The Last of Through Painted Deserts

I finished Through Painted Deserts weeks ago, but had to post some more excerpts from the end. I love Miller's "seize the day" mentality in this. I think too often we sit around waiting for life to happen to us - anticipating the next big event. Why? Like Miller says, life is now! Live it. Live every moment. Intentionally.

"You feel like life is always leading up to something, but it isn’t. I mean life is just life. It’s all happening right now, and we aren’t going to be any more complete a month from now than we are now. I only say this because I am trying to appreciate everything tonight. I will be leaving soon, and I want to feel this, really understand that it is happening because God breathed some spark into some mud that became us, and He did it for a reason, and I want to feel that reason, not some false explanation." --Donald Miller

At then end of the book (shall I insert a "spoiler alert" here?) Miller and his friend stand looking at these mountains in admiration, and Miller writes the following:

"It is a wonder that those exposed to such beauty forfeit the great questions in the face of this miraculous evidence. I think again about this small period of grace, and thank God for it, that if only for a season, I could feel the why of life, see it in the metaphor of light, in the endlessness of the cosmos, in the miracle of friendship."

I love the outdoors. I grew up camping, and I just can't escape the awesome beauty that one encounters in nature. It's when I'm hiking, when I'm surrounded by mountains, trees, and the permeating silence of nature that always seems to exude a deep, calming peace, that I feel closest to our God. And reading those words, I can just feel the power of that moment by the mountains. And it fills me with joy, peace, and wonder. What an awesome God we serve.

Miller calls his trip a "small period of grace," and it reminds me of a line from the movie Shakespeare in Love when the lead female character describes her romance with Shakespeare as "a stolen season." That's exactly how I felt while backpacking through Europe, and studying in Spain. Both lines are referring to an escape - an escape from routine and the constraints of responsibility, only to discover a resounding joy in new journey. And it makes me want to find that in every day; to remember that, in every day, there exists a new journey, and we have a faithful Savior who is with us every step of the way.

More from Miller and a Little from Lee

As I'm sitting here writing this post, listening to Amos Lee, it occurs to me that the lyrics to his song "Supply and Demand" are reminiscent of Miller's musings (from my last post).

The song goes something like this:

"Somethin' gotta give with the way I'm livin'
Seems I'm gettin' down everyday
The more I strive, the less I'm alive
And seems i'm gettin' further away...

"Baby i need a plan
Oh, to understand
That life ain't only supply and demand."


Here's more from Donald Miller's Through Painted Deserts. His words are so poignant, I just couldn't resist posting more excerpts.

"It occurs to me, as it sometimes does, that this day is over and will never be lived again, that we are only the sum of days, and when those are spent, we will not come back to this place, to this time to these people and these colors, and I wonder whether to be sad about this or to be happy to trust that these hours are meant for some kind of enjoyment, as a kind of blessing. And it feels, tonight, as if there is much to think about, there is much we have been given and much we have left behind." --Donald Miller

"And all of it reminds me that I am alive, that I am having some kind of experience, some kind of thing is happening to me the way it is happening to the crops, how for months they come into themselves under the soil, made from elements in the soil…" --Donald Miller

Excerpts from Miller

I'm an avid reader. I always have been. There's just something about good literature; I get lost in it.

That said, my most recent reading endeavor is entitled Through Painted Deserts by Donald Miller, the same author who wrote Blue Like Jazz. I am only 35 pages in and I am captivated. If you’ve never picked it up, you should. You absolutely should.

In short, the story is about a three-month road trip Miller takes with his friend, Paul, in an effort to experience life beyond routine, beyond 9-to-5's, beyond daily monotony and beyond constraints of time. It's a journey of awakening--awakening of the body, mind, soul and spirit. Miller is very real, very open, very honest, and he asks questions that none of us seem to want to slow down enough to ask ourselves.

Below are some of my favorite excerpts thus far...enjoy!

"We are shaped by our experiences. Our perception of joy, fear, pain, and beauty are sharpened or dulled by the way we rub against time. My senses have become dull and this trip is an effort to sharpen them." --Donald Miller

"Trips like ours are greener grass left unknown for fear of believing trite sayings, sayings that are sometimes true. But theirs is an existence under the weight and awareness of time, a place we are slowly escaping, a world growing fainter by the hour and the mile." --Donald Miller

"And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play. My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you, about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God. We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn’t it?
It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out.
I want to repeat one word for you:
Leave.
Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn’t it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don’t worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed." --Donald Miller

Marvels of Public Transit

As a user of public transit, I have to marvel at our system. Not so much at its efficiency or efficacy, but at the way it draws the surrounding community together.

Have you ever boarded the light rail, or a public bus, and conscientiously observed the other people coming and going? Not just briefly glanced up at them as they got on board…but really seen them, and what they carry on board with them—both tangible and intangible. For a moment, you are given a window into their world.

It is amazing to me how countless worlds collide in the same confined space every day. And at regularly scheduled intervals, no less.

• The light rail doors part in the middle and slide open. A Hispanic mother quietly shuffles her two boys from the platform into the railed car. They have their school bags, and she must have just picked them up after a day of work. The oldest carries a violin protected by a navy blue case with black detailing, and the youngest, who also wears glasses, tightly carries a miniature stuffed lion in one hand. The youngest also carries a backpack that appears far to large for such a small boy. The mother spots two open seats to their left, and mom sits down first, taking their things into her lap one by one. An older man gets up and offers the two seats toward the back of the rail car for her children. She takes the violin from her eldest son and tells him to take his brother to the seats and she shifts her position so she can see that they make it safely to their chairs, just a few feet away. The older brother, taking on the role of the protector, leads his brother up to the seats and they both sit down. The eldest puts his arm over his brother’s seat, understanding that he has been entrusted with great responsibility. As the rail car continues along its tracks, the mother stays seated sideways in her chair so she can keep her boys, her family, her loved ones, in sight. When two seats open behind her, she motions her boys down to sit closer to her. Her obedient boys are sensitive to her request, get up from their seats and brace themselves on any available railing as they walk through the moving car to her and sit down, youngest first, followed by the eldest. They are a family.

• The light rail doors part in the middle and slide open. A black man in his late 30’s walks his bike into the rail car. He is smiling. And he doesn’t stop. His smile is so pure—and there is deep, deep joy in it. It’s as though his smile starts within the depths of his soul, thus it does not falter for a moment. It’s his 42nd straight day of work, he announces to whomever may be listening on board. He is glad to be working. His cell phone rings and he answers it. He asks his friend if he is on his way to church. The man tells his friend that he’s headed to work, it’s his 42nd straight day of working. They chat for another minute or two, and then he hangs up. Putting away his phone, the man starts a conversation with another passenger, talking about what it means to be a fool. He quotes a verse from the Bible. Proverbs. Seated in a row of four chairs, he leans his bike up against himself and shuffles through his things looking for his Bible. He finds it, opens it to Proverbs and reads the passage to which he was referring. Smiling all the while. His stop is next, he says, he’s heading to work—it’s his 42nd day straight. You can hear the quick clicking of his bicycle gears as he walks his bike off the rail car. Smiling, no doubt.

There is sense of unity and togetherness manifested in public transportation that is unparalleled by any other public space. For that amount of time, however quick or lengthy it may be, you are confined by the same physical boundaries as the other passengers. And if anything happens while riding, you all experience it together, as a group.

And yet, people come and go without interacting with each other. There is no need to, really. They swipe their card and board the vehicle, each carrying their worlds on board with them. But for that moment, while they are moving, they share the same space, regardless of who they are, where they came from or where they are going. And when that moment slows to a stop, passengers exit, and that temporary sense of unity dissipates as riders leave the enclosed vehicle and step out, on their own, into the urban air.

Señora Says

We've created a new game in honor of all the funny, crazy, ridiculous things our señora says to us. It's called "Señora Says"...and I just wanted to spread the laughter.


Señora says...

"You're getting fat because you eat bread with dinner."
(NOT because she gives us two slices of bread for breakfast along with four cookies and fruit, two sandwiches for lunch, and meals the size of a Thanksgiving dinner).

(One day, we told her that we really like it when she makes a sandwich of just cheese for one of our two lunch sandwiches).
"Well I'm not going to give you a cheese sandwich every day because cheese makes you fat."

"You're sick because you leave the window open at night." But, Pepi, we haven't left the window open at night for more than a month. "Close the window at night and you won't get sick." Okay, Pepi?

One day, we're sitting in our room studying and Pepi walks in.
"OPEN THE WINDOW! It smells like FEET in here!"

One night at dinner, she points to the wheat bread she buys for her and her daughter and tells us, "This bread has medicine in it. The doctor told me to eat it. It doesn't taste good, but I have to eat it for my health." Translation: I buy you girls the fugly, cheap white bread for a reason. Don't touch my more expensive wheat bread.

We have two French girls staying with us and they don't speak much Spanish. When I asked how long they had been studying for, they said three years. To this, Pepi responded, "Three years!?! I thought you hadn't studied Spanish at all!!"

My roommate told Pepi that her stomach hurt. "It's because you don't blow your nose. All the congestion drains back into your stomach, so it hurts. You need to stop sniffling and blow your nose."

Sweet nothings of Spanish life

Elderly men always go out in the evening in business suits - that includes the slacks, the jacket, the button up shirt, belt, shoes, and tie. I love it.

Older women (ages 55+?) usually wear skirts when the leave the house. They get dressed up! Our señora has her jean skirt that she wears around the house, but if she goes out to grocery shop or anything, she changes into a loose, patterned skirt, combs her hair, and puts on some lipstick and perfume. No sweats, y'all.

Weddings. Every time there is a wedding, you know it. The women dress up in formal dresses of various, vibrant colors. It's like going to prom, except better. Oh, and they wear flowers in their hair.

Along a public walkway called Avenida Constitución, as the evening sets over the city, musicians of all types come out and play, setting their cases in front of them for donations. Saxophone, violin, accordion....

People of all ages run - sometimes spring - to the bus stop when they see it coming and they're not quite there.

Everyone carries around shopping bags. Not necessarily with new merchandise...there could be anything in it, but they choose to carry it in a fancy little bag from a stylish apparel store.

You know when a señora is on her way to the grocery store, because she pulls a tote on wheels for her groceries. It's almost like a carry-on bag, but the print is usually plaid.

Everyone gets two kisses when they meet - friends old and new.

PDA - Unhindered public displays of affection, primarily outside the universities and in the park.

Eating churros con chocolate at 6 am. Mmmm, breakfast.

Our señora's singing. She almost never stops...when she cooks, when she cleans...the only time she gives her voice a rest is when she sits down to read. Or when she listens to Elvis.

Walks. It's what the older Spanish community does for entertainment on the weekends. But you also see young couples...just walking.

Our señora's ridiculously loud snoring. It puts me right back at home with my dad. Snoring heard from down the hall. I can appreciate that =).

Fruterías - fruit stands filled with a wide array of delicious fruit of all shapes and sizes. Mmmm, getting hungry!

The stylish women. How to describe it...I think it's a mixture of the 70s, 80s, and modern-day styles with a bit of a punk twist. Try that on for size.
Trying not to sound too creepy, sometimes I just like to sit and watch them walk by...similar to Facebook stalking, no?

Weekend in Nerja

My roommate and I, along with two other girls from our study abroad group decided we wanted to go to Nerja.
Nerja is a beach town along the southern coast of Spain, and just outside the town are the Cuevas (or caves) de Nerja.
So, we woke up before the sun rose and went to the bus station where we met up with three of the guys from our group that were also making the trek to the coast.
And then we slept.
When we got into town, we found our hostel, and coincidentally we had booked the same hostel as the boys, so that was convenient. We changed into out suits and strolled along the streets toward the beach, stopping here and there to look in the shops along the way.
The beach was beautiful! Blue ocean, palm trees, tan bodies everywhere...some showing more body than we wanted to see.
We picked up some food, went down to the water and laid our towels in the sand. We went into the water, we napped, and I finished my fifth book since I arrived in Spain (can you say nerd?!).
After our tanning time on la playa, we went back to our quaint little hostel and got ready for dinner. The boys, just because they are so awesome, invited us onto the terrace at the top of the hostel to drink sangría that they had made themselves - consisting of brandy, fanta limón, and some kind of wine...
So we all sat up on the terrace and watched the sun set over the mountains. And we talked and LAUGHED! Laughed and laughed and laughed. And then it was dinner time!
We walked around to this restaurant we had seen, but decided it was too expensive. It was in the middle of this plaza overlooking the ocean, and some Spaniards were break-dancing to a boom box - so cool. So we watched for a bit, and then kept going because we were starving!
We ended up eating at this Italian restaurant called El Gato Negro (which means the Black cat) that had live flamenco out front. Unfortunately, we couldn't sit outside to see it because our group was too big. So we enjoyed the muffled music from the inside.
But the ambiance inside the restaurant was great, and we started with a bottle of wine, and then ordered pizzas and pastas with seafood. Delicious doesn't even begin to describe.
We bought gelato near the ocean, and the guys were still hungry so we continued on, wandering into a Mexican restaurant.
Some people go bar hopping. We go restaurant hopping.
Even though not everyone ate, we all got little Mexican hat pins with our bill - like the way you get fortune cookies at a Chinese restaurant.
And then, with full stomachs, we proceeded home.

The next morning, we got up early to catch the 8:30 bus to the caves. It took about 15 minutes to get there, the bus dropped us off, and then we read the sign posted on the door.
It didn't open until 10.
So we decide to explore...we find a playground and hang around like monkeys for awhile, and then we walk down towards the town nearby to see if there are any cafés open. Well, instead we found a buffet libre (all you can eat buffet) at a hotel just off the main road for less than 4 euros. Count us in!
By the time we got done eating, the caves were open, and we managed to just beat the crowds.

The cave we went into was so cool. The size of each chamber was just unbelievable! And we saw the biggest column of stalagmites/stalactites in the world. In this little beach town in southern Spain! It was great.
We headed back to Nerja, and back to our hostel, where we packed up and checked out. On to Málaga.

We were only in Málaga for a couple of hours, and had planned to see the Picasso museum, but when we saw that it was too far away to make it back in time for our bus, we sat down in some grass and just hung for a bit. And then we went for tapas.

Tapas. Tapas are amazing. They are almost like appetizers in the US. I think the tradition started as a way to prevent people from just getting drinks and feeling tipsy afterwards because they didn't eat beforehand. So when Spaniards go out in the evening, they get drinks and tapas...sometimes. And sometimes they just have a cerveza.

But we shared a bunch of tapas, and then passed out on the bus ride home.

It was a great weekend.