Grosvenor Arch

Today we drove over 300 miles through southern Utah and northern Arizona, about 50 miles of it on a dirt road that was severely rutted and would have been almost impassable for a regular car (we had an SUV).

About 30 miles from Tropic and about 20 miles along this back road is Grosvenor Arch (pronounced "Grovner"), a magnificent double arch that is remotely located, to say the least. After we left the Arch, we traveled another 30 miles through Cottonwood Canyon all the way to Rt. 89, which traverses the southern part of Utah between Page, Arizona and Kanab, Utah.

After leaving Page, we ventured south toward Flagstaff, but turned onto Alt. 89 instead and headed for Jacob Lake, which is where you venture to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. The North Rim is closed now, so we headed on, eventually landing in Mosquite, Nevada, where we are spending the night. Casinos all around--and they are PACKED!

I can't believe the money that is being literally thrown around in these casinos. Poker, machines, blackjack, you name it. And people of all ages, some in wheelchairs, some on oxygen, some dressed up and others dressed beyond casually. But ... no recession here. The first hotel/casino we tried to find a room in had none left--and it has seven buildings of rooms!

Tomorrow we head to Las Vegas, Hoover Dam and then get ready to fly back home on Friday.

Roots

My 84 year-old lifeguard, Clella, was born and spent the first 14 years of her life in the small town of Tropic, Utah, which is nestled in the valley beneath Bryce Canyon.

Jan and I brought Clella back to Tropic last year about this time, joining Clella in a walk down Memory Lane. We visited her childhood home and the barn where Clella dreamed of becoming a Zigfield Follies dancer.

As you can see in the photo here, Clella has a lot of spunk. This shot was taken along I-15, which will get you from Las Vegas to southern Utah.

We visited much of the same ground today, but added a trip to the "East Valley," which is "out" from Tropic, which is in Bryce Valley. In the East Valley we finally found Clells's grandfather's house, along with the grave of her great-grandfather. Both of these men were from Clella's mother's side. Clella's mother died giving birth to her tenth child, who also died that day.


Yesterday, we were at Zion National Park. Spectacular views of the tallest sandstone cliffs in the U.S. This morning we did an abbreviated tour of Bryce Canyon, doing it almost no justice, but it was enough to at least get a tasted. We spent much more time in Bryce last year.

Tomorrow we head to Grosvenor Arch and Kodachrome Basin, along with Cottonwood Canyon. After that we will go to Page, Arizona and the Glen Canyon Dam, which forms the head of Lake Powell. Then we will skirt the Vermillion Cliffs and eventually end up in Mosquite, Nevada. It will be a long day, but the scenery will be spectacular.

Been a While

It's been a while since I've posted anything. It's not that nothing has happened, but that I've simply been remiss. Spring ended, summer came and went, fall happened and now winter is exerting its grip with predictable tenacity.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, one of my favorite days of the year. Light in darkness. The anticipation I still feel, much like a kid, of Christmas. Thank you, Lord, for the freshness of the Incarnation ... still.

On Christmas Day we leave for Germany for a week. Back on New Year's Day, having spent New Year's Eve in Munich, home of the Hofbrauhaus. Germany is also the home to many of the Christmas traditions that surround the holiday, both secular and religious, especially in Bavaria (southern Germany).

Jan, Jordan, Dylan and Jordan's boyfriend, Matt, are making the trip. It'll be good.

Odyssey to Tropic, Day One

We left Bremen yesterday morning at 8:30 a.m. to begin our trip to Tropic, Utah and beyond, landing first in Phoenix, Arizona, via Southwest Airlines from Chicago Midway.

When we got to the gate in Phoenix, the flight attendant got on the intercom and said, "Get out!" Everyone laughed.

We then proceeded to my mother's house in Sun City West, where we got the car (Buick Regal, 2003, with 10, 148 miles), found a great hotel (Holiday Inn Express), ate at Carraba's and then proceeded to adjust to the three hour time difference.

Today, Monday, April 27, we are going to Jerome (via Wickenburg and Prescott) where we will enjoy a good-old hippy town. Then on to Sedona, the home of the rich and the wacky. From Sedona we head to Flagstaff, from which most people head to the south rim of the Grand Canyon. We will be skirting the Grand Canyon and head north to Page, where the Glen Canyon Dam is located.

It will be a day full of great sights and experiences.

The high temperatures will be in the 70s. Mornings start out in the 40s and 50s (except in Tropic, Utah, Clella's hometown, where it was 19 this morning!). Sunny, always sunny.

Abram Went

Perhaps the event that changed the course of history and how we understand ourselves can be summed up with these simple words, "Abram went."

Abram was a Sumerian (read Chaldean) businessman who was quite settled and prosperous. Sumeria is the land of the Fertile Crescent and home, at that time, to the Hanging Gardens of Babylon (obviously in Babylon).

God summoned Abram to leave it all and go where The Lord would direct him.

These are the words from Genesis:

The Lord had said to Abram, "Leave your country, your people and your father's household and go to the land I will show you."--Genesis 12:1 (NIV)

There was a substantial promise attached to this directive, but notice the sparsity of language used by The Lord in His address to Abram.

"Leave."

"Go."

"I will show you."

No detailed directions. No itinerary.

Here is the promise:
"I will make you into a great nation
and I will bless you;
I will make your name great,
and you will be a blessing.
[3] I will bless those who bless you,
and whoever curses you I will curse;
and all peoples on earth
will be blessed through you."
--Genesis 12:2-3 (NIV)


But still, not a lot to go on.

Speaking of Lot; he was Abram's brother. We probably know more about Lot's wife and her "salty" reputation that we do of Lot. (It's in Genesis, too.)

Abram's response to The Voice: "Abram went ..."--Genesis 12:4

Up until Abram such a thing had not happened.

He went.

The Voice said, "Go," and Abram went.

Later, Abram is described as a "friend" of God and as a "righteous" man.

He gets my vote on both, because his "going" changed the course of human history.

First, he was the first to respond to The Voice.

Second, just the fact that he went, with nothing more to go on than The Voice.

Others responded to the voice in the centuries that followed:

Moses.

Elijah.

The prophets.

And then, after God had not spoken for a long time:

Mary.

And some simple fishermen, two pairs of brothers named Simon and Andrews, along with James and John.

As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men." At once they left their nets and followed him. When he had gone a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John in a boat, preparing their nets. Without delay he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him. --Mark 1:16-20 (NIV)

Leaving everything to go where The Voice leads.

Leaving everything to follow Jesus the Word.

"Abram went."

That may be a good epithet for a tombstone, mine even: "Jim went."

Oh, that it may be truer and truer.

Nova ex veteris

Nova ex veteris.

The phrase, from Latin, means, "The new must be born out of the old."

Which could mean that that which has been is the seedbed for that which is to come. Makes sense.

But what if we use the words "new" and "old" to refer to people? These are words that have always meant a lot to me, especially when referring to human-types.

So then would nova ex veteris come to mean that new things (ideas, ways, etc.) would be born out of old people? In other words, innovations would come from the older crowd.

Gray hair would be a sign of creativity.

Wrinkles would be the crevasses from which the vanguard would spring.

A limp would not mean a wound or damage. Instead, a limp would be the opportunity for a new way of traversing the landscape, always in search of novelty.

I don't think nova ex veteris means that the old and the new are separated from each other, but that they are organically linked in such a way as to be like ground and seed, the one nourishing the other so that new growth might appear and flourish.

Isaiah wrote, in reference to God's continuous rescuing and restoration: For I am about to do a brand-new thing. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness for my people to come home. I will create rivers for them in the desert!--Isaiah 43:19 (NLT)

Rivers in the desert.

Rivers in the desert of despair faced by the recently jobless.

Rivers in the desert of anxiety of the young among us, who wonder both how we got into this mess and what life's got in store for them as they turn toward their futures.

Rivers in the desert of loneliness and isolation that cripples so many and leaves them despondent.

Rivers in the desert of shame, a land inhabited by too many, who can't even imagine that God wants to wash away the pain and the shame and replace it with His stamp of approval.

Rivers in the desert of damaged self-worth, where too many wonder if their lives have any significance at all, who scream into the wasteland, "Do I matter?"

Nova ex veteris.

Maybe the old needs to be put to death in order for the new to arise (and I'm not talking eugenics here--look it up).

Jesus told Nicodemus that we needed to be born anew in order to enter and experience the Life of the Spirit, the Kingdom of God.

Nova ex veteris.

The new must be born out of the old.

Lacunae

"The Epic of Gilgamesh" is an ancient Sumerian (read Mesopotamian, which is in the Fertile Crescent, which is defined in large part by the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers, which are in present-day Iraq) text that features, among other things, a story about a Great Flood that is very similar to the biblical story of Noah.

The Gilgamesh story was found by archaeologists who unearthed shards (pieces) of clay tablets which had writing on them. No entire, intact tablets have been found. Only pieces (shards, if you will).

Unfortunately, because only shards have been found, there are "holes" in "The Epic of Gilgamesh," sections of which scholars can only guess. The story, at that point might go one way or it might go another. No one is sure because of the gaps.

These gaps, in this context, are called lacunae. A single gap is a lacuna.

I did not know this word until yesterday, when I looked it up. I am reading a book by a scholar named Thomas Cahill about the Jews, their heritage, and the legacy they have given to all of us. Cahill used the word lacunae to describe the gaps in the ancient Gilgamesh story.

It got me to thinking about gaps (and I don't mean clothing stores).

There are gaps in my story, sections that are not filled in very well, where the meaning or significance of that part of the story can only be guessed at. Hidden, mysteriously tucked away in the recesses of the mind of God, are sections of my life that are now only really known to the Lord because they are lost to my memory and to the memories of those who were also a part of that leg of the journey.

But I find comfort that God is Lord of the Lacunae. He is God of the Gaps.

And, again, I don't mean clothing stores.

Footprints (Pawprints, really)

You may have run across the poem, "Footprints in the Sand," which describes Jesus' faithful support and "favor" toward each one of us. This isn't about that.

This post is about something that has been on my mind a lot over the past week.

When our plane from Miami landed in Chicago last Tuesday, on the final leg of our journey back from a week in the Dominican Republic, my phone chirped as soon as I turned it on. I had a message from someone whose number I did not recognize.

The voicemail was from the Bremen Police Department, asking if I could give them a call back. I did--immediately. The officer who answered told me there had been an accidental shooting involving a high school student. Not good news.

The officer could not, offer any additional information because I was not able to be "on site" anytime soon, nor did I ask him to. It's way too easy for the rumor mill to crank up.

Sad to say, but a student was killed in an accidental shooting that took place in a house only a few hundred yards from our house.

I was in the school the next morning, praying for teachers and students as they faced another tragic accident and death to a Bremen student. I spoke with many students and even had the chance to speak and pray at an assembly attended by the entire student body and faculty.

The entire event dredged up memories of past accidents, which have been far too frequent for a stretch of time that is much too long.

But ... here's what's been on my mind--an image really--the image that is burned into my mind and I cannot shake it.

When Chad Beeson was killed (one of the Three Cs), I presided over his funeral. A sad time. A sad day. But the power of God was in the air.

I rode in the hearse that held Chad's body as we made our way from the church (Community Gospel) to the Police Station (where the "final call" was broadcast) and finally to the cemetery. It was a front row seat to some powerful events.

We rode along the south side of the school block on our way to the Police Station. As you may know, that side of the block has paw prints painted on the road, Bremen Lions paws, that have the numbers of the players on the football team painted on them, as well as the names of the coaches and managers.

Chad, Corey and Casey were all killed in an automobile accident while on the way back to Bremen after a football sectional playoff game. They kept stats for the coaches and team. Every week. Home and away.

When the hearse turned the corner from Bowen Avenue onto Grant Street there, standing on the paw print that had their number, were members of the Bremen football team, standing silently in honor of Chad, giving thanks in their own way for all of his dedication and devotion to them and to the football program.

That's the image that won't let me go--those young men standing in honor of Chad and his memory.

Like silent sentinels, they stood. An awesome thing to see and experience.

I can imagine the thoughts and feelings of those who rode in the funeral procession that day. The power of a silent witness. A thanks spoken without words, just a presence.

In the wake of Justin Fretz's recent death, as well as the deaths of other Bremen students, and the deaths that Jan and I have faced in our immediate families this past year, it is comforting to know that the Lord does not ever miss attending to our grief with His love and presence.

I drive by those paw prints every Monday through Friday. Recently, I am reminded of God's steadfast love, standing sentinel over my life and the life of every person. I see Jesus.

And then I go workout. Humble. Thankful.

Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed--not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence--continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, [13] for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.--Philippians 2:12-13 (NIV)

Here's that team ...

Back From the DR

We made it back from the Dominican Republic on Tuesday, January 27, safe and sound. The day was long, as it often is when you travel these days, but it was good to be back in COLD Indiana at the end of the day.

We traveled the last leg of our journey, from the Bypass down 331 to Bremen, with light flurries. We kept joking that the snow looked like sand on the beach, reminding ourselves that the day before we HAD been on the beach, in Dorada on the north shore of the island of Hispanola, which is home to both Haiti and the DR.

It was 85 degrees on Monday, when we went to Darada Beach (playa in Spanish).

My face is peeling today (Thursday, January 29) from too much sun. But that's the price you pay--going to the beach in January!

We completed the work we went to the DR to accomplish--the painting of the inside of the new Mission House in Hato Mayor. What a place! There are four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a kitchen, dining room and living room, with an entrance area and two balconies. There are also stairs going up to the roof, which will someday have a campo de casa, which is like a pavilion on the roof.

It is good to be back home.

Enjoy the photos included in this post. They are of the new Mission House, inside and out, as we as the guys who went on the trip posing at the beach.

Day 2 In the DR

Day 2 in Hato Mayor startedwith a trip into Santiago to purchase paint and painting supplies, along with medicine cabinets for the bathrooms. Breakfast was cheese, fig newton-like cookies, juice and some fruit. It was great!

We headed into Santiago with Pedrito at 8:30 a.m. and didn't return until almost noon, which meant it was close to lunchtime! We had a great lunch of Con Salo, which is a stew with yucca, potatoes, plantains and some pork. You put the stew on rice in a bowl and eat up! We also had some quacamole, as always.

We then proceeded to paint the four bedrooms and cut in the rest of the rooms. Many hands made light work.

It has been overcast all day, but it is still great weather for shorts and a t-shirt!

We are done painting for the day and are awaiting dinner, which will include fried plantains. If you've never had fried plantains all I can tell you is , "Yummy!"

Tomorrow we paint all day long.

It has been great sitting on the gallerias on the second floor and waving to all of the people going by. We had a great time with some police who drove by and then stopped. They appeared to be quite entertained by us (and we by them).

Life is slower here, the pace more of a walking pace, rather than a driving pace. Refreshing.

I'll try to post again to tomorrow. Thanks for your prayers.

First Installment from Hato Mayor

We made it!

We are in Hato Mayor, having arrived late last night (Tuesday). We were delayed getting out of Miami, so we were so late we could not get the vans we had reserved. Instead, we took three taxis (vans) to Hato Mayor, which is only 10 minutes from the airport.

We ate a wonderful meal of yucca and fried salami before heading off to bed. We had to put all of our air mattresses together, blow them up and settle in. We didn´t get to bed until 1 a.m., but it was good to get horizontal.

The Lord was good yesterday. We were caught in a major lake effect snowstorm on I94, which had us worried we were going to miss our flight. Not a good feeling. But once we got to I294 the snow cleared and it was a fast trip to the parking garage.

This morning, we had to go back to the airport and get the two vans we are renting.

This internet cafe is only three houses down from the Marmolejos house, which looks great, by the way.

The house now has four bedrooms and three bathrooms, along with a living room, dining room and kitchen. The kitchen is not in place yet and will require more money and time than we have this trip.

As I write, the ceiling fans and lights are being installed in the bedrooms upstairs. The stores are closed today because of a national holiday, so we won´t be able to get any painting done today. Tomorrow we paint!

Everyone is enjoying the sunny weather. It is about 85 degrees today. Last night it probably got down to the low 60s, which was great sleeping weather.

Our group includes Todd Huff, Dori Thomas, Steve and Amy Kiefer, Mike and Tona Molebash, Howard and Lucy Scott, Jeff Meixel, Roxanne Roschek, Clella Martin and yours truly.

Our major theme for this trip is, ¨Christ working in me- Christ working through me.¨

Please join us in our prayer, which is to see the Lord work in us in such a way that others can see and have their attention directed to the Lord we serve, who loves us with an everlasting love and fills us with grace.

I´ll try to post again real soon.

If you want to send an email to me (or get news to someone else in our group), then send it to jimmorse52@yahoo.com

Welcome Vicarious Travelers to the DR!

Welcome to this online journal of our trip to the Dominican Republic.

This is being posted on Monday, January 19, 2009. We leave tomorrow for Hato Mayor, which is a barrio outside Santiago. We will be in the DR tomorrow night, after a long day of travel!

The photo on this post is of the house that has become a "mission house" for Horizonites and others. It is the second floor of the existing house of Pedrito and Arelis, who are the parents of Job Marmolejos (who is married to Laura and they, together, are the parents of Jailen).

We will be painting the house, both inside and out, while we are in Hato Mayor. You can see the rebar sticking up on the second storey, as well as the first course of cinder block, which is for the outside walls.

There are 12 of us making the trip. You can check here for updates to see what new things have happened and what might be in the works.

Thanks for your prayers. We have been asking this of the Lord, that He might work IN us and that He might work THROUGH us.

You can email me at jimmorse52@yahoo.com

Thanks for checking in.

Later, amigo.

The "How Much More" of Christmas

Christmas is about God sending His Son to earth to inaugurate the Kingdom of God, which will result in the restoration of all things, including me. (And I need it!)

Given the mess that I and the world are in, what more could I/we ask for?

But the amazing thing is that Jesus, and the restoration He both is and brings, is not good enough for many (embarassingly, even me at times). We want more.

The question for me is: How much more?

When I consider Christmas and am honest with myself, there is no more "more." Jesus is enough. Jesus is more than enough.

Now I've just got to live that truth.

Blessed

Genesis 5:2 (NCV) He created them male and female, and on that day he blessed them and named them human beings.

God is good.

God is a blessing machine.

Psalm 118:24 (NCV)
This is the day that the Lord has made.
Let us rejoice and be glad today!

It is easy to miss the blessedness of each day. But the larger (perhaps even the largest) truth is that I AM BLESSED.

Sure, life is hard and challenging, painful even. But that does not mean that God is not blessing me, along with creation and every person in it.

Frustratingly, for some, is the fact that God is such a Blesser that He blesses everyone, regardless of whether they acknowledge Him or bless Him back.

Jesus mentioned this when He spoke of the wheat and weeds.

Matthew 13:24-30 (NIV) Jesus told them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. [25] But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. [26] When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared. [27] "The owner's servants came to him and said, 'Sir, didn't you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?' [28] " 'An enemy did this,' he replied. "The servants asked him, 'Do you want us to go and pull them up?' [29] " 'No,' he answered, 'because while you are pulling the weeds, you may root up the wheat with them. [30] Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.' "

So the wheat and weeds grow up together, until the time for sorting comes. That will be the day of justice; the day that our hearts long for, having heard the voice of justice speaking as if from a great distance. Perhaps that voice is heard only as a faint echo, but it is still the voice of Justice that echoes through the ages, telling us of a day that will come when all will be made right. That will be the day when heaven and earth are renewed and conjoined.

God's goodness washes over me every moment of my life--and I stand blessed before God and creation.

That's good news. I don't care who you are.