The Sun Also Rises

(okay, so really, this is not the Suz... it's me--just to clarify--she was going to post for me but I made it to a computer)

HEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Well, after a long and treacherous journey, I’ve made it to the internet in a small star bucks on post. I have all of about 10 minutes here, but here’s a picture of my bed where I’ll be sleeping (in a football field sized tent!) for the next couple weeks.

The most important thing I can say is a huge, gigantic, monumental thank you from the bottom of my heart. All of the kind words and support is amazing--even though I can’t check my blog comments I have a special friend who reads them to me.

Real quickly--things have gotten a lot better and I’ve made a few good, Christian friends (see story below that I wrote last night for an example). The food is good, the mornings are cold/afternoons hot, we’re busy from about 5am to 9pm, but I’m hanging in there. I read a lot of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, miss Rebecca every second of every minute of every hour of every day, and have grown to love my beret, depsite looking "totally French."

Oh, and the papparazzi are EVERYwhere! They've taken to posing as soldiers and it's hard to focus with all the camera flashes. Plus, EVERYone wants my autograph. It's like Studio 54 without the mixed drinks...

I love all you out there and I’ll write more when I get a chance--it should be sooner than later.

Tenaciously,
Michael

**

(I wrote this last night...)

And then there were the times of utter confusion…

Sitting alone, digging into a huge plate of sweet and sour chicken I solemnly chewed my food and watched the hordes of people all around, playing out their folly. My solemn splendor was interrupted when a 40 year old Staff Sergeant unexpectedly sat down across from me. Silently I cursed myself for failing to have my ipod on, the universal sign for don’t mess with me, not now, not ever.

I look at his nervous face and offer a nod, playing it cool. Almost too cool.

He leans in close and at near whisper speaks quickly. “So I heard that you were, well, you know, a… Christian.”

“Yeah man, I’m a… (leaning in close, eyebrows arched) Christian.”

He breathes a sigh of relief like a mother who has finally located her mischievous children on tax free weekend at the Pottery Barn. Loosening up, he launches right in, an air of confidence having settled all around him, his voice moving with the grace of the holy spirit.

First he asks me if I have any idea when church service is.

No.

Then he asks me if I have any Christian music with me, especially any Steven Curtis Chapman.

Double no.

Then things took a turn for the worse. Excitedly, he raced to explain.

“Well then, I w as thinking about setting up some sort of small ministry or weekly meeting once we arrive in Germany. Just something small and simple for other Christians to get to know each other and such.”

I’m nodding and doing the lip thing, teetering on the brink of playing it too cool. “Yeah Sergeant, that sounds like a great idea. I was hoping to set something like that up if there wasn’t already. I’m down.”

He pounds his fist on the table, his body arrested with excitement and spiritual fervor. Hey, that’s completely cool with me--he gets a little exhilarated when talking about the Lord--maybe we need some more of that these days anyway.

But then, oh then it happened.

He said, “I think we should plan some outreach events. I’m really into the creative arts. It’s cool to play movies and have social events, but I think a better direction is puppetry. I really like to build puppets and do puppet shows. I think we could really spread some truth with a good puppet show.”

I stare at him blankly, my eyes like dinner plates, stone armed and freezing. The puckered lips had been replaced by a slightly ajar mouth. Finally I managed to say, “Uh yeah, that sounds really good man” while offering a slow, dubious nod. To be honest, the whole episode was rather disconcerting and I didn’t know exactly what else to do.

Somehow I was just thinking the last thing that the military type needs a two act show where Pinocchio not only becomes a real boy but actually discovers eternal life.

*Disclaimer: He’s a really good guy. Friendly, honest, moral, trust worthy. He’s just into, err, puppets. Hey, to each his own.