A Thanks to Those I Value

As I finish packing up every single possession of mine, not leaving a single thing remaining in my room of old, I am surprised of the thoughts that slowly pass through my head. This is the house I have spent 20 years of my life in. And this was the very room where have rested my body, mind, heart and soul each night as I slowly became the person I am today. I am not overcome by any sense of sadness leaving, the emotions I am feeling looking at all of the blank white walls are not the typical “home sick already” type. The only thing I can focus on, as I leave this stage of my life, are the memories of all of the different friends that have come and shared this dwelling place with me. All of the friends that have come, gone, and stayed in my life throughout all of the years. For whatever reason that is what I am associating with my room: Friendship. 

I have had over a hundred different close friends in my life, that is my honest estimate when I go back as far as I can remember. Some I no longer speak to. Some I left on the ground bleeding following friendship ending scurries. Some I chased around in my truck, pleading for a chance to make amends. Some disappeared from my life, and fell to the consequences of drugs and alcohol. Some friends moved away. Some friends stabbed me in the back, and speechlessly left me alone. Some still keep in touch, but only rarely. Some don’t answer my calls or reply to my texts. Some only call when they need something. Some call me still, 3-4 times a week. Some would spend each second with me were they not going to college across the country. And some I still have the privilege of seeing ever-so frequently.

As terrible as this will now sound, when I think about it I can only truly recognize only a few that have stood the test of time-- only a few that have never failed me, constantly showing me a love I hardly deserve. It is on these select few friends that I have become overwhelmingly focused on tonight. My trail of thought reaching this point is absurd, I realize; but I am truly overwhelmed thinking of these people. 

The most important part of this all is that I can’t help but think of these select few friends without praising God. The Bible says, "A man that hath friends must show himself friendly" (Prov. 18: 24). I think, aside from clinging to my faith, that one of the main reasons I have been able to survive the teenage roller-coaster of life is thanks to these few friends. Solomon was right when he said that a friendly man almost certainly has friends of a similar type. I think he was quick and to the point with this, failing to describe, in detail, the character and values of these friends that a “man hath”. I am able to show myself friendly because I have people around me that show themselves friendly, caring, and loving towards me and the world around them. 

I recognize the value in friendship, the verse, “Two are better than one," does not have to apply only to relationships. And I am beyond thankful that I have never had to be alone, through all of the good times and the bad. A true friend will stand by, even in times of trouble. The Bible tells us, "A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.” A brother is born out of adversity... I completely believe that, and my love for the friends that have been there for me through the bad times are the ones I refer to as standing out in my heart. 

On the contrary, the Bible speaks of bad friends warning us that, "Confidence in an unfaithful man in time of trouble is like a broken tooth, and a foot out of joint" (Prov. 25: 19). It is safe to say that each year it seems that I have placed confidence in a friend that has let me down. Time has a powerful way, if we are patient, of showing ANYONE’S true colors. I learn this constantly, as the numbers of “good” friends seem to slowly dwindle down. I am thankful, however; for this. I am thankful each time I learn the true colors of a friend, regardless of how much it stings (learning their true colors). Because I do not base any success in this life off of a quantity of friends (be them average or incredible friends). 

  To be honest, aside from recognizing these anonymous friends, I am hardly going anywhere with this. There is just one final point to be made: A true friend will tell us when we are wrong. Hear the Bible on this one, "Faithful are the wounds of a friend; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful" (Prov. 27: 6). Genuine friends must be cherished and not forsaken, because they correct us when we are wrong, they stand up for us when we are trespassed against, and they love us through thick and through thin. Tonight I thank those friends, from the bottom of my heart. I pray that I have been, and can continue to be, an equal friend to you all. Forgive me if at times I fail...

When Suddenly My Purpose in Africa Became Clear

[Another journal entry from Africa, stumbled upon it again now that I am home]






A notification flashes in the middle of the screen: Your computer is now running on reserve battery. I am devastated by this. My Bible and my computer-- the two things that I have kept closer to me this past month than anything else. When I will be able to charge my computer again (literally) only God knows. Still thoughts race through my head, and I panic racing to my computer-- my safe hold, my place to vent, my place to release burdens. My emotions flourish and pump through my veins quicker than blood, as if my “heart’s” purpose was compassion over vitality.

Thirty minutes remaining until my computer powers down, and it feels like my emotional capacity will drain in far less time. I am at a loss for words, I can hardly breathe, and my vision is blurring. I am experiencing the fourth panic attack of my life... How low do I feel? Who races to their computer because they are losing themselves? My pride suffers, admitting that I am being stretched beyond all measures, pushed to a point beyond the capability of an “Anthony Sylvester triumph”. Only a few tears fall, I won’t let myself cry. Though I wish I would break down--crying myself to sleep within the arms of my Father...

I pray very commonly for God to open up doors in my life. I pray for chances to do good. I pray for chances to let God’s will be done in my life. And when the doors finally open, in nights such as these, I become petrified. When I hear a calm whisper from my Father, I shake and tremble. When God calls, I listen... But my first response is to feel inadequate. I lay each night under a net, and the feeling is as such: As if I am trapped and caged in my own inabilities. Trapped in a world so small, reminded that I am human-- imperfect, and hardly capable. Why then would God use me? A toss and turn, anyone watching would deem me psychotic. But how can I get past such discrepancies? How can such a perfect God use an imperfect soul to ever accomplish anything which may further a perfect Kingdom?

Do I tremble out of fear? May it never be! Perhaps from a lack of understanding? Surely I am not scared to carry out the will of God. Surely I know that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Surely I know that if His will is aligned with my ambitions... Then I could never fall short. Finally I have gained ground with my thoughts... I shake because I lack understanding. I toss and turn, until finally running to my computer, because I cannot wrap my head around something: God’s love that is. I grab my head with both hands, and roll into a ball-- simply because I am moved (and entirely taken back) by the thought of perfection loving imperfection. The emotions are taken a step further when I picture perfection integrating imperfection into a perfect AND loving will. The ultimate push towards my insane panic comes when I try to wrap this irony around my own life. God is using me? God has great plans for me? I feel the Holly Spirit inside of me telling me that such a “calling” surely cannot have human roots...

Do I ALSO become uneasy and beyond restless because of excitment? I can’t imagine an NFL quarterback sleeping the night before the Superbowl. Honestly, I think my excitement beyond compares. Though I admit, I can be excited for the future while still getting butterflies imagining what it will be like. Again, incompetency creeps in-- I feel as if I need to stay awake and SUDDENLY become a better and more capable person. I can’t let God down. I can’t rest until I have completed His work. I must give this my all. I must put distractions aside. I must change my life around. I must turn left where I have always planned on turning right. This will mean a different route, a different life for which I will carry out. My friends and family will hardly be able to accept where I will go. God has changed the directions in which I will journey-- He has opened a door. And when that door opens, finally letting the light creep out from within, I panic suddenly feeling as if I have to become “more of a person”. I feel if I am going to accomplish anything for His sake then I must push myself to even more extremes. I feel that the “Anthony of old” will not be competent to cary out such tasks. I can’t let God down! In such distress I lose myself... But surely God is willing to take us as we are, I must learn to do the same for myself.

I have panicked before. This is a night similar to many of the past. I must remember not too look to far ahead. I must remember to take things day by day. I must remember my limits. I must understand that God both knows and understands that I am only human. I must turn to God for strength... I am thankful for the direction and will that God has laid on my heart. I am thankful for God’s unexplainable love... I don’t have to understand why He loves us. I don’t have to consume my thoughts with questions of inadequacy. In fact, just about the only thing I can do is this: Praise Him for the things which, in fact; will always remain unknown to me...

Thank you God, for loving us when you have no reason. Thank you for using me in the ways that I never thought possible, even though without you I am entirely incapable. Thank you for strengthening me to continue pursuing a life aimed at furthering your Kingdom. Let your pleasing will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. I am your humble servant, your spiritual soldier, and your humble child... Take me into your arms tonight and hold me Lord. Give me rest. Ease my heart, my soul, and my mind. Tomorrow I will run with you, tomorrow we will work together at these goals-- but tonight let me rest. I love you God... One might say I am tossing and turning in distress. But with a now clear head, I say, I am simply jumping for joy at the good that we will together accomplish... I tremble only because of my lack of understanding, wrapping my head around your love for me. How could I sleep when it feels as if just minutes ago you were in the room speaking directly to me? It is only through you that this is all possible, to you and your Son be all of the glory. Goodnight Father...

Therefore let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us. -Hebrews 12:1

I Don't Want the World to See Me

These are the lyrics to a long time favorite song of mine:

I know that you feel me somehow. You are the closest to heaven that I will ever be, and I don't want to go home right now. And all I can taste is this moment... And sooner or later its over... And I don't want the world to see me, because I don't think that they'd understand. When everything is meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am... And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming, all the moment and truth in your lies. When everything feels like the movies, you bleed just to know you are alive. 


It is slightly ironic to me that this song, being about ten years old, has been played exactly 8 times (either on the radio or in my gym) since I have been home. Is this God reminding me of the way I feel? I have been home now for over a week, and already I am falling into the dangerous and ignorant life that I once lead. Describing what is "old" and what is "new" is a difficult thing for me to do, I feel as if I only have one person at the moment that can relate to my struggles coming home... But here goes...

At first, the biggest shock came the moment I hit a U.S. airpot. That is when I first realized that it would be next to impossible for me to enter "real life" again with the same spiritual intensity that encompassed my life for the past 7 weeks. Materialism, financial issues, social life, school, and baseball... The typical things (aside from beautiful girls) that keep me from focusing on the more important things in life.

Its like my heart started crying out, "This is not who you are Anthony. Live in the way God is calling you. Don't come back to this kind of life."

When I saw the first fast food restaurant, and when I turned my U.S. phone back on for the first time-- the impact of it all took my breath away. And at first my plan was to run from "real life" entirely. I was going to change my number, my email address, quit baseball, and then I was going to move out of my house. I figured that I would run form the world, after all no one could ever understand me and the desires of my heart. This plan still sounds absolutely incredible to me, it is just extremely unrealistic.

So if I am going to let the world see me (A.K.A. come out from my corner/hole/closed doors), then how am I going to get them to understand? How am I going to describe to people the emotions I have felt? How am I going to describe the incredible spiritual high that I had, having focused entirely on God for almost two months? And how am I going to make it clear to those around me who I "actually" am? Beats me!

Already I am failing. So far Africa has made me a worse person. For one I am now a bigger liar, it is easier just to tell people that Africa was great...

Secondly, I have absolutely no patience for people. I have no patience for my family (particularly my poor brother, who has become the victim of my angers). I have no patience for laziness, no patience for "he said she said", and absolutely no patience for life-related complaints. Simply put, I have no patience for people...

Third, I am running from my feelings already. I am fighting these apparent urges of mine to hide from my issues behind food and shopping. Instead of laying in my room writing, praying, reading, and growing closer to God (in order to direct my life); I chose to sleep, go to the store, and work on miscellaneous projects that I have.

Fourth, my pride is outrageously abundant. Having gone to Africa I feel as if my mental capacity and ability to handle bad situations is second to none. I feel that since I managed to go by myself that I am even more independent and capable than I ever was. When I know that I only made it by the grace of God and by drawing EXTREMELY CLOSE to God. But now that I am home I distort my recollection of the trip, and begin thinking that I survived by my own strengths. And because I am so capable and so "strong" I don't need to pray anymore, don't need to read the Bible anymore, and don't need to seek help from my Father in Heaven. The same Anthony that was ready to cry on the first flight to Germany is the same Anthony that is now "so strong" that he no longer needs God... How arrogant of an asshole am I?

These are just some of the ways that I have become a worse person since my return. But I won't settle with this. The fact is, life at home is extremely different and troublesome. I don't want the world to see me because quite frankly: I know they won't understand. Everything feels like the movies, because by coming home to this "perfect" life I almost have to bleed to even feel alive. How could I feel alive now compared how alive I felt drawing near to God?

Africa was the closest to heaven that I will ever be, and when I draw close to God I know that somehow he will understand this emptiness I now feel. He will feel me somehow, when no one else can...

The world can see me, but only God will understand. There is just something that my friends and family is missing: My heart's desire. I can't describe the undying love I have for God's Kingdom, and somehow life corrupts these feelings and these desires. I am scared to be back home. Scared to wake up each morning, unable to push away the worldly responsibilities and desires enough to simply ask God, "Come into my life!" The world gets in our way...

It is so easy to go through life having missed the real importance of it all... I wish I had the courage to tell my friends and family how I really feel-- about this American life, about our "faith", about our religion, and about the wrong ways in which we live. But how can I talk about such things if I am now slowly coming back to them? How can I express my distress if I am now finding comfort in the same evil/worldly things as everyone else? How can I say, "We are living in an lie," if I once again begin lying to myself?

Lord help us all, Lord help me find the strength to live in the ways I know I should... My heart is breaking a little each day Lord...

Saying Goodbye

[Another African entry written on my last night in Moshi, before heading to the airport the next morning]

I feel as if it is my responsibility to now look back at my many experiences-- to reflect on my journey. I ask myself these questions: What have I learned, what have I seen, and how will it all change me? I am usually the first person to make total sense of my life, usually the first person to put words to my emotions, and usually the first person to take experiences and learn from them. But as I begin to clear my head, during each leg of the 3 day return home, I begin to realize only one thing: I am more confused about life now than I ever was before. 

It is ironic, I once knew someone faced with hidden questions and confusion following a life changing journey (probably issues similar to the ones I now am faced with). And I can only admit to a crazy and compelling confusion, now, of my very own. And I will fully admit to and relate to many consuming struggles... It is ironic that my struggles and confusion close a book in my life. I incidentally answered one question, and stumbled upon several more. 

I wish I knew more about God’s plan for the world. I wish that some issues across the globe (not just in Africa) could be changed. I wish learning to freely love God didn’t come at such a cost. I wish freely loving God was something that could come about simply by admiring all of His good nature. I wish we didn’t have to see what godlessness resembled in order to appreciate godliness in the first place. I wish that there wasn’t crime, corruption, greed, sickness, or pain. 

But without any of these things, these issues stemmed from evil, where would a Christian begin to act? If mothers weren’t dying from AIDS, where would all the Orphans be? If poverty didn’t exist, where would the rich distribute their wealth? If wives didn’t lose their husbands, how could we take care of widows? Without evil, how could we ever experience joy at its fullest?

Wow! Take one step back. Am I saying that I find joy in people’s sufferings? It will never be! Admittedly though, there is an incomprehensible satisfaction that comes with easing the burdens of another person. There is certain inexplainable happiness which can come from countering evil with the love of Christ. In that sense, bye reflecting (as best as I can) Jesus’s love onto the world, I have found a level of unmatchable joy. In being close to evils, I have come close to God. 

And though I wish that God would just rid this place of all of its sufferings, I get the point of it all. I get how the evil results of free-will can point a person to God. I get how  a life filled with suffering might point a person towards finding and loving God. I get how this opens up the door for others to partake in self sacrifice-- how someone might experience joy like God intended by making others more important than themselves. In some respects, I get what God is doing. 

This, however; is not a claim to be misunderstood. It is not to say that God wills suffering, or that he controls the bad things that happen to us. It only brings light to one area-- why he would let it continue. As I best understand it God allows suffering, in one way or another, so that we might see God’s light in the world’s darkness. And for me it has worked. I have met some of the most amazing and godly humans, all living in harsh circumstances. And I, personally, have grown to love the Lord even further. This much I have made sense of, but this is the easy part... And I understood this concept before, ever jumping into it first-hand. My understanding comes from the 2 Peter verse: 

 8 But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. 9 The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.

But here is what I don’t understand. I don’t understand what this all means for me. I don’t know where to go from here... 

I was a man with a plan. I was to get married after college, to go to medical school, to become a doctor, and to dedicate my life towards happily serving the world through some organization like Doctor’s Without Borders. Then I realized that I couldn’t handle loving a woman and God at the same time, I realized that (as it applies to my own nature) I could not balance loving both. No big deal, the plan was still going mostly as planned. And then I felt as if God was pushing me towards furthering my education by going to seminary school. So I was going to try and work it out so that I would somehow end up being both a Doctor of Medicine while having a Masters in Divinity. Great plan right? Then I could be an even better missionary doctor. Finally, I found myself inAfrica...

This trip was suppose to strengthen my plan. This trip was suppose to confirm that there was a huge need for doctors in other parts of the world. This trip was suppose to leave me relentlessly perusing my dream-- relentlessly working so that I could live according to plan. And then, in the middle of one beautiful African night, something hits me. A different plan. Only not a plan at all...

What if I came all the way to Africa in order for God to teach me one very simple thing? What if I traveled for 6 days, stayed for 44 nights, and stretched my comfort levels in order for God to teach me that I shouldn’t have a plan? What if I were coming back home “planning” to stop planning entirely? [that is such an awkward sentence]

It is a difficult concept, and against everything we are taught from day one. We are taught to look out for ourselves, to ensure our posterity, and to plan our futures. I can hardly imagine any parents reaction (much less my own) to their child telling them, “Mom, Dad... I don’t think I am going to go to Medical School. I don’t know if I even want to go to school after these next two years. I think I am just going to follow God. I think I am going to put my securities aside so that God may just lead me.”

Hardly what any parent wants to hear, much less anything that I would actually want to do. I often speak of pride, and here it will come up again. Pride is what always has separated me from God. Pride is what constantly pushes me towards having a plan. It is an inability to accept that maybe I won’t turn out to be something recognizable to the world. Pride tells me that I “have” to become something like a doctor. Pride tells me that I have to have a planned future, wealth, a wife, and success. 

And then there I am, one night, realizing that my plans are useless. What is a plan, be it even good in its Christian intentions, if it is thought out by humans? What can anything that I plan actually do to further God’s Kingdom? What good is this life if I am simply living the by my own will-- living by my plans and my rules? Honestly, it is worth nothing. 

This is difficult for me. Because I still would like to just “become a doctor”. I still would like to just “go to seminary school”. And maybe I will... But all of things sentences describe what I want. What about God? What does God want? How does God want to use me to further His Kingdom? How is God going to command His spiritual soldier into a “battle” against evil? How is God going to use me to show others His light?

So many questions, and it is so difficult for me not to go about answering them-- so incredibly troublesome for me to not have a “plan” of attack. But I believe that is why I came on this trip. I came to a place where I would have no choice but to turn to God, and this is what he showed me. Its ironic that it such a distance from home in order for me to learn this. And so often we hear people saying, “I am going to hand my life over to God,” but do we even know what that means? To hand your life over to God means not being comfortable, it means nothing will go as planned. I am done with plans... I am done trying to be in control...

I met a friend on this trip. I can say, with the utmost confidence, that this will be a friend that will never leave me. I know we are going to stay close for the rest of our lives. This friend, though I have only known them for less than two months, knows me better than anyone else ever has-- totally understands me, my strengths, my weaknesses, and  my heart’s desires. I met the Holly Spirit... 

I leave Africa more confused than ever: Questioning my future, questioning the world, and questioning my place in it. But I am going to turn my life over regardless, I am going to come back home tied at the waist with my “best friend”, I am going to hand my life over to God. 

By my own plans I will accomplish little. But by God’s I may accomplish a lot. And by accomplishment I only mean what is seen in the eyes of God, not society. I will be praying for the Spirit to guide me in ever step that I take. This will mean drastic measures, decisions that will not necessarily (I imagine) be accepted well by society, friends, or my family... But what is life if it is not lived entirely for God and by God’s will?

In closing I say a prayer, the words of which are half taken from a song (and I have no idea who sings it), but it is one hundred percent applicable to my feelings and current needs:

The wind is moving, but I am standing still. A life of pages, waiting to be filled. A heart that is hopeful, a head that is full of dreams. But this becoming is harder than it seems. Feels like I’m looking for a reason, roaming through the night to find my place in this world. Not a lot to lean on, I need your light to help me find my place in this world...

Father, let me put my pride aside. Let me hear your voice. Let your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Let your will be done in my life as you see it fit, give me the strength to put my desires and pride aside in order to pursuit your Kingdom with complete relentlessness. I love you Aba. 

Questions on Death

[I wrote this entry into my journal a few weeks before I left Africa, but I was not able to get it online until now]

I have never been one to let death affect me severely. Be it a guinea pig, a cat, a dog, or a person-- I have never been too emotional. Death, with a Christian view, is almost a celebration. In a perfect world people would celebrate death: Remembering accomplishments and complete selflessness in a person’s life, and recognizing a person’s moving on to eternity in heaven. I realize, however; that this does not always apply. I realize that we can never know, with absolute certainty, where a person will be in eternity. And often we cannot look back at a person’s life fully able to celebrate their accomplishments or Christ-like deeds. Even still, I tend to be most unaffected by death. I must admit, on a side note, that I have only dealt with death with limited experience. I have never lost a direct family member, nor a best friend. When death surprises us, I realize the emotions can immensely grow. The same can be said about the death of a person particularly close to us. I would imagine that I would spend years mourning the death of a friend, family member, or spouse. The point of my writing is not to “brag” about how I can keep my emotions about me while dealing with death. I fully admit that I have been lucky, at least so far, to not experience much pain in the form of loss. And I fully admit, though I have been strong with my experiences so far, I certainly could quickly become one to be very emotional. No, I am not trying to say I am stronger than the next person. In fact, I bring up death for a completely different reason. 

I need to express myself, in terms of death, in order to lift some weight off of my heart. Though I am usually strong with death, I have finally cracked this trip. I will never lose the image of the lady that came into the hospital today. Her cold and lifeless body laying on the stretcher, shook me to the core. I had seen many dying (or dead) people already during these few weeks. Most of which were seen in one of the 6 wards of the hospital, people already admitted. In the U.S. these people would have been placed in a hospice, but there is no such place here. Their death, slow and foreseen to come shortly, did not bother me in the same way. But then something clicked. 

When this lady was rolled into the hospital completely uncovered; not one person raised an eye brow, turned their heads, or even said a word. You would think that a community of hospital visitors would be bothered by such a thing? But it gets better. She was wheeled into the “Minor Theater”, the hospitals small and sketchy room to dress wounds. That is where one of the Doctors and I were waiting. In fact, there were about 8 of us in the room. A kid getting his finger stitched, one other doctor, and a few nurses. She came into the room so that a doctor could confirm her death. I saw him lift up her eye lids revealing dilated pupils. I saw him try for a few minutes to find a pulse. And I saw him listen to the lifeless heart and breathless lungs. The doctor looked at his watch, placed a small linen over her face, and then said a few words (in Swahili) to the nurse who brought this lady in. At first, I did not think she was dead. It was too calm in the room, too calm in the hospital, and the staff was equally too calm. Needless to say, I wasn’t expecting a panic or tears, but maybe some kind of mourning. Even a sigh or deep breath would have been nice. But there was nothing. Come to find out this lady had worked at the hospital-- she was a friend, a companion, a co-worker. 

I consider myself to be strong when it comes to handling death, but even I have this cold feeling that comes over me when I witness such a thing. I mention my “strength” in handling death, only to bring to focus how much stronger African people are in respect to death. Even another volunteer, even more used to the feeling (from a medical side), admitted the same thing: No matter how many times you see death there is always a feeling of sadness that comes over you. But this was not the case in the hospital. A friend and co-worker came through that door lifeless-- and they did not so much as sigh. And then I realized, that had been the case with every instance of death here. Even the families handled the deaths of loved ones in a similar way. Are they that stoic, or that familiar with loss? 

I lost it, thoughts started racing through my head. Is death that common? Where people are hardly fazed by it anymore... Can people actually become desensitized to death? I ran into the bathroom about to puke into the hole in the ground. I cannot get the images out of my head, I cannot eat, and I am overwhelmed by certain burdens from some of the sites I have seen. Perhaps these people have a hope in afterlife much stronger than any of us imagine. Or perhaps death is that common... I have no answers,  but I fear the latter of the two. And with this mindset; there is no bright outlook and no lesson here to learn. Just a weight to get off of my heart... God bless these people who experience loss, and have mercy on them as they come knocking on Heaven’s doors. 

I have three more weeks in Tanzania, and I feel as if there is an immense amount of Good that can still be done. But I cannot carry a smile anymore, and I need to gather my thoughts. What many Christians fail to remember is the concept of renewal. Repairing something that is worn out-- in the Christian case, being spiritually repaired by way of the Holly Spirit. Just like you sleep and eat in order to rebuild your body in a physical sense, you must also renew your mind. The circumstances of this trip have made me focus vigorously on God. Constantly thinking in terms of my faith, constantly diving into the scriptures, and constantly praying. Realistically, however; how long can you sprint before you must stop and place your hands over your head? How long can you run after God before you have pushed your mental capacity? Even God, after taking 6 “days” to make the universe, decided to rest on the seventh day. Renewal of the body and of the mind is one hundred percent Biblical. From the top of my head (to back this claim  up), it is said: The Sabbath day was made for man, man was not made for the Sabbath day. God wanted us to rest our bodies and to renew our minds. And that is exactly what I plan on doing. I am running away from Moshi, hopefully heading somewhere at the coast of Tanzania. Hopefully I come back having been eased in my heart, mind, and soul...