Snow, Stacy, Shame

Today I walked from our apartment to Prince Street Café to meet Pearl. As I walked through our city the crisp fall air was life giving and some of the old familiar sites, such as the record store and central market were like old friends saying hello along the walk.

But there were also some new sights for today’s walk.

Like fall leaves encased in snow! Yes, like 4” of snow in October! I guess there’s a first for everything.

The other new sight, and also the source of motivation for this post, was found not in excitement or adventure, but rather in shame and embarrassment.

Here’s the story.

Today was a full morning at church, a great morning, but as I walked to my car my feet moved a little slower and my energy was not at its highest point. I crawled in the car, used the wipers to knock some of the snow off the windshield that had slid from the sun warmed roof, and drove to the apartment. As I pulled into the parking lot, I planned to park the car, grab my computer bag from the back seat, and walk to meet Pearl.

As the car pulled into the spot, I could see in the alley at the end of the parking lot a local man working his wheel chair up the alley. His head hung to the side like someone hung over (literally), his movements were slow yet jerky. He appeared to be homeless or near to it. He had frizzy long blond hair and looked like he needed a bath.

The car pulled to a stop, and so did his movements. I could see him from the corner of my eye. He paused his inclined climb and looked at my car. I felt like he was looking straight into me.

I decided I was tired, I was already dealing with a tough conversation I knew was on the horizon, the weight of the afternoon's school work was on me, I was tired, moody, and just frankly not in the mental place to deal with a homeless man looking for a hand out, a cigarette, or some cash. I just wanted to be left alone.

So I decided to ignore him. To just sit in my car acting like I was busy. I returned text messages, looked at home emails. I noticed he was no longer in the alley but actually rolling towards the car! I hoped he was simply rolling through our parking lot to the main street on the other side. So in my attempt to avoid and ignore him I decided to check my church email, surely there was an email there I could work on as my Sunday afternoon annoyance rolled past.

He rolled to the car.

Stopped.

Waited.

I ran out of emails.

He was a persistent little man.

I decided I would just have to face him, say no to whatever he wanted from me and then be on my way…to do my seminary homework.

I opened the door and forced myself to smile at him and say good afternoon.

His voice made my soul cower in shame. His voice shared he had a head injury of some sort. Whether from life or birth, either way he spoke not as the 40 year old weathered man he appeared to be but as that of a simple child.

A child who heard a car with a whistling sound coming from it.

A child who knew good deeds were done by telling strangers it sounded like their tire had a hole in it.

A child who knew his good news would be worth the sacrifice of his time to patiently wait to tell this hurried driver about his tire.

This man child’s name is Stacy. We shook hands. Talked about the weird sounds our aging car now makes. Then talked football, how his team is doing, if I’m watching the Eagles vs. Dallas game and other football talk.

He then wished me well with my school work and that the team I’m rooting for would win.

I did the same for him.

I turned to walk towards the coffee shop and he rolled back to the alley.

So today, as I walked past unseasonably early snow banks with fall leaves mixed within, I was reminded that God has unseasonable ways of reminding me he loves all, accepts all, and expects me to do the same.

God thank you for the Stacy’s of the world who surprise us with their life, their love, and remind us of your love for us.

half.... glass

I'm realizing that life has a way of throwing nasty curve balls at us all. But if an experienced hitter is at the plate and sees the signs of the coming pitch soon enough they can adjust their swing and turn a nasty curve into a beautiful hit.

I think I see a nasty curve coming my way. "I think" being the key word. I'm not sure what the pitch may be, I just know something's coming. Something that I'll either adapt to in time to hit or swing at miserably for a strike.

Yesterday we got a phone call...

one of those calls.

A call that deals with the health of loved ones.

Some test are in, some options are starting to be on the table, something is about to happen.

BUT WHAT!

BUT WHEN....

and how the heck are we to adapt to play this game called life?

I general call myself optimist. I generally naively see the glass half full, I generally believe it will all be ok and will all work out. I'm generally confident enough to believe we can adapt in time to read the pitch and to stay in the game... even if our hit isn't a homerun.

But this time I'm nervous, I'm scared, I'm starting to guess what's next and there more questions then confidence.

At this time when my optimism in myself is clouded with uncertainty and I'm paralyzed with doubt, my optimism has to turn from myself, cause I fear I can't do it, I can't read the pitch in time, I can't analyse this game called life cause I'll go crazy trying.

At this time my optimism in myself goes from me to God. I have to look to Jesus and say "I don't have a freakin clue what to do, how to respond, how to pray, how to play, but you do. You know. You've got a clue. So do it, I can't!"

So this morning as the Sun warms the day and my coffee cups gets emptier, my metaphorical "glass" is still half full, it's just not as full of myself, it's being thrown at Jesus and pleadingly begged to be carried (or should I say filled) by him.

Have you had these times? If so, what did you do?

Czech 2011 - BMA, JV, and the travels home

Pearl and I now find ourselves in our living room still in our sweatpants and lazy shirts. After roughly 26 hours of travel we made it home and are now recouping before jumping back into the normal pace of life.

Over all our time in Czech was wonderful. The relationships and conversations enjoyed with NGO's (non-government organizations) and the local church was priceless. Lubo (the local pastor who's a wonderful leader) said as we were parting that our time of dwelling together was rich and exactly what was needed. He was right. The art of simple sitting around a table together sharing stories, looking into someone's face as they express their dreams, meeting students who are doing extraordinary things and creating new stories through shared experiences was worth the time and travel.

Here are the remaining pictures I feel capture our last days there and our travel home. There's a lot of pictures. Hope you enjoy.

But first here's our awesome team. From left to right, Myself, Pearl, Lubo, Andy and Teri Martin, Brad and Beth Steele, and Katka Vlnova.

BMA (Beskydy Mountain Academy)
In Czech you have to apply for High School, much like we have to apply for collage in the states. Each High School has an area of focus. So your high school might be a art school, mechanical or trade school, business school, or if your BMA a Language school. They specialize in foreign languages, but English is their main focus. Their teachers are a mix of Czech and American. One thing that makes them very special to me is they not only are testing as one of the top language schools in the nation (excellence matters!) but they are a Christian school. Students interact with teachers who follow Jesus and over their 4 years of high school they slowly get to see what it means to have faith. The stories that come from this school are inspiring and make me proud to be friends with Jonny, who is one of their main teachers and core heartbeats of the academy.

This kid had some guts. Most Czech's would never talk to a stranger, much less ask one to do something for them. Jonny introduced me to classes as a photographer from the States documenting for the school. After class this kid walks right up to me and ask for a photograph of him and his girlfriend. Jonny and I was shocked with his guts so I gladly took some pictures.

We were able to join some of the class discussions.

Pearl and I stayed with Jonny and Lisa Lobel for the week. In three words, "We love them"

JV (Josiah Venture)

JV is the organization that originally connected LCBC with the Czech Republic. JV stepped into East Europe over a decade ago and God has used them to shaped the lives of thousands of teenagers across East Europe. We partner with them mainly for English and Sports camps in the summer but their umbrella of ministries include drama, music, leadership development, television productions, and a host of other things. They have introduced the concept of youth ministry to the churches of East Europe, are training a majority of their leaders and are being used to shape the lives of Europe's youth. Their headquarter is in Frydlant. We visited their office, prayed with their staff, and had lunch at their conference center / hotel. We also received a sneak peek of some cabins they are building as mini training centers. They asked if I could take some photos of their new space, so I was able to spend a little extra time in them.

The bench at the table folds open to a regular size bed. Very cool use of space. The cabin can comfortably sleep a team of 12 adults. Soon the property will have 3-5 cabins and a rustic lodge with a conference / training room to host 80-100 adults.

Krakow, Poland

Our fight home left early from Krakow Sunday morning. After some warm and heartfelt goodbyes our team drove to Poland to spend the evening before boarding our plane in the morning. We were able to spend the a few hours walking the streets of Krakow before bed. Every Europain city I've been in has a magical air to it and this one was no exception. We strolled the streets, looked at amazing architecture, watched street performers and simply relaxed from a busy and full week.

Paris, France

Lay overs are bitter-sweet, mostly their just bitter, except when it's 8 hours in Paris they become pretty sweet. We had 7 hours between arriving and departing to spend in the Paris airport. We shared this with Jonny and he mapped out what he felt was the best way to see the "heart beat of Paris" in 4-5 hours. So as soon as the seatbelt light was turned off the 6 of us where working our way to the Blue RER train to get into the city. We dashed like we were our own mini episode of "the Amazing race" through Paris. In less then 6 hours we managed to see Notre Dome, eat Paris' famous ice-cream (famous to Jonny at least, but still amazing), the Louvre, Walk through the gardens of Tuileries and see the 3,300 year old Obelisque do Louxor from Egypt. We crossed the Pont Alexandre iii bridge and made our way to the Eiffel tower, and ended with a quick look at the Arc De Triomphe before a mad dash through the airport and to our flight home.