Coming Home

I have now been home just longer then three weeks.  Well I would have to count to be sure.  Honestly I am starting to loose track of that day when I landed in  Chicago to see my mother and brother waiting for me.  I suppose that is a good thing because it is showing that I am getting acustomed again.  It has been weird these last couple weeks.  Actually almost surreal because, while I am home with family and friends, it feels so strange.  When someone asks me where I am staying, the first thought is the large brown door with its metal number 3988.  Obviously I am not living there anymore, so just the change of location has been hard.

Along with the simple change of location, it has been an adjustment to change churches.  During my six months in Argentina, I had the opportunity to join a life group, teach in study school, and invest and be invested in.  It was an amazing experience to have a healthy church relationship.  Before Argentina I struggled attending and getting involved in my local church, but the last couple weeks I have had a great chance to get to know the hispanic side of our church body and begin making relationships, which I hope will grow into strong friendships.  It is a hard process, as Ashley House and I talked about Sunday how it will take dedication, perserverence, and faithfulness.

Those are two of the hardest transitions that I have had... thus far.  The last two weeks I have had the chance of helping with soccer camp.  They were long weeks, which required me to get up at six in the morning and be outside all day, but they were two good weeks to get me active and involved again.  I feel surreal because I am not involved, when this should be my "life".  I seem to sit on the sidelines and watch my life pass by, so the last two weeks getting involved and having busy hands helped me to settle into a routine and a bit of a schedule.

I miss my family and friends from Argentina so much!  Especially jealous of some of the vídeos of my "little brother," Maxi.  Lauren looked like she had some really fun times with him lately, as he continúes to grow and change.  Well this was just a quick update on how the transition is going.

Chau.

Sleepless Sunday

Sunday 24 June, 2012,

I rose this morning to a brilliant day.  After several weeks of bitter cold, the last couple days have been gorgeous with the sun shining touching your very soul, but still cool amongst the shadows.  Norma and I had lunch together and we had a conversation, which I can now understand after six months, well at least understand the majority of what she says.  I watched a little T.V. and pasted a afternoon really "tranquilo."  I also took a short walk outside to stretch my legs, then went to church.  We talked about the Armor of God and how we can win against that attacks of the enemy.  Afterwards every in the church, whether I knew them well or just had met, wished me a good trip home and made sure to give me a strong hug.  It was a humbling and kind of sad experience, although it still had not hit me that I would be leaving soon.  With some close friends we went to a mall to grab dinner and ice cream.  It was after all of this, while I waited for a bus at 1 a.m. that it began to hit me.  I would be leaving in four days.  I cried out varies times that I didn't want to go.  Now I am laying in bed unable to sleep.  

Without a doubt what keeps me from closing a eye right now is the fact that I am left with only four more days in Argentina.  I am overwhelmed by how quickly the time has went.  I am completely amazed at the relationships I have developed and how I have made a life for myself in another country. However, I really don't know what to even do right now as my time sets.  While I am excited to see the sun rise from my bed with a brilliant yellow room glowing around me and rise to hear my parents and brother chatting over coffee below, there is a sadness that overwhelms and grips my heart and a fear that holds me captive.  

It is obvious to me that when I return people will want to know about my experience.  They will ask questions such as, "what was your favorite moment?" or "what did you learn most?"  I will be able to tell stories of God's providence or describe the city, the river, or the mountains, but there will be something that remains to be told.  If I can put it simply, this was not a vacation, where I went to take photos and see different places, but this was a life that I developed for myself.  I came here alone barely able to communicate at times, and during the course of the following months I searched out friends, I learned the language, and I made myself comfortable.  A large part of my soul, which many will never see, will always remain in Argentina.  I grew.  I changed.  I overcame challenges.  And I survived.  I should include that it is only by the grace of God.  I can do nothing with out him who is life.  

Now I am going back to my "home," however I feel as if I am leaving my home.  I am leaving the place where for six months I poured myself out to the family I lived with, my friends who I got to know, the church by whom I served, the university in which I studied.  I almost can't even remember my life before my time here.  I suspect that few will even see this and fewer still will be able to understand.  Within a day my life completely changed and I had thrown myself in over my head and now I have come up swimming.

It is now 3:17 a.m.  and still I am in my bed.  Oh, what will I do when I leave?  How my life will completely change again?  There are so many questions that keep me wondering what my life may have in the next six months.  In four days from now, once again, I will be over my head.  It is then I will once again have to trust in him; in God who is good and sustains me during such trials.  

Writing the Story

I have always thought it would be fun to be a writer, which I always thought was ironic since I am not naturally gifted in languages and writing has never been my strongest subject.  It is like asking a writer to solve a trigonometry problem.  Few, if any, would even be able to do it, but I am an engineer, who enjoys writing.  However, I would tell tales of heroes slaying giants and of beautiful women be captivated by a young men.  I would write of great depression being overcome by a brilliant light.  I would have these idealistic characters with an ending that concludes with "happily ever after."

However the in the middle of the story there would be a depression that seems unsurmountable.  The hero would have his back up against the wall.  The beauty would be faced with a difficult choice.  The bad guy would have all the guns and the power, leaving the lone hero abandoned and hopeless.  There are several movies that come to mind.  In the end of the Lord of the Rings, Sam is stuck in Mordor with Frodo, who can barely walk.  The armies of men have been practically crushed and are cower in Minas Tirith. All seems hopeless and lost.  Then suddenly Argon readies himself for battle and leads and out-numbered side to the battle field.  Suddenly a glimmer of hope shines through the dark clouds, and well we know how the story ends.  I love the Star Wars series, probably because I grew up with these movies.  I was a Jedi with my old wholly brown blanket wrapped around me.  However, I have cannot watch the third movie without watching "A New Hope," which was the first movie made.  The third movie ends with Anakin Skywalker choosing evil, the death of his new bride, Padme, and it appears the Emperor has won, but we know how that story ends as well.

While the dark times may come, and little light shines through the dark clouds... While storms may surround the hero and waves crash over the bow of his boat... While he may be out-numbered on the battle field, or have seen a recent defeat... While he may look out over a barren wasteland, and feel that he cannot cross it... While temptation has struck and he longs to walk away from the cause... While these dark times exist in every story, we know the end.  We know who wins in the end.

Maybe that is one of the requirements of a good story.  A story that captivates us, must have a time, in which the hero is lost beyond hope, but somehow finds a way.  Great story...

Alright lets now turn to our lives in the real world.  We are human.  Human means to have a depravity inside us, which begins with a thought, a whisper and grows until it consumes us the point of death.  This darkness we cannot overcome, because we are inevitably weak.  So here we are in the middle of our story as the we begin to open our eyes and realize the fight that surrounds us is absolutely pointless, and there is NO HOPE!  We can't do anything.  Our girlfriend leaves.  Our marriage fails.  Our family members die.  Our house burns down.  We lose our job. We lose everything in the stock market.  We end up addicted to drugs, sex, and alcohol.  We fall into depression. We feel empty.  We are looking for something to save us, but we rely upon our own strength; only to fall deeper, farther into the overwhelming darkness.

Unexpectedly a strange Man enters our story.  No one understands where He came from or where He is going, but He speaks truth.  This Man is the promised Man, the Man who will finally save us from the darkness, but the Man dies.  The hero who was the only one who could save us died, leaving us to die a similar death.  However, the Man had a different plan.  He was going to break the chains of death; while He would not conquer the Earth, He would conquer death, which brought freedom.  However we have to give up our lives.

Our story is a little different the many of the movies we watch.  It is not Argon's courage and strength that can save us.  Nor is it Luke who will bring us Hope.  What can man do on his own?  ---DIE?  I am realizing that in the darkest moments of life, when I find myself alone, falling, screaming and clawing at the dark walls of my cage will not help me.  I cannot will the battle on my own, but it is through Christ alone I find victory.  I may suffer, I may fall, I may lose, but in the end I know who wins...

Among the Waves

Over the weekend we had to chance to visit Uruguay.  It was a chance to go to another country and spend time together, as our time closes out here in Argentina.  Waking up early with little sleep, two hours to be frank, it was simply a night I could not sleep, we set out from my house heading towards the port.  Entering there was a lobby with a tall ceiling, crowned with a chandelier, which happened to remind me of the Titanic movie.  Yea, I know... don't laugh.  As we headed towards our seats it appeared less like the Titanic and more like an airplane, with chairs neatly situated into rows.  Finding a spot close to the window we made ourselves comfortable for the hour journey across the river to the port town of Colonia.

Arriving in the port we set out into the town.  Realizing that the rain had begun and would not stop the entire day, we bundled ourselves up and began a rainy walk to the old neighborhood.  Walking up a street the old stone wall came into view, which stood guarding the town with its might wood bridge crossing the moat.  Colonia was a small port down, which stood guard at the entrance of the river.

We took time to cross the wooden draw bridge, which was down opening the old town.  We climbed the wall and stood next to the might cannon, which looked out over where we had just walked.  It was such a great time.  As we continued to walk through the old town,  we saw the old construction and the cobble stone streets, where pirates, colonists, and spanish soldiers used to be.  We took some time to eat and buy some few gifts, but the cold began to set in upon us, so we took some time to drink some coffee.  I ate ice cream.  After a couple rounds of Euchre, I headed back out into the cold and the setting of what sun we could see.  Along with a few others we found remains of an old wall, which faced the sea.  With the wind whipping and the waves crashing we climbed the wall.  It was there we stood for at least a half hour, although our faces were cold and we could not feel our hands we stood upon the wall.


It was upon the wall that you could feel such power around you.  Nature raised it self up and roared at us, but we stood defiant in the face of the sea.  The wind attacked us trying to dethrone us from the wall, while the waves crashed taunting us.  Power seemed to swell around us as we looked over the grey sky.  Some stood silent in the face of such power, but I felt the need to scream out for more.  Feeling as if a battle was coming I screamed out calling it upon us, ready for what was in front of me.  I wanted to see the power of God rise up from the sea.

If the day had been a little warm I would of been found on the other side of the wall, among the large flat rocks, upon which the waves beat.  I would be shouting as the waves crashed upon the rocks to kick up mist.  Sadly in the cold rain, I remained upon the wall.

As we walked away, we could not help at marvel at the power of God, who controls such things.  I believe we would of been content to remain there in front of the power sea, mighty wind, and cold rain.      We were standing simply in front of nature beckoning its power upon us, asking for it to give us all it had.

As we walked way with the wind to our backs, we found ourselves on the opposite side of the peninsula, which faced the river.  A wooden board walk penetrated the river, providing us an opportunity to enter the gran river.  The waves stood still and the wind hummed, as the lampposts lit the misty night.  Walking out to the end, we waited.  Standing in silence for a moment, while thirty sailboats rocked as cradles in the calm river.  A peace came over us.  There was no screaming or beckoning, only quiet words shared, as the night seemed to bring warmth to our souls.

Remaining for a moment and being joined by our crazy comrades, the night seemed to lose its stillness, but the boats could still be seen rocking among the small waves and the wind could still be felt gently moving out hair.  Although we ourselves did not match the occasion.  Finally we made our way back to the port, played a few more rounds of cards, and headed back across the river.  Actually the boat first entered the sea, which was so fierce and powerful a short time before, followed by traveling up the calm river to Buenos Aires.

We had travel by the waves, been mocked by them, and rested in their stillness.  It was truly a remarkable day among the waves.

Tumbling Thoughts

It has been awhile since I have written anything.  I think that is partly because I don't know what to write. Life has not changed in Argentina, although I feel like I am changing.  I have only a few weeks left now. My mom has began to ask what I want to eat when I get back.  I have to say I love her.  Every day she shows me her love by insuring I am provided for.  My time has been consumed by homework.  This is the time of major papers, presentations, and exams, which as a college student they are not my friends, especially when I am being asked to do them in Spanish.  I guess that is the life you ask for when you go to a Spanish speaking country, live with a Spanish speaking family, and take classes in Spanish.  The homework has left little time for much else.

I have enjoyed the injection of new life here.  We received five new students a couple weeks back.  They have been great to get to knew, pass time talking, and really have been an encouragement and a blessing.  I am thankful they will have the same opportunity that was granted to me.  It has been such a good time, filled with great memories, great friends, and great lessons.  I wonder what people will say when they see me.  My hair is shorter, probably for the best, but besides that what has changed.  I refuse to believe that after six months in a foreign culture, I have not changed.  I am looking forward to seeing how God answers that question.

Speaking of God answering questions... No means no...  A lesson that I still cannot fully grasp.  No.  When he says, "no," I want to throw a fit.  Kind of like my three year old brother here in Argentina.  He throws some of the best fits.  I feel like it should be shown in the summer Olympics as a competitive sport, but what do I know.  These fits of a twenty-one year old consist of many different things, some of which include trying to spite God, which really is not only foolish, but completely absurd.  God wants what is best for us and everything He does is to transform us into someone more Godly, so why are we throwing a fit?  We still are learning the lessons of a child that our way is not always the right way.

I am racking my mind for a story to tell... something interesting that has happened lately in Argentina.  However, it is really difficult to think of something.  I mean my super exciting trips to the supermarket, or the movies we have gone to see, or my excursions to someones house really do feel worthy of being told. There was a time it felt like every three of four days I was in a movie theater.  Oh... which lead me to a point... there are movie theaters here, where you can buy ice to eat while watching the movie!  There is nothing better then that at least for me.

Sorry for the random babbling, but I wanted to share at least a little of what is tumbling around inside my head.

ADORE...

If you have ever had an experience that has seemed to take complete control of your life.  An experience that overshadows everything that you do.  Well lately the futbol that I play, the places I go, the people I meet, have not mattered.  I shouldn't say they don't matter, but they don't compare to the word adorar...

As I wrote the blog about Easter, and my mind jumped back and forth between Castellano and English, (Yes, it does do that now,) I realized something.  The word for worship in Spanish is adorar.  It may be obvious where I am going with this, but I am going to go ahead and continue.  Adorar...  Adore...

Sometimes the word worship can lose its meaning.  Many times it gets watered down with chores, or bolstered with a show.    It has been described in a manner that made it felt like something that can be touched.  Worship is not some mystical source or power that exists in some world beyond.  It exists everyday and in every action that we take.  In the simple prayers as we walk down a busy street and in the quiet nights that we spend on our knees.  Do we adore God everyday?  Adore...

A child of three years old can learn phrase and lines of a movie, know the names of the characters, and begin to develop a relationship with them.   He sits and plays with the figures.  He sleeps with these figures, and when he wakes he asks where they are.  He adores them.  As a child is captivated, moved, and thrilled by a movie.  Do we adore God? 

Music starts to play, and a bride walks down the asile.  She is wearing a simple white dress with a veil covering her still innocent face.  The crowd rise to their feet and strain their necks to catch a glimpse of the her beauty and elegance.  She does not have fancy jewerly.  Nothing hangs below her ears.  There is not a large stone upon her hand, nor is there anything that is draped around her neck.  No one notices these small details because she shines.  Radiance echos from her mere presense.  She is adored.  Do we adore God?

Life sends a whole mess of distractions, worries, and even pleasures.  All of these things, while are not bad, take our eyes off God.  Are we the child that when we wakes calls out, “Buuuuzzz!”? Each day as we rise out of bed our first concern is finding God.  Do we treat God as a bride, something that is precious, which does not need to be adorened by fancy jewerly to be seen as valuable?  Every time we see God we pause stand silent, and watch Him work.

I write this on the heels of a ugly week.  A week that I was distracted, worried, stressed, frustrated, and refused to seek God.  I am spending time to right this more to reflect upon what I am learning, then to challenge anyone reading this.  Sadly I don’t live this way.  I think of Grandma Nuñez, which some may know.  I heard a story about her once that to this day I can’t leave forget.  I guess it is what I want to be.  When she was asked, how her day was going, she responded, “Fantastic, today the Lord may come back!”  For me that is profound.  I think of all the little things that effect my attitude and mentality.  Do we adore God?  Do I adore God?


I wrote the latter back around Easter, but I have found the last several days worship, adoration have been on my heart.  I have found myself on my knees and on my face more frequently.  I have found myself shooting the lyrics of "My Jesus" by Todd Agnew.  "I wanna be like my Jesus!"  I have concluded that this song expresses my hopes, desires, and dreams.  I have want to be like Jesus.  I want to fall on my face and cry out, "Woe to me!"  I want to know him intimately and walk beside him upon a journey that takes me through this life.  This journey hurts, but Christ is my strength.  Scripture is my power.  The spirit is with me.   

Argentina Policía and Monotony

Life has a sense of monotony right now.  Days that were once filled with adventure, now seem plain.  Where there was once fear, rests normality.  Walking down the streets, taking the collectivo to the university, and or passing time with friends no longer have the suspense that once existed.  I am acustomed to the culture, to the lifestyle, and to the city.  It is a strange thought looking back in my journal, when every event, every place, every person had a strangeness to them.  There was something that excited my soul and that made me feel as if I was walking upon the edge of life.  Life is good in Argentina.  

If you have regularly followed my blog, you would have seen a gradual change in themes.  I have talked less and less about the things I am doing in Argentina, and more about the things I am learning.  I first realized that something was changing, when I sat in front of a blank screen trying to remember what I did during the week.  All I could think of were the things that have been changing in my life.  I believe this changed has dervired from the fact that life here has become normal.  I am still learning the language and the culture, but even that has been normalized.  The other day I was watching a movie, and the beginning began with a Star Wars like opening.  The background of the film was written in English, but the narrator spoke in Spanish.  I was listening in Spanish, reading in English and did not recognize the difference in language until after the fact.  For me that was a little bit of encouragement that I was oblivious to the fact that Spanish was even present.  

I am able to tell little facts, such as I played a bit of soccer Wednesday, I went out Thursday night with a French student and the grigos, or Friday when I went to the house of Pablo (the boyfriend of Krystal, who is a Grace student that now lives here) and had pizza and a movie.  However, those things don’t have the buzz they once did. 

With that being said, I did take a collectivo home at five in the morning friday night, which was quite an interesting experience with a loud drunk woman behind me, who I was sure, was going to puke.  I was thankful, when she only spit on the floor.  Yea, that is how bad it was.  When she finally got off the bus, I looked at Tyler, who was sitting next to me, and we both shook our heads.  Last night as we drove home from getting something to eat with Lucas, suddenly we saw blue flashing lights and heard a voice over the a loud speaker.  Looking at each other, we asked, “What did he say?”  Lucas shut off the music and the voice spoke again.  Still not understanding the voice, but Lucas pulled over.  Being asked where we were going and for all of our ID’s the police checked the car over.  Then let us go without explaining anything.  

I love the Argentine police!