Minneapolis... again.

Sitting in my cousin Rachel’s kitchen, I can’t help but think that tomorrow I start the last traveling leg of my journey. I will be home in a matter of days, and back to the familiar. Mom and dad are moving back to the country house... which will definitely be different. I hope and pray that God will reveal the reason for the house not selling soon. The whole process of being inbetween two homes has been stressful on them, and therefore stressful on the whole family. I wonder if underlying rifts between family members will ever be resolved... maybe them being back out there will be a catalyst for needed communication. Who knows. One thing I’ve been noticing more than ever in recent days, is that all families have serious issues... everyone parents differently... all parents are flawed... and all children are a product of their parents flaws. Looking at the Sheild side of the family in contrast to the Hanson side, both have just as many issues... they are just in different forms and are dealt with (or not dealt with) in different ways. It’s easier for me to focus on the negatives that have come from both sides, but as I’ve had time to dwell on things, I’m trying to replace those with the good that has been past on. Facing the nearness of loosing the generation that raised my parents is hard for me to swollow. As I watch their decline in mental and physical health, I can only think that they simply did the best that they could given their surroundings and upbringings. They passed on generational blessings and curses, and ultimately it’s up to us to acknowledge this and respond to it accordingly. What I mean is, we have the power to change how we view our defining story. While there is nothing I can do to change my upbringing or that of my parents, I can ultimately choose the lens through which I view these situations, and I strongly believe that viewing things differently is the first step to overcoming generational pitfalls. God has helped in the changing of my lens, because I’m starting to realize how he views us is how he wants us to view others, and unfortunately many people (including myself) struggle with a distorted image of how God views them. Realizing that God sees us as beautiful, and accepting his grace and mercy in every area of our weakness is key. Also knowing that through Jesus, we are blameless before God. For me at least, this has been the first step in viewing others through a different lens. Thus concludes my two cents for the day.

Part 2

I had to do something else with my time. The effort to sleep proved futile, the in flight entertainment system has crashed twice, and I haven’t had the energy to attempt any reading. Not that reading takes much energy, but certain books definitely feel like a work out for the brain. I’m not even sure I have the energy to continue where I left off in France... I just needed to write. The flight is full and contains many children under the age of 8, and many of them seem to have lost patience with this flight. Most of them happen to be seated in my general vicinity as well. Thank God for iPods.

So back in France, I was arriving at Bethanie. Now Bethanie mind you, is the name of the farm where the Bless Network is located, not the town. The nearest town is Livarot, and the nearest city where we also did most of our outreach, is Lisieux. Driving through the countryside to Bethanie was very picturesque. The sun was setting, casting a glow on everything, and there were old stucco and brick farm houses scattered amidst the fields and vineyards. About every 10 minutes of driving, we would past through a little village with crooked roads and buildings right up to the road. Amazing.
So the first day or two I was really in my shell... I amaze myself at how shy and reserved I can be in new surroundings. The first few days, however, were solely focused on building us up as a team and just getting us to let our walls down... which ended up being quite effective. It’s really just a hard thing to put into words what that time was like. I guess when you go through something like this, it’s like this little but impactful blip on the radar that can best be described as internal fault lines shifting. That might not make sense... but it does in my head, and that’s what matters.

So moving on. After the first week at Bethanie, I had almost no desire to continue on traveling. Then main reason being that it suddenly felt empty to me. I was going to be a tourist and take pictures and see the sights... but the main goal was to simply say that I’ve ‘been’ there. Relationship had become more a priority, causing the desire to ‘tour’ fade in the distance.
I can say that I actually got to experience France, not just tour it, and by experience I mean to see the ins and outs of lives, and live along with the people. That was the substance that I needed... and I didn’t want to leave.

Hmm... on that note, I am finishing this at O’hare airport, and my flight boards in 20 minutes, so I better pay my bill and get moving. Ooo... only two hours until I see Franke :) Continued next time...

Dublin... again.

Well here I sit at the Dublin airport 7 weeks after the first time. It’s crazy to think that it’s been that long already. This chapter of my life has been an interesting one to say the least. There’s way more than I could probably put into words, but I at least have to recap so that I can look back on this with as much information as possible.

So flashback to 7 weeks ago... I was doing the same thing I am now... drinking a Bulmers cider and blogging, but then the whole time thing happened, and things are a bit different on this end. I had no idea what to expect of this leg of the journey, and looking back on it, I got more and less than what I expected. The first six days were spent with Steph and Jon, just adapting to the time change and cultural differences. The weather was warm and sunny, and I was a little bit freaked out about traveling by myself in Europe. I honestly didn’t even think about the mission in France much, but more on what was after France. I was anticipating and looking forward to seeing different cities, taking trains, taking pictures, and all of the touristy type stuff that laid out before me. The picture in my head of the Bless mission was blank... I had no expectations and no previous experience as a guideline. I guess if you made me describe what my expectations were, they would have been pretty black and white and in the stereotypical christian missionary form. Not that stereotypical christian missionaries are bad, but I think that I had walls up and pre-judgements before I even flew to Europe. Then after a six hour ride on the ferry, we pulled into the port at Caen France. I can’t quite describe what I felt, but I get chills just thinking about that moment. There was a child like joy and giddiness that came over me as we drove off the boat, and looking around at the signs and buildings I all of the sudden felt oddly at home. It was as if a part of me that had never found it’s resting place finally had rest. At that point I think that my expectations were turned upside down. I suddenly knew that there was purpose in me being there and it was going to be a far cry from the black and white image I had in my head.

This concludes part one of this insert, as I have just enough time to pee, have a cigarette and get to my boarding gate. To be continued...`

Rainy cloudy blah

Another grey day... Eff. You don’t really realize how much you take sunny warm summers for granted until you spend time in a place where they don’t exist. It’s August, and the weather here is comparable to spring in Seattle or Portland. No wonder the natives here don’t smile much. Today is borderline cold... like sweater and jeans cold. Mixed with the damp, it permeates to the bone making a hot bath sound like heaven... or to wash the dishes just to warm my hands. It’s Norah Jones weather I think... because in my little world Norah is condusive to hot drinks, blankets, cuddling and the like. She’s a fall playing into winter sound that seems to calm the inside while one looks out upon cold and bleak.

Speaking of cold and bleak, that’s what my blog page has been looking like with the absence of my writings... and I could apologize, but I won’t, cause there’s nothing I can do to change the lack over the last weeks. I’m writing now, and that’s what matters. I have only 5 days until I fly back to the states, and I have no idea how I will feel once I arrive. I am a little excited and a little sad at the same time. Excited to see Franke and know that I still have a 1400 mile journey remaining, but sad to think that the 1400 miles will be the final stretch of my summer of madness. I was going to say Journey of Matter there... but I know that my Journey of Matter is far from over. It’s only just begun actually, because I will probably look at life from a bit of a different perspective because of the last several months. No matter what the future holds, I will smile because God has given me the gift of this chapter in my life. He has grown me, challenged me, met with me and broken down with me. I would be nothing without him, my journey would be empty without him and I will forever give him the glory for the perfectly and beautifully broken path that I walk in this life.