An Update from Harvard.
I'm in Cambridge staying with Alex. I took a red eye from Long Beach Saturday night. I missed being in Boston.
Alex and I went to church (it was good, not great), spent the day together, then I took a train to New York.
Alex in what seems to be the Maker's Mark-sponsored South Station
Train 169 to DC (I got off at Pennsylvania Station)
Bonnie met me at the station. Yesterday she and I explored several parts of the city and walked for many hours.
Lunch at Dizzy's
Manhattan from the Met(roplitan Museum of Art) in Central Park
Roxy Paine's Maelstrom sculpture on top of the roof of the Met
Apple Store entrance
It was great to catch up with her. We met up with several other friends later on.
Matt, Erin, Jon, Bonnie
This morning I took a train back to Boston and now I'm back at Harvard. Alex is working. I've had a lot of time to myself these past three days and I realize that Thursday night when I fly to Iceland, my life will be incredibly lonely. Maybe I'll make a friend to explore Reykjavik with. Probably not.
I've found it incredibly difficult to be social with new people these days. Yesterday I had some amazing conversations with several old friends. The words flowed like normal. Today on the Charlie into Cambridge a girl saw my guitar case asked me if I was going to go play music in Harvard Square. I mumbled out several incoherent words. I didn't really understand what she had asked to begin with. Several instances while traveling alone on the plane, the train, and the subway have really ended in some degree of humiliation. I feel like a small child. And the East Coast is somewhat of a culture shock. People are different here than Los Angeles. Not worse, not better, but most certainly different. This is only a small taste of the weeks to come. I'll have to navigate through Reykjavik, London, Edinburgh, and find my way from Leuchars to St Andrews. What am I doing? I won't have a mobile, I won't have a car. I probably won't have much foreign currency. And when I get to St Andrews I still don't have a permanent place to live. I'll be in a hostel again. And I'm not just visiting St Andrews, I'm moving there, i.e. I'm packed to move. I've got a large suitcase, a briefcase, a large backpack, and a guitar case.
I trust that God will continue to guide and protect me. I'd love prayer for community and finances/housing. We'll see what the future holds. I'd love to update more frequently, but I've not had the opportunity to update with internet service. I don't know when I will next be able to communicate back home after Thursday.
Because I've had the option of running back to Bonnie or Alex since I've left LA I haven't really experienced the bitterness of a more thorough loneliness. I've only considered what that might look like. I really miss you, my friends. My best friend, Hannah, I wish I could take you with me. I'm thinking of and praying for many of you back home. You've made it really difficult to leave and for that I thank you.
I must say that my eventual homesickness will not be a product of regret. I know that I am a sincere friend and that I've tried earnestly to pour into my friendships at home. Much of the time I was left alone, the fish weren't biting, and it was very discouraging. But I can't say that I didn't try to develop very intentional and intimate relationships.
Alex and I went to church (it was good, not great), spent the day together, then I took a train to New York.
Alex in what seems to be the Maker's Mark-sponsored South Station
Train 169 to DC (I got off at Pennsylvania Station)
Bonnie met me at the station. Yesterday she and I explored several parts of the city and walked for many hours.
Lunch at Dizzy's
Manhattan from the Met(roplitan Museum of Art) in Central Park
Roxy Paine's Maelstrom sculpture on top of the roof of the Met
Apple Store entrance
It was great to catch up with her. We met up with several other friends later on.
Matt, Erin, Jon, Bonnie
This morning I took a train back to Boston and now I'm back at Harvard. Alex is working. I've had a lot of time to myself these past three days and I realize that Thursday night when I fly to Iceland, my life will be incredibly lonely. Maybe I'll make a friend to explore Reykjavik with. Probably not.
I've found it incredibly difficult to be social with new people these days. Yesterday I had some amazing conversations with several old friends. The words flowed like normal. Today on the Charlie into Cambridge a girl saw my guitar case asked me if I was going to go play music in Harvard Square. I mumbled out several incoherent words. I didn't really understand what she had asked to begin with. Several instances while traveling alone on the plane, the train, and the subway have really ended in some degree of humiliation. I feel like a small child. And the East Coast is somewhat of a culture shock. People are different here than Los Angeles. Not worse, not better, but most certainly different. This is only a small taste of the weeks to come. I'll have to navigate through Reykjavik, London, Edinburgh, and find my way from Leuchars to St Andrews. What am I doing? I won't have a mobile, I won't have a car. I probably won't have much foreign currency. And when I get to St Andrews I still don't have a permanent place to live. I'll be in a hostel again. And I'm not just visiting St Andrews, I'm moving there, i.e. I'm packed to move. I've got a large suitcase, a briefcase, a large backpack, and a guitar case.
I trust that God will continue to guide and protect me. I'd love prayer for community and finances/housing. We'll see what the future holds. I'd love to update more frequently, but I've not had the opportunity to update with internet service. I don't know when I will next be able to communicate back home after Thursday.
Because I've had the option of running back to Bonnie or Alex since I've left LA I haven't really experienced the bitterness of a more thorough loneliness. I've only considered what that might look like. I really miss you, my friends. My best friend, Hannah, I wish I could take you with me. I'm thinking of and praying for many of you back home. You've made it really difficult to leave and for that I thank you.
I must say that my eventual homesickness will not be a product of regret. I know that I am a sincere friend and that I've tried earnestly to pour into my friendships at home. Much of the time I was left alone, the fish weren't biting, and it was very discouraging. But I can't say that I didn't try to develop very intentional and intimate relationships.