dude. eastern europe.

So, this whole bloggin' thing ain't so easy. For starters, I rarely have a free moment...which was not anticipated. Secondly, any time I have a free moment, I am trying to plan the next point in my journey. "Where am I going after Italy...I should probably figure that out" "Which city am I flying out of to get back to Dublin?" "Where am I staying tonight?" You get the picture. I am now presently on a train from Poland to Olomouc, Czech Republic to meet my lovely friend, Jaroslav. Jaroslav (Jari) is a heaven-send. He helped me get a free ride in a van out of Medjugorje (Bosnia) 1.5 years ago. He's got good connections down there--the lady who drove the van was the Czech translator of the messages given to the visionaries from the Mother of God. Does that make sense? My grammar has gotten worse--no offense, I call it Eastern Euro syndrome. Me English no speak.

Okay, my train just stopped. It's really not moving at all. And there is le grande silence in the cabins. Should I be freaked out? I go through this hesitation at least five times a day when I am in Eastern Europe. It's the no English thing--I NEVER, and I repeat, NEVER know what the hookah is goin' on. My trip has been nuts. I really wish I could divulge into more detail, but basically I've been staying with friends this entire trip, and I am pretty sure they wouldn't appreciate me intimating on my blog the details of our time together. HA, it would go something like this.."Then we ate ten sausages, and talked about old times...staring at a TV screen with X-Factor Poland in the background. Worst singers ever." But really, this trip was about people--I wanted to see and spend quality time with my Euro friends before I do my two year mission with FOCUS. I have to say that friends you make overseas are friends for life. There is a bond there that I cannot describe--it feels familial. For starters, to be on a different continent alone and to connect on a deep level with another soul not from your native soil is a unique experience. It makes you realize how we are all ONE.The more I travel, the more I see the common ground between cultures rather than the intricate differences.

Craig Lodge was amazing. I will speak about this...to an extent. :) Oh gee, I am getting all private now on a public blog. Well, it was so refreshing to return. Now, this is the 3rd time I've been to Craig Lodge since 2009. So, I've been 3 times in 4 years. I couldn't help but giggle on my train from Glasgow to Dalmally (Craig Lodge is in the village of Dalmally). I passed the wee hamlet of Tyndrum, and saw the petrol station--The Green Wellie. I remembered fondly how I hitched a free ride from an old lady from Tyndrum to Craig Lodge--a mere 15 miles apart. Connections and transportation is very limited in the Scottish Highlands--oh what the dickens? This train is really freakin' me. It's still not moving. And doors are slamming. God, what should I do? I always ask God this question when I travel. Here's the thing--when you travel--you can never have everything worked out ahead. But you can expect this: You will get lost...you will find yourself in the middle of nowhere...you will end up eating nothing but chicken liver pate and nuts. It's the rules of travel: it sucks sometimes. By the way, I totally ate chicken liver pate last night and sprinkled some peanuts on top--grossest meal ever, but I somehow knew Erika Hepburn would approve.

Dude, I hear shouting. I'm gonna go figure out what the dilly yo. Nah, I'm not. It's probably loud Italians or something. So, yeah...I loved Craig Lodge. It was for me like the first time I arrived in 2009. I felt the original peace that drew me to this remote oasis of peace, and I felt a sense of homecoming. I miss all the people there so much--it truly is a piece of Heaven on Earth. As I have mentioned before in my blog, it was very hard for me to live at Craig Lodge. Emotionally, physically, and spiritually, it was a heavy time for me. I felt crucified in a sense--I guess I felt lost and wholly not myself. There was a sadness inside of me that I could not shake. The future at that point in my life felt incredibly dark--I felt no sense of God or hope. But this last year has been so healing for me--living in Lincoln with my family. I've learned a lot about happiness and how God is always trying to restore us back to who we are supposed to be. The Lord has given me an adventurous heart--and in order to live with an adventurous heart we must be a people of hope. If we forsee doom in our paths, we will most surely find it. The disposition of our hearts plays a tremendous role in our lives. A grateful and thankful heart can take you far spiritually. My heart at Craig Lodge was afraid--it was doubtful, hopeless, and bruised. Life bruises...Oonaugh my dear friend from Craig Lodge told me that in life we will all acquire spots. These spots can stick with us if we let them--I sure let mine stick. But the key is to not let the spots stick--we must let things roll off us, as water rolls over rock. Are we not made to be rocks? "Build your house on solid foundation..." I can claim that it is not so easy to "just let things roll off"...it's a practice of discipline. These spots we acquire through life's heartaches can mar our true image. We start to lose who we are...we become clouded and bitter. "Why did that happen?!" All things happen for the glory of God--and God uses all things to make the world new again. The world shall indeed one day become a new Earth, and it can start now. He makes all things new--all the time. God is a God of creation--which means He RE-CREATES all the time. He doesn't want us to stand still--He calls us higher all the time. Ascend higher, my beloved! Life will try to ground you--it will de-press you into the ground if you let it. No, ascend higher. Follow the path of joy--as joy is a great indicator of the Lord's will!

So, again I am waiting on this lovely Polish train. I am about to go into the Czech Republic to stay with my friend Jari, as I mentioned, and we will go to some Moravian shrines in the countryside. After this, I head to Brno, the place of my ancestors and where I studied abroad 3 yrs ago, and will stay in a cottage with Anna and Petr. I hope to go to Racovice--which is where my great grandfather Tvrdy is from. There is something about reconnecting with your past. I've said this many times but it bears repeating: it is often necessary to go back to our roots to understand our identities. My ancestors were wine-growers, and they lived in a tiny, tiny village in Southern Moravia, which at the time was Austria. They were devout people--and they had large families. They were poor (on my dad's side) and carried the faith with them to America and cultivated it for many generations. I think the spreading of the faith down family trees is so beautiful--it is so difficult to keep faith YOURSELF but to spread it down several hundred years of bloodlines is a miracle. I worry for my generation...I can see the faith in Europe is getting darker by the minute. Many young people in Poland, a very Catholic country, are turning away from the "old faith" and turning towards materialism, secular culture, and the trends of the times. The churches here are gorgeous, and you can tell they've taken hundreds of years of sweat and blood to adorn and construct. I see them empty with a few old women hobbled over altar rails. To the young, they are nothing more than old tombs where the aged go and die. Little do they know that the real tomb is the world...all things pass and fade except God.

Yesterday (Monday) I visited the Divine Mercy Sanctuary in Krakow. I wanted to take this trip alone and really spend a good deal of time at the Shrine. Originally, I wanted to be there on Sunday, which is the Feast of Divine Mercy. This would been the BEST day to be there in the entire year as millions of pilgrims visit for this very feast. There would have been a huge celebration and it would have felt very appropriate to be at THE Divine Mercy Shrine on DIVINE MERCY SUNDAY. Sigh, but I came the day after. Wah-Wah. (But in all honesty, thank God I came the day after--I hate crowds!) . On top of coming the day after Divine Mercy Sunday, can I just add that I arrived at the Shrine at FOUR pm. Now if that ain't a Divine Mercy no-no than I don't know what is! Divine Mercy is all about the "Divine Mercy Hour" which is 3pm, the hour Christ died on the cross. During this hour, the Sanctuary will pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet, and I truly wanted to glimpse the nuns praying the chaplet. They extend theirs arm outward in the shape of the cross and I knew this sight would stir my soul. I was pretty grumpy by the time I got to the shrine. I got really lost in Krakow and was wandering around trying to find my Flamingo Hostel for about a half hour, and then couldn't find my tram stop to take me to shrine. Plus, I hadn't ate all day. It was rainy. You know, I got to say--a rainy day in Eastern Europe MAY make a top ten list of most depressing things ever. Ha, sorry but its true!

It was very empty by the time I got to the shrine--give or take a few locals. I was able to spend a lot of time burying my head on the glass box where St. Faustyna's relics are located. I prayed for everyone I know at this box--and I also prayed for the grace of child-like faith. I ended up staying for mass and sat in the front row between Polish old ladies. I kept my mouth shut the whole mass--for 2 reasons, 1) It was a Polish mass, and I don't know no Polski 2) I had cabbage pizza breath. Sick, I know. PS I totally broke my special grain free diet since I arrived in Poland. It's really impossible--I mean, seriously, they have bread stands on every corner. I was starving--I ate a kolache and cabbage pizza. The yeast had a feast. (LOL okay no one will get that statement unless they understand intestinal yeast issues, but i think its funny!)

After wandering around the shrine, I came to some conclusions: Jesus is truly everywhere. Yes, I LOVE to go to holy places--I schedule whole transcontinental trips around it...but often I find the Lord in the more unexpected places, rather than expected. Such as a ferry boat ride chatting with an Austrailian for 3 hrs...or in a city park watching children play. The Lord takes on many forms, and I am starting to see Him less in the obvious places (shrines) and more in the ordinary life.

My day was eventful fo' sho'. I stopped at the chapel one last time, and decided to sign the guest book for prayers. I took one last glimpse at the nuns praying inside the church and my mouth dropped--there were the Divine Mercy Sisters praying the chaplet with their arms extended in the shape of the cross. It was 7pm. ( They usually do this at 3pm) I was shocked! I fell to my knees in the middle of the doorway and prayed with them in the same fashion, and felt so cool, man. Next thing I know, I got a grumpy Polish security guard (yes, the shrine has security "policija") yelling at me to stand up and he tried to scurry me back in the church. I just laughed and said something like "Oopsies!" and left the shrine. He tried to push me back in the church, but I knew I had to run to get to my tram. Plus it was dark, and I was thinking it's probzz NOT a good idea to walk around a foreign city at night by me-self. God's timing is perfect-- my tram which takes many minutes to wait for, was departing RIGHT when I ran up. Hallelujah! But, then, I ended up getting lost on the way back to my hostel because my heavenly tram did NOT announce the stops, so I had no clue where to get off. I ended up wandering around and admiring the beautiful buildings in a touristy bit of town *aka safe parts*...Krakow really is magical--a bit like Vienna and Prague. But, in all truth, give me a country meadow anyday over a city. Cities are all the same to me and they always make you feel deficient in something.

So, enough of my yakkin' i got to get my backpack together before i get off this train. Oh man, taking a school bag around Europe with me for 7 weeks has been interesting. I did not come prepared. Luckily, I was donated a scarf in Glasgow...it's been a lifesaver in terms of warmth. Also my shoes--oh Heavens, I bought them at a thrift store in Lincoln, and they have holes in them. They started to break apart in the inside and I had pieces of cardboard in my shoe. I should really invest in new shoes...but probably won't. Gives me a more rustic look!

Nashledanou!