My brother, Drew, was recently talking about how music is a highway to the soul. It really gets to people like nothing else can. And it's true. In my opinion, music is exceedingly beneficial to our wellbeing. Whether the creation of, the participation in, or simply the act of listening to music will inspire something inside of us.
Anyways, recently one of my friends was badgering me about sharing some of my music with the world. It's weird for me to do, for some reason, but here is one song. I wrote the lyrics while Matt and I were camping out on the rock (see Sixth post), and then put the guitar to it while we were in Ohio. It's obviously a rough recording; I'm using my computer's mic, so it distorts easily. Who cares. I hope you enjoy my vocal solo at the very end.
http://www.garageband.com/song?|pe1|S8LTM0LdsaShY1SzZGs
Click on the neon green play button.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Ninth Post
I have two subjects to ponder today, both of which are of great importance, although one is spiritual and the other mainly physical. I don't know either inside out, but that's why I'm pondering them.
First, repentance. Death is eagerly awaiting to swallow us whole, but patient enough to settle for a bit at a time. Why do I bring up death? Because any pause between the recognition of sin and the act of repentance is an open wound inviting Satan to pour salt into it, eventually bringing some kind of death. I have thought about this often, because I sin often. Condemnation, guilt, shame, fear, doubt, separation from God. All of this, the result of me waiting to feel enough sorrow to merit my reception of forgiveness. How dumb. I must not wait to feel sorrow, or even conviction, to accept grace. If I think about it, I often do feel conviction or sorrow, I just don't think it's enough. But who am I to question the Holy Spirit in convicting me? God has already payed the price for my life, justifying me before Himself, allowing my entrance into His presence for eternity. Romans 3:22-24 proves this -- "This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.(NIV, emphasis added)" So if you are like me, stop beating yourself up over sin, and simply come to God, even boldly, in repentance once again. "Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need (KJV)." Hebrews 4:16
Now, food.
Yes, I said food. I love food. I eat a lot of food, too. And just recently, through the viewing of a few documentaries and revelation of my duty here on earth, have I begun thinking, really thinking, about where exactly my food is coming from. What all is in it? Are all of the people supplying it being treated fairly? Are even the animals being slaughtered taken care of when they are alive? What is the spirit behind the production of all the food that I eat? Is it a spirit of greed, or thoughtful consideration of the wellbeing of others? Basically, does 'Wal-Mart' really want to help people, or make money through the exploitation and mistreatment of vulnerable humans and animals?
I'll start with my responsibility as a human. Genesis 1:28 says "God blessed them and said to them, 'Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground.'" I think God is proud of his creation of animals and plants and water and dirt. He said all of it was good. He is pleased with all of it. So as an image bearer of a God who is pleased with and proud of this earth, shouldn't I do everything in my power to steward wisely all that I have rule over? Not to treat the earth and everything in it simply as an instrument to satisfy my greed and selfishness. I believe in caring for our dwelling here. Not because I love this earth, but because anything less than caring for it is done out of fear, lack of faith, doubt, greed, selfishness, etc... it could get extremely long and complicated as to why I feel inclined to be a good steward of the earth and everything in it, but I'm just going to hope that you understand.
Now, these documentaries have gotten me thinking. I'd have to watch them again and research for myself to sift the fact from fiction, but I am more aware of some things that go on to bring food to my...chair. We don't have a table in here.
First off, chickens are treated pretty bad when they are alive. These massive, frozen, boneless chicken breasts that I have bought in bulk come from hormone injected chickens that are growing so fast their muscles cannot keep up with their weight. They can't walk, and they barely even stand. Most of their life is spent in a dark warehouse, surrounded by hundreds of other pathetic chickens, wallowing in their filth. I don't want to eat that chicken.
Second, many farmer's are manipulated by the companies buying their crop in bulk. The companies keep them in debt by forcing them to keep buying the latest equipment or pesticide or whatever. It comes down to mass production. It seems anything will be done for 'the most they can get in the least amount of time'. I don't want to condone that at any level.
Sadly, it's difficult to do much about this. I feel like I'm becoming a semi-vegetarian, and I tried to buy as much organic labeled food when I went shopping yesterday, but it's hard to find all organic in Tyler, TX. Fast food restaurants are dwindling down for me, and Wal-Mart is less and less appealing. There's probably a lot that I would have to give up, as well as search for, to stop condoning any hint of these injustices altogether, but I'm taking baby steps. I still bought lunch meat yesterday.
I know that somewhere animals and humans are greatly mistreated, and I also know that my consumption of certain foods only encourages these injustices. So I have a lot more thinking and researching to do, but at least I'm more aware. That's what I want you to be. More aware. Hopefully you will start thinking and researching for yourself.
First, repentance. Death is eagerly awaiting to swallow us whole, but patient enough to settle for a bit at a time. Why do I bring up death? Because any pause between the recognition of sin and the act of repentance is an open wound inviting Satan to pour salt into it, eventually bringing some kind of death. I have thought about this often, because I sin often. Condemnation, guilt, shame, fear, doubt, separation from God. All of this, the result of me waiting to feel enough sorrow to merit my reception of forgiveness. How dumb. I must not wait to feel sorrow, or even conviction, to accept grace. If I think about it, I often do feel conviction or sorrow, I just don't think it's enough. But who am I to question the Holy Spirit in convicting me? God has already payed the price for my life, justifying me before Himself, allowing my entrance into His presence for eternity. Romans 3:22-24 proves this -- "This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.(NIV, emphasis added)" So if you are like me, stop beating yourself up over sin, and simply come to God, even boldly, in repentance once again. "Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need (KJV)." Hebrews 4:16
Now, food.
Yes, I said food. I love food. I eat a lot of food, too. And just recently, through the viewing of a few documentaries and revelation of my duty here on earth, have I begun thinking, really thinking, about where exactly my food is coming from. What all is in it? Are all of the people supplying it being treated fairly? Are even the animals being slaughtered taken care of when they are alive? What is the spirit behind the production of all the food that I eat? Is it a spirit of greed, or thoughtful consideration of the wellbeing of others? Basically, does 'Wal-Mart' really want to help people, or make money through the exploitation and mistreatment of vulnerable humans and animals?
I'll start with my responsibility as a human. Genesis 1:28 says "God blessed them and said to them, 'Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground.'" I think God is proud of his creation of animals and plants and water and dirt. He said all of it was good. He is pleased with all of it. So as an image bearer of a God who is pleased with and proud of this earth, shouldn't I do everything in my power to steward wisely all that I have rule over? Not to treat the earth and everything in it simply as an instrument to satisfy my greed and selfishness. I believe in caring for our dwelling here. Not because I love this earth, but because anything less than caring for it is done out of fear, lack of faith, doubt, greed, selfishness, etc... it could get extremely long and complicated as to why I feel inclined to be a good steward of the earth and everything in it, but I'm just going to hope that you understand.
Now, these documentaries have gotten me thinking. I'd have to watch them again and research for myself to sift the fact from fiction, but I am more aware of some things that go on to bring food to my...chair. We don't have a table in here.
First off, chickens are treated pretty bad when they are alive. These massive, frozen, boneless chicken breasts that I have bought in bulk come from hormone injected chickens that are growing so fast their muscles cannot keep up with their weight. They can't walk, and they barely even stand. Most of their life is spent in a dark warehouse, surrounded by hundreds of other pathetic chickens, wallowing in their filth. I don't want to eat that chicken.
Second, many farmer's are manipulated by the companies buying their crop in bulk. The companies keep them in debt by forcing them to keep buying the latest equipment or pesticide or whatever. It comes down to mass production. It seems anything will be done for 'the most they can get in the least amount of time'. I don't want to condone that at any level.
Sadly, it's difficult to do much about this. I feel like I'm becoming a semi-vegetarian, and I tried to buy as much organic labeled food when I went shopping yesterday, but it's hard to find all organic in Tyler, TX. Fast food restaurants are dwindling down for me, and Wal-Mart is less and less appealing. There's probably a lot that I would have to give up, as well as search for, to stop condoning any hint of these injustices altogether, but I'm taking baby steps. I still bought lunch meat yesterday.
I know that somewhere animals and humans are greatly mistreated, and I also know that my consumption of certain foods only encourages these injustices. So I have a lot more thinking and researching to do, but at least I'm more aware. That's what I want you to be. More aware. Hopefully you will start thinking and researching for yourself.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Eighth Post
I always get so far ahead of myself.
I'm sorry, that was rude. I didn't mean to jump into things. Let me give you a little background. Here's how it started --
I was stuck on a "mountain" for a few days camping out, like I mentioned a few days back. The day before we left, I decided to take a walk around the top of it; maybe a mile long circular trail. A quarter mile in, I hear distant sounds of a helicopter and start looking all around to see where the thing is, because I love helicopters and want to catch a glimpse of it and maybe wave to them so that they'll land and have lunch with me and then take me up in the helicopter with them. Anyways, after not seeing it, I keep walking and end up sitting on an overhanging rock overlooking a valley of dark green trees making up part of the Ozark's. It was beautiful. Still is, I'm just not there to look at it anymore. But then I saw it! A small yellow dot, off in the distance -- below me! The helicopter was flying through the valley, supposedly dropping chemicals that ignite on ground contact. It was cool to see the uprising of smoke as the helicopter kept making passes back and forth. So I got really excited about this helicopter. Then they started gaining altitude, and began to come over towards where I was, circled back around and back down into the valley. They went right over my head, maybe 30 feet above me. I don't remember exactly, I was too excited, but I probably jumped up and down waving at them, hoping for some lunch.
At that point, something in my heart was reignited. Passion.
"For helicopters?", you might ask. Well, yes actually. Fixed wing aircraft as well. But for more than that. For the thrill of the sky. The adrenaline of freedom. The danger of speed -- no, none of those, really. I cannot limit this passion to mere words; I am simply not scholarly enough to put this emotion on paper. It runs in my veins, somewhere deep in my soul, a longing for flight. I imagine myself sitting in the pilot's seat at the beginning of the runway, waiting for my flight instructor and air traffic control to give me the go ahead, then pushing in the throttle and my flight instructor taking over because I'm suddenly weeping and cannot do anything out of sheer joy. Surprised? For some reason I assume that everyone I know knows that I want to be a pilot, and I'm always surprised at the people that have no idea. Well, now you know. I want to be a pilot.
So that has been on my mind the past week or so. I have been eagerly searching online for colleges that offer major's in Aeronautic's/Aviation. I already emailed a few of them, requesting information. I really want to go to Embry-Riddle in Prescott, Arizona and become a commercial helicopter pilot. But it costs a lot to go there, so would depend completely on the financial aid package I was offered. Something around $63,000 a year, minimum, for that specific program. I still want to go there though. I think it fun to dream big with a safe dose of objectivity and open hands in case it is not where God wants me. That's what it comes down to. Trusting God. I honestly do not care if I ever fly a plane or helicopter, because I'm sure Jesus can hook me up in heaven if need be. They probably have super cool vehicles to fly in heaven.
And this is where I start reminding myself to focus on what is directly ahead of me. I haven't even begun my next adventure to the Pacific, and I am already thinking of my next one. Slow down, my soul, you have time enough!
See? I always get so far ahead of myself.
I'm sorry, that was rude. I didn't mean to jump into things. Let me give you a little background. Here's how it started --
I was stuck on a "mountain" for a few days camping out, like I mentioned a few days back. The day before we left, I decided to take a walk around the top of it; maybe a mile long circular trail. A quarter mile in, I hear distant sounds of a helicopter and start looking all around to see where the thing is, because I love helicopters and want to catch a glimpse of it and maybe wave to them so that they'll land and have lunch with me and then take me up in the helicopter with them. Anyways, after not seeing it, I keep walking and end up sitting on an overhanging rock overlooking a valley of dark green trees making up part of the Ozark's. It was beautiful. Still is, I'm just not there to look at it anymore. But then I saw it! A small yellow dot, off in the distance -- below me! The helicopter was flying through the valley, supposedly dropping chemicals that ignite on ground contact. It was cool to see the uprising of smoke as the helicopter kept making passes back and forth. So I got really excited about this helicopter. Then they started gaining altitude, and began to come over towards where I was, circled back around and back down into the valley. They went right over my head, maybe 30 feet above me. I don't remember exactly, I was too excited, but I probably jumped up and down waving at them, hoping for some lunch.
At that point, something in my heart was reignited. Passion.
"For helicopters?", you might ask. Well, yes actually. Fixed wing aircraft as well. But for more than that. For the thrill of the sky. The adrenaline of freedom. The danger of speed -- no, none of those, really. I cannot limit this passion to mere words; I am simply not scholarly enough to put this emotion on paper. It runs in my veins, somewhere deep in my soul, a longing for flight. I imagine myself sitting in the pilot's seat at the beginning of the runway, waiting for my flight instructor and air traffic control to give me the go ahead, then pushing in the throttle and my flight instructor taking over because I'm suddenly weeping and cannot do anything out of sheer joy. Surprised? For some reason I assume that everyone I know knows that I want to be a pilot, and I'm always surprised at the people that have no idea. Well, now you know. I want to be a pilot.
So that has been on my mind the past week or so. I have been eagerly searching online for colleges that offer major's in Aeronautic's/Aviation. I already emailed a few of them, requesting information. I really want to go to Embry-Riddle in Prescott, Arizona and become a commercial helicopter pilot. But it costs a lot to go there, so would depend completely on the financial aid package I was offered. Something around $63,000 a year, minimum, for that specific program. I still want to go there though. I think it fun to dream big with a safe dose of objectivity and open hands in case it is not where God wants me. That's what it comes down to. Trusting God. I honestly do not care if I ever fly a plane or helicopter, because I'm sure Jesus can hook me up in heaven if need be. They probably have super cool vehicles to fly in heaven.
And this is where I start reminding myself to focus on what is directly ahead of me. I haven't even begun my next adventure to the Pacific, and I am already thinking of my next one. Slow down, my soul, you have time enough!
See? I always get so far ahead of myself.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Seventh Post -- Australia!
Here it is. What you've all been clicking on that bookmarked link to my blog for. Maybe that's just you, Christian. That's right, I know you're reading this. I do go off on tangents easily, don't I?
Anyways, I'm going to Australia! I have the tickets! I leave May 8th, out of Lovefield airport in Dallas. I'm very excited to fly again. I decided to do this sometime last year, mid-December. Now it is happening. Isn't that cool? It's definitely not by my sheer will that I'm going. It cannot be, or else I'll only have about $600 dollars for the next nine or so months of my life.
Which is where you poor people come in. I figure most of you that read my blog are fairly poor. And that is not a bad thing, I don't think less of you. How could I, I'm the one asking for your money?! I just think it is really cool when poor people give away money, even small amounts. What I'm trying to say here is that I will think you are really cool if you support me. Wouldn't that be a treat? I could even handwrite a note and sign it saying "Palmer think's (insert your name here) is really cool," that you could keep in your wallet at all times. Then, when you feel humiliated or depressed, you can take that out and show it to yourself or even someone else who is talking smack about you. That would shut them up. Not that I endorse retaliation or disdain for people that talk smack about you. I say love them back, and by that humiliate them.
Back to the broad chain of thought, I have a newsletter down below for you to read. I wrote a very rough draft, sent it to my journalist mother, and got this back. That's insider information too. Only the proud few who read my blog know that my newsletter is greatly edited and better-ited by my parents. So read it, tell me what you think, and send me some money -- or just pray for me. Prayer is a huge thing, so if you don't feel led to give any money, at least intercede on my behalf every now and then. Jesus loves when we pray for others.
"First of all, I would like to thank all of you who have prayed for me and supported me during my initialphase of missionary training at Youth With A Mission (YWAM) Denver Discipleship Training School (DTS.) Our outreach to Northern Ireland/Republic of Ireland was an amazing time of sharing God’s love through service, music, and friendships. I learned so much about God and his love for us, and I am eager to share this with others. It is humbling and amazing to realize that God can use an 18-year-old guy like me in His service!
I’ve been praying about what’s next for me, and am excited to announce that I’ll be joining YWAM Marine Reach on the MV Pacific Link Ship Tour. During my DTS, I heard about this medical ship based in Townsville, Queensland that is first touring 16 cities along the coast of Australia to engage youth to be more missions-focused and providing them with training opportunities to help them share their faith. Then the ship is making its way up to the Gulf Province of Papua New Guinea (PNG) to provide health care and community development to people in one of the world’s most rural and needy locations. The ship is equipped with an onboard operating room, and volunteer doctors, nurses, ship crew, and more are helping to address some of the Papua New Guinea's greatest health challenges such as malaria, HIV, and maternal and infant mortality rates. Please watch the YWAM Australia & PNG Ship Tour Video at:
http:// www.ywamships.org/
My jobs will be diverse, my living conditions challenging. I will be helping out with public relations, ship tours, and lights/sound set-up for events held in port along the tour. Then, when we head to PNG for the medical mission part of the tour, I will be involved with everyday jobs necessary to keep the ship in working order and going on outreaches into villages to spread God’s Kingdom through relationships and medi-cal aid. I am excited to be able to follow Jesus’ example of compassion to those in need, and especially to the people of PNG, where I spent much of my childhood (plus I just might get to see my parents while I’m there!)
Currently I am back in Tyler, Texas and got my part-time job back at Mazzio’s Pizza. During this transition I do need your continued prayers! I am in the process of raising support for my time as volunteer staff with YWAM Townsville. I need to raise $5,000, so I only need fifty people to donate $100 each! Will you beone of the fifty?
Thanks again for your continued prayers and support. I cannot do this work without partners like you!
In His Service, Palmer
If God puts it on your heart to support my work, please send your tax deductible donation via a check made payable to: Hope Alliance, PO Box 133165, Tyler, TX 75713, with a note attached that is it for Palmer Bandy's ministry. AND if you have time to visit with me, I would love to share more about all this with you personally - you can call me at the number below. Also, if you want to keep up with what I'm doing, send me an email at palmerbandy@gmail.com letting me know to put you on my mailing list!"
If you guy's want the .pdf file, this is the link. It is better formatted and has some cool colors and pictures for you to admire.
http://dl.dropbox.com/u/4994230/Palmer%20Newsletter%20April%202010%20%281%29.pdf
Anyways, I'm going to Australia! I have the tickets! I leave May 8th, out of Lovefield airport in Dallas. I'm very excited to fly again. I decided to do this sometime last year, mid-December. Now it is happening. Isn't that cool? It's definitely not by my sheer will that I'm going. It cannot be, or else I'll only have about $600 dollars for the next nine or so months of my life.
Which is where you poor people come in. I figure most of you that read my blog are fairly poor. And that is not a bad thing, I don't think less of you. How could I, I'm the one asking for your money?! I just think it is really cool when poor people give away money, even small amounts. What I'm trying to say here is that I will think you are really cool if you support me. Wouldn't that be a treat? I could even handwrite a note and sign it saying "Palmer think's (insert your name here) is really cool," that you could keep in your wallet at all times. Then, when you feel humiliated or depressed, you can take that out and show it to yourself or even someone else who is talking smack about you. That would shut them up. Not that I endorse retaliation or disdain for people that talk smack about you. I say love them back, and by that humiliate them.
Back to the broad chain of thought, I have a newsletter down below for you to read. I wrote a very rough draft, sent it to my journalist mother, and got this back. That's insider information too. Only the proud few who read my blog know that my newsletter is greatly edited and better-ited by my parents. So read it, tell me what you think, and send me some money -- or just pray for me. Prayer is a huge thing, so if you don't feel led to give any money, at least intercede on my behalf every now and then. Jesus loves when we pray for others.
"First of all, I would like to thank all of you who have prayed for me and supported me during my initialphase of missionary training at Youth With A Mission (YWAM) Denver Discipleship Training School (DTS.) Our outreach to Northern Ireland/Republic of Ireland was an amazing time of sharing God’s love through service, music, and friendships. I learned so much about God and his love for us, and I am eager to share this with others. It is humbling and amazing to realize that God can use an 18-year-old guy like me in His service!
I’ve been praying about what’s next for me, and am excited to announce that I’ll be joining YWAM Marine Reach on the MV Pacific Link Ship Tour. During my DTS, I heard about this medical ship based in Townsville, Queensland that is first touring 16 cities along the coast of Australia to engage youth to be more missions-focused and providing them with training opportunities to help them share their faith. Then the ship is making its way up to the Gulf Province of Papua New Guinea (PNG) to provide health care and community development to people in one of the world’s most rural and needy locations. The ship is equipped with an onboard operating room, and volunteer doctors, nurses, ship crew, and more are helping to address some of the Papua New Guinea's greatest health challenges such as malaria, HIV, and maternal and infant mortality rates. Please watch the YWAM Australia & PNG Ship Tour Video at:
http:// www.ywamships.org/
My jobs will be diverse, my living conditions challenging. I will be helping out with public relations, ship tours, and lights/sound set-up for events held in port along the tour. Then, when we head to PNG for the medical mission part of the tour, I will be involved with everyday jobs necessary to keep the ship in working order and going on outreaches into villages to spread God’s Kingdom through relationships and medi-cal aid. I am excited to be able to follow Jesus’ example of compassion to those in need, and especially to the people of PNG, where I spent much of my childhood (plus I just might get to see my parents while I’m there!)
Currently I am back in Tyler, Texas and got my part-time job back at Mazzio’s Pizza. During this transition I do need your continued prayers! I am in the process of raising support for my time as volunteer staff with YWAM Townsville. I need to raise $5,000, so I only need fifty people to donate $100 each! Will you beone of the fifty?
Thanks again for your continued prayers and support. I cannot do this work without partners like you!
In His Service, Palmer
If God puts it on your heart to support my work, please send your tax deductible donation via a check made payable to: Hope Alliance, PO Box 133165, Tyler, TX 75713, with a note attached that is it for Palmer Bandy's ministry. AND if you have time to visit with me, I would love to share more about all this with you personally - you can call me at the number below. Also, if you want to keep up with what I'm doing, send me an email at palmerbandy@gmail.com letting me know to put you on my mailing list!"
If you guy's want the .pdf file, this is the link. It is better formatted and has some cool colors and pictures for you to admire.
http://dl.dropbox.com/u/4994230/Palmer%20Newsletter%20April%202010%20%281%29.pdf
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Sixth Post
Well, I'm back. What an unexpected adventure. An explanation is necessary.
On Saturday, April 3rd, Matt and I embarked on our adventure to Arkansas at about 7:30am. I drove for the first 3 hours, then Matt took over for the next. While I was driving, about an hour out of Tyler I was thinking of what I could have forgotten for our hike and realized that I had forgotten nothing! It was quite a good feeling. But then I realized that there was still a part of the trip that would not be spent hiking -- driving. It's good to have your driver's license on you when you're road tripping for 7 hours, let alone 12 hours. More on that later though. Basically I realized that I forgot my wallet. So I quickly pressed on the brake to stop the cruise control set at eighty-five and changed it to the sixty-five MPH speed limit. HA! Come now, I don't set my cruise control that far above the speed limit! Ridiculous. But we made it to Pelsor, AR un-pulled over and quite ready to start hiking, but we still had two hours to go. After about 45 minutes of waiting, Nick, Kyle and Drew showed up to take us to the beginning of the trail, two hours away. It was a long drive through windy roads, the first half of which we thought we were lost (but kept going in the hopes that we weren't), with few enough gas stations to excite (worry?)us when we got close to empty. Long story short, they got us to where we wanted to be.
We were both tired, so we decided to camp out that night and start hiking Easter morning. We tried fishing. We failed at fishing. "Neighbor" campers (people in an RV) were kind enough to give us food for dinner and breakfast. Let me know if you want details. So Sunday morning we start hiking. The first two miles suck, so a break was necessary and shorts were put on. We crossed a big river, which was exciting. Then at mile seven we stopped for lunch. Mile seven at lunchtime was making very good time. The last four miles were bad, to say the least. A lot of uphill huffing and puffing. At the end of our first day, we had gone eleven miles and found a cool campsite by a river, so we set up our tent and ran off to hang our bear bags. Bear bags suck. It took us at least an hour to put up two bear bags. TWO. Just to throw a rope over a tree branch and pull it up. SIXTY!! Minutes, I mean. Isn't that ridiculous? It was to us, especially when we were hungry and tired. I get whiny when I'm hungry and tired. Whiny and cranky. Just ask Matt. But, it's amazing how food and Palmer interact so intimately. After I ate my dinner I became myself again. Food became energy. Energy became happiness. Palmer was happy after eating food. Then we sat down and contemplated what we could possibly get rid of from our packs to make them lighter. Forty plus pounds on your back for eleven miles is not cool. I left about 10 of my Snickers behind. Some tuna packets, the two books I brought, a shirt, thermal and some crappy socks. We went to sleep right after sundown, and woke up sometime. A bit after sunrise probably. Ate oatmeal, got our dumb bear bags, and packed up the tent.
The second day we were pacing ourselves quite well, when after eight miles, speeding down a steep and rocky path, Matt sprained his ankle. It was probably my fault. I was in front setting the pace. Either way, we couldn't continue on. We prayed for it, asking God to heal it. Nothing happened. Prayed again because I didn't want to be "ye of little faith," and again, nothing happened. I figured God would surprise us the next morning. Well, He did. Nothing had happened. I can't explain why God didn't heal his ankle. It would have been really cool, and I would have said thank you like my parents taught me to, but He had different plans for us. We slowly hiked back one and a half(ish) miles to a campground we passed. This is where we stayed for three and a half days: http://www.whiterockmountain.com/
Upon arrival at the campground, we asked the lady in charge if campsites were free or not. She said it was ten dollars a night. We didn't have any cash though. But, I had been reading 2nd Thessalonian's the night before, where Paul talks about working so as not to be a burden.
"For you yourselves know how you ought to follow our example. We were not idle when we were with you, nor did we eat anyone's food without paying for it. On the contrary, we worked night and day, laboring and toiling so that we would not be a burden to any of you. We did this, not because we do not have the right to such help, but in order to make ourselves a model for you to follow. For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: "If a man will not work, he shall not eat." 3:7-10
So I suggested that we offer her our work as payment instead of money. So we sheepishly walked up to her front door, rang the door bell and waited. When she came out, we explained our situation in full and asked if we could work for our campsite to which she replied, "I'm sure I can find something for you guys to do -- I have a lot of sticks in my yard that need to be picked up so that I can mow it." So Matt wobbled around her yard picking up sticks while I hiked back down the trail to get his backpack. When I got back, I helped him finish up stacking wood for her stove inside, and then we went back to our campsite. The next day we cleaned out a few of the campsites fire pits, then worked for five hours splitting logs with her hydraulic log splitter. She fed us pizza that night, and gave us Dr. Pepper. Her name is Paula, by the way. A very nice lady indeed. This was Wednesday night. Then on Thursday morning we were finishing up the rest of the logs when Matt re-sprained his ankle. So we were done for the day. Nick and Walker rescued us the next morning after getting themselves lost for a couple hours in the back roads of Arkansas. To their credit, those roads are pathetically lacking in signs. The ride back to Matt's car was fairly uneventful. We got there, jumped Matt's car because it wasn't turning over, then started the drive to College of the Ozarks in Branson. We were following Nick and Walker for about an hour when their car broke down. It wasn't anything we could fix on the fly, so they hopped in our car and we kept on driving. Upon arrival in Branson, we took the boys to work, showered, ate a dehydrated meal dinner, smoked a pipe, printed out directions to Ryan's house in Ohio -- wait a second. I didn't mention that, did I? Yep, we road tripped to Ohio. I guess it was Thursday night that we called Ryan and asked him if we could come up and stay with him for a few days. He and his parents said yes, so our decision was set in stone. We would drive twelve hours out of our way to see friends. Both Ryan, AND Lauren. If you know me from PNG, you know them; if not, they are part of my best friend clan. They are people that I will be good friends with until one of us dies. So twelve hours and seventy dollars in gas meant little to me. It actually sounded very exciting to drive through the night after being up for an entire day, still without a license. So, around ten at night we started our next journey to Ohio. I drove first again. This is actually relevant, despite its seeming unimportance. Matt stayed up with me while I was driving. Which meant when he was driving, he had been up for a very long time. Supposedly we almost died. I was sleeping, so I didn't really care. It would've been nice to die in my sleep. I guess Matt was falling asleep at the wheel when a cop pulled us over for tailgating. He almost gave me a citation for not wearing my seatbelt in the passenger's seat, but let us both off with a warning. Matt says he doesn't even remember tailgating, or even seeing the cop until he saw the lights in his rear view mirror. So the cop saved our lives? I'm sure God played a big part in that.
Anyways, we got to Sunbury, Ohio fine and reunited with Ryan. We went straight to Tim Horton's about twenty minutes before he got off work, and sat around in the parking lot waiting. While we were sitting there, some girl asked us who we were and said she knew us. Supposedly when we were in Sunbury seven months ago, we met her in the parking lot of Kroger's, and she remembered us? We were too tired to really care.
Basically, I could write for another hour detailing everything we did, but I'm not going to. We jammed, ate, smoked cigars by a lake, hung out with Lauren and hit up the Giant Eagle for free samples. Basically, it was a very good time. We chilled a lot. Then Matt and I drove the sixteen hours back to Tyler, TX. That's about it for now.
I didn't get to kill any bears. I didn't even see one. But I did use my Khukri knife! It chops wood extremely well. It's still dirty from chopping wood, actually. I need to clean it. Nevertheless, I'm happy that I saw Ryan and Lauren and experienced driving for more than 3 hours at a time before I leave for Australia.
That, by the way, is coming up next.
On Saturday, April 3rd, Matt and I embarked on our adventure to Arkansas at about 7:30am. I drove for the first 3 hours, then Matt took over for the next. While I was driving, about an hour out of Tyler I was thinking of what I could have forgotten for our hike and realized that I had forgotten nothing! It was quite a good feeling. But then I realized that there was still a part of the trip that would not be spent hiking -- driving. It's good to have your driver's license on you when you're road tripping for 7 hours, let alone 12 hours. More on that later though. Basically I realized that I forgot my wallet. So I quickly pressed on the brake to stop the cruise control set at eighty-five and changed it to the sixty-five MPH speed limit. HA! Come now, I don't set my cruise control that far above the speed limit! Ridiculous. But we made it to Pelsor, AR un-pulled over and quite ready to start hiking, but we still had two hours to go. After about 45 minutes of waiting, Nick, Kyle and Drew showed up to take us to the beginning of the trail, two hours away. It was a long drive through windy roads, the first half of which we thought we were lost (but kept going in the hopes that we weren't), with few enough gas stations to excite (worry?)us when we got close to empty. Long story short, they got us to where we wanted to be.
We were both tired, so we decided to camp out that night and start hiking Easter morning. We tried fishing. We failed at fishing. "Neighbor" campers (people in an RV) were kind enough to give us food for dinner and breakfast. Let me know if you want details. So Sunday morning we start hiking. The first two miles suck, so a break was necessary and shorts were put on. We crossed a big river, which was exciting. Then at mile seven we stopped for lunch. Mile seven at lunchtime was making very good time. The last four miles were bad, to say the least. A lot of uphill huffing and puffing. At the end of our first day, we had gone eleven miles and found a cool campsite by a river, so we set up our tent and ran off to hang our bear bags. Bear bags suck. It took us at least an hour to put up two bear bags. TWO. Just to throw a rope over a tree branch and pull it up. SIXTY!! Minutes, I mean. Isn't that ridiculous? It was to us, especially when we were hungry and tired. I get whiny when I'm hungry and tired. Whiny and cranky. Just ask Matt. But, it's amazing how food and Palmer interact so intimately. After I ate my dinner I became myself again. Food became energy. Energy became happiness. Palmer was happy after eating food. Then we sat down and contemplated what we could possibly get rid of from our packs to make them lighter. Forty plus pounds on your back for eleven miles is not cool. I left about 10 of my Snickers behind. Some tuna packets, the two books I brought, a shirt, thermal and some crappy socks. We went to sleep right after sundown, and woke up sometime. A bit after sunrise probably. Ate oatmeal, got our dumb bear bags, and packed up the tent.
The second day we were pacing ourselves quite well, when after eight miles, speeding down a steep and rocky path, Matt sprained his ankle. It was probably my fault. I was in front setting the pace. Either way, we couldn't continue on. We prayed for it, asking God to heal it. Nothing happened. Prayed again because I didn't want to be "ye of little faith," and again, nothing happened. I figured God would surprise us the next morning. Well, He did. Nothing had happened. I can't explain why God didn't heal his ankle. It would have been really cool, and I would have said thank you like my parents taught me to, but He had different plans for us. We slowly hiked back one and a half(ish) miles to a campground we passed. This is where we stayed for three and a half days: http://www.whiterockmountain.com/
Upon arrival at the campground, we asked the lady in charge if campsites were free or not. She said it was ten dollars a night. We didn't have any cash though. But, I had been reading 2nd Thessalonian's the night before, where Paul talks about working so as not to be a burden.
"For you yourselves know how you ought to follow our example. We were not idle when we were with you, nor did we eat anyone's food without paying for it. On the contrary, we worked night and day, laboring and toiling so that we would not be a burden to any of you. We did this, not because we do not have the right to such help, but in order to make ourselves a model for you to follow. For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: "If a man will not work, he shall not eat." 3:7-10
So I suggested that we offer her our work as payment instead of money. So we sheepishly walked up to her front door, rang the door bell and waited. When she came out, we explained our situation in full and asked if we could work for our campsite to which she replied, "I'm sure I can find something for you guys to do -- I have a lot of sticks in my yard that need to be picked up so that I can mow it." So Matt wobbled around her yard picking up sticks while I hiked back down the trail to get his backpack. When I got back, I helped him finish up stacking wood for her stove inside, and then we went back to our campsite. The next day we cleaned out a few of the campsites fire pits, then worked for five hours splitting logs with her hydraulic log splitter. She fed us pizza that night, and gave us Dr. Pepper. Her name is Paula, by the way. A very nice lady indeed. This was Wednesday night. Then on Thursday morning we were finishing up the rest of the logs when Matt re-sprained his ankle. So we were done for the day. Nick and Walker rescued us the next morning after getting themselves lost for a couple hours in the back roads of Arkansas. To their credit, those roads are pathetically lacking in signs. The ride back to Matt's car was fairly uneventful. We got there, jumped Matt's car because it wasn't turning over, then started the drive to College of the Ozarks in Branson. We were following Nick and Walker for about an hour when their car broke down. It wasn't anything we could fix on the fly, so they hopped in our car and we kept on driving. Upon arrival in Branson, we took the boys to work, showered, ate a dehydrated meal dinner, smoked a pipe, printed out directions to Ryan's house in Ohio -- wait a second. I didn't mention that, did I? Yep, we road tripped to Ohio. I guess it was Thursday night that we called Ryan and asked him if we could come up and stay with him for a few days. He and his parents said yes, so our decision was set in stone. We would drive twelve hours out of our way to see friends. Both Ryan, AND Lauren. If you know me from PNG, you know them; if not, they are part of my best friend clan. They are people that I will be good friends with until one of us dies. So twelve hours and seventy dollars in gas meant little to me. It actually sounded very exciting to drive through the night after being up for an entire day, still without a license. So, around ten at night we started our next journey to Ohio. I drove first again. This is actually relevant, despite its seeming unimportance. Matt stayed up with me while I was driving. Which meant when he was driving, he had been up for a very long time. Supposedly we almost died. I was sleeping, so I didn't really care. It would've been nice to die in my sleep. I guess Matt was falling asleep at the wheel when a cop pulled us over for tailgating. He almost gave me a citation for not wearing my seatbelt in the passenger's seat, but let us both off with a warning. Matt says he doesn't even remember tailgating, or even seeing the cop until he saw the lights in his rear view mirror. So the cop saved our lives? I'm sure God played a big part in that.
Anyways, we got to Sunbury, Ohio fine and reunited with Ryan. We went straight to Tim Horton's about twenty minutes before he got off work, and sat around in the parking lot waiting. While we were sitting there, some girl asked us who we were and said she knew us. Supposedly when we were in Sunbury seven months ago, we met her in the parking lot of Kroger's, and she remembered us? We were too tired to really care.
Basically, I could write for another hour detailing everything we did, but I'm not going to. We jammed, ate, smoked cigars by a lake, hung out with Lauren and hit up the Giant Eagle for free samples. Basically, it was a very good time. We chilled a lot. Then Matt and I drove the sixteen hours back to Tyler, TX. That's about it for now.
I didn't get to kill any bears. I didn't even see one. But I did use my Khukri knife! It chops wood extremely well. It's still dirty from chopping wood, actually. I need to clean it. Nevertheless, I'm happy that I saw Ryan and Lauren and experienced driving for more than 3 hours at a time before I leave for Australia.
That, by the way, is coming up next.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Fifth Post
I'm leaving for a little while. My time has come. It's been an adventure, but there's more to come. A winding trail beckons all my attention, and my heart is yearning for a charge; a mission. I've been mostly happy, tears have their place; but now comes the time when I truly seek God's face. No phone to distract me, no Facebook, just nature. A bear to remind me of my wild Creator. Let's ride.
Anyways, I didn't intend to write that. But when I said there's more to come, and it rhymed with... my time has come. DANG IT! I didn't even notice that! I just thought, "hey cool, that rhymed as I read it in my head..."
Whatever, I took five minutes to write it, so it's staying.
We're leaving tomorrow morning at 7:00. Waking up at 5:30 to actually be awake when we drive and check over last minute things -- make sure we have all our food, clothes, and compasses. We also have knives. I'm actually taking my khukri knife that I got in Nepal, simply because I have never had any use for it, and now I want to kill a bear with it. It may not be extremely practical, but I feel really cool with it. It's about a foot long with the curved blade, and it has a cool black leather sheath that looks like it's handmade, because it was. I wear it on my belt -- on my left side, because I'm right handed. Sometimes when no one is watching, I'll take it out of its sheath real quick and hold it up above my head and then slash the air with it a couple times. I really want it to hit something though, because I'm never satisfied using more strength to stop the down stroke than to start it. Also, we each have a one gallon Ziploc bag full of trail mix. I love trail mix. We mixed tropical and indulgent. Tropical has lots of fruit in it, like apricots and papaya and pineapple. And indulgent has chocolate in it -- dark chocolate chips, white chocolate chips, and surprisingly, I'm most excited about the peanut butter chips. I don't know why, but I want those peanut butter chips. I've been exercising great self control in not eating that trail mix. I took one small handful a few days ago, but that's it. We also have 30 Snicker's bars each. I can't wait for the Snicker's. We get to eat two a day; one in the morning, one in the afternoon for two weeks. For some reason I don't think I'll get sick of Snicker's, but we'll see. For dinner's we spent a lot of time dehydrating vegetables and beef. We have individual bagged meals that we have to soak for ten minutes, bring to a boil, and then let sit for another 10 minutes. We tested one out the other night. It had brown rice, mixed veggies, and beef, and it turned out perfect. I'm sure we'll take pictures of all our food while we're eating it. We're those kind of guys.
Enough about food and knives. We'll be on the Ozarks Highlands Trail, starting at Lake Fort Smith, Arkansas and ending at the Fairview trail head, one hundred and twenty five miles away, still in Arkansas. Matt and I know that it will be hard. We have probably overestimated our capabilities, and we'll probably whine and complain a lot about how sore our shoulders are. Our feet will never get sore though, we both have wool socks and lower end hiking boots. But we're prepared to be pathetically unprepared. Mentally, at least. It's a test of our abilities. A battle of wits, nature being our worthy opponent. Who will win?
Honestly, I think we will. We'll make it out alive. We will smell horrible, be exhausted, and probably curse the trail behind us, but accomplishment will cover all of these. It's a mini life until death, really. Though we labor and toil through life, come the end of it, our accomplishment will be immensely rewarding. I look forward to a taste of that -- I believe it will strengthen my resolve to finish. This life holds much more unfinished business.
So, if you think of us, pray for us. I'm not taking these two weeks for granted. They are an amazing opportunity for me to give my undivided attention to God and His voice, and I expect Him to speak to me clearly. I want to come out on the other side stronger in my faith, more confident in the goodness and mercy of Christ, and meekly nearer to His heart.
Expect an awesome post when I get back two weeks from now. Hopefully I'll have many stories of what happened in the physical, as well as what happened spiritually and emotionally. My friend and assistant manager, Christian, thinks that Matt and I could write a small book after these two weeks. Depending on what goes on, we may just do that.
Well, I'm off to eat and then sleep. Stay happy, read Matthew 29 if it exists, and thank God that pooping is enjoyable. Isn't it though? Don't lie, everyone likes it.
Anyways, I didn't intend to write that. But when I said there's more to come, and it rhymed with... my time has come. DANG IT! I didn't even notice that! I just thought, "hey cool, that rhymed as I read it in my head..."
Whatever, I took five minutes to write it, so it's staying.
We're leaving tomorrow morning at 7:00. Waking up at 5:30 to actually be awake when we drive and check over last minute things -- make sure we have all our food, clothes, and compasses. We also have knives. I'm actually taking my khukri knife that I got in Nepal, simply because I have never had any use for it, and now I want to kill a bear with it. It may not be extremely practical, but I feel really cool with it. It's about a foot long with the curved blade, and it has a cool black leather sheath that looks like it's handmade, because it was. I wear it on my belt -- on my left side, because I'm right handed. Sometimes when no one is watching, I'll take it out of its sheath real quick and hold it up above my head and then slash the air with it a couple times. I really want it to hit something though, because I'm never satisfied using more strength to stop the down stroke than to start it. Also, we each have a one gallon Ziploc bag full of trail mix. I love trail mix. We mixed tropical and indulgent. Tropical has lots of fruit in it, like apricots and papaya and pineapple. And indulgent has chocolate in it -- dark chocolate chips, white chocolate chips, and surprisingly, I'm most excited about the peanut butter chips. I don't know why, but I want those peanut butter chips. I've been exercising great self control in not eating that trail mix. I took one small handful a few days ago, but that's it. We also have 30 Snicker's bars each. I can't wait for the Snicker's. We get to eat two a day; one in the morning, one in the afternoon for two weeks. For some reason I don't think I'll get sick of Snicker's, but we'll see. For dinner's we spent a lot of time dehydrating vegetables and beef. We have individual bagged meals that we have to soak for ten minutes, bring to a boil, and then let sit for another 10 minutes. We tested one out the other night. It had brown rice, mixed veggies, and beef, and it turned out perfect. I'm sure we'll take pictures of all our food while we're eating it. We're those kind of guys.
Enough about food and knives. We'll be on the Ozarks Highlands Trail, starting at Lake Fort Smith, Arkansas and ending at the Fairview trail head, one hundred and twenty five miles away, still in Arkansas. Matt and I know that it will be hard. We have probably overestimated our capabilities, and we'll probably whine and complain a lot about how sore our shoulders are. Our feet will never get sore though, we both have wool socks and lower end hiking boots. But we're prepared to be pathetically unprepared. Mentally, at least. It's a test of our abilities. A battle of wits, nature being our worthy opponent. Who will win?
Honestly, I think we will. We'll make it out alive. We will smell horrible, be exhausted, and probably curse the trail behind us, but accomplishment will cover all of these. It's a mini life until death, really. Though we labor and toil through life, come the end of it, our accomplishment will be immensely rewarding. I look forward to a taste of that -- I believe it will strengthen my resolve to finish. This life holds much more unfinished business.
So, if you think of us, pray for us. I'm not taking these two weeks for granted. They are an amazing opportunity for me to give my undivided attention to God and His voice, and I expect Him to speak to me clearly. I want to come out on the other side stronger in my faith, more confident in the goodness and mercy of Christ, and meekly nearer to His heart.
Expect an awesome post when I get back two weeks from now. Hopefully I'll have many stories of what happened in the physical, as well as what happened spiritually and emotionally. My friend and assistant manager, Christian, thinks that Matt and I could write a small book after these two weeks. Depending on what goes on, we may just do that.
Well, I'm off to eat and then sleep. Stay happy, read Matthew 29 if it exists, and thank God that pooping is enjoyable. Isn't it though? Don't lie, everyone likes it.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Fourth Post
I know, I know. I need cooler titles for my entries, but I'm not that creative. I use enough brain energy writing anything in the first place. That's why this post is going to suck! Because I'm going to use little to no brain energy to write it. I might even asldkja;slkjfja; alfkjas fls;flj aeiopqwcnmalskf asljasfa.sjvo;qpofiutrewrt02873098 982e90r8092 8.a02u9r42tug vcnz/>JJF;IAUFEYU897T709UIJ
Well, that was freeing. Liberating even. I was just laying in bed, trying to get to sleep, and I was thinking about how much time I spend on this computer. Too much. I thought of how circumstance unquestionably influences my need for this computer. While I was in my DTS, I did not worry about not having been on Facebook for the day, or not checking my email in the last 6 hours. It was beautiful. In Ireland I rarely got on a computer, and if I did it was only for 30 minutes or less.
I was absolutely fine.
Why do I "need" these cyber social outlets so much?? Is it a need for community? Is it legitimate, or just an addiction? Let's be honest, it is an addiction. I won't try to justify it at all. I do have an abnormally strong craving for Facebook and as psychologically pathetic that may sound, it is true. But the reason I say that circumstance unquestionably influences this addiction is because I know that when I am tromping through the wilderness three days from now, no technology but a cell phone for emergency, I will not care about getting on Facebook or checking my Gmail. It will be me, Matt, God and our backpacks. The beauty of creation surrounding us, and the thrill of fighting black bears as they attack us from every angle. I'm terribly excited to fight and defeat a black bear. Please, Jesus.
Anyways, I got a little sidetracked with the bear fighting dreams. Think about your situation for a second. What is the real reason you get on Facebook? Is it to healthily socialize with your friends, or to live off of other people's lives like a leech? I know that far too often I scroll through the homepage, looking at all of the boring statuses, waiting for one that interests me for more than a second so that I can click on that profile and suck satisfaction from a computer screen. That's not how I'm meant to work. I was created for a reason, with a plan for my life that would be wild, great, and full of my Father in Heaven. My satisfaction does not come from Facebook activity or how many emails I get in one day! How absurd!
So get off of Facebook, go outside, and breathe in life. Take a walk, go for a jog, ride your bike, cruise with the windows open, run around in circles screaming, do something that makes you feel alive! Don't settle for less. Give your heart a reason to beat!
Well, that was freeing. Liberating even. I was just laying in bed, trying to get to sleep, and I was thinking about how much time I spend on this computer. Too much. I thought of how circumstance unquestionably influences my need for this computer. While I was in my DTS, I did not worry about not having been on Facebook for the day, or not checking my email in the last 6 hours. It was beautiful. In Ireland I rarely got on a computer, and if I did it was only for 30 minutes or less.
I was absolutely fine.
Why do I "need" these cyber social outlets so much?? Is it a need for community? Is it legitimate, or just an addiction? Let's be honest, it is an addiction. I won't try to justify it at all. I do have an abnormally strong craving for Facebook and as psychologically pathetic that may sound, it is true. But the reason I say that circumstance unquestionably influences this addiction is because I know that when I am tromping through the wilderness three days from now, no technology but a cell phone for emergency, I will not care about getting on Facebook or checking my Gmail. It will be me, Matt, God and our backpacks. The beauty of creation surrounding us, and the thrill of fighting black bears as they attack us from every angle. I'm terribly excited to fight and defeat a black bear. Please, Jesus.
Anyways, I got a little sidetracked with the bear fighting dreams. Think about your situation for a second. What is the real reason you get on Facebook? Is it to healthily socialize with your friends, or to live off of other people's lives like a leech? I know that far too often I scroll through the homepage, looking at all of the boring statuses, waiting for one that interests me for more than a second so that I can click on that profile and suck satisfaction from a computer screen. That's not how I'm meant to work. I was created for a reason, with a plan for my life that would be wild, great, and full of my Father in Heaven. My satisfaction does not come from Facebook activity or how many emails I get in one day! How absurd!
So get off of Facebook, go outside, and breathe in life. Take a walk, go for a jog, ride your bike, cruise with the windows open, run around in circles screaming, do something that makes you feel alive! Don't settle for less. Give your heart a reason to beat!
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