Sips of Time

Right now I am sitting in the backseat of the AXIS van, sipping on the remainder of my strawberry limeade slush. My iPod plays Lifehouse in my ears. And we break / And we burn / And we turn it inside out / To take it back / To the start / And through the rise and falling apart / We discover who we are... (Song titled “Who We Are”). I watch the horizontal landscape pass by my window in fast forward, the fields and clouds blending together to create a blurred backdrop for my return to Colorado Springs. My mind likens the swift scene to the passing of time. I look back on my few decades of life and wonder where the days went. People often describe the years prior as “time slipping by,” as if there can be no control over how the minutes of each day are spent. To a certain extent this is true—the clock ticks forward without anyone’s permission—though I believe there is a way to exert authority over the moments that befall us.

How about not letting time slip by, but taking sips of that time instead?

It has occurred to me that rarely do we take responsibility for how we spend the precious moments that are allotted us. We feel as if we are slaves to the minute and second hands, the regulator between our first and final breaths. If we consider time as a liquid being shoved down our throats, the outcome is our constant disgust and our fight against it. If we instead consider time as a drink to enjoy sip by sip, we savor every flavor, every distinct ingredient that it contains. What if time is not a bird which flies away, constantly escaping our grasp, but a fluid which can be looked forward to enjoying—a delicate, delicious, delightful thing that we choose to take pleasure in by the sip? That perspective might change our attitudes. In fact, it might change our lives. If time is something that cannot be avoided, why wrestle it when you can commune with it? Why is time our enemy and not our friend? It seems to me that if time is a constant, our behavior towards it is completely within our control and our attitude towards it dictates our displeasure or content. Sip the time, my friend, and savor every passing moment, for it is indeed passing. And why waste the delicacies that are before you?

By: Heather¹

Notes

1. This was Heather's first trip with AXiS. Heather is currently a student at the Focus Leadership Institute (FLI) and will be going back to finish up her schooling at Evangel Universityin Springfield, MO. Every semester, several FLI students are able to be interns with AXiS and travel all around the country with us ministering to students.

Louisiana: A Culture All It's Own

Growing up in New Mexico, I have experienced a different culture. I only recently discovered this after fully introducing the Axis team to New Mexico during our first trip this semester. Below, I have listed a few of the experiences I was able to share.

New Mexico is the only state where you are always asked "red, green or christmas" at every restaurant (these are for Chile Pepper variations). My Christmas (the holiday) decorations include a yard of sand and 200 paper bags. I eat tortillas instead of bread. A lawn is not necessary when I can use crushed rock and a cactus. A dust devil can roll your trampoline down the street, yet leave the rest of the neighborhood unscathed. Spanglish is an actual language. Tumbleweed-men are made during the winter because there is no snow. The Roadrunner is our state bird and the Yucca is our state plant. Every potluck includes Enchiladas, Posole, and Biscochitos. Prevalent animal life includes Tarantulas, Scorpions, Centipedes, Black Widows, Child of the Earth Bugs, Rattlesnakes, and of course the occasional Jack Rabbit or Quail.

Upon leaving New Mexico, I thought I would not experience culture shock to the extent that the team had.... that was until I visited Louisiana.

Our first night in town, the AXiS team met up with Jon Jon, a Floridian and our newest AXiS staff member; we had an incredible down home meal cooked by none other than Miss Eloise, and we cheered on the 2A Houma Christian School varsity volleyball team as they shut-out a 5A team. Starting with that first evening, I began to experience this unique culture of the South:

Boudin - deep fried pork with rice in pork casings. While in Houston, I was asked if I had ever tried this southern favorite. Upon our first meal out in Louisiana, I ordered it (not too bad).

Jambalaya - a cajun dish made of rice, seafood, chicken, vegetables, etc. This turned out to a common dish, as we had it multiple times (my favorite!)

Gumbo - a creole stew, made with tomatoes, okra, and other vegetables and meats, including shrimp and chicken.

Bayou - a body of water usually a slow-moving river or stagnant channel. Many times, I found it difficult to differentiate between the bayous and the lawns of some homes.

The French Quarter - We couldn’t see New Orleans without taking a stroll through this Mississippi port.

Cafe du Monde - A very popular cafe in New Orleans that served up their very own brand of coffee and fried pastry. This cafe came complete with live jazz music.

Chicory - the coffee made at cafe du monde. It is made with the root of the endive plant. It is roasted and then ground to be added to the coffee. (really good).

Beignet - a fried pastry covered with a thick layer of powdered sugar (a perfect compliment to the chicory)

Nutria - “Rodents of unusual size? I don’t think they exist” - try again! One night, as we drove back to our host home, we saw what looked like an ROUS; and that is exactly what it was. It was an animal that looks similar to a beaver, but is actually a rat....a large water rat. (see the title picture to find out what a Nutria looks like).

I guess there is more culture in our country than I ever gave credit. With that said, if you want some unique American culture, go to New Mexico or Louisiana!

By: Meghan

The All-Singing, All-Dancing Passion of the Christ - Part 6

I started off this series (five posts ago and about five months ago!) by stating that I had learned a lot of bad theology by listening to sermons as a kid. Whether or not they were doctrinally correct, these dull-as-ditchwater Sunday morning episodes had me thinking that Jesus (and His Father) were about as lively and exciting as a Pez dispenser. On a good day.

When I was young, I admired church plays for their truth-telling about a Savior who was somehow mysteriously at once glorious God incarnate and humble carpenter. Although I couldn't understand it conceptually, I could understand it experientially. I experienced the energy and excitement simply by watching an actor play Jesus on stage. I felt as if I understood everything for the first time. I was caught up in a big adventure. Actually, it was the right size. It fit. It was much much bigger than me, yet not bigger than life itself. It was what I wanted life to be about.

I was excited about an enormous Passion play at my church this year. But something went wrong. The Gospel Story was hyped up with flying acrobats, flashing lights, and hollywood special effects. I felt like I was watching the latest Peter Jackson flick. Ordinary humans don't fit in that kind of epic. (By ordinary, I mean you and me, people who hope that qualifying as a disciple doesn't include looking like a J-crew model, or frolicking gracefully from one divine appointment to the next on a bright and perky CCM score.) That just doesn't fit with the way life is. Or the way I want it to be. Ordinary humans don't fit in the Iliad.

It is true that we serve a big God. Much bigger than we can imagine. His story is an epic -- in its own way. It is unique. It is unlike any other story that humans could invent. And this is the amazing part: It is for us. Whether or not we want to accept the frightening honor, God has written us into the Greatest Story Ever Told. That really is Epic.

Thanks for reading for the last five months!

Click here to read the previous post in this series.

By: Chad