Make the Most of It

     The moments are rare it seems when a person has the privilege of watching someone do exactly what they were made to do. The confidence, authority and ease with which that person does whatever it is creates a sense that we do all live for a purpose and we all have the ability to fulfill that purpose. This past weekend I had just such an experience. Innes Macsween delivered two sermons on Sunday to two different congregations and it was evident in everything about his demeanor that he knew the pulpit is where he belongs.

     Some may be jealous at such an evident assurance of fulfillment and belonging, but I do not believe that is the correct response. Within each of us lies a purpose that can be carried out and established in our lives or ignored. The callings of some may bring them more money, more fame, more power, but if each person finds what it is they were made to do then the amount of fulfillment in life will all be equal. At the end of the day, I would trade all the money, fame and power in the world to feel satisfied with the work I had done. So if you haven't found it, keep searching; there is something you were made to do. As many have said, "You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough." At the risk of sounding like an inspirational poster, I will stop with that and tell you about some of the other events.

     The entire weekend was one of my favorite times here. We got to stay in a manse (minister's home) in a small village that does not currently have a minister, so the six of us had the whole house to ourselves. There was plenty of laughter, good food and overall good company. Even a crushing loss in Scrabble could not dampen the time. It is amazing how quickly a group can bond and have an incredible time together. Final goodbyes were in order for a few of us at the end of the weekend, and while not easy, I hope to be back to see the friends I have made in my time here. They have had more of an effect on me than I could ever show.

Just Another Day on the Links

     Every life is filled with a few moments in time that freeze frame while every sense is heightened and forever remembered. Sometimes this results from joy, sometimes fear, and sometimes just a sense of wonder at the moment. I have a few such moments in my life, but the most recent occurred a couple weeks ago at St. Andrews, the home of golf. As I stood on the first tee of the New Course warming up and trying to keep hyperventilation at bay, I took a practice swing and looked up to a view that I have imagined looking on to after a shot so many times. There it was - THE backdrop of golf - and I was looking at it and preparing to hit my first tee shot. I will always remember the rush of joy, the sense of history, the sea breeze, and in an odd way a feeling of homecoming. Golf has been something I have loved throughout a fair part of my life, and I was getting to play it in the place it was originally designed to be played.

     My friend Dan accompanied me to play the course, and his comment described my emotions exactly as I walked up to the clubhouse. "I keep waiting for them to come tell me I can't play here or even be here." It feels like such a historic place that you don't want to make any mistakes ever. But everyone was so nice and helped us with everything. We got paired up with some very Scottish gentlemen, one from St. Andrews and the other from Inverness, and I felt like I was invading hallowed ground that they had fought alongside Mel Gibson to protect. But they were very nice and were quite good players which was nice to play with.

     So with knees knocking and palms sweating I hit my first tee shot. Certainly not the best ever, but it was past the women's tees and playable, so those two fears were not realized and for that I was thankful. I managed to par that first hole, and thought maybe it wouldn't be too bad a scoring round of golf. That was wrong, but I stopped caring about how I was hitting and chose to just enjoy the experience instead of getting frustrated and working on my swing. It was a beautiful day with sun, hardly any wind, and it was at St. Andrews, so on that day the score on my card was way less valuable than the memory I brought back of the experience. It was phenomenal.

Get Outta Here, Soccer - Real Football Has Arrived

     One great thing about studying abroad is you do things you either would never expect yourself to do or you would never have the opportunity to do at home. For me, one of those things is playing football. Nope, not soccer - American football. The University of Glasgow has a team, and by British standards, they are actually a very good team. I decided to go to their training day just for fun to see what it was like and since then have not turned back. Keep in mind that I have never played for a football team before in my life. In fact, I have never played a contact sport in my life. One of the knocks on being the youngest child - your mom has had the opportunity to see your brother get hit hard once and you are forever banned from anything that involves taking a hit. Well, not forever, I just have to go halfway around the world to do it.

     Not having played before I was willing to try any position they thought I could play. On the training day I was running receiver routes and tossed the ball back to the guy who was throwing, and he immediately stopped me and asked me to throw. I did and apparently for a Scottish team I can throw the ball decently. So they had me tryout for quarterback. To be honest, I would rather have played receiver, so I was somewhat glad when another American showed up and was at least six inches taller than me and could throw the ball at least twenty yards further than me and had a great spiral every time to boot. So I got to play receiver for a while and loved it. Then our star quarterback had a family matter that called him home and suddenly I was looked to as quarterback again. I said I liked playing receiver more, but now that I am getting the hang of quarterback I am having a great time.

     Today was our first game and thankfully we were able to win. It was an ugly game, but we won 16-0 and it was a great experience. I took some hits, but had fun, and even though I did not play all that well, I am looking forward to next game and feeling a lot more comfortable and confident playing. Who knew I would be playing football in Scotland?

Scottish Vacation Home?

     Being in another country has adjusted my focus significantly. Classes are of little importance to me while I am here. Essentially, I want to pass. I am not here to learn a bunch in the classroom. I can do that anywhere. So I take the opportunities when they come to experience what I can of Scotland. This past Tuesday, my adopted family from the church I have been attending offered to take me up to their cottage for the day. I obviously said yes because the only commitment I had during the day was class. No regrets here - it was a phenomenal decision.

     Their cottage is located on Loch Fyne, which is a salt water lake on the west coast. Here's a taste:

     Sometimes you see places and you never want to stop looking at them and you never want to leave. That was me here. It was a place of unbelievable beauty. We stopped on the way to the cottage and got out to look over what I believe is called something like "The Valley of Rest and Peace." That is not exactly right, but it was a beautiful spot nonetheless:

I feel that even if that name is wrong, it fits. 

     After a little while longer driving, we arrived at the cottage. I could not believe how close it was to the water. High tide literally is up against the bottom of the cottage. The Munros - the family I was with - gave me a quick tour of the cottage and it was so nice. There is a sunroom right as you walk in the door that overlooks the lake, then a sitting room, kitchen, bathroom, and couple of bedrooms complete the downstairs. There was a ladder that went up to the attic that has been converted into a bedroom and it was great. It felt like the perfect adventure cabin or the perfect relaxing cottage, whichever you happen to be in the mood for. I got to sit in the sunroom for the afternoon and had a terrific view:

It is hard to see in this picture, but across the lake is an old ruined castle from the 14th century and hillsides full of fall colors. Over the course of just a few days I got to experience some amazing pieces of Scotland that are relatively untouched and so pretty. Someday, I would like to own a cottage right on the water. If it's in Scotland, so be it.

Healthy Heart

     There is something fascinating about the heart of things. Whenever you reach it, you feel that you really know whatever it is that contains that heart. In people it is reached over time and is brought out slowly as trust builds between them, and as the relationship grows the heart becomes more and more evident. The heart of a place is something that contains so much that is the epitome of that place. Scotland is unique because it offers both opportunities. As I have grown in relationships with people here I have begun to get a sense of the pulse and spirit of the people. But until last weekend, I had yet to experience the Heart of Scotland. It is an actual forest located in an area that could also be referred to as the heart of Scotland, right near the center. A beautiful forest on an average day I am sure, it was stunning last weekend when I got to visit. The autumn colors were fully on display and the sound of the rivers, waterfalls, and streams were present all around. Moss was everywhere and there were so many different types of trees! Much different experience than a Colorado forest to say the least.

     Some of my Scottish friends I have made while here, Jan and Malcolm, offered to take my American friend, Dan, and I along with their Northern Irish flat mate, Andrew, along for a weekend away to Aberfeldy to experience a great piece of Scotland. We stayed in a cottage next to a river:

     Our main objective for the weekend, aside from just enjoying some time away, was to climb a hill called Shiehallion (sha-how-yun, as far as I understand), which is a Gaelic word that according to Wikipedia means "fairy hill of the Caledonians." Check your sources, I do not know a single word of Gaelic. Now, having climbed at least one mountain in my life and having lived at higher elevation my whole life than the highest peak in Scotland, I figured this hike would be a walk in the park. And to be fair, the actual physical demand of the hike was not that high. Typically, however, a person does not expect to have to hike through a hurricane. As we made it up quite a bit of the hike it began to rain and the wind began to howl. The rain was horizontal and I had to walk leaning left just to walk straight. Being the rugged and experienced mountain man that I am, I had decided before the hike that jeans would not be a bad idea because it was cold. Again, I failed to take into account a chance for hurricane. As my jeans turned to "jeggings," my movement became impaired, and it was about this point that we lost the path. The weather was nuts, and we could not see all that far ahead of us, so shout out to the Eagle Scout, we decided it would be best to turn around.

We still got some great photos and certainly walked away with an incredible memory. I saw a boat I would love to own, although part of that may have been the setting:

And if that's my boat this would be my backyard:

And this would be my view from that dock:

So in the end, a failed hike did nothing to spoil the weekend. It was great, finished hike or not.

Black Belt of Imagination

     Momentous day in Glasgow today. I saw my breath for the first time this season. Since I have been little, this has always been a big day - at least in my head - since I love the slightly chilly weather, hot cup of coffee and walking around all day pretending I am smoking. Needless to say, first day of the year seeing my breath is an exciting day that gets me ready for Christmas and all things winter.

     Classes have begun to demand something of me, so I enjoy the feeling that I am learning in the classroom while over here. You know you haven't been working too hard when a 1500 word paper makes it seem like a big week. But as always, my learning is continuing outside the classroom. Glasgow has a reputation for being somewhat of a rough city. People have told me, although I have found no statistics in my quick search online, that Glasgow is nicknamed the "stabbing capital of the UK" and that people frequently get jumped or mugged here for sometimes no more reason than boredom. So I have been on my toes all the time when I walk around even when it is completely unnecessary because I am in a group or lots of other people are around. I am not paranoid, just alert, and I often play out scenarios in my mind where I am a much better fighter than in real life. Live free or die hard is the motto of my imagination.

     Through this I have realized that this is a good way to live life: always on your toes and anticipating potential scenarios so that you can be ready to act when the possibility becomes reality. I want to be prepared for anything life may throw at me and know how to respond. Knowing that will never be the case, I trust that I am in good hands and will be supplied with the means to be able to respond in the best way at a moment's notice. So don't worry, Mom. The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? Ps. 27:1.

Apple? Pumpkin? No - Humble

     The nature of study abroad is such that at some point I expect the studying to occur. I say that because, up until this posting, my studying has consisted of a few readings here and there while I sit and wait for the big exam at the end of the term that will comprise my entire grade. Not inherently being a worrier, I am far from stressed out about this, but if I had some form of school work to do I suppose the level of discomfort I feel would be somewhat smaller than it is. But the time will come when I will need to engage with my course work and at that point I will look at these past few weeks with longing in my eyes.

     Studying has taken a new form in Glasgow, however. It may be that my expectations of what studying while abroad would look like completely missed the point, and if that is the case, I hope I am beginning to come around. My studies have been conducted almost entirely outside the classroom since being here, and I love that. I have learned a lot about new ways of living, new ways of speaking, and really just new ways of being a person. With all that, it seems that up to this point, and probably even more as I spend more time here, my biggest assignments have been lessons in humility.

     Oftentimes familiarity is our greatest strength; it allows us to be ourselves and feel free to express who we are in an uninhibited way. When that familiarity of surroundings is no longer present, we cling for things to steady ourselves, and when those give way or prove different than expected, we quickly learn to become familiar with healthy doses of humble pie. For example, I thought in coming here that I knew a fair amount of Scottish history. Not in great detail of course, but at least some basics. Why did I think that? Because I have read a couple books on the subject. But in talking to Scots, I have discovered that I know little to nothing about Scottish history or modern day culture. When that is your life, or what is familiar to you, it takes on a whole new dimension than when they are seen as nothing more than words on a page. So I have learned to acknowledge my lack of education on the subject that is Scotland and have been taught quite a lot by a number of Scottish people whether the lesson was intended or not.

     One more quick story before I go: Since arriving in Glasgow, I have taken part in a few different clubs, but have really stuck with two of them. There is an American football team at the university here, and before you judge, I have never played football for a team in my life. In fact, I put pads of any sort on for the first time in my life tonight for practice. It is really brilliant (don't hassle me, I'm local), and only in a place other than America could I have the opportunity to play for an official team at a university level, so I am soaking up the chance. Now for the story. I am playing wide receiver currently for the team and they had me run a fade route (straight down the field) and have the quarterback throw it to me. I somewhat misjudged how far I would need to run and caught the ball right in the throat. I did hold on though, and, most importantly, I got a great bruise. Unfortunately, when I woke up the next morning, that bruise looked remarkably like a hickey. Embarrassing because the other group I am actively a part of is the Christian Union. "It's from a football, I promise."

      So humble pie I am served, and humble pie I eat. But I would not want it any other way. In moments of embarrassment and stupidity there is the greatest possibility for learning. Study abroad has been one of the best times of my life, and with possibility after possibility coming my way, learning just has to happen.