6-13-2010
So for the past week or maybe more Steven and I have been without any hot water. This is common in Kazakhstan because we are on a central heating system. So for 2 or 3 months out of the year, during the summer months, they get to work doing repairs and construction. At first the girls didn’t have hot water and we were told that we would have it until we left. We laughed and politely rubbed it in their faces, but it wasn’t long before we were served. But, this morning I sit writing this earlier than I want to be awake, having no water at all.
In one of the books we teach from it talks about meeting your neighbors the usual soviet way. The soviet way is meeting your neighbors very early in the morning because there is a leak in your apartment building and they are having water drip through their roof. This has happened to Steven and I before. But, tonight was different. At 4 in the morning our door bell was going haywire. Someone was out there ringing, ringing, ringing. I lay in my bed, in shock from just waking up and unable to understand what was going on. I couldn’t hear any water running...We hadn’t taken more than a 2 minute shower (because of the cold, COLD water) and that was the morning before. So I laid in my bed letting my thoughts get the best of me. I thought for sure I was in trouble. It must have been the KGB sending us a warning that they were after us. Ok, ok so maybe not that dramatic. I thought maybe it was a burglar checking to see who was home or looking for an easy entrance. I couldn’t understand the fact that it was 4 in the morning. I drifted back to sleep after about 15 minutes of worried fright. I had a dream that I was telling people about the crazy ringing at 4am, but nobody believed me. In my dream, I had just dreamed the whole thing. However, not more than 2 hours later the doorbell rang again. This time the guy rang it in pulses for about a minute and then laid on it for over a minute. I got up, trying to move quietly so he didn’t know I was there. I was angry, but at the same time worried. I figured I was in deep trouble now. He finally gave up after an unusually long time, and I decided it was time for my morning bathroom break. As I went into the bathroom I saw the entire floor flooded with water and the toilet leaking a tiny, tiny little trickle. I sighed, and headed for the phone to call Yelena. She didn’t answer right away so I spend a few minutes frantically worrying about what to do and praying for some wisdom. They rang, but I can’t answer the door. The only thing I can tell them is “Sorry, I don’t speak Russian” and that doesn’t help resolve big conflicts.
Anyways, I grabbed all the towels from the linen closet, got on my hands and knees, on the disgusting bathroom floor trying to slop up as much water as I could. I turned the water off right away, but as I turned it on for a quick second to wash up, I realized they had already cut our water. Luckily we had a Sprite bottle in reserve for times like this. So this morning, after a crappy sleep, a load of worrying, and about 30 minutes on the bathroom floor...I’m tired...I’m annoyed...I’m ready to go home!
(This isn’t saying that I won’t miss everyone here and that I still don't have mixed feelings about leaving, I’m just ready to get back to my own home and the American plumbing system :)
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Behind on Blogging!
6-13-2010
Today I realized how behind I am on blogging! So many great things have happened and I have failed to record them both for you and both for my future records.
I should have told you about how Emily’s boyfriend, Brian, has come to Kazakhstan. He’s been here almost two weeks and in just a few days him and Emily will be leaving us. It will be sad.
I also should have told you that last Friday we went to a little theme park called Fantasy World. It was just a fun little park where we rode some freefall rides, little rollercoasters, and a bunch of twirling, spinning things that made me feel a little woozy. It was funny because we went there after some other plans fell through. The park was just across the street. When we got there we found that the summer camp we had just come from teaching at, had taken all the students there so it was like a continuation of work, but nonetheless fun to hang out with the kids. Speaking of this summer camp I just realized that I have not yet talked about that, but that is a different blog entry for later.
I also need to mention that last Sabbath I preached. It was on very short notice, but I ended up having enough time to prepare. I talked about kids, and childish love. Something similar to the first blog entry I ever wrote on here. You can check the archives in case you missed it. And after church we went and had some delicious Lagman, and then headed up to Kok Tubye. Kok Tubye is a cool place on top of a mountain that overlooks the entire city. We took a gondola across a little part of the city and up to Kok Tubye. We watched the sunset and were able to see all of Almaty. This place is marked by a huge radio tower thing, but filled with different attractions, carnival games, and shops. We rode on a giant swing (it’s a Kazakh tradition), shot some crossbows, rode a mechanical bull, and all sorts of other fun stuff. I’m working on getting a video up here shortly.
And of course, last Sunday we went to the mountains. I think this was the first time that I went to the mountains and had the fullness of Spring thrust upon me. We hiked up a boring road for quite a ways, but then followed a large, flowing stream of snowmelt up this amazing valley-like area which was overflowing with greenery. Trees, bushes, flowers, with steep green mountains rising on both sides of us, snow covered peaks in the distance in front of us; it was a little taste of heaven. We actually didn’t hike too far, but stopped for picnic and then headed back in order to miss the rain. One of the things we did was cross the river on an old pipe that ascended from the ground, went over the river and above the valley for a little ways. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the greatest idea. The pipe wasn’t that large, our feet were wet, and it wouldn’t have taken much for someone to slip and fall to the raging waters below, braking a few bones and possibly worse. But, it’s over and nobody is hurt so it couldn’t have been that bad of an idea.
Things are really winding down now. This week we will be having usual classes, but saying goodbye to Emily. On Thursday we will be leaving by train to spend some time in the capital of Kazakhstan—Astana. After a long, long time on the train and a short time actually in the city (by our choice—we hear there is not much to see there) we will be back for only one more week of classes.
I have many mixed feelings, and am once again sulking in the fact that all I ever do is say goodbye. But, that is my life right now, at this stage, in this age. Thrusting from one crazy adventure to the next. I wouldn’t have it any other way. The big question I am asking: What now, God?
Today I realized how behind I am on blogging! So many great things have happened and I have failed to record them both for you and both for my future records.
I should have told you about how Emily’s boyfriend, Brian, has come to Kazakhstan. He’s been here almost two weeks and in just a few days him and Emily will be leaving us. It will be sad.
I also should have told you that last Friday we went to a little theme park called Fantasy World. It was just a fun little park where we rode some freefall rides, little rollercoasters, and a bunch of twirling, spinning things that made me feel a little woozy. It was funny because we went there after some other plans fell through. The park was just across the street. When we got there we found that the summer camp we had just come from teaching at, had taken all the students there so it was like a continuation of work, but nonetheless fun to hang out with the kids. Speaking of this summer camp I just realized that I have not yet talked about that, but that is a different blog entry for later.
I also need to mention that last Sabbath I preached. It was on very short notice, but I ended up having enough time to prepare. I talked about kids, and childish love. Something similar to the first blog entry I ever wrote on here. You can check the archives in case you missed it. And after church we went and had some delicious Lagman, and then headed up to Kok Tubye. Kok Tubye is a cool place on top of a mountain that overlooks the entire city. We took a gondola across a little part of the city and up to Kok Tubye. We watched the sunset and were able to see all of Almaty. This place is marked by a huge radio tower thing, but filled with different attractions, carnival games, and shops. We rode on a giant swing (it’s a Kazakh tradition), shot some crossbows, rode a mechanical bull, and all sorts of other fun stuff. I’m working on getting a video up here shortly.
And of course, last Sunday we went to the mountains. I think this was the first time that I went to the mountains and had the fullness of Spring thrust upon me. We hiked up a boring road for quite a ways, but then followed a large, flowing stream of snowmelt up this amazing valley-like area which was overflowing with greenery. Trees, bushes, flowers, with steep green mountains rising on both sides of us, snow covered peaks in the distance in front of us; it was a little taste of heaven. We actually didn’t hike too far, but stopped for picnic and then headed back in order to miss the rain. One of the things we did was cross the river on an old pipe that ascended from the ground, went over the river and above the valley for a little ways. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the greatest idea. The pipe wasn’t that large, our feet were wet, and it wouldn’t have taken much for someone to slip and fall to the raging waters below, braking a few bones and possibly worse. But, it’s over and nobody is hurt so it couldn’t have been that bad of an idea.
Things are really winding down now. This week we will be having usual classes, but saying goodbye to Emily. On Thursday we will be leaving by train to spend some time in the capital of Kazakhstan—Astana. After a long, long time on the train and a short time actually in the city (by our choice—we hear there is not much to see there) we will be back for only one more week of classes.
I have many mixed feelings, and am once again sulking in the fact that all I ever do is say goodbye. But, that is my life right now, at this stage, in this age. Thrusting from one crazy adventure to the next. I wouldn’t have it any other way. The big question I am asking: What now, God?
God and Religion: Why am I a Part of this Mess?
June 12, 2010
Recently I’ve been pondering some big questions. In our day we here so many negative things about religion and I myself have been an avid critic. So many people these days claim to love God while thinking that religion is corrupt, man-made, and just shy of worthless. So I decided to force myself to really think of what I thought religion should be. After all, if I’m going to criticize something, I better have an idea of how to better it. Thinking about religion got me thinking about bigger questions like “Why do I follow God?” and “What Would My Life Look Like without God?” And so I decided to dabble down some thoughts and have been asking some friends to the same. I think these are important questions for us all to answer. So take some time and think hard about the following questions. God is too big for us not to have questions.
Why do I follow God?
Many people argue that God is a crutch and I think this is sometimes true. I know sometimes I treat Him as only a crutch. When I can’t stand, He props me up, but when things are good, He can stay in the closet. But if I wanted a God solely for holding me up, I think I would be Jewish. Or maybe Muslim. I’m not saying anything against these religions, I’m just saying I think Christianity is the hardest religion to choose. Some people might scoff at that and say I’m tearing down grace, but I believe in grace 100%. The thing about Christianity is that all our beliefs are based on this crazy, radical, intense God. This Jesus who came to earth and shook things up so much that we are still talking about Him all the time 2000 years later. The problem with this is that our Jesus told us to follow Him, to be His disciples. In other words we are supposed to be crazy, radical, and intense. Jesus loved everyone around Him so passionately and so freely, and He wants me to do the same. That is not easy. I got some pretty hefty expectations to live up to. Yes, if I fail His grace covers me. But, the point isn’t about failing, I have to and I want to try to spread this insane love all over this desperate planet. While many people have turned Christianity into a lame, but somewhat comical show—going to church every week with their nice, pressed clothes; not saying the “F” word out loud in public; and trying to get a word of prayer in before they fall asleep—this is not the Christianity that was meant to be. The Book we Christians claim to follow tells us simply and plainly that religion is about caring for the widows and the orphans—in other words, the people in this world that have no one to help them.
That is one of things I like most about the gospel. It compels us to live better lives. But these lives, while more meaningful, are also much more difficult. This image that we are created in, is that of a crazy God. Sometimes I wish I could just be a selfish bastard and climb high up on the career ladder, make a butt-load of money, attend church occasionally, and feel ok with my life. But, I can’t. I’ve been enticed by the love of my Creator, and have fallen into the most difficult religion.
I follow God, because all my life I’ve felt like He’s followed me. I’ve tried to stray, honestly, I have. But this world is too amazing and people are too complex for me to say there is no God. I see evidence of a God of love everywhere, but primarily in my own heart. Love—genuine, extraordinary, Christian love—is pretty cool. I want it. I want the orphans and the widows, the homeless and the desperate, to feel it. I follow God because like, Peter, I don’t know where else to go. Nothing else works. Sure, I’ve got questions. I’ve got more questions than I really know what to do with. But the thing about God is that I can get so lost in Him that the questions just don’t matter. That doesn’t mean they go away, but when I look up into the starry desert sky all of my big time philosophical questions just don’t even seem worthy of asking. When I gaze at hundreds of different shades of reds, blues, purples, and oranges splashed across the sky as the sun retires for the day, I realize that God is so big I could probably never ask the right questions anyways. When I hike up a mountain and look down to the wondrous landscape below, or kneel down and pick a tiny, but ever so intricate flower, I am humbled. Sure I have big questions and sometimes they torture me. They dance through my head with a speed I cannot keep up with filling me with an uncertainty that I seemingly cannot contain. But I follow God, I wrestle with these questions, waiting for another moment when my thoughts grow still, and I realize for the millionth time that my questions are really not that important.
So it is my goal that I would be able to get so close to God that questions don’t matter. I know the questions will never go away and I think that is a good thing, but I just don’t want them to matter so much. I want to realize that God is huge and He is love. This is why I follow Him. This is why I follow Jesus.
What would my life look like without God?
This is an interesting question and I think it is the most difficult one to answer. As a child I was taught about Jesus. I was catapulted into a church and everything felt right at that age. When I was young I decided that God had called me to be a pastor; to tell other people about His love. Since then I have been like the ocean, coming back to and going away from God as the heavy waves run to and then withdraw from the sea shore. Without God I wonder how different my life would really be. God does provide the basis for my moral compass, and if He was out of my life, I suppose I would probably be nothing short of a man whore and a thief. Now I know I would still have morals, but how closely I would adhere to them, I honestly don’t know.
Without God in my life I would also obviously be pursuing different things career-wise. I’ve always been interested in business and I’ve always been a great liar. I probably would have dreams of being a CEO or something and having a lot of money. But, who knows. I also think that I might be just as misdirected and lost about my future. I’ll have to think about this one a little more
What is my ideal religion?
I want to see a religion that stops at nothing to share the love of Christ. A religion whose first priorities lie in caring for the widows and the orphans. Service—unrelenting, undying, unconditional, complete abandoning, all consuming service. Service that is motivated by love and big enough to define one’s life. I want to see service extend beyond the walls of our own church to the people that make us squirm in our seats. I want to see religion seek out druggies, homosexuals, prostitutes, homeless people, and hungry children; stopping at nothing to show them the love of Christ. I want to see a religion that makes people uncomfortable, but content to the core. I want to see a religion whose beliefs are rooted in the Bible and blossoming with its hope. I want to see a religion that has its eyes focused on the Great Day Jesus returns, but has a heart for the needs here and now, all around us. I want to see a religion where it is ok to be wrong and ok to say, “I don’t know.” More than anything I want to see a religion united—united in passion for this extreme God; united with a love so strong; united with One mission—proving the existence of God without ever saying a word and making His love real in this world.
What do I want from religion?
I want to learn to worship—to worship without restraint. I want freedom—freedom from human expectations and freedom from conflict. I want to feel safe in the arms of my fellow believers and have a place where all worries get left at the door. I want to feel like I am surrounded by multitudes that love me like Christ loves. I want to be able to give the fullness of myself to a cause. I want a religion that will promote healthy families as the basis for a healthy world. I want to be held accountable while never being judged. I want to know that they have God’s best interest in mind when they think of me, and never lead me in a wrong direction. I want a religion so strong that it supports questioning and holds onto doubters. I want a religion that not only waits for God’s children to come, but one that goes out in search for them. I want a religion that stops worrying about numbers and stops rejoicing over conversions. I want a religion that makes disciples—disciples with as much passion as the 12 after Jesus had resurrected. I want a religion that is marked with passion, and known for their love, with all the glory going to God.
What do think religion should be?
I think religion should be a group of people that hold beliefs similar, but not the same, as ours. I think religion’s face is the church, which is the bride of Christ. The same bride that He spent praying would have unity and finish the work He had started. I believe religion is us—those of us who have decided to choose the difficult, straight, and narrow way. It is people, who are overcome with the goodness in this world, reflecting the goodness of God, consumed with love and fighting, not to bring God’s kingdom to this earth, but trying to share His love with others before this war comes to an end.
Recently I’ve been pondering some big questions. In our day we here so many negative things about religion and I myself have been an avid critic. So many people these days claim to love God while thinking that religion is corrupt, man-made, and just shy of worthless. So I decided to force myself to really think of what I thought religion should be. After all, if I’m going to criticize something, I better have an idea of how to better it. Thinking about religion got me thinking about bigger questions like “Why do I follow God?” and “What Would My Life Look Like without God?” And so I decided to dabble down some thoughts and have been asking some friends to the same. I think these are important questions for us all to answer. So take some time and think hard about the following questions. God is too big for us not to have questions.
Why do I follow God?
Many people argue that God is a crutch and I think this is sometimes true. I know sometimes I treat Him as only a crutch. When I can’t stand, He props me up, but when things are good, He can stay in the closet. But if I wanted a God solely for holding me up, I think I would be Jewish. Or maybe Muslim. I’m not saying anything against these religions, I’m just saying I think Christianity is the hardest religion to choose. Some people might scoff at that and say I’m tearing down grace, but I believe in grace 100%. The thing about Christianity is that all our beliefs are based on this crazy, radical, intense God. This Jesus who came to earth and shook things up so much that we are still talking about Him all the time 2000 years later. The problem with this is that our Jesus told us to follow Him, to be His disciples. In other words we are supposed to be crazy, radical, and intense. Jesus loved everyone around Him so passionately and so freely, and He wants me to do the same. That is not easy. I got some pretty hefty expectations to live up to. Yes, if I fail His grace covers me. But, the point isn’t about failing, I have to and I want to try to spread this insane love all over this desperate planet. While many people have turned Christianity into a lame, but somewhat comical show—going to church every week with their nice, pressed clothes; not saying the “F” word out loud in public; and trying to get a word of prayer in before they fall asleep—this is not the Christianity that was meant to be. The Book we Christians claim to follow tells us simply and plainly that religion is about caring for the widows and the orphans—in other words, the people in this world that have no one to help them.
That is one of things I like most about the gospel. It compels us to live better lives. But these lives, while more meaningful, are also much more difficult. This image that we are created in, is that of a crazy God. Sometimes I wish I could just be a selfish bastard and climb high up on the career ladder, make a butt-load of money, attend church occasionally, and feel ok with my life. But, I can’t. I’ve been enticed by the love of my Creator, and have fallen into the most difficult religion.
I follow God, because all my life I’ve felt like He’s followed me. I’ve tried to stray, honestly, I have. But this world is too amazing and people are too complex for me to say there is no God. I see evidence of a God of love everywhere, but primarily in my own heart. Love—genuine, extraordinary, Christian love—is pretty cool. I want it. I want the orphans and the widows, the homeless and the desperate, to feel it. I follow God because like, Peter, I don’t know where else to go. Nothing else works. Sure, I’ve got questions. I’ve got more questions than I really know what to do with. But the thing about God is that I can get so lost in Him that the questions just don’t matter. That doesn’t mean they go away, but when I look up into the starry desert sky all of my big time philosophical questions just don’t even seem worthy of asking. When I gaze at hundreds of different shades of reds, blues, purples, and oranges splashed across the sky as the sun retires for the day, I realize that God is so big I could probably never ask the right questions anyways. When I hike up a mountain and look down to the wondrous landscape below, or kneel down and pick a tiny, but ever so intricate flower, I am humbled. Sure I have big questions and sometimes they torture me. They dance through my head with a speed I cannot keep up with filling me with an uncertainty that I seemingly cannot contain. But I follow God, I wrestle with these questions, waiting for another moment when my thoughts grow still, and I realize for the millionth time that my questions are really not that important.
So it is my goal that I would be able to get so close to God that questions don’t matter. I know the questions will never go away and I think that is a good thing, but I just don’t want them to matter so much. I want to realize that God is huge and He is love. This is why I follow Him. This is why I follow Jesus.
What would my life look like without God?
This is an interesting question and I think it is the most difficult one to answer. As a child I was taught about Jesus. I was catapulted into a church and everything felt right at that age. When I was young I decided that God had called me to be a pastor; to tell other people about His love. Since then I have been like the ocean, coming back to and going away from God as the heavy waves run to and then withdraw from the sea shore. Without God I wonder how different my life would really be. God does provide the basis for my moral compass, and if He was out of my life, I suppose I would probably be nothing short of a man whore and a thief. Now I know I would still have morals, but how closely I would adhere to them, I honestly don’t know.
Without God in my life I would also obviously be pursuing different things career-wise. I’ve always been interested in business and I’ve always been a great liar. I probably would have dreams of being a CEO or something and having a lot of money. But, who knows. I also think that I might be just as misdirected and lost about my future. I’ll have to think about this one a little more
What is my ideal religion?
I want to see a religion that stops at nothing to share the love of Christ. A religion whose first priorities lie in caring for the widows and the orphans. Service—unrelenting, undying, unconditional, complete abandoning, all consuming service. Service that is motivated by love and big enough to define one’s life. I want to see service extend beyond the walls of our own church to the people that make us squirm in our seats. I want to see religion seek out druggies, homosexuals, prostitutes, homeless people, and hungry children; stopping at nothing to show them the love of Christ. I want to see a religion that makes people uncomfortable, but content to the core. I want to see a religion whose beliefs are rooted in the Bible and blossoming with its hope. I want to see a religion that has its eyes focused on the Great Day Jesus returns, but has a heart for the needs here and now, all around us. I want to see a religion where it is ok to be wrong and ok to say, “I don’t know.” More than anything I want to see a religion united—united in passion for this extreme God; united with a love so strong; united with One mission—proving the existence of God without ever saying a word and making His love real in this world.
What do I want from religion?
I want to learn to worship—to worship without restraint. I want freedom—freedom from human expectations and freedom from conflict. I want to feel safe in the arms of my fellow believers and have a place where all worries get left at the door. I want to feel like I am surrounded by multitudes that love me like Christ loves. I want to be able to give the fullness of myself to a cause. I want a religion that will promote healthy families as the basis for a healthy world. I want to be held accountable while never being judged. I want to know that they have God’s best interest in mind when they think of me, and never lead me in a wrong direction. I want a religion so strong that it supports questioning and holds onto doubters. I want a religion that not only waits for God’s children to come, but one that goes out in search for them. I want a religion that stops worrying about numbers and stops rejoicing over conversions. I want a religion that makes disciples—disciples with as much passion as the 12 after Jesus had resurrected. I want a religion that is marked with passion, and known for their love, with all the glory going to God.
What do think religion should be?
I think religion should be a group of people that hold beliefs similar, but not the same, as ours. I think religion’s face is the church, which is the bride of Christ. The same bride that He spent praying would have unity and finish the work He had started. I believe religion is us—those of us who have decided to choose the difficult, straight, and narrow way. It is people, who are overcome with the goodness in this world, reflecting the goodness of God, consumed with love and fighting, not to bring God’s kingdom to this earth, but trying to share His love with others before this war comes to an end.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Fearing to Fail
5-30-2010
This past week I had a conversation with a friend and read a couple articles dealing with failure and the fear of failure and I thought, “I’ve never been afraid of failure.” Now, I’m not saying I’m not afraid of anything, because I do have my fears, but failure is not one of them. In my early years of high school I didn’t have set goals for college and my future. Later in High school I determined which university I wanted to go to and what I wanted to pursue. I don’t think I ever once thought about failure. Even now, as I am rethinking my life and pondering what direction I should go, I do not fear failure. So that got me thinking further, “Am I being cocky? Why couldn’t I end up failing miserably? Why am I not afraid?” I guess this seems like a strange thing to think about, but it really got me going. I think it could have something to do with my wild imagination and unrelenting, sometimes annoying optimism. I imagine the different scenarios and no matter what happens I know that I could make it fun and exciting, and I know that I could change things if I wanted or if necessary. It could also have to do with the fact that I have no wealth hoarded up or expectations that I feel pinned to. But, I came to some sort of conclusion that I don’t fear failure because I don’t really need to. I’m not going to fail. This may sound a little too self-confident, and maybe a bit on the cocky side, and maybe it is, but it’s true. I have amazing parents and amazing family and friends for that matter who will stop at nothing to support me. They believe in me, they believe that I will choose the right path and that I will succeed in whatever I do. Why do they believe I will succeed? I suppose for the same reasons that I know I will not fail. I’ve got God on my side. Even when I do fail, it’s just like falling and scraping my knee. I get back up and keep going, knowing that my God is already healing my wounds and carrying my heavy baggage. If God calls and God empowers and God loves, seriously—how can I fail? I can’t. Now I do fear other things like not following God’s leading or ending up with a job that I hate or a marriage that has more downs than ups. But, with all this, I know the end result will be good—it will be more than good. God has a purpose, He has a calling, and while I may be in a wandering and questioning sort of state I know that I will fall upon His best in His timing. I will not, I cannot fail.
This past week I had a conversation with a friend and read a couple articles dealing with failure and the fear of failure and I thought, “I’ve never been afraid of failure.” Now, I’m not saying I’m not afraid of anything, because I do have my fears, but failure is not one of them. In my early years of high school I didn’t have set goals for college and my future. Later in High school I determined which university I wanted to go to and what I wanted to pursue. I don’t think I ever once thought about failure. Even now, as I am rethinking my life and pondering what direction I should go, I do not fear failure. So that got me thinking further, “Am I being cocky? Why couldn’t I end up failing miserably? Why am I not afraid?” I guess this seems like a strange thing to think about, but it really got me going. I think it could have something to do with my wild imagination and unrelenting, sometimes annoying optimism. I imagine the different scenarios and no matter what happens I know that I could make it fun and exciting, and I know that I could change things if I wanted or if necessary. It could also have to do with the fact that I have no wealth hoarded up or expectations that I feel pinned to. But, I came to some sort of conclusion that I don’t fear failure because I don’t really need to. I’m not going to fail. This may sound a little too self-confident, and maybe a bit on the cocky side, and maybe it is, but it’s true. I have amazing parents and amazing family and friends for that matter who will stop at nothing to support me. They believe in me, they believe that I will choose the right path and that I will succeed in whatever I do. Why do they believe I will succeed? I suppose for the same reasons that I know I will not fail. I’ve got God on my side. Even when I do fail, it’s just like falling and scraping my knee. I get back up and keep going, knowing that my God is already healing my wounds and carrying my heavy baggage. If God calls and God empowers and God loves, seriously—how can I fail? I can’t. Now I do fear other things like not following God’s leading or ending up with a job that I hate or a marriage that has more downs than ups. But, with all this, I know the end result will be good—it will be more than good. God has a purpose, He has a calling, and while I may be in a wandering and questioning sort of state I know that I will fall upon His best in His timing. I will not, I cannot fail.
Another Eventful Escapade
5-30-2010
As another weekend flies by, I am not really sure what to think. Starting this next week I’m getting a couple more classes and having to start a kids summer camp English program. That means that some days I will be working from early morning to late night. While I’m sad to give up my reading time and my wake-up-whenever-I-want way of life, I am excited to get back into the working mode. I haven’t had much demanded from me since I’ve been here and while I have relished the free time for reading, writing, and thinking, I have not been challenged and thus, I have not done too much growing. Sure I’ve grown, but not in the push-myself-to-accomplish-difficult-tasks way. I don’t want to get back home and be appalled by having to do a full day’s work. This was after all my Sabbatical and now it is coming to an end.
This weekend was yet another crazy eventful escapade. Saturday we were in charge of church and we enjoyed listening to Emily preach for the first time and share some things she’s learned in the year she’s been here. Her boyfriend got in on Sunday and so she has been on cloud 9 as she is packing her bags and enjoying her last couple weeks in Kazakhstan. After church we went to the fancy Opera House and watched a Ballet. I’ve never been to a ballet before so I wasn’t sure what to expect. All the girls seemed to be thrilled by it, but most of the guys I talked to said it was oozjas (horrible). Turns out, the ballet is definitely more of a woman thing. I enjoyed it, because it was new and because I got to put another Kazakhstan experience on my page, but ultimately it was weird. The first act was a shirtless man wearing tights doing these nasty sexual moves while prancing around the stage. We were all kind of wondering, “What did these people bring us to?” The second act had a man and a woman who were doing crazy sexual dances, but were quite funny and entertaining. Then there was a Romeo and Juliet style dance and a Don Quixote style dance and all these other dancers that featured twirling dancers and intriguing music. After intermission the “real” ballet started and it seemed to be a story of a woman with three lovers or something and a little demon and in the end she died and her demon died with her and the three men were all standing together. As you can tell, I have no idea what they were trying to get across, but it was entertaining nonetheless. I came to the conclusions that ballets are really sexual and children should not be allowed in the theater.
Today however, we did not have to sit through any crazy dance performances. We woke up early and headed to the monthly craft fair. We spend about an hour there and I bought a few things to give to some people when I get back. However, I am really trying to hold back because I don’t want to have overweight bags when I get on the plane to go home.
After the craft fair we went to meet some people. Of course, everyone was late, including us. We waited, got on a bus and drove far, then got in a taxi, which ended up circling and going back to where we started, and then we looped around a few more times to finally arrive at our destination. This was the result of a lot of disorganization of a company we used. Anyways, our destination was some field with some old buildings and rubble with a van filled with guns and cameo suits. We went paintballing! I’ve never gone paintballing in the States. Too much money, always looked painful, but in Kazakhstan I got the opportunity to go for cheap and without all those overdone American safety regulations. So we got in our cameo suits, put on our masks and started out with some capture the flag. The first round I was put on the front lines and we charged forward. I didn’t last long though, before taking a shot to the face. The ball hit my mask and splattered red paint along my goggles which was kind of freaky, but luckily didn’t hurt at all. However, I was dead and had to wait for the next round. The second round I chose to hide out in some building, but when I saw the building didn’t go through I had to leave. On my way out I got some guy hiding in the bushes, and felt proud of my first paintball kill. So I crept towards their flag and got to their “base”. Inside I could hear a bunch of “enemies” talking and waiting for someone to disrupt them. I knew I couldn’t take all of them so I decided to just bolt for their flag and run as fast as I could to my base. Unbelievably, I made it. That has always been my style, whether it be in video games or real life. I like to make strategies, but when it comes down to it I like to see the “flags” in front of me, abandon all reason and precaution, and just go for it. So we were tied and we started a new game. This time we were in a building and the other team had to try and steal our flag. I killed many people this round and we ended up winning. The next time we switched roles and we ended up winning that one too. So everyone was either out of bullets or tired. Finally it came down to Steven and I versus 5 Russian guys we didn’t know. The guy told us we were survivors and everyone else had a mission to kill us. It was pretty much a glorified hide and seek with guns—amazing! We found the best spot in this building and once they found where we were they tried to get us, but only ended up being showered with our paint. Steven and I came out victorious. It was a blast! But after running around in the heat of the day, wearing heavy cameo suits and carrying around our guns, we were exhausted and in serious need of water. I think after today, I have a newfound respect for our soldiers in the Middle East. They have to walk around with a ton more crap than I had on today and in an even hotter climate; and after waiting in a room with my special mission, hearing gunshots all around me, waiting for the enemy pop up so I can shoot them—Mercy...I’m glad I’m a missionary and not a soldier. That’s all I have to say. But, I thoroughly enjoyed the battle, the adrenaline, and the mission. It was a kind of adventure that I believe men crave.
After getting all hot, sweaty, and nasty we went to a fancy mall (that is very popular here, but that I’ve never been to) and had dinner at some pizza restaurant in order to say goodbye to Emily and one of Emily’s students that is going on a work/study program to America. All these goodbyes are starting and I still have a month left!
So with all this busyness piling up and all these goodbyes welling up I think this last month is going to fly by especially fast. My feelings are of course mixed. It will be bittersweet, but I have had, and keep having, amazing experiences here that will never leave me.
As another weekend flies by, I am not really sure what to think. Starting this next week I’m getting a couple more classes and having to start a kids summer camp English program. That means that some days I will be working from early morning to late night. While I’m sad to give up my reading time and my wake-up-whenever-I-want way of life, I am excited to get back into the working mode. I haven’t had much demanded from me since I’ve been here and while I have relished the free time for reading, writing, and thinking, I have not been challenged and thus, I have not done too much growing. Sure I’ve grown, but not in the push-myself-to-accomplish-difficult-tasks way. I don’t want to get back home and be appalled by having to do a full day’s work. This was after all my Sabbatical and now it is coming to an end.
This weekend was yet another crazy eventful escapade. Saturday we were in charge of church and we enjoyed listening to Emily preach for the first time and share some things she’s learned in the year she’s been here. Her boyfriend got in on Sunday and so she has been on cloud 9 as she is packing her bags and enjoying her last couple weeks in Kazakhstan. After church we went to the fancy Opera House and watched a Ballet. I’ve never been to a ballet before so I wasn’t sure what to expect. All the girls seemed to be thrilled by it, but most of the guys I talked to said it was oozjas (horrible). Turns out, the ballet is definitely more of a woman thing. I enjoyed it, because it was new and because I got to put another Kazakhstan experience on my page, but ultimately it was weird. The first act was a shirtless man wearing tights doing these nasty sexual moves while prancing around the stage. We were all kind of wondering, “What did these people bring us to?” The second act had a man and a woman who were doing crazy sexual dances, but were quite funny and entertaining. Then there was a Romeo and Juliet style dance and a Don Quixote style dance and all these other dancers that featured twirling dancers and intriguing music. After intermission the “real” ballet started and it seemed to be a story of a woman with three lovers or something and a little demon and in the end she died and her demon died with her and the three men were all standing together. As you can tell, I have no idea what they were trying to get across, but it was entertaining nonetheless. I came to the conclusions that ballets are really sexual and children should not be allowed in the theater.
Today however, we did not have to sit through any crazy dance performances. We woke up early and headed to the monthly craft fair. We spend about an hour there and I bought a few things to give to some people when I get back. However, I am really trying to hold back because I don’t want to have overweight bags when I get on the plane to go home.
After the craft fair we went to meet some people. Of course, everyone was late, including us. We waited, got on a bus and drove far, then got in a taxi, which ended up circling and going back to where we started, and then we looped around a few more times to finally arrive at our destination. This was the result of a lot of disorganization of a company we used. Anyways, our destination was some field with some old buildings and rubble with a van filled with guns and cameo suits. We went paintballing! I’ve never gone paintballing in the States. Too much money, always looked painful, but in Kazakhstan I got the opportunity to go for cheap and without all those overdone American safety regulations. So we got in our cameo suits, put on our masks and started out with some capture the flag. The first round I was put on the front lines and we charged forward. I didn’t last long though, before taking a shot to the face. The ball hit my mask and splattered red paint along my goggles which was kind of freaky, but luckily didn’t hurt at all. However, I was dead and had to wait for the next round. The second round I chose to hide out in some building, but when I saw the building didn’t go through I had to leave. On my way out I got some guy hiding in the bushes, and felt proud of my first paintball kill. So I crept towards their flag and got to their “base”. Inside I could hear a bunch of “enemies” talking and waiting for someone to disrupt them. I knew I couldn’t take all of them so I decided to just bolt for their flag and run as fast as I could to my base. Unbelievably, I made it. That has always been my style, whether it be in video games or real life. I like to make strategies, but when it comes down to it I like to see the “flags” in front of me, abandon all reason and precaution, and just go for it. So we were tied and we started a new game. This time we were in a building and the other team had to try and steal our flag. I killed many people this round and we ended up winning. The next time we switched roles and we ended up winning that one too. So everyone was either out of bullets or tired. Finally it came down to Steven and I versus 5 Russian guys we didn’t know. The guy told us we were survivors and everyone else had a mission to kill us. It was pretty much a glorified hide and seek with guns—amazing! We found the best spot in this building and once they found where we were they tried to get us, but only ended up being showered with our paint. Steven and I came out victorious. It was a blast! But after running around in the heat of the day, wearing heavy cameo suits and carrying around our guns, we were exhausted and in serious need of water. I think after today, I have a newfound respect for our soldiers in the Middle East. They have to walk around with a ton more crap than I had on today and in an even hotter climate; and after waiting in a room with my special mission, hearing gunshots all around me, waiting for the enemy pop up so I can shoot them—Mercy...I’m glad I’m a missionary and not a soldier. That’s all I have to say. But, I thoroughly enjoyed the battle, the adrenaline, and the mission. It was a kind of adventure that I believe men crave.
After getting all hot, sweaty, and nasty we went to a fancy mall (that is very popular here, but that I’ve never been to) and had dinner at some pizza restaurant in order to say goodbye to Emily and one of Emily’s students that is going on a work/study program to America. All these goodbyes are starting and I still have a month left!
So with all this busyness piling up and all these goodbyes welling up I think this last month is going to fly by especially fast. My feelings are of course mixed. It will be bittersweet, but I have had, and keep having, amazing experiences here that will never leave me.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
The Mormons
5-28-2010
So yesterday I was late for work so I decided to hop on the bus in hopes that it would get me there faster than my own two feet. I got on and sat down, pulled out my phone and texted one of my students. These four guys walked on the bus all in white shirts and ties. I chuckled to myself thinking, “These guys look like Mormons.” Of course, I’m in Kazakhstan so I didn’t think they really were Mormons, but then the bus started moving. I gave up my seat to an old Diadushka (Grandpa) (this is strict custom here) and was standing near where they were sitting. Soon two of the guys got off the bus and I heard them speaking English. Not only did I hear them speaking English, I heard them speaking English with an American accent! So I stood there, but I knew I had to go talk to them. I mean it’s not every day you meet other Americans on the bus in Almaty. So I went over and asked if I heard them speaking English. They said yes and I asked where they were from. One of the guys, he looked about my age, said he was from Utah. Of course the thought popped in my head, “My goodness, they are Mormons!” But we kept talking introduced ourselves and talked about our business in Almaty. I told him I’m a volunteer English teacher and he told me that he was doing service with his church. Knowing the answer, I thought I would ask anyways, “Oh really! What church are you with?” Sure enough—The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He immediately asked if I had heard about them taking the opportunity to share his good news and I told him that I study theology. We were both interested and the conversation would have probably gone on but my bus stop came up and I was already late.
It didn’t matter who they were, it was nice to get that reassurance that I’m not the only crazy American in this crazy city. I have always admired Mormons. While I think their beliefs are a little off, they show incredible determination in all aspects of life, but especially in mission. They believe in their message and it affects the totality of their lives. They are family-oriented and other than polygamy from a few bad apples, you never hear of many Mormons involved in scandals. So I was excited to meet them. We had been in Almaty for around the same amount of time, but I was getting ready to leave and I knew this kid had another year and a half if he was like other Mormons I’d met. I would have loved to talk more with them; I probably should have gotten their phone number or something. But, regardless, it made for a pretty cool day.
So yesterday I was late for work so I decided to hop on the bus in hopes that it would get me there faster than my own two feet. I got on and sat down, pulled out my phone and texted one of my students. These four guys walked on the bus all in white shirts and ties. I chuckled to myself thinking, “These guys look like Mormons.” Of course, I’m in Kazakhstan so I didn’t think they really were Mormons, but then the bus started moving. I gave up my seat to an old Diadushka (Grandpa) (this is strict custom here) and was standing near where they were sitting. Soon two of the guys got off the bus and I heard them speaking English. Not only did I hear them speaking English, I heard them speaking English with an American accent! So I stood there, but I knew I had to go talk to them. I mean it’s not every day you meet other Americans on the bus in Almaty. So I went over and asked if I heard them speaking English. They said yes and I asked where they were from. One of the guys, he looked about my age, said he was from Utah. Of course the thought popped in my head, “My goodness, they are Mormons!” But we kept talking introduced ourselves and talked about our business in Almaty. I told him I’m a volunteer English teacher and he told me that he was doing service with his church. Knowing the answer, I thought I would ask anyways, “Oh really! What church are you with?” Sure enough—The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He immediately asked if I had heard about them taking the opportunity to share his good news and I told him that I study theology. We were both interested and the conversation would have probably gone on but my bus stop came up and I was already late.
It didn’t matter who they were, it was nice to get that reassurance that I’m not the only crazy American in this crazy city. I have always admired Mormons. While I think their beliefs are a little off, they show incredible determination in all aspects of life, but especially in mission. They believe in their message and it affects the totality of their lives. They are family-oriented and other than polygamy from a few bad apples, you never hear of many Mormons involved in scandals. So I was excited to meet them. We had been in Almaty for around the same amount of time, but I was getting ready to leave and I knew this kid had another year and a half if he was like other Mormons I’d met. I would have loved to talk more with them; I probably should have gotten their phone number or something. But, regardless, it made for a pretty cool day.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Occupation: Lover
5-25-2010
In my nearly 20 years of life I have had many experiences. I have seen many different places and had opportunities to interact with people from different cultures, mindsets, and upbringings. Everyone goes through life with different motives, with different goals and aims. Some people are working to get enough money to buy a new car or a bigger house while others are working to please their spouse or their kids. Some people are working to survive while others are trying to pursue causes bigger than themselves. Now, I think everyone wants to pursue a good cause. I know many teachers and these are people certainly not motivated by money, but people that I believe truly want to make an impact in the lives of children and young people. Nearly everyone, no matter where they’re from or how they were brought up, lives their life wanting to contribute something to this world. The problem I have is when I look around and see so many people satisfied with their lives.
That may sound strange, because satisfaction is a good thing. It may just be my crazy youth-plague mind, but as I ponder my future the last thing I want is satisfaction. Satisfaction causes stagnation and stagnation causes bacteria and fungi to build up. You never want to drink out of a puddle of water that has been still for months. It is probably a nice green color with fuzzy things floating and bugs swarming around. Many people live their lives, go to work, and develop a routine that they will keep up for years. The only time their lives are interrupted is through some sort of tragedy. Personally, I don’t want my life to have to be shaken up by tragedy. I don’t want to be a nasty puddle of water; I want to be a stream that is constantly flowing, bringing life to the things and people that surround me.
I’m not saying that we should be miserable and unsatisfied all the time. I believe in happiness, and even more so I believe in contentment. Extreme happiness is great, but you’ll notice that when you have a big dose of happiness it fades and then you feel like your life is boring and you become miserable. Happiness has the same effect as cocaine. What we really need is contentment—a strong, bold contentment that rejects satisfaction.
I have been pondering my future—what I want “to be when I grow up” and I have to say that I don’t think I like any of the outcomes. I don’t want to “be” one thing. I don’t want to “be” a pastor, or a doctor, or a teacher. I want to “be” me and “do” all sorts of different things. I read an article about some guy who marked his occupation “lover” because he had no real career. He just did things to help others and love on them. So I think I want to be a lover. I don’t want to be defined by my career. I want to be defined by my character and my faith and then from there follow opportunities that allow me to spread God’s love.
In my nearly 20 years of life I have had many experiences. I have seen many different places and had opportunities to interact with people from different cultures, mindsets, and upbringings. Everyone goes through life with different motives, with different goals and aims. Some people are working to get enough money to buy a new car or a bigger house while others are working to please their spouse or their kids. Some people are working to survive while others are trying to pursue causes bigger than themselves. Now, I think everyone wants to pursue a good cause. I know many teachers and these are people certainly not motivated by money, but people that I believe truly want to make an impact in the lives of children and young people. Nearly everyone, no matter where they’re from or how they were brought up, lives their life wanting to contribute something to this world. The problem I have is when I look around and see so many people satisfied with their lives.
That may sound strange, because satisfaction is a good thing. It may just be my crazy youth-plague mind, but as I ponder my future the last thing I want is satisfaction. Satisfaction causes stagnation and stagnation causes bacteria and fungi to build up. You never want to drink out of a puddle of water that has been still for months. It is probably a nice green color with fuzzy things floating and bugs swarming around. Many people live their lives, go to work, and develop a routine that they will keep up for years. The only time their lives are interrupted is through some sort of tragedy. Personally, I don’t want my life to have to be shaken up by tragedy. I don’t want to be a nasty puddle of water; I want to be a stream that is constantly flowing, bringing life to the things and people that surround me.
I’m not saying that we should be miserable and unsatisfied all the time. I believe in happiness, and even more so I believe in contentment. Extreme happiness is great, but you’ll notice that when you have a big dose of happiness it fades and then you feel like your life is boring and you become miserable. Happiness has the same effect as cocaine. What we really need is contentment—a strong, bold contentment that rejects satisfaction.
I have been pondering my future—what I want “to be when I grow up” and I have to say that I don’t think I like any of the outcomes. I don’t want to “be” one thing. I don’t want to “be” a pastor, or a doctor, or a teacher. I want to “be” me and “do” all sorts of different things. I read an article about some guy who marked his occupation “lover” because he had no real career. He just did things to help others and love on them. So I think I want to be a lover. I don’t want to be defined by my career. I want to be defined by my character and my faith and then from there follow opportunities that allow me to spread God’s love.
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