Virginia

28.10.2014

So many firsts. First time flying out east. First time going on a plane with no adults. First time crossing into the U.S.A. by car. First time in the Maritimes. First time in Ontario. First time traveling with nobody other than my best friend. Firsts.

I'm kind of a weird person. It doesn't matter if I'm going on a vacation in Hawaii or California or Cuba... or traveling up to the Yukon. The popularity of the place, the beauty of the scenery, the class of the resort- it doesn't matter to me. At all. I just love stepping foot in places where I have never been before. It just gives me a thrill.

Experiencing things for the first time. That's where I get my excitement. I know that life is short, and I know the world is big. Traveling. Encountering. Learning. Seeing. Exploring. I just can't get enough of it.

People think I'm so strange when I try to express my excitement for flying over a certain province- or how I will talk nonstop about how I saw a different license plate. Yes, it's trivial. But it's also something new. 

As we made our descent toward the Toronto airport, I craned my neck to take in the massive city. I beheld what seemed to be infinitely long and thick glowing ribbons. And as we descended even closer to the ground, I saw that these were highways, jam-packed with vehicles. The headlights of thousands of cars illuminated the vast network of veins and arteries that pumped the light of traffic through the heart of the huge city. As we got even closer, I could finally distinguish the lights of individual cars, and they ceased to blend together. I watched the dots stop and go, merge and exit, turn and pass. I couldn't stop thinking of a biological video presentation, demonstrating the path of white blood cells through the body. Incredible. 

And to think that every passenger in every single one of the thousands of tiny white dots has their own name, and their own story. Praise God.

After our short layover in Toronto, (for which I am unashamed to report that I was definitely overly enthusiastic and talked my travel-buddy's ears off about how amazing it was that we were there,) we flew in a small propeller plane to Moncton, New Brunswick. But. The view. I cannot describe how amazing it is to chase the night.

We were flying east, which meant we were literally chasing the night. We soared into darkness. And the view from the plane was indescribable. The man in the window seat beside me must have felt like he was being scrutinized- I couldn't look away from the fields of clouds that we were soaring over. Honestly, the mountains of whipped cream that outlined a horizon of hills and spikes were breathtaking. The clouds that lay beneath us floated as thick and bubbly as a feather duvet. It formed a vast land of opaque pinkness.

As our arial transportation glided away from the sunset to the west, I saw our shadow cast on the cloudy ground below. And when I looked behind us, I was overwhelmed to see the semicircle of sun- the hottest, most vibrant pink I've ever seen. And as we continued to zoom toward the east and toward the black tendrils of night that curled over the sky, I saw the sun set. Fast motion. It took all of 20 seconds for that bright pink circle to become a blood red dot. And after that? Black.

Knowing the towns and cities we were flying over would see that amazing sunset all in turn made my heart skip a beat. In fact, everyone in Canada, one at a time, would get to experience that amazing view within a couple hours' time. But not like I did. They wouldn't see the golden-pink glow over the rolling plains of cloud. They wouldn't gaze as half of the sky, brilliantly bathed in pink, fled from the overpowering darkness that had already cloaked those in the east. They wouldn't see that sunset from that sky. 

Straining my eyes through the tiny plane window, I even saw another plane way in the distance. It looked like a tiny black figure flying in a perfect straight line past us. I imagined the people sitting in that aircraft who, just like me, did not want to pass up a moment of the beauty that they were flying through. 20,000 feet up with nothing attaching us to the ground... focusing on the effortless flotation of the beauty in he atmosphere so masterfully crafted by the Ultimate Architect certainly is a way to eliminate fear. In a world this vast, living in a body so small as a soul so insignificant- it allows one to ponder what really matters. I am blessed to be a person who has been taught what does matter, and to have people who encourage me to live accordingly.

As we flew deeper and deeper into the night, I looked down and saw that the sky had cleared, giving me a beautiful view of the cities of Quebec down below. It made me grin thinking of the little boys pointing at our plane and exclaiming, "Un Avion!!!" 

And now, here I am on New Brunswick soil- my first close-up view of the Maritimes. Here's to two weeks of experience and exploration! The adventure has just begun!

30.10.2014

Finally, a chance to stretch our legs and relax. We've been driving for the past 9 hours- all the way from the True North Strong and Free down here to Hartford, Connecticut. 

Other than the fact that we had to wake up at 5:30am (which was about 2:30am for us, as we were still on Alberta time), and other than the slight misfortune that I became very ill for the beginning of the drive and had to shout "Pull over!" a couple times... the going got good. We woke up once we got to the border. And, after crossing through smoothly, we were in Maine. I've heard so much about Maine and how beautiful it is in fall. I can now be a witness to that fact. The colours! The hills were rolling and the interstates were at such different levels- I didn't quite know where to look. 

But when we came to the peak of one of the mounds of forested land, I could look down and forward at the spreadsheet of yellow, red, orange, and green pom-poms. The colours of fall and the multitude of classy-looking bridges over calm blue streams and rivers- fantastic.I dozed off and on, but every time I woke up from a surprise nap, I would just jolt awake, afraid that I had missed something. The scenery was spectacular. I'll admit, I've always been biased against the United States of America, and in favour of Canada. And, although I am Canadian and am obliged to favour my own country, I had to admit to myself (and to everyone else in the vehicle multiple times over) how vastly beautiful the eastern states were in the fall. I was already in love. Who knew that this Western Island girl, used to Pacific weather, pine trees everywhere, mountains, and rain forest, would actually fall in love with the simple deciduous forests of these eastern states?

I dozed off and on, but every time I woke up from a surprise nap, I would just jolt awake, afraid that I had missed something. The scenery was spectacular. I'll admit, I've always been biased against the United States of America, and in favour of Canada. And, although I am Canadian and am obliged to favour my own country, I had to admit to myself (and to everyone else in the vehicle multiple times over) how vastly beautiful the eastern states were in the fall. I was already in love. Who knew that this Western Island girl, used to Pacific weather, pine trees everywhere, mountains, and rain forest, would actually fall in love with the simple deciduous forests of these eastern states? 

You know, it took us a good 4-5 hours to drive through Maine, from border to border. It was an enjoyable ride, to be sure! But it was longer than I was expecting. But when we passed the border into New Hampshire, I was expecting a good amount of time to pass before we crossed into the next state to the south. It shocked me when we were through the entire state in fourteen minutes. That's including the toll booths and everything! I know we just went the short route and to travel through New Hampshire lengthwise would have taken much longer- but coming from Alberta, a province so massive... and driving through the state of New Hampshire in 14 minutes... of course, it got me thinking. But then again, what doesn't get me thinking? 

Why, oh why, are there so many states? Why, oh why, do we have provinces and territories? Why, oh why, are there so many different countries on every continent? Why is our world so wrapped around the idea of boundaries? What ever happened to running wild, and living free? We call ourselves united, we consider our different countries as "neighbors." But really, the concept of borders and nationalism is so ingrained in our minds, it is nearly impossible to eliminate. As we drove through the states, I kept an eye out for different license plates. And when we were in Maine, I saw license plates from Nebraska, Pennsylvania, New York, and even one from Texas as often as I saw the license plates from Maine. In New Hampshire, it was the same deal. With 50 states and essential businesses and friends and families in different states, people can't keep in their own. Without them realizing it, every other state is just as important as their own. The only difference is that one of the states is their home state. 

But do you know what I noticed as I crossed into Maine, and then into New Hampshire, and then into Massachusetts, and then into Connecticut? They looked the same. The earth doesn't have borders. The earth that God created in the beginning is still the same earth today. Yes, it's changed. Islands have risen and sunken, volcanoes have erupted, tectonic plates have shifted, earthquakes have devastated... but this is still earth. And it has no borders. It is one world. And we are all on the same land, whether that land is above or below the water. We all share resources, we all reap the benefits of the earth. Yet, we feel the intense need to claim sections of it for ourselves, and fight against our brothers and sisters for portion of this land. The land itself is unbiased. And even when we "win" it, it is never truly ours. How can we own land? I mean really own it? We don't cause food to grow. We don't control the populations of deer, coyotes, and moose. That is all up to the hand of God and His miracle called nature.

In fact, these very speculations are partly what led me to title this extension of my blog, "Past the Borders." I want to be past those borders. I don't want to fall prey to the stereotypical nationalistic worldview that so many people find themselves in. Healthy rivalry in sports is fine, it's great! But, whether intentionally or not, it is nearly inevitable to look down on those from other countries. Especially those of us with this modern Western frame of mind. We are the best. We are superior. We are the centre. The smallest little differences cause us to look with disdain on others. It's amazing how many people care about whether 'colour' is spelled with or without a 'u,' just because it is a Canada vs. America thing. How stupid!

"Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders, let me walk upon the waters, wherever you may call me. Take me deeper than my feet will ever wander, where my faith will be made stronger, in the presence of my Saviour."

31.10.2014

Last night was beautifully refreshing for all of us. Maybe I'm weird, but everywhere I go to stay overnight, I hate closing the windows. I don't want to miss anything. I want to be in this new place. And closing the windows, to me, just feels like I'm trying to ignore my surroundings. No, when I go to a new town, city, province, country, or continent, I leave the windows open, and fall asleep to the sound of the city. Know why? Because every city is different. The sounds are different. I've fallen asleep to the sounds of the Southeast Asian rainforests with its lizards and crickets. I've fallen asleep to the sounds of late-night Spanish partiers on the streets of Guatemala, with planes taking off over my head. I've fallen asleep to the sound of a calm little village in the mountains of Guatemala. And last night, I fell asleep to the sounds of the city of Connecticut. Nothing very incredible, you might say, and you'd probably be right. But it's a new place. And I don't want to miss anything. Tonight, I will fall asleep to the sounds of the Virginian mountains, here at Massanutten Resort. Now, to relay a bit about the day.

Today took an interesting turn for the better. Waking up at 6:00 turned out to be much more gratifying than yesterday's 5:30 alarm. Although... the wake-up call we set at our hotel in Connecticut scared the willies out of me and I came jumping out of bed with a yelp. 

Anyways... enough of our morning endeavors. We set off under a clear blue sky and through tunnels of fiery red trees. Connecticut grew prettier the further Southwest we drove. For the first half hour or more, We were seeing so many signs pointing to "N.Y. City." I knew we didn't want to go there- we would get caught up in traffic and it would probably end up adding an hour to our trip or more. We routed our GPS to take us to Virginia without having to go through New York City. I'll admit, I was a little disappointed about that... Visiting New York would have been amazing. It's just so... famous. And like I said, I just love traveling and being in new places. However, I didn't complain, I settled for craning my neck and trying to catch a glimpse of the infamous cityscape of skyscrapers and needle towers. I didn't see them.

Just when I thought we had passed our last chance to catch a glimpse of the Centre of the Universe and were head to New Jersey for good- something happened. Them map said turn right. The GPS said turn left. We turned left- then slammed on the brakes in the middle of rush hour, drove to the curb, and reversed back to the fork in the road at 50 mph. Then we turned right. And it turns out that that bout of excitement was actually a very beneficial move for those of our company who were more excited about visiting different places than getting to our destination on time. (Hint: Me.) 

I didn't say anything, but we were against seeing the signs for New York. I whispered a little prayer for my petty little wish, and watched with anticipation as our GPS rerouted and rerouted and rerouted. The GPS lady must have thought we wanted a tour of New York City, because the next think I knew, I was staring at a very welcoming welcome sign. "Welcome to New York City." 

Talk about adrenaline! While our driver and accomplice were groaning, I was giggling. New York City. Just think! We accidentally found ourselves in the Heart of America. I don't think I blinked for the entire tour. We were in the Bronx. And oh, would you believe the bridges! My heart nearly stopped at least... seven different times. With eight levels of traffic and so many bridges all looking over the beautiful water- I was so pumped! 

The driving was insane, the roads were crowded, the bridges and exits weaved this way and that- I loved it. Couldn't live it, but I could love it. I felt like we were in the 'ghetto' part of New York city, and it made me giddy with delight. Adventures, am I right?

As we crossed the Alexander-Hamilton bridge, I could look out the window and view the silhouette of Downtown New York City perfectly against the hazy sky. Perfect.

Though our detour tacked a time on the end of our trip, it was so worth it. We headed over the bridge and into New Jersey, also a vast and busy-looking city. I can't imagine what it would be like to live in a place like that. It just feels.... dangerous.

When we got to Maryland, I again began counting how long it would take to get through. 8 minutes. 8 minutes flat. From border to border. That was Maryland. Phew.

And, after traveling through Pennsylvania and West Virginia, we made it. Virginia. We are at our beautiful Massanutten Resort- in our cabin on the summit of the mountain. From our quaint cabin bedroom, we can see through the window down into the valley below. Breathtaking, I tell you. The crisp scent of autumn in the mountains, the colours painted beneath us.

2.11.2014

Vacations can be mission trips, too. In fact, missions should just be the things we do every day in the likeness of Christ. Missions trips are just trips where we live like Christ somewhere else. But, in a world without borders, which is the image I am trying to adopt, there are no missions trips. There are missions. Missions anywhere and everywhere. It is the way you live, not an event you plan a year in advance. No, the mission field is where we are at this moment in time. Every person we see is on our radar on our mission field. So let's not get distracted with future events and distant "mission trips," and miss the mission that God has put right before our eyes. His people here are no less than His people elsewhere.

When I go places, I love to feel a part of that place. I want to blend in a little. I don't want to hang so tightly to my culture and specifics- I want to experience someone else's. That's why I leave the windows and curtains open, risky though it may be. That's why I research before I go. It's why I'm so intent on observing how different people interact. That's why on coming to the states, I decided to learn The Star Spangled Banner. I memorized it. I practiced.

Today I met a little 12-year-old girl named Rebecca. She lives in virginia. I met her at the waterpark while waiting in line for the ride. We talked. We laughed. I learned a lot about her. She learned a lot about me, and Canada. We compared and contrasted, discussed and learned about details in each other's lives. I stepped out. 

God didn't make us to be shy people. He made us to be bold. In fact, that's why He sent us His very nature in the form of Jesus Christ to show us that we are meant to be out there, with people, with strangers, with the most random crowds. 

My eyes are half shut, my mind is half dead, so I am done my little log for today. Whether it made complete sense or it sounds like I'm completely off my rocker, I don't care. I'm signing off for today.

5.11.2014

The past two days were filled with the wonder and beauty of God's creation. On Monday, we drove up Skyline Drive and got to experience the view overlooking the Virginian valley from many different points, climb through shrubs and bushes to find amazing peaks and lookouts, and drive right alongside a herd of people-curious deer. Yesterday, we visited the Shenandoah Caverns, and caught a glimpse into the depth of God's majesty. Not only did he shape the landscape to be so diverse and magnificent, but he stowed away secrets. He buried treasures deep underneath our feet, only to be found by the curious and adventurous.

I loved the contrast in the caves between the dark and the light. The sharpness of the stalagmites and stalactites, the reflections in the perfectly calm pools of water, the clarity of the constant drip, drip, drip. Everything just seemed so... raw. In fact, it was same with the drive up the mountainside, and the view of the Virginian countryside. It was the same with the peaceful deer grazing beside the road. It all felt untouched and unspoiled. I can only imagine what the Garden of Eden must have been like. Without any molecule of polluted air ever entering the atmosphere, how incredibly fresh and pure it must have been! With no forest fires, droughts, floods, earthquakes, or storms- how young and lively everything must have been. And there was no death! Imagine how green everything was. Nothing had to die, but everything could grow. The vibrant colours, the lush plant life, the playful animals... it would have been paradise.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the mysterious caverns yesterday, I began to see the brilliant sparkles in the mineral deposits. I saw the fantastic display of glitter and dust all over the walls. And can you imagine what my first response was? It wasn't to sigh with contentment. It wasn't to pause and stare in awe. It wasn't to thank God for His beauty. It was to take a picture. It was so hard not to fiddle for my camera every few seconds- I didn't ever want to forget the amazing sights I was seeing. And what I realized, partway through, was that I was spending more time looking at my camera screen than at the real thing. I was more concerned with capturing a mimicry on a screen of 10,000 pixels than I was with living in the moment. I was focusing on getting the memories on a device, not in my mind.

It's crazy to think that most of our days are spent staring at pixels. Little nearly microscopic dots that light up a certain colour to imitate an image of a real life thing. We're so fascinated with movies and games and shows and words all made up of these little dots. I'm staring at them right now, and so are you. They have become our life. The thing is, they are not real life. Look up from your screen and look at the closest thing to you. For me, that is the mirror across the room. It's not made of pixels. It's the real thing. It's the original. It is a real, 3-dimensional object in a real, 3-dimensional room. No pixels. Just reality. Now look back at your screen. It's almost scary how we can look at images on a screen and forget that they are not real. They look real. They can even look 3-D. But they are just dots on a screen absorbing our attention.

I want to break away from this box. This machine that shows me copycat images of real life experiences. I want to break away from my shutter-happy attitude. I want to stop snapping, and just start blinking. I want to impress these images on my mind instead of on film. When digital media competes against real, healthy imagination, the latter always wins. However, the more we spend in the digital world of internet and technology, the less and less vibrant our imaginations will be come. And then, when we step out onto the veranda and look over the wilderness, we won't see beautiful, real, raw creation. We will see dull boredom. Our eyes are being tricked. Our minds are being fooled into believing that the real entertainment is only a click away, but I beg to differ. God didn't create computers in Genesis for a reason. He did, however, create our legs. Our arms. Our hands. Our feet. Our eyes. Our nose. Our ears. Our tongue. He created our senses, and they are atrophying quicker than we know.

After I update this journal I will be shutting down this machine for a good long while. I'll open the windows. I'll star out at the mountains looming before me. I'll count the houses below. I'll pick out the unique trees. Maybe I'll spot some deer. I'll start noticing the details on the carpet, on my bedspread, on the furniture. I'll start feeling them, even. Because they are not made of pixels- they are real life. They are touchable. I want to be alive and able to feel, again. Good-bye, illuminated pixels!

8.11.2014

Back in New Brunswick, Canada, I am reclining in a cozy living room in front of a cozy fireplace in a cozy flannel lumberjack jacket. My stomach is warm and full of a delicious dinner, the hockey game is on in the other room, the cats are playing with the fraying strings on the couch.

My nose is still cold, and it sounds like winter has officially started  back in Alberta. Come Monday, I'll be enjoying a chilling -20. But for now, I am comfortable in the brisk East Coast.

We drove for nine hours yesterday, slept in Connecticut, and then drove for eight hours today. Things I miss about the States: 

-cheapness

-patriotism and respect for veterans

-an extended fall

Things I missed about Canada:

-the Metric System

-Tim Horton's

-Evergreens

-Home

Tomorrow will be our last day over here in New Brunswick. Monday morning we head towards the airport and then take off for Three Hills. It's been a wonderful vacation and when I get back to school on Wednesday for a whole boatload of homework and missed tests, I think I will be well rested and refreshed.