I have lived in Salt Lake City for exactly 15 months now.  So much has changed in these 15 months.  I started learning guitar.  I resumed piano lessons.  I had my first sip of alcohol.  I hiked a couple big (for me) mountains.  I got involved in a church denomination different from the one I’d been with for 22 years.  I visited Alaska.  I lived with my best friend for the summer.  I finally watched the one I voted for win.  I started training to become a Stephen Minister.  I grew to appreciate (and even crave) black coffee.  I navigated New York City’s subways and buses on my own for the first time.

Besides these changes, I’ve noticed my ideology changing recently.  I’ve been working in a social justice setting for over a year now, but all of a sudden things are starting to hit me in new ways.  Up till now, the questions I’ve been wrestling with were along the lines of “How can we get churches involved in justice, not only charity?  How can we free the oppressed people living on the margins?”  These are the new questions I’m wrestling with:

What if people who are economically poor are actually richer than I am, as shown by their gratitude, attitude, sharing of community…?  What if people who have less formal education than I do are actually smarter than I am, as shown by their deep thinking and theological statements…?  What if people who have less stuff are more content?  What if I need to rethink my definitions of poverty & wealth?  Why don’t I have the faith that these “poor” people have?

They talk about God to me in ways that I never replicate when I’m talking to people about God.

It seems my fellow missionaries are also undergoing these kinds of radical transformations.  We’ve shared with each other what ways our eyes are opening, how others are teaching us new outlooks.  I’m glad we have a second year in which to get even deeper.

Anyway, those are the ongoing changes in my life.  In case you were interested.

Check out this video from today’s protest: http://www.fox13now.com/news/kstu-flock-of-palins-want-gov-to-up-severance-tax,0,6081528.story

I have a new sister-in-law!!  My second-oldest brother Jonathan, had the privilege of marrying the wonderful Sherry today.  They are the happiest people in the world:

Here are my oldest brother David and me.  Look how tall:

Yes, I caught the bouquet, but only because Sherry threw it right at me.  Or I was the most desperate.

One of the most memorable parts of the evening was when Jon, the groom!!, asked me to dance, even though I am his pesky little sister.  We did a one-two-cha-cha-cha number.  Jon has taken many ballroom dance classes and has even competed—as has Sherry.  So…we didn’t look as good as they did, but I think we had fun:

I danced with other handsome men too (including Charles, the third-oldest brother), but because I danced with the groom I feel extra special.

Me with my three brothers, new sister-in-law, and future sister-in-law [in exactly six months]:

Sherry changed into this other white dress for the dancing.  It was flowy and sashay-y.  She has great taste.  I plan to do the same kind of thing for easier dancing at my own reception…someday.

I cried at the ceremony.  I think what got me was “as long as we both shall live.”  Sherry and Jonathan will be together for the rest of their lives.  They will never forget this day.  He will remember feasting his eyes on her beauty and knowing that the image will be forever seared in his memory.  They waltzed together and were simply stunning.  I do pray that they will be together no matter what trials they face.  They have a deep love, and crying at the sight of that is a good thing.

I touched down in Ohio today, to start the wedding celebration weekend.  I was reunited with my one true love.

I said, "I miss having Christmas mornings with Kate." Charles said, "Don't you miss having Christmas mornings with your family?"

In Heather’s honor, I went around calling the dog “Katie Scarlett.”  I miss Heather too.

For fun on this trip, Mom brought some old notes she received from my brothers and me over the years.  They were hilarious.  Favorite excerpt of Charles’: “I knew from a long time ago that you’ve been the easier parent.”  Favorite excerpt of Jonathan’s: “I think we will have a good time in the cabin.  I like how you pack ahead.”

Here’s a note I wrote Mom:

Funny how some things never change.

I have been thinking about the nature of love a lot lately.  And how to avoid the loss of it.  If you ever can avoid the loss of it.  I’ve been talking with friends about past break-ups and current ones, especially as they involve the loss of your first love.  Here is what I have learned through these conversations and thoughts:

God wants us to have life abundantly (John 10:10).

Falling in love with someone is an experience that is full of abundant life.

You can’t fall in love with someone while still having one foot in the other room, holding part of yourself back.  At some point you have to jump in with both feet.

Doing so means risking your heart.  You can’t be cautious anymore.  You have to be vulnerable, open, and intimate.

There’s no guarantee that it will work out.  But the only way to know is to get to that place of intense vulnerability and be open.  Your love can lead to abundant life.  There’s no way of knowing whether your jumping-in-with-both-feet will lead to lifelong happiness, or whether it will end in sorrow.  But there’s no way to truly love unless you’ve given all of yourself and taken that jump.  To hold yourself back from others—romantic relationship or other relationship—is not truly living.  That’s not abundant life.  At some point you must get to the raw, deep, real core of you and share that core with others.

_______

Anyway…I know I haven’t written in awhile, but those were just some realizations I (collectively) came to recently.  In related news, one of my brothers is getting married next week.  I am so, so happy for this new addition to our family.  Sherry is awesome.  She laughs, she smiles, she prays.  What more could a guy want?

When our whole family is reunited next week, I plan to take a walk with my mom and ask her about love, choosing the right partner for marriage, relationships, etc.  Maybe Sherry will let me ask her too….

When 2009 began, I had a handful of goals, and number 1 was: “Climb Mt. Olympus in Salt Lake City, perhaps also Mt. Timpanogos.”  I have successfully completed that goal.  I summited Mt. Olympus on 7-18-09 at 9,026 ft. above sea level, and Mt. Timpanogos TODAY at 11,749 ft. above sea level.  I know that might not seem like a big deal, and certainly they’re not the highest peaks in Utah—by any means—but they’re still the greatest hiking accomplishments I have ever achieved.

This one took nine hours.  It was 15 miles round trip, and it took my hiking buddy and me 4.5 hours to reach the summit, including breaks of course.

The summit of Timp in the background. Looks pretty daunting. We had been hiking for about 2.5 hours at this point.

First note the majestic mountain range behind me, then the majestic hiking stick--it looks like Moses' staff, no? My summer hiking buddies Dave & Mike loaned me this stick (since my hiking poles are malfunctioning). Sad story: I put the stick down in the mountain saddle so I could scramble with all four limbs to the summit...and it was not at the saddle when we returned. I hope whoever stole it is going to hike with it a lot. That stick had character.

An example of the trail from the saddle to the summit, as viewed from the summit. Allow me to break out of this caption to expand on this.

The hardest part of this trail was the mental push.  The physical part was tiring, sure, and my feet were particularly sore along the way back—as were my hands from all the gripping of rock ledges.  However, what was hardest was getting beyond my fear of heights.  There was one moment where I felt a twinge of vertigo setting in, and I just looked away.  I kept my eyes focused right on the path in front of me.  If I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the blue of Utah Lake so far down below…it made me panic.  I had to have tunnel vision.  What kept me going was telling myself, “Well, I’ve gone this far.  Might as well try to reach the summit.”  What else worked was thinking of all the people—friends, family, coworkers—whom I had told about this.  How could I report back to them: “Oh…yeah…I made it to the saddle at least…sorry I’m such a loser”?  I couldn’t let them down.  Not after the encouraging words they gave me (“Awaken, scramble, replenish, conquer” and “You can do it.  Embrace the challenge.  You’re in better shape than you might think” and “It’ll be hard, but the body can suffer a lot longer than the mind thinks” and “I suggest bringing some food with you in a backpack”).  So I pressed on.  It got easier the more narrow paths I walked.  Also I prayed.  I felt a reassurance from God that I would be just fine…but a few steps later I was frightened again.

Something else that helped was the other hikers offering encouragement as they descended.  I distinctly remember one guy saying, “How’s it goin’?  Hang in there.”  (Probably because I was quite literally hanging on for dear life, trying to pick my way past a treacherous spot.)  Many would say, “You’re almost there” or “The hardest part’s over.”  Virtually everyone commented on the awesome dog we brought with us.

Here I am at the summit:

Behind me is the little shelter where you can sign your name in the mountain notebook/registry. I didn't though.

Not the most convincing example of the steep grade of drop-offs...but a good idea of the terrain from saddle to summit.

My friend Jake was good for nothing in terms of survival skills. (He showed up to the hike in a T-shirt and shorts, when it was 42 degrees at the onset. This is only one example of many.) However, he was great at going slow for my pace, and not pushing me past my fears. Also, check out the awesome fall foliage behind him. This was our view from the saddle, where we ate our lunch.

Sorry for my camera shutter not opening all the way, but here are the aspens' changing leaves.

This hike was gorgeous the entire time.  Waterfalls, multi-colored leaves, meadows, pine needles, moss, snow, rock faces, tree roots….  The summit is a great triumph, but the whole journey was magnificent.  That’s what makes it worth it to me.

As per tradition, here’s a summit video, and I’m sorry for all the pointless narration.  Mute it if you’d like:

Also, it sounds like I’m crying, but I’m actually giggling.

On the hike back down, my buddy and I had to ask, “Did we really just do that?”  It was surreal.  If you are interested in any other details of the day, please leave a comment.  I have a lot more I could have written, but I thought I’d provide you with the essentials and the emotions.

Holladay UCC has an annual camp-out weekend, and I was blessed to be a part of it these past few days.  I have found a church family.  I enjoyed getting to know so many new people, of all different ages.  We shared meals together, went on a hike together, sang songs together….  I can’t wait to see these people again each Sunday, now that we have a deeper connection.

This stream was loud and full of life, but still peaceful. I went down there by myself and thought a bit about God.

The path to the creek runs through an outdoor chapel, where we had worship service this morning.

The campfire light shone on the cross. Isn't the scent of campfire smoke divine?

The view from our hike early Saturday morning.

I had the privilege of playing guitar with a great couple named Marilyn & Chuck.   Since I’ve only picked up a handful of guitar chords within the last few weeks, I didn’t feel I could “jam” with real musicians.  But when we stuck to simple songs, I did okay.  Throughout the weekend we played songs like “I’ll Fly Away,” “Blowin’ in the Wind,” “Norwegian Wood,” and other folksy tunes.  This morning during worship I led “Pack Up Your Sorrows” with singing and guitar.  The congregation really liked the lyrics—I mean who wouldn’t?  THANK YOU to my missionary buddies Greg and Elyse for teaching me guitar and introducing me to that song!  (For a video of that song, click here, but only if you keep in mind that I was still fumbling through the learning of it at that point.)

I am putting this blog post in the category of “family” because I am so grateful that these church members embrace me as one of their family out here.  Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, God!

The route to the top brought with it a few ominous signs, as we saw two snakes in the brush—one tiny, but the other very large with a rattle at the end.  When we got to the summit, I saw a long snake a few feet away.  It was beige with dark markings.  I grabbed Liz by the shoulders and said something like “Come on, Liz” as I pulled us both to safety—not raising my voice too much to avoid panic.  I also sharply called “Copper!” so the dog would follow.  Charles wasn’t near the snake.  I said, “There’s a snake, there’s a snake!”  As soon as Liz and I were a few feet away I saw something darting at our feet, and screamed, continuing to shove Liz by the arms.  I thought for sure the snake was chasing us.  I hopped up and down in a mad dance.  Turns out it was a second creature—a lizard was chasing me.  Because Charles never saw the snake (though he looked around for it), and instead saw me flip out over a lizard, he has a hard time believing I saw a snake.  But I saw it.  It was right by me.  And I saved Liz’s life.

The tail of the beast.

Narrowly escaped death.

The skeptic.

The heroine.

To be fair, Charles did admit that snakes like to sun themselves on the rocks, and the snake I saw was probably doing that….  And also to be fair, the only reason I shoved Liz to safety is because she was in my way and I needed to get to safety.

That was the most exciting part of our hike to Grandeur Peak in Millcreek Canyon today.  Another crazy part was right after the summit, when we met a man hiking with three boys.  Liz offered them water, and they accepted, because they hadn’t brought any with them! The guy was like, “We figured, it’s just three miles.”  Yeah, three miles, with a gain of 2,300 feet in elevation!  In August!  With a high of 93 degrees!  He also said, “Are you not supposed to drink out of the mountain streams?”  I gave him my remaining water—a little less than a liter.  The kids happily lapped it up.  We couldn’t believe their poor decisions.

Copper had a lot of fun splashing in the creek crossings along the way.  Because his Australian Shepherd fur just sheds the water, you can’t pour water on him to cool him off.  He has to lay down in the water.  Which he did.  Every chance he got.

You should see what the backseat of my car looks like now.

The survivors.

We are thinking of naming our hiking group something.  Any suggestions?

My brother Charles and his fiancee Elizabeth are spending the weekend with me.  We hiked to Cecret Lake today (taking the longer route instead of riding the shuttle van) and ate a nice picnic lunch together.

Here’s Charles teaching Liz about water:

Check out the beached-whale-looking animal behind us:

We couldn’t believe our luck—three moose in a row!

The one on the beach was very close.  Then they kind of migrated around as  they ate some plants.  Someone told me that, if a moose is charging at you, you should run around and around a tree.  Is that true?

Charles sneaks up on the moose.

Also, Liz and I are both wearing tie-dye shirts that I made four years ago.  We didn’t plan that.  But I think it means we are meant to be sisters-in-law.

Before the hike we took a tour of Crossroads and they met my boss and colleagues.  Later we played Friends SceneIt DVD game, and I of course whooped their butts, even though they combined their efforts into one team.  I was a very humble victor.

Tomorrow guess what we’re gonna do?  Another hike.

I am really glad they’re here.  I just wish they could stay longer.