With our blogs combined... we are too long of a post.

This post is actually two night's worth writing put into one. Feel free to take your time, for it is an incredibly long post. As you can see by the picture, we are sitting outside on a Sunday night in some sort of outside bar/café area. “Jazzve Coffee” is the name. As usual, people are staring at Tommy trying to figure out what animal he killed to put on his head. Little do they know that he is a vegan, and that thing on his head is just two years of unkempt hair. Though the culture here is wonderful and the people incredibly friendly, I have never been around so many smokers since the last time I was in the Las Vegas airport. Tonight at dinner (what an experience that was, see below) a man walked in and began smoking a cigarette. My honey chicken tasted wonderful with the hint of Noy Brand Cigarettes. Simply put, it’s been a wonderful few days. On Friday we had the privilege of being invited to a disabled center in a village just outside of Yerevan, which is the capital of Armenia. What a fascinating time! Not only was the drive over there a treat, as our taxi had to be restarted nearly 6 times on our way to the Philadelphia Center (the disabled center), but the entire day was an incredible cultural indulgence. The first sight that we saw as we pulled up was a man, Hovannes (Jonathan) or Hovo (Jon), coming down the stairs from the center greeting us with open arms, a smile, and a camera in his hand. We’ve been told that the mentally and physically handicapped are somewhat cast aside around here, so I imagine that for them to have anyone come in and lovingly care for their students, help them paint, and simply be there means the world to them. In my 23 years of living, I have never been as imaginative or creative as some of these students in their artwork. Sergi, a mentally handicapped man in his 30’s, had made upwards of about 20-25 sculptures that were just fantastic. (Just to let you know, I just drank a great coffee/ice cream drink at this café. You should be jealous.) In each fissure of his work held evidence of the amount of work that went into each piece of art. Speaking of artsy individuals, the young adults of NLI prepared an art show as somewhat of an outreach event. We had the privilege of attending and seeing some photographs and paintings. Again, my art creativity is nothing when compared some of these individuals. Perhaps I should just spend a year over here and become a professional artist. Knowing me, though, there is no hope. Other than the fact that it was 85 degrees inside the room and all of us were already tired and our feet near dead, I would say that the NLI students put on a great show. Humble hearts mixed with hands created to create equals God in action. I need to look at our schedule to remember what we did day by day. Yesterday was nice. More Armenian cultural enlightenment by way of heading to Garni-Geghard. In Garni, there is the “church in the rock.” Literally, it was a former pagan temple turned Christian church carved into a rock. It was also one of six Christian churches to remain standing after the Soviets came into Armenia. Fascinating culture over. If you ever get a chance, buy a plane ticket and cruise on over here. ……………… So, last night before I could post the rest of this blog, my computer ran out of juice and by the time we got back to the hostel, I was too tired to do anything. Luckily, Anne has more common sense than I do and she stayed in the hostel to finish her blog. Thanks Anne! Where did she leave off? I believe she talked about the Bazaar? We got back into Yerevan from Garni and we entered the Bazaar. Let me tell you; it was bizarre (get it? Bazaar… bizarre. I’m hopeless.) I paid about 90 dollars for a painting, a full size Armenian flag, and a few other things. In America, I would be broke. I love it here. The little money that I do have gets me a long way around here. Let me finish this off with some final thoughts on what we did today as well as some spiritual reflections on my part. Today was something unique. When people speak of mission’s trips, there seems to always be some mentioning of an orphanage here or there. So, here is the mentioning. Today we headed to a couple of orphanages. Both were quite different in whom they housed, but both were on level when it came to housing and loving children who would elsewhere be tossed aside and forgotten. At the first orphanage we were able to witness some really magnificent children. Two sung for us, and both were touching. It’s funny how words don’t matter if song is beautiful. The songs were in Armenian, but I would be a liar if I said that my eyes did not well up during their performance. After Joe did some juggling, which, by the way, is always outstanding, we headed out to the yard to do some work. God graced us with exceptional weather today, again, so the yard work was really quite enjoyable. As Anne mentioned, the ladies played volleyball and picked some weeds. The men, on the other hand, had to clear out a side yard, which was filled with rocks, weeds, trash, and some of the finest specimens of large spiders I had ever seen. As we moved these large rocks (or in Don’s case, pebbles) a few mice scurried out and through our legs to find a new home. We finished up, shook some hands and picked up a terrific drawing that a child did of the creator of the Armenian alphabet, Saint Mesrop Mashtots (yes, mash-tots). You’ll be able to see this drawing in the church office. After that, we headed to another orphanage. At this next orphanage were children that had been born with mental or physical defects. What an emotionally trying time. Speaking personally, I felt I wanted to stray away from saying anything after the experience for fear that my inner being would be exposed and my words would be too raw and untested. We walked from classroom to classroom, seeing the work that had been done regarding the reupholster of the buildings and to meet the children (ages 3-6) we would be working with for the allotted time. Of course, I had to go to the restroom before we headed into the “main event” as I like to call it. After getting lost, a helpful nurse finally pointed me into the right direction and I entered a room in which about 10-15 young children sat in a row at the front of the room, one of who was singing. Cute. She sang. We clapped. She sang again. We clapped again. Joe juggled. These were all good and well, but the next half hour was when I was truly moved. We were given stickers and stuffed animals to hand out to each child. We were able to put stickers on the shirts, hands and faces of each child. Hilarity ensued. What happened to being amazed by such things such as having stickers being put on our face; Or having a stuffed animal being rubbed against our cheek? No child said the sticker was too sticky or the stuffed animal was too harsh against their skin. Rather, we ambassadors of Christ were given smiles and giggles, hugs and kisses and acceptance. I’ve always been somewhat jaded when it came to short terms missions. I felt as though it was something that people did in order to get their spiritual fill and feel as though they had made a difference in the world. I can be a fairly negative person, and often I will say that helping one person just isn’t worth it. See what I mean? But something occurred to me today. Something that perhaps we all are hoping for, but never acknowledge. On our way to Gumri, I got a great chance to pick up “The Return of the Prodigal Son” by Henri Nouwen. In here, I read the words “inner place.” I meditated over them and wondered what my inner place was? I wondered if I had been to this place and if so, have I allowed myself to make myself comfortable there? Not everyone on this mission’s team is alike. We all chose to come on this trip for various reasons. Perhaps it was to help the helpless and love the unlovable. Either way, we are all faced with our inner place. For some of us, and this includes me without a doubt, this inner place is too dark or too true for us to handle, but we appeal to our curiosity and take a peak. Through our working with orphans and the NLI students we all have been faced with a harsh reality. For me, though, I cannot say what this reality is. Perhaps it is too soon, and my writing would be too confidential to share with you readers. Know this, my faithful prayer warriors. You are not only thinking and praying for those we are helping, or even our strenuous schedule and dealings with each other. No, you are praying for something much deeper and much more meaningful. Yes, you are coaxing God to reveal Himself to His people in Armenia as well as yourselves. Dive into that deep fissure that we so often try to hide from others and ultimately ourselves. Throw yourself into the mercy of the Cross, and face the demons that so often haunt you, causing you to be wary in your faith and shallow in your relationships. It’s 11:30, which explains the atrociously long blog. Thank you for your patience, prayers and uncompromising love for our team. I hope to bring back lots of pictures, and better yet, lots of stories of Christ’s love in action over here. Funnies: 1) Tommy is a celebrity… still 2) A little girl pulled on my beard today… and it hurt bad 3) The driving is still dangerous… but we’re putting bets on all of our lives 4) Armenian rap music 5) Don Gray… all that needs to be said. ☺