Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
I often wonder “What if?” about many things in my life. I’m sure to some extent we all do. I look back on choices that I made and that I didn’t make and I wonder what my life would look like right now, if certain things had and hadn’t happened.
For sure I am not the first person to ever wonder this, nor will I be the last. But, for someone who loves KY as much as I do, it’s easy for me to sit back and try and imagine what my life would have been like if I had never left.
I first left The County in high school. Of course I had been out of the county and out of the state in the past—but that was the first time I had ever left the country. I can remember what it felt like to sit and imagine how far away from home that my friends and I were, and I remember thinking about how all of my friends at home would have loved to be there as well. I was lucky to be able to take two international trips during high school, and I was hooked.
I was lucky to meet the Summays in high school and was also lucky to attend a church where international missions, or at least mission trips, were possible. The summer after my freshman year of college I was sitting on a plane bound for post-war Bosnia—and didn’t have a clue about where I was going or what I was getting in to. After that whirlwind love at first sight trip to Bosnia—I wound up going back four more times, and each time I tried to stay longer and longer.
I came to Japan in the fall of 2006, spent a year here, went home, and now here I am again. My time here has been crazy to say the least, and I never thought I would be here teaching a school after my first year here was finished. Life is amazing.
All in all I guess I have traveled abroad on 10 separate international trips since I was 16 years old—quite a bit considering that I am 27 at this moment in time. I’m not sure how many countries I have been in—with a quick count I come up with about 20.
I say that not to brag—because for sure I have been blessed to be able to have seen as much as I have. I say that only to reinforce to myself why it is that I look at the world the way I do. I can remember being in Europe that first time and really realizing that there was a world outside of Scott County—and it was going on all the same at the same when I was back home—even if I didn’t know about it at the time. There were people like me, with friends like me, who laughed and cried like me, who loved their mom and dad like me, who talked like me and who didn't talk like me, who loved the sunshine like me, and who lived and died like me—I just had never thought about them before.
I wonder what would DH look like if he had never left Scott County—never left for any significant period of time anyway. What would he believe and where would he be? Would he be years into his chosen field? Perhaps he would be a doctor or a stockbroker or a preacher. Would he be married with children of his own? Would he have a small house somewhere in Georgetown with a mortgage and a car payment? Would he be an alcoholic who is jobless who dreams of something bigger all day? I guess we will never know.
For sure our experiences, both good and bad, make us who we are today. I wouldn't have the views that I have if I had gone another route. I can’t hear someone talk about war without thinking about the horror and damage done to Kemo’s family. I can’t talk about Muslims without thinking about Sega and Sevda and how much love they have shown me and they continue to show my friends. I can’t think about Buddhists and Japs without seeing the faces of all of my smiling and laughing kids who want the same things out of life that their American counterparts do. I can’t eat a club sandwich without thinking about that one that I had in Dublin that I’m sure I never will be able to recreate. I can’t drink a German style beer and not think about backpacking with my sister through Germany and sitting with her in the lobby of the Sunflower Hostel as we both wrote in our journals and I sipped on some Berliner Pilsner. I can’t eat a hamburger and not think about all of the amazingly tasty ones that I ate on the porch of The Summatarium in the late summer.
Where would I be if I had gone another route? What would the DH look like who walked down a different road? I don’t know—and honestly, now I don’t care too much.
I kinda like the way I’ve turned out so far.
For sure I am not the first person to ever wonder this, nor will I be the last. But, for someone who loves KY as much as I do, it’s easy for me to sit back and try and imagine what my life would have been like if I had never left.
I first left The County in high school. Of course I had been out of the county and out of the state in the past—but that was the first time I had ever left the country. I can remember what it felt like to sit and imagine how far away from home that my friends and I were, and I remember thinking about how all of my friends at home would have loved to be there as well. I was lucky to be able to take two international trips during high school, and I was hooked.
I was lucky to meet the Summays in high school and was also lucky to attend a church where international missions, or at least mission trips, were possible. The summer after my freshman year of college I was sitting on a plane bound for post-war Bosnia—and didn’t have a clue about where I was going or what I was getting in to. After that whirlwind love at first sight trip to Bosnia—I wound up going back four more times, and each time I tried to stay longer and longer.
I came to Japan in the fall of 2006, spent a year here, went home, and now here I am again. My time here has been crazy to say the least, and I never thought I would be here teaching a school after my first year here was finished. Life is amazing.
All in all I guess I have traveled abroad on 10 separate international trips since I was 16 years old—quite a bit considering that I am 27 at this moment in time. I’m not sure how many countries I have been in—with a quick count I come up with about 20.
I say that not to brag—because for sure I have been blessed to be able to have seen as much as I have. I say that only to reinforce to myself why it is that I look at the world the way I do. I can remember being in Europe that first time and really realizing that there was a world outside of Scott County—and it was going on all the same at the same when I was back home—even if I didn’t know about it at the time. There were people like me, with friends like me, who laughed and cried like me, who loved their mom and dad like me, who talked like me and who didn't talk like me, who loved the sunshine like me, and who lived and died like me—I just had never thought about them before.
I wonder what would DH look like if he had never left Scott County—never left for any significant period of time anyway. What would he believe and where would he be? Would he be years into his chosen field? Perhaps he would be a doctor or a stockbroker or a preacher. Would he be married with children of his own? Would he have a small house somewhere in Georgetown with a mortgage and a car payment? Would he be an alcoholic who is jobless who dreams of something bigger all day? I guess we will never know.
For sure our experiences, both good and bad, make us who we are today. I wouldn't have the views that I have if I had gone another route. I can’t hear someone talk about war without thinking about the horror and damage done to Kemo’s family. I can’t talk about Muslims without thinking about Sega and Sevda and how much love they have shown me and they continue to show my friends. I can’t think about Buddhists and Japs without seeing the faces of all of my smiling and laughing kids who want the same things out of life that their American counterparts do. I can’t eat a club sandwich without thinking about that one that I had in Dublin that I’m sure I never will be able to recreate. I can’t drink a German style beer and not think about backpacking with my sister through Germany and sitting with her in the lobby of the Sunflower Hostel as we both wrote in our journals and I sipped on some Berliner Pilsner. I can’t eat a hamburger and not think about all of the amazingly tasty ones that I ate on the porch of The Summatarium in the late summer.
Where would I be if I had gone another route? What would the DH look like who walked down a different road? I don’t know—and honestly, now I don’t care too much.
I kinda like the way I’ve turned out so far.
Monday, April 20, 2009
What can we do to separate our core Christian values from the human instinct of self-preservation? I guess what I am trying to ask is: Why do we as Christians feel that we have the right to safety for us and our families? The more I try to understand what Jesus really wants for us—the more I come the conclusion that our physical and emotional well-being—and that of our families—is no guarantee for those that follow Christ.
When we as a people and as a nation are attacked—we feel that we must punish the offender. When someone appears to be a threat to us—we feel that it is in our best interest to neutralize and prevent that threat. If people don’t agree with us, or our way of thinking, we feel that it is ok to tell them to “get the hell out of this country if they don’t like it.”
As Christians, do you think that we are entitled to anything—even basic security? If we are truly following God with all that we have—doesn’t that inherently require us to risk everything that we have for His sake?
Have we as Christian-Americans become so deeply rooted and attached to being American that we view what it really means to be a Christ follower in the context of what it means to be a “good American?” Shouldn’t we look at our identity as Americans and what that really means from the framework of someone who is 100% devoted to the teachings of Jesus?
When we as a people and as a nation are attacked—we feel that we must punish the offender. When someone appears to be a threat to us—we feel that it is in our best interest to neutralize and prevent that threat. If people don’t agree with us, or our way of thinking, we feel that it is ok to tell them to “get the hell out of this country if they don’t like it.”
As Christians, do you think that we are entitled to anything—even basic security? If we are truly following God with all that we have—doesn’t that inherently require us to risk everything that we have for His sake?
Have we as Christian-Americans become so deeply rooted and attached to being American that we view what it really means to be a Christ follower in the context of what it means to be a “good American?” Shouldn’t we look at our identity as Americans and what that really means from the framework of someone who is 100% devoted to the teachings of Jesus?
Monday, April 13, 2009
Had an awesome day of sunshine, riding by bike around town and down by the river while listening to Perry Noble bring the Word! Check him out if you haven't already.
This weekend was a really good renewing for the Soul. Colored Easter eggs with Michi and her family for the first time.
Cleaned off the back porch here (tiny as it may be) and got a chair set up where I can watch the sun slip down behind the mountains.
I challenge someone to sit out here with me and tell me God doesn't exist.
This weekend was a really good renewing for the Soul. Colored Easter eggs with Michi and her family for the first time.
Cleaned off the back porch here (tiny as it may be) and got a chair set up where I can watch the sun slip down behind the mountains.
I challenge someone to sit out here with me and tell me God doesn't exist.
Friday, April 10, 2009
I updated my facebook status yesterday like I do several times a day. Yesterday I was thinking about the nation of Isreal and why so many Christians feel that they and America must back Isreal in everything that they say and do. I updated my status and a debate was sparked--even if it had nothing to do with what I originally wrote about.
I do want to say that I am impressed by the way that the discussion was had with no personal attacks to people getting angry. I think that one of the main obstacles to having a good meaningful conversation these days is that people get so worked up and feel that their beliefs are being attacked--or that those with opposing views must be converted here and now! I thank all of the commenters for their insight and level headedness.
Whenever we look at an issue or formulate our opinions about something, we can only use our own experiences and background to help us mold how we feel. Without getting too existential, I do want to point out that no one can look at at topic the same way YOU do--and we all feel like our own experiences give us special insight into a situation. You cannot understand Japan in the same way that I do, nor can I understand what it means to be a single parent. Maybe with more of this attitude, we can hear others out before automatically labeling their points of view "dumb".
The issue that Kermie brought up was of course a natural extension of my original question, being, "Why do Christians feel that they must like ______?"
I do feel that for many years we as "the church" got it so wrong--and for sure we have a long way to go. For me, I have a hard time singing "God Bless the USA" and "I'm Proud to be an American!" after I read more and more about what Jesus called us to be. For sure we have done a lot to help the world---But do our good deeds in Africa cover up our failure to act during Rwanda? Can we ever weigh good deeds against the bad and come out on top? Who judges what is the end good? Is the proliferation of the US way of life good for people and the planet? These are just the tip of the iceberg...
For sure we are a generation that won't stand for the "old time religion" and one that allows us to subcribe to beliefs that don't require action or sacrifice.
But back to the start-- I will say loud and clear that I don't support Isreal any more than I support India, Pakistan, France, the UK, China, North Korea or Iran. Why do they get a free pass in a world of nuclear proliferation?
I do want to say that I am impressed by the way that the discussion was had with no personal attacks to people getting angry. I think that one of the main obstacles to having a good meaningful conversation these days is that people get so worked up and feel that their beliefs are being attacked--or that those with opposing views must be converted here and now! I thank all of the commenters for their insight and level headedness.
Whenever we look at an issue or formulate our opinions about something, we can only use our own experiences and background to help us mold how we feel. Without getting too existential, I do want to point out that no one can look at at topic the same way YOU do--and we all feel like our own experiences give us special insight into a situation. You cannot understand Japan in the same way that I do, nor can I understand what it means to be a single parent. Maybe with more of this attitude, we can hear others out before automatically labeling their points of view "dumb".
The issue that Kermie brought up was of course a natural extension of my original question, being, "Why do Christians feel that they must like ______?"
I do feel that for many years we as "the church" got it so wrong--and for sure we have a long way to go. For me, I have a hard time singing "God Bless the USA" and "I'm Proud to be an American!" after I read more and more about what Jesus called us to be. For sure we have done a lot to help the world---But do our good deeds in Africa cover up our failure to act during Rwanda? Can we ever weigh good deeds against the bad and come out on top? Who judges what is the end good? Is the proliferation of the US way of life good for people and the planet? These are just the tip of the iceberg...
For sure we are a generation that won't stand for the "old time religion" and one that allows us to subcribe to beliefs that don't require action or sacrifice.
But back to the start-- I will say loud and clear that I don't support Isreal any more than I support India, Pakistan, France, the UK, China, North Korea or Iran. Why do they get a free pass in a world of nuclear proliferation?
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Some spiritual Heavyweights talking about Satan
If you haven't watched the whole thing yet, you need to--here is my favorite segment.
Content
The spring semester has started. Here in Japan we start the New Year from April, so that means that all the students have just changed grades. We graduated our old students from the Junior High in March, and we have a French bunch of first graders who started today. I had them as students when they were in elementary school as well; so most of them know me more than all of the other teachers in the school. It’s going to be a fun year for sure.
Here some of the teachers change each year as well. They move from school to school and sometimes district to district. It is nice to go to a school that I don’t frequent very often and see some familiar faces.
This weekend I have a mandatory school day on Saturday and then a mandatory teachers party with the PTA after school. The teachers’ parties are usually pretty fun and consist of me being the novelty for all of the fathers to talk US sports with and the mothers to get a change to talk to an American guy. The downside is that I have to pay $60 to attend. I don’t know about you—but I can stretch $60 pretty far in the US!!
I am getting older. I looked at pictures that Michi took of me when we were in Okinawa and one thing is for sure—I’m not as young as I used to be. I notice that my hairline is farther back, I have a double chin and that I find myself wearing the same clothes that I wore in college. How I used to be in style! Now I am content to wear the same pair of cargo shorts and t-shirts for the rest of my life. I have fallen in love with Chaco sandals. If I could wear them instead of shoes the rest of my life year round and not freeze to death—I surely would. That, or go barefoot. We went hiking in Okinawa and a guide insisted that I wear these shoes that our hotel provided. I said no way; I would stick with my sandals. He was really worried until I heard Michi tell him in Japanese, “Don’t worry about him. In America he’s from the country. He and his friends walk around without shoes all the time.” And all this time I have been trying to get rid of that Kentucky stereotype! Oh well, I guess I really do like to be barefoot.
I have been really enjoying renewed relationships with old friends. Even though I am in a remote area in a country on the other side of the world, I am pretty connected. I have been having some great spiritual talks with guys that are older than me that I really respect—Bow and Coat to name two. Never underestimate the impact that good advice can have on your life if you take the time to implement it.
The spring has brought a renewed freshness to my life. The sun on the mountains today is perhaps on of the most beautiful sights that I have ever seen. There are some days here when I feel like I could board a plane and go home right away—and others where I feel like I could look at the mountains for years. I think one thing that I have learned in all of my travels is that we have the ability to be happy and content wherever we are.
Being content is one thing that I am really working on lately. I think that many people in the world, especially in the US—struggle with being really content. I sat down the other day and was thinking—really, I have everything that I want. I didn’t say that I have everything that I need, but I really do have everything that I want. I tried to really think of things that I really want—but I can’t come up with too much.
Here some of the teachers change each year as well. They move from school to school and sometimes district to district. It is nice to go to a school that I don’t frequent very often and see some familiar faces.
This weekend I have a mandatory school day on Saturday and then a mandatory teachers party with the PTA after school. The teachers’ parties are usually pretty fun and consist of me being the novelty for all of the fathers to talk US sports with and the mothers to get a change to talk to an American guy. The downside is that I have to pay $60 to attend. I don’t know about you—but I can stretch $60 pretty far in the US!!
I am getting older. I looked at pictures that Michi took of me when we were in Okinawa and one thing is for sure—I’m not as young as I used to be. I notice that my hairline is farther back, I have a double chin and that I find myself wearing the same clothes that I wore in college. How I used to be in style! Now I am content to wear the same pair of cargo shorts and t-shirts for the rest of my life. I have fallen in love with Chaco sandals. If I could wear them instead of shoes the rest of my life year round and not freeze to death—I surely would. That, or go barefoot. We went hiking in Okinawa and a guide insisted that I wear these shoes that our hotel provided. I said no way; I would stick with my sandals. He was really worried until I heard Michi tell him in Japanese, “Don’t worry about him. In America he’s from the country. He and his friends walk around without shoes all the time.” And all this time I have been trying to get rid of that Kentucky stereotype! Oh well, I guess I really do like to be barefoot.
I have been really enjoying renewed relationships with old friends. Even though I am in a remote area in a country on the other side of the world, I am pretty connected. I have been having some great spiritual talks with guys that are older than me that I really respect—Bow and Coat to name two. Never underestimate the impact that good advice can have on your life if you take the time to implement it.
The spring has brought a renewed freshness to my life. The sun on the mountains today is perhaps on of the most beautiful sights that I have ever seen. There are some days here when I feel like I could board a plane and go home right away—and others where I feel like I could look at the mountains for years. I think one thing that I have learned in all of my travels is that we have the ability to be happy and content wherever we are.
Being content is one thing that I am really working on lately. I think that many people in the world, especially in the US—struggle with being really content. I sat down the other day and was thinking—really, I have everything that I want. I didn’t say that I have everything that I need, but I really do have everything that I want. I tried to really think of things that I really want—but I can’t come up with too much.
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