(8:30 P.M. Fifty Nifty Time)
I would like to quickly talk about my thoughts as I am on my way to Iceland (our first stop before Germany). I’m aware that you all will be reading this a good amount of time after I land in Frankfurt, but I’d still like to share a bit with you.
I was sitting in an aisle seat, leaning over my two seatmates who seem to only speak Icelandic, watching the ground fall beneath us when I was struck with the thought, “Whoa. This is the last time I’ll see Minneapolis, Minnesota, The Fifty Nifty for three months.” I kept trying to tell my eyes to appreciate that more, but they didn’t care; they’ve seen it millions of times.
And now, as I type this, I am sitting in a seat that is more uncomfortable than any other plane seat I’ve sat in. (Maybe they have stronger butts in Iceland…I would kill for one about now.) I finally unpopped my ears, which was a stressful ordeal.
Four hours to Iceland. No big deal.
I suppose I should talk about my spiritual reasons for this trip. I haven’t at all so far, I don’t think; I’ve been too stressed out to get into that.
There’s something sad.
It’s been sort of a tough year. Don’t get me wrong, it has been great, but it’s also been quite a tough year. As most of you know I was diagnosed with clinical depression over the summer, while continually dealing with an anxiety disorder. New medication for the depression itself, combined with my irresponsibility to take it everyday like I should, adds up to Brian going through emotional peaks and valleys. During the worst of it, I damaged a few relationships with friends that at this time are still being mended. My grades dropped, which is scary when one has a scholarship that is dependent on his GPA. Also, as it seems to always happen, my relationship with God has been faltering.
I’m glad to say now that I am now consistent with my medication and worked, toward the end of the year, to fix my grade problem. Things are looking up, but I am currently suffering from a “spiritual hangover” that does not seem to go away.
And now, as a remedy to that, I have decided to plop myself on a different continent, all alone, hardly able to speak any foreign language.
Oh, and I don’t have a lot of money.
So what do I want from this trip besides a wonderful cultural experience? I dunno.
Will I find God?
Will I not find God?
We’ll see. One thing I know is that He’s there. Well, He’s here. Location has nothing to do with it.
And I will have a lot of thinking time. Perhaps that means worship time. Or meditating time. Or spiritually wrestling time. Or repenting time.
God, I hope so.
Whenever I have been pushed to my limits, God has been there for me. I have always been able to find some sort of rest in the loving hands of my Father.
So this is a retreat. A crazy, summer-long retreat. And God’s coming. Maybe I’ll see Him. I’ll be looking.
If anything, I hope to focus in on fixing our relationship. Well, I mean, our relationship has already been fixed by the Cross, now I just have to make it so it’s not awkward to talk to Him about it.
Talk to you in Germany.