Been Through the Desert on a Horse with No Name...

Life is not easy. The world in which we live is a difficult place filled with countless daily challenges. These things I know. Sometimes it takes spending some time away from "the world" to realize just how difficult and how sinful our fallen world really is. I am sitting here on a breezy Saturday afternoon looking out the kitchen window, thinking about all of the things I "should" be doing. However, writing this blog is what I believe the most necessary thing for me to be doing right at this moment. I need to write this post not just because it is the third time since the begining of Lent that I have started it, and not just because people have been telling me that they are tired of waiting for another one, but because I need to process all of the feelings, thoughts and opinions about the past few weeks which have spent too much time swimming around in my subconscious waiting to find a home and a purpose in my life.

As many of you know, I was blessed with the opportunity to spend my Spring Break in Arizona, where I visited St. Anthony's Greek Orthodox Monastery. The weeks leading up to this trip were difficult to say the least. Clean Week started out fine, I had been looking forward to the fasting and all of the beautiful services associated with the first week of Lent. The second and third weeks however, presented many challenges. I was staying up late every night to write a grant and getting behind on my classroom grading. This was followed by a week of teaching while trying to write report cards on top of five days of sickness in which I still taught while feeling horrible. The purpose of explaining all of this is not for pity, (because we all have lives filled with challenges and mine I'm sure are nothing compared to others) but to set you up for understanding how much-needed my trip was. By the start of the week before my trip, on Monday, March 20th, I didn't know how I could make through one more week at work.

My worries and struggles at work were not the only things that were weighing on me. A few weeks before Lent some things were brought to my attention that were really hard to swallow. I used to believe that I knew things like when, where, and why I sin. Sin, I know, is a conscious turning away from God. For the most part we know when we are doing something that is wrong, hurtful, or dishonest. For this reason I had always pondered the deeper meaning behind the words of the prayers that we say which include lines like "Forgive all the sins I have committed this day both in my humanity and inhumanity, in sins voluntary and involuntary, known and unknown, from my youth, from evil suggestions, haste and despondency." What, I asked, where these involuntary and unknown sins? Prayers like these used to comfort me because I felt like they were like a blanket covering all of these which I didn't know I had committed.

It was these unknown sins which were brought to my attention just before Lent. These sins were things that I do (and don't do) in word, action, deed, and my body language which hurt others. Examples of these are simple and seemingly benign like, not smiling or saying hi to people when I see them, being terse in conversation, or chosing to speak only to my small group of friends. I'll admit that my immediate reaction to this information was defensive. What did they mean I don't smile? I say hi to people, I try to talk to people I don't know...right? But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this person was right. I tried to make excuses to myself, "I am just a hard person to get to know, I am shy, insecure, not good at small talk" etc.

When it came down to it, at the root of these unknown sins was pride. According to St. Isaac the Syrian pride is (among other things,) "the glory of power, the urge to adorn oneself and be liked; craving for praise; and the concern and anxiety for physical well-being." He states that "All these are of the world; they combine deceitfully to hold us in heavy bonds." There is simply no excuse for not smiling at someone when I see them or not making an effort to talk to people that I don't know very well. If I were truly seeking God, I would be striving for humility in all areas of my life. I would recognize God in every person that I come into contact with and treat them just like I would when seeing someone that I love.

So throughout Lent, in addition to my normal everyday struggles at work, I was wrestling with the fact that I am terribly prideful person and I was trying to work on being more aware of how I treat others in every aspect of my life, including my students in my classroom, co-workers, family, roomates, friends, and church family. The problem was, the more I tried, the more I realized how serious of a problem this really is. Everywhere I turned I was faced with an opportunity to humble myself. It literally overwhelmed me and made me feel like the best thing to do was just to separate myself completely from the people I was closest to. This kind of happened naturally as there weren't very many weekday services in the week before I left and then once I left for my trip I had a week of being away to reflect and regroup.

Needless to say, the trip was absolutely amazing. We left on Saturday right after the Annuciation service. We drove straight from Portland all the way to Fresno, California in one dose. It was a long and arduous drive down the I-5 "slab" as my dad refers to it. We got to our hotel at 2am where we were greeted not so friendily by Monte, the night desk clerk at the Marriot by the Airport in Fresno. We stayed in room 333 which we found to be a perfect number for us, the Trinity, 3 times. Exhausted, we fell into our fluffy king sized bed for a five hour rest.

Later that morning we got up at 7:30 at drove to Dunlap, CA, where we attended Divine Liturgy at the Monastery of the Theotokos of the Life Giving Spring. It was unlike any monastery that I had been to in America, built in traditional Byzantine style architecture, reminding me of the monasteries that I visited while in Greece. I was unbelievably tired having driven the last shift the night before, but once I stepped foot inside the church, all fatigue was lost and I felt myself completely immersed in the service. The nuns’ chanting was amazing, back and forth between the two wings of the chapel in traditional antiphon style. The place where we were standing in the back of the church on the left side with the women was cool and dark, in stark contrast the whole of the church where the nuns were standing, which was lit with rays of sunshine, illuminating the angelic faces of the nuns huddled around the chanting stand. For the first time in a long time, I was truly focused on the service, undistracted by cares, concerns and worries of the world which I had left behind. It felt good.

After the service we ate lunch in the Trapeza with the nuns and fellow attendees. Then before we left we met Mother Markella, the abbess, and Father Michael, the new priest of the monastery from Chico. They were both very warm and friendly. Mother Markella gave us each an icon of the Theotokos of the Life Giving Spring and Father Michael, (whom Christy had met before on her trip to California last summer) invited us all to come back in the summer and stay longer. While we talked to Father, Mother Markella started to pull a few weeds which she had noticed in the area behind where we were standing. We asked Father to translate the words on the icon which Mother Markella had given us, he looked at the characters quizzically and started to sound them out phonetically. Then finally he said, "This is not Greek it is Russian! Where did you get this?" Right at that moment, Mother Markella popped up from behind a bush and said (with her thick Greek accent) "I gave it to them! It tis frum Russia!" This might be one of those had to be there kind of moments but the interaction between the two of them was priceless.

We got back on the road and drove to Phoenix that day, arriving at Annie Thrasher's house late at night. We spent the next two days relaxing with Annie. We went hiking, shopping, to church, to a major league spring training game, and spent time with her and her family. We had so much fun that it was difficult to say goodbye. However, it was time to embark for the true destination and purpose of our journey, St. Anthony's Monastery.

The drive from Phoenix to Florence was beautiful. It was mostly desert surrounded on every side by rolling mountains if you will. By "rolling mountains" I mean they are not real mountains like ones we have here in Oregon but low rolling things slightly higher than hills. In any case, they were "in the backdrop" as Christine Whitton would say. The sky was hazy and the scenery around the road was sprinkled with ginormous saguaro cacti. I was in cacti heaven and wishing that I wasn't driving so I could sit in the back seat and gaze at their size and awkward shapes. They were literally 40 feet tall! I had never seen such things in my life, I felt like a foreigner experiencing a store like Fred Meyers for the first time, overwhelmed and awe struck. (I promise to write a post just about my obsession with cacti soon so at to not waste any more time on the subject here.)

Believe it or not we made it to the monastery despite my cacti distractions just in time for the Great Compline service. Photographs cannot capture nor words describe what it was like to be at St. Anthony's. One must really experience it for themselves. The sanctuary of the main chapel was a lot like the one at the monastery we visited in Dunlap only more spacious and grand. Everything inside was exquisite, from the magnificent hand painted icons and gold chandelier to the elaborately designed marble floor, there was so much to look at, yet it all pointed towards God, reminding the visitor of His awesome power. I was overwhelmed throughout the service just by the fact that I was there, in a place where I had always wanted to go but never thought I would, at least not at this point in my life. I felt so blessed just to be there, listening the monks' chanting, breathing the insense, and praying silently to myself. Everything happenend so quickly and soon, we were outside on the patio in front of the church meeting people.

After finding our room we went on a tour of the spectacular gardens which wound their way throughout the monastery grounds, twisting and turning around countless chapels, churches, fountains and quiet resting areas. The monastery is truly an oasis in the desert, full of so many beautiful examples of God's creation. My favorite was the palm tree lined path which led to our guest house which passed by a church, a tower, and two fountains. It was kind of like being a swanky spa/resort but instead of pools, massages, and manicures for the body, there were services, prayer, and time for reflection to improve the health the soul.

Our tour came to a close just as the sun was about to set so we went on a "hike" just outside the monastery gates to this hill with a giant cross on it overlooking the monastery. We watched the sunset over the monastery. It was one of those sunsets where the sky opens up in just one spot allowing rays of light pour forth from the clouds. The light shone perfectly through the clouds illuminating the hills just behind the monastery giving the whole sky a hazy feel like incense lingering in the air just after a censing. It didn't look real to me. I just stood there, branding the scene into my mind until the yellow glow disappeared into the horizon. (By "just stood there" I mean I simultaneously took about 20 pictures while I could.)

We retired to bed at 9pm which is late for people living on monastery time. The liturgy started at 3am so we had to ensure that we had at least some rest beforehand. I thought I would be tired once 2:45 rolled around but when our alarm went off I found myself surprisingly well rested and anxious to attend service. Like I mentioned before, I am really having a hard time finding words to describe certain things and the feeling of being in this service is one of them. It was one of the most amazing services I have ever been to, if you are Orthodox, then you know that chances are, I have been to a lot of services in my day. But this was different. It was peaceful, I was incredibly focused and I felt an overwhelming sense of love. I don't understand how a place that is such a spiritual battlefield for the monastics can at the same time, be the place where I felt God's presence so strongly like I was wrapped in a blanket of His love. I have never before been so disappointed that a service had ended so quickly. It was a Pre-Sanctified Liturgy so it was only an hour and a half. I wanted to stay there all night in the darkness of the sanctuary listening to the chanting, and staring into the glowing faces of the candlelit icons.

Needless to say, it was hard to fall back asleep after such an experience. Eventually I did and I spent the next day walking around the gardens praying and reflecting on how many areas in my life in which I have room to grow. It was a perfect day. I did everything that cares of the world don't allow me to do like spend a lot of time in prayer, writing in my journal, reading, taking pictures, and just walking around literally smelling the well, they didn't have roses so I had to settle for these little white flowers they had. That evening we went to Great Compline and Liturgy at 3am. Sadly, we had to leave early in the morning, shortly after liturgy to begin our long trek back to Oregon.

Things I learned while at St. Anthony's:

1) The world is a difficult place wrought with temptations
2) I am weak
3) God is strong (loving, merciful, powerful, and BIG)
4) There is no such thing as too much prayer, especially for the weak
5) We are ALL weak
and lastly,
6) If you drive 1,300 miles to Arizona to see St. Anthony's, make sure you plan to stay longer than two days...

This post is drawing to a close at last. I tell my students that good writers often will end back at the beginning, tying everything together so that the reader feels a true sense of closure. So what can I say? Did my trip solve all my problems? No, unfortunately they were waiting for me when I got home. But I am changed, I am humbled, and I am thankful. I am thankful for the blessing to go on this trip; for the opportunity to grow closer to my fellow trip mates Christy and Catherine, and finally, to have had time away to recognize the many ways that I can be a better daughter, sister, friend, teacher, and loving person to all of God's people.

Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me a sinner.