a little bit of Everything

t's been another good week here in London. This week I saw a little bit of everything. A good old rainstorm, fireworks over St. Paul's cathedral, John Mayer, and Stomp, just to name a few. If I didn't keep a journal of the places i've been, there would be no way I could keep up with everywhere we go.

Someone asked me the other day to share with them what I was learning so far in london. I figured that would be a good thing for me to write about, so i'm going to dive into what i've been learning so far. here we go.

1) i love having ryan hoffman and elliott dansby in the rooms on either side of mine.

2) I have grown in my appreciation for the small things. let me explain this a little bit. I think we have a tendency in life to diminish certain events in our lives and exalt other better times. It's hard not to really. No one wants to go through hard times, but we can't seem to get around them either. Here in London its easy for me to tell you about all the awesome things I'm doing. But I'm learning that whether I'm in London or whether i'm in Birmingham or wherever else I am, each season of life has its own unique quality to it. I don't want to get stuck in the habit of just "looking forward" to things in life. I want to be satisfied with where I am at. As Jim Elliott, former missionary, said, "wherever you are, be all there". That's been my motto for the semester, and I'm trying to ingrain that principle into my life. It's more or less living a philippians 4 lifestyle. Being content in any and every circumstance, knowing that I have Christ as my guide.

3) Good shoes are a good thing. especially when you walk miles every day

4) japanese style roll up beds are amazing

5) sweaters are a must as the temperature creeps lower

6) I love a good coffee shop. one of the things that just makes my day better is going every once in a while to the cafe down the street and getting a coffee and croissant or apple strudel....which leads to ...

7) oh my goodness i love pastries. and there are so many of them here. strawberry ones are the best, but really, any of them are great.

8) it is GOOD to praise the Lord. i love taking part in worship with the people here and learning how God's people love Him in different ways.

9) sitting down at least once a day to read a little bit of the paper or read a good book is essential for continuity. when you live in a house like this with 20 other people, you quickly find this out.

and here is a little bit of what the PEOPLE here have taught me...

ryan- rooming next to him is a blessing. and hearing him laugh is like watching a five year old laugh. its amazing.

andy - andy brings a certain consistency that is just so needed here. and he eats at least 24 sandwiches a week. and he thinks deeply too

elliott- at least a few times during the day i will hear elliott's harmonica. a nice reminder of the south.

crosson- not only does he fix computer things, but he's just a very considerate friend

trey - when he's not making a joke, he's either A) talking about how amazing a certain classical piece is or B) making tea and throwing ice cream into it....another just quality friend.

and i could go on. but i wont. this is a little taste of life here. i'm loving it. and i think i'm learning how to take it all in and not let it ooze out of my brain the next day.

thats it for now. grace and peace

mark.

Perspective, the continual story

Something you realize more and more as you move into new circumstances is that life is a continual flow of movement and change. We were created for change. And we are in need of something that is Unchanging. It's a wonderfully simple paradox. Change is something that I so often resist, and I think i'm not the only one who does this. When you get comfortable somewhere, you just don't want to change. But then there are those times you do want things to change. So you've got this great-big continuum where the only constant is change.

Life is going to change, regardless of how we choose to look at it. I'm a different person than I was 1 year ago, physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc. I've added new layers of experience that have shaped me in new ways. Going from being a sophomore at samford to interning with a relief organization to studying in london. That's just a little bit of change. But I don't want to harp on change too much, I want to focus instead on how I'm reacting to it.

Like many others who have done similar things like studying abroad have found, you dont just go overseas and "become a different person". Sure you change and enjoy new experiences and allow them to become a part of your life, but if anything, you also realize in a deeper way your core values. You rediscover, in a way, those things that at home have lost their novelty. They take on a new shine when you are away from them.

You can either sit and mope about missing them, or instead be thankful that they mean something to you. I'm talking about things like college football saturdays, caf meals, that friend who you talk to every once in a while who always makes you smile.

I'm finding that as I'm over here in London, there's a tendency I have as a human being to want to shift to either end of the spectrum, either ignoring those things I miss, or missing them too much. The cool thing is, though, that there's a balance somewhere in the middle where you begin to appreciate what either side can give the other. I can have those things I cherish as a sort of anchor that lets me sail on and try new things. I can be both entirely open and entirely secure at the same time, and thats the beauty of real perspective.

I'm going to continue this thought very soon here, but I think this is a good starting point for thinking about change and adaptation. I'll continue on soon.

mark.

Appreciate

Well, I am going to tell you how things are going. Let me find some good music to play in the background as I write this. Okay, there we go. The Weepies will do for now.

Well, since I last wrote, much has happened. But it always works that way, regardless of whether I'm in London or Birmingham or Texas. Time moves forward and life changes. It just seems to change in a little more exciting manner when you're in a beautifully enchanting european city. And of course I happen to be living in one right now.

Life is different over here, quite different, in fact, than life in birmingham at samford. But in a good way. I'm slowly getting used to the continual noise of the cars outside my window and the constant sight of concrete, pavement, and large structures built many hundreds of years ago. The beautiful architecture, I'm sure, will get less exciting over time, but you know, I hope it doesn't. For the time being, everytime I pass by one, it's like i'm reminded again at the complex history that I am a living part of.

It's really the small things you appreciate in life, and it's no different in London. Sure the buildings are amazing, as are the big parks, but its still the small things that add the icing to the cake in life. The cup of good tea on a slow afternoon, a conversation with a new friend, moemnts when you realize a little more fully the magnificence of our Savior. These are things that make life so neat to me. Yes i used the word neat. haha.

I've always been a fan of really cool bookstores, and london is full of them. I actually need to get to reading though, for I am doing way too much browsing and too little reading. Oh well...

Boy is it a blessing having friends over here. It just makes life so much easier having people to share experiences with, unload to, and laugh with. I'm enjoying getting know everyone here better, even my good friends that I've known for a while now.

Okay, before I go on 100 tangents, I'll stop and tell you a little bit about my weekend trip to France.

You know, I've always had this terrible impression of French people from when I was in Paris for a few days as a young lad. I dont know why i developed such a bad impression, i guess it was the waiter who gave me the scornful look when i tried to order a coca cola. Anyway, those olds impressions were put to rest this weekend.

We started out flying to Tours, a city with so much history. But we couldn't stay and take it all in, because we had bigger and better things to do, like take a 3.5 hour train ride to Caen. Now let me stop here, and remind you that my French consists of all of about 7 statements. Mostly useful in getting around. But not too good with everyday conversation. So keep that in mind as I keep telling you about my weekend. Just imagine all the goofy, awkward conversations I had with French men and women. So after arriving in Caen, we decided to spend the night there, since it was too late to catch another train. The city was magnificent, with several large gothic cathedrals.

Then it was on to Bayeux, a small city outside of the famous beaches of Normandy. It's a fun word to say, Bayeux. think of it as saying " bay-you", with a nice french accent. and there you have it. Well, we didn't get to stay in bayeux, and only glimpsed the majestic cathedral from a few miles away. We wanted to see the beaches of normandy and the american cemetary instead. And it was a great choice. I had been there a few years back, but andy and trey hadn't been, so that was well worth the time.

Completing our weekend tour was the city of Mont. St. Michel, a unesco world heritage sight. It's absolutely amazing. I don't think i have a large enough vocabulary to adequetely describe it to you. In the words of andy farmer, "its just one of those places you just nearly stop when you see it for the first time". Yeah, its like that. Splendid, fantastic, majestic. Beautiful. Awe-inspiring. All of those things and more mixed into a nice big stone castle on an island.

Then we came back to London. A little tired but satisfied with our little excursion outside the British Isles. And coming back felt like coming home should feel, so thats another good sign that I'm adjusting better to London.

All in all, things are going well. So thats an update of what i've been up to, i'll try to post a few things here and there about my thoughts of being here, because i'm really trying to write more than i usually do, hoping it will make me a better writer. ha

okay, until next time, au revior!

mark.

sunrise in London

As I look out my window this morning, I see one of the miracles of life that I so often overlook: sunrise. It's coming up through the trees, poking in between the branches, providing light that is both simple but yet still incredibly beautiful. Even in a crowded and bustling city like London, which boasts an utterly amazing skyline, nothing can compete with this simple act of beauty. It gives my eyes the reality that I read in the Scriptures in 1 John 1:5 : "God is Light, and in Him there is no darkness at all". It's a good thing to see His creativity and character in action this morning.

It's hard to convey with words just how much I'm enjoying my time over here. I could tell you about all the amazing places and things I've done, but I don't really think that provides much of a picture of how amazing it is. See for me, it's not just about being in a cool city. Certainly this city has so much rich history and vibrant culture, but that's just one of the added bonuses. It's living here with people who have the same purpose as me, and who are fellow children of the living God. It's experiencing new things with different landscapes with people who love our unchanging and ever-faithful God.

With all that is going on around me, and with all the busyness of seeing a discovering a new city, it's so easy for me to leave the garden unattended, so to speak. My faith and my time with the Lord are so valuable to me, but it takes more effort to carve out that space for it. So much of me, I realize, is selfish and self-abosrbed. Like I read this morning from 1 John, "If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." (verses 8&9) That is the beauty of redemption through Christ, though, in that while I recognize how wrong I am, Christ cleanses me through the only true way of righteousness.

There is so much to learn, and so much to unlearn.

On to another day of exploring this new city, finding the hidden cool things, wondering with all the other people at the amazing big things, and finding those places which create a sense of belonging and which will allow me to call this place home if only for a few months.

Open skies and bigger waves

Tonight I am in a house in the relative calm of Dallas. The air conditioner hums tunes of cool air circulating in each room. It's the only sound I hear. My situation is far different tonight than the those residents all along the Yucatan peninsula. While the night sky outside rests peacefully suspended in the air, a meaner sky greets my neighbors to the south.

I was flipping through the channels, and a news broadcast came on announcing the imminent threat Hurricane Dean posed to the Yucatan peninsula, and alerted viewers that the hurricane had now risen to level 5 hurricane, the highest level they have to rate hurricanes. Gusts of nearly 200 miles per hour characterize level 5 hurricanes. This is no light event. Nothing to yawn about as my mind fades to thoughts of sleep.

It just amazes me how vast and varied our experiences are here on earth. I will soon go to sleep, and will probably awake to the sight of a normal sky laced with a normal, hot sun. Trees outside will still be rooted to the ground. Cars will be right side up, ready to drive. The lights will turn on and the shower will work. Tomorrow morning will be a far different story for those on the Yucatan.

And so goes life. We sometimes think that we can sympathize with others, but really, we can't. We can offer what limited condolences and small amounts of grief we can muster, but in the end, we are miles away from understanding each other. It's too easy to go to sleep tonight whispering prayers of safety and protection for the people of the peninsula, but I will wake up without the threat of a completely altered life.

For this reality to exist, though, magnifies the power of a far greater force, community. You see, each and every human being is placed within a circular realm of community, as crazy, unique, and intricate as each may be. Our webs of community each look as different as snowflakes under a microscope, but they are what bond us together. The experiences each community faces together reinforce and strengthen that common thread in the fabric of the community. It brings to life the vibrancy and texture of human relations.

As horrible and awful as things like hurricanes are, they are the yeast that gets in the dough to make it rise. Community is only as strong as it is in its weakest and most vulnerable moment. Maybe thats why the human spirit rallies when tragedies occur. For a few moments we put down our differences and decide to clothe ourselves with compassion, carefully tending the wounds that need healing. It's those memories that guide our communities forward, because we realize that in the end, while the world may not care, our community cares, and that is enough.

I can't understand what the people of the Yucatan are going through tonight, or how they will respond in the coming weeks. But I praise the Lord for providing us with communities that give that much needed support and comfort. I praise the Lord that many small groups of people will huddle together tomorrow, holding on to the most precious things in life, cherishing love, and realizing that life can move forward, as bleak as it may look. And I know that in some small way, the broader community surrounding the smaller webs can reach out and provide support in ways words cannot express. Simply caring, and acting on this compassion allows us to share in the piecing back of life for a broken community.

The response will be so deep, with so many layers, that it is hard to understand how healing occurs. But this I do know. The core of that healing is found in the community, where common experience paves the way for love, compassion, and help to take place. And surrounding that central core comes the healing found through external means, from other communities. And that, I realize, is what ultimately bonds us together as one giant community.

As different as we all are, as varied as our communities are, and as numerous as they may be, we all live on the same planet and breathe the same air. We all share the same need for love, community, and acceptance. And tonight I go to sleep marveling at the creativity of a God who orchestrated the design of community, knowing that we humans, as strong as we like to think we are, ultimately need each other more than we will ever know.

ho Kuriov mou kai ho Theos

mark.

A little consistency

Well after a little more than two months in the sweltering heat of phoenix, i'm back at the home where I grew up in, back in Texas. I made the long, 16 hour drive in two days, and am grateful to not have to drive anywhere of significance for the next 4 months or so. That's right, London is coming up really soon. Spending all semester over in London is something I have been looking forward to for a long time, and it's quickly approaching. So the next week and half will be filled with resting, reading, some good old fashioned exercise, and packing/planning. Good times....here's a little thing I wrote about a week ago while I was in phoenix. I wanted to share it, so here it is....

Do we get it? Do we actually get that we are children of the Living God? I so often find myself glazed by the sway of monotony, that I do not realize the astounding fact that I am bought with the precious blood of Christ. The blood. Real, flowing, deep red blood, that gushed from His hands, His head, His side, His feet, staining real wood cut by real people. I buy the lie, every day, that says that I am merely living for myself. I lose the perspective of eternity and the bright glow of truth that command nothing less than my full attention.

I love being out on the water. Especially out on the mighty ocean. Sailing through the ancient waters that have carried men and women on journeys since the dawning of time has a sort of expansive effect on your thinking. Some would call it freeing, I like to call it awakening. Like all those things in life that stir up distant rumblings in your soul, like a distant thundercloud bellowing deeply into the ever darkening sky, certain experiences wake us up to the novelty of life. We begin to sense that life in its most renewed form follows us like a shadow that is never noticed, but always there.

The few times I've been out into the great unknown I always had an epiphany-like thought that flew through my mind. A thought with wings that would perch upon a branch in my mind, if but for a few seconds, allowing me to take deeper breaths of living truth. I would get the image in my mind of me, standing on deck of a small sailboat, riding the rhythmic waves as a golden sun stealed away silently into the far horizon. I would put myself there, wondering why on earth I was imagining such a thing.

I think it's because this. In our world, we refuse to be small. We object to the slightest hint that we are not strong, empowered people. It is a degradation to be called weak or frail. These aren't things prized in our world. But deep inside us, there is a distant voice that sometimes catches our attention, and we realize with great certainty how small we indeed are. Like being caught in a heavy thunderstorm, with deep purple clouds swirling, wind howling, and rain throwing itself sideways. Or when you stand in a valley surrounded by tall, jagged peaks. I would imagine that people living through the World Wars would have felt this way constantly, especially those enduring heavy bombing of their cities, like Britain. The feeling that you have very little control over your life makes you feel small and frail.

It's something that we just do not realize very often in our lives, sometimes, sadly, until we stand at the brink of the end of human breath and see the vast canyon looming ahead, swallowing us up into its never ending abyss. This would be eternity, and so often we fail to live with it in mind. We get glimpses every once in a while, but we quickly busy ourselves again with the pestilence of life, not wanting to face the reality that haunts us to the core. That death is real, and will happen to every one of us.

But death calls a different song for those who find their identity solidified in Christ. It is not a moaning, gasping sound, but instead an enchanting melody of an eternal life with the Giver of Life and the Lover of Good. With that in mind, our existence here is precious, for we are not condemned in our living, but are instead freed to experience the richness of the Kingdom of God, right here on earth, through the Holy Spirit residing in each believer. Where, then, oh death, is your sting? The great resounding voice of Paul, echoed in the Scriptures rings true today:

But when this perishable will have put on immortality, then will come about the saying that is written, "Death is swallowed up in victory. O Death, where is your Victory? O Death, where is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law; but thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 15: 54-56)

lampposts and the sky

Do you ever feel small?

Tonight I had leftover pizza for dinner. Leftover pizza. Yum. Doesn't the sound of those words just make you want to eat? Okay if you didn't catch that, i was being sarcastic...Needless to say, the leftover pizza left me feeling a little "ehhh", so i figured a good walk would be in order. I threw some laundry in the washing machine and headed out the door. I was greeted by a gust of hot, stale wind, not the kind of breeze you envision when you picture a nice walk. The sun had just slipped past the mountains in the distance, and the sky held cascading layers of blue, moving from light to dark as the eye followed its path up to the awakening stars. It really was something to behold.

I tried to take in the entirety of the night sky in between lampposts. Add lampposts to the list of reasons why not to live in a suburb. I mean they are great if you are interested in safety and security, but they just block out the sky. Anyway...as it grew darker and all traces of sunlight ceased to exist, one thought slipped into my head. I began to think about how small I am in the grand scheme of things. If it's not already evident by the sheer numbers of other people in the world, or by the size of a mountain as you stand at its base, the vast expanse of the night sky sealed the deal for me. I am small, like grass, as the psalmist would say.

I began to think about all the ways that we try to magnify our existence into something bigger than it seems to us now. We are a people who will do anything to be recognized, and we crave attention, respect, and honor. I am the worst at this. I sometimes laugh at the way I put on heavy armor, trying to appear like a warrior, when all i really am is a little shepherd like David.

This idea of desiring to be something grand comes from a deeper desire to be known. We run ourselves ragged and spin around until we are dizzy just trying to be known. Why are so many people in this day and age so lonely, yet have so many friends and numbers in their cell phones? Something just doesn't add up.

We fall further away from love and acceptance by all our efforts. I don't slow down and breathe in the fact that I am known and loved by the Savior of the world enough. Too often my vision is blurred by the narcissism that plagues every one of us. Getting past that, though, I realize that through sheer grace I am known and loved and accepted.

The stars faded in and out as I walked past lamppost after lamppost, and as I finished the walk I felt small, yet at the same time size seemed to escape from my thinking, even if but for a few moments. I realized that in the end, that size, like so many things, points directly at God, revealing yet again that He reigns supreme over our world. And I am thankful for this tonight.