Backwards

"It was, I think, Voltaire who first observed that ever since God made man in his own image man has been trying to return the compliment. Whoever said it, it is true, and many theological mistakes have been made through likening the God of infinite power, holiness, goodness, and wisdom to finite and fallen humanity."

- J.I. Packer, Still Sovereign

R.I.P. iTunes Radio

I dedicate this entry to my great friend Joseph Robinson. He is currently serving the Lord just a hop, skip, & jump away in Africa. He has a month or so left over there, therefor I won't be able to reap the sucking-up benefits for a good while. But I'll live. Last semester he introduced me to what very well could be the greatest internet innovation since Gmail. It is called Pandora, and she is a joy! Pandora is an on-line streaming internet radio that customizes and molds itself to meet your listening needs. Now, you ask, how in the jiminy cricket does that work? Here's the deal. You type in any artist or song name you so choose. Pandora then searches it out and plays it. That's simple and basic. Now here's where Pandora soars. The radio then begins searching its gynormous database for other music that it thinks might tickle your fancy. You then have the option of responding by clicking the thumbs-up ("I like it") or the thumbs-down ("Eh, not so much") buttons. Based on your ratings, Pandora becomes all the more "wise" and is able to make remarkably good music choices for you. It's fun. I hope you try it and fall in love as well. Here's to Joe and his gal Pandora.
Cheers.

Faith Runs Deep

I began reading Isaiah. I've heard it is a beefy book. After 9 chapters, I would have to agree. There is definitely some heftiness to it. I've only tapped on the surface, but I'm excited to delve on in. In Is. 7:9 I found this...

"If you are not firm in faith, you will not be firm at all."

How good is that? I knew this was a verse I must take note of, but I was puzzled that I'd never heard it before. Surely some coffee mug or Bible bookmark or 365-day Christian desk calendar has used it. Right? Maybe not. I also came across this photo I took 2 months ago of my fellow church youth group leader people. At some point I wanted both the verse and the picture to make the front page of this fine journalistic piece. I decided to do both now, but not simply to kill two birds with one stone. I see a very real relationship between this verse and this picture. As each of these people would testify, leading youth is a struggle. It takes a level of love, energy, time, passion, and selflessness that is impossible to attain apart from Christ. Faith in him, in his death, in his victory, in his power, and in his plan for these youth is from which firmness, steadfastness, and joy abundantly flow. Every single one of us in that photo at some point (me, multiple points) got confident in ourself, forgot who and what that ministry is all about, and then subsequently smacked face first into a brick wall. The Lord teaches. And we, by grace, learn a little. As the apostled cried to Jesus in Luke 17:5,

"Increase our faith!"

{Day 30} The End

"I got to dress up in funny clothes and run around New Zealand with a bow and arrow for 18 months, how bad could that be?" - Orlando Bloom
Not bad at all, Sir Legolos. I didn't have Middle Earth attire or a sweet weapon, but I did get to run around for a month, and for that I am so grateful. My time here has come to an end, and I now must leave this treasure of an island. I have seen the most stunning of sights and met the most interesting of people. I have taken more pictures than I know what to do with. I did my best to grab hold of every sensation, memory, and event from this trip. I continually found myself in the middle of places I never thought I'd be, places I hardly thought existed. But in this country they do, and they are typical. Take these two photos, for example, which I took from the side of the road. Yea! And this is commonplace when looking out of a New Zealand windshield.

I foresee New Zealand being a place I will always miss and continually dream of revisiting. I will miss its breathtaking surroundings, the casual, easygoing vibe of the locals, and the purity of its outdoors. And I will most dearly miss having people telling me "Cheers!" As Peter Jackson said, New Zealand is not so much a small country, but rather a large village. That is the best way to nutshell this place. I got to travel thousands of kilometers, see oceans and mountain peaks and everything between, all the while never venturing out of this little village. New Zealand, I greatly enjoyed it. Farewell my beautiful.

{Day 29} Coronet Peak

I think what is so remarkable about the trip thus far is that - for the most part - every day is the best day. And because every day is the best, I have a hard time answering the "What was you favorite?" question. Back in Napier, I met two fellows from England in their mid-20's. Now these guys were absolutely hilarious, abdominal-hurting funny. Their topics, quotes, and insights were so entertaining, I actually jotted them down for the record. One of them was, "How that guy in the robo suit didn't win an Oscar, I haven't a clue!" (RoboCop was on the TV, and he insisted it was one of the finest movies of his childhood.) On a more intelligent note, Ben told us an insight he had: All the travel and guidebooks list the "Best 5..." or the "20 Finest..." of everything from tramping trails to Fish & Chips shacks. There are so many of these lists that one can visit or do 50 things that are all "Top 10." Peculiar.

I tell you all of this because that best describes my experience. My time in New Zealand is a "Top 10" list containing a hundred moments. And skiing Coronet Peak in Queenstown, NZ is one of them. The slopes here are quite different from those in the States. Colorado has massive mountains with countless runs and an even more countless number of people. New Zealand's mountains are a bit smaller (one lift length from base to peak). The crowds are...well, there are no crowds (ski straight onto the lift). And the slopes are wide open. Zero trees. We only had one day to hit the slopes, and we couldn't have been blessed with more beautiful one. Richard and I crammed in a good couple dozen runs and then called it day. A wonderful day.

If you thought for a moment that was me, thank you. But it's not. I was the hardcore guy taking the picture.

{Day 28} Droflim

"The most breath-taking road journey in New Zealand must surely be along State Highway 94 in Fiordland on the remote southwest side of the South Island. The route winds through a stunning landscape of towering mountains and steep valleys of dense native forest. At the road's end the valley opens into the deep, narrow fiord of Milford Sound. The stunning beauty of the view, with Mitre Peak rising majestically from the water, beckons the visitor on board a boat to explore the passage that leads 15 kilometers to the open sea." These words come straight off the back of a postcard I bought, and they couldn't be more true. We were beckoned, we boarded a boat, and we sailed the glorious fiord.

Milford Sound is regarded as one of the world's greatest treasures. Hundreds of thousands of people a year drive that 2-lane road to get here, and I would dare say that not a single one has ever left disappointed. Because we were visiting during the winter, the snow was plentiful and the crowds were not. It was perfect.

We sailed through the sound, made a U-turn at the Pacific Ocean, and retraced our wake back inland. The trip was one of those events you just never want to end. Kind of like the instrumental ending of a fantastic song at a live concert, or a skydive. We feasted our eyes on everything from the snow-capped peaks above to the family of dolphins playing in the sea below. Indeed, the earth is filled with the Lord's glory, and creation sings it's praises loudly.

note: there is a prize for the 1st person to tell me the significance of today's title (and don't just 'google' it, that cheating!)

{Day 27} Tea. And You?

Following four fantastic and fun filled days in Queenstown, we continued our travels south and ran into Te Anau. Other than offering views like such, this town's main purpose for existence is to be a springboard into Milford Sound (I will familiarize you with Milford tomorrow). The grandeur known as Milford Sound is tucked away in a remote area of NZ, reachable only by a single, winding road. To reach this road one must visit Te Anau, and that's what brought us here.

I'll leave you with a map to prepare you for our journey tomorrow. Goodnight friends.

{Day 27} Queenstown Waterfront

Queenstown. It is to this little dot on the map that the masses flock. Queenstown has earned the reputation as the greatest place in New Zealand (just ask the cost-of-living stats). This is the place (like Colorado) where people run to, usually after college or a midlife crisis. This is also the place (again like Colorado) where people gravitate for outdoor, thrill-seeking activities. This place is perfect, but its perfectness takes away from its perfection. Shall I explain. As I mentioned yesterday, Queenstown has it all, therefore tourists (including myself) love it. No matter what you want to do, this town has it. The tourists are the lifeblood pumping through the veins of Queenstown. Tourists have money to give and want things to do, and the town has things to give and wants the money. It's a beautiful union.
But tourists also do something else very well, and that is departing. We come and we go with spectacular turn-around rates. And this - I think- is what bugs me about this place. It is less a community, and more a big cruise ship. All the employees of cruiseliners live on the boat because they are there to serve the guests. In the same way, everyone who lives in Queenstown makes their living by serving the tourists. I'm speculating that 80% of the people in Queenstown on any given day will be long gone by the following week. It is much like a college town, but accelerated 1,000 times. The town looses its "towness" because it becomes more of a business than a community of people. This is why I would struggle to live (long-term) in a place as such. But that's just my 2 cents at this point in my life. There might be different coins in my pocket down the road. Goodday.

{Day 25} Stretchy Lifeline

Next on the New Zealand agenda was the south island town of Queenstown. This mecca of outdoor tourism is the Vail, Colorado of the country. The similarities were incredible. There was skiing, backpacking, biking, jetboating, bungee jumping, hangliding, skydiving, on, and on. Of these, our group eagerly signed up to do the world's highest bungee jump. Suspended between 2 mountains, the Nevis Highwire Bungee is a quaint 440 ft. over the river below. Because I had expended all my fear and anxiety on the previous week's skydive, I boldly turned down this opportunity. My camera and I did, however, get to tag along for a front row view of the nonsense. Frankly, the whole bungee idea frightens me far more than jumping out of a plane. For one, I have more faith in parachutes than jumbo rubber bands. Secondly, the reward aspect of risk/reward far favors skydiver.

...I think I made the correct decision.

{Day 24} What Ever Happened To The Playground?

I have dined at McDonald's twice in the last 6 years of my life. Both of these instances took place in countries overseas (France & New Zealand). As you can tell, I'm a big fan of fast food. Here in NZ, it appears that cafes have replaced the typical playground or gymboree. Poor children. Oh the pain of growing up in a Starbucks generation! Anyways, I hated the idea of supporting this franchise, but out of curiosity I dropped $3 on a McDonald's Cafe Latte. Sadly enough, the latte was pretty good.

And this was too (but minus the sadly part). It was spectacular! Here I am watching the sun go to bed on the west coast of New Zealand. Fine way to end the day I dare say.

{Day 22-23} Those Rocks Make Me Hungry

Writing a journal entry that follows a post on my skydiving experience (see previous day) is like listening to Michael Moore blabber after hearing a speech by General Patton. The act simply cannot be followed. But because I must, I will give it a whirl. This post's topic - I admit - is not quite as thrilling, it's a topic none the less: pancakes. I had the opportunity to take a solo trip across the country to visit the west coast of NZ for a few days. I took it. I boarded the bus and 5 hours later I was viewing the other half of the Pacific. There was not much to do in the little town of which I stayed (Greymouth), but there was a touristy attraction just north along the coast line called the Pancake Rocks (seen below...kind of). Being a foreigner, I did my duty and checked it out. Essentially it's an area of coastal rocks that look like giant stacks of pancakes. I won't bore you with the details (mainly because I really don't understand them), but somehow these pancakes were formed over "billions" of years by erosion and sedimentary something-or-others.

I was planning on going further with the whole pancake thing (don't ask), but I think I better just cut my losses and end the madness now. Sorry for being a Michael Moore today, but I had to do it.

{Day 17} Free Falling Like Tom Petty

I now know what it feels like to plummet from a perfectly good airplane. And I lived to tell about it. So tell about it I will! It is the morning of June 17th, and I'm nervous, but that's an obvious. Adding to the nervousness of it all was the shuttle bus ride to the airstrip. I tell you this detail because it epitomizes this fine New Zealand skydiving establishment. The bus itself is a rinkydink metal barrel on 4 wheel. The driver makes a fine first impression as well when he finds himself incapable of getting his seatbelt to extract enough to buckle. He drives along, all the while fiddling with the apparatus as if it is some new, space-age invention he's never seen before. It's funny to watch, until he mentions to us that he will be our pilot for the day. Because he appears no more than 19 years old, we bust out in frightened laughter. The bus becomes quite, I pause, and then literally ask him, "You're kiddin' about the whole pilot thing, right?" He wasn't. So this day has begun fantastically. We arrive at the airport (read: 80 sq.ft. shack on an asphalt strip). I feel much better now! Then we get to sign waiver acknowledging we understand the risk involved, "...blah...blah, even death". Swell! Once we meet the two jumpmasters (the tandem guys who get strapped to our backs) and go through the briefing, I feel a bit better. My stomach goes from brink of hurling to just feeling queasy. My legs are still jittering uncontrollably, though. Around 9:00, Richard and I get to wait on the ground while our two friends head up to jump first. This was a torturous 30 minutes! We stood there watching this toy airplane climb and climb, becoming all the more toyish as it grew smaller in the sky. Then out pop two brightly colored jumpsuits, and I my belly jumps up to say hi to my larynx. I can't believe my eyes as I watch them fall towards us at terminal velocity. What a sight that was! They land safe and sound, and jubilantly tell us how stinking amazing it all was. Easy for them to say, they got it over with. Now it was my turn.

Richard and I adorn ourselves with sweet jumpsuits which only add to the whole foolishness of this morning. It's game time. The jumpmaster's hands I got to place my life into were Neil's. This man has successfully jumped out of a plane over 6,500 times. Can you imagine? I can't, but that statistic was beautifully reassuring to me. It's now time for me/Neil and Rich/Rob to get aboard our Crackerjack box with wings. This plane was so tiny it was funny. The cabin was no larger than a 2-person tent. Yet we crammed in four guys with two parachutes and a pre-pubescent pilot. Off we were! The climb to the jump altitude of 9,000 feet took 20 minutes. Those 20 minutes were moments of muscular spasms (I was both scared and cold), praying, and staring in awe at the views beneath me. It was truly an amazing flight. As we rose, the air temperature continued to drop well below freezing. The smoke of our long, deep breaths made for quite a dramatic effect. I see Neil glance again at the altimeter on his left wrist. The red needle kisses the 9. The time has come. Neil and I perform the task of rolling up the plastic door. That's right, plastic. We get her velcroed in place, and now there's a massive void in the starboard side of the plane. Oh crap! We scoot our butts to the edge. I drop my legs out of the plane and grab hold of my harness as instructed. Before I have time to piss myself, I'm distracted by my legs being swept to the right by the insane propeller wind pounding from the left. He nudges us out even further. Now I am completely out of the plane, supported mid-air by the 4-point harness. We rock back and forth to his cadence of "3...2...". I didn't hear one. We begin a 2 man, tangoed barrel-roll. Halfway though the spin my eyes catch the belly of the Cessna above, where Rich & Rob were readying themselves for the same dive. We level out, and I now see the earth below. At such a moment, your primal instincts take control and everything goes out the window. My arms and legs were flailing about, desperately searching for something to grab hold of. I snapped to after a second or two, remembering to assume the freefall position (spine arched back, arms out, legs bent up). The sensation of my horizontal body constantly colliding with the 132 mph wall of wind was unreal. The air fills your cheeks like a party balloon, it forces the plastic goggles even deeper into you face, and it's noise takes on a void silence. The freefall lasts 30 seconds (go ahead, count 30 mississippi's). I thought it would be an insanely long time, but up there 30 felt like 8. I hear some flapping, and the glorified tarps fully deploys above my head. Relief.

The wind in my ears ceases, allowing me to hear the nothingness. It's quiet. Pure solitude up there. My eyes dart around to take in the unbeatable sights. I want to savor this, to remember it, to fully experience it. Neil lets me take hold of the wires, and I perform a few turns and 360 spins. The glide down takes around 5 minutes, ending as Neil lands on a dime. I was speechless. That skydive was simply unreal. These words only provide a tiny glimpse of the entire experience. It is one of those things that no amount of video, photos, or stories could ever adequately convey. You just have to do it if you ever get the opportunity. You have my recommendation!