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.