I Tell You This in Your Own Best Interest...

You sit uncomfortably in the pew and stare at the piece of dirt on the top of your shoe as the pastor assures you there is one more person who needs to raise their hand.  "With all eyes closed and all heads bowed"  Your conscience is screaming at you from within but you don't want to be honest with yourself.  You have a vague idea of the chain of events that might follow you separating your clasped fingers and pushing your right hand through the heavy air within view of the pulpit.  You don't let your mind wander toward a future containing the possibility of telling your family a sudden change of lifestyle, admitting that habit you have been trying to kick, maybe even quitting your job and moving to Africa or something.  You concentrate as hard as you can on absolutely nothing until the altar call is over and you are free.  Subconsciously you make a determination as to what is in your own best interest.  You decide that you will be better off in the long run by ignoring what might be the voice of God at this moment.  We've all done it; the only reason I can describe this situation is because of how many times I've sat in that pew myself. 

The Mediterranean Sea

Whether you are the person who made it through the altar call without giving in or a missionary in Cambodia I want to assure you today that God always has your best interest in mind.  Remember that story about Abraham with his arm raised high holding a dagger ready to plunge it into the heart of his son?  Imagine what he thought the outcome of following God's voice would be in that scenario.  God told him to kill his son.  Not really the kind of command you consider to be in your best interest; or anyone's best interest for that matter.  Abraham had no idea how that could possibly work out for good; it must have seemed that God just hated him for no reason and was asking him to ridiculous things in order to torment him.  He did it though, and what happened?  God stopped his hand at the last second and Abraham became one of the most blessed dads to have ever walked the earth. 

The Mediterranean Sea

Our problem as humans is not that we seek happiness.  Everyone wants to be happy, peaceful, significant, and loved.  That's not the problem, the problem is that we are too finite to know what brings happiness.  We think that one more beer will make us happy, we think those extra hours in the office will lead to happiness, we think if we just ignore God's call and sit quietly in that pew a few more minutes we can build our own safe life and smile as big as the people in the advertisements.  We don't get it.  How could following Jesus possibly be in our best interest?  How could forgiving your sister, loving terrorists, giving away your money, admitting your dark secrets, going to church, or dying to yourself bring you happiness? 

The Mediterranean Sea

My favorite parable in the Bible answers this question.  Jesus said a man was digging in a field and he discovered a buried treasure worth millions.  He immediately quit that job, sold every last possession he owned and purchased the field where he found the treasure.  It wasn't a sacrifice to sell all of his stuff, he never had more fun at any garage sale in his life.  He was making a comparably small investment to get an insanely large return.  The treasure is the kingdom of heaven, it is what God has in store for you, it is what God wants you to take, it is the joy, peace, love, and fun that you want for yourself.  The man's possessions is your life.  Your ambitions, pride, reputation, time, money, your will.  It is not a sacrifice to give that stuff up, it's a tiny investment for a gigantic payoff, and you will find you have never had more fun in your life in the process of hawking it despite what may appear to be persecutions, hardships, and prickly obstacles.  You have to trust that God loves you and knows better what will make you happy than you know. 

The Mediterranean Sea

Sometimes we act like a bird flying into a glass wall trying to get the seeds on the other side.  God is yelling out from above "fly around it, there's a door right there!" as we ram our head again and fall on the ground angry and confused.  We believe, maybe this time lying to my spouse will work, maybe judging that girl will work, maybe rejecting that altar call will work.  We want to be happy we just don't know how.  Good news!  God knows what is best for you, he has a detailed plan to get you there, and he really desperately wants you to take it.  Whether it's your conscience, a Bible verse, or the words of a preacher, you know deep down what God's will is for you.  God loves you way more than you love yourself, and I assure you, if it's from God, it leads to happiness, freedom, and life regardless of how it appears from your perspective at any given moment.  

How Do You Feel about Spain?

I have been in Spain now for a week and a half.  Yesterday evening I sat on my patio overlooking the Mediterranean Sea and wrote down an answer in my little brown notebook to a question my Argentinean Spanish teacher was asking me, "How do you feel about your time in Spain so far?"  Good question.  I placed the tip of my pen on the paper and stared hard at the wood grain of the table.  I thought about this week's guest speaker, the CEO of a successful business in the States, and how after sharing the gritty details of his dreams and story of faith we gathered around and prayed for him, feeling the weight of his 10 year struggle to accomplish something for the Kingdom of God.  I thought about the church I had attended on Sunday and how I could feel God's presence despite understanding about 3% of the worship song lyrics.  I thought about how my back muscles felt at the top of the local rock face after having accomplished an "impossible" route despite having swum all over the Mediterranean earlier in the morning on Saturday.  I thought about the view of the African coast from the mountain top I had hiked to during lunch break and how tiny I felt in comparison to the world.  I thought about how my Spanish teacher would make me translate whatever I wrote down into Spanish.  I wrote, "I am loving my time in Spain so far." 

The village of Mijas Pueblo as seen from the top of the mountain on which is sits 

Swimming in the Med - a 10 minute bus ride from home

Climbing just a couple blocks from our home 

Just as I was hoping, the G-42 Leadership Academy appears to be a place of raw Christian community, practical Kingdom-centered academia, and experienced mentorship in a picture perfect location.  I live on the edge of the little village of Mijas Pueblo in an old white church perched on the side of a mountain.  My roommates are fellow students; six Americans, two Dutchmen, and one South African.  All of them want to change the world through love and I have no doubts that they will.  They are people of character, honor, and motivation and I feel blessed to live life with them.  The professors are some of the most accomplished and experienced people I have met, ranging from church planters to CEOs to non-profit visionaries. 

Sunrise yesterday from my patio 

The point of G-42 is to bring its "interns" to a place where they can make a detailed, practical plan about how they are going to love some people and reverse an oppression in the name of Jesus and then go do it.  The school accomplishes this through mentorship, discipleship, teaching, and intentional community.  It is an exciting place to be.  I am still trying to figure out exactly what I want out of my time here and what I am going to do afterward but I can honestly say from the bottom of my heart, "I am loving my time in Spain so far."  

What's the Most Beautiful Place on Earth?

Havasupai might be the most beautiful place on earth.  Imagine that unrealistic scene from "The Swiss Family Robinson" Disney movie when they happen upon a tropical pool surrounded by palm trees and jungle vines complete with water chutes to slide down.  Now place 50 of those pools in a row connected with the kind of creek a lazy-river ride tries to imitate, add some 200 foot waterfalls, and put that in the middle of the biggest, most rugged canyon on the planet and you have Havasupai.  Photos do it no justice, but even they look fictional. 

The Swiss Family Robinson Pool

This kind of place comes with a price though.  Some people wait years for a permit so they can drive hundreds of miles of back roads to hike a 10 mile trail down a desert canyon to access it.  Appropriately, I have never heard of anyone going for just one day.  Just the drive there and the hike down and up takes more than a day.

I lay awake on the couch regretting the cup of coffee earlier in the day.  It was 1 AM and I was thinking about my plan for the next two days.  My friend Phil and I had talked about hiking the Grand Canyon together ever since he was here in 2009, so in June we agreed on a 4 day span and he bought his flight from Baltimore.  Then, in the middle of September I decided to go to a school in Spain which unfortunately began the same day as our proposed hike.  I squeezed the hike as early into Phil's vacation as possible and booked my flight to Spain for two days after the first day of class.  Then, a week ago, the US government shut down most of its operations due to a lack of budget concurrence thereby closing all access to the Grand Canyon.  Just to top it all off, Phil missed his flight to Phoenix and arrived 9 hours late.  Now here I was lying awake on my couch wondering how I could get the most out of the next day and a half. 

Suddenly, with no meandering thought train, an idea presented itself in my head.  Havasupai is actually a small section of the Grand Canyon that is owned and run by a Native American tribe unaffiliated with the bickering federal government.  Why couldn't two young healthy men do it in a day?  If we started the hike at 5 AM, we could potentially spend a few hours in Havasupai and still get back home with 2 hours to pack before my flight to Spain.  Genius. 

A sign at the Havasupai trail head "No Day Hiking"

The next day I was firmly planted in the leather racing seat of our 2012 Ford Mustang rental car.  As I carved through the Red Rock Canyon road, my smile proved the worth of the $12 upgrade fee.  The plan was to spend "the night" (until 1:30 AM anyway so that we could get to the trailhead by 5) in Sedona at an 1800s log cabin that I had the incredible privilege of accessing through a friend.  It is idyllically situated at the bottom of Red Rock Canyon right next to a crystal clear mountain-fed creek, nestled cozily in the Ponderosa Pines.  We spent the evening warming our bodies around the wood-burning stove while playing cards under the hand-hewn rafters, trying to convince ourselves this was not such a stupid idea. 

Red Rock Canyon by Sedona

My alarm sounded at 1:30 AM.  My brain slowly turned on and I gradually remembered where I was and what lay before me.  I felt as if I had only been sleeping for 5 minutes.  Phil and I groggily packed our belongings, cleaned the cabin, and filled up our plethora of water bottles before easing into the low seats of the Mustang.  Normally I would have fallen asleep an hour into such a drive, but as it was, with the combination of the car, empty Indian reservation roads, and a night sky Galileo would have been jealous of, we arrived in 3 hours flat, an hour and a half sooner than Google Maps estimated, and I was wide awake.  

Just in case your feet stop reminding you how abusive the trail is

By the time the sky was bright enough to see our surroundings we were 3 miles into the canyon.  The sandstone cliffs towered above us and the limestone cliffs towered above them.  In typical Arizona fashion it was a perfect day with not a cloud in the sky.  We hiked fast and soon we were walking through the little village of Supai, the only town in the US that still has its mail delivered by mule.  While I can think of few less-convenient locations for a village, I am sure the view is unparalleled.  The unrealistically beautiful Havasu Creek rushes its way through this part of the canyon and over several mammoth falls before joining with the Colorado River 7 miles downstream.  It brings life to an otherwise arid landscape, the lush green jungle-like flora contrasting strikingly with the red cliffs and tropical turquoise water.   

Going for a swim

Unnamed Falls

Climbing to the bottom of Mooney Falls

Mooney Falls

After 5 hours of rock climbing, swimming, and fighting currents Phil and I rested for a late lunch at the top of Havasu Falls before our 10 mile trek back out.  I sat barefoot on a boulder eating my 4-cheese instant mashed potatoes with sardines and stared out over the 100 foot drop.  Tiny people played in the pool below, fighting the spray to get as close to the waterfall as possible before giving up and letting the current swiftly sweep them back to shore.  To my right, bright blue whirlpools danced around before calmly slipping over the precipice.  Above me, the towering cliffs shone brightly in the midday sun against a crayon-blue sky.  "Thank you God for your creation" I said aloud, then added "and for the incredible opportunity to experience it."  It really is no exaggeration to claim that Havasupai is one of the most beautiful locations in the entire world.

The top of Havasu Falls

Now that I'm sitting in a comfortable seat on a flight to Dublin the hike out almost seems insignificant, but I know at the time, between miles 3 and 9, it was the farthest 10 miles and highest 2500 feet I have ever hiked.  Every bone and muscle in my body was cursing me for what I put them through.  Fortunately for me, Phil did most of the drive home late into the night and I had just enough time to do some laundry and pack for Spain before my 7 AM flight.  It was a successful trip in every aspect and, this time anyway, it paid to have such an ambitious goal.  I can't think of any better place to have spent my last day and a half in the US. 

The sun set as we hiked out

Alone in the Superstition Wilderness

I was about a mile into Boulder Canyon Trail 103 when it hit me.  The sun was directly in the center of the deep blue sky, I had 3 days worth of camping supplies on my back, and I was already soaked in sweat but I stopped dead in my tracks.  I had 3 days worth of camping supplies - minus a lighter.  Freeze dried food galore and no way to cook it.  I muttered a curse word inside my head.  The first noticeable disadvantage to backpacking alone - not being able to rely on anyone else's memory.  The second - not having anyone to complain to about it. 







"Boulder Canyon Trail 103"



Canyon Lake - Where I started my Trail



Months ago I had decided to spend a few days in the wilderness when I got back to the States in order to process and reflect on my World Race.  I've spent many days, even weeks, in the wilderness but this time was going to be different than any other, this time I was alone.  I wasn't going to any it's-a-wilderness-if-you-pretend-it-is place either, I was going to the biggest, emptiest, most remote wilderness I knew of - the Superstition Mountains of Arizona.  A US government sanctioned wilderness area, the Superstition Wilderness is a maze of cactus, canyons, and peaks a little smaller than the state of Rhode Island, and nobody is allowed in except on foot.  For all I knew, I was the only person within 50 miles.  Six miles in I was watching a perfect sunset from a thousand-foot cliff listening to the eagles' rushing wings as they dove down to the most picturesque desert valley I had ever seen, the memories of my terrible memory nearly forgotten. 



Beautiful Dessert Valley






Some Kind of Bird Nest





After a fitful night of sleep on a popped sleeping pad inside a fallen hammock I was having trouble starting what I had come to do - reflect on and process my year abroad.  I have never been good at alone-time, which is why I never so much as watch a movie by myself, so I decided to read a little bit of Matthew instead.  I happened to start at the beginning of Jesus' ministry where, lo and behold, he spent 40 days fasting in the wilderness.  I was fasting (unintentionally) in the wilderness too!  I imagined Jesus hiking through the desert with his pack on his back, humming to himself and stopping every once in a while to admire a tarantula or an epic view of God's creation.  I bet he prayed a lot, climbed a few sweet boulders, and did some serious processing before he began his three years of ministry.  He probably tried to orient his mind and take an introspective step back to the basics and ask himself, "Why am I doing this, anyway?"  So that is what I asked myself, "Why did I do the World Race anyway?"



Noticed this guy as I set up camp - the biggest tarantula I've ever seen anywhere






Home Sweet Home





Having found a shadier, and more secure, location for my hammock, I reclined with my World Race notebook and browsed through the earlier pages trying to answer my question.  The answers I found were actually somewhat surprising to me and I collected a bulleted list:


Why did I do the World Race?
1. For a new "normal" - looking around for how to be a part of God's work instead of concentrating on myself
2. Because I am the hope for a world that needs Jesus
3. To pursue Jesus' mission - to bring good news to the poor, bind up the brokenhearted, proclaim liberty to the captives, etc…
4. To become selfless, especially in the small things
5. To grow in boldness and find identity in Jesus
6. To become a disciple, not just a believer


So if those were what I wanted to get out of the last year, was I successful?  Well, after thinking through the year I had to admit that while I was definitely headed in the right direction, it was only a small start.  While I did accomplish some of that due to the monumental characters of Faith that I met along the way and the nature of my work and my purpose, I think my vision started becoming a little bit foggy in the middle of it all.  I think I have a very long way to go before I reach any of those goals and some of them don't even have a conclusion. 






Isn't that neat?





I took a break to do some rock climbing and dip my dusty feet in the creek in order to soak in the melting hot sun before another frigid night overtook me.  Coming back, I read the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew.  Let God's  will be done, not yours; store up treasures in Heaven instead of on earth so that your heart is in the Kingdom; don't be anxious about food, water, clothes, or tomorrow for God will provide.  I suddenly felt more clear-headed and settled about not only the World Race, but my upcoming future than I ever had before. 






I actually did end up finding a match in my pack but it wouldn't light 





I prayed a short prayer and wrote it in my journal, "Dear God, Thank you for the World Race; for the people, adventure, learning, growth.  Thank you for the opportunity to share hope and be a light, to proclaim freedom and care for the needy.  Thank you for letting me be a part of what you are doing around the world.  Don't let me lose sight of the kingdom, of the reasons I was on the Race, help me continue to grow as a disciple of yours.  I love you, -Brant



Boulder Canyon - look closely on top of the cliff and you can see giant Saguaro Cactus






Good Night





I took up camp the next day full of energy and optimism.  My year was reviewed and I was ready to tackle my next adventure: G-42 in Spain.  I spoke aloud for the first time in three days, praying for all my friends around the world, and listened to the foreign noise echo in my ears.  Sometimes you have to take a physical journey in order to go on a spiritual journey, and sometimes, in order to process that journey, you have to take another journey; and sometimes it has to be done alone in the Superstition Wilderness.  

Back Home after a Year Abroad

 It's good to be home.  As I write this I am sitting on my favorite couch at Fair Trade coffee shop, my old hangout in downtown Phoenix, sipping a delicious dark roast and listening to the least pretentious coffee shop music in town.  As I was flying into Phoenix the other night, staring out my 737 window, I suddenly got excited to be home and tried to figure out which side of the city we were entering.  I attempted without success to get my bearings until we were practically landing.  I walked onto the jet bridge and was surprised by the wave of heat that blasted me despite the fact that it was 11 pm.  I took the brand new "sky train" to the light rail system and soaked in the familiar sights.  I started narrating in my head all the places I passed and my relationship to them as if I were a tour guide.  Then, as I got off my stop in front of Gateway Community College and started a internal monologue about its campus I remembered that I had once taken a Spanish class there.  I had spent four hours a week sitting in a cold classroom listening to an old white lady teach Spanish for an entire semester and I had completely forgotten the entire thing.  I had just been part of a conversation a couple days previous about my Spanish speaking skills and the different places I had learned them and the thought of that class never even entered my mind.  An entire semester forgotten. 

Back in AZ after a year

I know I have a bad memory but I never thought I would forget such vital aspects of my life in Phoenix after only a year away.  Time and time again though, the last couple days in Phoenix, I have found myself forgetting major street names, friend's houses, even the way to my favorite hiking locations.  It makes me think about the book of Ecclesiastes in the Bible.  Solomon declares that he has pretty much tried everything in life but all is vanity.  While it seems obvious to me that material possessions are transient - moths and rust decay, housing markets collapse, gold tarnishes, and eventually you have to sell your motorcycle and your Wrangler - I guess it sometimes seems less obvious that experiences fade just as quickly.  That white water rafting trip down the Snake river, Philosophy 211, your first bike ride, all your memories will eventually fade into the past leaving you with just a slight change of character or world view.  So when everything has come and subsequently gone - possessions, experiences, education, even relationships - what are you left with?  I guess the only constant in life, the only thing that survives the grave, is your relationship with Jesus and your work for the Kingdom of Heaven.  More and more I want the focus of everything I do, everything I own, and every relationship I have to be on the eternal instead of the transient.