Love Is In The Blair

So… blog world… the long awaited closure to the Tra nsnis tria and Moldova chapters of this race has finally come.  I know you were feverishly checking your emails and my blog page, just in case you missed it.  Well, fret not, it has arrived. There came a time in my life when I found myself in the magical, yet not-so-official, land of Tr ansnistr ia, what some people know as Moldova.  As you may recall, if you frequent this blog and have a good memory, I was handed a piece of paper and instructed not to lose it.  Seeing as how losing it could potentially lead to a fine or imprisonment, I planned to keep a tight grip on it.  However, my pocket had a different plan, and it may well be in one of Tira spol’s finest abandoned buildings or dumpsters by now. So what ever became of me?  Whatever happened with the cliffhanger I dropped two blogs ago, only to not address last blog?  What is this? “Bones?” Nope.  This is my blog, and if you didn’t know that already I don’t know i

...(ANNOUNCER VOICE) "Previously on this blog... you read things (allegedly)... here are more things... I promise." This, once again is a little late, but it’s a part of the journey that “needs” to be shared.  I spent a second week in “Daughter Russia.”  This time I moved a little to the south and a little less to the east to a little place I can’t spell in any language, but if I had to give it a shot I’d say Slovodzeah,  but again… I’m pretty sure I just butchered that like a madman. In terms of “ministry,” this wasn’t some extreme mission.  We spent time with some teenagers from the church and painted in an orphanage, unless you are talking to the Narnian government, in that case the orphanage is closed, because they don’t like Christians taking care of children.  But the things we were doing weren’t “extreme” by any means, not “life-changing” things in and of themselves, but then again it’s learning to serve God and others in the simple things that is most

So I know, this is like a month late, and I’m in Mozambique now, and we always wanna read about the new stuff, but you’re gonna have to wait on that, at least from me.  Because meaningful things have happened, so I thought I’d give you a recap of Moldova… in three parts.  Why?  Well, because we lived it in 3 parts.  Don’t ask such pushy questions!  Geez!  Here’s part one, more is pending posting. This is more of a recounting of events than an exploration of deeper concepts.  Unveiled Pursuit(UP) had a little secret unveiled to us.  There’s a place called Tr ansni stria, or as I like to call it “Daughter Russia.”  It’s a pretend country, a political Narnia, if you will in that “monstrously” dominates the eastern landscape, of what most of those who know of Moldova, think is Moldova.  People think it’s Moldova, partly because it is, but this Soviet nook is it’s own deal, complete with Russian military, and their own currency, the rubel, which takes it’s namesake from Moth

So what is a guy to do when it’s Mother’s Day and he’s on the World Race in Mozambique, with no internet, and hasn’t spoken to his mom on Skype in a few days?  Well first he asks his friend who’s going back to America to call her and tell her Happy Mother’s Day from him, but then his friend would think that’s too much trouble.  So then when he sent his mandatory text message into the home office with his monthly SIM card information he’d include for the mystery person on the receiving end of his message a request with his mom’s phone number to call her and tell her he said Happy Mother’s Day.  But, of course, he’d have to assume that this mystery person behind the veil would quite possibly not oblige his, according to his presumption, uniquely original request. (ß repetitive redundancy alert) So based on that assumption he’d decide to give her the only gift he could other than, “staying safe” and “having fun.”  He’d write a Mother’s day blog, in her honor of course… to