Adventure Week Three

Welcome to my adventure week with Andy.

You don’t know him?

He’s none other than Mr. Melanie.

He’s the INTP to balance this INFJ. He’s the Sanders fan with the bumper sticker on his van.

Wait. There are no vans in this household. And I’m the rhymer, not him.

(You have been keeping up with these adventures, haven’t you?)

Andy took me around the world this week. No layovers anywhere and we never stopped for gas.

We traveled through food and story.

Thailand. Lebanon. India. Romania.

Don’t envy me. This kind of week is rare. We felt a bit self conscious ourselves. We even stopped doing Facebook check-ins.

If you’re local, though, you should know these good eats:

Mai Thai


2 Gingers

Not local?

Small town?

No great foreign eats?

No problem.

You should go like your television station etv and find CHUCK NORRIS vs COMMUNISM.

This documentary is how Andy took me to 1980s Communist ruled Romania this week and I marveled at the power of story.

Through bootleg copies of dubbed vhs tapes, sequestered people were experiencing western fashion and automobiles.

They were also experiencing adventure, heroes, and hope.

I love story.

Good story.

Good storytelling.

Stories are for sharing.

In my sweet bible study this past Wednesday, I joined a parlor full of women who attempted to immerse themselves in the story of Abraham’s call.

A word was repeated over and over Wednesday morning in our discussion. The word was reminiscent of Romanian video nights and their effects.

That word?


What stories of the one Creator God had Abraham heard over and over throughout his first 75 years? What gave him inspiration to obey? What moves a man to such life upheaval action?

In CHUCK NORRIS vs COMMUNISM, translator Irina is reprimanded harshly for dubbing Jesus of Nazareth. It seems even political leaders are fearful of true stories. If fantasy can mobilize; what might reality do?

Most Sunday mornings you will find me with little people who love a story. And I am sure to remind them that the story for the day is not a pretend story, but a real story. It is with fear and trembling that we story tellers attempt the real stories, knowing that our telling should not be flat. Our telling should somehow embody the drama that was all too real.

Tomorrow I hope to step into the waters of the Jordan and look into the heavens. I hope to imagine the voice of the Creator and see a dove fly.

Why? Because though not in Communist Romania, we, too, live in a sequestered world. And a glimpse of the other side is sure to bring HOPE.

And an example of powerful love compels one to play at being GOOD.

And a shared communion meal takes us to a different realm for just a moment.

This week I adventured with movies.


Tomorrow I’ll adventure with truth.


PS: Last night my man and Miss Christy took me to MARS 🙂