Revelations

God is not fair...

Isn't that wonderful? A friend of mine and I were talking through the night and through much of the early morning on Saturday night and one thing that she said repeatedly to me was... "I can't believe that there is a good God who allows so much suffering to happen. It doesn't seem fair" (all quotes are paraphrased as it is sometimes difficult to remember what was said in the early hours of the morning) And it isn't.

It isn't fair that some people starve while others gouge themselves on food.
It isn't fair that some people must beg for money while others have it thrown at them for hitting a ball or playing a role in a movie.
It isn't fair that some people are born into countries where corruption, disease, and hunger are rampant while others are born in countries where justice, healthcare, and provisions are plentiful.
These things aren't fair.

But...
It also isn't fair that each of us can make mistakes, some big and some small, everyday and be forgiven of them.
It isn't fair that we, who can only do good as a reflection of Him who is good, should get credit for making a difference.
It isn't fair that someone else had to make a sacrifice so that we might be free.

There is a lot that isn't fair. I agree with her. But, God gave us freedom. He gave us an amazing gift in that we can choose. We have a choice. My friend, who doesn't believe in God, is as free to make that choice as I am to give my life into His hands. In giving people the ability to choose God took away fairness. People can make good choices, which positively impact themselves and those around them. But people can also make bad choices, which hurt not only themselves but God knows how many other people.

My friend responded to this by asking, "Why? God could have made a world in which there was no bad. A paradise where every choice given to people was between one good option and another good option. Why couldn't God do this?"

I don't know. I guess because then there wouldn't be any good options. In order for there to be good there must also be bad. If there is no bad, logically, there can't be good. It wouldn't make sense. Not that things need to make sense. But where would the good be in a choice if it wasn't really an alternative? If the only thing that a person could do was something good, then they aren't really doing good. They are doing what they can do. Which means there is no choice, which means that God wouldn't have given us such a gift.

My friend brought up that "Heaven", which the two of us have talked about, "is that sort of place, why couldn't He have skipped the Earth part with all the suffering and just have created Heaven?"

Again, I don't know. I guess he could have skipped the Earth and suffering part. I feel relatively sure that God doesn't gain any pleasure from our suffering. But I'm not sure all the suffering was really part of the plan.

Somehow we then got into a discussion about 'God's laws'. And after fumbling through things for a few minutes I finally realized that we actually do know God's laws. Love God. Love your neighbor. Everything, from any religion I've heard about, pretty much boils down to these two laws.

To which God, through my friend, put me on the spot like few times that I can remember. My friend looks at me, at something like three in the morning and says, "That sounds a lot like a human king. Why does God need us to love him? Isn't that just being boastful or proud?"... I can hear my own voice echoing through this question as this is something I've dwelt on for years. Why does God need us to love him? What is God trying to show by requiring that his creations love him first and above everything else? An excellent question.

It took me a few minutes. Or maybe it took me a few years as I have actually been pondering this for a while. Why does God require our love? And then God showed me...

"He doesn't need our love." And really it's as simple as that. God isn't being boastful or prideful because it isn't something he needs for him.

"He doesn't need our love. But it is kind of like this. I love my family. I really do. There have been hard times. There were times when I was so angry at my family. They infuriated me. There were times when they disappointed me. There have been times when they have made me sad, or hurt me, or confused me to the point that I didn't know which way I was headed. But, because of my love for them I kept coming back to them. I kept giving them chances. I opened myself up to finding out why they made certain choices that impacted my life. And there were times in life it was only through the love that I had for them that I didn't just throw my hands up in frustration and walk away from the whole crazy lot of them. Only love."

"Now a lot of that could be said for my relationship with God too. There are times when I've been mad at God, frustrated when my life went down a different pathway than I would have chosen, sad about things that only God could have changed, confused about what His plan for me is, hurt when prayers weren't answered in my time or to my preference. And while I can physically see my family, I can touch them, I can hear their reasoning, I can talk things out with them, I can't really do that with God. I see him in a sunset but that doesn't show me a face that is hurt when I'm mad. I can hear him in the songs of children but that doesn't give me an explaination for why my plan didn't go accordingly. I can talk to Him, and do quite often, but it gets difficult to wait for answers from a God that I must have faith in because he isn't tangible. But God has given me a way to deal with all these emotions. He says, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind". He tells us this not for Himself, but for us. Because when we love Him we are more apt to let go of our anger and come back to Him for an explanation. When we love Him we are more understanding when our life takes unexpected turns. When we love him our confusion doesn't matter anymore because we know that our life lays in the hands of one who is so powerful and so all-encompassingly GOOD that we need only sit back and enjoy the gift of life that we have been given. Our love for God is really another great gift that God has given us to help us remain faithful to Him."

As the two of us sat upon the rocks, meters from the lapping ocean waves, and staring up into the brilliant full moon that shown down upon us we both realized that for the first time the law, Love the Lord your God, was actually a gift from a benevolent ruler. I don't know if my friend is any closer to being able to know God, but I think he gave both of us something to think about, and maybe, "by God and power", as the Krio saying here goes, a seed was planted that night.

The moments we live for

Today the incredible happened. I was working on report cards while my kids ate there snack this morning. Then they finished their snack without my needing to tell them to, put their bags away without my needing to tell them to, and miraculously, went and got busy with educational type activities without my needing to tell them to. Some kids worked with clocks. Some kids played a reading game. Some kids traded money back and forth. The volume of the room was decent. When one child got tired of playing the reading game she quietly went and joined the clock gang. And for twenty+ minutes I got to sit back and watch my amazing kids teach themselves, without any guidance from a teacher.

It was amazing! One of those moments that happens once in a blue moon, can easily be missed, but if identified makes a teacher's heart glow with pride.

Speed Racer!!!

or

The Flash!!!

or

Greased Lightning!!!

Call it what you will, but that is one fine piece of machinery right there folks. Many people passed this miracle on wheels by before yours truelly was struck by love at first sight. Walking down the overcrowded streets of Freetown a glimpse of heaven caught my eye. And like the wise Wayne once said, "She will be mine, oh yes, she will be mine". And thirty minutes later, my pocket slightly more empty, and a new set of break pads freshly attached, I wheeled this beaut into those same over crowded streets of Freetown. A quick ride home, a quicker change of clothes, and FREEDOM! Speeding over winding roads, the ocean breeze running through my hair (while I don't have much I could still feel the breeze running through it), over hills, around walkers, through cars, rider and bike melding perfectly to create a blur the likes of which haven't been seen in these parts in many a day.

This was not the end but rather the beginning of a new age in Freetown. Rarely in history are individuals able to identify a groundbreaking, earthshattering, beginning of an era moment at that time, most people would say that such recognition is best left to historians to fight and argue about hundreds of years later. This would not be one of those moments. At the very start of this relationship it went down in the books as a lifechanging event.

Later rides include, but are not limited to...

The ride to the grocery to pick up ingredients for dinner. While it may sound like a boring old ride to many readers, DON'T BE DECEIVED!!!, between the rocky path, the unseasonal downpour, and the extremelly large backpack full of breakable goods, dodging in and out of traffic was made much more difficult than normal. Overall an extremelly harrowing experience.

The ride to the football match. Aww, such memories. Thus far the closest to town the dynamic duo has gone, the traffic was much worse than the west side of town normally boasts. The early morning jaunt was just the warm up that the doctor called for before jumping into a ninty minute game of football.

The epic ride to work. I live just above sea level. My school is on top of a mountain. A calf burning ride up...and up...and up. The bike and rider made the trip in less than half an hour but were able to enjoy splendid views of town that someone in a lamo car wouldn't have time to see. The throngs of people lining the street waved flags and called for autographs from the superstar, but alas the pace of half a mile an hour could not be broken for anything, whether it be adoring fans or gigantic army vehicles that almost ran me over. Finally, after climbing a mountain and losing half my weight in sweat, school was in sight. I coasted down the only hill I'd seen that morning to make it to my classroom an hour before school started. (I didn't know how long it would take to get up the mountain)

The real fun happened after school ended and it was time to go home. The gigantic, collosal, can't even see the top mountain that me and the machine got to crawl up that morning was now ready to be tamed in a splendid blend of athleticism, perfected mechanics, and dumb luck. The mountain was humbled as man and machine raced round bends, overtook cars and people, and generally just fell in a controlled manner down her sides. The mountain almost got its revenge when a couple goats wandered out in front of the man/bike combo, but even this was not enough to stop the decent that was to be known throughout the land as "the stupid white man on the rickety bike". For those of you who don't speak Krio that can be translated into English as "Wow"!

The adventures will continue. No rode is safe from the two who travel as one (which I'm thinking of making into my Indian name). No hill can't be tamed. No really big mountain can't be avoided. Yes, this is definitelly the beginning of a new era.

Songwriter?

Wandering through the town, exploring on our own

without a map to show the way

Climbing up mountaintops, the world is at our feet

you make me feel like I could fly



And I say...

Where did you come from, and where do we go from here

So many things I'd like to say

My world is different now, I can't get you out of my mind

Can you help me find my way



A dark but star filled night, the sound of the sea on the rocks

Bearing our souls we sit and talk

The moon has crossed overhead, the hours fade into grey

I don't want this night to end



And I say...
Where did you come from, and where do we go from here
So many things I'd like to say
My world is different now, I can't get you out of my mind

I wonder if you're here to stay



My mind fills up with the days I'll never forget

Endless moments in the sun

We lay side by side, the surf washes over our toes

Writing messages in the sand



And I say...
Where did you come from, and where do we go from here
So many things I'd like to say
My world is different now, I can't get you out of my mind

But what part will you play



Can you help me find my way

I wonder if you're here to stay

So many things I'd like to say...

My AmazingTrip to Mali IV: The Pictures

I have two more days in Mali. I have had two of the most amazing weeks of my life, doing things I never thought I would have the chance to do, learning about people, cultures, and places that I previously knew nothing about. It has been memorable to say the least. Below are some pictures that I've taken that kind of help to sum up the things I've seen, the people I've met, and the experience I've grown from (Joost and Joanna, I am now 5'11 and a half, thank you for asking). ;P









Joost and me walking to the river outside Bamako, Mali. Two studs if I do say so myself.















Joost hanging out while some Malian kids wash in the river. They were all about getting their picture taken. The kids. But mostly Joost.










Me. Hanging out in a river. Taking pictures of myself. Which meant I had ten seconds to press the 'take a picture button', run through the river over algae infested rocks, splash dirty water all over myself, and pose in this dashingly good fashion. Impossible for some. Not for me.







Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale... So some new friends and I went on a boat ride around the rivers of Bamako, Mali. It was wonderful. We had cheese and crackers. We had olives. We had wine in a box. We had a beautiful sunset. And we had Vina on bailing duty because 15 minutes into our tour the bottom of the boat started filling up with water. Luckily Vina is a first class bailer and our feet and food stayed dry.






This picture is in honor of Fred Fiedler. The first of the great pointers. I think we would make good hunting dogs. Anyway, while others were doing frivolous things like eating and bailing out water, I fearlessly pointed the course home.











Some fishermen took their skiff out into the river to drop traps for...fish? Not sure how well fishing with traps works but they must know something I don't here because lots of people were using these small traps. I really liked the gondola style propulsion methods that they use here. Kind of makes you feel a bit more European while avoiding donkey manure and watching people bath, wash their clothes, and use the bathroom in the river.






Desert. Desert. Desert. TIMBUKTU! A view of the mythical city from our twin prop plane. It really was like a specter that appeared out of nowhere. And the landing was by far the craziest that I've ever been a part of. The wind from the Sahara blew our plane everywhichway but where the pilots wanted us to go. Fortunately my bad luck on this trip didn't ebb over onto the landing of the plane.










This summer's hottest fashion craze? Camel skin tents. Cool. Breezy. Relatively portable if you have a live camel nearby to tote it. And blends in quite well with most desert conditions. I'm guessing L.L. Bean could make a fortune by personalizing these bad boys with some initials across the entrance. They were certainly the thing all the hip people had in Timbuktu.














Joanna and me hanging out in one of those amazing camel tents from above. You didn't figure the inside looked like this did you? Me neither. I think this was the upgraded version.











Camel. Check. Turban. Check. New cheesy sunglasses because they were the only ones I could find to replace the pair I broke the night before making an excursion into the desert. Check.
I'm ready to ride!












Ibrahim my fearless guide had an uncanny sense of direction. All I saw was a bunch of sand. Some in dunes. Other times flat. But he led us to our evening camp site with nary a problem. He's good people.














After a two hour long camel ride I sit and watch the giant orb of a sun sink quickly under the desert's dunes while contemplating life. The Sahara outside of Timbuktu is a good place to do that, I think everyone ought to give it a try.











I think I look cute.











Joanna almost knocked with the 'husbands only' door knocker. Luckily she avoided that faux pas and knocked on the 'everyone else may knock here' section of one of the beautiful doors of Timbuktu, Mali.















A weaver sits making his wares in the culture market in Timbuktu. He's still got a way to go though; the yarn from his loom stretching out at least ten meters from where he sits.










A mosque rises above the rooftops as we enter Mopti, Mali. We saw many such mosque's on our travels around Mali. Most were made from mud and sticks but still managed to stretch up to 30 meters into the sky.








Ummm... that looks a lot like an ancient city built out of mud and resting under a 500 foot high escarpment. In fact that is what it is. We have entered Dogon country, Mali.













The Dogon built their houses under the cliffs in the 1400's. During that time the cliff faces were hidden by rain forests and the foliage and hight provided protection from wild animals and invading tribes.

















I can tell already that this is going to be one of my favorite parts of the trip.














Our guide, Dra, tells the rest of the group the history of the Dogon while I go off to explore. This was probably my favorite part of the trip, the houses, rocks, and trees providing an excellent playground for a 27 year old boy.








Like these storage rooms which date back to the 800's, before the Dogon people populated this region. Joanna and I had a bit of a tight squeeze to get in, but it was well worth it to see the exasperated looks on all the adults faces.











The children of Dogon country. While we couldn't really communicate with words, holding hands, launching children playfully into the air, and playing football seem to get the message across to my new friends that they are pretty o.k. in my book.







In Dogon country there is stuff to climb EVERYWHERE!!! This tree happened to be in the middle of our trail and merited climbing status.













Me in the tree. Umm... that's it.















Tirelessly trekking through sweltering heat and wind blown sands the adventurers are led on by Dra, our incredible guide to Dogon country.














You can tell I've been working out because I'm holding up a bolder several tons bigger than me. Not everyone can do that. Just letting you know.













One of the many canyons we climbed through trekking through Dogon country. Remarkably beautiful, very tempting to climb everything around me, and a wonderful place to realize that God does good work.















That's a crocodile. And a chicken. Bet you can't guess who won. Our vegetarian companion didn't appreciate that we bought a crocodile it's lunch, but I think we were being generous having asked for nothing in return for a 2000 CFA meal.









The elders of a Dogon village traditionally wear blue with conical hats while the young initiated men of the village approach in their costumes and masks. They performed their traditional mask dance for us in what was a spectacular display of culture, agility, and history.












These two dancers have women masks. They represent the very rare women who are initiated within the tribe. Generally women and children are forbidden from observing the mask ceremony, although when tourists pay for it to be done the women and children may observe the dance but not the sacrifice that takes place beforehand.






The dancer for the sick. His bulging chin is representative of a common illness among the Dogon. He dances so that they may be healed.














The chief priest dancer. This mask represents the one who keeps the masks and costumes in order and thus is the head of all other dancers.


















The bird mask went through a series of bowing, stabbing, and hopping motions.














The dancers form columns along with the head chanter, wearing blue, to complete the ceremony of the masks.









Dancers performing on stilts represent the young women of the Dogon. Standing on stilts that were about five feet in hight the dancers proceeded around the circle waving tails in hand.















Several dancers wore masks that reached over 15 feet in hight. The masks represented the pathway to the heavens. During their section of the dance the men bent forward and back to touch the tips of their masks to the ground in front and behind them.









It's hard to see but these masks have an upward Y and a downward Y. The upper part signifies the heavens while the part facing down signifies the earth. The band that connects the two signifies that which connects the heavens and the earth.

My trip to Mali; Part III; A comedy of errors

"A comedy of errors is dramatic work (often a play) that is light and often humorous or satirical in tone, in which the action usually features a series of comic instances of mistaken identity, and which typically culminates in a happy resolution of the thematic conflict.

A slight variation of the "Comedy of Errors" discipline is Farcical theatre, which revolves around humour caused by the foolish mistakes of unintelligent characters and the chaos that derives from it."
(Wikipedia)

So here I am making another error. I am going to post this as a Comedy of errors post as an optimistic approach to the end of my journey here. Wikipedia has shown me that really this holiday/vacation would probably be a better fit for Farcical theatre. I have written a short song to memorialize this occasion in my life.

On the first day of vacation I really fouled things up...
I got ripped off by a stupid taxi man

On the second day of vacation I really fouled things up...
I lost four hundred dollars after getting ripped off by a taxi man

On the third day of vacation I really fouled things up...
I went on a trip with Polish speakers, lost four hundred dollars, after getting ripped off by a taxi man

On the fourth day of vacation I really fouled things up...
My glasses broke while packing, can't understand Polish, lost four hundred dollars, after getting ripped off by a taxi man

On the fifth day of vacation I really fouled things up...
I broke the lousy car door, no glasses in the desert, can't understand Polish, lost four hundred dollars, after getting ripped off by a taxi man

On the sixth day of vacation I really fouled things up...
I soon ran out of money, broke the lousy car door, can't see in the desert, still can't understand Polish, lost four hundred dollars, after getting ripped off by a taxi man

On the seventh day of vacation I really fouled things up...
I slept in a car park, ain't got no money, broke the lousy car door, sand in my eyes in the desert, why can't they speak English, lost four hundred dollars, after getting ripped off by a taxi man

On the eighth day of vacation I really fouled things up...
Walked in on my friend in a towel, slept in a car park, not one single cent, broke the lousy car door, may be permanently blind, what the heck are they saying, lost four hundred dollars, after getting ripped off by a taxi man

On the ninth day of vacation I really fouled things up...
Got my back stuck in the car door, my friend has turned bright red, slept in a car park, no money left for anything, broke the lousy car door, cannot see to type this, Polish sounds like English backwards, lost four hundred dollars, after getting ripped off by a taxi man

On the tenth day of vacation I really fouled things up...
Hit a guy while closing the car door, got my back stuck in the car door, barging in on my friend in a towel, slept in a car park, begging beggars for a handout, broke the lousy car door, sand still in my eyeballs, who speaks Polish anyways, lost four hundred dollars, after getting ripped off by a taxi man

On the eleventh day of vacation I really fouled things up...
Bruised my head on a street shop, guys got a mark on his head now, great big whelt on my back, my friends towel is pink, slept by a Toyota, sold my body for a mango, broke the lousy car door, who breaks their glasses before going to the desert, I've lost all love for Poland, where is my four hundred, after getting ripped off by a taxi man

On the twelfth day of vacation I really fouled things up...
I forgot I don't speak French, bruise now on my noggin, matches the guy who I hit with the door, goes nicely with the whelt on my back, wake up so I don't get run over, five hours from home with no money, broke the lousy car door, next time pack more glasses, the world should all speak English, four hundred left on the plane, after getting ripped off by the taxi man


Thank you...thank you very much.

Just to let you know that pretty much sums up a lot of my trip. However I could have written and equally cheesy and horrible song about the amazing things that I have seen this trip. I road a camel (which isn't a cute animal by the way) into the Sahara desert. I practiced yoga on a sand dune as the sun dipped below the horizon and the wind blew my now shaggy beard in a very calming and wa filled way. I was able to spend easter morning watching the same sun rise up over the sand dunes and took a moment to give thanks for the amazingness of that moment. I have an amazing friend who hardly knows me but lent me some money so that I wouldn't be stuck by myself floating down a river in a country where I don't know the language, directions, or much of anything else. I was able to play a game of football in a dried up bay with a bunch of kids and not break anything, while making a few decent plays and not getting shown up too badly. I went to Dogon country where the villages of the Dogon remain from 800 years ago and the villages of other "little people" remain from the 800's. I was able to crawl through houses that haven't been lived in for hundred's of years. I saw a masked ritual dance performed by the initiated men of a small village in the heart of Dogon and learned about how their history still permeates their current lifestyles. I walked along a river in Segou, which was absolutely beautiful with lush green gardens, lot's of people washing, and hand thrown pottery shops adjacent to the blue sparkling waters of the Niger.

And, though I didn't really talk much, due to my new friends love of the Polish language, or the guides knowledge of only the French language, I had a really good time. It was a very change my globe of comfort type of trip. I had to be very reliant on others, I couldn't be a leader, and that is a position I don't do often and got a bit frustrated with this week. But I've learned a bit, grown a bit, and when asked why I am happy so often was able to respond with, "Why not, I always try to be happy!" Why live life focussed on the Farcical theatre that could be overwhelming? I'd rather live a comedy of errors. Where I mess up all the time but hope that, through the hard times, everything will turn out alright in the end.