Rejecting the Cycle (Star Wars: The Last Jedi)

An amateur Star Wars watcher making no original conclusions about the movie yet simply thinking through her own observations with spoilers included. 

         I wouldn’t be the first to write on the issues of the world in Star Wars. The idea of the force, being a somewhat vague concept of energy and nature which can be wielded for power, good or bad, has pagan themes down to its core. It’s a worship of nature and a dependence one one’s self for morality. It is faith, but in a thing which has no security nor salvation. I have nothing against this world in fiction. I will encourage my children to read and watch the adventures of Luke Skywalker, Harry Potter, and Percy Jackson as they battle against odds and show themes of good over evil, friendship, sacrifice, and love which are rooted in the great story of Christ who came before them. But upon watching the latest Star Wars movie something else struck me about their world. Hopelessness. They are lost in a cycle which cannot be overcome because of the very design of their world. The force is the most worshipped and powerful idea. It is an energy derived from nature, yet it is neutral. We see two distinct sides in Star Wars, each using the force for their own purposes. We depend upon the goodness of one side to win out, but the force takes no sides. 

         There is a scene in “The Last Jedi” where Rey has the opportunity to join Kylo Ren. Two people on separate sides are stuck in a moral dilemma. Kylo Ren offers an idea: let’s get rid of this whole idea of Jedi and Sith and let’s start something new that doesn’t fall back into this pattern we’ve seen so many times. As audience members we revolt against this idea which sounds evil and goes against the very grain of their world, and applaud Rey for resisting. And yet, in retrospect, what he proposes is so fundamentally interesting. At the end of the movie, the good will win, but, inevitably, at some point, someone will become fond of the power and choose to overthrow good, becoming bad, and the fight starts all over again. And the great force has nothing to say in this matter. In fact, if it does have a stance, it probably approves of this cycle-like existence. As Rey trains from Luke, we see her grasp the idea of the force; she sees birth and death, happiness and despair, comfort and loss. The ups and downs of the world, this circle of life, it cannot be escaped. In fact, it is even praised. In a strange way, Kylo Ren offers a way out. Of course, whether that would have worked or not is hard to say. Considering the fickleness of humanity I highly doubt it, but the whole concept was striking. We convince ourselves that this cycle is fine. It’s just the way it is. But what is amazing is that in this action-packed, adventurous, long-lasting story there is no end and no real hope. The cycle will go on because that is the world they live in. In many ways, our world seems similar with death and life, grief and joy, and pain and healing all in an endless circuit. So, why not just accept it and get used to it? Something inside us seems to fight this complacency.

                   There is another action-packed, adventurous, long-lasting story that, unlike Star Wars, actually gives the hope of a final ending where good defeats evil forever. In that story, the “force” is not neutral, He is God and He is utterly good. There is no playing dice with Him; He has already defeated the evil. In His story, this cycle we find ourselves in where we see our loved ones die, feel the frailty of our bodies, endure the frustrations of our world,  bear with grief and fear, is not something we need to settle with, nor should we. We were not made for it. Only in the story of Christ do we actually see a defeat of the never-ending cycle where Good ultimately and forever defeats the evil in this world. The best part…this story is true. Enjoy the wonderful world of Star Wars, but be forever grateful that you do not live in it. 

A Few More Reasons to Study Abroad

Over two years ago, I packed my two polka-dot suitcases and headed to the airport for a 5 month study abroad journey in Northern England. As a local Billings girl who had never left the states and was still living with my family through college, this was the opportunity of a lifetime. I had been raised on BBC dramas and loved European history and had made studying abroad a life-dream as a little girl. As an English Literature student I was dying to know their perspective on some of the old literature I’d read and visit some of the great places referenced in my many books. Studying abroad was something that shaped me, and as I look around at other students, desiring to learn and grow and yet somehow stuck in one way or another, it seems to me we should be a little more proactive about encouraging our own students and children to seek out this kind of adventure for several reasons.

    1. Studying abroad is a perfect mix of independence and freedom while being limited in time, being organized by a school, and being given a place to live. I am not downplaying the courage it took for myself and for others to do something like this, however, the security of knowing I’d be picked up from the airport by someone connected to the school I’d be studying at and given a room to stay in was extremely comforting. Also, having the time limit of five months gave me something to hold on to on the hardest days.

   2.  Studying abroad is different than merely traveling. Learning similar things from a different viewpoint was very beneficial. Taking a Shakespeare class as a freshman in the states is quite different than taking one as a junior in England. Before you expect me to go on and on about how the latter was far superior, it truly wasn’t. I respected and enjoyed both of my teachers and they each brought new ideas and perspectives on the table. Being in America, there is a distance from some of the culture and history brought about in some of these subjects giving us a clear head for how to perceive certain issues. Being in England, there was an identity found in some of the historical happenings and cultural issues being discussed, showing me how important their history is and how it influences them even now.

  3.   I have friends from all over the world and that is something I hope to take advantage of someday. Making friends was one of the most difficult aspects for me. I forced myself to attend clubs and events in hopes to make that bosom friend from England I’d been dreaming about. I waited five months for this to happen and suddenly realized that my closest friends were the other international students that I had bonded with. While I didn’t meet the friend I had imagined in my head, I enjoyed getting to know people as we went to lunch or to the pub or out to tea. I now have friends in England, France, Finland, Argentina, and places in the states I’ve never been. While we don’t all communicate constantly, I now know that if I ever am able to travel again (which I truly hope to do) than I have someone I can call. And traveling with a friend is so much more edifying than traveling alone.

 4  It wasn’t the perfect dream I’d imagined in my head. While this doesn’t seem like the best reason to encourage young adults to study abroad, I think this is deeply important. Now, of course, this isn’t everyone’s experience, for some it is the idyllic adventure they always imagined it to be. However, very early on in my travels, I realized that while I was in a town surrounded by ancient, Roman walls with cobblestone streets and a gorgeous cathedral that rang every hour, I still had to lug groceries back to my room, go to class at 9:00 on Monday morning, and do laundry. I planned trips to castles and Spain and London, but I also walked miles soaked to the bone in rain, got lost in Barcelona, and slept in some questionable hostels. However, it was those moments that stretched me as a person. I learned how to deal with difficult, frightening moments because I knew the next moment I would be viewing something thousands of years old with tremendous importance. I dealt with the blisters because I knew that looking at the rolling green hills and pastures was a view I’d never forget. I learned that life is still very much life, even in other countries that we may have romanticized. I learned that the people are still just people with different stories and preferences and personalities. Going abroad wasn’t as picturesque as I thought it’d be, but because of that I learned much more about the world and was tested in my perseverance. However, this has not dampened my desire to travel again. In fact, it now only gives me confidence that I have done so and can do so again even if it means traveling in large airports, going on overnight bus rides, and trying to read maps.

 5.   Before I left Billings, I had a very detailed idea of how my life was to be. Coming home was very different than my expectations. Some things change while others fall apart. Before I left Billings, I never imagined going far or doing anything too risky. While I still have much to learn and am not quite sure where life will take me, studying abroad has made me a little more flexible. I hope now that there are a few more adventures left in store for me, and I’m doing my best to find them. I also hope, however, that as the first one did, the others will bring me back home in the end.

Learning and growing doesn’t happen in a stagnant environment. When my parents took me to the airport to say goodbye, my mom looked me in the eyes and quoted one of our most beloved stories, “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think” (“Winnie the Pooh,” A. A. Milne). Education is about so much more than the grade report and amount of money you make after graduation day. The support and encouragement I had to take this step changed my life in subtle yet significant ways. Exploring the world, taking in new things, and meeting new people is one of the best opportunities our educations gives us to mature and challenge ourselves. Just one more reason to encourage others to study abroad.

Murder on The Orient Express: Mystery and Justice

The content of Kenneth Branagh’s latest production is drastically different from the other comedies and dramas currently in the theatre. Choosing to take on an old Agatha Christie mystery feels like a bold choice considering modern taste. However, his version of “Murder on the Orient Express” was undoubtedly well-done. The all-star cast proved their career with captivating acting, and the filming showed the beautiful scenery of the Orient’s route from Istanbul to Paris, perhaps itching those with some wanderlust in the audience. The portrayal of Christie’s colorful characters come to life in gorgeous costume and Branagh himself was humorous and precise in his role of the famous detective Hercule Poirot, not in the least offensive to those accustomed to David Suchet’s previous portrayal of the character. The plot is one classically simple and effective. Twelve passengers stuck upon a train with a murder to solve. The outline of a confined space and a mystery to solve has captivated audiences for centuries and Christie’s unique story-line is no less thrilling and mind-boggling. Through the wonderful storytelling, this plot has one theme that is wrestled with throughout. In tales of detectives and law enforcement the issue of justice is always at hand. While seemingly straightforward, our characters show that mixed with human empathy, finding and executing justice can be much more complicated. Sometimes, solving the mystery is not as difficult as the choices one must make afterwards. Take your friends and loved ones to watch “Murder on the Orient Express” and then ask yourself, do you agree with the greatest detective in the world, Hercule Poirot? 

Fire and Rain

 In light of the natural disasters occurring over the summer of 2017: 

All I see right now on my facebook feed or in the paper is the havoc that natural disaster is having on our country. Half of it is drowning while half is burning. The devastation in Texas is heartbreaking as is the destruction happening in my own state of Montana. In each area, there are stories of injuries, wreckage, loss, and, ultimately, a sense of hopelessness. As Christians, we often have to face the world with that ever looming question of, “if God is in control, then why is there so much hurt, so much pain, and so much suffering?” Why does he allow Texas to be swept away by rain and Montana to suffocate under fire and smoke?

No answer here. However, as I look around, I’m noticing something. We human beings are pretty proud creatures. We were told to “subdue” the earth; however, somewhere in that transition we got the idea that we had ultimate control. Like a child who is handed an ounce of responsibility, we suddenly thought that we were big enough take over the whole job. Well, it’s in times like these we realize how wrong we were. Thank the Lord for the advances in technology which have given us more knowledge about the world, allowing us to better protect ourselves and it. That said, when disaster happens, we are shamefully put in our place. We suddenly realize that we are just beings after all, not little gods roaming the earth. When fire and flood subdues the earth, while we can and should do something about it, in the end, we are left to pray for something mightier than ourselves to intervene.

Perhaps that is why God sends fire and rain. It wouldn’t be the first time. So, I don’t know why there is so much hurt, but it seems to me that we can recognize one thing in the midst of it all; we are not ultimately in control and thank God for that. Nature is God’s way of reminding us who is Sovereign, and it is not us.  

So pray for Texas, pray for Montana, but pray with the knowledge that God owes us nothing. Instead, this beautiful place we have to take care of is due to his grace, love, and mercy. As is everything else that is good. 

When I Read Psalm 55

PSALM 55

"For it is not an enemy who taunts me--
then I could bear it;
it is not an adversary who deals insolently
with me--
then I could hide from him.
But it is you, a man, my equal,
my companion, my familiar friend.
We used to take sweet counsel together;
within God's house we walked in the throng."

I don't know much about my Psalm history, but I do know many were written by David as he was on the run from a man he used to consider as dear to him. I was surprised to resonate with the words of David despite the fact I'm nowhere near physically running for my life. David's words hold power and emotion, but in this passage it is not fear or pain which one notices but the heartache, the betrayal, the broken trust. David has lost a friend and a refuge. We tend to trust people around us and place them on pedestals only to find they are human, sinful, and likely to fall down. Balancing love and trust in this world is so hard. Too little and we reject one of God’s greatest gifts to us in family, fellowship, and relationship. Too much and we reject his greatest gift, ultimate trust in him because of the mercy and love he has already bestowed upon us. The best people are no replacement for the hold God should have on our heart. David's heartache is painful and heavy, but this is no blues ballad. David writes a song of hope. 

"Cast your burden on the Lord,
and he will sustain you;
he will never permit
the righteous to be moved."

I am grateful for David's honest words which everyone has felt to some degree. I hope through every disappointment, betrayal, and heartache I learn to forgive and to continue to offer others my love and trust despite the risk. Through all that, however, I am grateful that in every inevitable let down, every time I feel rejected or every time I fail others, I can sing as David did and cry out: 

"I will trust in you." 

One Year Ago

                I can’t believe that this time last year I was flying over the sea to begin my semester abroad. I remember the fear and anxiety I had. I remember waking up early to go to the airport and looking at my suitcase by my bed. The one that ended up having a lot of things I didn’t need, and lacking a good amount of things that would have come in handy. Staring at it, all I could think was, “What have I done?” I remember saying goodbye and crying for the entire two hours of my first flight, leaving the poor man next to me looking rather uncomfortable. I remember my mother choking out the bit of A. A. Milne’s quote, “you’re braver than you believe” before being unable to finish the rest. I know it’s dramatic, but for a girl who likes to play things safe, this just seemed like a really bad idea. I had been stretched and grown through the circumstances that God had placed in my life already, but it is a very different thing to willingly choose something that you know will cause you to grow and change. That decision started the adventure that was five months of living abroad in the beautiful city of Chester. You saw the pictures, or you may have read my recorded thoughts as my journey took place. There were no lightning bolts of maturity or deep spiritual struggles, but I learned how to take care of myself a little more, I learned what matters to me, I’ve learned to ask for help, I’ve seen things I’d only seen in pictures and on movie screens, and I have friends scattered all over the world now. I’ve learned to put up with a lot of hard mattresses, bizarre bus rides, sore feet, and I’m not afraid of airports anymore (still not a fan of the bus thing though). I’ve better learned how to turn to God when I feel alone and scared, because people, even those who love me most, aren’t enough. I’ve now come to find myself looking back on last year more afraid and anxious than ever. It’s a fear of a different kind. It contains my unknown future, it plays off of my insecurities, and it is inconsiderate of my fragile heart. It just goes to show that every day and every year there are new struggles and new fears to overcome. Each one feels overwhelming and terrifying at the time, but even so, his mercies “are new every morning” (Lamentations 3:22-23). Looking back to one year ago, I am thankful for the opportunity I had, for the courage God granted me to take that step, for the experiences, the friends, the lessons learned, and the continual guidance He will have on my life. I called it my adventure, and it was, but it was only a part of it. It jump-started what feels like a new stage to my life, one that has been difficult and frightening, yet which has caused me to grow and trust in Him on a level I hadn’t thought I needed before. To any of you considering travel, even just a bit, take your chances and go. You never know what you will learn or see or who you will meet, but it will open your mind and heart to so many things. It is a risk, it is a change, it is enthralling, it is painfully mundane, it is expensive, and it will have consequences, but more than likely, it will be worth it. 

Returning Home

I never thought I’d be writing about my journey home, but here I am. I suppose I’ve become rather accustomed to writing out my thoughts in an effort to make sense of them. Coming home is such an out of body experience. The feeling of stepping off of that plane and walking down the stairs of the Billings airport was like floating on air. It is the strangest thing to run into the arms of those you love most and whom you haven’t seen for so long. It’s like a puzzle that all just fits and no time has passed at all. Yet, at the same time, there’s a gap created by time and distance which you must learn to cross. I am very glad to be home. I love being at work again and I love being with my friends and my family; however, the transition is one that takes getting used to. Everyone warns you of this but honestly, I wasn’t all that nervous about it; I was prepared for change when I came home. I knew my school, my work, and my new house were all going to have an effect, but I didn’t care, I just wanted to be home. Yet, I find myself slipping into that longing of how things were before I left. I am envious of the familiarity and the surety I had. Which is funny considering how scared I was when I left. I’d never been afraid of anything so much, yet here I am, in the very place I feel safest, feeling so much more frightened. It’s funny how God likes to change your plans and expectations. When I say funny I mean frustrating, difficult, stressful, and disappointing. I had wonderful imaginings for my summer back and how it was to look and for my final year at school this fall. What I forgot was all the little adult things that invade into your fantasies and make everything so unpleasantly real. I’d love to go back and escape into the world of beautiful cathedrals, green landscape, ruined castles, and rich history… only I know that I would feel just as frightened there as I would here. Fear isn’t something you can run from, but it is something you can fight. Here’s the thing, life on this earth never goes according to plan. I should rephrase that: life on this earth never goes according to our plan. This world is full of the beautiful things of God and yet it is tainted with the horrible reality of our sin. I was unprepared for how oppressive the fear of the future can be. I wonder about where I will be in five years; will I be teaching the literature I love so well? Will I have found someone to lead me and love me? Will I have started a family and be learning how to raise children of my own? I hope so, but vain hope isn’t enough, I need something stronger. When I left, I asked God to use my experiences and lessons learned in the UK to influence and prepare me for my new adventure at home. That looks differently now than how I expected it to look. I am learning and growing in Christ probably more than if things were going as I had so “perfectly planned”. I am learning that fear of the future is merely showing a weak faith. I am learning what it means to be content and satisfied in Christ alone. I am learning to trust what he has, even though it may not be what I thought I wanted. I am learning that I am not here to be merely happy and I am not here to serve myself; I am here to “glorify God and enjoy him forever”. And the greatest joy I can find is in doing this very thing. I’m not good at it yet, but I have the greatest helper I can get through the Holy Spirit. Plus there is one great advantage to being home; I am surrounded by people and a community that makes it bearable. People who have loved me and encouraged me through my foolish decisions, my worst days, and my weakest moments. The devil likes to make you think you are most alone when the very opposite is true. God give me strength to face the future...if there is success, happiness, and love so be it; if there is failure, pain, and loneliness so be it. Either way I have the love of someone far greater than I; someone who has loved me more than anyone else can or will, and not because of anything I have done. I have the Spirit of the Living God dwelling inside me and; therefore, no matter what else there is in my life, there will be peace, joy, and purpose.

“Go on to think of the love of the Son in its breadth, its length, its depth, its height; go on to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge. Think of Him who came from Courts of Heaven and laid aside the insignia of His eternal glory and was born as a babe, worked as a carpenter, and endured the contradiction of sinners against Himself. Think of Him into whose holy face men spat and on whose brow they pressed a crown of thorns and into whose hands and feet the nails were hammered. There He is on the Cross. What is He doing there? There He dies for us, that you and I might be forgiven and reconciled to God. Think of his love, and as you come to know something about it, you will forget yourself.” –Martyn Lloyd Jones

Father I know that all my life is portioned out for me.

The changes that are sure to come I do not fear to see.

I ask Thee for a single mind intent on pleasing Thee;

I ask Thee for a single mind intent on pleasing Thee.

Anna L. Waring 

Five Months

There’s something about being far from home for a long period of time which stretches the emotions. Some days it hurts. It’s a kind of aching that tugs at you whenever you think of places you miss going and the people you love. Other days you’re fairly indifferent. Not that you stop missing home, just that it doesn’t occur to you as much to do so. The strangest thing is how quickly you can jump from one emotion to the next. You’ll be flying high experiencing something truly incredible, but all it takes is the thought of one person back home with whom you’d long to share that moment with and suddenly it has become somewhat bittersweet. Now that I’m getting closer and closer to my departure date (three days to be exact), I’m starting to worry about missing the UK. I know that I will. I’ll miss Chester itself with the beautiful walls and the River Dee, taking a train on the weekend to somewhere I’ve always dreamed of going, the history, architecture, the people I’ve met, and the friendships I’ve created. I find it amazing that we, as a human race, are so quick to miss what we don’t have and waste what’s in front of us.

I think people discover different things on their journeys abroad. For some, they rarely miss home, the itch to travel is never-ending, and they fall head over heels for some other place in the world. These people may not be meant to go home, or at least, to stay there. They were born for adventure and to start a life in a new place, be it near or far from where they were raised. They thrive in a place very different to that which they grew up in. For others, it may be more of a “Wizard of Oz” experience. No matter how far they go, no matter what they experience or see, there truly is “no place like home”. Anyone who knows me will know that I’ve always identified with the latter. I was surprised, though, by how often people would tell me I would fall in love with England, maybe one of their men, and never come back. Perhaps they were mostly joking, yet that happens to people, doesn’t it? And some truly seemed to think I was destined for this outcome. I do love England. I love my adventure and I love being here, and the thought of returning home is mixed with feelings of anxiety and sadness as much as those of excitement. There’s so much yet to do and see, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get to come back, although I desperately hope I do. I came on this journey and I’ve learned, seen, experienced, explored, and discovered a great many things, but now it is time for me to take those things back home and use them on a new adventure. It’s time now to go home. I belong in a city not too small and not too big, I belong where the people have watched me grow and learn since I was a small child, I belong in a community that knows me more than I know myself. I don’t know where the future will take me, and it may be very far away from Billings, Montana, but, at least for now, that is where I belong.

I am so thankful to the friends I’ve made, for the places I’ve gone, and for the memories I have. My time abroad has ended and there is so much more in store for me, but I will never forget these past five months. Now I pray that as I return home I will cherish every moment. I will use whatever it is that I’ve gained on my journey to glorify the one who made it possible, and I pray that someday, He will allow me to come back. For now, it’s time to make the most of my last three days, tying off the ends of my amazing adventure, before I start a new one back home.

Four Months

While being 4,317 miles away from home for the past four months, there have been several phrases that I have found myself repeating and reflecting on…

1.     YOLO:

Although I don’t usually recommend this as a code to live by, I have caught myself saying this, and meaning it, more times than I would like to admit. But, to a degree, it’s the truth. You have to make difficult decisions here, and the only way to justify them is by realizing that this studying abroad experience is a once in a lifetime opportunity to be taken advantage of. I am in this incredible place very far from home and who knows if I’ll ever have the opportunity to come back. With only one life, on this earth anyway, now is my chance. You don’t just drop down a week’s worth of stipend to watch a play, or stand for an hour and a half in the cold to see fireworks, or spend hours in a bus station at one o'clock in the morning because you can do those things every day. You do it because watching that show on that stage has been your dream since you were a child, you stand in the cold for ten minutes of fireworks because you are experiencing an iconic moment with 10,000 other people, you sit miserable in that bus station because you have decided that those few dreary hours is completely worth the moments of joy, discovery, and excitement that has come as a result. Of course, wisdom and decision-making is imperative. Sometimes you have to say no to the place that you have always wanted to go to or an event you wish you could experience, but sometimes you have to quiet that over-analyzing, paranoid part of you, and simply do it…because you only live once.

2.     Time Flies:

As of today I have one month and three days before I return home. It’s unbelievable how quickly it’s approaching. The thought of going home is very bittersweet. I miss home so much and I know I’ll be overwhelmingly glad to be back, yet it’s been such a wonderful time here, and there’s still so much I want to see and do. I can only pray that God will give me the opportunity to come back. Chester has truly become a second home; I hate to say good-bye.

3.     Trust in God:

I know this is very general and certainly does not just apply to these five months here, but it’s a very good thing to remind myself of. I don’t say this to puff myself up: “Oh, look how well I trust God now that I've been pushed outside of my comfort zone.” I only wish that was the case. I still have much to learn and always will; going away has, by no means, changed that. Nevertheless, this is the most important phrase to live by here and elsewhere. If only it was some sort of Sabrina transformation where all of the sudden I was spectacularly spiritually mature, wise, and faithful (the new wardrobe and makeover would be very welcome too), but I have seen God work in me here, and I hope it will be an evidence to his grace when I return. So in Europe and everywhere, trust God.

Four months of my adventure are memories now, but I still have one month and three days to live and experience, and I intend to do just that. 

Three Months

All of my US friends are quite jealous of the three week Easter/spring break I just came back from, but I’m now having to figure out how to get back into the groove of doing school after not having looked at a book or an essay for a couple of weeks straight. That said, the time off gave me the chance to do some exploring.  

I had the opportunity to go to Ireland and stay with some friends over Easter. They were very generous to me and I felt incredibly blessed to be, once again, in a comfortable bed being fed, taken care of, and downright spoiled. My dad will tell you I returned to the Skiles roots, although I think the details of the three Irish brothers, by the name of Skiles, who came over to America, are somewhat in question. It’s so incredible to be able to say I’ve stood at the birthplace of the Titanic and driven by the home of C. S. Lewis. The countryside is just as one imagines in the pictures with the rolling green hills, the pastures of grazing sheep, and the occasional 16^th century ruin just off to the side. I was far too excited to see baby lambs and a badger. My hosts found this odd seeing as I come from a place with bears, wolves, and moose, but I kept saying it was like Mr. Badger from The Wind in the Willows (anyone who is under the impression I’ve grown up is incredibly mistaken). I saw the Atlantic Ocean for the first time. The sea in Ireland is more green and grey than what I’ve seen before; it’s absolutely stunning.

I also was given the opportunity to visit Spain over break; something completely unexpected and not a part of the original plan, but far too amazing to pass up. I spent a day in Santiago de Compostela and a day in A Coruña staying with my roommate’s family, and experiencing Spanish hospitality and generosity at its finest, although the most I could do in return was smile and say “gracias” since my Spanish is restricted to that of what one sees in toddler word books.  The countryside was gorgeous; everything was green and full of life. The people were also lively and colorful, and I haven’t quite decided if they ever sleep. One night we decided to go out on the town a bit after dinner which, seeing as they eat around 10pm, had us starting at around midnight (which made getting up at 6am for our flight the next day pretty exciting). We experienced the late night Spanish bar with people playing on Spanish bagpipes, tambourines, and seashells, as well as a number of other bizarre instruments. We went to an after Easter street fair where the stands had many treats to offer including cotton candy, doughnuts, and their speciality, Octopus. I went on a ride that I was really enjoying until it held me upside down for a solid three seconds, and we watched a band play some Spanish pop music for a very exuberant crowd. All in all, exploring the culture first hand, being in the homes and smaller towns, visiting the markets and street fairs, gave me a taste of Spain that I wouldn't have had the opportunity to experience otherwise, and it was a true delight.

But, of course, as all travellers in Spain must do, my group ended up in Barcelona for a few days. My favorite thing about Barcelona is that, in a way, there’s not actually much to see. What I mean by this is that, in so much of my travelling around the UK, I could barely catch my breath as I jumped from famous museum to monument. In Barcelona we merely ate and walked all day long, taking our time doing so. We saw some of the main city sights as well as explored the small, picturesque alleyways, and enjoyed more churros and chocolate than one probably should in a single week.

Of course, nothing was perfect about either of these trips. The castle in Ireland was too full and we couldn't go in, and I was separated from my group and became horribly lost in Spain, but I’m starting to come to the conclusion that at least one thing has to go wrong per place you travel. Those are the things which actually get remembered and shared around the dinner table for a good laugh later on.

I can’t believe I only have a couple more months left here. It’s rather a stressful thought considering the essays I have left to write, and the places I have yet to visit. It’s hard to think I may never be able to come back here, but that only makes me want to enjoy the time I have here more thoroughly. With only a couple months left on my grand adventure, I'm determined to appreciate it as best I can. 

Two Months

       Time is strange. How can it be that I feel like I've been in England forever, yet have only just arrived, at the same time? Well, either way, the calendar says it's been two months so I suppose that is the most reliable source. I've been referring to my little room in John Milton Hall as home for quite a while now, and it's an interesting concept. I still feel a stranger here in my ways. I don't think that feeling will ever quite be gone, I'm not here long enough, but Chester has become familiar, and I am happy here.

       My travels have taken me a little farther. Bath was like walking into a novel with elegant buildings and the ancient Roman Baths offering plenty of entertainment and knowledge.  I also visited London just this past weekend. The magic of it falters slightly when you must learn how to work the tube, and even after you've done that you end up walking over ten miles in one day. But it's worth it to walk around through the squares and markets and gardens. I still have a lot to see when I go back to London later in the spring, but I wonder if anything can beat the pleasure of simply walking around in the beautiful parks which act like a haven in the middle of the bustling city.

       However, I must add one exception to this. There was one pleasure which outdid all the rest on my London visit and that was the opportunity I had to see Les Miserables at the Queen's Theatre. When I was young, I remember putting on shabby rags, rubbing dirt on my face, and holding an old straw broom while singing "Castle On A Cloud" for my church's Variety Show. But I had no idea what the story which my song came from was about. I vaguely remember going to my grandmother's house and watching pieces of one of the Les Mis Anniversary performances over her shoulder. I inquired about the story, and for Christmas that year Mom bought me the Liam Neeson and Geoffrey Rush film. Although leaving much of the story out, this well acted drama left me in tears on my couch (which isn't really much of a feat in general as I cry pretty easily). I've been hooked on this story ever since, devouring all forms of the musical I could get my hands on and being a part of the play itself when Billings Studio Theatre performed it in 2013. To see it on the London stage was just something I knew I'd always do. It was my dream...and it came true. To witness the story on the splendor of a grand stage with the voices of many talented actors was out of this world. I sat there with three disintegrated tissues in my lap, hands pressed hard over my mouth so that my sobs would stay inaudible, and basically just wept between the poor strangers sitting next to me. But I can't help it. This story of God's forgiveness and His redemption should move throughout people (although you don't necessarily have to weep to the embarrassing extent I did). And I believe it has been an influence. I think that these are the themes which have kept this show going for 30 years now, whether people recognize that or not.  As Javier and Valjean both "reach" and "fall," one focuses tirelessly on the strict mechanics of the law, and finds it to be not enough...the "stars" go "black." The other finds himself equally unworthy, equally as incapable, and yet, when he reaches out, he is caught by someone far greater than himself. See what I mean? This story is beyond incredible; a beautiful and heart-wrenching illustration of Christ's work. And I'll never forget the night I was able to see it on stage in London.

        Life is so much bigger than us. It's bigger than my May assessments, it's bigger than the question of what my next year will look like, it's bigger, even, than this great England adventure. I am looking "Somewhere beyond the barricade."

Do you hear the people sing
Lost in the valley of the night?
It is the music of a people
Who are climbing to the light.

For the wretched of the earth
There is a flame that never dies,
Even the darkest night will end
And the sun will rise.

They will live again in freedom
in the garden of the Lord.
They will walk behind the plough-share,
They will put away the sword.
The chain will be broken
And all men will have their reward.

Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Somewhere beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?
Do you hear the people sing?
Say, do you hear the distant drums?
It is the future that they bring
When tomorrow comes!

One Month

One month ago, I landed in Chester, England, to study for one semester abroad. I now had to learn how to live on my own, adjust to a new school and community, as well as a different culture in a different country. That learning is still in progress, but I’ve come to understand and experience things here, and it’s only the beginning of what I’ll discover on my Europe adventure.

I’ve gotten to see a little bit, but I still have yet to do most of the traveling I hope to do over my time here. The town of Chester itself is incredibly beautiful. A well persevered town, picturesque for the American traveler, complete with cobblestones and cathedrals. I’ve seen old castles, industrial museums, and gorgeous libraries.

I get asked a lot, very enthusiastically, “Is it so exciting? What are you doing? Is it really different?” People seem disappointed by my fairly complacent answers. It’s not that it isn’t incredible, it is. The first days walking around the town I would notice myself grinning like a fool. Walking on walls that are thousands of years old is so unimaginable and unlike anything you can experience in America. And it is different. Not horribly, but just enough to confuse you and make you look like the typical ignorant foreigner fairly regularly. Like when they ask you if “you alright?” and you have a moment of self-examination wondering if you have something on your face, or you simply look depressed or exhausted, only to realize that this is their version of the general, “how are you?” and simply stuttering over an awkward, delayed, “um..yeah, I’m, I’m fine. Um…you alright?”  Or like when walking down the sidewalk you assume you should veer to the left, this being the side of the road they drive on and all, but in actuality it’s more of a chaotic fumbling around and game of survival of the fittest when passing a large group of people on an extremely small sidewalk. Still, in terms of daily life, it's the same as anywhere else. They go to school, they go to work (often by public transportation though and figuring that out is enough to give me a panic attack still) then they go to the pub...always.  But life can feel monotonous here as anywhere, despite the ancient buildings and charming accents we Americans find so new and exciting.

Living like an adult is all very mindboggling and makes me absolutely appreciate still living with my parents. I definitely miss coming home to my mom’s cooking, and my bed which is more cushion-like versus the more rock-like mattress in my dorm room. Budgeting, laundry, and grocery shopping are not my new favorite activities, especially when dealing with how best to avoid exchange fees, and walking home with three recyclable tote bags of groceries (my calves and arms better be sculpted by the end of this trip). My mom often gets ridiculous texts about cooking certain dishes or washing certain items.

School here can be frustratingly different. I long to be doing something, but homework, in our sense of the word, is pretty much nonexistent, and instead I look forward to writing seven essays all due in May.  I also think they expect me to be in the library reading the never-ending "suggested" reading list at the end of our handbooks. So, one must learn to read and research and, in my case, begin writing essays after only attending a few lectures.

There is a lot of free time, though, and boredom leads to homesickness I find. I tend to miss the smallest things; seeing mountains in the distance, being able to jump in my car when I want to go somewhere, a long hug from a friend, watching shows with my mom (usually BBC), and hearing my dad thump around downstairs in the mornings…I almost miss my little sister leaving her bits of crafts and creations all over the house. I miss iced coffee, a really good burger, and a fully stocked kitchen. I’ve noticed recently I miss walking into a place and not feeling like the stranger or the foreigner. I long to feel familiar. Perhaps, in time, Chester will become that to an extent.

So I do miss home, and learning how to live on my own can be disheartening, figuring out the academic differences frustrating, and trip planning stressful. I have become quite dependent on prayer here. Not necessarily better at it, but in some way, God has ripped me from all that I know so that I must learn to look to him instead of other comforts. I fret about a good many things (I always have), but I no longer have my friends and family to run to in the same way. My backup is gone, and for that I am quite thankful. When I’m confused with classes, or become overwhelmed with my new surroundings, when I only have £40 of my meal stipend left for two weeks, or I’m struggling with not being able to communicate with loved ones as often as I’d like, when I am out of my depths and feeling quite alone, that’s when I realize I’m here to, more than anything, grow in relationship with my Father. To, by his grace, depend upon him.

Not for one second have I regretted my decision to come here. It’s so hard to believe sometimes that I am actually here in England. This is what I’ve dreamed about since before I can remember. Before I left I always got asked what gave me the idea to come here. I felt rather awkward trying to answer. I never had some sort of epiphany that guided me to take a semester abroad. I thought it was something everyone wanted to do; to experience another culture, to see incredible places and learn their history. Wasn’t that on everyone’s bucket list? These are things I’m doing right now, and it’s an awesome experience. I pray that I will learn and change, that I will see places rich in history and beauty, and learn more about researching and literature from a different perspective. I pray that through this experience I will become wiser, more cultured, more confident, and more understanding of how to live on my own in practical ways. But more than anything that I would become completely and utterly dependent on my Heavenly Father who gave me this opportunity. That I would learn how to surrender all of my fears and all of my joys. That I would become a person of prayer more than I’ve ever been before.
One month down. Five to go...

Love With Your Mind

Last semester I was looking for one more class to fulfill my minimum credits. As I wandered through the list of possibilities, I spotted Major Religious Figures focusing on authors C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. Well, naturally the nerd in me was pretty thrilled. Lewis was a favorite and I admired Tolkien as well. A whole class devoted to reading and analyzing their works? That was right up my alley. When I saw it was an upper level philosophy class; however, my heart dropped a little bit. I had a horrible fear I was going to be the only 18 year old female in the midst of 50 year old men with long bears who probably really enjoyed playing chess in their free time (Nothing against the game, I’m just incapable of it). I remember asking my mom whether or not she thought I should take the class. I mean, would it be above my head? “Emily,” She said, “You hear a philosophy lecture every Sunday morning.” Needless to say, I registered for the class.

My mom was right, as usual. The senior pastor at my church is not one to dumb down to his audience. By this I don’t mean he uses impossible to pronounce words and application only fit for 16^th century church reformers. Just the opposite. He somehow explains theology and the difficult to grasp verses helping us to make sense of things, while always bringing it back to the truth of the gospel and our salvation in Christ alone. However, he has a personal theme that he has encouraged our church with that is taken directly from Romans, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--his good, pleasing and perfect will” (12:2). That idea of renewing our minds, staying aware of our culture, and intellectually involved with God’s word are his encouragements for living a daily Christian life.

As a young woman in college it becomes more and more evident to me that my faith is not stagnant but growing and needs nourishment. This happens through the heart when faced with things I want that I can’t have, through the soul as I learn to trust and feel God’s presence, and even physically as I often have to force myself to have quiet time praying and reading God’s word. However, the verse that I am not so subtly eluding to included one more facet, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30). I think the popular church culture of our day is often missing the “mind” component of worship (and yes, I do believe it is worship). I find myself often running in to two different kinds of Christians my age. First, the opinionated but uneducated ones. These Christians are the ones who are passionate about church and their faith, but have never been exposed much to theology or different thinking. When issues arise they are the first to stand their ground, but unfortunately their ground shakes fairly violently as they haven’t thought much about why they believe what they believe and begin trying to argue with a PhD professor. These encounters tend to be awkward and embarrassing. You want to encourage their bravery, but because of their lack of knowledge and skill their arguments easily turn against them and do little to help the situation. Their defensiveness can also have a tendency to become very close-minded. Instead of listening and deciding to think critically about what they hear from their professors or classmates they automatically assume there can be no truth to their statements at all. The second kind of Christian is the easily swayed. These Christians have some background with the faith and have claimed it, but after hearing the educated, logical, and persuasive views of professors and experts things begin to cloud over (listening to the weak arguments of the first Christian doesn’t really help the situation either). Without strong roots or other people to go to with their thoughts and questions, their commitment to the church and God begins to fade.

At this point I want to make it clear that I myself don’t claim to be better than either of these Christian stereotypes I’ve pointed out. I find myself often a coward and could use the bravery and forwardness of the first type. Similarly I’m just as confused and doubtful as the second. However, this is where I am blessed. It was after listening to certain lectures or engaging in certain ideas at school or with friends that I ran where I was taught to go; to my church and my family. I sat down with other people (some who also have PhDs I might add, although as one of them told me once “intellectualism is overrated”) to discuss what I heard. I went through my notes pointing out everything with question marks, sarcastic comments, or frowny faces next to them. I asked my questions and raised my doubts. I’ll be the first to tell you I did not always get all the answers either. I’m still stuck on certain issues sometimes, and I still have a great deal to learn. But I’ve come to terms with that, for now anyway. I think that’s how God intended it. It’s through my delving, researching, and questioning that I’ve come so much closer to him. After all, how can you love someone you don’t know? The effort of coming to know who God is, his character, his plans, and his ways allows me to love him more. Just because God “moves in mysterious ways” doesn’t mean that he doesn’t show you every now then. You just have to be looking.

So, this is a call, as you will, to ask our churches, Christian homes, and parents to share in the importance of loving the Lord with your mind. Teach it to your congregation and your children. Our “cool, hip” Christian settings are not going to cut it when the tough questions are asked. It’s time to raise the bar a little bit and help each other as Christians to be prepared to live “in the world but not of it”.  Yes, it is the belief in the gospel that saves you. Yes, it is through Christ dying for our sins. Yes, it is by faith and grace alone and that is the essential truth. However, we live in a world of science and logic. And wasn’t it God who created those also? Didn’t he give us minds and curiosity and a desire to seek the truth? Shouldn’t we wonder about our church history, about why some adopt doctrines and creeds and others don’t, about what different denominations believe? Then from that pursuit to form an opinion of our own and a deeper relationship with God. As Lewis, always so efficient and eloquent, put it, ““God is no fonder of intellectual slackers than He is of any other slacker.” In this time of fear and change that can so easily become overwhelming, let us fight. Let us fight for the Lord with our heart, with our soul, and with our strength, and let us show the world that we can fight with our minds as well.