Continent: Divided

Hey friends, its been a minute since I’ve updated you all but I’ve been busy.  In fact, I’m still a bit busy.  But I wanted to give you a quick update on some things I’ve learned in the last week.  So, here you go:

• Skiing is as fun as you may have heard it is and I’m really good at it – at least for someone who has only been twice
• Christian hippies still exist in America,  they live in Manitou Springs, CO
• Tricia Chan can sing
• Alamosa, CO has a thriving music scene, sort of
• Motor oil can get dirty in three weeks… if you drive five thousand miles in that time
• Sonic is not a great restaurant for a vegaterian
• It is dusty in northern Arizona and windy, VERY windy.  This is a terribly combination and God help you if you ever have to drive through there
• The Grand Canyon is Grand, with a capital G
• Santa Fe has a city ordinance against overnight parking
• Not all security guards are jerks.  Some are, but others will inform you of the above ordinance then give you directions to the nearest place where overnight parking is allowed – thanks man!

That’s all I’ve got for now, I’ll try to inform you when more life lessons are learned.  I have crossed the continental divide for the final time, the rest of my travels will flow towards the Atlantic.

Neil

On Terror

At some point in my high school career (Junior year maybe?) I decided it would be great fun to run for student office.  So I did.  Filled out the paperwork, got the signatures, took care of all the silly details you go through to get into adolescent politics.  To this day I am baffled as to why I thought this was a good idea.  I had very little interest in planning pep rallies, organizing dances and whatever else it is that you’re supposed to do.  To be honest, I probably just wanted the attention.  The thing that really amazes me is that I went in knowing full well I’d have to give a speech in front of the class, a few hundred people.  This thing terrified me.  I mean sweaty palms, can’t sleep, (and for reasons I’ll never understand) have to pee every 15 minutes, kind of terror.

So I get up there and give this speech – not really sure what the content was but I know it involved a large sketch pad with stick figures I’d drawn the night before with a black Sharpie – and when I’m finished I cannot stop laughing.  It wasn’t nervous laughter and it wasn’t because there was something hilarious going on, though this guy Sanjay gave a pretty good speech about how he drove a Pinto and could burst into a ball of flames at any moment.  This was something different.  This was that sense of joy that comes from standing on a cliff, where the feeling of terror is matched only by the desire to go higher, get closer to the edge.

I had another, more explicit example of this the other day in Zion National Park.  There is this trail to a place called Angel’s Landing that takes you up the west rim of Zion canyon and then onto this rock fin that juts out into the canyon.  Now the first part of the hike is great.  Its really a nice little hike, lots of uphill, switchbacks with views back onto the canyon but the fin… oh the fin is where its at.  So you see this fin and you think to yourself, yeah I guess its pretty high, and a little narrow but it can’t be that bad.  Its not till you get going that you realize you’re standing on this four-foot wide slice of rock with thousand foot drop-offs to either side and you can’t help but wonder what its like to fall that far.  I’ve put up some pictures but you really can’t get a sense of it until you’re up there.

This is what I love about trips like this one, and its what I love about the summer program I work for – there are endless opportunities to go out on the “fin” everyday.  But its also one of the things that I love about Christianity.  Its not that Jesus says, “go ye, therefore, and stand in dangerously high places, defy death and give public speeches” but I can’t help and think that if we take his life, death and message seriously we will find that we are called to the cliffs.  They may be actual or emotional or relational but one thing is for sure, they will be terrifying.  So stand on the edge and be amazed as the terror of falling is mingled with the desire to climb higher.  And laugh.

P.S.  No there are not any pictures.  I couldn’t figure out how to get them uploaded and then I couldn’t get them on with out overlapping each other and I ran out of patience.  Another reason blogs are stupid.  They’re on Facebook if you’d like to see them  or I can email them to you.

Five Things

I’ve been coming down pretty hard on Southern California the last few days so here are five things I like.

1. Orange Trees
2. Pollution-Enhanced Sunsets (how redemptive)
3. Hospitality (That means you Starr Road gentlemen – you can check me for cancer anytime, except Jeremy because I’m pretty sure you’re not a real doctor)
4. Crashing other families reunions
5. ?

So four was all I could come up with, at least I’m trying.

We Will See Miracles… or at Least Some Minor Good Fortune

One of the best movies I have ever seen is the Hebrew film Ushpizin.  It tells the story of an extremely poor Jewish couple that are trying to scrape together enough money to pay their bills and prepare for a religious holiday.  At one point the two are talking about their situation and Moshe, the husband, tells his wife that the Lord will provide, they simply haven’t prayed enough.  His wife, Mali, nods in agreement and kicks him out of the house to go pray.  On the way out the door Moshe turns to his wife and says, “we will see miracles.”

And they do.  At least sort of.  Someone from a charity randomly slips $1000 under Moshe’s door, a gift for the holiday which need not repaid, and Moshe and Mali are in business.  Now, in the film it is obvious that this is a miracle and it is apparent that Moshe and Mali see it as such.  I mean, they literally dance for joy and Moshe goes running around like a madman.  It is crazy.

The first few times I saw the movie I was right there with them, I could totally see the miracle in what happened.  But after a few more viewings, the effect diminished, I began to see this less as miracle and more as a stroke of good fortune.  The entire situation can be explained so readily, it was random yes, but miraculous?

What got me thinking about this was that yesterday I had to get my clutch replaced.  While I was driving through Grants Pass, Oregon I noticed some pretty significant slippage in my high gears but I figured I’d get it looked at when I got down to the Los Angeles area.  Luckily I made it that far.  Coming into LA was a bit stressful, I couldn’t get any grip going uphill so I’d have bomb down hills in hopes of riding out the momentum on the upside.  Then I got stuck in traffic and I could not keep my truck in gear to save my life.  I had visions of a center lane breakdown running through my head, it was a stressful couple of hours (though it brought me and the truck closer together) but I made it to Loma Linda.

The next day I did some calling around and was able to get in touch with Clint, a mechanic at the Tustin Dodge dealership whose former pastor is my friend Brian’s current pastor.  If you ever need work done in southern California, I highly recommend Clint.  He got me in right away, made sure I got a fair price on the parts, and even brought his labor rate down a bit.  Clint definitely saved me some money, and for that I am extremely grateful, but more than that he gave me a place to turn in a pretty awful situation.  I know nothing about cars or how much repairs should cost and I totally could have got taken on this repair but with Clint I know I can trust his work and he gave me a rate.  On top of that he’s just a really nice guy.

So yesterday was a pretty crappy day.  I threw away a bunch of money and spent most of the day in a service station waiting area watching middle aged men in cloth shorts take naps.  But it was also a really good day.  For the little strokes of good fortune that got me in touch with Clint to work out, well maybe that’s all that it was, good fortune.  But if you believe in a God that not only cares for His creation but is involved in it, miracle may not be overstatement.  Maybe we too will see miracles.

p.s.  Why do people choose to live in southern California?  Honestly, why would anyone choose to surround themselves with so many strip mall?  And how in the world can you stand the traffic?  Either you’re an incredibly relaxed bunch or you do smoke as much weed as the rest of the world thinks you do.  I understand you love the sun but how can it be worth it?  Move to Arizona or something because this is ridiculous.

Gas Pumps and Packaged Oatmeal

I really hate blogs.  I mean I REALLY hate them – with a passion usually reserved for Christian pop music and internet shorthand (idk, omg and, worst of all, lol).  The thing about blogs that I hate, aside from their name, is the sheer number of them.  Everyone has a blog, some of them I’m sure are wonderful but many of them simply should not exist.  Case in point, the blog I wrote 5 years ago while taking a three month trip through Europe, that one should not have existed.  Since that time I have made it my silent protest to neither read, nor write a blog – yet my protest goes unnoticed and the “blogosphere” continues to expand.

So why, you ask, am I now back on the interwebs?  Well, blame yourself.  As you may know, yesterday morning I left Seattle in my 1986 Toyota Pickup truck (a gracious donation from my Grandfather) to return to Massachusetts via California, Colorado, Texas, Illinois, etc.  For reasons that are extremely foreign to me a number of you, the general public, have expressed an interest in hearing about my travels along the way.  I have decided to oblige you.  Here is my trip so far:

• Drive
• Coffee with Jamie Johnson
• Drive
• Gas/Bathroom
• Drive
• Gas/Bathroom/setup bed
• Sleep in my truck in The Canyon Church parking lot in Lakehead, CA
• Make instant oatmeal on my tailgate
• Drive
• Coffee/Clean my bowl in coffee shop sink
• Blog

Pretty sweet, huh?  See, after doing a few trips like this I’ve come to realize that there really isn’t anything spectacular about them, in fact they can be quite boring.  Yet there is something about them that is so necessary.  Why else would you all be so interested in hearing about this trip?  Why are books like “Into the Wild” and Donald Miller’s journey book (whatever its called) so in demand?  They just need to be done, kind of like pumping gas.

Yesterday while I was driving through Oregon I stopped at the filling station and hopped out of the car and this woman in coveralls came up to me and just stood there.  I was confused.  I had forgotten that in Oregon it is actually criminal to pump your own gas, I think they can actually hang you for it.  Now, I know many people who love going to Oregon for this very reason.  These are not lazy or entitled people, they just see gas pumping as a silly inconvenience and if someone else can do it for them well, great.

I, however, cannot stand having my gas pumped for me.   I have no idea why I hate it, its not like I’m terrified they’re going to give me the wrong gas or blow up my car or something.  In fact, they’re probably much more competent gas pumpers than I am, I mean they’re professionals.  And its not that I feel like I’m being cheated, gas pumping isn’t really a great joy for me – its usually cold and it makes my hand stink – but I still have to do it.

It is my conviction that gas pumping is much like traveling – some people have to do it and others are content to let someone else do it.  One is not necessarily better than the other its just how it is.  I pump my own gas, for those of you don’t maybe this travelogue will provide you with enough exposure to the gas pumping world to be content.  Maybe it will inspire you to get out and pump your own gas.  Maybe it won’t.  All I know is I’ve got to keep pumping.

To my fellow gas pumpers…well, I’ll see you out there.

Neil

p.s. I’m in Sacramento and will be in LA tonight, for those who are tracking.