Whilst in the Peace Corps, I feel that I started devoting significantly more time to the spiritual journey I'm taking. While in the Peace Corps, I blogged a lot, and I spent a good deal of my time blogging about my spiritual journey. Given that this spiritual voyage is not going to end, I feel that I should continue blogging about it while I can. I love helping people, and I can potentially help others by sharing my spiritual exodus, which I can do through a blog.
However, I realize that I'm not always going to have spiritual commentary to make. Furthermore, I'm cognizant that I might share thoughts which may be either elementary or otherwise unhelpful to others. Nevertheless, I am starting this particular blog to share my journey, whether it be spiritual, merely geographical, or both.
I'm also starting this blog so that when people wonder where I am or how I'm doing, they can check this blog. Through the blog, people might perhaps also get an update on my whereabouts and how I'm spending my time.
Speaking of my travels, I left Morocco on October 17. My friend Yashieka visited me in Morocco for about a week before that. On October 17, we took a ferry from Tangier to Algeciras in Spain. When we arrived in Algeciras, we caught a taxi to Gibraltar, a ride which took perhaps 15 minutes. The taxi dropped us at "La Linea" on the Spanish side of the border. When we got out of the taxi, we walked across the border from Spain into Gibraltar, which is a British territory.
I enjoyed our brief stay in Gibraltar. I appreciated the formidable presence of The Rock Of Gibraltar. There are so many seagulls there, especially circling around The Rock, that I felt like I was on the movie set of a remake of the Alfred Hitchcock film "The Birds." I saw a beautiful sunset, pink and blue, as I strolled alongside a beach on that peninsula called Gibraltar.
After an overnight stay on Gibraltar, Yashieka and I caught a flight to London. Once we had landed at Heathrow, we parted ways, she soon to start making her way back to the states, me to mainland Europe for my further post-Peace Corps travels.
That day, I caught a train, the Eurostar, from London to Paris. I was grateful for its speedy arrival in Paris in only about two and a quarter hours. Upon my arrival at Gare du Nord in Paris, immediately I checked into a budget hotel which was clean, safe and quiet.
This morning I caught the 8:40 a.m. train from Gare de l'Est in Paris here to Luxembourg. This train also only took about two and a quarter hours to arrive. Upon arriving at the station, I went straight to the ticket window to pick up my ticket for the next train ride I'll take, which will be tomorrow. After obtaining that ticket, I walked the very short distance to my hotel and left one of my bags there.
Then I returned to the station, where I delighted in a salmon wrap at a cafe located there in the station. I like salmon, but I wasn't eating it while I lived in Morocco, save for an instance or two when I visited the states during my Peace Corps service. At the cafe in the station, I also had the best millefeuille I've ever had in my life, which I enjoyed with a cappuccino.
After I'd eaten that early lunch between 11:00 a.m. and noon, I headed out to explore the city of Luxembourg. First I set out to cross the river. Upon crossing the river, I spied a beautiful path set just a short way down from the road. I found the path below the road much more appealing than the road, so I descended on the path. Soon after I had set out on the path, I saw a woman with what appeared to be a stick of some kind disappearing behind some kind of paper. I considered that it indeed was a lovely setting in which to paint. I then did a double take and realized that she was not holding a paintbrush, and thus was not painting, but rather was holding chopsticks, and thus was eating. After this major misapprehension, I continued on my stroll through the riverside park.
I headed to the Cathedrale du Notre Dame. However, upon arrival at the cathedral, I learned that it will be closed until the 23rd. I had hoped to attend Mass at the cathedral.
A little while later in the afternoon, I entered the Protestant church in the part of the city known as "Ville Haute," which is part of the city which is at a relatively high elevation, set above the river. However, I soon ascertained that services are held at the Protestant church on Sundays.
Accordingly, I continued on my way. I soon decided to try to visit Neumunster Abbey. I had a slightly difficult time trying to get there. Finally I arrived at Neumunster Abbey, which is set down alongside the river, in the part of the city known as "Ville Basse," since it is a part of the city set at a lower elevation. However, I soon determined that it is no longer a functional abbey. It is now a cultural center.
Thus I set back out on my way once again. This time I found it much easier to get to my next destination, since I had spotted it almost directly down the road from the bridge under which Neumunster Abbey was set. I easily made my way to St. Matthew's Church. However, when I arrived at the church, I found no signs whatsoever on the church, let alone one which advised visitors of Mass times at the church.
Therefore, I set out on my way once again. This time I headed to Eglise du Sacre Coeur, which, in English, would be "Sacred Heart Church." When I arrived at the church, I gladly found a complete list of Mass times for every day of the week. I saw that there would be a Mass at 6:15 p.m., so I went back to the hotel to check in and leave my second bag in my hotel room.
After about a half hour respite at the hotel, I returned to Eglise Sacre Coeur for Mass. The Mass was entirely in French. Also the church was quite cavernous, and the sound echoed substantially in the church. Given these challenges, I understood very little of what was said during the Mass.
However, there in the church, I saw some posters affixed to the columns inside the church. One of them read, "Chretien, pas Chretien, qu'est-ce que ca change? Etre Chretien, c'est devenir comme le Christ." In English, this would read, "Christian, not Christian, what does that change? To be Christian, this is to become like Christ."
And herein lies the question, or perhaps I should rather say the inquiry, or perhaps even better, the quest, the goal, which lies before me. I feel that I have been charged with becoming as much like Christ as is possible. I know that I am faced with a considerable challenge here. I know that I am called to make significant changes in my life. So if you are wondering what thoughts have been running through my head for the last several months, and what is currently occupying my thoughts, now you know.
However, I realize that I'm not always going to have spiritual commentary to make. Furthermore, I'm cognizant that I might share thoughts which may be either elementary or otherwise unhelpful to others. Nevertheless, I am starting this particular blog to share my journey, whether it be spiritual, merely geographical, or both.
I'm also starting this blog so that when people wonder where I am or how I'm doing, they can check this blog. Through the blog, people might perhaps also get an update on my whereabouts and how I'm spending my time.
Speaking of my travels, I left Morocco on October 17. My friend Yashieka visited me in Morocco for about a week before that. On October 17, we took a ferry from Tangier to Algeciras in Spain. When we arrived in Algeciras, we caught a taxi to Gibraltar, a ride which took perhaps 15 minutes. The taxi dropped us at "La Linea" on the Spanish side of the border. When we got out of the taxi, we walked across the border from Spain into Gibraltar, which is a British territory.
I enjoyed our brief stay in Gibraltar. I appreciated the formidable presence of The Rock Of Gibraltar. There are so many seagulls there, especially circling around The Rock, that I felt like I was on the movie set of a remake of the Alfred Hitchcock film "The Birds." I saw a beautiful sunset, pink and blue, as I strolled alongside a beach on that peninsula called Gibraltar.
After an overnight stay on Gibraltar, Yashieka and I caught a flight to London. Once we had landed at Heathrow, we parted ways, she soon to start making her way back to the states, me to mainland Europe for my further post-Peace Corps travels.
That day, I caught a train, the Eurostar, from London to Paris. I was grateful for its speedy arrival in Paris in only about two and a quarter hours. Upon my arrival at Gare du Nord in Paris, immediately I checked into a budget hotel which was clean, safe and quiet.
This morning I caught the 8:40 a.m. train from Gare de l'Est in Paris here to Luxembourg. This train also only took about two and a quarter hours to arrive. Upon arriving at the station, I went straight to the ticket window to pick up my ticket for the next train ride I'll take, which will be tomorrow. After obtaining that ticket, I walked the very short distance to my hotel and left one of my bags there.
Then I returned to the station, where I delighted in a salmon wrap at a cafe located there in the station. I like salmon, but I wasn't eating it while I lived in Morocco, save for an instance or two when I visited the states during my Peace Corps service. At the cafe in the station, I also had the best millefeuille I've ever had in my life, which I enjoyed with a cappuccino.
After I'd eaten that early lunch between 11:00 a.m. and noon, I headed out to explore the city of Luxembourg. First I set out to cross the river. Upon crossing the river, I spied a beautiful path set just a short way down from the road. I found the path below the road much more appealing than the road, so I descended on the path. Soon after I had set out on the path, I saw a woman with what appeared to be a stick of some kind disappearing behind some kind of paper. I considered that it indeed was a lovely setting in which to paint. I then did a double take and realized that she was not holding a paintbrush, and thus was not painting, but rather was holding chopsticks, and thus was eating. After this major misapprehension, I continued on my stroll through the riverside park.
I headed to the Cathedrale du Notre Dame. However, upon arrival at the cathedral, I learned that it will be closed until the 23rd. I had hoped to attend Mass at the cathedral.
A little while later in the afternoon, I entered the Protestant church in the part of the city known as "Ville Haute," which is part of the city which is at a relatively high elevation, set above the river. However, I soon ascertained that services are held at the Protestant church on Sundays.
Accordingly, I continued on my way. I soon decided to try to visit Neumunster Abbey. I had a slightly difficult time trying to get there. Finally I arrived at Neumunster Abbey, which is set down alongside the river, in the part of the city known as "Ville Basse," since it is a part of the city set at a lower elevation. However, I soon determined that it is no longer a functional abbey. It is now a cultural center.
Thus I set back out on my way once again. This time I found it much easier to get to my next destination, since I had spotted it almost directly down the road from the bridge under which Neumunster Abbey was set. I easily made my way to St. Matthew's Church. However, when I arrived at the church, I found no signs whatsoever on the church, let alone one which advised visitors of Mass times at the church.
Therefore, I set out on my way once again. This time I headed to Eglise du Sacre Coeur, which, in English, would be "Sacred Heart Church." When I arrived at the church, I gladly found a complete list of Mass times for every day of the week. I saw that there would be a Mass at 6:15 p.m., so I went back to the hotel to check in and leave my second bag in my hotel room.
After about a half hour respite at the hotel, I returned to Eglise Sacre Coeur for Mass. The Mass was entirely in French. Also the church was quite cavernous, and the sound echoed substantially in the church. Given these challenges, I understood very little of what was said during the Mass.
However, there in the church, I saw some posters affixed to the columns inside the church. One of them read, "Chretien, pas Chretien, qu'est-ce que ca change? Etre Chretien, c'est devenir comme le Christ." In English, this would read, "Christian, not Christian, what does that change? To be Christian, this is to become like Christ."
And herein lies the question, or perhaps I should rather say the inquiry, or perhaps even better, the quest, the goal, which lies before me. I feel that I have been charged with becoming as much like Christ as is possible. I know that I am faced with a considerable challenge here. I know that I am called to make significant changes in my life. So if you are wondering what thoughts have been running through my head for the last several months, and what is currently occupying my thoughts, now you know.
Beautiful thoughts Doug. I love the quote from the French church's poster. I share that same ideal and mission for my life. May God lead you forward in the way of the cross by the power of the resurrection. Shalom!
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