The River

Today I am struggling through how to explain the Holy Spirit to High school teens. We are in the middle of a study on faith, particularly how to develop a well rounded faith. By well rounded I don’t mean “acts good in public” but “takes into account every area of faith development”. There are six areas we are focusing on and together they form a “wheel” of faith with each aspect being a spoke in the wheel and therefore equally important. They are: Holy, reflective, compassionate, evangelistic, unified, and connected to Gods spirit. Each aspect (spoke) is needed to have a strong faith (wheel).

So here is what I am struggling with. How do you help 14-18 year old teens with limited life experience understand the work of the spirit when our churches are filled with millions of adults who don’t understand it? I have long held that the Churches of Christ suffer greatly from a lack of Holy Spirit Theology. At best we tend to totally ignore the Holy Spirit and have branded it as sensational, corruptible, and worse yet untrustworthy. So how do I take 200 years of Holy Spirit baggage and compress it into an easily understandable 30 minute bible class lesson? When I look into my youth ministry bag o tricks I see lots of communication tools. Power point. Check. Cool sound system. Check. Cool video discussion starters. Check. Donuts and trendy coffee in class. Check. The ability to communicate a living deity of the creator of the universe…..egggggg let me check on that one.

Somehow I don’t think when Jesus said, “Go into the world” he meant to add, “And lecture them into understanding me better”. This lesson cannot be given it must be experienced. Talking about the Holy Spirit is like trying to describe the feel of cool water to someone with no hands. Cleansing water must be felt, experienced, touched. When I worked at Wilderness Trek leading backpacking trips I learned this lesson first hand.

Every week I would not bath the while out on the trail. It’s not as bad as it sounds when you get used to it. Because it was a pain to bath in the backcountry and it was hard to take environmentally friendly shampoo and conditioner with me in my backpack I would just let the funk accumulate. By the end of the week I have to admit I would have quite a stench going. Each week I got more used to stinking and by the end of the summer I even stopped changing clothes regularly. (It really is quite amazing what you get used to when you stop caring)
One week I had a really hard time. Not just physically but spiritually, and emotionally. By the end of the week I was completely fried and ready to cry. To make matters worse I arrived back at base camp late and all the staff showers were taken and had a line waiting for them. Normally I would just go unpack my gear and wait but this was one of those really hot days Colorado gets about twice a year. Setting outside in the sun I suddenly got a whiff of myself. Out of desperation and complete exhausted I went down the river that ran through camp. Taking my shoes off I climbed in with my clothes on and lay down in the cool rushing water. Lying flat on my back with clear mountain water running over me I felt the week wash away from me. Dirt, frustration, anxiety and fear all seemed to wash downstream in clouds of hazy water leaving cool, clear, fresh water rippling over an overtaxed, unclean man. It was floating in the current that day that I first understood baptism. With my arms and legs stretched out, toes pointed downstream, only my nose stayed above the water.

For a few short minutes I floated.
I floated on the water.
I floated above rocks polished smooth by eons of water.
I floated on God’s promises.

Rev 7:17 For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

I’d say that is the Holy Spirit, wouldn’t you?

My fav pics

I have picked a few of my faviorate pictures from the past two weeks to share. Enjoy.

Home Safe

After 32 hours of traveling we arrived home safe last night around 6:30. We are very sleepy, tired, and sore. riding in a car on African roads for 3-4 hours a day has taken a toll on us. A special thanks to everyone who prayed for us.

He is a post I wrote a few days back. Enjoy

We finished our travels early today. Most days we have been spending 4-6 hours in the truck rattling down broken roads. Today we finished early so the others could get back to Nairobi. I used the extra time to relax in my room and do some reading. I was able to finish Joseph Conrad's “Heart of Darkness”. I must say I liked it a lot. I really like how he used the character of Marlow to offset the character of Mr. Kurtz.

If you have not read the book its about a riverboat captian named Marlow who is hired to go deep into Africa to a forgotten trading post to pick up the post headmaster who has gone crazy. If you are thinking this sounds a lot like Apocalypse Now, it's because the movie is a very loose adaptation of the book (and I mean really loose).

Kurtz is a man who has the world at his feet. He is talented, smart, gifted, and has a way with words that inspires people. Marlow on the other hand is an average guy who has to rely on his aunt to get him a job he is under-qualified for.

Kurtz starts out like all gifted people do, with big dreams. Somewhere along the line he goes out to a ivory trading post in the dark Congo of Africa to make a name for himself. While trying to change the world he meets some unknown aspect of his inner self. Out in the wilderness he cannot rely on his smooth tongue and numerous gifts. Over time his inability to survive on personality alone turns him insane.

The unsuspecting riverboat captian Marlow is soon sent in to get Kurtz from his post. Unlike Kurtz Marlow is an average guy with little known ambition but seems to survive enough to get him up the river in one piece. After a run in with Kurtz faithful army of tribal solders from a nearby village Marlow finds himself face to face with Kurtz who is deathly ill. While dying Kurtz manages to whisper his last words filled with hope, fear, loss and regret. “The horror, the horror” is all he says.

This unexpected climax to this story has me thinking a lot about a wasted life. Upon reflection I think one of my greatest fears is that my life will be lived in vain. To think that I would somehow miss my calling or that I will in some way waste any gifts given me sometimes keeps me up at night. Often in my ministry I find myself wondering if I am doing any good at all or if I am really even making a difference. A few chapters after Kurtz dies Marlow finds himself reflecting on the meaning of his words “the horror”. Was it a statement of the world to come or a statements of a life lived? Many of us in christian circles ask the same questions.

There is so much of my faith that confuses me. Issues of Gods calling, issues of belief, issues of understanding. Much of it is still confusing some 20 years after I was baptized. I think I liked the book because while at one time I identified with Kurtz (all full of ambition, talent, and a desire to change the world) I know identify with Marlow (just a simple guy doing the best he can with what he has). I used to think God wanted us to be the best at something. The older I get and the more time I spend on this dust ball the more I feel like maybe God just wants us to be. “Be still and know that I am God” Seems like I may have read that somewhere as well....

The Surreal life

Today we leave for home so for the next 30 hours or so I may not be able to post. Here is a post I wrote several days back.

Sometimes life seems surreal. Sometimes life slides into an unexpected reality and takes on some other worldly feel. In my life I experience this feeling most when I am doing something so out of the norm it almost seems imaginary. Take right now for instance. At the moment I am typing this it's 9:30 in the evening in Kisi Kenya. A small town in eastern Africa about 40 miles from lake Victoria which just happens to be the source of the Nile river. I am setting in a dingy and somewhat cliché African hotel hidden beneath netting listening to a local band play a set in the bar downstairs crowded with Friday night patrons. In addition to the live music I am listening to crickets, large diesel trucks passing by, people walking by on the street below and occasionally a tiny tink, tink, tink, noise as I type away on my mac.

The total surreal nature of the situation hit me earlier as i chugged water from my trusty Nalgene bottle shirtless in a room that is so small you cannot have your suitcase open and be out of bed at the same time. I really don't know what is more surreal. The fact that I am in the heart of East Africa or the fact that it seems so natural. A week ago coming home after work and playing with the boys seemed natural, now eating mystery meat from a roadside vendor and showering with an electrical outlet seems just as natural.

A good example of something surreal is something that happened to me today. Today while at one of the orphanages I noticed a lot of the kids staring at me. At first I felt funny, thinking to myself, “why are they starring at me?” Then I noticed something that started slowly but soon gained momentum. The kids would quietly walk up to me and ever so lightly, when I was not looking, touch my arms. The first few touches would be so light I would hardly notice. Then as they saw I did not mind they would rub there hands all over my arms. I finally asked what they where doing and almost could not believe the response. They had never touched a white person. They wanted to see what my skin felt like. Soon there would be dozens of little children touching my arms, rubbing my fingers, looking at the palms of my hands. At first it seemed so unnatural. Letting a bunch of strange kids rub their hands all over my arms. But after a awhile it didn't seem so unnatural. Before too long we began to laugh and talk about the difference of our skin colors. One brave boy asked me if my skin would look like his if I stayed in the sun a few weeks, before I could answer another asked if he came to America would his skin turn white after being out of the sun. We all had a big laugh.

When I think about the encounter it's surreal. But when I was standing under the African sun letting strange kids touch my skin it didn't seem so unnatural. I guess the unnatural becomes natural before long. You know, it's kinda like that when it comes to faith. Some parts of my faith seem so unnatural and out of place and others very surreal. Lately I have started to notice when I start being open to new things before long the unnatural becomes the natural.

Sometimes my faith is so weak and anemic and I get really down about it. I think to myself ,”come on man your suppose to be stronger than this”...so then I just jump out there and start trying new things. Before long I am doing things with my faith I would never have tried before and the unnatural becomes natural.

So here is my suggestion to you. Go out there and try something new. Eat mystery meat without washing your hands, let strange kids play with your arm hair, listen to bar music in questionable hotels in small African towns or do something even more radical. Talk to someone you have had a falling out with. Volunteer at your church in a ministry you have never been involved in, sign up to teach a children's class on wed night, visit elderly people in the hospital, or if you want to get super radical tell someone why your a Christian and invite them to church. Someone once said “a journey of a thousand miles starts with the first step”

So I guess the question is....

What's stopping you?

In Nairobi with WiFi

We found WiFi briefly here in Nairobi so I posted up a blog from
several days ago. Enjoy. I will post more in days to come.

A NEW POST!!!!!

I don't know where to start. I have been having a lot of trouble knowing what to write about. Experiences seem to be coming at me a million miles an hour. People and places, seem to be colliding with sights, sounds, and smells.

Today we went to the nicest orphanage yet. It was the pinnacle of what this work is about. Loving people who had a passion to help local children coming together to build top notch buildings, establish good programs and do it all with a mind towards self sustainability. There where some very well thought out systems in place like solar power lights, a rainwater collection system, nice paint and decorations and very spacious sleeping areas complete with effective misquote mets. It was a great experience. So far Africa has been wonderful but I have a confession to make...

I am a borderline germ-a-phobe. Just ask anyone who has traveled with me. I spend more time washing my hands than sleeping or eating combined. Now before you get the wrong idea I say borderline because it does not stop me from touching or eating things. I have been known to share a tent with my dog for nights on end, not shower for weeks while backpacking, and eat lots of scary things (did you read about the kabob??). I just sometimes worry about germs. It really is kinda weird and something I don't quite understand.

There are also a few things I also don't understand about africa. The first is the SCARY showers. When I say scary I am not referring to the type, shape, function, or even the cleanliness. I am talking about the possibility of being electrocuted while showering. You heard me right. So someone in there infinite genius decided it would be a good idea to heat water using electricity. No problem there right? Wrong. The “water heater” is a electric unit installed ON THE SHOWER HEAD!!!!! Remember electricity here is not 110v like home it's double at 240v (think clothes dryer). So there is a 240v outlet IN THE SHOWER with a hot water heater plugged into it installed on your shower head. WHAT?!?!?!?! Don't get me wrong I love a hot shower but not enough to literally die for.

The other thing I don't get is more serious. Germs. Bare with me here. I understand germs. I don't understand how so few people understand germs. In the countryside where we have been working there seems to be no understanding of how germs spread, what they do, or even that they cause some very common illness's. Today we where driving through a small village when we saw a painful reminder. Most small villages are lined with small shops and stalls selling everything from cell phones to raw goat. Today while driving through a village we noticed many of the shops where making caskets. This was the first I had seen in Kenya so we asked Francis about it.
“This area has a very high rate of AIDS cases and many people die, so they need lots of caskets” This started us on a conversation about AIDS.

While AIDS was very unknown in the beginning we have a great advantage now in knowing how to prevent it. Here there is much confusion about AIDS. Many people in the villages still do not know how it is spread, how you get it, or even that it's contagious. To make matters worse many of the rural areas consider sex a taboo topic so those who do know about AIDS are sometimes ridiculed for talking about it with others. Its 's not just AIDS that is misunderstood, it's germs as well. Each day as we set down to eat with the church and orphanage leaders we are presented with a bowl full of water to wash our hands with. One elderly Kenyan man even said the other day, “We always wash our hands clean before eating.” The only problem is....we never get soap. So far we have not gotten soap once. What good is that?

Africa confuses me so much. It is filled with smart, hard working, wonderful people yet is infected with so many curable problems. AIDS....we know a lot about that, Germs.....got a pretty good handle on that one as well, agriculture, got some smart people working on that, the list goes on and on. There are so many examples of things the west has knowledge and experience with that much of Africa is still left to figure out on it's own. With all this political talk as of late on national exports I got one for the list. Lets start exporting knowledge. It's the perfect export. It's readily available, easily applicable, contagious, and just downright makes sense. Let's start a grassroots campaign to package it up and send it out before Madison Ave. gets a hold of it and tries to sell it or worse yet washington gets a hold of it and we try to make it a talking point.

There are some downsides to exporting knowledge however. Our profit to exposure ratio will be all asque and our bottom line will be nonexistent but on the flip side people will stop dying.....I mean, if that's important.

I know what your thinking at this point. “Paul how we will package this knowledge?” Well, that's a mighty fine question and I have a plan. Bare with me this might be a little “out there”. Are you ready?

Germs

Lets pass knowledge like a germ from one person to another. Germs are the perfect package. They are contagious, self contained, easily transferred, quick to adapt, and do not discriminate.

Better yet lets be germs for Jesus. We can be all contagious and gooey, clinging on to everything we come in contact with, slowly infecting the world with our cause. Lets stop being so dormant and become living, mutating, cultures infecting this petry dish of a planet. We tried the whole Christianity through example experiment where we assumed people would see how we live and live like us because of our example. Lets try something new and try and change people through contact with them. Let's let our contact, our living breathing, serving contact infect others. I can see the t-shirts now....

Jesus is a germ

Well that's all I have time for today. Now where did I put that hand sanitizer?

A note from Jane

Paul called this morning and all is well. He wanted me to make a quick post to let all of you know that he has been journaling everyday but has not been able to post due to the internet connections he has run into. Thanks! I will keep all of you informed.
Also, If you are in Midland, there is a good write up on John Defore in the Religion section of the paper today!!!

Blessings!!!
Jane

The Rift Valley

I can't sleep. I have been laying in bed under the misquote netting listening to the sounds of the jungle for an hour now. I decided to give up and just write. It's 6am and the hotel seems to be coming alive with sound. We spent the night last night at the 'hotel kunste' in Nakirou. Nakirou is a med size town located in the banks of the great Lake Nakirou in the Rift valley. Lake Nakirou is the lake famous for the millions of pink flamingos that line it's banks. The rift valley is famous for being the 'cradle of life' where some say life began. It is also where archeologists have found the oldest fossil of human primates. We drove past the dig site yesterday and I desperately wanted to go inside and see the exhibit but we did not stop.



Yesterday was a very full day. After an early wake up call we where on the road by 8am. Once again we found ourself dodging traffic in Nairobi. The early morning rush hour proved to be quite a foe as it took us over and hour and a half to get through town. I was once again struck at how beautiful a town Nairobi is. The lush green forests of east Africa seem to collide into a town that has no doubt grown to big for it's own good.



After leaving town we drove up a steep mountain pass climbing from 5000 ft in Nairobi to over 8000 ft. At 8000ft we stopped at an overview that looked over one of the more beautiful vistas I have ever seen. Before us spread the rift valley and the beginning of time. From our vantage point we could see for hundreds of miles and below us 3,000 ft was the lush green valley floor. Distant mountains lined the far end of the valley and their highest reaches where covered with fog as the morning dew lifted. The valley floor was dotted with dozens of farm plots laid out in perfect squares. The whole picture was breathtaking and filled with the glory of God.



After our stop at the vista we drove further and stopped for a snack an hour later at a road side vendor. Feeling rather brave I got a mystery meat kabob and my favorite African drink, a bitter lemon 'krest' soda. Although I pride myself as being a really brave person eating at a roadside cafe in Kenya was kind nerve racking....so far so good. (update: 24 hours and so far no problems)



After the mystery meat kabob we headed to the orphanage located outside of Gilgil. The orphanage is a new one and has only been up and running since Sept. It is run by a man named Honey and his wife. Before you ask Honey is in fact his real name. He also has two twin 1 year old girls named, Honor and Honor. One pronounced Honer (how americans would say it) and the other Oner (like a Brit would say it...shout out to Freddie the crazy Brit! I miss ya girl). Names here are kinda funny. If you ask some Kenyans to spell their name three times they may spell it three different ways.



The orphanage is on a small plot of land roughly 120 yards long by 60 yards wide and has 5 buildings. The first building is a large dining hall, the second is the home of Honey and his family, the third is a outdoor covered kitchen and the last two are dormitories. Each dorm holds 30 children and is set up like a camp “cabin”. Each dorms has bunk beds covered with misquote netting, two windows, three skylights and one door in the middle. Upon arriving at the orphanage we where greeted with traditional African song and dance from the women. Soon we where ushered in to every building looking at all the new construction and complementing the workers on a fine build. After 30 minutes the older elementary and middle school age children came home for lunch and we where invited to eat with them. Lunch consisted of rice, kale (like our greens) flat bread, potatoes, and a root I was unfamiliar with. After eating with the children John addressed the group and we spent the rest of the time meeting with various board members, local church members, and orphanage workers.



While John and the others where meeting I sneaked out and took a look around the orphanage. My first thought when we got there was, “this place is terrible” but after looking around I realized it was not the facilities that where lacking but my expectations. Each orphanage is literally taking kids off the streets and giving them a safe place to live, food everyday, love and care, a church that supports then, health care, clothing, schooling, and bible teaching. The buildings are safe, dry, warm/cool, and filled with adults who love them. My american definition of what it would take to be safe and happy are slightly different. I expect comfort of the highest order, multiple free time activities like play-station or xbox, and junk food. I guess I expected camp.



After saying our goodbyes and leaving the orphanage I was struck by how different this trip is from my past one. Last time I came to africa I came looking for peace, friendship, and stress relief. This time I am much less stressed, fell more 'established' in my faith and am not as crazy as I once was. (Notice I did not say, 'not crazy' but not 'as' crazy). This trip is much less about me and much more about others. The kids, our church, the WBS supporters, the 1000 or so kids, and the countless brothers and sisters striving to make a difference by helping orphans in there own country thats who this is about. Last time I came to Africa to find who I was, this time God wants to show me who He is. I only pray that I have the eyes to see.



May all of us on this great rotating ball of dirt and water have the eyes to see. See what is on the other side of the globe, across the nation, down the street, down the hall, sitting next to us and most importantly living in us. God is alive and is speaking to every one of us every day. Are we really listening?

Nairobi

Today is our first day in Nairobi. We arrived last night to a pleasant evening. When we arrived at the airport I was immediately reminded of my 2 days spent at the airport in 2007. It almost felt like an old friend. After getting our visa's we got our luggage (all of it arrived!) and went out to meet Maureen and Francis. Our arrival was at 7:30 so by 9:00 we had the van loaded up and where heading to the WBS office (and the home of Maureen and Francis.

It was a very pleasant evening last night. About 60 deg with a slight breeze. Driving from the airport Brent and set in the back and joked about the road conditions. The roads where empty and I told him, “Just wait until tomorrow” When we arrived at the WBS office we found they had prepared a room with several beds and misquote nets. I wasted no time and went right to sleep. I slept for 9 hours without moving.

This morning we awoke to another great East Africa morning (about 60 and slightly overcast). Like most city houses the WBS office and house have a great garden and plot of land for cultivating small staple crops like corn, kale (similar to “greens”) and bananas. We had a great breakfast of bread, jam, and wonderful chi. Most chi tea here is made with fresh milk and real sugar so the taste us just heavenly. The only problem with it is that no matter how hard I try when I get home I can never make it the same.

Today we plan on driving around Nairobi getting some last minute supplies and hopefully find an internet cafe. I will post more soon....

So I never got to post this but I will tell you what we did anyway. After breakfast and walking around we went downtown to exchange money and get some food. We ate at a great place called the village market. It was near “embassy row” the section of town that has all of the international embassy houses. The market was a very nice semi trendy outdoor mall with a food court filled with international cusine. There was italian food, Tai food, pizza, and even a great bistro. The food court was filled with all kinds of chic rich foreign people. Walking around you could hear several languages and see delegates from every country.

After lunch we walked around and shopped. I found a sim card for my phone so I could call home and we wet to a large supermarket and got some supplies. After shopping we went downtown to get bibles and let Francis (the WBS worker) go by the court office to take care of business. Downtown was completely different than the uber-cool market. It was jam packed with too many people in to small of an area. Diesel smoke filled every corner of the air and the traffic was the worst I have ever been in.

Nairobi is a town of extremes where the super rich and the super poor co-exist in an atmosphere set in paradise. From the house of the us consulate to a slum of 700,000 people we saw it all. Overall I like Nairobi quite a bit. Even with all the people and all the pollution it is one of the more beautiful cities I have been to. I could almost see the ghost of Hemmingway setting in a downtown bar drinking a Tusker (the local beer) discussing hunting. The old world charm and new world problems seem to have collided into a international dilemma of conscienceness. Driving through the city you see signs of everything. Love and hate, peace and war, anger and joy, rich and poor, God and godless, all crammed together in the garden of eden. Parts of it I loved, parts I hated, all of it made me feel. I shall not forget Nairobi soon.

Internet is proving hard to come by so far. Right now I am in a really shady partof townand its getting dark. I gotta go....I will try to post as much as possible later.

The Quest

Today is a day filled with last minute details. As I pack, prepare, and get things ready to be gone I find my mind wandering to my family. Yesterday morning I sat and ate donuts with the boys at their daycare. As we ate I was struck with how fast they are growing up. No doubt they will grow up some while I am gone. The last time I went to africa Luke was to young to even realize I was gone. Now he is so big we set and have conversations (all be it conversations about the scary monkey he believes lives in his closet). It just makes me wonder how much I will miss while I am gone and almost makes me not want to go.

I believe it was Steinbeck who once wrote “While men are at home all they can dream about is adventure, while they are on an adventure all they can dream about is home.” There is a lot of truth to that. I guess in some way that describes the longing buried deep in our hearts for home. Not just the home we live or work in and the people we share that home with but the larger, deeper home waiting for us in the end. Some have called this the “God shaped hole” in us. A longing placed in our hearts for God and only able to be filled by God. It's what sends us on these adventures and quests even when our loved ones are left waiting on us.

It's while traveling that I see this most in my life. At home when I am buried in activity it is easy to put my life, faith and family on autopilot. While traveling God always seems to get my attention by placing a deep burden on my heart. It's taken me years to understand it, at first I misidentified it as what I call reverse stress (the void felt when stress is suddenly removed) but last time in Africa I realized it was not stress but my reconnecting with the quest.

Do you know all of us are on a quest? A golden adventure filled with modern day dragons, and white horses, castles, and yes even princes and maidens. So today I feel like I am not just packing for a trip but preparing for a quest. I am preparing to engage the quest.

Have you engaged the quest lately?

The ship builder

I guess I have some explaining to do as to why I have not posted in almost 2 years. The short answer is this is my travel blog, meant to keep people updated on my thoughts while traveling. The truth is it’s been a really tough two years. I guess I could blame my schedule or the hectic life that accompanies having a career and young children, but the truth lies deeper. The truth is I have not been posting because I was afraid of what I would post. The past two years have been harsh on my faith. Less than a month after my last Africa trip we moved to Texas to start a new ministry. Two days after we arrived my youngest son Luke grew gravely ill. Three months later I would be driving behind an ambulance that carried him across Ft. Worth begging God to let him live. Two weeks after that I would help a coworker burry his teenage son who was taken from him in an unforgettable moment of pain. At that point I had only been in this new ministry for 4 months.

But every dark night spent staring into the abyss is followed by a glorious morning for we follow a God that is “new every morning”. So why didn’t I write about it in my blog. Simple. I could not see clearly. A story comes to mind that might help you understand it.

There once was a small boy who lived in a village by the sea. Every day the young boy would go down to the docks to watch ships be built. Sometimes he would close his eyes and imagine where the ships would go. As the ships where prepared and loaded their cargo and riches his heart would dream of distant lands and far off shores. One day when the boy was standing on the dock watching the ship builders an old man came and stood next to him.

“What are you doing here lad?” he asked

“Watching the shipbuilders prepare for far off lands” the boy replied

“A boy your age should not be watching but doing” The man replied
As the boy looked down at his feet he almost cried and said “How can I if no one will teach me?”

“I will teach you” said the man with great patience.

Looking at him the boys heart leapt for the old man was a master craftmen. Immediately they started working. The hours turned into days, the days, weeks, and the week, months. Sometimes the boy would work long into the night building a glorious ship, ready to sail the roughest seas and weather the wildest storms. Often the old man and the boy would take a break under an old tree and talk about ships. It seemed no aspect of sailing or ship building had slipped by the old man and he taught the boy much. Over time the young boy turned into a young man as the long hours in the shipyard honed his muscles and strengthened his back.

One day the old man approached the young man with a quiet and determined look. The old man explained to the him that it was time to finish the inside of the ship. The young man not knowing why the old man was sad asked why this was such a big deal.

“Well, you see the inside of the ship must be finished by you. You will have to crawl down below the deck and do the work by yourself. I will not be able to help you. “

Looking down at his feet the young man was sad, for he had grown to deeply love spending time with the old craftsman.

“Who will guide me?” he asked in a small voice.

“I will” replied the old man

“How will you guide me if you are not below with me?”

“I will be with you. I will be with you because I have taught you. Every skill I taught you, every tool I gave you, every experience I gave you will be with you.”

“Where will you be?” asked the young man

“I will be hear finishing the rest of the boat and when you finish your work, we will join up again”

It was with a heavy heart that the young man took his tools below deck. At first he could not see anything as his eyes adjusted to the light. The dark hull cut him off from the sights and sounds of the shipbuilders around him. Several times he could not even hear the master shipbuilder above him working. The hours turned into days the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. Sometimes the darkness would be so overwhelming the young man would panic and call out for the shipbuilder. Every time he called the shipbuilder would call back to the young man assuring him he had not left. Finally after working in the dark for months the young man finished his work and climbed out of the hull a new man. When he got on deck he could not believe his eyes. His simple, small ship was now a beautiful strong boat complete with all the necessary tools to sail into distant shores and conquer new lands. The old man had used all of his might to transform the ship into something the new man could never build. The new man was overwhelmed when he looked up to the wheel and saw the old man standing proudly. Running up to the old man the new man shouted with excitement.

“What happened?”

“While you were doing the important work down below I finished the boat” replied the old man proudly

“But why did you not wait for me” the new man asked with confusion “While I could not have built anything this great I could have helped” the new man said

Looking at the new man with love in his eyes the old craftsman reached out and touched his shoulder. After months of pain the new man blurted out…”and why did you leave me alone? It was so dark in the hull of the ship”

Taking him by the chin the old man looked deep into the new mans eyes.
“You had to build what is unseen by yourself so I could build what is seen. You see I can do things with my tools that you cannot. While you where building that which lies below I was building that which lies above.”

Instantly the new man knew he was right. The work below was hard and dark, but necessary. As much as the new man wanted to help finish the ship he knew that the glorious ship could only be built by the master craftsman. Looking up he noticed for the first time that they were not in the shipyards any more but where instead sailing on the most glorious blue sea. Looking to the old man with confusion in his eyes the boy began to weep. “Thank you” he muttered between the tears “thank you”

Sorry I have not been posting to my blog. I have been below deck doing some work.