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Trip Preparation

 Next week I will ride to the Atlanta airport, get on a plane about 2:00, stay on that plane for close to 12 hours, and land in Istanbul, Turkey. I will be with eight or nine others from the church I attend to visit the ancient city of Constantinople, Cappadocia, and the sites of the seven churches in Revelation. 

A major event in my life. My seventh trip to "Europe" (Turkey is technically not Europe, but in NATO). 

Do I have trepidation? A bit. I will stay close to my group and never stray. I do not plan to be adventurous in a place where I will stick out for my coloring, size, and clothing (despite keeping that last one as muted as possible). I will be a quiet, unopinionated, but friendly and open visitor to a place with a difficult history. Turkey, however, according to Wikipedia, is the fourth most visited country in the world (fifth or sixth on other lists), so they depend on us tourists. They are modern and their economy is fairly healthy. 

(Not to sure about ours, considering the job numbers and 10 percent unemployment among 18-24 year olds.)

Our tour leaders are preparing us with weekly meetings and lots of advice, as well as taking care of the tickets, insurance, etc. It is nice to be a traveler rather than a leader, which I did four times in Europe and swore never to do again. I walked five miles the other day (and felt the consequences) and am trying to get my digestive system evened out. I know when I get back my jet lag will last for weeks; it did the last time I came back from Europe. 

I am most interested in Istanbul and Ephesus. We know we will walk in Paul's, John's, Timothy's, and Mary's footsteps there, as well as others, in Ephesus. We will see the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul. 

Every such trip could be one's last. I will let God control that. For now, I am trying to prepare my soul and body for this trek.

In doing so, I ponder the letter to the church at Ephesus. "Nevertheless, you have left your first love." First in priority, not time, I am pretty sure this "first" refers to. 

Those words haunt me because I am not sure how much I love God. There is an phrase from Augustine, "I came to love you late," and I feel it is true of me. He expresses it in visceral, intense language:

I came to love you too late, Oh Beauty, so ancient and so new. Yes, I came to love you too late. What did I know? You were inside me, and I was out of my body and mind, looking for you. I drove like an ugly madman against the beautiful things and beings you made. You were in fact inside me, but I was not inside you. Those same things kept me at some distance from you, even though those things, had they not been inside you, would not have existed at all. You called to me and cried to me; you broke the bowl of my deafness; you uncovered your beams, and threw them at me; you rejected my blindness; you blew a fragrant wind on me, and I sucked in my breath and wanted you; I tasted you and now I want you as I want food and water; you touched me, and I have been burning ever since to have your peace.


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