Off to Monteverde!

     I'm leaving the cozy confines of my homestay this weekend to go to the rain forest and zip line, rappel through a waterfall, and other fun and probably ill-advised activities. I'll be back Sunday, and you can expect a new post on Monday. Until then, here's a thought to ponder...

     I read an article earlier this week about the memories of the niece of Venerable Archbishop Fulton Sheen, who was the first televangelist and the most recognizable Catholic of the mid 20th century besides the Pope. She said that often, when she and her uncle were walking in public, people would come up to him and plead for money. He always gave each beggar $20, regardless of how far-fetched and absurd their story. One time she asked him if he ever worried whether the beggars, knowing his charitable nature, were taking advantage of him by making up stories. How could he be sure they really needed help? He responded that he was sure some were, but that he could not take the chance.

     How often do we take that chance?

On Freedom

     Often times, when people find out I am a devout Catholic, there is a look of pity, sometimes even incredulity, that appears on their faces. They will rarely come out and say it directly, but it is obvious that the question of why is running through their heads. Why give of your time and treasure in the name of a man who lived 2,000 years ago? Why follow a Church that has been so flawed historically? Why be willing to sacrifice the tangible pleasures of this world for a belief, a gamble, that may not exist? Ultimately, all these questions hint at a larger one: why give up my freedom?

     Last night, I began reading G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy (accessible for free by clicking the link). This book, essentially an autobiography detailing how the early 20th century writer and lover of philosophy came to find freedom and a satisfied life within the "constraints" of Christianity, is one that I have been meaning to get to for a long time. I am only 40 pages in (it's about 120 pages long), but I can safely say that it has already given me more to think about than most books of considerably greater length. To my surprise, Chesterton addresses the very question of liberation in Christianity in a way that  I never thought to consider. He writes:

The Christian is quite free to believe that there is a considerable amount of settled order and inevitable development in the universe. But the materialist is not allowed to admit into his spotless machine the slightest speck of spiritualism or miracle...The Christian admits that the universe in manifold and even miscellaneous, just as a sane man knows that he is complex. The sane man knows that he has a touch of beast, a touch of the devil, a touch of the saint, a touch of the citizen. Nay, the really sane man knows he has a touch of the madman. But the materialist's world is quite simple and solid, just as the madman is quite sure he is sane...Spiritual doctrines do not actually limit the mind as do materialistic denials. Even if I believe in immortality I need not think about it. But if I disbelieve in immortality I must not think about it. In the first case the road is open and I can go as far as I like; in the second the road is shut.

     To live in the world and believe that this world contains the sum total of existence is the most limiting doctrine to which one can adhere. If this world is the alpha and the omega, then existence is, to again borrow Chesterton's imagery, a circle. The world, like the circle, is fixed. There is no destination except to return to one's original state of nothingness. For the non-believer, what is life but a brief trip around the circle? One can accumulate much in the way of worldly riches, but must give them up before coming to rest in the grave. Chesterton calls this life "centripetal" because it pulls everything into the world's confined space.

     Conversely, Christianity, and especially Catholicism, is centrifugal. At the heart of a Christian life is the Cross. The Truth of the Cross-- that the Creator would enter the World and give up life to ransom humanity's sin-- confounds logic and reason. It stirs and spins our consciousness, our very souls, in such a manner that we are liberated from the circle before reaching its end. Knowing this frees us from limiting ourselves to the pleasures of the world.
   
      While Chesterton says that non-believers must not think of immortality, I would add that many must   not think of death either. It is a jolt to hear that someone is dying, and often the expression is used as an exaggeration ("I feel like I'm dying").  The reality that most cannot reconcile is that, if this world is it, then we are all dying; each breath draws us closer to the end of existence. If the non-believer is to be believed, then life itself is a terminal illness. What a cruel joke that would be, that we were born to die! Thus, the majority of non-believers go on living with an almost necessary aloofness to the reality of their doctrine. They build careers, worry about the future, and even do acts of selfless charity for the benefit of others. Yet what do any of these things matter if the world ends with your death? What does the well-being of another matter if he and she will be following you down the path of non-existence in short order? Likewise, it always amuses me that many atheists show great reverence for the environment. It makes sense on a certain level that this would be the case: for the environment has more staying power than an individual. But even the environment, if we are to believe that scientific models will run their course without a God to intervene, will one day become uninhabitable once our Sun runs out of energy or an asteroid finds Earth's path through the cosmos once again. And at that moment the environment will die no less a death than every human who inhabited it theretofore. Thus, for an atheist to care for anything except their own fleeting life is a mere plea for meaning: an attempt to throw the baton of purpose we all hold in our psyches behind us in hopes a bit of our essence will be able to live on with another runner in the race to death, past the time when our corporal selves are rendered to dust. The problem is that existence without God, life in the circle that is, does not permit the extension we so desperately crave. And our craving is a proof that it exists, in my opinion. Just as hunger hints at the existence of food and fatigue lets us know that sleep is a real phenomenon, our longing for immortality suggests that that very immortality is not only possible, but an unalterable fact.

     Yet just as a person can ignore their hunger and remain hungry, just as a person can restrict their sleep and remain fatigued, so too can a person ignore their immortality and remain trapped in this finite world, free only insofar as they can dull their minds to meditating on their own cowardice. It takes a strong person to believe without understanding fully all the ways of God. Only a fool believes only of what has already been revealed to him. Our society reveres such non-believers as free thinkers and intellectuals, but they are barely more than bullies and control-seekers, people who would much rather, in lieu of paying rent in God's penthouse, own an outhouse and complain about those who accepted God's generosity.

     Society is unsettled by Christianity because it, like Jesus himself, is a sign of contradiction. I would be lying if I said that following Christ is all fun. There was tremendous suffering in Jesus' life; he was a man scorned, mocked and abandoned. As followers of Christ, we suffer in emulation. There is a reason we Catholics wear ashes on our foreheads on Ash Wednesday: we are dust and to dust we shall return. But if we turn away from sin and are faithful to the Gospel, then we will find eternal life after our deaths. Thus, there is joy in suffering when it is freely accepted and even desired, if it draws us closer to Christ. This is the ultimate freedom: freedom from death. The authentic Christian has no fear of death. The truly authentic Christian even dares to anticipate and long for death--not in a suicidal way--but as a means to arrive to the glory of Heaven. To live as such necessitates a detachment--a liberation--from worldly possessions. Only then are we free, like the apostles, to drop everything and follow Jesus.

     So who is more free? Is it I, who can live in this world yet dream of one to come which is far more enjoyable? I, who hold nothing material of such value that I am a slave to it? Or is it the one who lives only for a time in this world, constrained with the knowledge of his or her own mortality? The one who is beholden to gadgets or alcohol or drugs or money or a million other passing pleasures that must be perpetually restocked and financed at the expense of one's freedom to feel fulfilled without these dependencies. Perhaps the preceding questions were a bit leading, but in any event and I am here to proclaim that there is freedom, complete freedom, in Christ. It is the freedom to choose the good.

Counting Costs

     Today's post is an excerpt from C.S. Lewis' classic Mere Christianity. There's enough in these few paragraphs to reflect on for a lifetime, in my opinion...

I find a good many people have been bothered by what I said in the previous Chapter about Our Lord's words, `Be ye perfect.' Some people seem to think this means 'Unless you are perfect, I will not help you'; and as we cannot be perfect, then, if He meant that, our position is hopeless. But I do not think He did mean that. I think He meant 'The only help I will give is help to become perfect. You may want something less: but I will give you nothing less.'

Let me explain. When I was a child I often had toothache, and I knew that if I went to my mother she would give me something which would deaden the pain for that night and let me get to sleep. But I did not go to my mother-at least, not till the pain became very bad. And the reason I did not go was this. I did not doubt she would give me the aspirin; but I knew she would also do something else. I knew she would take me to the dentist next morning. I could not get what I wanted out of her without getting something more, which I did not want. I wanted immediate relief from pain: but I could not get it without having my teeth set permanently right. And I knew those dentists; I knew they started fiddling about with all sorts of other teeth which had not yet begun to ache. They would not let sleeping dogs lie; if you gave them an inch they took an ell.

Now, if I may put it that way, Our Lord is like the dentists. If you give Him an inch, He will take an ell. Dozens of people go to Him to be cured of some one particular sin which they are ashamed of (like masturbation or physical cowardice) or which is obviously spoiling daily life (like bad temper or drunkenness). Well, He will cure it all right: but He will not stop there. That may be all you asked; but if once you call Him in, He will give you the full treatment.

That is why He warned people to 'count the cost' before becoming Christians. 'Make no mistake; He says, 'if you let me, I will make you perfect. The moment you put yourself in My hands, that is what you are in for. Nothing less, or other, than that. You have free will, and if you choose, you can push Me away. But if you do not push Me away, understand that I am going to see this job through. Whatever suffering it may cost you in your earthly life, whatever inconceivable purification it may cost you after death, whatever it costs Me, I will never rest, nor let you rest, until you are literally perfect-until my Father can say without reservation that He is well pleased with you, as He said He was well pleased with me. This I can do and will do. But I will not do anything less.'

And yet - this is the other and equally important side of it - this Helper who will, in the long run, be satisfied with nothing less than absolute perfection, will also be delighted with the first feeble, stumbling effort you make to-morrow to do the simplest duty. As a great Christian writer (George MacDonald) pointed out, every father is pleased at the baby's first attempt to walk: no father would be satisfied with anything less than a firm, free, manly walk in a grown-up son. In the same way, he said, 'God is easy to please, but hard to satisfy.'

The practical upshot is this. On the one hand, God's demand for perfection need not discourage you in the least in your present attempts to be good, or even in your present failures. Each time you fall He will pick you up again. And He knows perfectly well that your own efforts are never going to bring you anywhere near perfection. On the other hand, you must realise from the outset that the goal towards which He is beginning to guide you is absolute perfection; and no power in the whole universe, except you yourself, can prevent Him from taking you to that goal. That is what you are in for. And it is very important to realise that. If we do not, then we are very likely to start pulling back and resisting Him after a certain point. I think that many of us, when Christ has enabled us to overcome one or two sins that were an obvious nuisance, are inclined to feel (though we do not put it into words) that we are now good enough. He has done all we wanted Him to do, and we should be obliged if He would now leave us alone. As we say 'I never expected to be a saint, I only wanted to be a decent ordinary chap.' And we imagine when we say this that we are being humble.

But this is the fatal mistake. Of course we never wanted, and never asked, to be made into the sort of creatures He is going to make us into. But the question is not what we intended ourselves to be, but what He intended us to be when He made us. He is the inventor, we are only the machine. He is the painter, we are only the picture. How should we know what He means us to be like? You see, He has already made us something very different from what we were. Long ago, before we were born, when we were inside our mothers' bodies, we passed through various stages. We were once rather like vegetables, and once rather like fish: it was only at a later stage that we became like human babies. And if we had been conscious at those earlier stages, I daresay we should have been quite contented to stay as vegetables or fish - should not have wanted to be made into babies. But all the time He knew His plan for us and was determined to carry it out. Something the same is now happening at a higher level. We may be content to remain what we call `ordinary people': but He is determined to carry out a quite different plan. To shrink back from that plan is not humility; it is laziness and cowardice. To submit to it is not conceit or megalomania; it is obedience.

Here is another way of putting the two sides of the truth. On the one hand we must never imagine that our own unaided efforts can be relied on to carry us even through the next twenty-four hours as `decent' people. If He does not support us, not one of us is safe from some gross sin. On the other hand, no possible degree of holiness or heroism which has ever been recorded of the greatest saints is beyond what He is determined to produce in every one of us in the end. The job will not be completed in this life: but He means to get us as far as possible before death.

That is why we must not be surprised if we are in for a rough time. When a man turns to Christ and seems to be getting on pretty well (in the sense that some of his bad habits are now corrected), he often feels that it would now be natural if things went fairly smoothly. When troubles come along - illnesses, money troubles, new kinds of temptation - he is disappointed. These things, he feels, might have been necessary to rouse him and make him repent in his bad old days; but why now? Because God is forcing him on, or up, to a higher level: putting him into situations where he will have to be very much braver, or more patient, or more loving, than he ever dreamed of being before. It seems to us all unnecessary: but that is because we have not yet had the slightest notion of the tremendous thing He means to make of us.

I find I must borrow yet another parable from George MacDonald. Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurt abominably and does not seem to make sense. What oil earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of-throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.

The command Be ye perfect is not idealistic gas. Nor is it a command to do the impossible. He is going to make us into creatures that can obey that command. He said (in the Bible) that we were 'gods' and He is going to make good His words. If we let Him - for we can prevent Him, if we choose - He will make the feeblest and filthiest of us into a god or goddess, a dazzling, radiant, immortal creature, pulsating all through with such energy and joy and wisdom and love as we cannot now imagine, a bright stainless mirror which reflects back to God perfectly (though, of course, on a smaller scale) His own boundless power and delight and goodness. The process will be long and in parts very painful; but that is what we are in for. Nothing less. He meant what He said.

Weekend Trip to Montezuma ( with Photos!)

     So this weekend 11 friends and I went to Montezuma, a small forest and beach town on Costa Rica's Pacific Coast. The weather was exceptional and the scenery was gorgeous. Living so close to the Great Lakes most of my life, the salinity of the Ocean waves is still a shock and ongoing adjustment.

     In the days leading up to this trip, I had been a little worried taking a whole weekend off and falling behind on homework and some projects due in the next couple of weeks. Once I got to Montezuma, however, those worries quickly melted away. Walking through the forest and hearing the beautiful calls of the various tropical birds that were hiding in the foliage overhead, I reflected on what Jesus said regarding suffer: Look at the birds of the air: they neither reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not more valuable than they? And which of you by being anxious can add one second to his life span? (Mt 6:26-27) We can glorify God through laying down our worries and doubts, which provide us no benefit, and taking up the mantle of trust and faith in He who knows our deepest wants and, more importantly, most pressing needs.

     The theme of trust continued this weekend on Saturday morning. After getting up early to watch the sun rise over the ocean, I was reading morning prayers and drinking coffee in the outdoor lounge when my friend Colin sat down and joined me. We began conversing and he showed me one of the daily prayers he recites, one I had never before seen. It's a Covenant Prayer written by Methodism's founder John Wesley:

I am no longer my own, but thine.

Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.

Put me to doing, put me to suffering.

Let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee,

exalted for thee or brought low for thee.

Let me be full, let me be empty.

Let me have all things, let me have nothing.

I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal.

And now, O glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,

thou art mine, and I am thine.

So be it.

And the covenant which I have made on earth,

let it be ratified in heaven.

Amen.

     Reading that prayer led me to do an examination of my own conscience, during which I realized that I have not been as humble and patient with others lately as I want others to be with me. It is easy to criticize others for their faults and join others in pointing them out. On the other hand, it is quite difficult, even a form of suffering, to willingly overlook somebody's flaws in acknowledgment that, regardless of their shortcomings, they are still a child of God and endowed with the same dignity and respect you and I pridefully expect to be afforded.



     Looking back with a clear head at how I have talked about some people during the past month, I feel ashamed and disappointed. These sins of pride are not small matters, for what would happen to us if God dealt with us as severely as we deal with others. Yet in Psalm 130 I find comfort: If thou, O Lord, should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand? But there is forgiveness with thee. (Ps 130:3-4) In God, there is the forgiveness we often withhold giving others. That is certainly something to consider the next time harsh words about another are about to exit our mouths. If we are truthful with ourselves, there are probably more harsh words we can utter about ourselves than about everyone else we know combined. The choice, then ought to be first between silence or self-critisism. Operating as such, I think one would find a lot less noise polluting our peace.

Getting My Just Desserts...or Partially Over-Cooked Fish

     Can't shake the feeling that my host mom was testing me tonight,. I sat down at the dinner table and found a plate of delicious food was already awaiting my consumption. The only problem was the fish was left cooking a bit too long and it's consistency was more like a shoe than tilapia. Anywhere else, I would have asked for a different piece or at the very least chosen to discard of it. Yet here, for whatever reason, I have been extremely hesitant to give my mother any negative feedback on her cooking. And that's not to say I've been faking--this was the first time that I have had a major problem with anything in the month I've been eating under her roof. Rather, I've just been unwilling to make any critique or substitution to her menu. Perhaps it's her sweetness or perhaps it's the passive-aggressiveness that permeates through this country, but I vowed to myself that I would treat all dinners like mailmen treat their jobs, and battle through no matter the conditions on the ground...or plate.

     In hindsight, perhaps I have been too quick to heap praise and too unbelievable in my enjoyment of every possible form of rice and beans my mom has whipped up. Her suspicions raised, tonight this fish was the litmus test for my sincerity. Surely, she thought, I would have to speak up this time. AL CONTRARIO, MAMATICA! Given my well developed forearm muscles, I was able to saw through the majority of the fillet, despite being given what I know to be the dullest knife she owns. No sooner did I get to the last piece which was both too tough to cut and too large to politely fit in my mouth, my mother, her mother and her aunt sat down around the table to eat their meals. A quick survey of their plates confirmed my fear. For they had the same food as I, save the fish, which had mysteriously been replaced by an egg! It was as if to say, just give in and speak up! There's an alternative to this madness! But the principle at this point had clouded my reason, and I was certainly past the point of no return. And so they sat with their plates untouched before them, their soul purpose to watch the Lebron James-like drama that was my decision as to what to do with that last piece of fish unfold.
   
     The tension was palpable. They did not stare me down, for that would have been too obvious. Instead, they sat with their heads down as if they were in an interminably long moment of contemplation. Every so often, however, their eyes would glance, however fleetingly, in my direction. I spent the next seven minutes buying myself some time to figure out a way out of this culinary conundrum by individually eating each of the final 27 grains of rice that remained on my plate. If an ant had managed to crawl on my plate during this period, I probably would have eaten it too, if only to avoid the final reckoning that was that crusty piece of über well-done pescado. Yet, as John Donne would have said, if he were alive and there as opposed to being dead and entombed at St. Paul's in London: The bell tolled for me!

     At last, I saw a window of opportunity! A fault in the watch! For a brief moment, all three women's eyes were cast down on the red tablecloth! If I could just get that last piece down before they looked my way again, I could say con permiso and walk away freer than O.J. Simpson after a double homicide! And so, in what very well could have been my last act of courage, I chose to swallow my pride and the oversized morsel and see what would become of me. I knew I had to hurry and finish masticating before one of them raised their accusatory eyes and say whatever the Spainsh equivalent is of gotcha! I chewed so ferociously and feverishly that my face must have been a contorted spectacle. I thought I (or rather my salivary enzymes) were making progress when my Mom, sensing a disturbance in the force rose her head and our eyes met. There I was, a revered gringo, humiliated on the field of battle. Now I know how Lee must have felt when he surrendered to Grant at Appomattox.

     Mother smiled lovingly at her vanquished child and said, with all the double entendre that a two-word phrase can possess, ¿Quiere más? (Want more?)

     And I, mouth still full of fried fish, managed to mumble, Estoy bien. 

On Struggles

     This we has been a pretty difficult week for me, as I have heard from a lot of friends and people whom I love who are struggling through a variety of different problems in their own lives.  One is stressed out about his first test of the semester; another is finding it tough to acclimate to life here in Costa Rica. A third has changed her major in hopes of finding something more meaningful, but still feels unfulfilled and a fourth has grown tired of the university he attends but feels too far into his studies there to transfer. A few others are going through intense personal struggles such as a boyfriend of over a year dumping her over the phone, and a best friend dying unexpectedly. Then there's people I care about who seem to be always up against it, perpetually getting to the top of the mountain only to have the boulder of their burdens knock them back down to the base. I pray for all these poor souls each night before I go to bed and I trust that God has a purpose for the pain they suffer, but my inability to help much is tough to stomach. I wish that I could carry some of these troubles and let my beloved friends and family have a day or even a few moments to at least gather up their strength.

     It was with this heavy heart that I was reading the Bible today between classes. In the Gospel of Saint Luke, the Evangelist writes on a couple different occasions that Mary "ponders" or "keeps" thoughts and pains "in her heart." Mary had a life that was full of moments of intense sadness and sorrow, most of all for her beloved Son. Yet never once did her faith in God's plan or willingness to be a "faithful "handmaid" waver. She stayed with the Lord all the way to the foot of the Cross.

     Perhaps you, like I, have friends or family right now that need you to stand with them as they carry their own personal crosses. Often, there is nothing we can do but offer companionship and a willingness to love. The best ministry we can give to loved ones in distress sometimes is a sympathetic ear and a warm embrace. I have nothing to offer anyone of the people that bare their hearts and share their problems with me except my unflinching belief that God never gives people more than they can handle if they are filled with faith and hope. Yet I think there is a tremendous power and comfort in knowing that there is a person who is willing to be there at the foot of their cross.

Costa Rica: The Quarter Report

     So we (really just I) have made it through the first 4 of my 16 weeks in Costa Rica! "Made it through" really isn't an adequate description to assess how things have gone so far. A month ago, there was a lot of excitement, but it was certainly checkered with a lot of unknowns. I was going to a country I had never visited to study with classmates I had never met and live with a family I had never seen who spoke a language I had never spoken for any meaningful period of time. I wouldn't say that I doubted my ability or even that I doubted how I would acclimate to any of those challenges individually. I will admit, however, that facing all those factors simultaneously was a bit daunting.

      Four weeks later, I can say that this experience has toped all of my expectations and I feel I've really grown a lot in just this short period of time. Most of all, I feel a sense of peace and comfort here that I didn't expect. There are severals factors that have helped me attain this equanimity. First and foremost, my faith has been the key element of my life here. I won't speak at length about it in this post, since the majority of this blog is a chronicle of my faith journey. That said, having that correct ordering of priorities in life has been such a blessing. I think I was able to travel here without the weight of other's expectations of me. I was given a clean slate here in Costa Rica, and I have utilized it to try and live the more of the life I have always known I am capable of living yet never felt able to actually put into practice.

     Secondly, the other students on this program have been some of the best companions for this experience that I could have imagined. I've been able to forge close friendships with a few already. I know that may sound like an overstatement given the brevity of our time together, but sometimes you can just sense that certain people are going to have a good rapport with you. At risk of offending all those wonderful compañeros who I do not mention by name (I tolerate you all! .... mas o menos...), I shall give three special "shout outs":

• First, there's Colin. He has taught me more about Kalamazoo College, a small school ironically situated in the city of Kalamazoo, Michigan (which I knew only as the birthplace of Derek Jeter!), than I ever dreamt possible. But all the "K"-nowledge is the least of why I am mentioning him. He's also a Christian who has been rediscovering his faith on this trip, something I can relate well too. Our Thursday morning coffee dates have produced some of the better conversations I've had the pleasure of engaging in on this trip. He usually wears a smile, and that's a challenge sometimes during our long school days. His joy is contagious and challenges me to be a more positive person.

• Next is Jill. Jill is many things. She's environmentally conscious, picking up plastic bottles and carrying them the duration of a 15-minute walk to properly place them into a recycling receptacle. She's extremely healthy, eating more carrots than Bugs Bunny and yet somehow managing to exercise enough to burn the copious amount of calories she consumes therein. She's got a great sense of humor! Whereas my sarcasm is usually apparent, her humor flies under the radar and sneaks up when you least expect it. But what I find most respectable about Jill is her sincerity. An air of genuineness permeates everything she does and says in a way I have never witnessed elsewhere. She asks questions that are so straightforward yet insightful that I have to pause and think in order to give an answer that matches the quality of the inquiry. I feel like I am a better person for just having met her, and I hope our friendship only grows as the semester continues!

• Last, but certainly not least, is Peter, who was gravely scorned by yesterday's blog post being titled, "On Peter", yet containing no reference to him. Therefore, his "shout out" merits special consideration given the emotional distress to which I subjected him. So where do I begin? I'm fairly certain he and I are kindred spirits. I'm pretty sure our friendship on this trip began due to our similar comedic style, which I'll term observation sarcasm. Once we got to talking, however, I found that we also shared much more. Behind the silliness and jokes, there lies a very perceptive and shrewd thinker. We have very similar concepts of how one ought to live a good life and what is important in terms of values. We both hold community service in high esteem, and don't like when people are disingenuous and hypocritical. He likes to think for himself and does not do things for arbitrary reasons. My comfort level with him is something I've only shared with a few of my best friends. I feel I as though I can share anything with him and not be afraid of being judged or having my trust breached. His friendship is invaluable to me on this trip and, hopefully, will be beyond it as well.

     If it seems unlikely that I could have formed these three friendships in a mere four weeks, then I agree with you. I never expected to make such strong connections with people I had never met. When I look back on the numerous choices I had regarding where, when and even if to study abroad, I cannot explain my finding my way here by any other means short of God's grace. Last year, someone told me, "The will of God won't ever lead you where the grace of God can't keep you." That expression has taken on new meaning for me this past month. I have no doubt I am here for a reason and to fulfill a purpose. I signed up for this program because of classes on human rights, but I have learned more about humanity from the people I am surrounded by than I could ever learn from a textbook.