Slow Down Time!

Time seems to be going so fast these days. Mainly it's because I've had so much to think about lately. Sadly, all these thoughts have really distracted me from the dual task I have here, learning language and developing relationships with nationals. It's really made me very tired spiritually and emotionally. I really need a pick me up.

So I turned to Philemon and read it. It's such a nice little letter. Paul begging Philemon to accept Onesimus as a brother, not just as a slave. There's no one verse that really jumps out to me. I didn't find some great spiritual truth that I had overlooked for years. It was just a refreshing little read. It's written with such a gentle tone. Paul says that he is "pleading" with Philemon in the letter and you can feel it when you read what he had to say. Paul cared for this guy and for all the people he worked with. I need that same love for the people I work with here.

Another thought, while I'm at it, is about time. It's a C.S. Lewis quote from a book called A Severe Mercy.

"And now, another point on wishes. A wish may lead to false beliefs, granted. But what does the existence of the wish suggest? At one time I was much impressed by Arnold's line 'Nor does the being hungry prove that we have bread.' But surely, tho' it doesn't prove that one particular man will get food, it does prove that there is such a thing as food! i.e. if we were a species that didn't normally eat, weren't designed to eat, would we feel hungry? You say the materialist universe is 'ugly.' I wonder how you discovered that! If you are really a product of a materialistic universe, how is it you don't feel at home there? Do fish complain of the sea for being wet? Or if they did, would that fact itself not strongly suggest that they had not always bee, or would not always be, purely aquatic creatures? Notice how we are perpetually surprised at Time. ('How time flies! Fancy John being grown-up and married! I can hardly believe it!') In heaven's name why? Unless, indeed, there is something in us which is not temporal."

Put that in your pipe and smoke it! (Assuming your company allows such things.) I know I belong somewhere else. I know this is not my home. And as a friend of mine once said, "I can't wait to get to heaven and just kick it with Jesus." Amen.

It's here...

I just have a minute, but I thought I'd tell you guys about our new neighbor... BURGER KING!!! Yes, there are a couple other ones in town, but they're all FAR from my house. But today was the grand opening of the one almost DIRECTLY ACROSS THE STREET! Get behind me Satan! I couldn't let the grand opening go by without stopping in, so me and the Boss met there for lunch. Yes, it tastes just like it does in America. Praise God.

But before you go freaking out because I'm "eating unhealthy" (which I do anyways, without Burger King), you'll be glad to know that I did go to the gym today. And if that doesn't satisfy you, at least I only ate there once today. The Boss is going back for dinner! Ha!

Alright, I think my little heater has sufficiently warmed the bathroom, so I'm going to go take my icy shower and pray that it doesn't cause my cough to turn into full blown pneumonia.

Totally Wasted Day

Saturdays are usually my "days off." It's hard to really call any day a "day on" since my usual routine consists of sitting around talking and drinking tea for hours with some language study sprinkled in for good measure. But I try to take a little break on Saturdays for myself, since even my "Sabbath" is hard work (you try deciphering a sermon that's preached in Turkish!).

So that's how I justify not doing much on Saturdays. But honestly, I still feel like I should do something, at some point, even on a Saturday. So I made up my mind that since it was raining, windy, and COOOOOLD today, that I would just hang out in the house for a while during the day and then spend a little time meeting people in the gym before going to talk to the movie rental guy that has been wanting me to sit and visit for a while. The plan was working to perfection. It rained most the day and I stayed dry. I got in two Piper sermons, one being an hour and a half biography of William Cooper. I did some reading and some writing. And I was able to catch my best friend bored at work, resulting in a nice conversation about all the latest happenings in life. It was perfectly relaxing and refreshing. The rain stopped, and the clock clicked over to 5 PM, and it was time for phase two of the plan, to put my muscles and my mouth to work.

So I got changed into my fabulous workout clothes and headed to the gym. But to my surprise, the lights were off and the padlock was on the door. I knew they closed a little earlier on Saturdays, but I didn't know it was that early! That's what I get for not reading the signs well. But, no problem, that just gives me more time to sit with the film guy, Spielberg. I'm really excited about this Spielberg fella for a couple reasons. First of all, he knows that my roommate and I are both Christians, and yet continues to insist that we meet. And secondly, he teaches Turkish in school. So it gives me hope that not only can he be a valuable resource in language learning, but that he may be seeking something deeper as well. So I come home and change into more 21st century looking clothes and head to the movie store. But as I turn the corner onto their street I'm confronted with total blackness. Every building I could see looking west was blacked out, including the movie store. I looked inside and one of his workers was there sitting in the candlelight, but said that the boss had gone home already. Well poop!

But all hope wasn't lost. I could still talk to people at the grocery store, since everybody there knows my name now. I was going to buy some healthy food for dinner, have some good conversation, then come home and make myself a wholesome dinner. One out of three ain't bad. I did get to talk to a couple people for a pretty good while. Pretty much everybody that works there knows my name, since I'm the only white man that comes in and because I try my best to practice my Turkish when I'm there. So I got to talk to two different guys for a good amount of time, even with one of my new grammar rules thrown in! But unfortunately, my "healthy food" commitment fell by the waist side. First I gave in to the temptation to buy a Coke. Next I saw that they had the chocolate pudding on sale. And finally, the real dagger into the heart of my healthy living plan, was the sight of M&Ms. This is the first time I've seen them for sale in a store in this country. So, naturally, I bought a bag. I'm already through half the Coke and am about to crack open the M&Ms. I've totally blown this day in just about every sense and it's still only 7 PM. Sad.

Quick Mid-day Post

I haven't been online much during the days lately, but I needed some time to calm my shaking hands today. It's a miracle that I'm alive to write this at all, and I say that only half-jokingly.

This morning my roommate had to appear in court to testify against the kids we nabbed trying to rob a car a while back (see Sun. Nov. 5th post for background info). We went downtown and found the court. After standing around for a while, my roommate realized that he didn't bring the subpeona thing he had and therefore, we had to go back home to get it. That's where life got interesting for us all and almost came to an end on multiple occassions.

My roommate is not a good driver. In fact, he's pretty awful. This isn't just my opinion either. In what was almost some eery foreshadowing, the other guy who came to the court with us, Herman, called my roommate's car a "casket" as we were getting out of it at the court house. I mean, it was just two weeks ago when he backed into an apartment building doing a good five miles per hour in an effort to park. He's also side-swiped the curb trying to pull into our apartment building's parking lot, backed into a nice Volkswagen in the hospital parking lot, and, as he told me this morning, after stalling at a red light, allowed his car to roll back into another car as he was trying to start it back up again. Luckily for us all, these small accidents have caused no physical harm to anyone and only minimal damage to his car, other people's cars, and the various stationary objects that he has managed to strike.

There are a multitude of reasons for why my roommate is a bad driver. A few of them are: awful hand eye coordination, inability to do more than one thing at a time (ex. steer and shift gears, steer and press the gas, steer while in reverse, etc.), lack of muscle control (he slams on the brakes and stomps on the gas, there's nothing gradual about either), ignorance of steering dynamics, friction, or the general laws of physics, either a decreased field of vision or the complete loss of sight in one eye, a tendency to overreact, and poor decision making. That's a short list, but you get the idea.

So when you take all this into account, I hope you can get a good feel of the peril I was in. Because not only do you have all of the above in play here, but you also have to consider the fact that my roommate is scared (believing that these kids work for some mophia crime boss who pays them to steal phones and thus will pay someone to stab my roommate on the witness stand, and if you think I'm making that up, first take into account that he asked TWO of us to go with him, and if you still don't believe me, you can call my roommate and ask him yourself, he speaks English) and he's rushed (since it wasn't until he was called to court that he realized that he just might need the official document that summoned him there to begin with). So we went flying down the road doing well over the posted speed limit. Twice we fish tailed. TWICE! And listen, these roads aren't snow covered. There is no black ice on the bridges. It hasn't even rained here in a couple weeks. We're talking about completely dry roads at ten in the morning on a rather warm day and we're in a tank of a vehicle. How he got it to fish tail is beyond me, but to do it twice, and neither time purposefully, is quite a feat. The only thing that surpasses that in greatness is the fact that both times we regained control despite all the odds against us. We were flying both times, my roommate is a horrible driver (see above paragraph), and we were in a car not known for it's handling, braking, looks, gas mileage, well, not known for anything really. But somehow, only by the very hand of God I assume, we safely made the trip from court to house and back to court without any injury to us.

Unfortunately, the guy walking across the street in front of us wasn't so lucky. We had made it to the house and all the way back to the court, surviving both fish tail experiences, and were making the final turn into the street where we wanted to park when my roommate really fouled up. He was making a sharp left turn and was watching some mopeds parked on the corner. I had just said, "Take it slow," when we hit the guy. Luckily, the guy was walking away from us and we just clipped one of his legs with the bumper. It didn't knock him over, which, again, was lucky, because he was an older, frail looking gentleman. But as old and frail as his body looked, his mouth was young and full of spunk. He let into my roommate pretty hard through the window and my roommate did his best to look sorry even though he admitted to being more worried about hitting the mopeds. Classy.

Needless to say, I took the bus home. I got something to eat, studied some new grammar rules (thanks Caesar), and am finally calm enough to venture back out into the world again. It's off to the gym first, and then, after that, I may go try to find someone to practice these new grammar rules on. But you can rest assured, wherever I go, I will be watching for that flying casket on wheels!

Ah, the Turkish bath!

Just sitting here thinking about it makes me feel more relaxed, happier, and sweatier...



So here's the run down on how this whole Turkish bath thing works. We showed up and paid our dues. They gave us each a key for a little locker off to the side. There, we undressed. I think going nude was an option, but the three of us opted to keep the boxers. Then, you grab yourself a pair of the house slippers to wear and a little cloth thing to wrap around your waste, and it's off you go.

Once inside, you have a wide range of things to choose from, but I think what we did was pretty typical. The room is large, with a high, domed ceiling, with the light being provided by small holes in the dome of the ceiling. The method of lighting the room gives it a strange ambience. In the middle of the room is a large octagonal rock. The room is very hot and humid. We went it and sat around on the large rock in the middle to start with. Not only is the room hot, but we found out very quickly that the big rock is hot too! But, we unwrapped the cloth from around our wastes, used it as a little blanket, and got comfortable on the rock. You just sit or lay there and sweat, allowing your muscles to relax and unwind. After being in for a while, an old man started calling us over one by one to a wooden plank on one side of the rock. There he would put a mitten thing on his hand and rub your whole body. And when I say "whole body," I mean your WHOLE body. From there I was directed to a man sitting by a fountain with a big bucket. There were these fountains spaced around the big room at intervals. They had a hot and a cold water faucet with a large marble sink to catch the water in. At this one, the man had a seperate bucket of suds. Here he washed my hair for me. He did a great job, it was the best scalp rub, and maybe the only scalp rub, I have ever had. Once he had rinsed me out, he pulled this huge sponge thing out of his bucket. It was scratchier than a normal sponge and was roughly the size of my entire back. He used it to wash my back, my chest and stomach, then my legs and arms. After a good rinse, I was free to roam the hot room again. So I started to look around and noticed that there were four rooms that you could go into from the big room. Three of the rooms were private bath rooms where people would go to continue washing themselves at a fountain. But the fourth room had a sign next to it that said "Sauna." Seeing as how I was already sweating profusely, I didn't see that going into a sauna would be much different, but I went in anyways. The room was small and very dimly light. They used the same lighting system as the big room, with just some small holes in a small dome over the center of the room, but the plexiglass that covered the holes was almost black from the charcoal heaters that kept the room warm. And boy did they keep it warm! It was oppressive heat. One of the guys that came with me couldn't stay in the room because he couldn't breath with the air so hot. I had to labor to breath myself, but it felt great. I sat in there for a while and then went out to a fountain to wash off with some luke warm water. I started to wander again and found that in the "in between" room, between the lobby and the big room, was a small pool full of ice cold water. I went back into the big room and told the other guys about it. We tried to acclimate ourselves a little by pouring some luke warm water over us but when the time came, nothing had us prepared. To say it took your breath away would be an understatement. If my body temperature hadn't already been thirty degrees above normal, my heart may have just stopped right then. But as hot as I had been for the past hour and a half, it only took five minutes in that pool to return to normal. But as shocking as it was, it really felt good. We went back out into the lobby, dried off, and changed back into our street clothes. We sat around and had a drink (I tried carrot juice for the first time and was not impressed) before venturing back out into the real world.

When I walked out of that building, I felt like a new man. It was the cleanest I had felt in years! (No showering jokes needed.) One of my buddies said he was having trouble walking his leg muscles were so relaxed and loose. It was awesome. With the cold weather set in for another month or so, I hope to make at least one more visit to the place this winter. I don't know if it'll be quite as refreshing in the middle of July. But all in all, it was one of the most relaxing and refreshing experiences of my life. If you have a chance, definitely check out your local Turkish bath. (And if you're wondering if it's really a "Turkish" bath that you've wandered into, just look to see if your masseuse is dark skinned and has a hairy back. If so, it's genuine!)

In other news, I am almost completely over my little cold. I had a fever Sat night, but slept half the day yesterday and stole a two hour nap this afternoon as well. I took the lead in one of our exercises tonight at English class and things went fairly well. The students still have a hard time seeing me as the "teacher" since I am young enough to be their child, but as I am being phased into the teaching, I think their respect for me is growing as well.

John, I have a whole carton of Akdeniz Suyu in the fridge now. It may make it to lunch tomorrow. Maybe. Gouge, I hope this doesn't bring the "sex site" lockdown again. Sex Sex Sex. And Monsieur Masson, you have my email address now. I am waiting to hear from you and/or your lovely wife.

You'll just have to wait...

I'm sorry to disappoint. There are so many great stories to tell about the week with Caesar. I can't wait to give you all the rundown on the Turkish bath, our trip to Tarsus, and all the great conversations that took place. But you know what? I will wait.

Why? Because I am sick. I kind of had a cough yesterday, but it has turned into quite a hacker and there's a fever to go along with it. I'll be honest with all of you now, as much as I'd like to be a big, strong, tough man, when I get sick, I turn into a pretty big baby.



I don't want to get up. I don't want to make myself something to drink or eat. I just want to lie in bed! It's at times like this that I wish I had a wife/mother/good friend (preferably with soft, warm hands to feel my head with and a sweet southern accent to read to me with) here to take care of me.

I hope I feel good enough to go to church tomorrow. And rest assured that as soon as I'm better, you'll get to hear all about the week that was with Caesar Augustus.

He's here!

My boy Caesar Augustus is here. He's actually a university student in another city of the country, but earned the name Caesar by beating myself and four of the V boys in a massive game of Risk, the game of global domination, a couple nights ago. He is a fair, just, and honorable ruler.



But he has come to enjoy some of his break from his university classes. I don't know if he's really getting much rest, but we're having a blast. The first night he was here, we had a big dinner with all our new co-workers over at the V house. That was when he showed his military prowess in the war to end all wars (which I would've won if it hadn't have been for West Africa who held off my offensive despite the fact that I held a 26-18 advantage going in). Then yesterday, he got to experience Turkish church for the first time. He said that he was really encouraged to see people worshipping God and doing church together in a place where it's not really all that common or accepted. After church we met one of his friends from university (yeah, he visits me and we spend time with his friends!) for dinner. We had an awesome spread, as you can only get in this city, and Caesar got to experience some of the local cuisine. We had a lot of good conversation over dinner and then we left there for some time at the pool hall. I wiped the table with these poor boys (they teamed up to play me). One game, the only one of their balls to go in was one that I sank accidentally. So to get revenge, this other guy wanted to play some ping pong. Well, he did end up beating me in three of the four games we played, but I took one from him and sent another one into quadruple overtime before he snatched it from me. It was really a ton of fun and I declared it the best day of 2007, so far! I know it's only been a week, but you got to set the bar sometime, and last night it was set pretty high.

So we came home and sat around talking and working a puzzle my roommate had gotten for his birthday. We talked about everything from life to love to the Holy Ghost. It really felt like both of us were just unloading all the thoughts and emotions we'd been storing up over the last couple months. To go this long without any meaningful conversation with someone that I feel can relate is really tough. But now that he's here, I took advantage of it. We talked LATE into the night, into the early morning. We covered every imaginable topic that had been concerning us. Time management, what our jobs are, do we "need" recreation, can you find God in the NBA or in the music Dave Matthews makes, what we're going to do after this time here is over, what it'll be like trying to readjust to life in America, learning this stinking language, how to handle awkward times with the opposite sex, what'd we'd like to see happen and change, not just around us, but in us. There was much more to it than that, but I can't recall everything we talked about in all those hours of conversation. I can just tell you that it felt great and it's such a blessing to have this guy around for a few days. He's a great friend, a friend that's as close as a brother.

And with this brother, I'm making my first trip to a Turkish bath today. I will not be posting pictures of this trip, but you can be assured it will get a blog entry. I can't wait!

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins.
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalks ends.
-Shel Silverstein

It's really late here, I can't sleep, and I was going to post this tomorrow anyways, so you're getting a good one late at night.

I love this poem, and this whole book. I randomly found it on the shelf at the little Co-Op school I help out at. It's full of fun little poems that make you laugh and a few that really make you think. This is one of those that does both. I don't know what Shel was getting at when he wrote this, but I like to think he was talking about going to heaven someday. That's where life's "sidewalk" will surely end. The walk that is "measured and slow" sounds to me a lot like walking in righteousness, and it's the type of walk I want to walk here, in this life, to bring some joy and light to the place "where the smoke blows black."

So if you get a chance pick up a copy of this book. It's really great. I'll leave you with an interesting note about Shel and a few more little poems of his. Interesting fact: Shel Silverstein actually wrote country music! He is the author of one of Johnny Cash's major hits, "A Boy Named Sue." He also did some recording with the great Jerry Reed and even greater Waylon Jennings. I never would've guessed that.

"My Beard"
My beard grows to my toes,
I never wear no clothes,
I wraps my hair
Around my bare,
And down the road I goes.

"My Rules"
If you want to marry me, here's what you'll have to do:
You must learn how to make a perfect chicken-dumpling stew.
And you must sew my holey socks,
And soothe my troubled mind,
And develop the knack for scratching my back,
And keep my shoes spotlessly shined.
And while I rest you must rake up the leaves,
And when it is hailing and snowing
You must shovel the walk... and be still when I talk,
And-hey-where are you going?

Waking up at 6 AM is good for the soul.

Actually, it was before 6, but I didn't get out of bed till about five till. Why the early rise? God was calling to me.

Let me set the stage for this one. Last week was wonderful. The whole holiday season has been great. I spent a lot of good, quality time with some friends that have become as close as family here. I enjoyed hanging out with the grown ups and playing with the kids. I ate a ton of good food and was thankful that I had people to spend the holidays with. Then it happened. Everything stopped.

No more dinners, no more parties, no more friends. They were still there, they didn't go anywhere, but I was not with them. I had spent a large chunk of the last two weeks immersed in an English speaking world full of Americans. I had avoided, for a full week, almost any meaningful interaction with a Turk. So when all the celebrations were over and I was left in my apartment with no one to talk to, I slumped.

I had the moops most the day Sunday (our wonderful dinner excluded), all day Monday, and all day yesterday. I couldn't break myself out of it. I was lonely. I wanted to talk to people. I can't talk to people here. I don't know the language. I can't talk to people in America. Our lives are just too different now. (These are my thoughts, not realities.) So I was stuck. I was stuck in feelings of unrequited love and unrequited friendship. And I was stuck with these feelings in a country that doesn't want me here. So that's what I went to bed with last night.

Then I had a bad dream. It was a dream about my time in Colorado, with the Division of Wildlife. In the dream, I met with some game wardens that had heard stories about me and thought of me very highly. I showed them some things that I knew and their idea of me grew. Finally in the dream, I was sitting in an office interviewing to be rehired, only I was being interviewed by one of the people that disliked me the most while I was there. I woke up, before 6, and laid in bed thinking about second chances. Not just with this job, but in all areas of life. Sometimes we get them, sometimes we don't. But that's not what struck me.

I went to the bathroom, made myself a cup of coffee, and then came back in here and sat down. As I sat here, the silence was broken by the call of the minarets, the mornings first time of prayer. It echoes very loudly in the calm blackness of the morning here, and it echoed in my soul. God may grant me a second chance in CO someday. I may get a second chance with some beautiful girl. I may get a second chance to befriend the guys I meet randomly. But once someone dies following the teachings of Muhammed, there is no more second chance for them. They are gone. Damned to an eternity in hell, apart from the one true and glorious God.

So there is no time to be moping around, wallowing in self pity. I may feel lonely, but I am not alone. I have the Spirit of the Most High God with me at all times. That is a comfort that the people here can not rest in. As I look out my window, I see apartment buildings full of literally thousands of people lost in darkness. I have a language to learn. I have friends to make. I have truth to spread. I may get a second chance at a lot of things during my life, but I do not get a second chance at life. Once a day is gone, it is gone. There's no going back.

So I am committing myself to making the most of the time I have here. I don't want to waste days. I will work on this language. I will work on finding friends. I was work on building relationships. When I need it, I will work on resting my body and soul. But I must work while it is day, because night is fast approaching.

Judging by past experience, I am sure I will need this same pep talk in the weeks and months to come. But I am holding on to it now. God woke me up before the sun this morning so that I could hear the call to prayer, both from the minaret, and from His Spirit.

Grape Leaves, Cheeks and Ears, and Walking the Line

So I welcomed in the New Year with a family from church. My roommate and I arrived in time for dinner, a little after 8, and man, what a dinner! I felt horrible, but the poor lady put so much on my plate that I could not clear it. I was beginning to feel sick by how much I had already eaten when she asked if I wanted more. It was unbelievable. There was eggplant cooked in a tomato sauce with some sort of sausage, some other sausage things that were deep fried in breading (think small corn dog except with spicy lamb sausage), there were all types of salads (four different ones I think), homemade humus, baked chicken (of which I was given a whole quarter), rice, and finally, and by far the best, were these little grape leave things. They were the size and shape of those really big pretzel sticks. It was simply grape leaves stuffed with rice and spicy meat and I don't know if I've eaten anything in this country that tasted as good. You can see why I was feeling so sick to my stomach! I ate till I just couldn't eat anymore. Then, around 10 or so, a table of different fruits and nuts was brought into the living room (yes, they picked up the kitchen table and brought the whole thing). I had to eat again, since one of the daughters was peeling fruit and handing it to me. If it hadn't have tasted so good, I would've been miserable. As it was, it was a good miserable.

But by far the best part of the evening for me was after the fruit and nut table was finished. The little girl (I'm guessing maybe 8 years old) took the better part of an hour teaching me the Turkish word for different things in the living room, and different body parts. She was great, and honestly, I probably learned more new words in that hour than I did all last week. She is a tough teacher! More than once I had to hold out my hand so she could slap it for missing words. And surprisingly, the hardest two words for me to get right were the words for cheek and ear. They're similar enough to confuse me and different enough to make me feel like an idiot when I can't get them right. When it was all said and done, it was probably the most laid back New Year's Eve I've had in a while and by far the most I've eaten on New Year's Eve (that does not include New Year's at the Gouges, since they're dinner is on New Year's Day, not Eve).

And finally, if you haven't seen the movie "Walk the Line," go watch it. It really is a good movie. It's just a movie about life, the life of a very famous man, but a very mortal man. It'll give you a little insight into why Johnny Cash was so famous to begin with. He could relate to his fans. I am in no way saying my life has been anything like his, but I can say that if any celebrity could walk into one of my family's patented Christmas Smackdowns and not be caught off guard, it'd be a man like Johnny Cash. And though adulterous in nature, the love story between himself and June Carter is great. I love a movie with a whole lot of loving in it! Watching the movie took me back home, to Piedmont, SC, and to the nights my grandpa would get drunk and crank up his western swing eight tracks and dance with my sister in the living room. Good times.

Is this year over with yet?

Goodbye 2006. You have been nothing but a pain for me. I will always look back on you as being one of the worst of my life. There will be nothing good ever said about you. May you be a curse from generation to generation.

Why the unbridled hatred directed towards such an innocent thing as a calendar year? Because Clemson lost, again.

It was good enough for us to rise to #10 in the nation, with a 7-1 record, and then fall, miserable and pathetically, to 8-4, just missing a trip to the ACC championship game and losing to our archrivals. No, 2006 had one last kick in the groin for me. I had to watch Clemson lose to Kentucky. Yes, I am talking about football here, not basketball. KENTUCKY!!! Why? I do not know. First of all, I knew Kentucky would be able to throw the ball on us. Our defense has been a little soft as of late, our secondary is our weakest spot anyways, and on top of that, our best cornerback was arrested last week for possession of marijuana. They did. What I didn't expect was that we'd abandon the run so completely. I mean, James Davis and CJ Spiller are not called "thunder lightning" for nothing! Between them I think they ended up with just 13 carries. Why? Rob Spence, you completely baffle me at times. Oh yeah, another thing I did not expect, though looking back, I can't remember why not, is that Jad Dean missed two more field goals. Jad, you will not be missed. If that wasn't bad enough, he was pulled from the game, and after our first TD some other hack came off the bench to shank the extra point. Heaven help us all. You know who else hasn't made my Christmas card list? Will Proctor. If I had a dollar for everytime I shouted "Proctor you are awful" at the computer screen this year, I'd be a rich man. It's a two point conversion Will. You can't just run the ball out of bounds! Just throw it up for crying out loud! Give a guy a chance!

You're (speaking to the entire 2006 Clemson football team here) killing me guys. Like I didn't have enough on my plate trying to live a righteous life in a sin stained body, living in the Muslim world and trying to find God's elect that are being held captive here, trying to sort through various emotions, thoughts, and feelings that come with living in a foreign land far away from friends and family. Don't worry about me. Just throw on to all that the most disappointing Clemson football team to have ever put on those orange jerseys. I can handle it.

And way to go Houston. 1st and goal at the 8 turns into 4th and goal at the 50? That's the first time I've ever heard of someone punting on 4th and goal. The worst part? You lost by a TD, the TD you should've scored on that 1st and goal from the 8 play. Man I hate the University of South Carolina.

Merry Christmas from the Family!

Carve the Turkey
Turn the ball game on
Mix margaritas when the eggnog's gone
Send somebody to the Quickpak Store
We need some ice and an extension chord
A can of bean dip and some Diet Rites
A box of tampons, some Marlboro Lights
Haleluja everybody say Cheese
Merry Christmas from the family

If you don't know how Robert Earl Keen is, go buy his CD, "The Party Never Ends." It's a classic.

So what was my first Christmas like away from home? I'll give you the rundown...

Friday: White Elephant party at the Co-Op School. Laughed so hard I thought I would cry. Afterwards I made a trip to the symphony orchestra. The music was incredible, the atmosphere was not. There was a college aged girl to my left talking on her cell phone when it started, a kid standing up his chair and talking in front of me, and a grown man behind fell asleep and was snoring very loudly near the end.

Saturday: Finished Christmas shopping. Had a Whopper at Burger King. Went to the V's Christmas Party and explained the meaning of Halloween to some Turks (I do what I can). Hung out there till late and headed home.

Sunday: Went to the International Church to videotape the V kids and the Boss' kids in their Christmas play. Left there and got to my church in time to make tea. We did our Christmas program. Sat around afterwards and talked to a man from the Bahai faith that I found out later has been excommunicated from other churches in the country for trying to preach his own deranged message. Went to dinner with seven other "youth" (remember, anyone between 21 and 45, married or not) and had a sweet time of fellowship that included a lot of laughs. Went home, grabbed all my gifts, and headed to the V house. Played some X-Box (I'm on a two game winning streak against the 7th grader), some backgammon, and finally the kids went to bed.

Monday: I'm going to start Monday here, even though Sunday and Monday kind of run together. You see, I stayed up all night talking to people on the V's Vonage phone. First it was Grandma. She was missing me pretty bad. She also confessed to feeding my dog table food. My dog is going to be so fat. Then I talked to my Dad. He was going to visit one of his girlfriends (I'm not making this up). Then I called my buddy Paul, who I found out, is now engaged. We talked for a couple hours. I got to meet his fiance for the first time. By this time the sun had come up and so had the V clan. So when they all made it downstairs, we exchanged gifts. We sat around talking and laughing and playing some games. The boys put in one of their new movies and I finally got to sleep, though only for an hour. We all went to another couple's place for snacks and conversation. We stayed for a few hours before heading to the Boss' house for a big dinner with the team and some people from the Air Force base. It was so wonderful. Not only did we have some of the best fellowship I've had in a long time, but we laughed till my face hurt, and on top of all that, we had HAM and DR. PEPPER!!! We ended up sitting around and talking till 11, when Papa V gave me a ride back to my place.

All in all, it was one of the best Christmas' I've ever had. And before you go thinking that I'm just saying that to try and talk myself out of being homesick, let me tell you two little stories that still bring tears to my eyes now, as I type this. Sunday evening, Papa V got all the kids together down in the living room for their family Bible reading. He read the Christmas story from Luke and gave a little talk about it. I had little Tom Tom cuddled up on my right, Stevo on my left, and all the other kids sitting around. Everyone prayed and we all went back to what we were doing. It may not sound like much, but that is something I have never had and never been a part of. It's something that I've always dreamt about, but never thought was actually real. I didn't know there were men in this world that actually did those types of things with their families. It was precious. The other story is later that night, when it was getting close to midnight. Something was said that reminded me of a story. As I told the first story, all the kids gathered round to listen. So when I finished, they all wanted to hear another one. Well, I'm full of stories, and I love to tell them. So the two big kids pulled up chairs. Stevo sat on the arm of my chair, and little Tom Tom, as cute as can be, curled up in my lap with his head laying on my chest and started to fall asleep as I told stories. For those of you that didn't really know me before, I'll just say that me and kids never really got along so well. And to have these four kids gathered round me with little Tom Tom curled up in my lap and listening so intently to what I had to say, it was just too good to be true. It was these little times that really made this one of the best Christmas' of my life.

And for everyone who needs something to smile about this Christmas season, here's Tom Tom and the Boss' son to cheer you up a little...


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Oh, the Possibilities!

So I've got a little bit of disappointing news. The village trip we were supposed to take this week didn't happen. "Why?" you ask. Sit back and let Mr. Chris tell you a story.

Alright, first, the characters: Myself (C-Love), the Boss (my boss here), the Brain (another teacher in our school), Pinky (the Brain's wife), Amen (a local Turkish Christian), Solomon and Zechariah (the two guys we were going to visit), Kansas (what I will call the village we were going to visit), and the BCC (Bible Correspondence Course, a program for people who want information about the Bible). For the background, check two posts down.

So the Boss and I were headed to Kansas this week to meet with Solomon and Zechariah. I met the Boss at the office and we were set to leave around 11. The Boss was watching a show about the NBA and wanted to see what they had to say about the Allen Iverson trade, since he's from Philly. As soon as it ended, we were going to leave. Just as the segment on AI starts, the Boss' phone rings. It's the Brain. The Boss and the Brain talk for a while and then the Boss calls some other guy (turns out it was Amen) and talks to him for a while. When he gets off the phone he tells me that we're not going. Of course, my first question is, "Why?" Here's the story. Pinky and Amen were just talking that morning about what had been going on lately. Amen says to her, "Do you know anyone with the BCC named Henry?" Pinky says, "No, I don't. Why?" Amen says, "Because I was told someone from here named Henry was going to Kansas to visit two guys. If you find out who it is, let me know." "Will do," Pinky tells him. So Pinky goes home to the Brain and tells him of this strange conversation about the mysterious Henry. The Brain says, "I don't know any Henry, but the Boss and C-Love are supposed to be going to Kansas this week to meet with someone. I wonder if that's who he meant?" "I don't know," Pinky replied, "but I think you should call Amen, he seemed worried." So the Brain calls Amen and is told that the two men, Solomon and Zechariah, are bad guys. Apparently Amen had met with them already and found out that they were part of a religiously conservative and anti-American political party that is based in Kansas. Amen didn't think it would be very wise for two very white men to go driving into their village to meet with these guys, so he told the Brain to pass the word to us.

So that's the story. The Boss and I talked it over later, and before you get all "Oh my gosh that's so scary" on me, let me explain a couple things. First of all, Turks overreact to just about everything. I've witnessed this on numerous occassions in my time here. If something happens, either good or bad, there is a strong tendency to blow it out of proportion. Secondly, Turks are very suspicious and untrusting people. They trust no one that they don't know, and honestly, they don't trust half the people they do know. And thirdly, they have a ton of prejudices that are strongly held. They have prejudices against Americans, Greeks, Armenians, Kurds, Arabs, and even Turks from other parts of their own country. So with the combination of all three of these, their natural tendency to overreact, their suspicious frame of mind, and the prejudices they have against some of their own countrymen, it's hard to know exactly what the situation is here. Honestly, it probably wasn't the wisest thing to go driving up there with just the two of us whities, but at the same time, I don't think there was any danger in it like Amen believed there was.

So I don't know what we'll do. The Boss and I discussed a lot about what our role as foreigners is in this country and in this town. It's a difficult question to answer. There are things that we just don't understand due to cultural differences and just general ignorance about things in this country. The prejudices against us and the ulterior motives a lot of people have for befriending us makes even the "safest" relationships uneasy and unsettling at times. Because of those reasons, and others, this type of ministry may not be something we can take part in. But we'll see. We're still thinking through it and still praying over what our role is going to be here. Hopefully this is not the end of the story with Solomon and Zechariah. I'm hoping and praying that it was an overreaction and that these guys are genuinely seeking. Even members of anti-American Muslim political parties can have their hearts touched by the Holy Spirit. That's what I pray happened here. But if it's not, I praise God for sending Amen to Pinky that day, and for getting the word to us in time, literally five minutes before we were leaving.

In other news, tonight is the last night of practice for our choir performance. Pray that we can pull it together and sound decent (good may be stretching it) on Sunday. Also, I'm going to be fairly busy the next few days, with holiday things. I'm teaching tomorrow, then there's a party and gift swap after school, and in the evening, I will be attending a performance of Anton Bruckner's Symphony No. 4 by the local symphony orchestra. Saturday, I have to finish my Christmas shopping and I will be visiting with the V family as they have sort of an "open house" for their neighbors to come and visit. Sunday I will be going to the international church to see the V boys and the Boss' kids in a Christmas play before going to my own church and giving my first international choral performance. Monday, Christmas Day, will see me visit the V family and the Boss' family to pass out Christmas cheer, then attend a city wide worship time that night at a local church.

So, if you would, take a minute and pray for Solomon and Zechariah. And while you're at it, pray for all of us spending the holiday season away from our families. Specifically, the V family I think is having some homesickness issues and a Dear Friend of mine is also dealing with some difficult emotions. Take whatever time you would've prayed for me today and give it to them instead.

It's in the books.

Now if I could only find the books...

Yesterday was my first foray into the world of ESL teaching. I wasn't actually teaching, but observing one of my bosses (yeah, try having two bosses for a while) teaching his class with a group of people from our bank. Basically all I did was make copies of the handouts and sat there and took notes on how to teach. It was actually quite an enjoyable night. There were five students, all adults (over 30), and even though none of them had taken an English class within the last twenty years, they knew much more English than I do Turkish. In that sense, it was quite embarassing for me. But, it made the class a lot of fun. We were just reviewing simple "to be" phrases, making negatives, and making questions. They all were cutting up, both in English and Turkish, and we all just had a blast. If this is what teaching English is like on a regular basis, I'm going to enjoy this a good bit I think.



But before you go thinking it was just the perfect night, let me add this in there really quick. About an hour before the class started, the power went out for the third time yesterday. It had gone off twice during the day, but was not out for long. However, not long after sundown, it went out again, and was off for over an hour. So instead of having class in our office, we had to relocate to the bank. It wasn't a problem really, but it was just one of those "Only in Central Asia" moments (though I'm sure it happens more often in Africa and South America and places like that).

Electricity Woes, A Cheap Narnia, and Two Great Possibilities

Three months ago I never would've imagined saying this, but it's cold here! It has been chilly for over a month now and is supposed to get even colder in Jan. It's really not all that cold here. Temperature wise, it's actually milder than South Carolina. But, there's always a but, all buildings are made of concrete. What does that mean? It means that on an average morning, it's roughly 10 degrees colder in my apartment than it is outside the apartment. As crazy as this sounds, sometimes it's so cold inside, that I have to open the door to let some warm air in. Strange I know, but true. I'm sure you're thinking, "But Chris, why don't you just turn on the heat?" It's an honest question, and here's my honest answer. First of all, there was no heat. I had to go buy (thank you Lottie) my own heater for my room. It's a little radiator looking thing with oil inside. The radiator heats the oil and subsequently the room. It's supposed to be much more energy efficient than the regular electric space heaters. Well, that may be true, but after the first month of usage, it tripled our electric bill! That's right, TRIPLED! My roommate was not happy, and neither was I, since it was obviously my heater's fault. But, c'est la vie. I guess I'll pay it this time. But I'm being much more conservative with my heater usage this month. So currently I have on my winter coat and ski cap with a blanket rapped around my legs as I type with very cold fingers. I'll be dog gone if I'm going to pay another $30 electric bill!

Since I've been drained by the power company, I've had to be a little more selective in my entertainment purchases lately. There's no use wasting money on the frivolties of life when our electric bill is in double digits! But I made friends with a DVD salesman down the street and was in the mood for a good movie the other night, so I went to see his collection. Unfortunately, DVDs are expensive. I saw some for what would be about $25. Granted, it's not much more than what you'd pay for one in America, but still, that's a lot. I was just about to pay it when my friend offered me a deal I couldn't refuse. Instead of buying the $25 DVD, he'd give me one for the US equivelant of about $3.25. Ok, I'll take it! He pulls a box out from under the counter are starts going through piles of homemade DVDs with copies of the actual DVD box covers on them. Well, sure enough, out pops the Chronicles of Narnia. I bought it, brought it home, gave it to Eve to play, and sure enough, it is a wonderful copy of the original DVD. So I guess you can add breaking federal copyright laws to my list of lifetime accomplishments.

And finally, and more seriously, two pretty cool things that happened this week. First of all, I got to share with the man I buy pants from. I have talked to him a few times in the past, just stopping in when I'm in the area to chat. But, as usual, my language difficulties limits our conversations. Well, this past week, I was supposed to help a family in the church paint their living room one afternoon. They stood me up. Once I realized that they were not coming, I grabbed my dictionary, my Incil, and my pen and paper, and off I went. I dove into the heart of the city and found my pants man to sit down and practice some language and maybe learn a new word or two. But, providentially, the conversation turned to Christmas, and I was able to lay out almost the whole Gospel, almost. Granted, I don't know that he was too receptive, but honestly, I couldn't understand what he was saying enough to really know what he was thinking. Hopefully the next time I see him, which will be one day this week coming up, we can get back into the conversation and maybe God will grant me the gift of tongues (don't tell the Trustees) long enough for me to share the Gospel, the whole Gospel, with this guy.

The second really cool thing happened a few days later. My boss and I met with two guys that live in a village close by that wanted to get together and talk about Christ. The story, as best I could make out, goes like this. They found an internet site about Christianity. The got connected with a believer in Istanbul and began an email and MSN Messenger correspondence with him. The two guys got their hands on a Bible and started reading it together, asking the guy in Istanbul whatever questions came up. Recently, for reasons I don't know, they decided that they wanted to meet with someone in person, locally, to discuss what they had been reading. Word made it's way down the chain to us and we met them for lunch. So that's the background. On the way to this meeting me and my boss were talking and agreed that there's really five reasons someone would want to meet with us. 1) They want Money. 2) They want a job. 3) They want to learn English. 4) They want to go to America. 5) They want to learn about the one true God. So we've got a one in five chance with these guys. I like my odds. The lunch went well. I didn't speak hardly at all as my boss and one of the other guys did most the talking. The impression that I got, and my boss did as well, was that these guys are genuinely seeking. It's hard to judge the guy who wasn't talking because, well, he didn't talk much. But at least the one guy seemed to be interested in learning more. So this week we're driving out to their village to meet with them again. If they're for real, this is my first opportunity to do some real foundation laying with someone here. It'll be a great chance to disciple some guys and try to develop a ministry in a town where there is no other known believers. It's really exciting to think about the possibilities, but I have to remind myself, that they're just that right now, just possibilities. There are no guarantees that these guys will care, listen, or believe what we have to say. There are no gaurantees that anything will come of either of these opportunities, but if something does, it's going to be a very exciting time.

More Improvements, "Normal" Thoughts, and Sex Sex Sex

As you can see again, or at least I hope you can see it, I have been adding some touches to the recent drab look of the blog. Hopefully it worked and you see some guys on little horses down in the bottom left corner. If not, then it's back to the drawing board.

Just thought I'd throw out a thought I discussed with my boss today. He was telling me about all the "strange" testimonies he has heard from people recently, brought on by a prayer request for a cousin of mine and subsequently, a brief personal testimony. It really made me question, "What is a 'normal' testimony?" I mean really, what is the 'normal' path people take to finding Christ and living a life devoted to him. Most people would say that growing up in a Christian home, to Christian parents, involved in church since the day you were born, making some sort of decision as a child, and, finally, really 'dedicating' your life to Christ at some point in high school or early college (though it sounds a lot like that could be actual time of conversion but we can save the whole "Lord and/or Saviour" argument for next time). That sounds pretty "normal" to me. But is it really that "normal?" If so, why are there thousands of families, devoted Christian families, mourning for lost children? How can you have two kids, growing up in the same household, and have one choose Christ and one not? Or better yet, how can someone who has spent so much time in church, with all the hypocrisy and problems that it brings (not bashing the church here, I love it, just stating the facts), believe in the God that supposedly rules over it? And let's not even talk about the Gospel. God becoming man, being born of a virgin, resurrecting himself from the grave? I mean, really, it's pretty crazy stuff. So I don't think that even the most "normal" sounding testimony is something that we should label "normal." The crazy testimonies about people on drugs or getting miraculous healing or whatever are just as "normal" as any others, because when you boil it all down, there's nothing normal about believing in Christ. It's crazy. It really is. If it were really all that normal, there wouldn't be so many lost people still wandering around lost!

And in completely unrelated news, but in order to explain my use of the word "sex" in the title, my friend Robbie Gouge has informed me that his Norton Internet Security device has blocked him from reading this blog and labeled it a "Sex Site" due to my "No Underwear" post a few days ago. I hope I have not caused any problems for any one else. I'll be sure to clean things up around here from now on... maybe.

The X-Box Hates Me, No Underwear, Silent Night, and a Relevant Link

This may be long, and I could break it up into a few entries, but I'm just going to put it out there for you now since I'll be busy for the rest of the week and since all of this happened over the weekend anyways.

First of all, the Vs have an X-Box with NCAA 05, which, even though I am 24, is totally addicting to me. I could play it for hours. And I'd like to think I'm pretty good. That is until I played a seventh grader who I will call Indiana. The first time we played, he picked Ohio State, ranked sixth or seventh, and I chose Clemson, which is ranked fifteenth but has low ratings in all statistical areas. He ran over in the beginning, until I figured out how to slow down his running game. I ended up beating him in the second half, but he had too much of a lead and I lost. So the second time we played, he got LSU, ranked third, so to even things up, I got USC, ranked first. Well, he had two, not one, but TWO Hail Mary passes that were tipped into the air and subsequently caught by another one of his receivers for a TD. Why was he throwing Hail Mary passes? Because when the playing field was even, he could do nothing against my defense. So he was up by three, but I drove right down the field to about his 30 yard line. I had a deep ball batted down, though it was only man to man coverage, and the next play he intercepted Matt Leinhart, the Heisman trophy winner from that year, again, in man to man coverage. 0-2. But it gets worse. We played again this past weekend, me with Clemson again, and this time Indiana chose Southern Miss which, though unranked, has better grades in the different statistical categories. He had TWO INTs of balls thrown into man to man coverage and I fumbled the ball at my own 20 on the VERY FIRST handoff of the game. Throw in one more tipped ball Hail Mary TD because, again, he couldn't move the ball on my defense, and you have a seven point victory by the seventh grader. I'm 0-3 now. This X-Box hates me.

This weekend was his fourth grade brother's birthday too. So I went over Sat afternoon to hang out. When I showed up, the birthday boy and Tom Tom were playing in the dirt out in front of the house with their play tractors. Their mom came out and told them that they'd have to get a bath before company came over. All three of us let out a loud, "Awwww, mom!" If any of you know me, you know why. If you don't, keep reading. I told Tom Tom not to worry about it, bathes are cool every now and then, and that I had actually taken one that day myself (though I won't say how long ago the last one was). Tom Tom came over to stand beside me and said that he wanted to live with me when he grew up. I told him he would love it when he got older. That when you get to be my age Tom Tom, you don't have to shower if you don't want, you don't have to get a haircut if you don't want, and you know what, you don't even have to wear underwear if you don't want to. Of course, this took the breath out of their sweet, little, ultra-conservative mom, and got a laugh from the 4th grade brother. But Tom Tom just looked at me with a puzzled look and asked, "Are you wearing underwear now Mr. Chris?" You know Tom Tom, I can't remember.

Last night was our regular "youth group" meeting. Though it's called a "youth" group, the youngest person in the room was 21 and the oldest was 45. It's more like a "single-and-old-enough-to-be-let-out-of-the-house-whenever-you-want" group. But anyway, he had a wonderful dinner prepared by the German lady in town and we sat around drinking tea and coffee and talking. I asked one of the Turkish girls to write down the words to Silent Night for me, in Turkish, so I could be memorizing it for our upcoming Christmas performance. Someone overheard us and the next thing you know, I was asked to sing Silent Night, in English, for everyone in the room. Again, anyone that knows me, knows I can't sing. I don't change notes, I just change volume to simulate raising and lowering my pitch. My philosophy is, if I can hold this one note through the whole song, then at some point, I will be singing the right one. That's better than trying to follow the tune up and down and never getting it right. Anyhow, I agreed, partly because I am stupid like that and partly because I have no pride left. But to my surprise, as I started, the same girl I had asked to write the words to the Turkish version joined in singing the English. She has a beautiful voice and we sang the whole first verse for the room, after which not only did we get a loud round of applause, but it sparked about an hours worth of impromptu accapella singing by different people around the room. Come to find out, not only does this girl know a lot more English than she admits to, she also did something with the local Catholic church at one time, helping with a Christmas program, and learned a lot of the Western Christmas hymns. It was the highlight of my singing career, so far.

And finally, check out this article. It sums up a feeling a lot of us have in us with our desire for a "third place." I totally believe what the author has to say, and after thinking about it, find that it also explains what may be the hardest part of living in a new place. There is no one here who knows my name. Half of the people here can't pronounce it correctly even if they know it (it's pronounced like Carese with a long E sound). There is no place where I can go where people know how I like my coffee, mainly because I don't know of a place where I can even go and order a cup of coffee! In general, there is nothing really familiar here, and I am not familiar to anyone or any place here. It's starting all over. Trying to build those relationships all over again, but doing it in a place where very few people speak your own language. Check it out, it's a good article, speaking truth, and well written. http://www.relevantmagazine.com/life_article.php?id=7327

New Look and Christmas Decorations

Well, as it is plain to see, I've been messing with the look of the blog. I'll probably keep playing with it, but this is as good as it is getting tonight.

But before I go to bed, I had to post these pictures. Stephen, one of the crazy little V kids, made me some Christmas decorations for my house, since he knew we wouldn't be putting up a tree here. I've got to find the perfect place to show these little guys off, but for now, they are sparkling on top of my CD case.

This post is brought to you by Gaylord Hotels.

I got ragged pretty hard today by someone who used to be my friend about Clemson's bowl destination. But you know what? There was nothing I can say! We were 7-1 and now we're 8-4. We COULD've and SHOULD've won the ACC. We wore all purple uniforms this year. We're going to the GAYLORD Hotels Music City Bowl. Thanks a lot Tommy, Jad, and Will, the three stooges of Clemson football. As you can tell, I'm still not over this football season.

But besides the continued mediocrity of Clemson football, everything else is going great. This past Saturday, Dec. 2nd, 2006, was my seventh birthday. On a Thursday afternoon, Dec. 2nd, 1999, at about 6:20 in the PM, I was driving down I-77 in my 1984 Chevy K-5 Blazer (THE Blazer), and just as I approached the Percival Rd. exit, I gave my life to Christ. It was, still is, and always will be, the greatest day in my life. It was not the happiest. I came to the Lord very stubbornly, and in desperation. I was convinced that Christ was God because of the lives I saw that He had changed around me, among my friends. But I had also seen people taking his name in vain, claiming to be Christians, and yet living however they pleased, with no joy or happiness to speak of. I wanted to avoid that same hypocrisy. I tried for months to make my life into a "good Christian life" before I finally gave up on that Dec. afternoon. I was stubborn to do it, but found that I couldn't, and that desperation, of knowing that I could never be good enough, was what made me give my life over to Christ, hoping that he would have mercy on me, and make my life something worth living.

Well, as always, he did. Looking back over the last seven years, I realize how much God has done for me, how far I have come, and how much further I have to go. I have grown in my obedience to Christ since then. I am not controlled by some of the same desires I had then. I have been given a peace of mind and a joy in my heart, that though I wish they were greater, were not even there before that day. I have grown in my knowledge of the truth. Then I had just guessed at and deduced what I thought was a good set of morals. Now I have the truth in my hands to read, and have committed some, though embarassingly little, to memory. It has become something I love to ponder and discuss. I have been given a ton of brothers and sisters that I would not have known otherwise, and the relationships are deeper and more meaningful than any I had before, even within my own biological family. The spiritual fathers I have had in Mike Hurd, Casey Ross, the B-Axe, and Schube have helped shape my life, and lead me through tough places and times. The spiritual brothers I have had in Dougy Doug, Gouge, Paul, Jamie, Big Al, Big Al, Robert Wood, Dinger, Mr. Anderson, Jacob, TL, Jeff, Ross, Denton and Cliver, Big Country, Mark Win, Trey, Goldberg, Bidwell, Hunter, Putney, Von Reitz, Toddles, Chris Tenny, David Brown, Doug Jett, Brannon, Johnny Moore, Adam, Steven, Jimmy Shaw, Special K, the Shark, the White Guy, Rodbey, and all the boys, have kept me sane, kept challenging me, and have stood shoulder to shoulder with me through the years. And the spiritual sisters, Cynthia (my spiritual mom really), Emily Ann, Megan, Becca, Holy Hennessey, Mandy, Haley, Mollie, Ingrid, Nichole, Kathleen, Allegra, Lane, Terri, Jessica, Mandi, Whitney, Guneş, and Layle, have shown tons of grace towards me and taught me to love people in ways that I would not have learned on my own. I apologize to anyone I forgot to mention, but the point is that God has given me so many dear friends that I can't count them all anymore! I have been blessed to travel this whole world preaching his name and seeing him at work in some of the darkest corners of this earth. At times it's been great, at times it has really stunk, but through it all, it's always been worth it. I could never repay God for the gift of salvation, and I don't think I've even covered all these other gifts that he has lavished on me. I thank my God for it all, and ask for seven more years that are as joy filled, challenging, and rewarding as the last seven. Show yourself to me, and to us all, Father God, as loving and as powerful today as you were seven years ago, and as you have been since before time began. Amen.

Father Abraham had many Fish!?

That's right, everybody knows that Father Abraham had many sons, but did you know he had many fish as well?

There is a city in eastern Turkey that I went to this past week that claims to be the home of these fish. The story goes that Abraham was in the city preaching against the pagan gods one day, when he seriously ticked off Nimrod, the local Assyrian king. Nimrod ordered a great fire to be built, and for Abraham to be thrown on top of it. They built the fire and seized Abraham and when they were ready to throw him on, the fire became water, and the hot coals turned to fish.



Possible? Sure. Probable? Nah. Why? Well, the first strike against it is that it isn't in my Bible. The second strike against it is that this same city also claims to be Abraham's birth place, which, according to my Bible, is Ur, way the heck down in Iraq. And the third strike, which may be the most damning in my opinion, is that all these sacred, holy, and miraculous fish (some of which live forever supposedly), all these fish of Abraham, are CARP. I don't think God would do such a great miracle and leave behind a bunch of algae eating mud suckers to prove it! And if it wasn't enough that they're carp, and who would eat carp anyways, we were told it was a sin to eat one of these fish. Oh well, guess I'll have to settle for another kebap.

But that's not all! Also on our journey we got to see the ancient walled city of Diyarbikir. I don't know of anything that's really of note about the city, except that it has a wall around the whole thing that was built before Christ (some estimates have it at 2000 BC), with only 4 entrances (which are still the only 4 ways into the city today), and a Roman bridge built in 742 AD that still has cars being driven over it. The bridge crosses the Tigris river, which is one of the four rivers that flowed out of Eden. So it was cool to see. Included are pictures of said wall, bridge, and river.





Also, my roommate is having a minor surgery tomorrow. He's got some sort of growth on his hand about the size of an acorn. The doctors say it's nothing to be worried about, but he wants it off (it looks a little goofy). If you could, pray that God will comfort him, since he seems a little bit worried.