My time in New Zealand is drawing to a close.  Four months have flown by and I find myself typing this with two weeks left in the land of the long white cloud.  I’ve learned a lot here, but I had a particular realization last weekend about something New Zealand has particularly brought out in me: the challenge zone.

Last weekend I went on a whitewater kayaking trip led by a friend and co-worker from Camp Adair.  A bunch of us staff travelled south to a place called Taupo, home of New Zealand’s largest lake and an area loaded with outdoor adventure.  We arrived Friday night after work and hit the river Saturday morning for a bit of basic skills instruction from the veteran kayakers with us.  I’ve never been on whitewater in a kayak, so I found it quite challenging.  It’s not a skillset you get overnight!  We had great teachers and conditions, though, so it went as well as we could have hoped.  After lots of practice entering and exiting eddy’s (calm parts of the river), flipping my kayak over lots, a quick stop for a cliff jump, and sitting in some natural hot springs, day one was complete.  Day two was when things got real.

Full James: a stretch of the Waikato River with continuous Class 2 rapids.  Nothing super major, but for a newbie like me it was intimidating.  It was going to be, as a friend described it, baptism by fire.  I was nervous the night before.  Thoughts raced through my head of how many things could go wrong while inside of a boat that is being carried by a force stronger than anything I’ve experienced.  I’ll see what it’s like and decide then, I told myself.  No one’s forcing me to do it.  Maybe I’ll sit it out and be safe.  I was deciding whether or not to take a risk.  But then I thought of how every day at work I talk to groups of students about challenging themselves.  “Push your limits,” I say.  “Get outside your comfort zone.  Wherever that is, is up to you.  That’s what these activities are all about.”  Now it was my turn.

No lie, I was a little scared to get in that kayak and paddle down those rapids.  But the age old phrase, “Practice what you preach,” came to mind and I couldn’t ignore it.  So by 11am Sunday morning I found myself in a boat, heading downstream in a current I could never escape.  As usual, most of the fear was in my head.  Once I was in the moment it wasn’t so bad.  So much of gaining the victory depends on taking the first step!  We got to the first rapid and I missed the first eddy along with two other friends.  We paddled hard to avoid going down the rapid before we were ready but to no avail.  We knocked into each other and I found myself going down the rapid backwards without a paddle after helping rescue a friend that had tipped.  Not off to a good start!  But somehow I felt okay, confident that despite the risks everything was going to be fine.  An hour and two rapid sections later we all arrived at the end of the days paddle.  The finale, Full James itself finished us off with a bang and we called it a day.

A week later I think back on that experience and am so thankful I stepped out of my comfort zone.  It stretched me, gave me an experience that I’ll never forget, and I have increased confidence (and some new skills) as a result.  New Zealand has put me in my challenge zone more consistently, either relationally or practically, than most places I’ve lived.  In recent months I’ve started thinking about action before taking it more than usual, considering more factors, and in turn being more hesitant to do things.  I reckon it’s part of growing older, getting hurt more, feeling the effects of engaging in the many demanding activities I enjoy.  So I now find myself at a point in life where I wonder, am I going to stop taking risk as I get older and older?  Am I going to let myself turn into a person who plays it safe, seeking the comfort and security of home and hearth over the risk and reward of the wild?  Will I try to stay within my boundaries instead of pushing and expanding them?  Is it better to stay healthy at home than get hurt in the mountains?  These are my questions, and New Zealand’s places and people have brought them out.

I know what I want my answer to be: I want to take risk.  I do not want to rely on the comfortable, safe place to keep me.  Rather, I want to trust in the One who sustains me regardless of my possessions and position on Earth.  Taking risks when you’re fully aware of them is more powerful than when you’re ignorant.  And so, in the end, taking risk and adventuring beyond my limits in this present and coming season is more important than ever.  I’m not talking about doing dangerous or obviously reckless things; I’m talking about stepping out of my comfort zone intentionally in wisdom and discretion in order to not drift with the waves of society, but instead to be the unique individual I am created to be.  The prospect scares me for sure, but the choice is clear.  The smooth, level road looks nice, but the rocky, uphill path is the one for me.  Rain or shine, I hope that’s where we’ll meet.

 

The world is not in your books or maps.  It’s out there, waiting for you…

The morning of December 29 was beautiful.  I exited the tent, taking care not to wake the others as I unzipped the door and crawled out.  This was one situation where being tall was not an advantage!  I looked out across the camp ground and was greeted with a gorgeous sight: still quiet tents and vans, tranquil Lake Wakatipu, The Remarkables mountain range rising on the far shore, and blue skies above.  The sun hadn’t come up yet, allowing mists to linger throughout it all.  This was the reward of rising early, and it was more than enough for me!  I had a cup of coffee, took it all in, and then explored the nearby river delta, (nerd alert!) site of the scene in The Two Towers where the Ithilien Rangers ambush the Haradrim passing through and capture Sam and Frodo.  Again, so cool to be there in person!

Not much later, we drove into Queenstown and met up with some good family friends of mine, the Finches.  We met the three kids in the family (close in age to me) for breakfast and explored the city center after, interested to see what Queenstown consisted of.  It was a true destination town, full of shops, cafes, and tour guides.  It’s location, vibe, and size (it’s not very big) all combine to make it one of the top travel spots in the world, and it showed.  It is certainly worth a visit, though we didn’t want to stay for too long.  We soon were back on the road, intent on reaching our next stop in good time.  A couple hours north of Queenstown there is a viewpoint called Roy’s Peak.  The hike is a 3 mile uphill trek to a stunning panorama of Lake Wanaka and the surrounding area.  It’s probably the most photographed spot in New Zealand and we understood why when we reached the top a few hours later.  We sat and soaked it in for about an hour before returning to the parking lot.  It was about dark when we got to the car, legs and feet tired from the steep trail.  It was a good feeling to have our adventuring for the day done…or so we thought!

The camp ground we had planned on staying at that night was full upon arriving, so we initiated Plan B: continue driving down the highway to the next available camp ground we could find.  Maybe 30 minutes away?  If only!  At 12:30am we finally gave up and pulled in to a roadside rest area, sleeping right next to the highway.  Not the best end to the day, so we were happy to be on our way come sunrise.  By early afternoon we were in Aoraki/Mt Cook National Park, home of the tallest mountain in New Zealand.  It was an impressive sight from a distance, but it was nothing short of incredible up close.  We did the Hooker Valley trail, a 1.5 mile valley walk to the base of Hooker Glacier and the lake at its feet.  There we sat, gazing at the enormity and sheer daring of the slopes and peak of Aoraki.  Truly, I have never seen such a mountain.  It was a fierce and inspiring sight to behold.  As so often happened during our journey, we hat to tear ourselves away, knowing that no amount of time was long enough for the sight, but finding appreciation for what we were given.  Burgers and good conversation saw us to bed, but there was not to be much sleep this night!

I awoke to the walls of our tent nearly in my face.  That’s not good, I thought.  A strong gust of wind had come up and the poles of our cheap Warehouse (NZ version of Walmart) tent plainly showed their quality.  The gust died down, only to come back 30 seconds later.  I found myself bracing the poles as best I could, fearing they would snap any second.  I looked at my watch: 2am!  Oh this is going to be fun…the gusts did not let me go back to sleep.  I’m not sure if my 4.5 hours of bracing did anything, but the poles survived somehow, and so did we.  We left mighty Mt. Aoraki/Cook in our rear view mirror early that morning.  With rain on our windshield we sped northeast, sad to be leaving but happy to be out of the storm.  I was particularly excited this day, for we were going to visit Mt Sunday, site of Edoras in Lord of the Rings.  After driving 45 minutes on dirt roads we arrived.  There it was: a butte, courageously standing in the middle of a huge valley, subject to a constant wind more powerful than any I’ve felt in my life.  I’ve seen that very spot in the films countless times, but I was once again reminded that there’s no substitute for personal experience.  We walked closer and although they removed the set post-filming, I could see in my minds eye the Golden Hall of King Théoden, the walls of the city surrounding, characters from the story astride their steeds of valor.  Upon reaching the top my inner child absolutely came alive (just ask Kailey and Em).  My imagination was sparked, transported to another world as I ran from point to point along the top of the butte.  I heard the music, smelled the wind, tasted the reality of myth and legend.  It’s real. 

The only thing missing was an emblem I had been told about by a close friend who had visited the site before.  He spoke of a golden symbol of the people of Rohan on a rock on the mount; a sign of the stories this place has told.  I was desperate to find it, but no matter how hard we tried, Em, Kailey and I could not.  I tried to not let it’s ruin the moment, but it was still nagging me when it came time to walk down.  I had taken a moment by myself up top and as I walked down the slope I gave some last glances.  I had almost given up when my eyes were drawn to the left and I saw on a short rock ledge next to the trail the symbol I was looking for.  There, painted on the rock, proudly glimmering in the sunlight, was a golden horse head.  My heart pounded with excitement, my breath shortened, my eyes welled up.  I shouted to the girls below, I found it!!! In my initial haste to get to the top I had passed right by it!  Yet I would not have had it any other way: here at the end, with the sun shining and no one else on the mount with me, my hopes and dreams came true yet again.  In that moment I felt an overwhelming sense that I was being gifted something very special by my Heavenly Father, an experience crafted just for me, an act of love by the one who knows my heart better than any.  Thank you Daddy, I said.  He loves me.  He deeply, truly, loves me.

We carried on to Christ Church, spending New Years Eve there.  We got up early on New Years Day and saw the first sunrise in the world for 2018.  A pretty cool experience!  We explored the city and were impacted greatly by the aftermath of the 6.3 earthquake the city experienced in 2011 (read about it here).  Much of the place was destroyed, not only structurally but emotionally and spiritually as well.  It has recovered somewhat, evidenced by the multitudes of new buildings.  There is much more to be done, however.  It was sobering and inspiring all at once; people that have suffered so much, yet have continued to fight for their home.  Incredible!

After Christ Church we had three days left on the South Island.  We spent them driving up the east coast with no agenda except to get to our ferry on time.  It was a lovely few days, filled with short walks, wine tastings, picking strawberries, and more!  Eventually the last night came.  We had an 11pm ferry departure, so we planned to get a celebratory drink at a pub we spotted on day one of our trip.  I saw the Queens Daughter as we drove through the hamlet of Havelock (pop. 486) three weeks prior and it never left my mind.  It was absolute pleasure as we drove up, coming full-circle in our adventure.  The place did not disappoint!  We sat in a window bay, sipping drinks as rain poured down outside.  The company of my two friends, the surroundings of an old-style pub, and the feeling of a warm Irish coffee in my hands was all I could ask for and more.  Once again we found ourselves in a place we could have stayed forever.  It was a perfect ending, filled with warmth, contentment, and friendship.  Life is so beautiful sometimes!

Our ferry ride consisted of one thing: sleep!  A non-eventful trip brought us to our Wellington accommodation by 3:30am.  We crashed hard but I rose early to attend a tour at Weta Workshop nearby, the company that produced all props, costumes, digital effects, and all that stuff for the Lord of the Rings and Hobbit trilogies, and many other famous films.  Even till the very end there’s more to see!  Why stop?  Weta was incredible.  Seriously, if you’re a fan of anything Tolkien, you must go!  The rest of January 5 was spent driving back to Camp Adair where we work and live.  Returning home was bittersweet and it marked the end of our great road adventure, but reunited us with our friends here.

The South Island trip was one I will never forget.  It had its moments of bliss and reality.  Traveling so closely with two other people for three weeks is not all smooth sailing.  We definitely had to talk through things, but that was the very reason it worked.  Never underestimate the power of a meaningful conversation with purposeful questions. I learned a ton about my friends on this trip and even more about myself.  It was more than just vacation; it was life, which means struggle, work, joy, and victory all at once.  I realized half-way through the journey that I have thought about going to New Zealand for so long that I had developed an image, an expectation in my head of what it would be like.  Some things I was excited to see were simply not there.  I looked for pine trees and found ferns and vines.  I searched for historic pubs and towns and found newly established places instead.  The New Zealand I thought I’d wanted to go to was simply not there.  In its place was something so much better.  Once I realized this the experience changed completely.  My thoughts went from questions and even frustration, to appreciation and wonder, all because I chose to stop resisting what was given to me and instead say yes and embrace it.

A dream of mine has come true.  It’s not the first time I’ve experienced such a thing, but this one is of particular importance.  It’s been at the top of my list for a loooooooooooong time.  As I start to put things on the calendar for when I’m back State-side (yes I’m already doing that) I can’t help but wonder, What happens next?  Could anything top this?  I’m still wondering, the future a mystery.  But I do know this: just because my highest hopes and dreams have become reality doesn’t mean I’ve peaked.  I don’t know what’s in store for the future, but as a lover of Jesus I do know that I am called to go from glory to glory (2 Corinthinans 3:18).  What does that mean?  It means we keep moving forward, stepping ever higher into the realm of promise and fulfilment.  In that place is a life beyond anything we could create on our own strength.  I can’t wait to see what’s next, and when it happens I’ll be sure to let you know.  With the past as my starting point, though, the future looks really good.  Like, really really good!

Two years ago, I sat with a supervisor at work for a check-in.  After we talked for a bit she mentioned a program she used to work for.  She thought I’d be a great fit for it and to let her know if I was interested.  Next thing I knew I was applying for an international instructor position that would take me to Becket, MA, for a year and then to New Zealand for six months.  A couple months after applying I was hired and at the end of the summer I was on a plane, bound for a part of the country that I knew nothing about.  In the blink of an eye over a year had passed and it was time for me to leave for my next destination: New Zealand.  

I write this post from the Vancouver, BC, airport. I’ve found an unused gate to chill at.  It’s 10:45pm and I still have an hour till I board my 15hr 40min flight to Sydney.  For some reason they have opened the duty free shop even though there’s hardly anyone at this terminal.  The traveling life sure is glamorous, isn’t it?

I’ve always wanted to go to New Zealand.  First off, I’m a huge Lord of the Rings fan, so that alone could keep me busy for a year.  But more than that, the place overflows with outdoor adventure opportunities and world-renowned scenery.  You won’t meet many backpackers who don’t have NZ on their list.  The prospect of living and working there for 4 1/2 months gave it more substance than I could have imagined.  It didn’t quite happen as planned though.

I had family visits scheduled October 6-16 this year before departing the country.  Things were setup for me to depart from Portland, OR, on October 16.  Unfortunately, though, my mothers health has not been good this year.  Since mid summer she has struggled to regain full health.  When I arrived in Missoula I started wondering if I should leave the country.  By the end of the week the choice became clear: I needed to stay.

Literally overnight my life changed drastically.  I went from leaving the country to staying put for an unknown amount of time.  I celebrated my birthday on October 16 at a local brewery with my brother, his family, and some good friends.  I thought I would be celebrating it in a plane above the Pacific.  My life changed so much so quickly, it blew me away.  Why do we even make plans? I asked more than once.

I ended up staying in Missoula till just after Thanksgiving to help my mom and family with the situation.  It was not easy and certainly wasn’t always clear.  For most of the first half of my time there it felt like there was a fog in front of me so thick that I couldn’t see where my next step would land.  I actually didn’t know what the next week would hold for me.  Yet at the same time I knew I was supposed to be there.  I never doubted that what I was doing was the right thing.  It was a strange position to be in.

I’m still not totally sure what the purpose of my time in Missoula was.  My mom is not completely recovered, I didn’t have a major breakthrough in an area of life (that I’m aware of).  Good things definitely came of it, it was just so unexpected!  Only time will tell how this season for my family will fit into the grand scheme of things.  It’s hard to see right now.  Father God’s ways are beyond our understanding, but it brings abundant peace to know His character is good and perfect, and that will never change.  It’s these times of life that clarify what’s important to us.  It’s in the battles of life that we are made and our character solidifies, one way or the other.

This trip has been about 18 months in coming.  For it to finally be here is pretty surreal.  It’s one of those moments where your dreams become reality, your ideas turn into life. The overwhelming feeling I have today is gratitude. I’ve been blessed with “dreams come true” experiences in life and I’m thankful for yet another one.  I will be in NZ till April 15, 2018.  I’ll then return to the US and have some time with family.  Between now and then there’s a lot to experience, and I can’t wait for it all!