no mas

Well... It's over. School is over at least. I suppose that I will discover new qualities more and more as I'm out of the shade that was Peru. In the same way that you're not cold till you get out of the pool, or you don't feel clean till you get out of the shower, I wont know what changed till I get back to the normal life. On that note, what is the normal life now? For me it certainly isn't Lodi, it was, but isn't. From what I can judge it would most likely be when ever I leave bible college and go to Biola. I think then will be my re-entry to the social norm. I'll be able to see what my peers have done, what they have not done, who they are, who they are not, what they like, what they hate. By then I should be out of the shower and dried off. I'll be shivering from the wind outside of the pool. I don't mean to say that this is the only indication of who I am, the comparison to my peers, but only that it will contrast it even more, maybe even high-light areas that I had no idea had changed. That is that.

If you hadn't figured it out, I liked my semester in Peru. It had it's bad times, but those are inevitable. I made good friends there. I learned. I loved. I'm glad its over. 

Next adventure: Lodi

sike

Next real adventure: Jerusalem for one more semester.

coming january 22  

I'm Retiring...

So if we follow the cute little metaphor that I came up with in my pre-Peru mind, I would say that I am now entering into retirement. Life is definitely on its latter half and Florida never looked so nice (though I've heard the central valley of California isn't bad either). I'm eating dinner earlier than I ever have in my life and my grandchildren are growing older, and consequently less adorable. My bones are feeble and every day it gets harder to get out of bed. But like all good baptist "Builders", I'm faithfully singing in the pews on bright sunny Sunday mornings about crossing the river Jordan into the promised land (an imperfect analogy with which Calvary Chapel disagrees). But as fun as growing old sounds, I would say that my life here is quite the opposite of wine tasting and golfing. My life here is accelerating instead of decelerating. It's like the Bucket list, almost. 

Thank God I still have my teeth.    

"Oh the glories the Lord has made, and the complications you could do without..."

     

                                

                                     

My delete button keeps falling off my computer, should I keep fixing it? or become a more careful and accurate typer? 

I'm sure this has happened to a number of you readers, but right now I'm just talking to you, singular, aren't I. The occurrence that I am talking about is completely a mental phenomenon, and I don't think it has anything to do with where one is. I'm sure it has happened to me in my home in Lodi, as well as my home here. I'm talking about when you wake up, and you have no idea where you are, and it takes you a second to put things together in your head. One time I slept in a luggage trailer in Santa Cruz, I woke up knowing exactly where I was. I wonder if this happening is because we forget where we are, or because we think we're somewhere else. I have found the whole realm of the sub-conscience, sleep, and dreams very fascinating. I would love to spend my whole life studying what goes on in our brains, except for the fact that by then end of my life I would have accomplished nothing. That is why I like to crochet. It is very rewarding. It enables one to hand-craft warm and cozy accessories to keep or to give away. But the sad part is that after the weather turns warm (I've been living in winter for the past 3 months), all my handicrafts are useless. Unless of course I sit in the freezer. Ever since I got my own room, I would open the windows in the winter so I could use more blankets. I would get in the freezer. 

Here is a schedule of the seasons for me.

summer hot (may-aug o8)

winter cold (aug-nov 08)

summer hot (nov-dec 08)

winter cold (dec-jan 08/09)

:::if i come back to peru:::

summer hot (feb-may 09) 

summer hot(may-aug 09) 

????????

where did spring and fall run off to? 

Strength in Weakness at Hotel Huanuco.

We left for the city of Huanuco on Tuesday night at 10:30. It was about a 10 hour bus ride. Now, this double decker bus we took was designed for sleeping. The trouble, I found, was the curvy mountain roads. The rocking was not soothing. The movie "One night with the King" was not soothing either. Both had an adverse affect on my stomach. But discomfort was the only deterrent from sleep. I think I woke up at about 6 in the morning. It was just getting light. I was staring out the bus window which is one my favorite things to do. We would pass through small mountain villages every so often. The thoughts that passed through my groggy, semi-conscious mind, were something like, "How long have these people lived here." "How much do they know of the outside world?" "How content are these people?" "How many buses go on the street every day?" "What are the biggest problems these people face?". My questions went unanswered. 

We got to Huanuco Wednesday morning. We all had the feeling that it was maybe mid-afternoon by 7:30 that morning. It's a strange experience that I've had more than once. With in  5 minutes of being in the fresh morning air of Huanuco I had my first three bug bites, a telling sign of the days to come. Our hostel was only a few blocks away so we formed a seemingly inconspicuous line of 40 people with bags and marched to the place. Upon arrival the hostel was beautiful. It had many hallways and all tile floors, and in turn was very slippery(perfect for high speed foot races). The classic decor of the place reminded me of my grandmothers house. The walls were adorned with posters of special tourist attractions and holiday celebrations. I found this odd because Huanuco was not at all pleasant for me. Not only did the hostel look classic, but its accommodations we quite classic as well. Hot water was not always available, but that was not a major issue. The shower heads seemed to spray in every direction except yours. I am fairly confident that the majority of americans would have trouble fitting into the bathrooms to begin with, considering the doors were perhaps half the width. The hostel provided all our meals, which were meager at best (except for lunch of course). To give you a better idea, we ate all of our breakfasts and dinners on tea saucers. There was however an abundant supply of small rolls. 

The streets of Huanuco were untrustworthy. The roads were dirty. The building were poor. Casinos plagued the town. I don't know why I felt so strongly about the town, but I did. It bothered me to be there. I don't think it was just the city either. I think I felt that our group together was obnoxious. Mostly in the hostel, we were just loud and it didn't seem to phase anyone. I guess I thought it would be different. 

(now for the positive)

We went to Huanuco with out many set plans. The local pastor just told us to be prepared with some skits, songs, and a 3 day vbs type program. So that's what we did. We had opportunities to go to local parks at night and witness to people. We performed some of our dramas, sang some songs, and just talked to the people and answered any questions they had. We did this three different nights and we got to talk to so many people about God and Christianity. We put on a 3 vbs in another local park. Through this we got to share the gospel with many people. All this time we were inviting people to the local church there. A group went into some elementary schools in the mornings and performed children's dramas. There was also a movie showed at the church on Saturday night that shared the gospel. The beauty of this trip was that we were not expecting miracles or huge revivals, we were simply obedient. We preached the gospel. We'll never know exactly what happened in Huanuco. 

I think what I liked most is that it wasn't fun. It wasn't glamourous. There were so many bugs and every time we went out we would get more and more bites. I didn't bring enough clothes so I ended up wearing dirty clothes most of the time. The food was less than satisfactory. The city was dirty (in the midst of all this, I realized that this is how the majority of the world lives, the american standard of living is rare, it was then when I realized how blessed I truly was) 

The people needed to know the truth. We told them. Some got it, others didn't. 

I was happy to return to Lima. I think we often say we understand what poverty is and how awful it is, but I doubt most knows what it actually feels like. I think I got a mild taste. It's uncomfortable. Something very foreign to us. 

I know God is good. 

Relative Realities of a Current Position.

I don't know if you have experienced this, but I have. You have a book to read for a class or something, so you get to reading. Readily you decide that laying down will be much more comfortable, so you follow you heart. Then five minutes into reading prostrate, you decide that sleeping will the most beneficial decision because you are really tired and you end up reading a total of 2 pages maybe. Then after a healthy 45 minute nap, a snack is in order followed by some recreation. Then, an hour and 15 minutes after the initial distraction, you return to reading. 

I've realized that if while reading, one will sit up, or read at a desk, this process will not occur. This is the problem of positions. My feelings are very convincing. I can read for five minutes laying down and be exhausted, or an hour sitting up and be drowsy. Feelings are dangerous. I wouldn't go so far to say that they lie to us, for feelings serve purposes. I submit that feelings exaggerate situations to a ridiculous degree on occasion. Example: arguments make feelings explode out of control. Friends and family will argue and say things that are terrible and inside the people involved can feel like they hate the other, or that the other hates them, but it is not the truth. Granted, the two are upset, but inside they inflate the situation to the extreme. Unfortunately this happens to me. Not usually in arguments, but I'll entertain an idea in my head, both good and bad, and make it more than it is, glorify it, essentially lie to myself about it. I can make up a whole story about it in my head. Last night I spent 20 minutes thinking about what my life would be like if I lost my left hand. 

This brings up the questions, what position am I in now? Are my feelings lying to me right now about something? If I change positions will I gain a greater insight to the truth or lose clarity? Obviously there is one overall reality that is this world. But every one has their relative reality. Life for me is incredibly different that life for a starving orphan who lives not one hour away. Likewise, life for a junior high girl is completely different than nun in a convent. Teachers and students are in the same room, but often hold completely different ideas about education. This is what I mean when I say, relative realities. Then we can introduce God on to the scene (or rather a realization of God for He never left, He has always been there, we are the ones who deny or recognize His presence), and He changes everything. Our perception of reality is SO relative. In the Bible, the self-righteous rich man giving to the temple from his excess, and the widow who gave from her sustenance, had completely different realities.

 I can't speak against this fact but merely point it out. All of this in order to give an insight on something that is so common yet so unrecognized. All of this to help us make decisions based not solely on our feelings or our own reality. All of this to say, I'm almost halfway done with the semester. 

-matthew (trying to fly his kite)

I'm Coming Home.

In just about every english class that I have ever taken, I have been informed that a great way to start a professional literary masterpiece is to utilize the "Attention getter!" (so eloquent). All this to say that I am not returning to Lodi. Things like bicycle rides, movie nights, and the Grape Festival (note capitalization), these memories are fantastic. But this is not reality. Reality is now Peru. It has been a month. I have travelled away from my new home for 4 days and returned. I have awoken with a sense of comfort in my room. I've taken one and a half classes and about to start the third (I skipped the last half of the second because I wasn't really enrolled). I'm learning more spanish and reaching out to more people. I'm coming home. Each and every day I am coming home more than the last. 

Apply today

It is incredible to think how many homes we have. Many temporal homes around the world at different times, then finally our last home. Perhaps we experience a small taste of our last home in each of our different houses. This is the second of my homes, so I do not have the experience of most. But there are always people who have more experience or are older. So. I think the thing that comes in a close second to experience is application. With no application experience is useless. Therefore, Apply today.

One night...

So... This one night the girls started wrestling. The guys decided to follow suit. I was listening to Johnny Cash sing old hymns (to which my grandparents probably listened) while crocheting a hat when I was invited to join the bout, twice by two different people. I decided to participate. It was enthralling, invigorating, and uniting. I was inspired by the whole night to write this prose. One may even call it poetry (though it is important to note that it is common to incorrectly label things, especially in our modern culture). Critics, Friends and Mothers, here is my work (and if my mother has told you to read this because it is supposedly the greatest work of mankind, which she often does, don't believe her, but read it none the less).

A Refinement

Two sides, one common goal, both focused uniformly and whole-heartedly against each other. It is sport that needs no accessory, no field, no protection. A struggle filled with antiquity, vitality, and simplicity. One against one, using every force they can summon from every muscle. This struggle is not ostentatious. It is slow and strong. There is no malice in this fight, though many associate the two because of the pride that drives weak men to use their strength to defend what their pride cannot forgive.  They strive to destroy men's bodies when they believe words of reason or insult will no longer satisfy their hunger for vengeance. This is not the nature of wrestling. This is the adulterated use that men most often see fit to use. There is no malice in this fight. There is something natural, something beautiful, something right about using all the muscles in the body to constrain another. The entire body working together, against an active force. Through all of this, comes the man, refined, victorious, perhaps broken, but none the less refined. Despite injuries, despite hardships, despite loss, there comes experience. If that experience is not forgotten, it can be the most valuable reward. So fight, struggle, experience.