YES!

Congrats to Matt MacDonald and Katie Neale who are getting Married THIS AFTERNOON.

God's richest blessings on your marriage. I love you guys.

We are but flames

I was driving home from a friends house last night at 1 30 in the morning, when I realized that I will never be let go of.
That morning I had met with a good friend of mine, Sandy who challenged me to think of what it means to be on fire for God. Why are we on fire at one moment and not the next? Should we always be on fire? We sat on a bench in a beautiful graveyard for awhile pondering, and discussing the idea of fire and what that is, and what it looks like.
After listening to my ideas and thoughts on it, Sandy inspired me with a new perspective. He alluded to the scene in "The Pilgrim's Progress" where there is a fire, and a man who is pouring water on it. This man is Satan, the Devil, Lucifer, whatever you wish to call him. Call him the ways of the world. He is doing what he can to put this flame out. However the Flame does not go out. That is because on the other side there is another man. This man is God. He also has plenty of names, Yahweh, I AM, Jesus. You could call him not of this world. He is pouring oil onto to the flame, so it grows stronger and glows brighter.
So here's what Sandy suggested; That maybe, at the core of our being, at the very core, Jesus is building a fire. He holds that fire, nurses it, and pours oil on it to intensify it. But there is this on going struggle between the fire builder, and the fire fighter. Some times the water is what we want, but really what our souls need is oil.
But here's the the amazing thing. God's got no give in him. He fights for us, for his fire without rest.
So as I drove home in silence last night it hit me. It replayed over and over in my head. All I could hear was, "I'll never let go of you, I'll never let go of you". And for once, and for real, I felt comforted that even in my weakness, my stupidity, even in this pile of worthless crap that I have built for myself, HE will never let go. Never.

P.S.

1) Sorry for the ridiculous final sentence on my last piece. Brutal.

2)Congratulation's to Adam Buchnea for exiting the womb 22 years ago today! Good work!

Minutes gone by

In what feels like minutes I will be back in Canada. It's actually days. And it's actually absurd. This trip, one that materialized out of small chit-chat almost two years ago now, has come and gone. I don't really know what to say, or how to feel. I am so excited to come home and see my beloved family and dearest friends. I am thrilled to be coming back to the familiarity of home, to see the sights, smell the smells, and hear the sounds of the place that formed so much of what I am. But there's just a little hint of sadness that I can't avoid. But that's the way these things work.

Really I just want to thank those of you who checked in on me, e-mailed me (whether it was once or forty times), read my blog, prayed for me, or even thought of me while I was gone. I appreciate and love you all.

I have learned more than I can imagine on this long trek, from England to Belfast, India to Romania, Israel to South Africa, Thailand to Laos, and of course Hong Kong. I saw amazing riches, and extreme poverty and everything in between and never, and I mean never, did I cease to learn. About myself, others, the world, my faith, and who knows what else.

This is all coming to an end from a proximity stand point. Yes I will no longer be constantly on the move country to country. However, the learning doesn't stop here. The journey continues, it changes and makes detours, but it always continues. It is a conversation that never stops. So this trip blog, in a matter of a day and half will go from a trip blog, to well, just a conversation. Just a conversation, with you, the universe, the birds and everything else in between. So feel free to stick around, I'm not going anywhere after the show.

Sleepy Songs in Hong Kong

So it's 1:34 AM and I'd really like to go to bed, I would. However, the man who sleeps next to me in our extremely crowded hostel (essentially 6 bunk beds in a very short and narrow hallway) has begun to sing in his sleep. At first I thought he was still awake and just lightly humming himself to sleep. I soon realized however that no, he is not awake, he is in fact asleep and he is singing. It also seems to be getting gradually louder. Oh the characters one meets.

An end to a means.

Where does honestly begin? Where does it end?

Recently I have been trying very hard to put honesty into practice in my life. By that I mean, I say what I want and what I mean. I have found that being honest from the get go of a relationship, or even a random conversation with Joe-guy on the street can be liberating and rewarding.

But at some point, in the practice of honesty, things have to get serious. Not just my inner most secrets and dreams serious, but a serious that involves other people. It involves changing the landscape of even already honest relationships. And that is scary.

In these times, when truth rears it ugly (or beautiful) head things will always change. Sometimes for the better, and sometimes for, well, the worse.

So my problem lies somewhere between speaking these truths, and not speaking them. When is it ok to keep truth to yourself? Is it ever ok? Or should I stop worrying about the end, and continue practicing the means?

This one makes my gut wrench.

Only steps away.

8 months ago it almost felt like this time would never come, it was too far away. But today I can feel it. It's all coming to an end. I always knew that a trip like this would pass much faster than I thought it would. But what I didn't realize is how ready I would be to go home at the end of it.

Over the course of the trip I have had tons of ups and downs, met tons of people whom I won't soon forget, gotten to know people much deeper than I ever had expect, seen things I never thought I would ever have seen, done things that have made my heart beat through my chest. I have learned more about myself than I could have ever hoped. I threw away my plans for my future, made new plans, and then discarded them as well, only to keep dreaming up new ones. I have given my self away, and stolen myself back. Realized that some things aren't as certain as they seem sometimes. Saw amazing hope, amazing love, and amazing faith.

And I loved every individual second of it.

But I am ready. I'm ready to leave this trailblazing life that I so dearly love.

Why?

I'm not sure, but it feels right. It's just time. So the countdown is on.

I'm coming home Canada.

My Honest Thoughts.

Today I was reading the blog of a good friend of mine, a friend who both inspires me to keep writing here as well as offering constant words of encouragement and love at all the right times. Often when reading what she has to write I find out truths about myself, at times things that I don't even want to know or accept. Sometimes it almost feels as if she is writing to me or about me. Anyways, today I was reading her blog, and to the side of the page there was a list that caught my eye. It caught my eye because it has my name on it. It was a list of the blogs that she reads, and mine was one of the listed sites. What caught my attention though is the title she gave it: Mikes Honest Thoughts.

The past week or two I have felt a little strange to be honest. I have felt a weird absence from my normal self. A slight emptiness I guess. I haven't been depressed, or even sad. If fact, I love South East Asia, it's gorgeous. I am with fantastic people, having a fantastic time. But there is just something missing. I've narrowed it done to about a dozen possibilities. Nothings simple.

Over the past few days my friend, whom I met over washing dishes a little more than a year ago, has been challenging me to dig deep and find search hard for answers. And to be completely honest I'm still not sure what the deal is.

However this afternoon I read this Quote by Jack Kerouac:

"The only ones for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn."

Over the past 7 or whatever months I have been traveling, I have over and over and over tried to figure out the person that I want to be when I return home. The "ones" that Kerouac is talking about above, completely describes the kind of person I want to be. I want to be that one.

I have a lot of friends that are Christians, or believers or whatever you like to call it, but I have few friends that I would describe as these "ones". That's not to say that I don't have friends that are those, because I do. And my friend I met a year ago over dishes, is one of them.

By no means is she perfect, but she has a fire in her that I haven't seen in many people. The awesome thing is that fire doesn't come out extravagant ways. It comes out in tiny ways (and trust me tiny is huge in this kingdom). She does the things that excites people that can see beyond the glitter and the glam, and she does them with joy.

So today as I thought about what was missing I stewed on Jacks words, and realized that maybe something isn't actually missing at all. Maybe it's been there right in front of me all along. I know what I want to be. I know how I want to be when this trip ends. The thing is I have to do it now. I have to be mad to live. I need to LIVE. I need not just to live BUT LIVE. Soak each moment, savour each taste, speak the words that need to be spoken, love those who need to be loved, and make no excuses. And I need to do it NOW.

I'm not sure this is the recipe to the weirdness that I feel right now, but I feel....better. Tomorrow is another beautiful new day, and I will give it everything I have, and take everything it has to offer.

As for her, I know she is far to modest to accept these words this easily, but from what I have seen she has been mad to live, mad to believe and mad enough to dare me to move. She burns, burns, burns. And I can't thank her enough for it. And those are just my honest thoughts.

Thoughts on a Platter.

I don't really have anything super significant to share with the masses that frequent my blog ( or rather the few), but I thought I would maybe sit down and see what little things I can throw out off the top of my head. We have free Internet and there is no one waiting for the computer, so I better take advantage. So we'll see where this leads me....or us.

Thailand is incredible beautiful. No where else have I seen the rawness of creation in the same way as I have here. India, Romania, South Africa, they all have incredible country sides, coasts, and scenery, but realistically they don't compare. This is next level.

Laos, while not the same, is equally as beautiful. If you ask me.

It's funny how it took me 7 months of traveling (even longer for those I haven't seen since last summer) to REALLY start missing people. I mean really. There are people that I miss at the core of my being right now, and in a way it feels good. It reminds me that there's a reason why I am going home, why I am coming to camp, and why I can't just disappear and wander the earth for the rest of my life. Despite the temptation.

I think a little too much sometimes, but I don't let it on (I think). I mean I try not to let it on. Recently I have been trying to not think so much. Just a little less. It's been good actually. At times I tire myself out, but it's the way I'm wired. Anyone who has had any communication with me recently can testify to that.

We have been traveling with Andrea Brown and four of her friends from teachers college in Australia. It's been very good for me to have people around, just so refreshing to be in a small community again. Plus they are all hilarious.

I'm getting oddly used to 16 hour bus rides. Three weeks ago, I never wanted to see another bus in my life. Since then I have been on several more, the last being two consecutive over nighters (16 hours) and it wasn't half bad.

Laos, may be the most chilled out place I have ever been. The locals are a lot like Thai people, but their accents are far less harsh and they are much quieter. Everyone is so friendly. Every restaurant is basically a bunch of beds that lay around a table. Brilliant.

I'm in a reading funk. I can't find anything that has gripped me for a little while. Any suggestions?

Can I tell you how excited I am to be back at camp, and not be on leadership? It may only be for a couple weeks, but it will be so great to be there and just be a part of the everyday routine. Nothing too serious, just doing what's asked of me, and then have some fun. It will be quality.

Alright well that's enough for now. Nothing very exciting here, but it's something. And somethings better than nothing....sometimes.

Paint me a Picture.

Sometimes I want to add pictures to my blog. Pictures of me, the places I have been, the beautiful people that I have come across. Sometimes I scour through the thousands of photos that Adam and myself have taken over the past 6 months, thinking of which ones I could add here. And every time I come to the same conclusion: There is no photo that I have come across that is adequate to accompany the words I write. And please believe me, this is not out of arrogance. In fact I also believe that the exact opposite is just as true. I have yet to be able to write words that justly portray what can be captured by a camera. Take the photo at the title of this blog for instance. At the current time it is a beautiful photo of a small Romanian friend of mine, Raul, and myself playing basketball, captured by Joni Allardyce (www.joniallardyce.com, Credit given where credit's due). I have tried to write words to bring out the personal meaning and joy of that photo. It hasn't worked. I mean I can't. The picture says everything that needs to be said.

I thought about this for quite sometime the other day (I had a 17 hour bus ride to help) and I began to list in my head the way that pictures and words compare and contrast:

Pictures can raise emotions
While words can steal the heart.
Pictures can show you everything
While words can give depth to everything.
Pictures can share a moment
While Words can bring two moments together.
Pictures can help us relive the past
While Words can change the future.
Pictures can tell a thousand words
While 10 words can paint a beautiful picture.

So, I realized that, despite my fairly new found passion for the art of photography, this isn't about pictures at all. This is about words. And it isn't confined to the ones I write. It includes them, along with the ones others write, the ones I speak, the ones others speak, the ones I see, read and hear. All words. The ones you use, AND the ones you don't

I have come to realise that the power in words is huge. No, it's humongous. They are both an amazing tool and a massive burden to everyone who uses them. And that's everyone.

It causes me to reflect on my own words of choice. What are the words that most commonly pop in my day to day conversation? How careful am I with my words? Do the negative words I use outweigh the positive ones?

As Adam and I have studied the book of Matthew over the past month, I have come to realise that Jesus really had a passion and a peculiarness for words. In Matt. 12:34, Jesus responds to the negative words of the Pharisees by first drooping the classic, "You brood of vipers!" line before saying, "How can you who are evil say anything good? For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks." He then reiterates this in chapter 15 by saying, "What goes into a mans mouth does not make him unclean, but what comes out of his mouth, that is what makes him unclean"..."But the things that come out of the mouth, come from the heart, and these make a man unclean."

Isn't it kind of funny how in a day and age where human rights (In Western society at least) have reached new heights, that we still use the language we use? While we waltz around pretending to love everyone equally and honestly, we drop phrases such as "This is gay" or "Don't be a Jew", amongst many others. Our excuse is that we don't mean anything negative against those people, it's just a phrase, something people say. But if you believe in Jesus, and believe in the words he spoke and is saying, then you most certainly must also believe that these words are much more than just simple words. They are the overflow of our hearts. They are much, much more than just meaningless phrases. They are who we are, in the deepest way imaginable.

So this goes much deeper than the outward lashes of negative language. It goes far beyond telling someone that they "suck" or using language that marginalizes and suppresses certain people. This goes for the words that no one ever even hear. The smallest of utterances. Under our breathes. In the most private of places. These are what determines what we are, inside out.

But this is only half the equation. Later on in Matthew (ch.25) Jesus tells the disciples the oft-quoted phrase, " I tell you the truth, whatever you did for the least of these brothers of mine you did for me. This implies that not only do the negative words we use reflect our hearts, they fall onto Jesus himself as well. Heavy. But here's the big thing. Look a little further down that passage and you'll find Jesus flip that sentence around. "I tell you the truth, whatever you did NOT do for one of the least of these, you did NOT do for me."

So It's not just about the words we use, It's about the ones we don't as well. How often do we not give credit or praise to others because we are too selfish? How often do we just walk by the homeless guy asking for money, pretending we can't hear what he is saying? How often are we scared to say the things that we know need to be said?

Words have the power to hurt, suppress, and even bring death, but they also have the ability to bring joy, love, and they can even breath life into people is used truthfully. Key word being truthful. It doesn't mean every word we ever speak will be fluff, it just means that everything will be spoken out of faith, love and unselfishness. I believe that we are a generation confused about words. We need to look deep into ourselves, our hearts and begin to use words that reflect the love, joy, and truth that we know. Words can bring darkness, but they can just as easily make that darkness tremble.

I know this sounds like the most accusatory and condemning blog entry I have written, but please believe me this is written first to the self. Myself. I am talking about me here, because I know there are things I need to change. However there is also the hope that I am not alone in this conviction, and that maybe my words will fall on the right ears. And if that happens, then these words won't be wasted.

I'd like to hear what you have to say about this. So if you agree, disagree, have a comment, hate me or like me, please, paint me a picture.

One for the Old Man

Happy Father's Day,
I love you Dad
See you soon

Your Eldest.

A White Flag

This is the resistance and a surrender,
This is my new covenant.
There has to be change, I cannot serve two kings.
I will put my hope in only one.
The one.
In the little things there is hope,
Then, in the little thing I must change.
I will speak new languages,
I will speak of great hope.
I will abandon myself to this and,
To Love my neighbor and enemy.
Let go of all else.
A white flag has been risen, and there will be no compromise.

A nonsensical, most likely boring update from J-bay

To be honest I write this right now, not sure about what I want to say. South Africa has changed the vibe of this trip thus far. It's swung the momentum of a trip that has been, without a better word to define it, intense, to a much slower paced, less dramatic experience. I'm not sure it's a bad thing, it's just different. In certain ways I'd argue it was needed, but I'll talk about that later.

We are in a small coastal town called Jeffery's Bay. It has one traffic light, one main road with a few stores, and a lot of coast line. It's a surfing community, which can easily explain it's laid back attitude. And to be honest for the most part we have bought into it for the time that we are here. We surf, snorkel, go for runs, play basketball or soccer with the locals and people from the bible school that are here. Not much else. A fair amount of our time in the morning is spent reading, which has been a great change of pace. And in the evening we find ourselves cooking fairly elaborate meals, having guests when we can.

So it's been really slow, and we have to be creative to keep ourselves busy. But as I was saying, I do think that while not a whole lot is going on, this is still an integral part of our trip. The first reason, it cleared my head. The first few days here were great for me in that respect. In a way, I kind of just dropped everything important (even my lost bank card) and let myself resolve a little bit. However the past few days, largely with the aid of the book I am reading at the moment, "Jesus for President", and the studying of "Matthew" with Adam, my mind gone right back into constant movement. I find myself staring at the ceiling at night, racing through 100 thoughts at a time. I have started to realize the severity of the things I have seen the past 5 months. The pure absurdity of it all. I have started to realize what it means to me. And wonder what it should mean to me. I wonder where I will be in five years from now, and why I will be there. I've been thinking about how my time will be spent when this is all over. How my money will be spent. The reasons I will do things. The commitments I will make. The ones I hope to make. The people I will invest in. The ones that I might pass by. My motives. My hopes. Dreams. Strengths an weaknesses. Fears. And how much these are all worth.

Could I sound more like a philosopher? I believe that for many of these, I have found answers. They lay in some hidden corner of my faith. But they are there. Some of the answers, aren't the ones I want to hear or find. But some make more sense than I could have imagined.

I really don't expect anyone to still be reading this.

I will leave it at that, I have more than enough to say to many people, but it feels like an overwhelming task writing to whole right now. I'll try and come back with something clearer in the near future.

Blessings from beautiful J-bay, S.A.

Where I am.

"I dig my toes into the sand
The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds
Strewn across a blue blanket
I lean against the wind
Pretend that I am weightless
And in this moment I am happy...happy"

"I wish you were here
I wish you were here"

That about says it.

The Collective Groan of God's Land.

It's crazy to think I spent the past week walking in the footsteps of Jesus. It's eerie even. The places they say we was born, the mount of Olives where he prayed the night before the crucifixion, to the proposed burial site where he rose again. It's absurd really. It's deep. Very deep.
Old Jerusalem is one of the most interesting places I have ever been (I'm sorry if I say that about everywhere I go). Just walking around the tiny city enclosed by ancient walls I was shocked to see the sudden changes from quarter to quarter. Each section (Muslim, Christian, Jewish, and Armenain) has a very distinct edge and flavor to itself. It's something hard to explain, you walk around one corner and you have changed from an entirely Jewish community to an entirely Muslin one. All within a tiny perimeter. At the same time there seems to be a harmony that connects them all, it's really hard to explain.
We arrived 5 or so days ago directly from Tel Aviv airport to Jerusalem, where we went to the hostel we had booked (Citadel Hostel). To our surprise, on arrival we were informed that the room we had booked was in fact not even a room. It was a mattress on top of the roof! A little surprised we weren't sure if we wanted to stay, but regardless went up to see the roof top. All I can say is that it was stunning. It overlooked the the entire old city. Breathtaking scenery. It was shared with about 20 other people, and before you knew it we had been accepted into their family. We all ate together, traveled around together, and slept under the stars and over the city lights together. It was beautiful. An experience of a lifetime.
The city has calls to prayer 4 times a day where the churched would get on their loudspeakers and lead everyone within the walls in prayer. Those moments where the type that sent shivers down my spine. It would start with the Rabbi or whoever would start it, and before long the entire city was moaning in prayer together. From our rooftop, it sounded as if the city stopped to collectively groan to God. Again one of those things that needs to be experienced.
The trip was filled with amazing conversation, under the stars at Citadel, floating in the Dead Sea, wandering the streets in Bethlaham, everyone wanted to talk. Never have I sat down in such a respectful conversation with such a diversity of people, everything from Jewish, christian, athiest, Muslim, and everything else between sitting, eating, and exploring each others world views. We even as a group celebrated shabbat (Jewish Sabbath), with dinner and a visit to the Wailing wall. Moments like these that make a world surrounded in darkness, war and tragedy seem Okay. It's the kind of thing that gives a person like me hope for the nations. All of them. There are hopes and dreams and ideas that we all share, we just haven't been on the same path.
I have so much to say about Israel, but no time. It's hard because I don't feel that I have even scrapped the surface of what I expereinced here. There is too much history. Too many current events. Too many sights to see. And Beauty all around.
Please ask me about it if you care to hear.
These past two days we have spent sitting on the beach in Tel Aviv, Which lies on the most beautiful mediterian sea. I have had a lot of time to sit back and ponder my time in Romania and Jerusalem here. The only major conclusion that I have come to is that I am filled with thanksgiving for the places and people I have met and will miss them all greatly. I have definatly left a part of myself in each of our stops so far, so I can only imagine that there are equally amazing things in store for South Africa in t-minus 2 days. Goodness me.
My prayers are with all of you. And I have a feeling I will be seeing many of you in the near future.
My love from Tel Aviv, Israel.

Give some light, take some.

As I sit in this seedy basement internet cafe in Bucharest 12 hours before heading to Greece on our way to Israel, I try and pull together my experience in Eastern Europe. I have loved my time here, absolutely loved it, every minute. Every second. But the more time I spend, the harder it seems it gets to piece this whole experience together, make proper sense out of it.
The last few days have been spent in Bucharest, enjoying the city here, which happens to be far more beautiful and interesting than I would have ever expected. I am thankful I got a chance to see it, but in all honesty it is not what I will remember about Eastern Europe, or Romania for that matter.
Despite this, the last couple days have been a good chance for me to reset myself. I got a few simple reminders from different people and events to center myself around who I am, and not to worry about the other stuff. I found myself eager to get out and explore, and to move, to search, and to find beauty in the smallest of things. I started to cherish the moment, the person, and the place a little bit more.
But there was a lot more to Romania than all of this. I have to flat out say that my time spent with the Romania Project was some of the most positive time I have had in a long time. For some reason it felt as if it fell into perfect harmony with my time in Calcutta. Certain thoughts, hopes, dreams, and convictions were all confirmed, as well as light being spread on others. To think that I was not even excited to come here in the first place...
As I mentioned in the post before this, we spent most of our time in orphanages and schools in both Cluj-Napoca, and Beclean. My heart lies most in Beclean, a small town in mid west Romania. Beclean in flat out beautiful. Some of my favorite times were just walking the country road, casting smiles on the elderly folk who would sit on benches outside their homes in the afternoon. The rolling mountains, the extraordinary skies, the small houses and farms, the simplicity. It's a place I would love to live for 6 months or a year, and just escape from the rest of the world. It's amazing that places like these still exist. Thank the Lord.
But the vast scenery of Beclean is still not what will resonate with me long after I leave this place. What will stick with me are the amazing people and moments I had while I stayed there. The one to one conversations, the group chats, the sharing of stories that often brought tears to the eyes of everyone listening. There was brutal honesty, unimaginable trust given, and some incredible bonds made. Sounds cheesy, but the truth can't be avoided.
I am thankful for everyone whom I met there. The Canadian team was beyond expectations (which were already high), the Romanians, even though an equal part of the team, served and treated as though we were family. You guys lit up the room with your vibrant antics and shared truth with all of us foreigners. It was an amazing feeling. So first I want to thank you to all of you guys, you all did wonders over there, believe me.
However the thing I will remember most about the trip to Cluj and Beclean, will be the children. The children who when saw love, ate it up with a desperation I had not seen before. The children who would beg you to play with them until every ounce of you energy was exhausted, and then would beg for more. The children who wanted to be held and kissed and cherished. There were so many of them, so many it's hard to think about. But there are a few who made impacts on me specifically. Andrea, the tiny 5 year old girl, whom I only spent one afternoon with, but was possibly the funniest kid I have ever met. She and I had fun to no end. Raul, who latched on to me from the moment I met him and never let go. Him for giving me some of the firmest, most honest hugs I have ever had. Bogdan, for stealing my stuff, then pawning it off on other kids. For being hilarious. And probably most of all, Rezvan, who taught me forgiveness. Who showed me what it really means to love your enemy. I will never forget that googly-eyed, crooked-toothed boy. I love him.
These are the things I saw and learned in Romania. I went to Romania understanding that I was there to be a light to them, I didn't know that by the time I left they would be the ones brightening up my life.
As in most of the lessons of my life, these things are unexpected, and untimely, but always perfect. I just hope I can keep my eyes open long enough to see them all.

Cluj to Baclean

Hello friends.
I don't have a ton of time so this will be quick. I just want to update you on what has been going on. Adam and I have just spent the last two weeks with the Romania Project, working in several orphanges and school in Cluj and Baclean. It was an amazing experience that for me was both and unexpected and needed one. I don't have the time to fully explain and shed light on the beautiful people and children I have met, and the gorgeous country I have surveyed. I will try and write something soon for you all, but you may have to wait until I arrive in Israel, which is in about 5 or so days. Until then, I think of and pray for you, and hope that you are more than fine.

Yours,

Mike.

Number 49.

It's hard to believe, as I sit here on a Thursday morning, hands wrapped around a hot mug of green tea, discussing the state of the church with Adam, that only days ago I was in the sultry heat of Calcutta, India. It's hard to believe that as I eat my slightly burned toast, that I am only heartbeats removed from Kalighat, a place that is a house for the dying, a house that I began to feel at home.

I was warned over and over that the only shock worst then going to Calcutta, and volunteering at Kali, would be the one that I received once I returned home. However, I am not sure if it's fair to define my state, post India, as one of "shock". I prefer to label it as "Sober". I have found many of the intense emotions that I experienced during my stay there have subsided. They have evaporated and left a film behind, one of startling realism.

It is hard to describe to someone what such a place, or time, can mean to you. How it can change your perspective. How it can force you to understand the simple things. The things that God has laid out right in front of you. The ones he begs you to embrace. I don't think it would be fair for me, to you or to myself, to try and make sense of these things in a logical, or theological statement. There isn't a way, that I can conceive or imagine that would allow me to accurately portray that.

The only thing I can do, is tell stories. But then again, story telling is fairly biblical, isn't it.

I am not going to try and teach through any of these stories, I just want to share with you the kind of things that we did in Kalighat. And maybe, through some stretch of the imagination, with some sort of luck, you could see why I feel the way I do about the place, and the people. Or maybe not, but I'll leave that to you.

One of the first things we saw upon our arrival at Kali was the carting out of a dead body. For me it was stunning. It was the first time I had seen one. I suddenly realized where I actually was.

A regular day there was quite straightforward. You arrived around 8 am and handed out the food, that had been previously lain by the sisters, to the inmates (that's what they call the patients). We would then clean their dishes, wash their clothes and lay them to dry on the roof. Once finished we would join the sisters in the men's ward and administer medicine and water to everyone. When this was finished it was about 9 30. That left us an hour to serve the inmates however they needed. We would wash them, help them go to the toilet, help bandage their wounds, massage them, and just talk with them. At 10 30 we would all head up and have lunch on the roof. By 11 we would serve the inmates their lunch, helping feed those who could not feed themselves. Do the dishes, say our good-byes and head off at noon.

It doesn't sound too difficult, and really it's not, once you are over the shock of some of the things that go down. You also have to be prepared to do things that will almost certainly make you throw up.

It took me a week to really begin to be able to fully serve the inmates. Everything was such a shock it was tough. Rather than finding myself present in a conversation with an inmate, I would be thinking about how gross the last thing I just did was, or dreading what I would have to do next. Once I got over these things, the time there became beautiful. I kept my head in the moment, and witnessed some amazing thing, that I would have otherwise probably missed.

However, on my second final day I once again found myself in a similar state. And rightfully so. There had been quite a few deaths on the male side that week and I had seen bodies being carried out on the regular. But to my surprise one of the regular guys at Kalighat came up to and asked me to help him carry out a body. I without much hesitation agreed. Placed on a stretcher we carried him out to the truck which would take him to crematory. I started to head back inside, when the same man yelled at me in his heavy Bengali accent that I wasn't done yet. And he told me to get in the truck. I was to sit in the back and hold onto the body so that it would not move around during the ride. I grabbed his ankle and we went. Once we arrived at the crematory we carried him inside and placed him in front of a large oven. The man uncovered some of his cloth so that we could see his face. He was one of the patients that I had cared for on several occasions. It was one of the strangest feelings. Then the man left me alone there to sit with the body in front on the oven. I spent most of that time in prayer, mostly for myself. He returned 20 minutes later with another man and a large bamboo stretcher. We moved the body onto the bamboo and the two men opened the over. I was told to push. I had to be asked twice. It was almost like I didn't understand, but I did. So I bent over and pushed the body into the flames. I admit, I felt ill. It was one of the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

There was not much that I took from that situation. I couldn't find much silver lining. It was only saddening. There were other bodies there with large families who sat and said their goodbyes. And then there was the man from Mother Teresa's home, who had no one. Just a white, foreigner, who didn't even know his name. It broke my heart, that I had to be the one that payed him his final respects. It broke my heart even more that there will be so many more like him.

One of those men, was number 49. Each inmate was assigned a number as it aided in administering meds and also the fact that we didn't know the names of many of them. Number 49 held a special place in my heart. I tried my best to be impartial and love all the inmates the same, but there is so many, and I guess it's in human nature to want to be close to someone. I never found out what this man suffered from, but I assumed it was stomach cancer or something like that. He could not keep food down. He would eat breakfast, or lunch and then puke it up 20 minutes later. Every time. He was so skinny at first it was painful for me to look at him. He was so weak that he could not even speak, I never heard a word come from his mouth. But somewhere we connected. Everyday, I would keep an eye out for him, because he was often left for up to a half hour to lay in his own vomit or piss. I would shower him and and dress him in fresh clothing, clean his bead and lay him back down.
I spent a lot of time with that man. I would sit with him for as long as I could and talk to him about anything. I doubt he understood anything I said, but he sat and he listened. I could tell by the way his eyes connected to mine he was happy to listen. He would almost never respond though, it was too much effort for him to even nod his head. I would often sit and massage his back or just rub his head. I loved the guy,
On my last day, I spent almost an hour with him after I had cleaned him (he had peed the bed). We sat. And I talked. He listened. And Looked at my eyes. As usual, there was no response. And with only minutes left before I would leave Kali for the last time, I asked him if I could pray for him. He nodded for the first time. It almost brought tears to my eyes.
Once I had prayed for him, I said my good byes. I had already explained to him that I was leaving. I hugged him and stood up to leave. As I left I overheard the doctor say that he would live no more than 2 days. It broke my heart to leave. Number 49 gave me that glimpse of God that I spoke about in my last entry. He has left footprints on my life. And he never spoke a word.

There are hundred of other stories I could tell you about Calcutta. Everyday had many.

But now, I head to Romania. I leave in a couple hours. So It's time to move forward.

Please pray for the team that has already headed there. I really believe beautiful things are going to happen. Because they happen everywhere, we just need to look for them.

Lying is done with words and also with silence.

This was this quote that I randomly found while reading miscellaneous Internet jargon today.

Sometimes things pop up in front of you at just the right time, and hit the heart strings or the gut, whichever you prefer. Sometimes they don't mean much, and others, well, can be defining. This was one of those moments. Time will tell which category it falls under.

Before I continue, I want you to keep in mind, what I have written is out of realization, a revelation of sorts. It is not depression, or sadness. In fact it's joy. So be happy and bear with me.


I arrived back from India about 24 hours ago, and yet largely of what was weighing on my mind reached back as much as 11 months ago. Back to something so tiny, so minuscule, that in the moment I had thought nothing of it.

Last summer, at some point in June, a friend of mine and I were discussing the summer that would be. She, who would be one of my staff that summer, was trying to encourage me that I was the man for the job, that I was chosen to be there for a reason. She then turned to the person beside her, looking for confirmation. That person was someone that at the time I had never spoken to, despite having worked at the same place together the summer before, however we would become good friends soon after. Evidently, it was not until quite a bit later that I would realize that her first words to me, would be some of the most impacting words I would receive all summer.

She agreed, "People think very highly of you around here"

I first brushed this off, flattered, I dismissed it to a degree. But it lingered. It was a ticking bomb planted right between my eyes and it would eventually have a chain reaction that I believe has a lot to do with the faith and worldview that I adhere to at this very moment.

I soon came to question the validity behind the comment. "She was just being nice", "I'm sure she would say that to anyone".

But that soon turned ugly and I started to panic. "Why would someone, I don't even know, say such a thing?", "What does she even know about me?", "What kind of things has she heard about me?"

These thoughts filled my head for days afterword, until I came to a sharp conclusion. Either everyone has some mixed up image of me, or I had been lying to everyone, I had been a fraud, leading others to believe I was something I was not.

I felt terrible, all of my hidden faults, that I kept in dark places, shaded from the eyes of those around me, had just been brought into the light, by a single, harmless sentence. They were staring at me, and I felt sick.

I don't believe I blatantly told lies to prove to others that I was a great, or righteous person, but I do question the intent, the purpose behind my actions at times. I feel that in the silence of my own actions and movements, I worked in ways to gain approval and acceptance, at times I suppose even using God as a pawn.

It was a scary thought, and it left me rattled and unsettled for a good period of time. I didn't want it to be that way, I wanted to set things right. But how do you tell everyone that you are not the person they think you are? This sat with me, and stewed in me, but very little changed. Time passed. I forgot about the comment. I forgot about what it meant to me, about me.

Ten months later, I find myself on my way to India to volunteer at Mother Teresa's MOC, remembering those words. They rang in my heart, just like they had before. I began to question why I was going to India, and even why I would help anyone other than myself.

These sound like disgusting questions, and in a way they are. But I understood why people do, and should do these thing, I just didn't understand why I was doing them. I hated the fact that there was any glory in it. And the fact that I felt like I was seeking it. I hated the fact that people told me I was a good person for doing these things. I wish I didn't have the attention. It made everything I did feel fake.

That is until I got to Kalighat

My first stay in Kali will no doubt be a defining moment in my walk in this life. There are little words that will bring any sense to what happened to me there, and what it is I took away from it. But it is nothing short of beautiful. It sounds cliche to say something like that from such a trip, but the truth is unavoidable.

I was given the opportunity to tangibly love people in Kali. I believe it is one of the only times in my life I have found that in myself. There I saw that I could love people, and that I could do it minus the gratification of others patting me on the back, and encouraging me, or even seeing people get better or healed. People simply just don't come there to get better, they come to die. Loving them is the only tool we have available, it's the only thing that matters. So if I couldn't do that, then there would be no reason for me to stay. Things in me had to change, they were forced to.

If God taught me one thing at Kalighat it's this: There is not glory in loving God's people, there is sacrifice, and humility, pain and struggle. But through all this we get glimpses of God's glory and to revel in this, is joy.


Many struggle with self image because they want to be approved, accepted and loved by their peers. I most definitely did. I admit I still do at times. But somewhere a long the line I struggled even more with trying to live up to the existing image that people had of me. This hurt me as much if not more than the former.

The truth of the matter is I had put my worth and value in the scales of those whom I seek acceptance from, devaluing myself and my relationship with them. All of this instead of placing my value in my maker, and centering myself on the thing that I am called to do. Love.

That is it. It's so simple it's crazy. And scary. But Perfect.

This entry is a confession. It's to whomever is reading, listening. For those of you who do, I am ever thankful. Every note, every encouragement that you guys leave for Adam and I has brightened our trip and lives.

I have much more to tell you of my time at Kalighat, so I will try and write one more that pertains more to the events there before I leave for Romania.

Until then, I bid you adieu.

City in the Clouds.

To be honest it's my head that's in the clouds.
Adam and I decided to go to Darjeeling this past weekend, and arrived back in Calcutta this morning. Over the course of the weekend we traveled close to 40 hours, so if I am all over the place, or just don't make sense, please don't judge me.
Thursday night we jumped on the overnight train that takes us to the base of the mountain. It is about 10-11 hours by train to get to the closest stations, where you then grab a jeep that takes about another 3-4 hours to reach the top of Darjeeling.
The jeep ride was incredible. Aside from the fact we had 12 people in a jeep smaller than any minivan you have every laid eyes on.
The scenery was beyond all expectations. Beautiful vegetation builds it way u the entire side of the mountain, making for some of the most ravishing views out the back side of our car. It's too bad I was scared for my life most the time as our driver speed up the mountain at alarming rates, passed other jeeps, and dared the cliffs edge to hold us from a 200 foot drop off. It was an experience.
Arriving in Darjeeling, the first thing I noticed (aside from the ridiculous view) that it was cool out. That's right we had left out home of 37 degrees for the welcoming cool air of Darjeeling.
There are not a lot of words that I can put on paper that will give you a real idea of what Darjeeling is like. It's a very diverse place despite only homing only 100,000 people scattered all across the mountain face. There where a lot less Indian people than expected and a lot of Thia, Chinese, Nepalese and a mixture of others.
The most interesting of Darjeeling's many layers is it's political activism. Almost every day we were there Adam and I followed a political rally, whether it was the local Tibetans gathering to protest Chinas rule over Tibet, or the locals of Darjeeling demanding that they receive independence of West Bengal as Gorkhaland. The air was always filled with some tension of some sort, which kept Adam and I chasing the sounds of drums and chanting.
Again the scenery at the peek of the mountain is ridiculous. Adam and I spent a day hiking around the side of the mountain, making our way to the peek (which incidentally is an Indian army fortress, where we weren't exactly received with open arms). Nonetheless, it was breathtaking.
All in all the trip was amazing. From the political drama, to our small cottage of a hotel room looking over the mountain, to our now favorite Indian food stand to a day spent white water rafting (level 4 rapids if that means anything to you), Darjeeling was all in all amazing. I must say that returning to 36 degree weather today and heading directly to Kalighat was a bit of a shock to the system.
It's amazing the difference between Calcutta and Darj, they are worlds apart, yet you look at them on a map and they are remarkably close. It's defiantly a world worth seeing. And boy, I'm thankful that I am seeing it now.
I am sorry if this isn't the kind of post that you are used to reading from me. It's a bit more of a tourism blog than anything thought provoking. I didn't really let you into my mind too much today so I will have to put something else together soon. Don't worry I have plenty to say, and lot's of time to do it. I'm sure your not worrying.
Anyways that is me.
We leave India (tear) next Sunday, which will be a sad experience, however I am very excited to have one last hurrah with all of the wonderful people in Southampton and London. I will most certainly spend some time in reflection and let you know what I come up with.

I hope you are all taking life as it comes and loving every moment.

All of his love.

Michael

Kali.

Hello all.

I didn't plan on writing again before this weekend, but I am. We are headed to Darjeeling this weekend for 4 days, and I thought I would write when I got back (and I still may), but I just wanted to let you guys know what is going on with Adam and I at the moment. For the past week we have been volunteering at Mother Teresa's MOC (Missions of charity) Kalighat house. It's more commonly referred to (by westerners) as The house of the Dying and Destitute. Sounds fairly intense doesn't it?

Well I won't play it down and say it isn't. One of the first things Adam and I saw when we arrived was two dead bodies being carted out. That was eye opening.
We frequently see wounds that are beyond repair, and hear screams of bloodcurdling pain and torture.

I left the first day with few words for anyone. I was zonal. Trapped in my own head for a few hours. I knew that the things I had seen and heard where things that many people will not experiences in 70 years of life. I had to process them all in a 5 hour span.

But I came around. My mind cleared and I prepared myself to go back the next day.

Seven days deep, I can now say that working at Kalighat is as profound an experience I could have asked for. It's almost left such a mark I feel that it isn't easy to just tell people about it. Amongst all the anguish and pain there is hope and thankfulness, and laughter, and many other moments that help me get out of bed at 6 30 am everyday.

Seeing the thankfulness on one parallelized mans face when he is washed, massaged or adjusted is something I can't justly explain. Another teaches Adam and I handshakes, another just likes you to sit with him.
One man Ajay (who is not terribly ill) loves to help the volunteers and sister administer medications and care for the others. He also draws and loves to share is drawings with us. Every time I find myself in a moment where I am struggling or tired, or angry at the world, one of these patients does something to calm me, and often spread a smile on my face.

I can say I love working there. It's scary, and well out of my comfort zone, but it has spread much joy in my heart as well. I am very thankful.

On a side note, let me tell you about the area of Kalighat.

The word "Kalighat" actually refers to the Hindu God of destruction. Right next to the MOC house is actually the Kalighat Temple where you can see them slaughter dozens of goats and lambs every day as sacrifice. People behind the temple are drinking their blood and whatnot. They live in fear of Kali.

All I can say in India in Bananas.

Anyways that is all for tonight. I hope this finds you all well.

All of his Love for you and your loved ones.

Michael.

Namasté

A word sometimes used for greetings in India, more often those of emotional connection, If you have read Shane Claiborne's "The irresitable Revolution", you will have come across the term. It means, "The God in me sees the God in you".

Sometimes the English language is insuffiecient, at least in the most basic sense.

Calcutta (or Kolkata, depends on whom you ask) has continued to be an eye opening experience, that without a doubt, will leave footprints of all sorts on my life. There are so many little things that I could talk about here, that have changed the way I view the world, and examine my life, but I won't. It would be exhausting, and disabling. I need to write a book just to catalog the wild array of emotions and thought I have had since the moment we landed. It will have to wait for another day, or conversation. Or you could just come here.

But I will however indulge you in a little slice, a tidbit, a smudge if you will, of my experiences here thus far.

One. The other night, I happen to be idle in my room, tired from the long humid, and violently hot day, when I heard music, and cheering, yelling. There were drums and flutes and chanting of sorts. I immediately sprang to my feet, grabbed my camera, and ran out the door, to find that there was a Hindu celebration of sorts taking place in the small alley way right outside our hotel. It was singly of the most amazing things I have ever seen. There was so much energy, and the excitement of it all was increased by the use of lighting and constant movement, and smiles, hands in the air, all in a dark, dingy little alley way. It made me forget that people used that very same alley way as a public washroom. It was an absolutely beautiful event. So I began to film take pictures frantically. Soon Adam Joined me. But before I knew it, an Indian man latched himself onto my arm and pulled me toward the center of the chaos. A loud cheer ensued and I began to dance. Yes, I was in the center, dancing with a hundred Indian men surrounding me. hilarious. A moment frozen in time, that I won't soon forget.

Other than that, there have been plenty of even more amazing occurrences that I would love to tell you all about, however for the most part they are less glamorous on paper, so I will leave them for another day.

We are halfway through our time here in India. I am already sad about leaving. I would love to be here for longer, much longer. I will be back, that I know. There is too much for me here. Too many amazing children, beggars, sisters, brothers, mothers, shop owners, old and young. Too many beautiful people, that given the chance have so much to say. They have the faith (whatever it may be) of children, and are some of the most trusting people I have ever met. It makes me wonder where we have gone wrong back home. I guess it's a give and take situation. You can have community and trust in one another, streets littered with people, chatter, and movement. Or you can have privacy, room, security, and working sewage systems. Not both.

But maybe we can.

Anyways that really came out of nowhere, disregard it if you please. Or think about it, and take me seriously, look around at your neighbors, the community, and questions it's validity. I know I never really do. Just something to think about.

Anyways I am going to go. I am tired. I am up at 6am tomorrow for a full day with Mother Teresa's MOC. Keep Adam and I in your prayers, we are praying for you.

Your's,

MickD

Hello Friends.

I am going to keep this short, I do not have much time.
I hope all of you are well, I miss see all your faces regularly. As many of you know right now I am in Kolkata. It is one of the most amazing cities I have ever seen. It's hard for me to even explain it in words. I wish I could fly you all out here and walk with you. Then I wouldn't need words. This place explains itself.
The streets are littered. With people, garbage, stray dogs and cats, Little huts where people sell things, beggars hands, children running around, the hurting, the starving. It is littered. I feel at almost anytime I could reach out and touch 10 different people without moving.
Adam and I live in a small concrete room that barely fits the two of us. We have a bathroom, it you would like to call it that. It's more a hole in the ground.
It is incredibly hot and sticky here. Though I welcome the heat. In fact I love it.
It is an incredibly hectic place, so much going on all the time, so many people trying to show you what their selling, so many people everywhere.
But I love it here.
It absolutely stunning, everything about it.
In many ways it's so beautiful. There are so many colors. Textures. Movement. Character.
The children here are so loving. They just want to play with us sometimes. Today Adam and I walked by a huge bridge that is near the middle of Kolkata, and where invited to play cricket with a bunch of kids that where playing near the underside. They taught us how to play, and it was amazingly fun. We took pictures with them all, gave them some water and left. No words could be faithful to the experience we had with them. I hope I see them again.
We worked for mother teresas house yesterday. I will write more about that another time.
I thank God for bringing us here. I knew it would be crazy. I didn't know that I would fall in Love with it as fast as I have.
Thank you for all your prayers. Keep them coming. Please.
I pray that you all are of good health and that you realize God's blessings in the good moments, the mundane, the hectic, and the sad. He is great.

Nope.

I am not dead. I have not disappeared. I have just not written to all you folks. I have been too busy on exciting and wonderful adventures to write blogs. But due to popular demand I have returned once again.
Listen to me talk like anyone really reads this thing. I think 3 people asked what was going on and one person mentioned my blog, so I have decided that I will give it another shot.
Okay so the last month has been filled with ups and downs, highlights and nothingness, I have been filled with frustration and been beautifully encouraged. So pretty much the same deal as anyone else in this world.
So as I speak I am about to leave for my second to last day of work in the city of Southampton. It is my eighth week at my crappy kitchen job where I do next to nothing all day. It's actually quite painful not having things to do at work. I feel so unsatisfied when I leave. But it is almost over. And I have some stories thanks to it (re: my first e-mail). So that has dominated my past 2 months really.
Two weeks ago, however, Adam and I went on a little adventure to a place called Ireland. We took a coach bus from Southampton at 4 am into London, and wandered around there for the day. London is incredible really. I am fairly naive to the beauty of cities outside those in Canada and the northern States, but they really pale in comparison to London. At times I couldn't believe how at what seemed every corner I turned was a place more amazing and gorgeous than the last. It was a lot of fun to just spend a quick day jaunting around the city being serious tourist. Oh, and we got to have pizza hut buffet.
So that evening we took another coach to Stansted airport (which is entirely a mission, if you can avoid it, then do). We then flew into Belfast city airport ( the only airport smaller than Stansted) where we got picked up by big Mike Currie, and Douglas Hunt. We spent most of our time in Belfast for the weekend, which was amazing due to it's history that has left it's mark all over. We also made a jaunt up to the North Coast, one of the most beautiful places imaginable. The rest of the weekend was filled with birthday celebrations, whiskey distilleries, dancing, singing, watching a burning building .... burn, eating chips, professional rugby games, non-professional rugby games and most importantly drinking plenty of Guinness. It was wonderful.
Thanks to how cool Adam and I are, Doug Hunt is now coming to Southampton next weekend. Which is awfully exciting. We are actually going to be attending a prophetic conference at our church, community hall. It should be interesting.
Oh and Doug is defiantly cooler than I am.
Moving direction now.
So far my time in Southampton would be generalized by the word "frustrating". Pretty much since the moment I arrived here I have been in a spiritual battle, mostly fighting with myself to be honest. On my arrival I began to immediately find things in people and the church that I deemed to be "not right". I very quickly became almost angry, frustrated, and introverted. Long story short, and honestly if you care to hear the long story, ask, but I really realized is that while there may be thing wrong with people and churches and everything, but what was truly not right, was me. There was things in me, that God was poking and prodding at because I had ignored them, or was not aware of them. I had a hardened heart, a blind spot, a gaping hole that if I did not see it eventually, I would fall into it. Sorry for such a arbitrary spat of thought, but like I said, it's yours to investigate.
All aside my time here has been, well, moving. I am utterly thankful for ever second. And as it comes to a close, I think back on it and laugh. Funny how thing in one moment seem utterly earth shattering, and in the next are obsolete.
Thank you for all of you who have spoken great words of wisdom, love and grace into me in the past few weeks. you know who you are, but know that I am infinitely grateful for you.
I promise I will try and write more often. I hope that some of you will update me on your lives soon as well. I miss many of you.
All of his love.

Trip Update.

I apologize that the updates on the trip have been far and few between. It hasn't been easy here in england. I don't get on a computer as much as I need to, to do such things. Also, while England has been amazing to us, the adventures haven't been exactly things that I would write home about. It's been a lot of spending time with friends, going to pubs, and playing football. The people here have welcomed us with amazing hearts and it's been a lovely time, just not easy to write about. Towards the latter half of our time here there should be more to write about. As I will have left my job, have gone to Ireland, likely have backpacked through London for a week or so, and visited family whom I have never met. Could be news worthy. Let's hope.
So a little bit of an update on the trip status itself. Most of the plans have stayed in place to this point. There is one large change however. We have decided to make a detour to Iceland. In all honesty we made this decision strictly based on what we saw in Sigur Ros new film, "Heima". Yup. Rash? Yes. Necessary. Even more so.
On my job.
I work for the Uni. of Southampton in a cafe. I am basically the chefs right hand man. I spend most of my days just doing random little tasks for him such as cutting veg, and cleaning up after him. I spend a little time doing some dishes. That about it. Not exciting, but it's paying bills quite nicely.
I can't wait to be under the hot Indian sun.
I must run to work now, I'm pretty sure I won't make it on time thanks to feeling compelled to write SOMETHING here.
Anyways I pray that you are all alive and well and that you understand the blessings that God has placed in your life. Oh, and for world peace.

Mike.

P.S. See Heima. Now.

(Rant) Pardon me

but does anyone else just not care about celebrities? I have to listen to British Radio 1 all day long at work Monday to Friday. Mixed amongst a little music all they do is talk about different celebs. The have on the hour updates, breaking news, and even a segment each evening devoted to Britney Spears. I sometimes throw up a little in my mouth. I'd rather be kicked in the throat than hear another word about Britney.

Ok, I'm done.

The scene:

Church on a Sunday evening service downtown Southampton.
Families, the young, the old. Mothers, Fathers, Brothers, Sisters.
And the homeless.
They are scattered throughout the congregation.
I spot one across from me that I had spoken to 10 minutes earlier. His breath had reeked of whiskey and cigarettes. Sat down, he is too drunk to stand. Then worship starts and he raises his hands, and his voice. Everyone around him does the same. One woman puts her hand on his shoulder, raises the other and sings. I felt church in that.

Bangers

and mash. Curry. Fish and Chips. Deep fried mars bars.
My Body hates me.

allo mates.

Sorry about the delay on my first overseas entry, its long overdue. I hope the two of you that have read my stuff before haven't already given up on me. I promise I'll try harder. Promise.
So I have lived in England for a week, and it has been quite honestly amazing. The first few days I had a mad case of jet lag, and I spent most of my time walking around in a haze, or napping randomly. I napped a lot. I arrived on the 27th of December so I had about a day and half before Adam arrived from Toronto. I spent most of my time alone either scouring through Southampton city center eating deliciously British sausage roles, or napping.
May I digress. The English Country side is beautiful. So quaint and green, and quiet. There are roaming horses and cows and boars and other animals everywhere. They seem to be completely unaware that there are cars and people and other animals. They just stand there. On the road. On lawns, In fields, Wherever.
English football is fantastic. Particularly the Pint and a Pie that you get before the game.
There is a lot of Indian food, and its delicious. I have never eaten so much Indian. No complaints.
The people here have been so hospitable and accommodating and friendly, more so than I would have ever expected. The Boni's have been ever so gracious to offer us their house, but have also completely served us both tangibly and intangibly. They are very fruitful people who love to share with others. Their servant attitude has been eye-opening.
We have been completely welcomed by seemingly everyone that me meet. No one seems bothered to stop and chat or even hand out their phone number in case of need. Needless to say these people have made our transition easy and enjoyable.
We are attending a church that lays in the center of town, it is beautiful and filled with passionate people. There is a cafe that is held once a week for homeless people that Adam and I will be serving at. I can't wait.
Really this post is ridiculous. There is no real body and no resolve. No story. Just ramblings. Me pointing out obvious character traits of English society. I'll try better next time. Sorry.