Isolated

I was faced with an uncomfortable fact about myself this weekend. After harboring perpetual fantasies of independence and “making it on my own,” the sudden experience of what it actually felt like to be completely isolated smacked me in the face.

Nothing truly dramatic happened. I was asked to dog sit for a family over the Thanksgiving holiday; so for an entire week it was just me and an old Labrador retriever hanging out in a quiet neighborhood. Being alone has never intimidated me. In fact, the prospect of solitude for extended amounts of time actually seemed like a perk. I enthusiastically made plans to read, write, work, catch up on my “must-see” movie list; even the idea of walking the dog in the peaceful wooded setting next to a running creek added a touch of romance to my expectations (no doubt encouraged by the Gothic novel I am currently reading). 

For the most part, all my expectations were met. I definitely enjoyed my days of peaceful solitude and independence, even though I did not see anyone for days at a time and was without access to a car. The house itself would have been completely bathed in silence had it not been for the whining dog, my momentary bursts of singing, the internet radio, and my multi-genre movie watching binge.

The problem did not surface until the sun set.

The open, flowing contemporary design of the home, which I adored during the day gave me a distinct feeling of unease at night. Every room had either a wall of windows or a skylight, so there was no escaping the dark outside view no matter where I went. Late at night, the dog would periodically run to one of the windows and start barking or growling. It was eerie to peak out the windows only to be startled by my own reflection. I constantly left all the doors locked.

When I went to bed, the house would creak and my over active imagination would turn them into footsteps. There were times when I even thought I heard whispering, which actually turned out to be the dog breathing at the foot of the bed. Needless to say, I did not sleep very well that week. I went to bed late so I could avoid having to turn all the lights off until the last possible moment and was awoken early every morning by the dog. Most days, I would curl up on the couch in broad daylight and try to nab a couple of hours of uninhibited rest.

The fear became so overwhelming one night that I was almost tempted to stay up on the couch until the sun rose. As a disclaimer, I am no stranger to the power of prayer or even to spiritual warfare. It actually did take some intensive prayer to finally get me to relax enough to go to bed (I prayed that Jesus would deliver me from the fear and He did, along with giving me a tender reminder that He had angels encamped around me).

But facing my own vulnerability was unnerving. The girl who had always been so content with the independence of single life suddenly found herself wishing for the security that a husband and family had to offer. All the dreams of traveling by myself and living on my own went flying out the window in favor wanting to have someone stronger nearby. It was quite a “reality check” moment.

Of course, I believe that God will protect me where ever He leads and that the safest place to be is the center of His will. I also believe in the power and might of God no matter what schemes the enemy might use against me. My problem was the fact that, in one week, all my ambitious dreams were squelched by a creaking house and snoring dog!

 It was definitely not what I was expecting from a week of solitude.

The Reading List Begins: Bonhoeffer

"The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.”  Dr. Seuss

Since I started my reading list, it has only gotten exponentially longer. The more I add, the more it looks as if I will be working on this particular goal for years (in which case it might have to be switched over to my bucket list).

The first book on my list was Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxas. The book is a biography of the German theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer who lived during both WWI and WWII and who is now considered to be one of the foremost Christian thinkers of the 20^th century.

There is a lot I can say about this book because it covered a plethora of historical, theological, and ethical issues while still managing to be a page turner. But, rather than recount every minute detail, I am simply going discuss the points that primarily grabbed my attention.

First, perhaps one of my most nagging questions about World War II was answered by reading Bonhoeffer’s story: How could an entire country with a strong Christian heritage be deluded into committing such atrocities? The answer, more or less, was that German patriotism was manipulated by politicians. The Nazis brought the German people a sense of pride in their country after the horror and humiliation of WWI and the Treaty of Versailles. A strong idea of what it meant to be German developed, which made everyone who was non-German (or non-Aryan) a lesser citizen in the eyes of the general population. Even though it was the SS and Gestapo who committed most of the atrocities, the public turned a blind eye and refused to believe what they considered to be propaganda.

 Following the historical progression was heart wrenching. I had always believed that such hatred was purely a hallmark of Nazi Germany and nothing so tragic could ever afflict modern Western Civilization again.  What this book made me realize was that a combination of economic troubles, political dissatisfaction, and willing ignorance on the part of the people were all it took to allow evil to rise. 

Perhaps even more disturbing was the fact that Dietrich Bonhoeffer was one of only a few who saw what was coming and actively tried to prevent it. Other Christian leaders and many of Bonhoeffer’s own colleagues tried to reason with Hitler because they refused to believe that he was maliciously working against Christian principles. It was startling to realize that the Holocaust might have been prevented if the Christian leaders in Germany had been united enough to challenge the government. Unfortunately, too many Christians believed that the Church should only get involved in church related problems. 

Following Bonhoeffer through his letters, journals, and through Metaxas’ commentary as he walked through this mess of twisted theology and politics was…insightful, inspiring, thought provoking, sad, joyful…It was reassuring to discover that there were many in Germany who hated Hitler and the Nazis and who tried to depose them using any means necessary. But, at the same time, it was a hard truth to come by that most Germans were not the monsters I wanted them to be. They were just people with human faults and flaws. The only thing that set Bonhoeffer apart from the manipulated masses was his reliance on the Word of God.

Many Christians during that time had warped the Bible to fit their own ideas. Bonhoeffer, in contrast, believed that the Bible was the foundation and starting place of principles. He took what the Bible said seriously and tried to let it explain itself rather than filtering it through preconceived ideas.  The fact that Bonhoeffer stood with the Jewish people when it was considered unpatriotic to do so (a death wish by German standards) was a testament to his commitment to Biblical truth no matter what the cost.

I would like to note that this biography is the type of book that needs to be read multiple times to fully grasp its contents. I have only read it once; therefore my understanding is still perhaps a bit dim. But, even so, this book is likely to become influential in regards to how I interpret future political and religious issues. I would definitely encourage everyone to read Bonhoeffer. It is inspiring, thought provoking, and, most importantly, it shows that reading and believing the Word of God is the only thing that separates mankind from becoming either the manipulated or the monsters.

Metaxas, Eric. Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2010. Print.

Sky Diving: I Actually Did It!

        
          Sky diving was one of those things I always imagined happening way down the road......way, waaaayyy down the road. I would eventually do it of course, if for no other reason than to put my money where my mouth was after years of declaring that I had no fear of heights.
          Unexpectedly, my aunt got wind of my desire to jump out of a plane...and the rest was history. She not only encouraged me to do it, but also decided to come along for the adventure.
          So, on October 12 my aunt, my sister Caleigh, Ashley, and I all made the journey to the Triangle Sky Diving Center in Louisburg, NC. It was a beautiful day (which completely ruled out the possibility of delay due to weather). Upon arrival, we were directed to a side room by a nice woman who explained the legal procedure.
          We basically signed our lives away.
          The wait was somewhat long since we had gotten there early. We were allowed to go into the adjacent hanger in the meantime. Amazingly, I felt very relaxed about the whole thing; this was even in spite of the fact that one of the people who went before us broke his ankle (you are supposed to lift your legs when landing so that the instructor's feet hit first...that guy didn't).
          Our group was made up of all girls (excluding my uncle who was patiently waiting for us), so we chit-chatted and took pictures in some glittery fairy wings that Ashley had brought.

Wishful thinking :)

We even joked about jumping out of a plane and, in a few seconds, getting to see Jesus in heaven. Ashley said that she would love to get something broken because it would become a great story:
         "How'd you break your leg?"
         "Oh, this? It happened while I was sky diving last week."         
       

         My mother was unappreciative of those comments.
         After the wait, the instructors who we would be jumping with came in to suit us up. They gave us a 5 minute lecture that went so fast I barely heard what was said. I was thankful that everyone repeated the instructions multiple times on the ground and in the air so that when it came time to dive it was basically ingrained into my memory. All the gear was double and triple checked (which was reassuring) and then we were off!

Caleigh getting double checked

          The seats of the plane were parallel to the windows, so we had to straddle them. I was in the back near the cockpit (the hatch was at the tail-end of the plane). My aunt was up front with her instructors, Ashley was second, and Caleigh was seated across from me. Both my aunt and Ashley decided to get their dive filmed, so they both had professional photographers with them.
          As we took off, I had the epiphany that I was more relaxed at the thought of jumping out of an airplane at 13,500 feet than I was before performing a recital or giving a speech. For some strange reason, that thought encouraged me.
          We were not in the plane long, but I enjoyed the ride anyway. At a certain point, we were so high that it stopped registering that I was looking at the ground from over 2 miles away. It seemed like I could simply step out and touch the earth in a few feet. 
          After the plane leveled out, the man closest to the door lifted the hatch and was gone before I could blink. Wind was rushing into the cabin and the temperature dropped. My aunt and her team were out in a few seconds. The instructor that was strapped to my back was speaking into my ear reminding me to breath. A few more seconds and Ashley was out and dropping fast.
          My turn. I don't think I could have backed out even if I had wanted to at that point. We shuffled to the opening and I went down my left knee. The instructor scooted us to the very edge.
          He was yelling into my ear again: "Ready!" We rocked forward and back. "Set!" We rocked again. "Arch!" 
          Wind. Lots and lots of wind. The adrenaline was pumping, my hands were freezing, my goggles felt loose...and it felt like I was being held up by a gigantic fan. There was absolutely no sensation of falling. None. Not even a stomach-in-your-throat feeling.
          60 seconds later, the instructor tapped me on the shoulder to let me know that he was about to deploy the parachute. There was a jerk and suddenly we were floating.
          The clear October sky was a stunning backdrop to the brownish earth. My instructor told me I could remove my goggles so I got take in the view uninhibited. I was smitten.
          The instructor guided the chute down, taking us in several 360's in the process (he asked if I suffered from motion sickness first; I said "No").

          As we approached, he told me to lift my legs for 8 seconds as we landed. I managed for 2 seconds before realizing that I wouldn't be able to hold them up for that long. So I dropped them for 2 seconds (with my instructor screaming in my ear), and then finally lifted them again until we glided safely to the earth. 

Walking back to the hanger after a safe landing

          Everyone who had jumped landed safe, unharmed, and completely exhilarated! We all wanted to immediately go again!
          If there was one thing I could tell people about sky diving, it would be that the preliminary trepidation is worse than the action itself...but at the same time, the experience would not have been as exciting without the pre-dive nerves to get the adrenaline pumping. A strange paradox to say the least, but it was worth experiencing none the less.
          All in all, sky diving was by far one of the coolest things I have ever done. Even though I am happy to have it checked off my Knot List, I'm already trying to figure out when I can go again :)