Practice Presence - Part 3

In 4 days I will be on my way to the United Kingdom to spend two months in a Bible college, then two more weeks getting a taste of Europe. How could I help living zestfully on that kind of adventure? How could I not be fully present?

The same way I forget to be present in the small adventures of everyday life.

Dear Diary: 21/10/06, a photo by kiwanja on Flickr.

Each week I am blessed: conversations with friends, a special ice cream cone, a startling passage from a book. Each time I make the choice, "Will I be present, or will I obsess about past experiences, the calories, or the next exciting insight?"

One way I choose to be present is to journal. In one sense this activity means ignoring the experiences around you as you record the past—that's not what I'm talking about. What I mean is using your gift, whether that be writing or drawing or sculpting or composing or whatever, and using it to capture the place or state of mind you are in.

As you've probably guessed, I love to write. If I were to journal about this moment to practice being present, it would look something like this:

Rolling down the road in the dark between jobs, I hear Aaron's music leaking out from his earbuds, the rhythmic thumping of old pavement, and watch the glare of pink and blue streetlights slip over my skin. Holding this slim iPod and typing away on the minuscule keyboard, I marvel at the Promethean marvel of modern technology. Mom and Dad chat in the front seat. They're happy tonight; tired, but happy.

There, more or less, I've captured the sights and sensations of riding in the car with my family on a typical Tuesday night. It's short and simple, but helps me pay attention to what is really going on.

Take a minute to free-write about what you're going through right now, or draw a picture, or sing a song. Look at yourself from a long way away, and take it all in. Practice presence by getting a 360° view of your situation. Enjoy this time for what it is, not for what it might be.

While I'm on this trip I'm going to keep looking for zest and purpose in new, strange places, and share what I learn. If you want to keep up with the nitty-gritty of my European travels, check out thebritophilediaries.blogspot.com.

The Word for 2013

Perhaps you've heard of naming each year of your life with one word or phrase that encapsulates what you hope for, expect, and seek. For example, I christened last year "Adventure," and it lived up to it! I took an exciting trip to visit friends, went out of my comfort zone more than once, applied and was accepted to Capernwray Bible School, took the 40 Day Challenge to show solidarity with the poor, finished my college studies, and took a journey of gratitude by counting 1,000 gifts.

To this year I give a new name: Discovery.

Flying the Friendly Skies....

You'll never guess what I'll be doing (God willing) this Friday: going on my first-ever airplane trip!

I've dreamed of flying for years and years, but thought that my first time probably wouldn't come until next April when I plan to fly to England. Now an awesome chance has come up to visit friends in San Antonio, Texas, and I'm taking it! 

As you can probably imagine, I am rather relieved that my first baby steps of travel will not have to be taken on a transatlantic flight. 

What is your opinion of air travel? Do you have any advice for a newbie? 

Untitled, a photo by John Steven Fernandez on Flickr.

Abigail's Day Out

Don't self-portraits always look a little funny?

Today I did something completely unprecedented: I spent the whole day (9:30 AM-7:30 PM) in town by myself! This is wild and crazy, let me tell you. The fact that I've never done this and I'm 19 years old should tell you that I don't get out on my own very often. As I just finished my first college semester, I decided that I needed a treat. This was a "grand adventure" for me--a chance to spread my wings and get outside my comfort zone, proving to my family and myself that I am capable of driving, eating, touring, and navigating without creating a five-car pileup, being robbed blind, or taking a wrong turn and ending up in Albuquerque. 


My first stop was to see an elderly friend of mine who is suffering greatly in a nursing home. It's a very sad story, but the long and short of it is that she has lost all physical and most mental power to control her own life, and everything must be done for her by others--which is her worst nightmare. This might seem like a weird way to start a "girl's day out", but it was good for me, making the subsequent pleasures of adventure and novelty all the more poignant and precious.

Mildred B. Cooper Memorial Chapel--you'd think they could have come up with
a more romantic name....

Just a short drive away from the nursing home there is a gorgeous little chapel that I had never taken the time to see. It's a small, arching structure of wood and glass, tucked away in a quiet wood, which looks like it's in the middle of nowhere despite the fact that the highway is less than five minutes away. It's popular for weddings, and probably funerals, but when I went there it was completely empty, warm, and quiet, with natural light streaming in through the windows and muted piano music playing in the background. I took photos and spent a few minutes drinking in my surroundings, marveling at this precious little gem so close to home, and thinking about my visit with my friend. Then I packed up the camera and headed out to my main destination. 

A diorama of Crystal Bridges as it will look when finished.

Perhaps you've heard of Crystal Bridges, the world-class museum of American art that was just opened last November (11/11/11) in Bentonville, Arkansas. It is a complex of concrete and glass buildings with curved roofs of copper ribbing (which looks like a huddle of armadillos), designed to blend seamlessly into the natural landscape. This is all built in, around, and over a stream which has been manipulated into a large pool, and the buildings jut into and across it like bridges. It's an amazing place and I'm privileged to have it right out my back door, so to speak. Thanks to Walmart, admission is completely free, so it is the perfect place to drop by and spend some time marveling at the fantastic architecture and beautiful works of art. I parked in the parking garage (first time!) and went inside, checked my coat, picked up an audioguide, and set off! 

A Light in God's Places

In response to another post, Total Abandonment, I’ve received some wonderful answers and insights! I put the same post on another blog, The Britophile Diaries, and got answers over there as well, so I thought I’d share them for anyone who’s in the same pickle as I’ve been in!

Ana Mari reminded me that no one person can have all the answers, only God. She is a woman who became a missionary to Costa Rica a little over a year ago, sacrificing much but with no regrets! She could have had a life of leisure, but decided that that wasn’t what she wanted. God answered her prayers and gave her the desires of her heart. She said that if my desire is to go to Britain to study, then I can serve the Lord there the same as if I give it all up and go serve the unreached right away.  Psalm 37:4, “Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart.”

Don and Shelly responded to my comment,  "Is this what following Christ is like, or is this what fighting against Him is like?" They say it's a little of both. Sometimes we try so hard to follow the will of God that we miss it entirely.  I should just keep praying to seek His will. They gave a great example: perhaps Noah wanted at first to build a monument to God that would testify to many, but God told him to build an ark instead. Perhaps Britain is my ark, and while donating my money toward a cause could be a good thing, following God’s plan could be a great thing! They reiterated what I’ve heard before on this subject: I mustn’t be “guilted” into or out of anything. I especially liked this point, “Perhaps the test for you here is not as much about making the ultimate "correct" choice, but being able to wait upon Him to give you direction.” I should have patience; hard, but necessary!

Total Abandonment

Poverty. Persecution. Suffering. Lostness. Addiction. Darkness. These are things that consume our world, hold happiness in a stranglehold, and suck the life out of billions of people. This planet we call home is riddled with pain, and those of us who are blessed enough to be removed from such horrors as starvation, disease, and filth so easily ignore it all. It’s so easy to sit inside our air conditioned houses on cushy couches and make grandiose plans about our futures.

But don’t we have a responsibility to the lost and suffering? As a Christian I believe that Jesus has called me to follow Him in making disciples, bringing the gospel to all nations, and helping the suffering. It is my purpose in life to know, love, and serve Him. Where does a trip to Britain fit into all that?

For a long time I’ve struggled with the difficult question, “Is this really how God wants me to spend my time and money?” Couldn’t my Britain fund be put to a better use in saving someone’s life in Sudan or feeding a hungry child in Guatemala? Should I be flying to Tanzania instead of England? Should I work with the unreached masses in India rather than attend a Bible school in Lancashire?

The answer seems obvious—of course bringing the gospel to the world is more important than a pleasure-trip for me. But then how do I go about it? Do I relinquish all my dreams of European travel and immediately dedicate myself to the lost and starving?  Which lost and which starving? African, Asian, American?

Is it going overboard to give up my lifelong dream for Christian service, or is it exactly the kind of radical devotion and total abandonment that Jesus requires?

Have you ever been faced with this dilemma—to pursue something for yourself or to give it up for others, or if you’re a Christian, for Christ? I don’t want to live a self-consumed life where I am the end and the means and Jesus is just a friendly spectator. I don’t want to go to Britain if it isn’t His will.

And so I’m back to square one. Confused, worried, depressed, unsure. Is this what following Christ is like, or is this what fighting against Him is like? 

London Eye & Big Ben at sunset, a photo by Harshil.Shah on Flickr.

Pink Patang, a photo by Meanest Indian on Flickr.

Working Fair St. Louis

Our gyro stand is over at the left.

After one day of travel and one of sightseeing, it was time to get down to work. Cameron and I had come to sell gyros after all, and that's what we were going to do.

Fair Saint Louis is probably the biggest event of the year (known as America's Biggest Birthday Party), and we showed up early on Saturday morning to make sure that everything was ready to go.

Here we are on our way to our stand, right below the arch! We were in the perfect location: shady, near the front, and with a lovely view of the airshow and even some of the stage (through the Budweiser tent in front of us).

Cameron: the onion man.

Teddy, Stefan, Radi, Cameron, and later Ivan, were the gyro-men, while Melinda and I took care of dessert, drinks, money, and order-fulfillment. We were sharing a tent with Bayou Seasoning and Catering: a whole passel of fun people I thoroughly enjoyed. Altogether we made quite an ethnic mix--Caucasian American, African American, and Bulgarian. Teddy, Stefan, and Radi were all Bulgarian, and I later met a Bulgarian priest, Ivan, and Stefan's Bulgarian girlfriend, Ellie. Altogether that made for a very eclectic experience, especially whenever they all started talking in Bulgarian. 

Those three days were full of ups and downs, lots of laughs, stress, unforeseen difficulties, and interesting new experiences. 

Every day there was a big schedule: two air shows, displays of local talent on the stage, a finale show with a star band, and then fireworks to cap it all off. The crowds were enormous, and though not all of them wanted gyros, I think business went pretty well, all things considered.

I was the spokesperson for our booth, shouting to get the crowd's attention. My chanting calls will probably echo in my ears for weeks to come:

Authentic Greek gyros!

Step right up here for some delicious croissant bread pudding and refreshing strawberry lemonade!

Homemade baklava!

Fresh Greek salads, right over here!

Authentic Greek gyros and strawberry lemonade!

It was a strain on my vocal chords, but I like to think that it did drum up some business. 

In between rushes of customers Cameron and I might wander the grounds, I would take photos, and we'd scarf down yet another gyro (Cameron ate six over the weekend). I tried to sample all of our delicacies and all of the Cajun fare: andouille sausage on a bun with onions and peppers, jambalaya, bourbon chicken on a stick and beef sirloin kabobs, etc., etc. Then I'd get back to shouting again, Cameron would grill a few more pitas, and I would desperately try to calculate change for a hundred dollar bill. We suffered through some very bad music, and then didn't mind so much when the Steve Miller Band took the stage.

The firework show that first night was little short of spectacular! From my vantage point their fiery explosions were reflected in the shiny metal of the arch, and they flowed and shifted away from each other in waves of green and purple. While watching fireworks and hearing the cacophony of the crowd--different colors, different shapes, different languages--I was reminded that our country is a nation of immigrants, a nation where everyone is different, and everyone is equal. That night I was proud to be American.

Saturday was a rousing success, but Sunday had something else in store for us. We got to sleep in, and when we arrived at the fairgrounds the sky was clear blue and the sun was beating down mercilessly. We were all sick of the heat after sweating so profusely the day before. Little did we know that in the afternoon clouds would start rolling in, rumors would begin to circulate, and little men with official-looking badges would walk around telling vendors to batten down the hatches.

The storm struck at about 3:45 with high winds that destroyed tents and a torrential downpour that threatened to soak everything and everyone to the bone. Thankfully, our tent stayed put and offered us and several others shelter from the the storm, but all of a sudden it was very cold, and very wet, and it was either scream or laugh. So I laughed.

The heavy rain turned the Gateway Arch into
a very large water feature.

That pretty much ruined our chances of selling much for the rest of the day. What we hoped would be a 15 minute shower continued on and on indefinitely. The second airshow, the Maroon 5 concert, and fireworks were cancelled. We tried to mop things up, avoid the mud, and advertise "fresh warm gyros", but ended up leaving early all the same.

Monday--July 4--would have to make up for our losses of the previous night. We started up the grills and I began advertising once more. While we didn't exactly get "slammed", we did have a pretty good trickle of people, and got a few rushes. The air shows seemed to go off smoothly, Montgomery Gentry played their raucous country tunes (Oh the joy that fills my heart.), and the firework finale was huge. 

Cameron and I headed home the next morning, finished listening to an excellent audiobook (Holes by Louis Sachar), and arrived home a few hours later, safe and sound. All in all, our trip was just what I had wanted: a Grand Adventure filled with unique and exciting new experiences. 

But do you know what I think I will treasure the most from this short trip? It's the people I met and the new friends I made. From the nice man at Eovaldi's Deli to the lively Mindy, to hilarious Stefan, to friendly Radi, to the darling and lovable Dooey, Keith, Susan, and Sharon--I've learned lessons, drunk in a new atmosphere, and spread my wings just a little bit farther. 

Thanks for coming on this journey with me!

The Gateway Arch

Construction began in 1963, the cost was $90,491,005 in today's dollars, it was designed by a Finnish American architect, and it is the centerpiece of the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial. The Gateway to the West is 42,878 tons of patriotism, elegance, and modern engineering. It is also very, very tall. 

630 feet tall, to be exact.

If you know me, you probably know that I am petrified of heights. It's not that I really think that there is any probability of falling, or collapsing, or malfunctioning, it's just that something begins to rush through my veins whenever I so much as think of going up in a high building, and I get a little shaky just standing on a stepladder. I knew that no one back home would understand, though, if I returned from St. Louis without going up in the arch. All my life I have heard people tell me that going up in the arch isn't as bad as it looks. I'm still not sure that I believe them. Thankfully, though, Mindy is also a little leery of heights and has gone up into it several times just the same, and that was a comfort. Cameron on the other hand was constantly telling me things like, "You do know that it bends in high winds, right?"

Our first stop was the visitor's center: The Museum of Westward Expansion. This is where they have creepy animatronic mannequins set up all over the place, telling you about the Lewis and Clark expedition. It was an interesting museum, and I learned from a friendly park ranger what not to do with beaver tails.

After a while our time-slot came up to get in line for the ride up into the arch. Naive little me, I imagined that if our tickets said 4:45 we would get into our elevator at about 4:45. I now know better.

A looong time (probably only 39-45 minutes) later we finally worked our way into the creepy little white pod that was straight out of a Star Wars movie.

"We all live in a creepy little pod, a creepy little pod, a creepy little pod....."

I have to admit, I nearly had a panic attack. I think I pinched poor Cameron's leg the whole way up. I had my eyes squeezed tight and was twitching and cringing with every jolt of the elevator. However, I did survive.

The arch was crowded, and when the attendants asked everyone to move to the edge of the room and stay away from certain windows I had to wonder just how many people that thing could safely hold. Thankfully I got my "sea legs" under me pretty quickly and was actually able to lean over and take some pictures out of the tiny, clouded observation windows. 

I called my parents while up in the arch.
Great cell reception!

The arch's reflection in the river. 

So it wasn't too bad, because I didn't die or--even worse--burst into tears. Cameron and Mindy were troopers for putting up with me, and I'm glad that I was able to experience the quintessential St. Louis attraction. 

That wrapped up a very full day of sightseeing. Then the work began....

The Saint Louis Art Museum

Wow, this is one of those places I would love to spend several days in. I could wander from room to room for hours and hours, soaking in and contemplating everything in sight. We just barely scratched the surface of this magnificent collection of art and culture, and I hope that one day I can return to look through it more.

We left the wonderful little Italian bakery and scooted off towards the Saint Louis Art Museum. We probably spent only an hour or so there, but in that short span of time saw works by some of the most famous artists in the world!

Cameron - Contemplating

Zenobia in Chains by Harriet Hosmer

The bookkeeper in this painting is nodding off---fascinating work.

Hmmm, trying to decide where to go next. 

From the art museum we went on to experience the most iconic attraction in St. Louis!

Luncheon in St. Louis

There is a part of St. Louis that is simply called "The Hill". This atmospheric section south of the River des Peres is the Italian part of town, with a salumeria or Catholic church on every corner. Charming little brick houses vie for a few more inches of space beside red, white, and green delicatessens, while children play in one of the area parks. 

One "undiscovered gem" of this area is Eovaldi's Deli, where they make their own salsiccia and delicious red sauce. Our awesome guide, Mindy, showed us this little place tucked away on Bischoff Avenue, far from the swarming crowds of tourists. This is more of a local's place, and we were eager to get the "real deal". 

Both Cameron and I ordered Eovaldi's famous salsiccia sandwich with red sauce, olives, and provel cheese (a St. Louis specialty). Oh man. It was love at first bite.

And that wasn't the end! After we finished our scrumptious sandwiches we headed down the street to the Missouri Baking Company to ogle glass cases stacked high with biscotti, cobblers, cinnamon rolls, baklava, tiramisu, a towering homemade-marshmallow-chocolate concotion, danishes, and more and more and more. Cameron opted for one of their authentic ricotta cheese canolis and Mindy picked up a sfoglietelle. 

Aaaack, so many choices!

I just wanted one bite of everything in the shop, but finally decided on this little beauty:

So, once we got that "I-think-I-ate-half-of-St. Louis" feeling, we were off on another Grand Adventure!

The Missouri Botanical Garden

Our first full day in the big city of St. Louis was spent sightseeing! We drove for hours, got a taste of several fascinating sites, ate our weight in the local fare and got a great first look at the Gateway to the West.

Since I took more than 200 pictures on this first day I think I'll divide the sights into separate posts rather than barraging you with everything at once ;)

THE MISSOURI BOTANICAL GARDEN

Our amazing guide! Mindy
helped us navigate St. Louis all day
long. Thank you, Mindy <3

Stuffed to bursting with fascinating species that you certainly won't find anywhere near Northwest Arkansas, this beautiful garden is just acre after acre of perfectly trimmed shrubbery, exotic trees, flesh eating plants, and gorgeous flowers in nearly every color imaginable. The whole experience impressed me with how creative our God is! I could think for years and years and never invent some of those plants that we saw today. Here is a sampling of the amazing specimens:

First of all, here is a piece of art in the front atrium by the famous glass blower Dave Chihuly. His work was sprinkled here and there all around the garden.

Most of the following photos were taken in the "Climatron", a very large geodesic glass dome housing over half an acre of tropical plants and animals.

Another display of Chihuly art.

Isn't this cool? Looks a little like an elaborate lantern.

Water Lettuce

Aaaack! It's an Abby!

And an exotic Cameron flower from Costa Rica.They grow best in hollow trees.

Behold--the pineapple ginger plant.

This is the carnivorous pitcher plant. See the little insect who is as-yet-unaware of his doom?

Did I mention that we were taking a side-trip to the Mediterranean?

Cameron and I were really "feeling the zen"
 in the Chinese and Japanese gardens!

And, last but not least, some floating onion-things--Chihuly style.

There you have it! That was the first thing we did today, in the "cool" of the morning. Before we knew it the heat index was ratcheting skyward; the sun was baking the sidewalks, bringing out sweat from every pore and seriously damaging the attractiveness of another hour of un-air-conditioned walking. 

So we decided to go to lunch, which was an adventure all on its own....