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.