ya right.

We were off. Well, at least off in a bus for another 45 minute ride to the infamous KM 82, our starting point. Out of the bus, walking poles in hand, backpack strapped on, banana eaten, hiking boots tightened, sunscreen on… all that was left was to start. Nooooooooo.

We walked up to the first checkpoint where we showed out Inca Trail passes, got a cool stamp in our passport and had one last chance to run the other way. Our last group picture of us “before” under an Inca Trail sign and off we went.

Immediately we headed up a steep hill and five minutes into it I started to question all sense of my sanity. Huffing and puffing, trying to breathe… then we stopped. When we got to our stopping place I watched Roger, our guide, start chuckling at me. Oh, great! This was going to be a long four days…

It was at this point we had an “Inca” ceremony to honor the earth and ask for blessing on our trip. Our guide Roger is a part of the 2% of Peru that still practices old Inca traditions and religious ceremonies so this lead to an extremely unique experience. Part of the ceremony involved taking three coca leaves, putting a little llama fat in between the leaves, and then going to a place to “meditate” and put it under a rock. I took this moment to go and pray to God and ask for his protection, and thank him for this chance despite the impending doom.

The last part was less Inca ceremony, and more medicinal. He brought a potion made out of a special type of flower and combined with alcohol to create a “smell salt” that helped with nausea, headaches, and other high altitude symptoms. Roger went around and rubbed some of the solution on his hands, and then placed them over our nose and mouth to deeply in hale three times. Without fail all of us started coughing at the smell. The faces were priceless… and it really would end up helping many of us at different times during our hike. As Roger made sure to tell us many times, don’t worry it’s not addictive.

Now we were off for real, but this time the trail was not quite as steep. Thankfully I was able to keep up with the group, but sweat, and huff and puff I did.

We quickly learned a number of things on the trail:
1. Porters are amazing people in Peru. They are very similar to the “Sherpas” of the Himalayan mountains and quickly put me to shame. While walking on the trail we would hear people call “porter” and immediately had to move to the “mountain side” so they could run by us. The authentic porters only wore little sandals and would go running up hill on the rocky path.

2. People turn back. Before we even got to our lunch place we had passed three people who had to turn back on the trail do to sickness. One lady had gotten bad altitude sickness and had to come down on a mule. Another couple had to walk all the way back after the first day. Watching them built even more resolve to not turn back. I was going to do this

3. Siestas are amazing. I was shocked to learn that after lunch we were going to get a whole hour siesta. Wahoo…. And man did I ever take advantage of it.

We made it to camp by 3:30 that afternoon and I was so relieved to stumble in to our campsite. Yes, I was the last one, and yes I did not feel that great, but I was grateful to have one day down.

We then got to meet the 15 porters and 2 chefs that all came on this trip with us to support us. Who knew we were so high maintenance? What a sweet group of Peruvians who were so gracious and kind to us, as they all cheered us on as we arrived.

We unpacked our sleeping bags and then proceeded to just hang outside in the beautiful nature before tea time Then it hit me. I started to feel nauseous. I decided to lay down and take a little nap… and it got worse. By dinner time I felt horrible. I couldn’t fathom eating anything, and struggled to keep down what food I still had in my stomach. I skipped dinner, had some smelling salts, took some migraine medicine and prayed to God for a miraculous recovery. See, Day 2 is without a doubt the hardest day on the trail.

Next stop Sacred Valley… and so much more!

2011-07-07T06:14:00.000-05:00

It is amazing what a good night of sleep will do. This morning I woke up refreshed and ready to experience more of Peru. And man did we!

After separating my things out from those “necessary” and those things much less necessary I weighed my small porter duffle bag to discover I had somehow managed to put all my clothes, sleeping bag and mattress pad in the duffle bag and keep the weight under 6kg (13 pounds). That was good news because everything else I get to carry in my day bag.

Off we went on our mini bus for the day of adventures around the countryscape of Peru. First stop, another wonder of the world…. Well, maybe not the actual wonder of the world, but a cousin of it. On the hillside of Cusco sits a much smaller version of the Rio De Janerio’s Christ the Redeemer statue. It quickly became apparent that the Inca people are not very fond of it, but it was given to Peru as a gift from Brazil. Well, with seeing this statue we also got a breathtaking view of the city of Cusco and its amazing surroundings.

Next stop was a condor wildlife preserve. It would be here that we would learn our guide Roger is a devout Incan. What does that mean? I’m learning more hour by hour. At that moment we learned of the strong love and respect the Inca people have for the condor. He believes that when he dies the condor will pick his body apart and take it up to his “heaven.” So, with that there is a huge amount of respect for these massive birds. The wingspan on one of these is 10 feet long! As you can see, we got to get real close and personal. They really were beautiful birds. While there we also got to see Macaws, a Peruvian dog (which has no hair except on his tail and head), and pumas (which is what we would call cougars).

After that we headed into the mountains of Peru, winding up and down, over paved roads and dirt roads and washed out roads. But the view and beauty was breathless. I look back at my pictures and they do little justice to the magnificent glory of God seen in this land.

Off the beaten path… literally… we came to visit an authentic Peruvian village where we got to see the women die their llama and alpaca wool various colors, spin it and weave it into beautiful hats, scarves, socks, mittens, sweaters and more. It was a privilege to get to experience this little glimpse into their way of life. It was also here that I learned something very important. A Llama and an Alpaca are not the same. Who knew? So, to correct the great blunder of my last blog post, I took a real picture with a llama. The previous picture was of me with an alpaca. Oops.

All of this and we still had another stop before lunch. This time we went to some old Inca ruins literally on the side of a mountain. We not only got to see the ruins from below but we also got to climb to the top of them. That was the first real test of strength, stamina and climbing for me. I’d like to say I passed with flying colors, but I can say I did make it to the top.

By the end of that we were all ready for lunch! And man did we get to eat a lot of food. We stopped at an all-you-can-eat buffet Peruvian style. It was delicious and an there was an abundance of amazing food. Best of all I got to try some delicious desserts. After enjoying such a big meal I didn’t want to get up and move. A siesta sounded mighty fine.

Then we were off for another hour long drive through the landscape and came upon the village we would be spending the night in. But before stopping there we headed to one more Inca site. And yes it was on the side of a mountain, and yes we had to climb to the top, and yes I made it… barely. What I really mean is I have a new found appreciation for oxygen.

So, when our guide dropped us off at our hotel for the night at 3:30pm none of us were complaining. Rather we all ran to our rooms to get the much wished for siesta. The reality of the hike has really started to set in. Tomorrow we are off on our first day of hiking. I still have a few trepidations, but I can honestly say I can’t imagine a better group of people to get to climb this sucker with.

Today we head off to our first day of hiking, so the next time you hear from me I will hopefully have finished climbing Machu Picchu!

Cusco… We’ve Arrived!

2011-07-06T06:58:00.000-05:00

Yup 5 am came way sooner then desired. After groggily waking up, shoving my stuff into my bag and stumbling down the stairs we walked upon breakfast. Remember how I said our philosophy was to have low or no expectations? Well, that barely worked for breakfast. As we walked around I realized on the menu was slices of white bread, butter, jam, orange juice, and some yogurt drink… just a little bit wanting.

But never fail, we found the tea! Mate de Coca. I was so excited to try it, but the smell was rather strong and “earthy.” Don’t worry it didn’t stop me from drinking it but the flavor is less then enticing.

Then we were off to the airport for our 8 am flight to Cusco…. Once in the airport we all loaded up with water and prepared for another flight. But considering my extremely low expectations this flight blew me out of the water! The seats were roomier, the flight attendants actually offered drinks, and wait for it… wait for it... Peruvian snacks, which were delicious.

But the best part of the whole flight was the amazing scenery we saw throughout our flight. The whole time I couldn’t help but stare out the window and comment on how beautiful the mountains, fog, and snow was. It’s hard to believe that in two days we will be hiking those mountains… augh!

But I digress. We arrived safely, got to our hotel (which once again exceeded expectations), had a quick debrief where we were served another cu of coca tea and told to take it “easy.” Then we were left to ourselves. We were given the whole day to explore the old part of Cusco. I was completely amazed. So many beautiful buildings, mountains, people and streets.

Hungry, we headed off to our first big lunch at the Inca Grill were I got to eat… wait I will tell you soon. I just want to share that after just one day in Cusco I can now say I’ve take a picture with an alpaca, bought a blanket made by it’s wool, and yes…. even eaten one, well a piece of one!

The food we had was amazing for our first real Peruvian meal and everyone was excited to share with each other their dishes.

After being well fed we headed out again for our “taking it easy” day around Cusco. We ended up walking all over and got to see some amazing little streets, barter our way to some cool souvenirs and end the night in sheer exhaustion. We did get to meet our Inca trail guide and found out he has taken the trail 208 times over the course of his life. That is amazing!

Now, I’m off to get my first REAL night of sleep. It is very likely that tonight I’ll get more sleep then I have gotten over the previous two nights. Bed here I come!

PS. Did I mention how much I love llamas (aka alpacas)? They really are so cool!

Getting To Lima....

2011-07-05T05:21:00.001-05:00

Spirit… yes we need spirit to travel, but I’m debating if I need them to fly me anywhere else in the future. Don’t get me wrong, I’m ever so grateful for our ridiculously amazingly priced plane tickets to Peru…. But I have also now be able to add worst plane seats... leading to worst plane ride ever… and that was only based on a 2 ½ hr flight that got me to Ft. Lauderdale.

It would not be until my flight to Lima that the kind Peruvian man next to me shared some words of wisdom. “People only fly Spirit to Peru when they’re 1. broke or 2. have no idea what they have gotten themselves into.” Sounds about right!

The second flight was actually an upgrade as these chairs actually reclined a whole two inches back. But there was no where for me to put my legs. I literally was wedged in between seats, and a window with no ability to move at all. As the reality of a 5 ½ hour flight started to set in, I seriously questioned my ability to retain my sanity.

And then someone took pity upon me. The flight attendant looked at me and told me to grab my bag and run up to row 4. Row 4… my beacon of light and sanity. I pulled and pulled and pulled to get my bag out from under my seat, and then went charging down the aisle from the last row in the plane all the way to my new seat assignment at the very front. Not only did this row have WAY more leg room, but there was no one else sitting in the row. Thank you God for your gracious provision.

Needless to say, this blog post does mean that all ten of us made it to Lima, Peru.

But let me back up and give a little more insight on how we got there. Four in the morning all ten of us were dropped off at the airport,,, groggily wondering why we were doing it. Once in Ft Lauderdale we considered our options. They were few and far between. So, our time was spent playing an ultimate game of nerts, and then taking a nap on the airport floor. If all those germs don’t kill me then they definitely have to be making me stronger.

We had our first team meeting as not everyone knew each other, but I can tell you, I already really like this group. When talking about expectations on the trip it quickly became apparently that no one had any expectations. Let me just say, that certainly makes travel a lot easier when we set our standards low… and our first hotel FAR exceeded our expectations. Actually for a minute I didn’t even believe it was our hotel. Our hotel was supposed to be 3 start, hostel like place. This looked swanky.

Now off to bed for a quick nap, as we were just told by our tour company that they “suggest” we wake up at 5 am, so we can head out for the day. I have a feeling their “suggestions” are pretty important.

Off to sleep with our window open, and a cool breeze coming in…. man this sure beats 101 degree Dallas weather.

Peru's Top Ten List

2011-07-04T09:32:00.000-05:00

And we are off.... at 3:30 in the MORNING we drove away from the house and headed to the airport. I cant even believe the time has finally come and the TEN of us will be going on a trip of a lifetime.

But as with all trips, there always a list of things I want to do. And this is no exception:

1. Try a Peruvian delicacy - Cuy. Also known as Guinea Pig. I know. It sounds horrible, but it's a specialty of Peru, specifically Cusco, so I really feel like it's only proper to try it. I mean, even National Geographic has listed it on a top ten list of foods to try in Peru. I'll let you know if it tastes like chicken.

2. Pet a Llama. I really wanted to ride a llama, but early on in this trip planning a travel agent kindly told me that llamas are not to be ridden by humans. Shoot.... so, the next best thing... pet it.

3. Buy something Llama-ish - Apparently there are all sorts of goods made out of llama wool. How cool is that?

4. Not go crazy at the airport – We will be arriving at the Ft. Lauderdale airport at 9:30 in the morning, and not leaving till 5:30. That is SEVEN hours in the airport.... I can only imagine how stir crazy I might get, but it’s all part of the fun of travel.

5. Get through the trip with NO High Altitude Sickness. I think I thoroughly freaked myself out with all my google search as I tried to see what I could do to prevent it. So, this leads me to the next one...

6. Drink some Mate de Coca - also known as Coca tea. It is a local recommendation for high altitude. I will not even tell you what the tea is made of, but just lets say, it brings the whole idea of “when in Rome do as the Romans” to a unique understanding. Don’t forget that we drink Coca-cola and it has the same ingredients as the tea.

7. Stay dry. I've been told by many that it is notoriously wet, rainy, and misty up in the mountains. I've taken up the challenge to travel with my camera, but as you know water and camera do not mix. I've prepared with lots of water-proof... hopefully all goes well.

8. Pack way less then 40 lbs. We have a weight limit on our flight to Peru, but that doesn’t bother me. It's the stuff I'll be taking with me on my hike that I want to keep to a minimum. For all my traveling you would think I'd become stellar at packing... far from it. Instead I tend to over-pack in a desperate attempt to be as prepared as possible for ALL situations. I might not be a boy scout, but I sure love their motto.

9. See the ocean. We will be in Lima for 2 days, and it is apparently right on the coast. I always love seeing the ocean in different countries... this would be no exception.

10. Hike Machu Picchu - the whole reason I’m even going!

One week till a potential Peruvian death...

2011-06-27T08:16:00.000-05:00

We all are going to die one day, but I have a feeling my day might come sooner then later....and most probably in Peru.

Okay, I realize I’m being a little dramatic but it’s what keeps running through my mind. Everyone keeps asking if I’m ready for this trip... quickly impending in one week. The first word... anxious. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve heard of many more horror stories then clean successes, or the fact that my training has been... well non-existent (Pilates class once a week just doesn’t quite prepare you). Either way... I’m anxious.

I’m hopeful that I’ll get through the 4 day hike, but I am under no such delusion of it being easy. In fact I’m pretty sure this will be one of the most physically demanding things I’ll ever have done. Before this challenge it probably was the Muddy Buddy two years ago... and that race lasted 3ish hours and seven miles.

This will be a daily “walk” with the Lord for strength and sustenance. I’ve already resolved myself to the fact that I just want to pace myself and finish. I do not even care if I’m last. Yes, I realize this isn’t a race, but who am I kidding, no one likes to e last. But I’m counting on the fact that I’ll be bringing up the rear. If there are others there to join me, great... but either way I doubt I’ll experience any of the “leader of the pack” when physically hiking.

So, in one week I start this ridiculous adventure I only have Donald Miller to blame for. 18 months ago I’d never heard of Machu Pichu much less had any idea of what the 7 Wonders of the World were. Then Mr Miller had to go writing in his book about his climb and I had to go visit the first Wonder of the World. I’m not even sure how I found it.... because in truth it feels like it found me.

With one week left, how did I decide to prepare? I hiked. Yes, people, believe it or not, I actually strapped on my boots and hiked. But more importantly we all went to eat Peruvian food at a little place called.... what else, but Machu Pichu! And did we ever eat!

I am now officially able to add two more things to my list of unusual food. Are you ready for them?

1. Seaweed – might not seem too strange to you, but for me, this was brand spankin new. We got Ceviche and apparently the “authentic” Peruvian ceviche included seaweed. I’m also used to ceviche meaning shrimp, but this was raw fish. Another new try for me. All in all it was surprisingly enjoyable.

2. Cow heart – yup you read that right. I had no intentions of trying this delicacy, or even knowing it was a Peruvian delicacy, but upon laying my eyes upon this menu item I couldn’t help but want to try it... simply for the fact to be able to say, I’ve had cow heart. It came on kebobs so if I hadnt known better I would have just thought it was beef on a stick. It was surprisingly good, though my breaking point came on my last piece of meat, when I was able to make the top ventricle of the heart out. Done.

One week, seven days, 40 lbs of packing space, one borrowed sleeping bag, a good rain coat, three water bottles and some purification tablets. Machu Pichu here I come... Please don’t dominate me....

Mexico: Our Last Day

2011-06-20T07:28:00.000-05:00

It’s a little late, but at least I still wrote about it. I wanted to finish up our trip as the last day was far from uneventful and I’d hate for you to have a partial view of our fun.

Kayaking

The one thing I’d been wanting to do since we got there and Katina was up for the adventure. Kayaking is this “sport” that I have inadvertently fallen in love with. It’s a chance to experience nature in a whole new way… out on the water. I always end up sopping wet (which probably means I’m doing something seriously wrong), but I love it. So, I got to add the ocean to my random list of other places I’ve kayaked (the Hudson river – off the coast of Manhattan, and a lake outside of Austin… an impressively long list…I know).

The strange thing about kayaking in the ocean was eventually we’d find ourselves pulled back into the coast. We’d paddle and paddle and paddle and paddle… and rest… and see the shore right there again. I’d keep thinking we were getting deep, but whenever I checked I could always touch the bottom with my paddle. We did get to see some fish, and Katina swears we saw a baby shark. I’m not going to lie, I was doubtful until I saw it close by and started to wonder….

The Beach

It might sound simplistically, but I couldn’t help and just sit and enjoy the beach our last day. It truly is relaxing laying there under a palm tree with the ocean lapping up on the beach. There better be a beach in heaven… all I got to say.

Hibachi Grill

I know… how authentic can a Hibachi grill really be in on the coast of Mexico? But, it was a ton of fun. We got to watch a fun show for our last night with lots of fire, and the best part…. Lots of good yummy food.

Jumping

Unplanned by us, we walked away from our trip with a plethora of random pictures. Our last night we walked down the beach, way far down to this beautiful little pier with a hut at the end. If it hadnt been dark we might have jumped into the ocean, so instead we jumped and took lots of funny pictures.

The Key

To finish off our last night we had planned to crash in our room watch the last game of the NBA finals and order room service. Yes I realize we had already eaten dinner, but we had to try room service to make sure we got our money’s worth. So, after we placed a call for late night pizza, Katina asked the dreaded question… so where’s the key?

The key is not just any key. It is not the generic hotel room key, or even the towel key cards we were given, but rather the safety deposit key we were given and when given were told that if we lost it, we would be charged $80!!! Not what I wanted to spend my money on for this trip. So, the whole week I meticulously kept it in a specific bag, while locking our passports, computer and other things away. I had seen it every day, and remembered specifically unlocking the safe that morning…. But not locking it after since we were in and out of the room. Imagine my surprise when I went to the safe and realized it was LOCKED!

Crap where did I put the key? Had I forgotten I had locked it? Who did? Why did I not know where it was? And through the room we started to go. All three of us proceeded to go through each of our own things, and then through each other’s stuff in a desperate attempt to find this key. By the time the NBA game had been won, Go Mavs, I had given up all hope. The key was not in the room.

This was when I realized I would be walking away from Mexico with a large unexpected souvenir… a key to a safe in a room in Mexico that I would never get to use again.

I finally called the front desk and made one last plea… any chance someone found the key and dropped it off? Pretty please? Cause otherwise we were going to have to have a locksmith come in the morning, in time for us to get our passports out of the safe to make our flight the next morning.

The lady listened patiently, said she would look, and I sat there doubting and counting the $80 out. Then she came on… the maid had found the key, and their policy was when they saw the key sitting out and the safe open, they lock the safe and take it to the front desk. OUGH!!! I’m so glad no one ever TOLD us this policy. It would have been really nice to know. But honestly, I didn’t even care. I just found the key and got to keep my $80. Can you tell how excited I am about this key?

So, see our last day was far from dull. And despite the key I still flew away having thoroughly enjoyed Mexico and all its beaches had to offer.