It's a Small World After All

I have arrived safely in England, and since the girls don't start coming back to school until Tuesday, we're working on getting the house ready. There was a rough map of the world on the wall in one of the common rooms that, instead of having the countries drawn out, had stickers of the country names written out in an approximation of the size and shape of each country. The problem was each sticker wasn't a country name, so literally every country name was spelled out with stickers of each individual letter in the name. So, over the hours I spent peeling probably thousands of letter stickers off the wall, I wasn't so much struck by how much I need a remedial 5th grade geography class, but of how small the world really is, yet how big it seems. My flight from Chicago to London took about 8 hours. According to Wikipedia, (I know it's Wikipedia, but bear with me here) in 1913, a London newspaper offered £10,000 to anyone who could fly an airplane from the U.S. or Canada to Great Britain or Ireland within 72 consecutive hours or less. Just a little over 100 years later, I made the journey in 1/9 of the time. In these days, the longest flight I know of is from the U.S. to Australia, which is somewhere around 24 hours. I could be in literally any country in the world in about a day or less, yet there are hundreds of countries I will never see. Back to peeling stickers, I thought about what a privilege it is that I'm able to travel to anywhere in the world. There are probably billions of people on this planet that will never have that opportunity. Our lives are polar opposites. And yet, we're all inextricably linked. I have a computer, phone, and an iPod which is ridiculous when you think about the fact that there are places in this world that struggle with access to clean water. Things that I consider common everyday items are robbing the resources of other countries, yet we depend on some of those countries to produce those very items I have. The problem is that when we watch the news and hear about epidemics, wars, and natural disasters, we often think of our world in terms of me vs. them. In reality, though, there is no me or them. There is only us. So despite the fact that I peeled stickers off the wall labeling countries as familiar as Canada, and as unfamiliar as Eritrea, we all share in the joys and tragedies of this world together.

Come Closer

A couple mornings ago, we used the poem "Closer" by Anis Mojgani in devotional, and since it's seemed to apply to so much of what we've talked about. Here's a link to read it, it's really beautiful. http://badilishapoetry.com/anis-mojgani/

The poem has been swirling around my head for the past few days, and it feels like a culmination of this entire experience. This year is a chance for me to come closer to so many beautiful and painful things in this world. I'll get to walk in community with my brothers and sisters in England, coming closer to God and to who I am. But I've also found it to call me to come closer to the pain of discrimination and violence. We've talked about the differences, and aggression we experience or witness towards people of color and people in the LGBTQI community. The stories people have shared have moved me to tears. I will never have to experience, or be able to fully understand the fear that I could be shot during a routine traffic stop because of the color of my skin, or have to hide my sexuality to avoid harassment. That doesn't mean I can keep these issues at an arms length and pretend they don't exist. We are called to come closer to the people of this world and fight for equality and justice. Until we can put inequality behind us, we are all bound by its shackles. At the same time, I read this poem, and remind myself of the value in my life. Sometimes it takes reading things like this to remember that. So I hope that this year will help me come closer to my place in this world.

A Beginning

This is really happening. I am leaving the country for England in a week and a day. I'm in Chicago for a week of orientation/training, so there's no going back on this now. I've had such a range of emotions about this experience in the past month. Probably somewhere about Friday, it became exceptionally real that I'm leaving, not only for an amazing life-changing, faith-changing experience, but also leaving behind my friends and family for almost an entire year. I began searching through my iPod for a song to help me cope with the emotions I was struggling with, when I came upon This Road by Jars of Clay, which has become somewhat of my anthem for how I'm feeling, and the title of this blog.

I still feel like I'll be in a perpetual state of panic until I get myself settled in England, but knowing that I'm here, surrounded by other people who are likely feeling much the same as I am, and people who have been through what I'm experiencing is a comfort. And I'm trying to remember that no matter how scared I may feel, I have an amazing group of people who are praying and care for me. And no matter how far away I go from home, I'm never really alone. Before I went to bed last night and attempted to get at least a few hours of sleep, I pulled out a Bible to give myself this reminder: "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD. Plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)