Last semester, I began a HUG blog, detailing our travels and experiences together, getting to know this new land across the ocean. This semester, Chuck Hicks, our visiting faculty member from HU's Searcy campus, teaches the students, mentors and loves us all, and waits here at HUG with us for his wife to join us for the remainder of the summer semester. Chuck and Melinda are neighbors of ours in Searcy and are our shepherds from our home congregation at Downtown when we're back in America. They are dear, special people. On Facebook, Chuck is numbering the HUG days (and the days spent apart from his sweet Melinda in anticipation of her joining us) in his posts and sharing his reflections of his experience here at HUG. I'll post some here to document the summer so far so that these students' parents can share in that same gift of documentation; the students are WONDERFUL at posting pictures, but sometimes the parents like a few more written details. This blog serves as my (and now Chuck's) attempt at giving them a window into our journeys this summer at HUG. Following are Chuck's reflections from Facebook:
Day 5: There are times and places on this journey which are perfect for reflection... sort of an intentional contemplation brought on by an environment that encourages deeper thought. We sat in chapel this morning and listened to a young man who spoke of caring for refugees... addressing the needs of desperate souls who are looking for escape from war, oppression, persecution and poverty. In our own secluded spheres we don't often see such conditions. We know they exist... but seldom do we see them up close and personal. I sat near the rocky seashore this evening and thought about these things... that perhaps the biggest gift this trip offers is perspective. I believe that feeling small is perhaps the best way to comprehend vastness and that feeling helpless is the best way to understand grace... and I believe that sometimes the most profound truths are not found in textbooks... but in the deeper expressions of man's sorrows and confusion. "Fear not, says the Lord, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters... I will be with you. For I am the Lord your God."
Day 6: It was "Pizza Night" at HUG this evening which came after we had attended classes all day, lunched at a Greek restaurant by the sea and then worshipped in Athens in the afternoon. A Ukrainian doctor spoke at the assembly. He called us his family and told the miracle of his coming to faith in a communist, war-torn country. He told of feeling an emptiness at the age of seventeen that he didn't understand. He was given a Russian New Testament by a drug addict (who later died of an overdose) so he read the New Testament. I suppose what strikes me is not that he found God, or that God found him... but I sat in wonder at how his excitement was still real today... after twenty years. His eyes lit up when he spoke the name of Jesus. His body language embraced his Savior as a child holds tightly to his mother. His deep, abiding love of Christ was spoken with a heartfelt passion. When I hear such a story, told with such conviction it reminds me of how God still listens ... and answers the cries of the lonely, abandoned, broken... even the empty... and I am glad. Sometimes we get so consumed by "our tiny world" that we forget that there is more to it... a lot more... and "out there" God still walks among the people and listens... to their hearts. "Where cross the crowded ways of life, where sound the cries of race and clan, above the noise of selfish strife, we hear thy voice, O Son of man."
Day 7: It has been exactly one week since we landed in Greece, fatigued but excited to begin. Met by Clay and Loren Beason, the nicest couple in the whole world ( arguably tied with Mike and Beth, Robbie and Mona), we hit the ground running and, as expected, every day is a new sight, sound, smell, taste or touch. Already the classes are compelling and challenging, the experiences are exciting and exhausting and the memories are magnificant and many. We've about gotten over the jetlag. It seems like it's been longer than a week... and yet shorter than a day. How quickly today becomes yesterday... and yet, through God's grace, there's always tomorrow... and tomorrow ... well... around here it seems a good idea to hang on tight...
Day 8: On the walls of the stairwell as I walk down from my room I see pictures of the many groups that have made this journey to Greece... those who have more or less paved the way... those who have walked the same streets, climbed the same mountains, sat on the same beaches, felt insignificant in the context of relentless history, those who have longed to know more, to feel more, to touch more and to understand more. They know what we are feeling at this moment. They know the anticipation at the beginning of this adventure. They also know what lies ahead... what's around the corner... the view from the top... and yet they don't know, not really... because each tale is its own... each path takes unforeseen turns... each ear hears a different voice... each eye catches a different vision... each heart has its own special places. So, today my thought is that we, HUG Summer 2015, claim a grateful kinship with those who have preceded us... and we claim a special bond with those who will follow, acknowledging all the while that our way is in the hands of Him in whose steps we follow... wherever He may guide us. To Him be glory and praise forevermore.
Day 9: We learned how to make Greek coffee today... said to be like a healthy marriage... in need of much patience and love. It was very good coffee... stout, but not too acidic... maybe also like a good relationship. A storm came up this afternoon with some "kettle drum" thunder and horizontal lightning, and a real downpour ensued for a while. It was so lovely and refreshing and probably the last rain we'll see this summer. This evening we made sack lunches, had a picnic outside of the 2004 Olympic Stadium and then we went inside and enjoyed a great soccer game. Our team, which coincidentally wears Harding colors, won 1 to 0. Many bought scarves and jerseys and cheered with some enthusiasm. I enjoyed my traditional mid-game hotdog and thus, all things considered, it was an absolutely perfect evening!
Day 10: I'm sitting on a bench next to the docks on this late evening in Porto Rafti, Greece. A cool breeze from the sea gently strokes my face as the sun is about to disappear behind a nearby mountain. On this evening... an evening as soft as a mother's kiss on the cheek of a sleeping baby, I am struck by the similarity of the human condition around planet earth. I could easily be sitting on a park bench in Manhattan, or maybe in Munich, or Maastricht. There are older people walking by talking softly, teenage girls giggling at "selfies", young families pushing strollers, little boys bouncing balls, bikers, walkers, runners each carrying whatever they must carry in their lives, thoughts... or in deeper more private places that only God can see. I haven't learned the Greek language yet, so I haven't a clue what is being said around me... I guess it's not really necessary to know everything. My thought is that most folks just want to live in peace. Some don't... but most do. If, at this moment, I were asked to write about what's going on in the world, I think I'd write about this place... where on this effortless evening in May there is peace. It might be nice to let the rest of the world know that there really are places of peace. Seems like that would be a welcome bit of news. "Find rest my soul, in Christ alone. Know his power in quietness and trust... "
Day 11: Guitars line the wall here at the Artemas, our home away from home here in Greece. It's only proper since most of the students want to learn how to play... at least a little. At about any time of the day or night you can hear the potentially lovely sounds of guitars playing. In our Bible class today I began by quoting the Myra Brooks Welch poem, "The Touch of the Master's Hand." A person who plays well, meaning that their playing brings pleasure to listeners, to one degree or another, serves as an illustration of one who takes a lifeless, out-of-tune, scarred, beaten up shell... and through a touch brings renewal... hope... life. "There's many a man with his life out of tune, ragged and scarred by sin. And he's offered cheap to a thankless world, much like that old violin. But then the Master comes and the foolish crowd can never understand the worth of a soul and the change that is wrought by just one touch of the Master's hand." No matter how broken and untogether life seems... there's always hope. It only takes one touch...
Day 5: There are times and places on this journey which are perfect for reflection... sort of an intentional contemplation brought on by an environment that encourages deeper thought. We sat in chapel this morning and listened to a young man who spoke of caring for refugees... addressing the needs of desperate souls who are looking for escape from war, oppression, persecution and poverty. In our own secluded spheres we don't often see such conditions. We know they exist... but seldom do we see them up close and personal. I sat near the rocky seashore this evening and thought about these things... that perhaps the biggest gift this trip offers is perspective. I believe that feeling small is perhaps the best way to comprehend vastness and that feeling helpless is the best way to understand grace... and I believe that sometimes the most profound truths are not found in textbooks... but in the deeper expressions of man's sorrows and confusion. "Fear not, says the Lord, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters... I will be with you. For I am the Lord your God."
Day 6: It was "Pizza Night" at HUG this evening which came after we had attended classes all day, lunched at a Greek restaurant by the sea and then worshipped in Athens in the afternoon. A Ukrainian doctor spoke at the assembly. He called us his family and told the miracle of his coming to faith in a communist, war-torn country. He told of feeling an emptiness at the age of seventeen that he didn't understand. He was given a Russian New Testament by a drug addict (who later died of an overdose) so he read the New Testament. I suppose what strikes me is not that he found God, or that God found him... but I sat in wonder at how his excitement was still real today... after twenty years. His eyes lit up when he spoke the name of Jesus. His body language embraced his Savior as a child holds tightly to his mother. His deep, abiding love of Christ was spoken with a heartfelt passion. When I hear such a story, told with such conviction it reminds me of how God still listens ... and answers the cries of the lonely, abandoned, broken... even the empty... and I am glad. Sometimes we get so consumed by "our tiny world" that we forget that there is more to it... a lot more... and "out there" God still walks among the people and listens... to their hearts. "Where cross the crowded ways of life, where sound the cries of race and clan, above the noise of selfish strife, we hear thy voice, O Son of man."
Day 7: It has been exactly one week since we landed in Greece, fatigued but excited to begin. Met by Clay and Loren Beason, the nicest couple in the whole world ( arguably tied with Mike and Beth, Robbie and Mona), we hit the ground running and, as expected, every day is a new sight, sound, smell, taste or touch. Already the classes are compelling and challenging, the experiences are exciting and exhausting and the memories are magnificant and many. We've about gotten over the jetlag. It seems like it's been longer than a week... and yet shorter than a day. How quickly today becomes yesterday... and yet, through God's grace, there's always tomorrow... and tomorrow ... well... around here it seems a good idea to hang on tight...
Day 8: On the walls of the stairwell as I walk down from my room I see pictures of the many groups that have made this journey to Greece... those who have more or less paved the way... those who have walked the same streets, climbed the same mountains, sat on the same beaches, felt insignificant in the context of relentless history, those who have longed to know more, to feel more, to touch more and to understand more. They know what we are feeling at this moment. They know the anticipation at the beginning of this adventure. They also know what lies ahead... what's around the corner... the view from the top... and yet they don't know, not really... because each tale is its own... each path takes unforeseen turns... each ear hears a different voice... each eye catches a different vision... each heart has its own special places. So, today my thought is that we, HUG Summer 2015, claim a grateful kinship with those who have preceded us... and we claim a special bond with those who will follow, acknowledging all the while that our way is in the hands of Him in whose steps we follow... wherever He may guide us. To Him be glory and praise forevermore.
Day 9: We learned how to make Greek coffee today... said to be like a healthy marriage... in need of much patience and love. It was very good coffee... stout, but not too acidic... maybe also like a good relationship. A storm came up this afternoon with some "kettle drum" thunder and horizontal lightning, and a real downpour ensued for a while. It was so lovely and refreshing and probably the last rain we'll see this summer. This evening we made sack lunches, had a picnic outside of the 2004 Olympic Stadium and then we went inside and enjoyed a great soccer game. Our team, which coincidentally wears Harding colors, won 1 to 0. Many bought scarves and jerseys and cheered with some enthusiasm. I enjoyed my traditional mid-game hotdog and thus, all things considered, it was an absolutely perfect evening!
Day 10: I'm sitting on a bench next to the docks on this late evening in Porto Rafti, Greece. A cool breeze from the sea gently strokes my face as the sun is about to disappear behind a nearby mountain. On this evening... an evening as soft as a mother's kiss on the cheek of a sleeping baby, I am struck by the similarity of the human condition around planet earth. I could easily be sitting on a park bench in Manhattan, or maybe in Munich, or Maastricht. There are older people walking by talking softly, teenage girls giggling at "selfies", young families pushing strollers, little boys bouncing balls, bikers, walkers, runners each carrying whatever they must carry in their lives, thoughts... or in deeper more private places that only God can see. I haven't learned the Greek language yet, so I haven't a clue what is being said around me... I guess it's not really necessary to know everything. My thought is that most folks just want to live in peace. Some don't... but most do. If, at this moment, I were asked to write about what's going on in the world, I think I'd write about this place... where on this effortless evening in May there is peace. It might be nice to let the rest of the world know that there really are places of peace. Seems like that would be a welcome bit of news. "Find rest my soul, in Christ alone. Know his power in quietness and trust... "
Day 11: Guitars line the wall here at the Artemas, our home away from home here in Greece. It's only proper since most of the students want to learn how to play... at least a little. At about any time of the day or night you can hear the potentially lovely sounds of guitars playing. In our Bible class today I began by quoting the Myra Brooks Welch poem, "The Touch of the Master's Hand." A person who plays well, meaning that their playing brings pleasure to listeners, to one degree or another, serves as an illustration of one who takes a lifeless, out-of-tune, scarred, beaten up shell... and through a touch brings renewal... hope... life. "There's many a man with his life out of tune, ragged and scarred by sin. And he's offered cheap to a thankless world, much like that old violin. But then the Master comes and the foolish crowd can never understand the worth of a soul and the change that is wrought by just one touch of the Master's hand." No matter how broken and untogether life seems... there's always hope. It only takes one touch...
RSS Feed