Preface....
During my time in Florence, I often wanted to write something, but I do not like to write about nothing.. Though we do partner with Florence Gospel Fellowship while we are in Florence, it feels more like a vacation than a mission. The bottom line for me is that it is actually cheaper for me to stay in Florence with Dennis and Karen Quick than it is to fly home and then turn around and fly back. I do enjoy staying in Florence, but I do not want to update everyone about missions telling them I went and spent an afternoon by the pool with a friend, or enjoyed a glass of wine overlooking one of the main tourist destinations in Europe. I had a relaxing time in florence, participated in church activity, but now its back to full throttle working the festival... This is what I have accumulated typing over the last month or so.
August 8
My days have been very nice. I have always enjoyed staying with the Quicks while in Italy. I usually wake up around 7 in the morning. The shutters to my window are typically closed, however, the light burst in around the cracks providing enough illumination to open your eyes. The bells usually begin around that time. God gently wakes me up and tells me to relax; just lay there for a while and be still, listen to the birds, and the bells. Think about me for just a little while.
The temperature outside is cool in the morning. If you want to take advantage of it, you have to move quickly before the air that sits in the valley of the city begins to heat up. There are large shutters that hide the morning light in the dining room. As I walk in, I love to open the doors that reach from the ceiling to the floor; large hand crafted doors that were custom made specifically for this opening. I think about how they were designed only for this opening. They had a specific purpose when the craftsman began to formulate a plan in his head. There were requirements that they would have to meet, ways they would need to function, and needs that they had to fill. They have features that I have never seen on any other door; designed only for this doorway. Many times I have had a feeling where I don’t have a specific purpose, yet I don’t think that is true. I can serve in many ways. God has a very specific purpose for my life, just like this door. There are requirements God has for me. There are special ways that I was designed to function. There are needs that only I can meet. God knew these things, he is the craftsman that saw the opening and formulated a design, shaped me to fit the opening - just like this door.
..I open the doors and let the cool air pour into the room and it is remarkably refreshing.
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| Micah and his cold hard cash. |
The other day I decided I wanted to go for a walk. I thought I would ask Micah (Dennis and Karen’s son) to come with me. I have never really gone on a walk with him, but I figured he might want to get outside. As he walks he thinks about ideas for his comic books which he likes to draw. As I watch him I can see him shape ideas. I can see the expressions on his face as he acts out scenes from his vast imagination. His hands clench, and he looks down at the immense sword that he is now holding in his hand; an epic stand-off is now taking place. He gets excited about his idea and suddenly turns around to come and explain it to whomever is willing to listen. There is something refreshing about Micah. He gets excited like a small child when he finds change on the street as he walks.
We were walking as he called out to me to point to a crumpled up 5 Euro bill that was sitting on the ground. He stood over it with one hand in a fist and the other hand pointed directly at the bill as he began to crouch closer and closer; concentrating on the bill with a big smile on his face. He is a child in a man’s body. As we walked on from there I tried to get him to talk about what he wanted to use it for, “Micah, what are you going to do with all that cash you just found? You are rich!” He would think about it for a few moments as we walked and reply by telling me that he wanted to save it. 5 Euro is quite a bit more than he has picked up before. He is used to the 5 or 10 euro cent coins. We eventually went into an art store where he decided to purchase a 4 euro sketchbook. Micah’s world is loving his family, eating, and immersing himself in his imagination. When he eats, he prays for his little dog Moses, his father, and to keep everyone safe and healthy. God has a special place for people like Micah.
August 14
Dennis and Karen had an opportunity to say goodbye to one of our good friends in who lives near Naples. Andrea Mazza is a young man who has been coming every year to attend our camp. He has been in love with the same girl since we met him and has wanted to marry her for a long time. Just the same as many young people in Italy, looking for a job offered up little result. He has had several jobs offering minimum wages and little consistency. Some time ago, he looked into joining the Italian Air Force and discovered that he was a perfect applicant. The time has drawn closer and closer until now he stands weeks before he will spend the next years of his life serving his country. He is going to leave his friends, family, and the girl that he hopes to marry in hopes of making some money to provide.
August 27
There are few days remaining for me in Florence before we make the trip down to Naples for the Festival. The Festival will be the finishing touch on my summer of serving God in other countries, and then its back home to join in on the work that God is doing there. Florence has been good this year, but as usual there has been a sense in my head that I am too relaxed here. The pasta, the weather, and the extensive history of this place makes this a very easy place to pass time. Though we have been involved with the Florence Gospel Fellowship here, it seems having an impact on the people here is not God’s priority for us. The old city is a tourist destination. There is no hardship here, no need in people’s lives for Christ; there is only the desire to relax in vacation and see old buildings with famous art. They are here for a day or two, then gone; onto the next destination. The stationary population of Florence is outside the walls of the old city, where the people are experiencing a more real hardship and strain. The ancient city of Florence is a pocket which has been somewhat isolated from the failing Italian economy due to the income of tourism. The Florentines have discovered their cash crop. I interact with the few people left from the student and resident population on a weekly basis, for church, movie nights, and random get togethers. It is nice to be able to encourage them, but more than the locals, we have catered to our friends from the south. We have hosted several people from Naples and given them a short break from their struggles. Many southern Italians have never even seen Florence which always makes it fun to host them.
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| Mena and Pasquale came up to visit from Naples |
I can’t count the number of times God has made me think of home. Not that it is a longing to be home, but a reminder of the things that make home wonderful. I see things even in florence that make me think about moments with family and friends back home. I saw a man riding a bicycle today that made me think about my friend Neal and the fun that I have had riding bikes with him. When I walk around the city and see some of the roses I think about my Uncle Mark and how he keeps the roses that grace the inviting space of their back yard. I see other places that make me think of Uganda, places that take me back to my home town of Gold Beach, and places that take me right into trying to imagine what heaven looks like. There is not a day when I don’t think about the people that I love, but learning to just relax is actually a little difficult for me. Perhaps I wont feel completely relaxed until I am in my real home with Jesus.
September 5
Naples.
Life inside a Van.
We wind to an abrupt stop. The gutters are lined with garbage, old cars, and pigeons. A scooter has just stuck its front tire too far into the road after trying to enter the roadway being hidden by a parked delivery truck. The honking and hand gestures begin. Just down the road you can see beautiful canopies sheltering customers from the scorching mediterranean sun while they relax for a moment to talk with each other over some Napolitano Cafe. They don't even flinch with the commotion caused by the scooter. It is just another day for the busy city.
I am deceived by the cool interior of the van as I gaze out the window, looking at two pocket sized cars that have been nestled into their parking places. Their bumpers kiss as they wait patiently; frozen until their keys set them free. People walk by wearing their tight designer pants and contour forming shirts; arm in arm. Empty water bottles and fragments of plastic wrapping blow aimlessly across the street. The garbage accumulates at the street corners where the people wait eagerly for the trucks to come and remove it. The van begins to move.
The sound of the cobble stone street against the tires gets louder and begins to drown out the sound chatting inside the van. The back seat in Naples is not a hospitable place to carry a conversation. The unpredictable turns and curves force me to lean left and right. Each street looks stunning and almost exactly like the street I just saw before we last turned. Beautiful clothing lines stretched across the road over head. The buildings are aged and crumbling.
I learned something the other day that I found quite interesting. When you walk by some of the buildings of these narrow streets in Arzano, you may find yourself wondering, “why dont they take pride in where they live?” The buildings are old and worn. The aged bricks are exposed to the weather, the paint that once made the plaster surfaces vibrant is faded and peeling, and the plaster itself has crumbled and fallen off the buildings over the years. The window shutters are broken and crooked; the paint peeling off of those as well. The inside of the homes, however, are beautiful and immaculate. Occasionally you get a glimpse through a window on the street level and see the poster child of cleanliness almost every time. Why do they not take care of the outside of their homes? The taxes imposed on people for their equity is measured by the condition of the exterior of their building, so why bother with it if you can still keep a clean home?
We have made a few trips to the Villa in which we are holding the event. Our first trip revealed the condition of the Villa in its un-manicured and somewhat neglected state. The fountain was off and the water was green and stagnant. The hedges are all overgrown with pine needles penetrating nearly every thinkable space. The drains are all filled with standing water; making perfect breeding grounds for mosquitoes. I sat on a park bench there when I felt a bite on my ankle. I looked down to see not one but six mosquitoes on the same ankle sucking the life out of me. I slapped them and ended up smearing bloody mosquito all over my legs. I looked around to see where they might be coming from. To my dis-satisfaction, they were coming from the drain. It looked like a super-highway of mosquitoes constantly flowing in and out..
Our next trip to the Villa the following day we were welcomed by a spouting fountain into crystal clear waters. The bottom of the fountain needed a little scrub. I wanted to jump in with a scrub brush and get some work done.. We setup all of our booths, each person on the team working in their assigned booths; making sure that everything is ready to go.
I think one thing which stands out to me about the people in the south is authenticity. In Florence, the people are used to dealing with tourists all day. They are typically more inconvieninced and short tempered when dealing with people that wander into their stores. I know that when they learn that I am American the response is mixed, but mostly, it comes across to me either as an “...great. are you going to buy anything or not?” or “American? ...one of those.” Everyone that I get to interact with in Naples is excited to meet someone from America. Tourists don’t go to Naples. Foreigners are a novelty. Everyone wants to know you, and talk to you. When they hear that you are doing work for their city, they wont let you pay for things.
I was with Brian Heerwagon the other day when we went into a store along a very busy and narrow street. As we stood there and spoke to him, one of his workers was slicing Buffalo Mozzarella and placing them into containers. The shop owner walked over to the counter, and handed the containers to us with plastic forks. We happily obliged and ate the mozzarella (Which is better than any mozzarella I have ever had) and tried to pay for it when he gave us a look like it was an insult. The people here are so real, and so relational, it is very easy to fall in love with them.
