Quest.

Heading to SCHOOL. The beginning of such a long awaited trek for both Maeg and I.

We converse often about what we expect from the semester…. only to arrive at the same conclusion: we have no idea. In this embraced state of unpredictability, however, we find freedom. Freedom to pursue and explore and glean and saturate in as much meaning as possible. With hopes that the external experiences lead to internal transformation, we will continue a Quest.

Yet our Quest reaches far beyond the fun excursions we know we’ll take. It’s a Quest to unpack and unveil the deeper things. Ourselves, our purposes, our Maker…. to “get over the sun, where life is hidden”. Because with eternity set in our hearts, and an innate longing for another world, we realize the culmination of events come and go, but a glimpse into the unseen will penetrate our cores for eternity.

"In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life" -Mumford And Sons

basilica workout.

Fatigued from our intense exploration days, we decided to split the Vatican City tour into two, low-key mornings. Still encountered difficulty while attempting the daunting climb of St. Peter’s Basilica, but felt better during our Sistine Chapel stroll. Leaving tomorrow for Firenze.

stop and stare.

One of Maegan’s favorite sites thus far was The Pantheon. Formerly a pagan temple, this grandiose edifice owes its current preservation to the Church itself. Though Maeg attempted to explain the architectural phenomena of this “floating dome” and the ingenious drainage system, I confess I lacked the ability to appreciate much of her insightful knowledge. Nevertheless, one fact about this artifact breached the gate of ignorance and lingered in my head for the remainder of the day: the light source of the dome. Upon entering the elaborate structure, Maeg pointed to a circular cutout (domulus oculus) at the top of the Pantheon cupola itself. “That is the only source of light,” she said. “It is supposed to turn everyone’s eyes toward heaven.”

So I stared. And I looked around to observe others’ gazes, all in an almost mesmerized trance, “toward heaven.”

Here we stood, in yet another surreal atmosphere, surrounded by complexly detailed sculptures, alluring artwork, and ornate mosaics. But the intrigue and attention of my company of tourists hardly glanced at such creations. Their fascination fixated solely on the light-the simple yet powerful shaft that illuminated everything else in that room.

I marveled at the temporary devotion that these people paid to the intangible light, rather than the visible sights around them. And I could not help but recognize how starkly this metaphor opposed reality. Too often, we find ourselves obsessed with the beautiful matter around us instead of its Source. Conviction sits heavily within this confession, myself included.

Yet even the greatest scenes displayed in our everyday life are considered mere shadows of the Almighty. The Giver Himself craves our full affection. Our full praise. Creating and giving so that we may respond with our eyes “toward heaven.” 

examined.

St. Ignatius’s prayer is a liturgical practice that prompts a meditation of reflection. In a watered down synopsis, it encompasses a daily step-by-step prayer, which mandates believers to consciously examine each day and note the moments in which God’s presence felt nearest, and, on the contrary, when His presence went unnoticed. Aka: Today, when did you feel closest to the Creator? When did you feel farthest? How can you increase the former, and decrease the latter?

Through devotion and discipline, this reflective prayer offers opportunity to grow in intimacy with God and cultivate a perceptiveness to His presence in all things.

….We wandered an estimation of 11 miles on foot yesterday, circling through the major sites of Roma. We embarked at metro stop “Ottaviano” near the Vatican, moved on to The Pantheon, marched to Termini Train Station and completed our tour-de-piede voyage at the Spanish Steps. Of course we found a few bookshops, bathroom stops and dead-ends to sprinkle in-between. (If you charted this on a map, you’d cry.)

After pausing for a short pizza dinner, we submitted to another three-hour jaunt with a friend named Dani, followed by a wisely considered decision to view the breathe-taking Colosseum, AGAIN. This time by moonlight.   

We finally made it home by 3 a.m. via isolated, underground metro changes and accompanied by creepy men.

Clearly we are very savvy travelers and racked up about 16 hours of almost non-stop motion. Sick.

In light of St. Ignatius, however, I need to recount the thinnest moment we experienced in our chaos-packed adventure day...

While resting on the magnificent Spanish Steps, Maeg and I followed wise-advice to read aloud the book of Romans.

This audible truth created a rich silence in itself, but I got chills as watched literal Roman locals walk down the steps before our eyes. He spoke in silence at that moment to me, to Maeg and to them…

“And you also are among those who are called to belong to Jesus Christ. To all in Rome who are loved by God and called to be saints…” Romans 1:6-7

"and this is like i have always dreamed, cobblestone and dusty feet...

that's the way it should always be."

-passion pit

speaking in silence.

One of my favorite songs, introduced to me from summer 2010, repeats a simple but profound phrase, “spoke more in the silence.” Though the artist most eloquently sang such words within a connotation of romance, this small thought unravels more and more personal meaning with each step into the wanderlust season of Maeg and I’s journey: 
Sometimes, the silence of our day speaks More. Whether in the literal and tranquil silence of the Iachelli’s private villa in the countryside north of Rome, or in the harmonious and reverent silence within the immensely intricate Roman Santa Maria cathedral, or merely in the internal silence of an introspective countenance amidst the crowded chaos in the bustling cobblestone streets of the one of the world’s largest cities. Silence manifests itself in the present. And when we subconsciously or consciously recognize this truthful irony, we’ll probably hear more than if we ignored it.

…like we might affirm the Italian stereotype of familial-importance as we hear the laughter and chatter resound from orchard to vineyard on the Iachelli’s land. We might hear our dream resolve after our 1 Euro coin splashes into the shallow pool below the Trevi Fountain. Or we may hear a hint of comprehendible wisdom in the soft dialogue of two old Italian men, sitting in the corner of the quaint Roman bookstore we discovered.

Nevertheless, we acknowledge on the opportunity and challenge to hear More this fall.

Within our craving to explore the new world before us, within a desire to un-layer life’s meaning around us, we want to know what truly is being Spoken in silence-regardless its form. And with practice and absence of distractions, we’ll learn to hear it. Hear Him.

He who has ears, let him hear. Matthew 11:15

Out at the Iachelli community where we spent

 the day with Brittany and Rachel

Fresh verdure from the Iachelli farm...

Local tastes better.

Wandering the streets of Rome

we made it.

Wanderlust. A word foreign to my lips only a month ago, now banners as the anthem of our trip. How else could we describe it though? The deep, deep need to move beyond what we know. To leave what has for so long, comforted and encouraged us, and embark on a journey through a realm of unfamiliar newness, potentially testing all that we claim to be.

But we don’t merely wander to wander. Nomad for the sake of nomading itself. The innate craving to explore stems from an actual (and insatiable) Maker-designed desire for eternity.

So as we trek and connect and meet and greet, may we glean wisdom and paradigm. But may we always conclude that it will never be enough. That new world upon new world will never answer all the questions. Will never allow us to arrive where we think we ought to be. In the end, may we join Lewis in concluding that we truly are made for another world-one beyond this globe.

"Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for these desires exists. A baby feels hunger; well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim; well, there is such a thing as water...If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." 
— C.S. Lewis

hey maeg.