I feel like my life is unbalanced.

How is it that I can take out a student loan and live on money I don't really have? I understand the meaning of investment. Good ones, bad ones, what will get a return, what won't. But even still, am I moving forward by going back?

How is it that I have to place a monetary value on my being able to spend Christmas at home? I don't want to feel burdened for going home. My plane ticket is my ticket to see my family. Why should buying a ticket make me less excited to go home? Or will I value my family time more by being able to or not being able to go home? is the question "can I afford the ticket?" or "should I afford the ticket?" or should I even ask a question?

How is it that I am almost done my education and I still feel like I'm just barely beginning to grasp how to bring a thought together intelligently and thoughtfully, slowly drawing it out on a piece of paper, grasping for words?

How is it that the world moves so quickly, that time passes without letting me mine the moment for the worth, and I'm stuck with a pick axe or jackhammer in hand, trying to mine a moment in the past as time continues to move forward? Does the time that passes while I'm jack-hammering on a earlier moment mean more because I'm mining, even though hundreds and perhaps thousands of other moments are passing by? Do we waste time mining something of little worth when something of greater worth lies in a moment that we haven't touched?

I can't be all places at once. I can't be all things at once. I can't do all things at once. But I am always at once alive.

Birthpangs

"Not too long ago a priest told me that he cancelled his subscription to The New York Times because he felt that the endless stories about war, crime, power games and political manipulation only disturbed his mind and heart and prevented him from meditation and prayer. That is a sad story because it suggests that only by surrounding yourself by an artificial, self-induced quietude can you live a spiritual life. A real spiritual life does exactly the opposite: it makes us so alert and aware of the world around us that all that is and happens becomes part of our contemplation and meditation and invites us to a free and fearless response."
- Henri Nouwen (Reaching Out)

The lectionary readings from today (1 Samuel 1:4-20; 1 Samuel 2:1-10; Mark 13:1-8) carries a common theme of contrast; it connects the reality of brokenness found in the desperate and mundane of our world to the realizing of a fuller life and fuller humanity. What we would see as lowness, brokenness, destruction holds with it the actualizing of promise and life.

In the 1 Samuel passages Hannah's barrenness and the social humiliation that comes with this becomes a turning to God and the birth of Samuel. In Mark, Jesus describes to the awe-struck disciples the destruction of the temple, the turning of the great stones that were so remarkable to them. "When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed" Jesus says, "this must take place but the end is still to come". He goes on to describe that nations and kingdoms will clash, that the earth will have natural disasters - "this is the beginning of the birthpangs." I thought "birthpangs" was an interesting word choice. Especially in light of the other two readings about Hannah's barrenness and the promise of Hannah's own birthpangs.

Altogether, it made me wonder if the point is that barrenness, breaking and clashing is actually a necessary part of a fuller life. Not to forget that Christ brings the life more abundant through the breaking of his own body, that the symbol of our association with Christ and the community of believers is the breaking of bread and wine of crushed grapes.

Read the Nouwen quote again, and ask ourselves how we should live in this world.

I accept you, long distance living

I have recently been struck by the thought that in my lifetime of 23 years I cannot recall one time that I have gone on hungry because of the lack of something to eat.

I tried two nights ago to find something more to write after that initial thought. I think it stands for pondering just the way it is.

About a month ago I moved back to New Brunswick after spending two months in Alberta, helping with seeding and yard work on my parents farm. During those two months I was involved in two weddings (one being my brother Darcy's), took a road trip to BC with my friend Caleb (who entertained me with experiences from his hitch-hiking excursion from New Brunswick to Alberta), climbed two mountains, rappelled into a cave and among other things, generally spent some much needed time catching up with family and friends.

It really was a much needed time, especially after having just spent two month in Southeast Asia. But it also highlighted some of the difficulties with having roots in two sides of the continent (and beyond). In a small way I wonder if this isn't what many missionaries and international workers experience when they come back home after a long time giving much of themselves and being given so much in another place, often with little to connect two worlds that they are very much a part of, but two worlds that have few other bridges to the other. I sometimes can't help but feel like I'm living two lives, both of them meaningful but in worlds that are disconnected.

I'm slowly getting better at finding ways of connecting home-life in Alberta to home-life in New Brunswick, or at least finding ways to let the differences be. It's great to have friends from out east come to the farm. In some small way it proves to myself that all my academics and fun on the coast are a reality even when I'm in Alberta. And in the same sense, when friends and family from the west come out to the coast it makes me remember that I really am from the prairies.

Differences are differences. There are obvious admirable characteristics that make the coast 'the coast!' and the prairies 'the prairies!'. In each I have found a unique beauty in nature and the joy in community. A question that has been getting me in the last couple years though... 'can someone be a full person in two places?'.

Whoever I have become in one place, with all of the people and experiences that have poured into me, gets carried with me to next. Maybe the better question that is really underneath this is 'what is a full person?'.

Of Clementines and Journeys

Time is moving quickly, or maybe I'm the one that has been moving too quickly. One of the advantages of a blog is that it can force one to sit down and reflect on what might otherwise never be reflected upon. Our experiences sometimes need to be unpacked. I suppose I could compare "experience" to the Clementines or Christmas oranges which show up in our kitchen at home each Christmas season. They are attractive to see and touch, but, to truly know all one has to offer the orange needs to be peeled and then savoured. Sometimes experiences can be enjoyed in their entirety all at once. Sometimes experiences need to ripen. And maybe sometimes, like an over-ripe, hard and discoloured orange, we let our experiences go by without having known them fully.

I'm on the verge, and now in the process, of another new and amazing traveling experience. I'll be part of a group at my university that is studying, and will soon be traveling through, South East Asia. But before I get too far along in this exciting new fruition of learning, I'm wanting to reflect and share some of my other experiences, before my hypothetical and experiential orange finds itself lacking in luster and taste.

So, back to Europe I go. Looking back, my travel semester that took me through eight weeks of eight countries this past summer was nothing short of incredible. I'll share some of the highlights: The rain in Spain - Seeing first hand the paintings, sculptures and buildings of Michelangelo, Leonardo Da Vinci, Van Gogh, Gaudi and many, many others of Europe's most gifted artists - Roman aqueducts and bath complexes - Eating amazing Gelato in Italy, sometimes more than once a day - Kayaking in Austria on Europe's cleanest lake at 6 am in the morning - Viewing Rome from the top of St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican - A woman weeping at the tomb of Saint Francis of Assisi in the crypt of the Basilica of St. Francis - Standing in the main square of Prague where thousands of Czech people protested the oppression of communism, knowing it was only word and people against control and machine - Feeling the sobering silence and stillness in the concentration camp in Dachau - Spending an afternoon riding a tram and hiking in the Swiss Alps - Standing on the Beaches where Canadian, American and British troops landed on the 6th of June in 1944, D-Day - Most of our group getting sea sick crossing the English Channel - Having fish and chips and a pint in the Oxford pub where C.S. Lewis and the Inklings would meet - Sleeping in a tent, under the open sky and knowing there is a good chance of waking up to rain - Grocery shopping and making meals together - Laughing, singing and crying together - Trying to stay together and trying to get away - Hating being with people, loving being with people - Community - Diversity.

In case anyone wonders if I was really doing anything of academic value during the travel term to Europe (good question), it may be encouraging for you to know some of the numbers I recently crunched: I read at least 9 books and textbooks, over 50 articles, wrote over 100 pages of assignments and an 80 page journal. All this fitted alongside traveling that included packing and unpacking of tents and gear, lectures and presentations, travel by bus, subway, tram-car, bicycle, scooter and shoes, the shopping for and making of meals everyday and the safety and travel of 35 students and professors.

I've been learning that the history of my life has been completely shaped by the history of the world. Understanding Christianity and Western culture has been greatly enhanced for me by giving history the time to sink in deeper. I did not know that both Protestants and Catholics were responsible for the persecution of thousands of Anabaptists, some of which would eventually form a group known as the Mennonites. I did not know that over two hundred years before Martin Luther, John Wycliffe was calling for the church to take charge of its short-comings. I did not know that the invasion of allied forces into Normandy was the largest military operation in history which involved over 3000 aircraft stretching 300 miles across the sky, over 20, 000 paratroopers, and almost 134, 000 troops landing on the five beaches -- I'm learning that history often has a much greater story to tell.