Navigators Year-end Update!

Into the West (Dear Cincinnati)

I'm not sure why this reared its head tonight, but it did. Pretty much out of nowhere. I've had a hard time keeping track of the date this last month. I think my subconscious was doing it somewhat intentionally so that I wouldn't realise how close August was. But when I looked at my calendar this evening and saw "Jul 20" (yes, my computer actually abbreviated July) I broke for the first time.

For those of you that don't know, on August 1 I will be packing up my life and going west to continue my work with the Navigators at their headquarters in Colorado. The decision has been made now for a couple of months, so it was bound to hit me at some point. I think that once I saw the date tonight, it was the first time I really thought deeply about what I'm about to do in less than 2 weeks, and the first time I allowed myself to feel all of the emotions that come along with it.

See, I love Cincinnati. Despite how much I complain about the weather, I love this place. I've lived here since I was 2 years old, since my brother was born. It's the place I've lived for the last 22 years, it has been my home in every sense of the word. And it really hurts to think about the fact that I'm leaving my home--this place and these people that I love so dearly.

A few weeks back, I had some of my dearest friends over and we watched our way through the extended versions of the entire Tolkien saga in one sitting. It was exhausting, but we made it. It was probably one of the best 28 hours periods of my life and I'll cherish that memory forever. I cry at the end (and many, many times throughout) every time. There are two things that hit me this time through though.

The first was the moment in the Fellowship of the Ring where Sam and Frodo are leaving the Shire. Sam stops. "This is it...if I take one more step, it'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been." Now Colorado is definitely not the farthest away from home I've ever been; not by a long shot. But for the first time, I understand Sam's anxiety and anticipation. Sam loves his Shire. It's the Shire that keeps him going throughout their entire journey, as well as his devotion to Frodo. And I get that. I love my city. I love my people here; they are irreplaceable. Cincinnati is my Shire.

Ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you that I'm Sam through and through. What scares me about that though, is that I think I have it a bit harder than Sam. I don't get a Frodo to hit the road with for the first time. And as the day gets closer and closer, I am very deeply feeling that gap. Being a Sam without a Frodo is something that scares me very much.

The other part that hit me was at the very end, this time with something Frodo said to Sam--"We set out to save the Shire, Sam. And it has been saved. But not for me." I'm not saying my life goal has been to save Cincinnati all along or that I've even done a good job. But ever since my first days at the Vineyard when I learned about outreach and evangelism, I do feel that I've wanted to love this city--whether it was by serving it through Summer of Service or by serving at U.C.'s campus on Navigators staff, or going out and praying for people with my Bible study. There's a lot of hate and darkness in this world, and the only way to beat it is to show the light and to love the hate away.

So in that way, yeah, I feel like I've fought to save my Shire. The work is not done by any means, and boy is there a lot to do. But I related so deeply with Frodo there--the Shire has been saved. But not for me. Just like Frodo, I don't get to stay here and enjoy the place I love and have poured out my love and time and strength on and want to keep loving on. Just like Frodo, I have to leave behind the place I've fought for and go into the West.

I know this whole post sounds like I hate that I have to leave. That's not the case at all. I'm so excited to go on this adventure. I know I'm going to learn so many new things, meet so many new people, learn to trust God in new ways, and so many more things that I don't even know yet. I know it's going to be a good adventure, a fun adventure, a new adventure. And while my heart is sad that my Shire wasn't saved for me; while it's sad to leave this place, this community, these people, this fellowship, that's all I've ever known, my heart is happy to be a part of this new story.

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

Brand New Day

These last few weeks have been abnormally huge for me. To a point that I would consider scary. I know it's been a really long time since I updated this page, but it seemed like a good time to do it, considering my previous habits of mostly posting about milestones. Three milestones in particular, that feel like such big steps forward in life that are leading to an entirely new day in my life.

Also, I apologize if (when) this gets sentimental or cheesy, but that's just the kind of guy I am, so deal with it.

The first milestone was taking my housekey off of my keychain. I know it sounds silly, but it was a really big and really intense moment. I remember feeling every second pass by as it slid around the rings. I took it off because we sold our house.

It was the house that I feel like I grew up in. Not so much in the sense of spending my life getting older there, but in the sense that I felt myself go from being a child to being an adult in that house.
It was the house that I finished off high school in.
It was the house that I started college in.
It was the house that my mum got cancer in.
It was the house that I subsequently got to pay back just a small bit of everything that she's done for me and love on her and take care of her.
It was the house where my brother, some of our friends, and myself went and built steps down the hill in our backyard so that mum could make her way to the tennis court and be able to watch even though she couldn't play while she was on chemo.
It was the house where I decided that I loved and trusted Jesus and that I wanted to give Him my life and follow Him.
It was the house where we crammed well over 50 people into one living room to pray over mum.
It was the house where mum got better.
It was the house where I found so many amazing friends that I know will be there for a lifetime.
It was the house where my friends and I spent countless Sunday afternoons having nap parties and watching Ponyo and every dumb YouTube video we could find.
It was that house where Mikeyy, Doug and I founded Sneak! Productions and made all of our silly (awesome) videos.
It was that house where I cried so much, laughed so much, and loved so much.

Obviously, those are just a few things and memories from that house over the years we lived there. Needless to say, it was bittersweet. I know it was just a house, just a building. But it is also probably the first time I ever truly considered a place a home.
I say all this, not merely to be sentimental about a truly amazing place that got to be my home, but also because it was such a huge step. It was the last place I was a kid. Mum and dad have their condo now, and I know that it will always have a place for me to stay and I'll always be welcome any time I ever want to come over, but it won't be my place. I may have a drawer or something to keep a toothbrush, but my room will not one in the same building they are in. Which is hard and a little scary. It's the first light of a brand new day.


The second milestone is twofold: my little brother, Mikeyy graduated from college, and he's about to turn 21. Again, I know it's silly. People get older. People move forward. Fact of life. But there is something about the fact that he is the last person in our little Evanshire to graduate from college. It's hard to put into words (which makes this medium a little bit frustrating), but even though I just graduated, this was the thing that really made the fact that I was done with college (okay, sort of done...keep reading) real. And again, it gave me a sense of melancholy. Not because I'm sad that he's out of college and turning 21 and all that, but it just gave me such a strong sense of this "chapter" of my life, of our lives, being done. Final.


The last milestone, which is probably the scariest one, is that I just quit my college job. I didn't particularly love my job (the people were great, but I just never could find any meaning in it, which is just so hard on me.) But that wasn't the reason I quit the job. I quit it because I got real job. Like not a job simply to pay the bills, but a job where I'm doing something that I'm very passionate about. And in a way I'm not actually done with college, because I'll actually be working at UC with students that I love telling them about Jesus and how much He loves them and wants to be with them.
But when I walked in and quit that job, I found myself having such a hard time. Don't get me wrong, I was excited to move forward from that job and into this new job doing something I love. But in quitting that last college job, I felt that deep sense of finality, just like I felt when I saw Mikeyy walk across the stage or as I walked through the basement of my old house turning off the lights for that very last time, that sense that I was done with this chapter of my life and I'm moving on to a new day.


So those are my milestones at the beginning of the summer of 2015. And they all happened in almost the same month in such close proximity that it was impossible not to notice. I'm not one to believe in coincidence, so I know that there is something going on there for me to learn, something that God is trying to show me. No idea what it is yet really. Getting it down in words is so helpful, to see so many solid and physical things to show that this time of my life is over. I keep on waking up with that deep sense of finality--not like I'm just finishing a book, but like I'm slamming it shut. And slamming it shut, not because I'm glad it's over, but because it was lived (or read) so freaking well.

All those things that happened that I mentioned earlier (and so many more things, both good and bad) made this chapter of my life such an amazing chapter. And it is sad to know that it's over, that the sun has set on that day where I learned so many things.
I learned that life is hard.
I learned that life is so good.
I learned how to laugh and have a good time, even when it's so hard.
I learned how to see beauty, even when things are so painful.
I learned to trust in God.
I learned that family friends are the most important things you will have on this earth.
I learned that, for whatever reason, my friends and family not only like me, but they believe in me.
I learned to live my life sincerely every day.
I learned that I still have so much to learn.
I learned that it doesn't matter how smart or cool or equipped I am.
I learned that God is hilarious, and He loves to show off to His kids.
I learned how to love, to live, to laugh.
I learned how to see God in the small things, to always be on the look for Him.
I learned that even when I don't get what I want, God is good. Always.

So yeah. That day is over. That book is closed. That time of my life is done. Which does make me sad. And scared. And nervous. But it also makes me excited. And scared. And nervous. Because that just means it's time to crack open a new brand new book, to wake up at the dawn of a brand new day and start living it.

Remember Today, Little Brother

"Remember today, little brother. Today, life is good." Boromir, the Lord of the Rings: the Two Towers, J.R.R. Tolkien

You would think that today would be a sad day in my memory. You would think that I would look back on this day five years ago and feel confusion, frustration, maybe even anger at my circumstances. The funny thing is, all I can think of when I look back on this day is this quote from when Boromir and his little brother, Faramir, just took back Osgiliath for Gondor. At first, it was a very happy statement. They had just won the battle, and it was time to celebrate. Then their father, Denethor came in, did his thing, and ruined the celebration, before sending Boromir off to aid in mission with the ring. Even through the frustration of Denethor's actions, Boromir repeated this phrase to his little brother before he rode off: "Remember today, little brother. Today, life is good."

I guess I should take you back in time to what happened in my life five years ago on this day. We were all sitting up in my room together, waiting for the phone to ring. Dad was out of town so we had him conferenced in on our phones. Just sitting and waiting. I couldn't tell you how long we waited, but it felt like forever. Then the phone rang. And that's when we got the news the my Mum had cancer.

Over the next few weeks and months, life changed so much, as you would expect. I was 15 or 16 and I basically had to turn in the rest of my childhood and my years as a teenager to take care of Mum. Mikeyy and I took care of her every day while Dad was at work. Somehow, she still managed to teach classes at our homeschool co-op. Life really never was the same.

When I look back on it all now, I feel like I should look back on it with regret--regret that our family had to go through this trial, regret that I had to give up my childhood at such an early age, and so on. The funny thing is that I absolutely don't. If I could go back in time and tell myself one thing, I would tell myself what Boromir told Faramir: "Remember today...today, life is good." The thing is, when Mum got cancer, my life never stopped being good. Sure, it got harder, but those struggles are what make the easy times in life even more precious. And those easy times in life have a similar effect on the harder times--you look back on them and realize that in some weird way, they were a blessing, no matter how hard they got.

I got the chance to take care of my Mum, to return the favor for how much of an amazing blessing she's been as my mother. I got to team up with my little brother and cook her food and clean the house for her and just bless her. I got to get together with some of my best friends and build steps in our backyard down to the tennis court, so that even though she couldn't play tennis, Mum could at least have a quick and easy way to go watch.

We had to find a new way to do life, and there were things that we couldn't do together. But even though our lives got harder, God never stopped endlessly blessing our family. We had new opportunities to trust in Him and rest in that. We learned how precious and how important we were to each other (even if it was learned the hard way.) We learned to live sincerely, not taking any moment with each other for granted. We learned to smile and laugh through pain. Above all, we learned that God. Is. Good.

So today, I don't look back five years ago with regret. Sure, what we had to go through was sad and hard, but I don't look on it with regret. I look on it the way Boromir looked on his goodbye to his little brother. I didn't know this back then, but it was a very bittersweet day. It was hard, but in the end, that doesn't take away from the fact that today is good.

Right before Boromir said his little phrase, he said one more thing. The men had just finished a huge battle, and as he looked around, he noticed something.
"Break out the ale! These men are thirsty!"
While today marks the five year anniversary of us hearing the C-word, this Friday marks the five year anniversary of my Mum being cancer free. Now, it's time to break out the ale, celebrate the good times, celebrate the hard times, celebrate joy through the pain, and celebrate each other.

So, I say again: "Remember today, little brother. Today is good."

There and Back Again...(and Hopefully There Again)

"And thus it was: a fourth age of Middle-Earth began. And the fellowship of the ring, though eternally bound by friendship and love, was ended. Thirteen months to the day since Gandalf sent us on our long journey, we found ourselves looking upon a familiar sight. We were home. How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand--there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend, some hurts that go too deep...that have taken hold.--Frodo Baggins: Return of the King, J.R.R. Tolkien

I never thought coming home would be so hard. It's crazy to think that almost exactly two weeks ago I was scared to leave home (first mission trip and whatnot), and by the time those two weeks were over I was scared to leave the world I found and go back home. It's not because I was hurt by the trip and what I witnessed over there, it's more so that my heart was so profoundly touched by what I saw—the utter darkness and brokenness and evil that I saw at the very beginning of the trip, followed by seeing and experiencing the love, joy, healing, and hope that is the reason Destiny Rescue exists. Even thinking about it now, I'm completely overwhelmed.

Back to the Beginning

When I saw Destiny Rescue offered mission trips, there was no question of if I would go. I signed up the moment I saw the link on their website. I have been donating money to DR for nearly 5 years, ever since they first came to my church in 2008. My heart broke when I learned that trafficking of children was a thing. Finally, I had the chance to actually do something with them.

          Sure, during the fundraising process and the long wait until I left, I had second thoughts and doubts about whether or not I should cancel and throw in the towel. But God provided so incredibly (I raised over $3500 in 3-4 weeks), that I had no doubt in my heart that this trip was exactly where He wanted me to be. So with all my nervousness, I trusted Him and on Monday, July 29, flew almost 24 hours from Cincinnati to Atlanta to Tokyo to Bangkok to see what He had for me. And I'll never be the same.

A Step Into Hell

Our first day in Thailand, we made the trip from Bangkok to a city called Pattaya. Pattaya is known to be the "sex-cation" capitol of the world. In this city alone there are about 20,000 brothels. I'll let you do the math on how many people that means are trapped in trafficking. The most accurate description I can think of comes from Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope: "You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy."

          The whole point of our day in Pattaya was for us to witness a place called Walking Street. Walking Street is a part of the red light district in Pattaya. It’s about a mile long stretch of road dedicated entirely to prostitution and bars. This was also the scariest part of the trip for me. Even going to get dinner in regular parts of the city, there were women at almost every bar calling out and grabbing me (at one point, I had about 5 girls grabbing my arm at the same time, pulling me in different directions.)

          It was heartbreaking, to say the least. The walk through was maybe about a mile long, but it felt like forever--bar after bar after bar, displaying almost every theme of perverted sexual fantasy in the book. It was quite literally a step into hell. Walking through, seeing these girls that are just trapped was one of the most sobering experiences in my life. It was here that the mission of Destiny Rescue became real. Even though many of the girls were laughing and yelling and flirting with the hundreds of guys that walked through, when you looked them in the eyes, there was no life or joy. The experience was so real and sobering, but everything you saw was absolutely fake. No girl grows up dreaming of doing this.
          It was the kind of place that made you disgusted to be a human, and ashamed to be a man, being lumped together with all the other men going there to use and abuse these girls.

Rescue

The entire rest of the trip was dedicated to seeing the hope and restoration that is why Destiny Rescue exists. The next day we went back to Bangkok and visited our first rescue home. Six girls lived there, cared for by three women. The juxtaposition of these two experiences—Walking Street followed directly by the rescue home—was one of the most profoundly impactful moments of the trip for me. Seeing that there really is a life, hope, healing, and even joy after all the darkness that we witnessed at Walking Street was so powerful.
          At first, the girls there were all pretty shy (the language barrier didn't help much either), but they quickly warmed up to us and were so sweet and welcoming, even to the point of making lunch for the whole team. Dana, one of the members of my team, was also awesome (as always) and brought some nail polish to bless the girls and paint their nails. After lunch and nail painting, the girls took us out to a park across the street and taught us how to play their version of dodge ball, which was so much fun.
          These laughs and smiles were the real deal. That is what we're fighting for. That is the hope we have for every single girl still trapped.

The Chiangs

Those were just the first two days. The rest of the trip was spent between two cities: Chiang Rai and Chiang Mai. It was in these two cities that Thailand stole my heart. It wasn't the place at all though. The cities are so dirty compared to the incredibly blessed lifestyle that I'm used to. Thailand is hot and humid all day every day. We were there during the rainy season and the drainage system there doesn't work well, so the streets were flooded some days. Even living there for two short weeks wasn't easy. Sure, Thailand is beautiful to look at, and has some really cool attractions (and the food was AMAZING), but it wasn't the place at all. It was the people I met while I was there.

The volunteer staff over there is amazing. I met some of the coolest, most passionate people while there. They have a vision for Destiny Rescue to have rescue and prevention homes in every single country where child sexual slavery exists. They have a vision to double the number of rescues every year and have rescued 100,000 by December 31, 2020. They are constantly working every day to do everything they can to see the child sex slave trade come to an end within our lifetime.

More than anything though, it was the rescue girls and prevention kids I met during my time there. Going into those rescue homes, I was nervous. Being a man, I felt I would look to them just like one of the men that are the very reason they were trapped, used, and abused. What I saw and felt and witnessed completely took me off guard. At first, they were always very shy. The language barrier always made things a little bit difficult. But in the end, the words didn't even matter. What mattered was the fact that we were there for them, whether it was to teach them English, to play games with them, or even just sit with them. What mattered is that we were not only showing them our love for them, but we were also showing them the healing love of Jesus.

It's purely because of Him that I was able to connect with Napah, one of the rescue girls in Chiang Mai. Because of Jesus, I was able to sit with her and play worship music on the guitar, while she sang the words in Thai. I got to experience God in a new way. He's so powerful that language barriers don't even matter when it comes to worshipping Him. He's so glorious that he completely transcends that and meets people during worship, no matter whether they understand each other while worshipping or not.

It's because of Him that I was able to connect with Esther, another of the girls at the Chiang Mai rescue home, and have a paint fight with her mere minutes after we met. It's because of Him that she was able to trust me after a day of knowing me and jump on my back and pretend I was an elephant, pulling my ears to make me go different directions.

Aftermath of the paint war

Esther

          We got to bless Esther and Napah and the girls at the Chiang Mai rescue home by pooling our money to take them out for the first time in three months to an amazing day of bamboo raft rides, ox drawn cart rides, elephant shows, and elephant rides.

Elephant ride with Napah

If you were to walk into one of these rescue homes without any knowledge of what the place was, you would have absolutely no idea of where these girls had come from because of the sweetness and happiness and joy these girls have. Jesus' love is so powerful that he's restoring their hearts and their innocence, and they're just able to be kids and just have fun again.

We spent time at the prevention homes playing soccer and volleyball and badminton (and getting owned at it every time!) with little boys and girls, like Fil (I think that's how her name is spelled), a sweet, but attitude—filled little girl who really knows how to butter up a westerner like me, or this precious little boy, whose name I didn't catch, that came up and just wanted a lap to sit on and someone to swing him around and toss him up in the air.

Me and Fil

          Destiny Rescue not only trains the girls to make jewelry to make a living, but also to work as hairdressers, to make wallets, purses, bags, shirts, and to work in the Destiny Cafe as baristas and cooks. And let me tell you, these girls are so professional, and the work they do is stellar.

          One of the saddest stories I heard came from one of the ladies working at the Destiny Salon. One day before work, she asked her girls what their dreams were. Not one of them had an answer. The evil done to them had stripped them of that, stripped them of any hope for a future, stripped them of their destiny.
          Destiny Rescue is helping to give that back to them.
          That's what it's all about.
          That's why when I left Thailand and came back to the US, I left my heart behind.

The End (or is it?)

And now I'm home, and I'm in that exact same place as Frodo was at the end of his journey--how to pick up the strands of an old life, when in my heart I understand that there really is no going back. These experiences have gone so deep, have taken a hold of my heart, and I would never take any of it back. There is truly no going back to the way things were before, the way I saw the world before, the person I was before. Leaving Thailand was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, and now I just have to find ways to continue doing this work from afar--sharing my experiences, spreading the word, sponsoring my new friends so that they can continue their journey of healing.

There are just three final thoughts I want to leave you with. The first is from Edmund Burke: "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing."

The second is from Isaiah 61:1. "He has sent me to bind up and heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and opening of the prison and of the eyes of those who are bound."

The final is from the story of my own personal hero: Spider-man. This is a lesson he learned the hard way, through losing someone he loved as a consequence of not taking action: "With great power comes great responsibility.”

I may not be a superhero, but if I have the means to do something to save these girls, then not only do I have the moral obligation to do it, but I want to do it with all my heart. I don't know where I'm headed, if I'll be working with Destiny Rescue in my future or going back to Thailand (I know I hope I do), but what I do know is Jesus has a plan for these girls. They have a future and a destiny. The injustice being done to these children must stop, and I'll do whatever I can to help this happen. Let's put an end to this once and for all.

God is good. His love is the most powerful thing in the universe. Hope is real.