... why do we always care about the destination? Do fishes know where they're swimming to each day?
Semester in reflection:
I came searching for an experience OUT OF THE ORDINARY. an experience different from the grey back home. an experience seemingly enchanted. it was as though i came searching for Narnia, or perhaps the tin-man, or maybe something out of J.K. Rowling's mind.
13,000 miles away.
The first few days you find yourself with everybody, but with no one at the same time. Seemingly incessant talking, yet no conversations emerged. Tons of people around, yet altogether lonely also. Sometimes a defeaning silence. It was really awesome.
Then you start to know people. you explore organisations. you go for classes. you do your homework. you attempt to attend every single activity which the residence hall's organising. Bit by bit life transcends into this little hamster wheel, spinning round and round and round and round...
For a minute you hang on to what you believed before you came; the discipline, the fellowship, the word, the prayer, the wheel. Then things get the better of you. People, places, peices. So many new characters to meet, new cultures to experience and definitely, a ridiculous amount of brewed beverage.
Then step by step you lose sight of that carrot that hangs directly in front of you (it's really there still, all the while). Put on shades, close your eyes, fill the surroudings with smoke - just but a few of the countless ways you attempt to distract yourself from the carrot.
But what can i be thankful about?
The carrot's still there, i just checked. It's fresh and bright and orange. Despite the lack of attention i devoted to it, it stays fresh and more importantly, it remained there.
Semester in reflection:
I came searching for an experience OUT OF THE ORDINARY. an experience different from the grey back home. an experience seemingly enchanted. it was as though i came searching for Narnia, or perhaps the tin-man, or maybe something out of J.K. Rowling's mind.
13,000 miles away.
The first few days you find yourself with everybody, but with no one at the same time. Seemingly incessant talking, yet no conversations emerged. Tons of people around, yet altogether lonely also. Sometimes a defeaning silence. It was really awesome.
Then you start to know people. you explore organisations. you go for classes. you do your homework. you attempt to attend every single activity which the residence hall's organising. Bit by bit life transcends into this little hamster wheel, spinning round and round and round and round...
For a minute you hang on to what you believed before you came; the discipline, the fellowship, the word, the prayer, the wheel. Then things get the better of you. People, places, peices. So many new characters to meet, new cultures to experience and definitely, a ridiculous amount of brewed beverage.
Then step by step you lose sight of that carrot that hangs directly in front of you (it's really there still, all the while). Put on shades, close your eyes, fill the surroudings with smoke - just but a few of the countless ways you attempt to distract yourself from the carrot.
But what can i be thankful about?
The carrot's still there, i just checked. It's fresh and bright and orange. Despite the lack of attention i devoted to it, it stays fresh and more importantly, it remained there.
1. health
2. results
3. visa issues
4. a church
5. the beginning of a new fellowship
6. wind that blew and guided the sail ahead of time
4 months can change a lifestyle. but it cannot change a faith. the carrot's still there, still guiding.
Shades off.
Smoke cleared.
Eyes open.
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