From the high school archives

Recently I was cleaning up old files on my computer, and in doing so found a story I had written in high school. I'm not even sure how this file still exists, but somehow it made its way from a floppy disc and through several other computers to my current laptop. Anyway, this was the result of an assignment for my AP English class. It's certainly written by a high schooler, but amusing nonetheless...it's also the only fiction piece I've ever written.

I got a kick out of reading it...maybe you will too.

April 2002

I've always hated funerals. Seems like long ago I was told that when a man dies, his life was supposed to be celebrated, not mourned. I especially hate this funeral; even though it is for my hero. As the preacher gives the eulogy, I look around. Family and friends whom I see only on an occasion such as this are sobbing uncontrollably. I can't bring myself to grieve. Perhaps that is because I'm 84 years old, and I know I may not be far behind Lawrence. Perhaps it is because I know that he wouldn't want me to. He'd want me to be strong, but more importantly, he'd want me to celebrate what he did in his life, not long for his return. Lawrence James Callahan was the oldest of 6 boys. That leaves me, Merle Robert Callahan, the oldest left.

We were born into a poor, but loving family in Craig County Virginia. Daddy was a preacher at the Craig Church of Christ, and Mama took care of her 6 children, so money wasn't plentiful, but we got by. We never got big birthday presents, but when each of us turned 18, Daddy bought us a knife and had our initials engraved in the back. Getting that knife was almost like a rite of passage to adulthood for the Callahan boys. Lawrence was always ambitious, so he enrolled in the military at in 1858 at age 18. I had always looked up to my brother. My father was my role model, but Lawrence was who I wanted to be like. Mama and Daddy always taught us to look out for one another, and we did. At the schoolhouse, or anywhere we were, we looked after our 4 younger brothers, but for each other also. If there was ever a scrap between one of the Callahan boys and another kid, look out, because there's bound to be 5 other Callahans coming. Lawrence and I always said we'd put our lives on the line for one another, though neither of us ever thought that would ever actually happen, we did mean it. Lawrence went off to the Army, and I was ready to do the same on my 18th birthday. But, between the time Lawrence went off, and I was ready to join, the country got in a big uproar. The South seceded from the Union, and the Civil War began. Daddy talked about how it was important to defend our home, and how we were fighting for state's rights. I wasn't exactly sure of the political side of it, but I knew that I had to defend my home. Lawrence had been gone for some time now, and Daddy hadn't been well, so I had been looking after the family. I couldn't turn my back on Daddy, Mama, and my 4 younger brothers. General Lee himself, in his resignation from the Union Army said that he found it impossible to turn his back on his home and family, even though he agreed with some of the politics of the North. I had to defend my home, but what about Lawrence? He was fighting against me. How could he stay there? Years later he told me that he couldn't fight for a cause he didn't believe in. He was against slavery, and I reckon so was I; we sure didn't have any, and nobody I knew did either. Maybe we were just too poor, but all I knew was my homeland was being attacked, and I had to defend it.

The war was gruesome, but our spirits were high. I fought in the 41st Virginia under Col. John R. Chambliss who led our militia with expertise and a firm fist. We loved our Generals. Jefferson Davis may have been president, but General Lee was the most revered man in the Confederacy. The war took me all across the south. We walked a lot and fought a little, but the when we did fight, it was terrible. Battles drove me to my end, physically, and mentally. We all thought the war would be over soon though. The North seemed to be getting weaker, and we thought we were getting stronger, so to us, victory seemed to be coming. I sent letter after letter back home, letting the family know how the war was going, and that I was ok. All this time though, I wondered about Lawrence. I assumed he was ok; as far as the war goes, no news is good news. He was going through the same thing I was. So many times in battle, I wished that I could have my brother jump in and throw a few licks for me. I also wanted to do the same for him. Our youth was over, and I longed for those days.

It was July 1, 1863 and the war took me to Vicksburg, Mississippi. The North had been giving us quite a drubbing, and we were summoned. Right away we were in battle. The North was still putting it to us, but I thought sure we would triumph. Battle started at sunup on the second of July, and Col. Chaimbliss moved us in. The opposition was ready. Before I knew it, shots were all around me. I had never been in this sort of peril before. All around men were down, screaming for their lives, pleading for help. To my left I saw my friend James Hill. He had been shot in the back and was down. I had to answer his cries for help, he was like a brother to me, I always had to look after my brothers. I quickly moved to where I could aid him, but in doing that, I put myself in more danger. A sharp pain came in my stomach, and I fell to the ground. I had been shot! I lay face up at the bright Mississippi sky, knowing that I would die. Fear did not take hold of me, nor was my pain taking my attention. All I could do was lie there and think of home; of my parents, and of my brothers. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness, and wondering which breath would be my last. Footsteps were upon me, and I barely heard, "Merle?! Merle?!" I had no idea who it was, and didn't find out because I again lost consciousness.

I woke up. I woke up! If it were possible for a man to think he is dead, I sure thought I was dead. For the next several minutes I sat there and took in my sensory feelings like a sponge takes in water. Life! Never had a breath tasted so sweet, and never in my 84 years did it again. A medic came to me and proceeded to tell me of my own miraculous survival. He told me that a Union soldier hand run up to our camp while carrying me (which was only about 400 yards from where I got shot) and sat me down. The medic said that they had no idea who the soldier was, but after he put me down some of the other Confederates shot at him and he ran off. "One other thing," he said, we found this on you. He handed me an old battered knife. Upon examining it, I thought it was the knife my Daddy had given me years ago, but I remembered that I didn't take it to war with me. I turned to the back and read the encryption: "LJC" Lawrence James Callahan! My brother had risked his own life to try to save mine. Lawrence crossed Confederate lines , to save an "enemy." He couldn't know if I was going to make it, but he tried his best to help me, and he saved my life. That was my last battle in the Civil War. I was honorably discharged after being wounded in battle. As for my brother, he fought till the end of the war, but not after being promoted several times. When the war ended in 1865 he was a colonel. I owed my life to Lawrence. What is so hard today is I still feel that I owe him. Time and time again as we've grown old, he has said that I never had to make up for it, and that he knew that I would have done the same for him. I would have too, but I never had the chance. From the day I was released from the hospital to the day Lawrence died, I tried to find a way to repay him. Though I could always get him gifts and material items, I couldn't do anything near the magnitude of what he did for me. I always wanted a chance to risk my life for him. As his casket is lowered, and the guns are fired, I cannot grieve. I hold in my hand a knife that has the encryption "LJC" on the back, and I cannot think of anything, but of his heroic effort. To mourn would be to dishonor him because when he saw me at near death, he acted, and saved my life. I then must act. Though I'm 84, my tongue still works, and I can tell of the utmost brotherly love.

A Time To Listen

I have days when I feel like valuable thoughts and reflections drop from my mind like torrential rain. Then I have days when I feel like valuable thoughts and reflections are meant for someone else entirely...that profoundity and substance are my antonyms and I'd do well to just get through the day without thinking. For several months I've been mired in a season marked by the latter.

My default settings place a lot value on being able to share my thoughts. I'm not entirely sure why this is, but it's sure true. Whenever I have nothing to share, when I have no observations (whether humorous or insightful) or musings, I feel like somehow I'm falling behind in life. Part of it could be that I've spent so much time over the years in preaching roles. From the time I was 18 until I was 25 I was preaching on a regular basis, so I've had plenty of moments where, if I didn't have anything to share, then I actually was failing at my job (as I saw it at least).

Now, I feel a bit different. I've not had much to share, and I think it's because God has been telling me to just listen instead of comment. The past two months I've witnessed a great deal of tragedy. In February, I spent a few days in Haiti, which still had fresh wounds from the January earthquake. Nearly a quarter million people died, and a million displaced as a result of 40 horrific seconds. On March 12, John Hamilton, a friend and NMSI affiliate died from a blood clot after a few weeks of battling heart issues. John was only in his early fifties and left behind his wife and 4 year old daughter. Less than a week later, Kylee Boden, another good friend and NMSI affiliate passed away due to complications during childbirth (their baby boy is healthy). Kylee leaves behind her husband, Matt and their 4 children.

Instead of sharing words to encourage others or make sense of it all, I've felt God saying to just listen. Listen to how his people are reacting to their heartbreak...see the Haitian churches rise up, witness believers gather around the Hamiltons to love and care for them...listen to Matt Boden and his amazing resolve and trust.

So my heart aches for Haiti...it hurts deeply for Matt and Alyona who lost their spouses, and it cries for Sasha, Seth, Lydia, Sarai, and baby Caleb who have all lost a loving, Godly parent...in a world with a dearth of good parents. For now, though, I'll just listen and learn...no drawing conclusions or tying up loose ends.

2009 In Review: Triumph, Tragedy, and Everything in Between

My blogging has been excessively delinquent over the past few months...please accept my apologies.

Life has recently moved a a frenetic pace...so much so that my boss made me take a day to

simply spend time in the woods to think, pray, read, write, and process. In that day I realized that I haven't stopped moving since September. And I enjoy that...the working, recruiting, traveling, speaking, etc. The problem is, though, I've done a lot of living, but I've not reflected on life...I haven't stopped and listened to God. One thing I learned in my day of solitude, is that I wanted to write a review of 2009 similar to my review of 2008 (I've also considered review of the 2000s...could be a project for later).

Without further adieu...in 2009 I: (by the way, there are links throughout)

*Rang in the new year in Knoxville with the Bryants and the old JBC crew.

*Created, with Mikey Krepps the band "Don't Blink"

*Spent a weekend in New York city with 4 of my closest friends. Flight, hotel, and rental car: $120/person...the weekend was legendary

*Attempted to go to Super Bowl XLIII (to no avail), but instead watched my beloved Steelers win their record 6th Super Bowl at a wing joint in Tampa with Ryan.

*Spent a week in Haiti building church benches with a group of men in their 60s and 70s.

*Had a hit (sort of) video on youtube.

*Took a recruiting road trip from Fort Myers to Charlotte with Ty and Amy...and in the middle of the night on the side of I-75 ended my 13 year old streak of not vomiting. (I'm sure you love reading this one)

*Flew to Knoxville to spend a random weekend with Chris and Emily just because I missed em.

*Had mom and dad come visit for Easter...

*Had the privilege of spending two weeks teaching a course on the book of Acts at Ggaba Bible Institute in Kampala, Uganda

*Left much of my heart in Tennessee as I flew to Kenya to spend 2 months with 3 terrific interns

*Taught 6th grade math for 3 weeks in the Kenyan bush

*Received a goat on behalf of the community of Morloo, Kenya

*Learned how to "minus a neck" on a chicken

*Proved to several Kenyans, during a 30km 'nature hike' that white people can, in fact, walk more than 3 kilometers without passing out.

*Fell in love with Fanta Citrus

*Climbed a mountain and turned around

*Witnessed a group of children from a remote village (our school in Morloo) in a major singing/dancing competition.

*Didn't get stuck in this window

*Looked at the stars and sang "Yellow" about 30 times with my interns

*Stood in a safari van while staring at a herd of cape buffalo, and, over the phone, had the last conversation I'd ever have with my best friend

*Led 2 funeral services for Chris...I cannot describe the experience...

*Came back to Florida...and, again, left my heart in Tennessee

*Started on plans for 2010

*Was blessed to get a new (to me) car...for free! (courtesy of my brother) It's a Saab of course...my 4th

*Had a blast at Raynor (fellow team-K 2006 member) and Josh's wedding.

*Danced at a Spanish hip-hop concert

*Spent the entire month of October on the road recruiting with Adam, Kristy, and Bri

*Made my yearly pilgrimmage to Neyland Stadium

*Went to my 2nd National Missionary Convention

*Went to a family reunion in Atlanta

*Played at several open-mic nights.

*Enjoyed The Office a little too much

*Spent Christmas with my family...and it was great

*Ended the year at the Urbana conference with 17,000+ college students

*Said goodbye (and good riddance) to 2009 at a bowling alley in St. Louis with Ryan, Derek, and Misty.

In 20 years I'll remember plenty from 2009, but to me, it will always be remembered as the year that the we lost Chris Morgan. Emily lost her husband, Gracie lost her dad, I lost a brother/friend (as did many, many others), and Kenneth/Sue, Morgan/Kathy, and Bob/Carol all lost a son. Maybe one of these days it'll all make sense, but I'm not expecting that to come in 2010...and that's ok...knowing why isn't my job. Instead, I'll be ok with that uncertainty because of my certainty that Chris is doing just fine...way better than any of us. And regardless of what 2010 brings, in the end, I'll be just fine too.

Even so....maybe it's just me...but 2010 sure seems considerably less funny and lacking a staggering amount of loyalty compared to any of the other years I've known.

Goodbye, 2009.

Chris, my brother...I'll see you later.

Road Trip- by the numbers

For the past month I've basically lived in a 2000 Nissan minivan.

One of the biggest part of my job at NMSI is recruiting...I mean, it's pretty hard to plan internship projects when you don't have any interns. So to promote our internship programs and to strengthen NMSI's relationships with colleges and universities, four of us embarked on a month long road trip. Here's how it went down:

6347: Number of miles rolled up on the previously mentioned Nissan van

129: Number of contact cards filled out by students or interested parties. (I have a lot of emails to write)

100+: Number of hours we spent driving from one location to the next. (I'm not really sure how much over the + we are, but it's a lot...we based our guess off destination to destination...not including in town driving)

23: Number of pizzas purchased for college students

21: Number of colleges/universities visited

17: Number of states visited

11: Number of sports venues we saw/passed.

9: Number of churches visited

8: Number of homes we stayed in

5: Number of state capitals visited

5: Number of dorms we stayed in

2: Number of times we were pulled over. Once for a "courtesy warning" for failing to signal, and once for speeding on a straight back road in Ohio with a 35mph limit. (I'm still a little bitter about that one)

2: Number of conferences attended

1: Number of computers fried due to a power surge

This trip was a great adventure, though I'm glad to finally be in one place for a while...I think...

26 thoughts for 26 years

I woke up today as a 26 year old...first time I've ever done that! Last night, Scott, my brother in law asked me what I knew now that I didn't know on my 25th birthday. Thoughts ranging from "you're allowed to pay for a toll with pennies in New Jersey" to "teaching in Uganda completely changed my view of education," flew through my head. The answer I gave him was "Each year I become more aware of how much I don't know...with greater knowledge comes greater knowledge of your own relative ignorance."

I figure that since I'm now officially closer to 30 than I am 20 (really, that seems weird to say) I should have some nuggets of wisdom to share with the world. So here goes...26 thoughts for 26 years!

(by the way, some are serious, some...not so much)

1. The more places I go, the more I see the merits of home.

2a. If you ever call a restaurant to make reservations and upon taking your reservations, the person on the other end chuckles and says "um...sure...yea, we can do that," beware of said restaurant.

2b. If the restaurant is called "Squatters" you should have probably known better in the first place.

3. The life of a Pelican > all other birds. Think about it...you live at the beach, all the seafood you can eat, you float nicely, you're chill, and you can sit around and make jokes about idiot seagulls with your other pelican buddies.

4. We should all aspire to be as loyal as our dogs.

5. Standing on the steps of the courthouse in Tuscaloosa, Alabama and saying "Get over it guys, the Bear died 25 years ago," is taking your life into your own hands.

6. Never take your family or friends for granted. Appreciate every moment you're together.

7. If you can't dance...do it anyway...nobody cares.

8. Bears, Beets, Battlestar Galactica.

9. "Choose what you want most over what you want now."

10. Two South Korean boys, 1 from Senegal, one from Jersey, and one from Seymour, Tennessee can make a fine offensive line.

11. Going to Wal-Mart or Waffle House at 3:30AM is completely acceptable and needs no explanation

12. Some people are fat...and that's ok.

13. When stuck in a Kenyan bathroom and you have to decide between a dollar and a bank statement, go with the bank statement...especially if your dollar consists of 3 quarters, 2 dimes, and a nickel (buh-dum-cha!)

14. Never attempt to jump into a garbage truck...you'll just get a concussion and lose a lot of blood.

15. The ocean heals and the stars demand your awe.

16. Church buildings are no more than stone, steel, and wood just like any other building. The ocean and stars are God expressing himself to us...man made things are our efforts to capture him. Nothing wrong with that, it's just not nature...God in the raw.

17. If you stumble across Roman ruins in the middle of the night, climbing the fence to enter is not necessary. The gate is probably open anyway.

18. Fat guys can run half marathons.

19. Japanese cars are the most reliable, American cars have the best air conditioners, and European cars are for true car lovers.

20. A half a box of croutons can occasionally pass as lunch (though this may have been the low point of my bachelorhood).

21. If there's no snow on Christmas...and there are kids around that want to go sledding...finding a hill, a kiddie pool, and flinging the kids down the hill in the kiddie pool is an adequate substitution.

22. Take care of the outcasts, the lonely, the ones that are constantly the butt of jokes...listen, care, and respect.

23. Safari ants+your pants=exactly what you'd expect.

24. There is no greater entertainment value than "Bring Your Own Weapon Night" at $5 semi-pro wrestling. A broken neon sign. A flying porcelin sink. Few teeth. Many bald eagle tattoos. I started a "loser cuts the mullet" chant. High comedy, great entertainment.

25. Seeking God and trying to understand him is the wisest thing a man can do.

26. Thinking you've figured him out is the most foolish.

Thanks for reading...here's to having better things to share at 27

Blogless

If you keep up with my blog, you've probably noticed that I haven't updated in over a month. It's not like I went without a bloggable thought in the month of September, I just haven't written any of those.

I've had a few newsworthy items, some semi-deep thoughts, and a couple of humorous musings, but haven't brought myself to actually writing them.

Here's why...

I've still been wrapping my mind around the loss of Chris and haven't wanted to share it all. Now, I could have been writing about entirely different subjects, but that's not really me.

Though I often write about indulgent nonsense, I still write about what's on the forefront of my heart/mind...be it legitimate concerns, deep feelings or merely indulgent nonsense.

Losing my friend has been on the forefront of my heart/mind for the past few months, and I haven't wanted to publish those thoughts...maybe some of em later...just not now...

So, the blogging resumes...not saying I have it all figured out, or ever will, I'm just going to start sharing my thoughts in this way again.

First shared thought:

Tonight, TBS ran a marathon of "The Office" followed by the "Serenity Now" episode of Seinfeld...I think Ted Turner sent me a birthday present...so thanks Ted Turner...I stayed up til 3 am thanks to your late night programming!

Boma Tour!

During the summer, we had the privilege of staying 3 nights in Maasai homes. Follow Elise as she gives a tour of a home where we stayed...

Rocky Top-Kenyan Style

Over the next few days I'll be posting a variety of pictures, thoughts, and videos from my summer in Kenya...this is the first of these posts.

Every week, it seems, I see something about Tim Tebow doing a form of mission work overseas. I think it's great, and I applaud him honoring God with his fame. He just makes one mistake...Tim teaches all these kids that ridiculous Gator backwards clap...such a shame! Now there are all these kids who have learned the wrong way to clap and will certainly be mocked if they should ever travel abroad!

To combat this internationally, I decided to teach my standard 5 class how to sing "Rocky Top." Bringing a little extra culture to the nations right? I couldn't resist.

I made this with the intention that it would be just for Chris...I'm sad that he never did...somewhere he's smiling about it...

Chris is home

In case you've not already heard...


Thursday evening about 6:00 PM, Chris passed away.

I was on the road, headed from Kingsport to Knoxville in a rush. Emily had called me just before, saying to get there as soon as possible...Chris didn't have much longer.



As we reached I-40 the phone rang and I knew immediately...Sue, Chris's mom simply said "Matt, he's gone."



Losing him isn't easy...it's not easy for any of us here...especially for Emily. But I can honestly say that I'm at peace because he's not suffering.



Chris had two homes...Kingsport and Maryville, so we'll have services in both places



The first will be in at First Christian Church in Kingsport on Monday the 10th. Visitation will be from 6-7 with the service following.

In Maryville, we'll be at Madison Avenue Baptist Church on Saturday the 15th at 3:30 in the afternoon.

In my previous post, you read of God speaking to me through the song "Fix You." In the moment my phone rang with the news awaiting, we were listening to that very song in the car. I don't know how much clearer God could be...He fixed Chris.

What I never wanted to write- update on Chris

This is an update on my best friend Chris Morgan...an update I never wanted to write.

About a year ago, Chris began his fight with brain cancer. Encouraged by the support of his family and myriad of loving friends, and strengthened by his unwavering faith in Jesus, Chris battled with titanic courage. Despite setbacks and struggles, Chris continued to fight. Before his third operation he was confronted with the fact that the procedure could render his left side motionless. Chris didn't care. He kept on...all with a positive attitude.

Three brain operations in one year has just been too much for his body to endure. My heart breaks to write this, but the time has come. He's not responding to treatment and his body is spent. Now it's time for him to be comfortable, to rest, and to go home. The doctors estimate now that it will be a matter of days.

The news is devastating for Emily, for Gracie, his baby girl, for his family, and for the rest of us. We want him here...we don't know how to handle what comes next. And on our own, we can't.

My heart breaks for Emily and Gracie and his family...and he's always been beyond a friend to me...he's a true brother...so my heart also breaks for me.

I have no profound or insightful take on this...my heart just hurts. So let me tell you of a moment when God spoke to me about Chris...

Back in December, Chris had his second operation, and I was afraid then that we were going to lose him. I caught a flight to Knoxville to be by his side and as my the plane was landing, God had something to say to me.

I fell asleep listening to my ipod, thus not turning it off as the plane landed. The wheels hit the runway and I awakened to the sound of "Fix You" by Coldplay playing through my headphones. My stomach then sunk with the reality of the situation...my best friend's life was on the line. As the song continued I heard:

"High up above or down below, when you're too in love to let it go"

And I thought, yea...I'm not willing to let him go...and neither is anyone else. He deserves to be here...his wife needs him, his baby girl needs him, we all need him.

It continues:

"And I will try, to fix you."

Then I kept saying to God, "Fix him...fix him!! Fix his body! I know that doctors can't, God but you can fix him! Please Lord...fix my friend."

The lyrics progressed:

"Tears stream, down your face, when you lose something you cannot replace."

I said to God "He's not replaceable...don't take him. He cannot be replaced."

And then the conclusion of the song:

"Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you."

At that point, God said to me: "Matt, I've already fixed him."

He's right. Jesus already fixed him. Chris is ok. He was fixed the day that he gave his life to Christ...he's been fixed ever since. His body was broken then and is more broken now...but so is your body and mine...we're all broken.

In the end those bodies don't matter...the Father of lights will guide him home.

God gave me that solace in December, and 8 months later as he's on the cusp of seeing that glorious home...it remains.

I'm not used to this...I'm used to being on the other end...listening to someone share of a loss, my heart breaking for them and feeling useless and helpless-both are difficult. So in reading this, you may feel the same way. But you can help. Here's what you can do.

1. Pray for Emily, Grace, and his family.

2. Send Emily letters of love and encouragement and share stories and memories of Chris with her. To do so, write on the guestbook at his caringbridge page at: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/chrismorgan

3. In lieu of flowers, send a contribution. For information on how to do so, contact me.

To conclude, paul said it well:

Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely. 1 Corinthians 13:12

Car Shopping... the Glorious Injustice

I'm a car guy...have been for as long as I could be called a guy and not a boy. I come by it honestly, my dad has always had cool cars...none of them were expensive, just cool. So from childhood I always appreciated a good car...one that stands out among the drudgery of Chevy Cavaliers, Ford Tauruses, Toyota Camrys, and Honda Civics overwhelming the road.

So now, here I am 25 years old, and need a car. My old car (a sort of cool 97 Saab 900s) bit the dust in April and I sold it in May. Understanding that I have a limited budget ($4500 max), and need something both economical and reliable, I've prepared myself to cross the line between cool car (something European/rare) and mundane. I've even accepted the idea that I could be driving an American car, which I usually find to be entirely inferior to their Japanese and European counterparts.

With those things in mind I set off today, feeling like I'd find a gem.

My optimism was soon quelled...

A local dealer had a 1997 Nissan Maxima for sale. It was loaded up, in great shape, and 100,000 miles. Mildly cool car, but still bland. Even so, bland often equals reliable so I felt good about finding something mildly cool (not to mention it had leather seats and all the bells and whistles that my Saabs have had).

I'm no dummy...I came in armed with the knowledge that the value of this car, even in it's exquisite condition is $4000. Considering that I'm a wheeler and dealer and a generally likable guy, I figured $3500.

Now for the gory details...
The salesman and I were walking to the car and the following transaction took place:

Salesman: Matt, what are you looking to spend
Me: Under 5k
Salesman: *Silence* Well, um, we should probably not even look at this car
Me: *confused* Huh?
Salesman: The price is $8700 but our Internet price is $7900
Me: What? Really? This is a $4000 car! (I was a little off...but not much)
Salesman: Yes, but it's really nice.
Me: *half confused half incredulous* I know you're not the sales manager, but why is it so much?
Salesman: Where else are you going to find a 97 Maxima with only 100,000 miles?
Me: It's 12 years old! I can find a 12 year old car with 100,000 miles anywhere
Salesman: Yea but it's really nice.
Me: Goodness..you're asking almost 9 grand! Your competitor down the road has a 2000 Saab 9-3 Viggen for 9 grand.
Salesman: What's that?
Me: *shaking my head* A souped up Saab...very rare car...new it was over $40k. (not to mention it's definitely cool)
Salesman: *blank stare*
Me: Nevermind...you're asking double it's value.
Salesman: But it's really nice.

I was dumbfounded. The sad thing is, some poor sap who doesn't know better will go in and pay 7 grand for that car. He'll be surprised by the clean leather, responsive engine, and various features and make a terrible financial decision.

For the next several hours, I scoured the town for the perfect ride. Unfortunately, the only cars in my price range fell into one of these categories:

Has Beens: cars that were once nice, but were maintained by either vikings or bears
Trash: cars that were never good...the day they left the factory they were as quality as a week old gas station cheeseburger
Beaters: ripped seats, no a/c, and a slipping transmission. "Honest Bill" says it was owned by his late grandmother

I feel simultaneously rich and utterly broke with my $3500

So the search continues. I'm stubborn. Really stubborn. I won't be ripped off and I still want to toe the line between responsible purchase and cool car.

I could get a Land Rover Discovery...which is about an 8 on the cool chart. But considering their terrible reliability record and ghastly 16 mpg, it's about a 1 on the responsibility chart.

I could get a Ford Taurus...as cool as Rick Astley...as responsible as Aunt Bea

Anyway...for all of you who have fought and lost...that have succumbed to the agony of car shopping and relented to paying for rust proofing...that have driven off in a car you liked for 2 weeks...I'm gonna win one for us all.

Back in the US

Jambosana rafiki! (hello friends) After two months in Kenya, I've safely returned to the US. My time in Kenya was remarkable...affirming and encouraging. Thanks to all who prayed for our team this summer, we were blessed with safety and provision throughout. Anytime a man leads a team of 3 girls, extra prayer is needed for all parties...turns out boys and girls are different! Our team functioned wonderfully...the ladies had terrific attitudes and made my job an easy one. I was blessed to have the privilege of leading them.


Over the next few days, I'll be posting about a variety of topics regarding summer 2009. I have a ton of things to share and I can't fit them into one blog. Instead, I'd like your help! If you have a question (specific or general) or topic (specific or broad) that you'd like to hear about, please email me (mhickman@nmsi.org) or contact me any other way. These can be serious, completely absurd, or anywhere in between (for example: I'd be glad to discuss the generosity of the Maasai, the beauty of the scenery, or the fun I had watching chickens & donkeys). I intend to write 10 posts about this summer, so please send the ideas/questions/requests in. Thanks in advance!





For now, here are a couple of pictures from the summer to whet your appetite for Kenya stories...

Vintage Land Rovers and ipods

Today I feel old...not because my knees creak a little more than they used to, not because my clean shaven face reveals a wrinkle or two, not because I now reflect on the proverbial "good ole days," and not because I now check the 25-39 demographic box. But for a moment today, I've identified with things of the past...a time before I was born, void of ESPN and long before Facebook. For a considerable amount of time today, I drove our group around in a 1965 Land Rover, a vehicle built like a fort with the amenities of a tricycle. No power steering, no power brakes, no working telemetry, and a whopping 80 horsepower at my disposal to propel the behemoth over roads that even the Lonely Planet Guide to Kenya describes as "detestable." Strangely, I enjoyed the adventure thoroughly. As other scurried around in town in modern Toyotas and newer buses and compact cars, I reveled in my ability to maneuver such a vehicle in forward and backward in tight spaces. Aside from the continuous "atta boys" in my head, I felt a sense of accomplishment for merely driving. This was merely transportation...driving from point a to point b, not the luxury it has been for me in the past with a sunroof, Sirius radio, cruise control, A/C and 80 mph speeds. This 1965 Land Rover on unpaved roads was hardly luxury...it required full attention, 4WD, and some creativity. It all fit.

Hours later, I relaxed for the day and listened to my ipod (perhaps the mascot of the 2000s) and turned it on shuffle. A mix of artists began...first Coldplay, the Fray, and Matchbox 20, and then James Taylor, Jackson Browne, and the Beatles. Though I'm a huge fan of Coldplay, I related more to the youthful (when written) musings of Taylor, Browne, and the Fab 4. Browne didn't know how he ended up where he was in life, Taylor missed an old friend, and the Beatles bemoaned the futility of money. Sitting on a musty couch in Africa after just reading a letter from my mom summed up my life much better than any of the newer artists. Maybe I was born at the wrong time? Given to the wrong ear? Perhaps. Maybe I just like old cars and old music. Either way, today, 1965 feels like part of my past and the 2010s seem no nearer than a colony om Mars.

Initial thoughts from Kenya

A full week has passed since we arrived in Kenya. The beauty of this place is as I remember...sweeping plains, distant mountains, dusty-pitted roads all dotted with exotic wildlife. I've been staying in a wooden shack with a concrete floor...simple for sure, but the view is breathtaking. A green plain slowly descends for several kilometers until it turns into a small valley, where it then gently ascends to the feet of sloping mountains. Along the way, shrubs, trees, and the occasional herd of cattle join the landscape.

We're in the village of Morloo, and the people here have been amazingly hospitable- offering their chai and their thanks at every opportunity...we're so blessed to be here.

Even so, much of the magic of the place has departed for me. Before, on my first visit, all these things were mysterious and romantic. Now, I'm just...here. Over the past three years it seems that Kenya, at least this part of it, has not really changed...I sure have.

And it's all ok...I'm happy to be here...and thankful to know that I was supposed to go here three years go, and that I'm supposed to be here now...but wasn't supposed to move here. Confirmation is freedom from wondering "what if?"

From a Kenyan Internet Cafe

Hey everyone!

We made it safely to Kenya last Friday night... had no difficulty with flights, grumpiness, or anything else!

Later today we head off to the bush to the town of Morloo. (pronounced mor-low) We'll spend 3 weeks there teaching, preaching, building relationships, and helping out however we can. Please pray that our presence is a blessing to the Masai people and that God uses us for his purpose.

In addition to this Kenya team, we sent out teams to 5 other locations around the world. Please join with us in prayer for them.

To see a more detailed update from team Kenya and to see updates for all NMSI intern teams, visit:

http://www.nmsi.org/interns.aspx

Thanks so much for your love and support...my next update won't be until we return from the bush at the end of the month...until then...

Love,
Matt

Team Kenya 2009

Update from PFO

Last Day of Teaching

After 9 days at a frenetic pace of study, we finished the book of Acts this afternoon. As the we concluded, I read from the first Chapter, verses 4-8 where Jesus is quoted:

"Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. 5For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit."
6So when they met together, they asked him, "Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?"
7He said to them: "It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. 8But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."the commission Jesus give to his Apostles, to be his witnesses to Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."

We then compared this with the conclusion in chapter 28 where Paul is in Rome boldly teaching the gospel "without hindrance." Throughout the book we saw all that Jesus commanded come true. The Spirit came at Penetcost and the apostles were his witnesses to all these places. As for the 2nd coming? We don't know the times and dates any more than the apostles did. So...we're waiting and serving as witnesses...just like the apostles.

At that, the class applauded. Not for me, I deserve none...but for this great work, penned by Luke, inspired by the Holy Spirit.

Reflections to come...

The best I can do at the moment

Warning!!! Late night ramblings...may contain randomness, idiocy, and disconnectedness.

So right now it's 1:55 am Uganda time...meaning it's 6:55 pm at home...but, yea I'm still up. I've been sitting at this table for hours, maintaining a minimal, but steady sweat. As hot as Uganda is...Florida is way worse. I know I live in Florida, and I know I've complained a lot (more than I complain about anything else), but the more places I go the more I'm convinced that Florida in the summer is the worst place on earth.

The heat and humidity wrest your breath from your lungs, turn it to moisture, and return it as sweat on your brow.

But now I'm not in Florida, I'm in Uganda and the past week has been amazing. I have so many thoughts running through my head. They range from of great importance (theology, missions, the church) to significant (simplicity of life, what will the next few years hold) to irrelevant (beans & rice, Turbo-Diesel Mitsubishi Pajeros, the chord progression for "Crash" by Dave Matthews).

All that to say, I am full of reflections but currently without the mental organization to process them. Eventually it'll be sorted out and you'll read about my questioning of the idea of systematic theology as a whole and my heart for the American church. (ooh! I think that was a "teaser")

As for other things....

Tonight I had several great conversations w/ friends via Skype. Is it bad that I'm thankful for the technology we have? I think it's not. I'm blessed with great friends...you guys support me, laugh with me, roll your eyes at me when it's needed, and care about my well being. So I'm thankful for what keeps me in touch with you.

All the time I think about Chris...he's battling cancer and I'm praying for him constantly. Please take a moment to pray for him too.
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I wasn't kidding.
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Thanks...if you know him personally, send him a message.

So just a few minutes ago I finished writing the final exam for the Acts class. All things considered, I'm pretty proud of the exam. Though, I'm finally sympathizing with my former professors who would be aghast by their students lack of knowledge on a relatively rudimentary subject.

I remember being clueless in Old Testament Poetry class and Doc Reese being semi-flustered that his students weren't getting the difference between anthropomorphisms and anthropopothisms. (for the record, I spelled each of those correctly on the first try...I have never been so impressed with myself at 2:22 AM)

Anyway, I'm up too late, have to get up too early, and have been saying things that may or may not make sense...that's my cue to end this
Matt

Weekend pt. 2...The Source of the Nile Marathon

About a month ago Jeff, my gracious host, told me about a 1/2 marathon along the Nile, taking place on May 3. He said if I was up for it, he'd sign us up. Now, Jeff is an avid runner...one of these guys who wakes up at 5 am and runs 6 miles at a sub 8 minute pace every day. I'm a much more casual runner. I run every now and then in the evening, for however long I can stand it and whatever pace I feel like. Sometimes this is 8 miles at a good kick, sometimes it's 2 miles almost walking.

I'm not in 1/2 marathon shape at the moment, but fortunately, they also offered a 10k...so...I said giddyup! Considering that my previous "running diary" blog was a hit, I decided to go for it again.

5:00 AM: Alarm goes off.

5:01 AM: Realize my alarm is going off...but have no idea why

5:02 AM: Remember that we have a 2 hour drive to get to the race...climb out of bed

5:03 AM: Stand in a stupor and suppress angry thoughts

5:10 AM: Take anti malaria medication while continuing to suppress thoughts...

5:17 AM: Jump in the Land Cruiser w/ Jeff and roll out

5:19 AM: Jeff chooses Coldplay...always a good decision.

6:00 AM: Roll through the Ugandan countryside in the pitch dark

6:01 AM: Mention something about the lack of the stars in the sky...a moment later the Coldplay tells me "Look at the stars, look how they shine for you." Liars...

6:30 AM: Cross the Nile River...as Jeff accidentally skips past a Police checkpoint

6:50 AM: Make it to Jinja, the town hosting the run.

7:00 AM: Scout out the coffee shop for out post-race celebration

7:15 AM: Drive around looking at the Nile...it's beautiful

7:20 AM: Use a map that is slightly more specific than a globe to try and locate the race starting point.

7:25 AM: Realize that the map is useless...but it does tell me that medical staff will be at the start and finish. Good news. I'll just make sure to not die during the race.

7:30 AM: Have yet to see anyone in running attire.

7:31 AM: Decide that we can't find this place on our own and ask a policeman who may or may not have been able to read the paper we showed him...he sent us off in a general direction.

7:33 AM: The general direction led to some goats and chickens.

7:35 AM: Find a taxi driver, and pay him $1 to take us to the starting point

7:38 AM: He takes us to a "fitness club" that is essentially deserted. He leaves and we are greeted by a sad looking dog and an older man...whose shirt is 1/2 buttoned, and is possibly hungover. We ask him about the race...he looks as confused as I was when I walked in Didi's World. We conclude that this is not the starting point.

8:00 AM: Continue to drive around aimlessly...

8:03 AM: Spot a poster for the race which reads: 31 May, 2009

8:04 AM: Realize that today is not 31 May, 2009. %&#*@#!

8:05 AM: Laugh for about a minute solid

8:06 AM: Jeff declares this one of his best African moments.

8:07 AM: Jeff realizes that they had initially set the date for the 3rd, but after a low sign up, must have decided to move it to the 31st and add a 1 to the posters...without telling anyone! This isn't really a big surprise.

8:08 AM: Decide to go to the coffee shop anyway

8:15 AM: Arrive at the coffee shop to see that it doesn't open til 10

8:16 AM: %#&$*#@&!

8:17 AM: Down, but not out...we decide to head back to Kampala

9:30 AM: Get coffee and breakfast at a great place in Kampala

10:00 AM: Return home 5 hours after leaving and without running, but with a story to tell.

10:01 AM: We decide it was a good day anyway

9:00 PM: Still a little disappointed that we didn't get to run, but know it was an experience I'll never forget. Seeing the Ugandan countryside was great...crops, hill, rainforests, and the Nile!

9:01 PM: Realize I probably woulda passed out by the 6th km anyway...