A blog post from American soil? Why not? I mean, we've only talked about coming home for about three months now. And it hasn't let me down.
Over the past three days, I've been reunited with a few of my favorite people in this world. As I've struggled to overcome the seven hour gap between my body and my brain, I've seen a beautiful and hazy picture of home here on this earth. Coming home to these people has served as the greatest reminder of what true community and fellowship looks like, and I'm leveled every day by that truth.
As I'm left here to sift through the sensory overload of the past three months, I've felt this burden and this weight for the faces and the souls that I encountered abroad. I pray that the Lord would break my heart for this world; I pray that I never forget. If I do, then this whole thing was in vain.
These are just a few simple truths that have been revealed to me in the past few days. I'm not even sure if anyone will read this, but it's important for me to write it. After all, the most important part of this whole thing is what I do once I'm home.
I'll wrap things up with this paragraph. I'm twenty-one years old. I've seen parts of the world that I never thought I'd see in my lifetime. I'm blessed beyond belief by those experiences. But above all of this, I'm blessed to live where I live. I'm blessed to live in the greatest state of the greatest country in the world.
It feels good to be home, baby, it feels good to be home!
Well, Jake and I embark on our 19 days straight of travel starting tomorrow morning with a flight to Barcelona. That's the start point, the end point is Thessaloniki, Greece and we'll see about all the inbetweens. The idea is to stay as close to sunshine and the coast as possible. word. We understand the awesomeness and craziness that will accompany these next three weeks of adventure. We also understand the homesickness and patrioticness that will stir up in us while we are away from our beloved country for so long. To further that deep seeded understanding here is a list of things we miss from America and things we plan on missing and things we will never take for granted again:
The forbidden C words: -Chipotle -Chick-fil-et -C.O.D. (if you don't know, don't bother asking) -Chipotle -Cane's (Bushes personally for me. Sunday nights preferably) -Christmas?? -Crawford, Kyle -Capitol Hill -Chipotle and... -Chipotle Other things: -Chipotle -Vitteks -The Whataburger voice (moreso than the place itself) -Free bathrooms -Driving past the Barry White House and laughing -Jillian Stanfield -girlfriends -sounds that don't feature an accordion -not doing math every time we make a purchase/withdrawal -K Smitty -people assuming we are ZZZs -Jarritors -Jillian Stanfield -Tex Mex -Joe James Coulter -Chipotle -L.C. and Mitzy -Tim Davis -watching sports LIVE -watching full sporting events, not just 2 1/2 recaps (Derrick Rose doesn't make a highlight EVERY TIME he touches the ball [but close to it]) -not living in a hospital -paying an extra 1.75 for guac -Vesta and the Broner hat -late night Taco Bell -Dr. Moseman -Lady and Joy -Bun -Chipotle -Our home in the 254 and the people we love the most.
Oh man. Where do I start this post? I have to start by saying this weekend was both the most insane and the most divine weekend we've had in Europe. It was completely out of control and completely destined at the same time. Our German English professor would call that a paradox. Side note, on my English final, I probably used the word "paradox" a dozen times. Good thing our professor doesn't speak English.
So, we wanted to go to Prague this weekend. We even boarded a train in Maastricht that was headed for Prague. On the train, we noticed there was a group of girls who were also headed for Prague. They were even taking the same overnight train. In some stupid German town in the community of Stupid Ass Nowhere, these girls get off the train. Noting this, my good pal Goldstein made the executive decision to follow them. Despite knowing in his heart that this was very much not our stop, despite my shouting that this was very much not our stop, and despite the fact that we never intended to follow these girls, we got off the train in Stupid Ass Nowhere. Shortly thereafter, Goldstein's face read something like, "Yeah...chalk this one up as my bad..." So, the girls board their next train, and, as men, we think to ourselves, "Yeah, we could beat them to the next train and be asleep in our warm sleeper car." We stand in the cold for about an hour. We wait. And we wait. And Goldstein's face reads full of remorse. Our train never comes. We decide to cut our losses and head back to Maastricht.
Here's where the insanity takes a turn towards divinity. The next train that pulls into the station is not the train back to Maastricht. As Goldstein, Layne, and I are weighing our options, Layne looks to his right and says, "Wait...is that Derek?" We look through the train window and see our buddy Derek, sitting alone next to his giant backpack. We run onto the train, keeping one foot inside the train and one outside on the platform. We ask Derek where he's going, and he says, "Interlaken." Goldstein, Layne, and I look at each other, like something out of the final scene of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, and we ask, "Can we come?"
So, we headed to Switzerland. We woke up and found ourselves surrounded by lakes and towered over by the sexiest mountains I've ever seen. After spending the day exploring the town and weighing prices for the multitude of extreme activities offered in Interlaken, we rented some ski gear and called it an early night. We woke up early on Saturday and met up with a group of awesome friends we had made the night before. We hit the slopes around nine, and we hit them hard. We skied our hearts out.
The realization that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity began to sink in, and the joy that comes with that began to take over. In true Patterson fashion, we had packed sandwiches for lunch. We splurged for a pint of Erdinger to wash them down and had a great time living in the disbelief of the situation we found ourselves in. Layne captured our "Corona" moment.
We worked our way down the mountain, skiing through frontyards until the snow turned to concrete. We hustled back to our hostel, grabbed our backpacks, and caught the night-train back to Maastricht, exhausted and satisfied.
Honestly, my mind is blown. Just sitting down to format this trip into pictures and words has recaptured the awe of God's splendor and majesty that we experienced on this trip. I could spend hours typing this post, and my words would never come close to bringing this justice.
And yes, I am using that excuse to bow out early. I'd like to thank my parents for that little bit of extra cash that made this trip possible. And for conceiving me.
Also, we were without our friend Kevin Beach this weekend, therefore, no KBMOTW. But have no fear, we weren't without a member of a fraternal organization. Enjoy watching Layne's yard-sale.
Just to recap why TP has been MIA this past like 10 days is because our school gave us the week off for Carnival. I really can't describe Carnival because words don't do it justice. The best description we came up with is if Mardi Gras and Halloween had a baby and somehow Dia Del Oso's DNA got sprinkled in...for 5 days straight. Its the one time and place of the year that if you don't look like this guy, you are a total weirdo.
After the festivities I watched the movie Braveheart, listened to the soundtrack three times and shipped out to Edinburgh, Scotland for rolling hills, castles, scotch, and bagpipes. All of such things were present. Edinburgh Castle, home of Robert the Bruce, was directly outside our hostel, which was tight cus hey I'm a castle kind of guy. Almost better than castles, our first night in the hostel we were exhausted and reluctantly decided to stay in only to find there would be a movie showing of Con Air that night. BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE. Nick Cage's awful, phony Alabama accent and one liners plus random Dave Chappelle was exactly what we needed to get the week going. I never realized how terrible and cheesy and incredibly entertaining Con Air was. Getting older opens your eyes to things...Anyway, the rest of Edinburgh contained exploring Harry Potter history and eating delicious Haggis in old Scottish pubs. If you don't know what Haggis is, you're lucky. Ignorance is bliss. We learned a little bit about the history of Edinburgh, and I was surprised to find that there have been a ton of martyrs in Edinburgh in the past. Appartenly there was a lot of catholic oppression on the protestant church and hundreds of men and women stood for their beliefs and were hanged and tortured for it. Here is a quick video of a stone platform in the middle of the Old Town where they used to martyr protestants. The video is a little cheesy, I know, but I was very moved by it and the important history of people who paved the way for my faith today.
Quick shout out to all Scottish people, who are literally the nicest, most respectful people I have met in my life. Every Scot I met, whether they were serving me in a pub or just on the street would gladly jump at the opportunity to go out of their way for me. I learned a lot about being hospitable from them.
Speaking of being hospitable, on Wednesday Kevin and I traveled to Glasgow to meet up with my sisters college roommate of three years and close friend, Suzy Lee. Suzy was the most amazing host as she bought us coffee, showed us the whole city, let us shower in her flat for our first all week, and made us an amazing mexican dinner. Hats off to Suzy Lee for helping recharge my travel batteries and being an incredible encouragement to me through her life and servanthood.
I have to get to Ireland before this blog gets any longer.
Highlights of Dublin include our first night when we checked out a place we heard was cool called Temple Bar. We walked in and were stunned by an Irish Folk band jamming some of the most beautiful music I have heard. Everyone had their pints of Guinness and were dancing around like free spirits enjoying the music and enjoying life. Not bad for a country that recently went bankrupt. Kevin and I went to Galway the next day and met a Japanese guy who works as a librarian and was visiting Europe for the first time. He chose to go to Ireland because he read a book with an Irish author that he likes (maybe George Bernard Shaw?) and also was a huge fan of whiskeys and was on a quest to find the best ones, so naturally he felt led to Ireland. Our real reason for going to Galway was to visit and experience the cliffs of Moher, which was insanely beautiful. Nothing gets the adrenaline pumping like dangling your feet off a 700 ft cliff.
On Sunday Beach and I went back to Dublin and hit up the Jameson Whiskey factory in the morning, so we had enough time to make it over to the Guinness Storehouse in the afternoon. I was picked to be a whiskey taster, we ate barley, and some guy at the Guinness factory gave us a free drink. Only the good things happened on that day.
Beach Moment of the Week: He wore one shirt (green and black flannel) for 6 out of the 7 days we were traveling in Great Britain. I mean I know I only took 2 showers and wore three pairs of underwear all week, but one shirt? And it wasn't even polo? nf.
If you read the previous post you will notice that our wolfpack was split up for the weekend; Jake staying in Maastricht and me going to Copenhagen with some other dudes. By the way, when I booked my train ticket to Copenhagen I had no clue what country it was in or where it was on the map. Turns out its in Denmark, and many of you probably think I am an idiot, but hey geography is my absolute worst subject. Anyway, even though the first two words I would use to describe Copenhagen are frigid and expensive, we had a blast of a weekend. We had no clue what we were supposed to do, we knew of no tourist attractions except some statue of a mermaid in the water, but we found ways to amuse ourselves:
Our first night we found the local Copenhagen hotspot called Sam's bar, but it should be called "Ridiculous Asian Karaoke Bar filled with hot single 40's." Here are some of the highlights:
On Saturday we hopped on a short train to Malmö, Sweden. The trip was kinda just to say we went to Sweden and add another country to our travel résumé, but more so because we heard mouth tobacco products are sold legally. While I'm not a big dip or chew guy myself, the boys of the group stocked up for the semester. A couple hours into Malmö and we found ourselves in a Mexican restaurant eating nachos, sipping on frozen Margaritas, and laughing about how we traveled to a country specifically to buy dip and snus (which interestingly enough originated in Sweden).
The trip to Sweden leads right into the Beach moment of the week. We took a high speed train from Copenhagen to Malmö, and being that there is an ocean in between them, the train traveled on a long bridge over the gap between the two countries. While I was sitting in silence admiring the beauty of the massive, icy ocean, Kevin was freaking out. As he described it, "if this bridge collapses we are going to die. We are dead. That's it. We will freeze to death in that water." He hated it almost as much as he hates elevators. We all enjoyed his misery, vulnerability, and our discussions of possible disaster scenarios in front of him.
On the way back from Copenhagen our train rolled onto a ferry. That's right, you heard me correctly, our train traveled via ferry, like a real water ferry. We were told to get off the train, we took a 45 minute ferry ride, and then got back on the train. The ferry is better described as a cruise ship because it had 7 floors, approximately 8 restaurants, and a couple giant sams-clubesque duty free shops. We also had the privilege of going out on the deck and watching the ferry burst through the giant ice chunks floating in the ocean. Yea, we felt like we were on the Titanic. Assuming I'm Leo DiCaprio, and with the absence of my wonderful girlfriend, Jillian (who deserves a shout out in every post), Beach filled in as my Rose (Beach makes sense as Rose, she was bigger than Leo in that movie right?). After a comfortable 45 minutes we got right back on the train, it rolled right off the ferry and back onto the regular old land tracks. Train ferries, who knew?
In the last post, Jake promised I would talk about the whole Rob Bell "Love Wins" issue, but I won't. This blog has little room for ologies and osophies. I'd like to try to keep it focused on adventures and sometimes my recognizing of God's beauty and glory, not meaningless arguments about people who worship and serve the same God as me. Sorry Jake.
To save Goldstein from himself, I've decided to post about my weekend here in Maastricht. He's written the last few, so it must be my turn.
Thursday, I went to bed earlier than I have since middle school. And I will not apologize.
Friday, my buddy Layne and I went on a bike ride around Maastricht. I couldn't help but recall the words of those before me (Daniel Goldstein, Tori Liggett, Jena Willard...) who shared their wisdom with me before I left. They said that one of their favorite weekends from the trip was the weekend they stuck around and explored Maastricht. They were right. Friday consisted of a late morning man-date with Layne, as I let him test drive some of his planned dates for his girlfriend who's coming next week. He bought my meal and everything, it was super romantic. We proceeded to get lost on a long bike ride in and around Maastricht, culminating in an uphill battle with the road for a mile or two. To conclude the bike ride story, I'm in the worst physical shape of my life. Hence the sweating, panting, and cursing. Friday ended with the ordering of pizza and viewing of several episodes of Star Wars. Yes, I am a nerd. But Goldstein can do the R2D2 scream with the best of them, so he's got it much worse than me.
Saturday...I don't even remember Saturday. The highlight of Saturday was a two-hour-long Skype date with Laura. No complaints there.
Sunday was my jam. Without a doubt, I woke up in the best way imaginable. Goldstein, in his infinite wisdom, purchased an ESPN college pass when we got here. With this golden ticket, we've been able to watch the Baylor men's basketball team in all of their highs and lows. On this particular morning, I knew I would be waking up to a recording of the Baylor v. ATM game in Waco. The next two hours were filled with silent fist pumps, overused Baylor related catchphrases said under my breath, and attempts at the frat snap. I was forced to use these celebratory methods, as opposed to my usual shouting, because the Asian girls in our hall party hard into the night and sleep into the afternoon. And because I was by myself and feel pathetic shouting at a computer screen by myself.
I had an epiphany that morning. It doesn't matter if I'm watching Baylor basketball by myself or with a group of friends. Under either scenario, the presence of those collegiate companions closest to my heart fills whatever room I'm in. These are the men I will tell my children about someday, these roommates who I've spent hours upon hours with, watching basketball. I will speak of Kyle Crawford, Kevin Smith, Ty Morrill, Harrison DeHay, Nolan Grose, and many others as legends when I look back on my collegiate career.
Last night, Goldstein and I pillow talked the night away, reminiscing over the past three years. We found that even during those late nights where we questioned whether we were wasting our time in college, playing Call of Duty, watching NCAA basketball, sitting on the porch and laughing at people coming back from Scruffs...we were creating community and living out fellowship at all times. God has made known His love for me through the relationships with these men that surround me in Waco. I pray that they fully know their role in the divine journey that is my life in Christ.
That's enough sentiment for now. Stay tuned for a collaborative blog post. Topic: Reformed theology v. the rest of the world. We'll have interviews with Rob Bell, Layne Hancock, a tweet from John Piper, and much more. Seriously though, I hope Goldstein decides to incorporate the theological debate into his post about his trip to Copenhagen. Take the hint, Stein. I pass the flame on to you.
Sometimes I will seek God so hard through reading the bible, or worshipping, or praying, or just trying to "think" myself into His presence, and it feels as if I accomplish nothing. No "special" feeling, no great happiness welling inside me and no greater understanding of His wonderful mystery. In other particular moments I have no intentions of seeking Him at all, and He strikes straight to my heart.
"There is a God. The plants of the valley and the cedars of the mountain bless His name; the insect hums His praise; the elephant salutes Him with the rising day; the bird glorifies Him among the foliage; the lighting bespeaks His power, and the ocean declares His immensity. Man alone has said, 'There is no God.'" ~Vicomte De Chateaubriand
You could say it was unexpected for me to be drawn to God in the middle of a boring French Revolution class. I read the Chateaubriand quote from one of our readings on the age of romanticism where intellects went back to their feelings and emotions instead of reliance on science and reason. Chateaubriand was one of the few who realized that true romance is not with art or nature, but rather those are mediums through which we find God and fall more deeply in love with Him.
May I not resort to my own futile devices to will God into my life, and may I not be blind to the beauty all around this continent that God, the bride, is using to romance me, the bridegroom.
