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Dear Praying Friends,
“It’s a dangerous business...going out of your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no telling where you might be swept off to.” A truer word was never spoken. Like most hobbits of Hobbiton, I was becoming very settled in the quiet life in my hobbit-hole, and giving little thought to adventures beyond the Shire. So it seemed against my better judgment that I had arranged to take a six-week expedition through Europe this summer. On some level I recognized that it was something I needed to do, and believed God had designs in mind; but moving forward felt like begrudging obedience rather than eager anticipation. But reluctance quickly gave way to joyful embrace once I finally opened the book and entered the first of three wildly different “chapters” of this story.
Train platform in Geneva, Switzerland |
CHAPTER ONE. On June 24, nine of us “pilgrims,” including our guide and her assistant, met in quaint little Beaune, France. We bonded quickly as a group, and together we steeped ourselves in the rich Christian heritage and history of Burgundy and Bavaria. It was called a “wine pilgrimage,” and while wine was an important theme, it was more than that—we soaked in the landscape, the agriculture, the architecture, the food, the art, the music of these regions. It was a feast for all the senses…and this was not incidental. It poked and provoked all sorts of things in me, for whom spirituality has mostly been lived in my head—the realm of thoughts and ideas, and not embodied, sensorial, and emotional experience. Many of our modern Christian traditions take a guarded view of the emotional and are cautious about indulging the senses. Like ancient Gnostics, we are tempted to separate reality into the “spiritual” and “material” and then look down our noses on the material. But God created our senses—and beautiful material things to sense—to draw us into knowledge and worship of Him, the exuberant Creator and Giver of good gifts. When the Bible speaks of encountering God in a sensory way, it’s not just being metaphorical. The material world—broken and fallen as it is—still vibrates with the Creator’s life and presence, and He wants us seek Him out with our eyes and listen to Him with our ears, to feel Him with our hands, to smell His aroma and taste His goodness. And He created us to do so in community with one another. So together, we pilgrims spent that first week exploring God’s goodness through our senses…the delights of wine and food, the feel of damp soil and woody vines on the fingers, the scent of blooming linden trees and ancient wine cellars, the stunning vistas of rivers and vineyards and wildflowers and the artful handiwork of Christ-followers of the past centuries, and the transcendent sounds of wind and water and strings on instruments, and through the powerful communion--a true koinonia--of sharing life and laughter and tears. It was a wonderful beginning “tutorial” for embodied spiritual life. I yearn for more. I’m still unpacking this.
We intrepid pilgrims, Clos du Vougeut estate, Burgundy |
Beaune, France |
Beaune Saturday market |
We ate like royalty... |
Vogelsburg, Germany
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The way of the cross |
CHAPTER TWO. A week later I went from “contemplative-retreat” mode to “fast-tempo-tourist” mode. I met up with my friend Amy in the Frankfurt airport, and then a couple hours later we met our friend Justin at the airport in Prague, Czech Republic. We spent the next two weeks together, dividing our time between four cities and three countries—Prague, Dresden and Berlin Germany, and Kraków, Poland. Each city had its charms and distinctive feel. Prague is just a beautiful, amazing city. We made good use of a city pass that gave us access to all sorts of things, including public transit and the famous Pražský Hrad (Prague Castle), the largest castle complex in the world. Dresden has been rebuilt to its pre-World War II grandeur, and while there we also visited nearby Saxon-Switzerland National Park with its stunning landscapes and sandstone rock formations. Berlin is a bustling metropolis full of amazing museums and rich history. We visited the Pergamon Museum with its ancient artifacts, including a reconstruction of the Babylonian Ishtar Gate (something that’s been on my bucket list for years). And when I had my fill of all the Nazi and Cold War historical exhibits, I escaped to the Berlin Zoo for a day—easily one of the most beautiful zoos I’ve seen. Kraków was probably the biggest surprise—an absolutely delightful old town with beautiful churches and amazing food (I still dream of those pierogis!) We took a tour of the nearby famous Wieliczka Salt Mine (Google it, you won’t believe the photos), as well as a very sobering visit to the Auschwitz-Birkenau Nazi death camp complex. (Dear God, let us not fail to learn from history.)
After the three of us parted ways in Kraków, I had a few days on my own before the West Side Church short-term mission team arrived in Prague. After considering some possibilities, I opted for a slower pace to give me some time to process all I’d experienced. I found an inexpensive guesthouse in a small village in southern Bohemia called Český Krumlov. It’s a tourist town, a beautiful medieval city—worth a day’s visit, I was told, but not much more. However, for better or worse, I booked four nights there. Then I worried that I would regret it; after all, what would I do there by myself for so long? Surely I would get restless! But no; it was exactly what I needed. I spent three days wandering the narrow cobblestone streets, crossing every bridge, visiting the gardens and parks, sitting in the church and taking in the aroma of frankincense, climbing up to the castle, saying hello to the bears in the moat, watching medieval blacksmiths at their craft, and trying the local Bohemian (and Italian and Vietnamese) cuisine. I read, I napped, I did laundry in the sink, I thought, I prayed, I enjoyed a glass of wine on my room’s patio, watched the sun set over the castle, listened to street musicians, ate gelato in the town square at night. And sometimes I remembered to climb out of my head, and dwell on the sensory experience of it all, and let it draw me into worship and gratitude. I never got bored. But when it was time to return to Prague, I was ready to go. I was well-rested, and anxious to start Chapter Three.
CHAPTER THREE. To be honest, I was anxious about this chapter. This was the part where we, the West Side Church short-term mission team, would be spending a week at the Christian “English Camp” in the mountains of northern Czech Republic, teaching English to teen-agers. These were two things that struck terror in my heart—teaching…and teen-agers. If you’re wondering why I chose to do this…well, as the time approached, so was I. I had little confidence in my ability to relate to this age group, let alone in the Czech culture where trust is hard-won and the relational “wall” is formidable. My first day of teaching didn’t go so well, which only reinforced my fears. But we prayed over it that night, and things improved! Amazing things happen at camp. In the middle of the week, the program included a pretty long and rigorous hike. One of the campers with whom I had gotten a little acquainted, accompanied me for much of it, and over the miles we forged a real bond…laughing, joking, nerding out on Lord of the Rings, but also having real conversations about real things (Czech teens have an uncanny maturity about them). That, and devouring handfuls of delicious wild blueberries until our mouths and fingers were stained blue—gifts from God to encourage us on our way. At one point he commented, “We’ve only known each other a few days but it’s like we’re good friends now.” I later learned that comments like this are not usually spoken lightly by Czechs. Given my fears that I wouldn’t make connections, friendships like these became deeply meaningful gifts to me.
God’s tutorial for embodied spirituality would continue at the meeting later that night. A number of kids were deeply and visibly moved by Christ’s invitation to center their lives around Him—and my “trail mate” was among them. I happened to be sitting behind him, awkwardly wondering whether I should keep to myself—to pray silently and not invade his space—or whether to come pray alongside him. I wasn’t sure which was more culturally appropriate in that context. Before I could make up my mind, another camper joined him, so I figured I could leave him in peace, and got up to leave; but before I could step away, the two of them opened their arms and wordlessly pulled me into a tight huddle of prayer. And so there we were, the three of us, gathered in Jesus’ name, seeking His face…and Jesus was there. But this time it wasn’t an idea or concept to believe. No; it was an intense, holy, koinonia moment…and an embodied, sensory, incarnational encounter. I don’t know how else to describe it. This is not in my usual repertoire of experiences…but I wish it were! It was life-giving. And breath-taking. It haunts me to this day. I ache for more of that.
So…I’m back now, a little disoriented, and trying to figure out what, exactly, happened to me in those six weeks! A lot of things got knocked loose inside of me, and new yearnings awakened. I had some amazingly beautiful experiences, and sensations, and encounters. I felt alive in a way I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. And I wrestled with fears and insecurities and other demons, both old and new (new to my awareness, anyway). And there are still some things I haven’t yet found language to describe. All I know is that something has shifted. Something is different. It feels like a “before-and-after” signpost moment in life, but I have no clue what this means for me going forward—only a sense—or a hope—that God is doing something. Whether this means an external change, or an internal one, or both, I don’t know. The theme of the English camp this year was “All Things New.” When I saw that theme banner that first day we arrived, I knew immediately that this was intended for me, too. Now begins the work of figuring out what that means.
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FOR YOUR PRAYERS…
Praise God with me for the exceedingly abundant gift of those six weeks in Europe. And what an extravagant gift it was! And thank you to those who “joined” me in following my travels and praying for me along the way. Many prayers were answered beyond what I could have ever imagined. It’s a gift I continue to unwrap and unpack with awe and gratitude.
Pray with me as I begin the work of discernment for what purposes God has in mind for the days and times ahead. This is not a new prayer, if you’ve followed my prayer letters long enough. I continue to struggle with restlessness and uncertainty regarding my vocation and calling. But I suspect that this is ground-tilling for purposes yet to be revealed. So for now, please pray that my restless heart may find its rest in Him, and that I may wait patiently and expectantly…with open eyes and ears (and hands and mouth and nose).
Blessings in Christ,
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