Bringing it back…

Culture re-entry is never something I eagerly anticipate.  It’s a struggle on many levels: mental, physical, emotional and spiritual.  This entire past week, while in Honduras, I spent a lot of time processing with people, which is not common for me.  Usually I internally process and then may share the results.  But this was very raw processing, being unexpectedly hit with buried emotion, frustration, joy, and God-appointed moments.  Many times there was no filter, but there was a community to support me.  And now I’m coming back and trying to fit all of this into my head, heart and life.  I know it’s impossible, but I pray that God would use this past week to continue to shape me into who He wants me to be.  So this will likely ramble a bit, because I’m putting my thoughts into some semblance of order.  It’s not neatly packaged, though not as raw as it might be, as I’ve had a day of travel to process already. 

This past week was a daily, building reminder about what I love and miss about Honduras and the Honduran culture.  It started with the land itself.  Driving from San Pedro Sula to Comayagua was a winding road of hills and mountains, breathtaking valleys and one large lake.  It was a far cry from the flat urban sprawl of northern Illinois.  As we were driving, I found myself answering questions from a few members of our group who had never been there, and as I talked it brought back so many precious memories of people and places I miss. 

Sunday started with a worship time in Comayagua.  I was grateful to realize I still had enough Spanish where I could follow the vast majority without translation.  Worshiping God breaks down cultural and language barriers.  Standing in that church together, we were embraced and loved by people who had never seen us before, and this side of heaven may never see us again, but loved us because we are family, we are all adopted sons and daughters of God the Father.  In that, we have unity.  For me, that continued later, as I met up with Jennifer, a friend from when I lived here.  I hadn’t seen her in 3 years, but time fell away very quickly.  Our conversation was encouraging and I may find myself coming back to Honduras more frequently or for longer periods of time as a result, but right now all of that is still in the prayer stage.

This week was different from my previous experiences.  There was a lot more continuity with Hondurans; we saw some of the same people from one day to another.  We did things (like laying adobe bricks) with them which meant we had the opportunity for extended conversations.  My Spanish was stretched and I was pretty comfortable with it by the end of the week.  But mostly I saw again and again how God cares for individuals, including myself.  I don’t think, as a group, we’ve ever had as many “God moments” as we had this past week.  It was evident that God was there and working from day 1.  I won’t try to recount the stories here…if you want to know, just ask me, I’ll be happy to talk about it.

At this stage, I would say I’m a veteran at short-term Honduras trips.  I think this was short term trip #8, not counting the year I lived there and the times I’ve spent just visiting…and those are just the trips I’ve taken to Honduras.  Somewhere along the line, I’ve started to feel like one of the leaders of the trip rather than a participant…not that I’m up front giving direction, because I’m not, nor do I want to be.  But I’m usually waiting until last to volunteer for something because I’ve done it before and I’m willing to do it all again…provided no one else is taking the opportunity.  I’m looking for people who seem to need to talk and process what they’re going through.  I ask people how they’re doing and what they’re thinking, both because I very much want to know, but also because I know that people need to speak it out loud.  I give advice, I answer questions, I’m flexible…I’ve found it’s what is often needed.  I remember needing that my first trip, both because I was overwhelmed and because I was processing my grandmother’s recent death (I missed her funeral because I was in Honduras.)  I had great people who came along side me that year.  They were there for a hug, to talk, whatever. 

Unexpectedly this year, I needed that again.  And there were people with me who stepped in and helped me process, or just offered me a hug.  Many of them were people I didn’t know (or didn’t know well) before this trip.  But I was reminded again that we are created to be in community with people.  Much as our culture values independence, possibly above all else, you can do so much more, and enjoy so much more, when you work together in community.  You bear one another’s burdens, support, encourage, pray for, laugh with, sing with, and just do life with other people.    I think I both laughed and cried more on this trip than has happened for a long time.  And I had people coming along side me, helping me on the way.  I’m incredibly thankful for the experience and my new friends…and I’m praying that God would provide me with that same sense of community here.

I've stopped writing...

I created this blog really for my journey to and my time in Honduras.  After returning, I stopped writing in it, and actually in many ways I stopped writing at all.  I still journal - private personal thoughts and prayers that are just between me and God - but in many ways it seems to me like if I'm not out there doing something, no one would care what I'm thinking about.  I mean who really wants to know about the daily life of a suburban teacher.  And how can I have a "purpose" when every day seems like every other day.

But today I was thinking about it, and I realized that a lot has happened to me and a lot of changes have taken place since I came back from Honduras.  I may not be in a "foreign" country (which, when I visit, still seems like home), but it is still affecting me.

It's hard for me to believe it's been almost 3 years since I came back.  At times it seems a lifetime ago, other times it really does seem like it was just last week.  I have been back to visit since then.  I haven't yet seen everyone, but I have seen most of my students.  I know that my friends and family like to hear about those trips, but fewer of them ask about how I've changed (and in their defense, it would be difficult to answer that question on the fly).  I still think in Spanish occasionally, I still read in Spanish some, but I know I'm losing a lot of the language I had.  Hopefully it would come back quickly.

When I first came back, that first year, I pretty much was just waiting for God to send me again.  I didn't know whether it would be to Honduras or somewhere else, but I just wanted to go.  I wanted the clearer sense of purpose that came with being surrounded by your mission.  We all have a mission/purpose.  When you are somewhere other than your "home" that mission is often clearer.  You go on vacation to relax - that is your mission.  You visit friends to spend time with them - that is your mission.  I went overseas to teach - that was my mission.  When you're home, it's more difficult to find that purpose.  Some days it just seems to be to make enough money to survive.  Other days it's to get the house cleaned.   But it seems like I'm constantly being pulled in so many directions with no underlying clear goal.

The first year was probably the biggest physical and obvious transitions.  I needed to move back into my house, learn the new programs at school, reacquaint myself with how things were run there.  There was a new assessment system, a new evaluation system, new website, new teachers, new classes, a lot of new things.  Going shopping on my own in huge stores, creating my own schedules and having the flexibility of my own transportation were all somewhat overwhelming at first.  But you fall back into the pattern, re-learn how to do things and stop mentioning it to other people.  Within six months, most other people forgot I ever was gone, and a few of them told me that too.  But I very much didn't forget, because the internal transitions still go on.

I mentioned that during the first year, internally, I expected God to send me back, or send me somewhere.  When I didn't feel that, there was a fair amount of depression.  It seemed like everyone else had moved on and forgotten about it and about me, at times it even seemed like God had.  There was a lot of internal doubt about my decisions, God's decisions and whether or not God had a plan for my life.  Now, looking back, I can see both God's presence and His faithfulness through that time, but in the middle of it, both of those were hard to see.  Finishing off my first year of school in the States did hold a sense of accomplishment.  I went back to Honduras for a few weeks over the summer, and saw some people again.  Leaving that time seemed far more difficult than it had been the first time, because I knew what I was coming back to, and I still didn't know what my purpose was.  Shortly after returning, with school starting up again, I was told that if I did not get a Masters' degree within the next few years, my salary would be frozen.

This presented a few problems.  I didn't have extra money sitting around to pay for a Masters program.  I didn't have time to attend classes, and I didn't want a Masters just for the sake of getting a Masters.  The whole system of "you pay for a piece of paper (degree) which will then make us pay you more money (salary)" seems a little twisted and political.  So I half-heartedly looked around for programs, and talked to people who were getting a Masters or had gotten one recently.  I did find one that was fairly reasonably priced and all online.  I had done online classes before, I knew I could be disciplined enough to monitor my own progress.  I had to make the decision between what type I wanted to get, and all I knew was that I did not want to go into administration, so I decided to get a degree in curriculum and instruction.

Working towards my Masters has taken up a lot of the last 16 months.  I have two classes left to go, I'm finally almost there.  What I have seen through this is a continuation of God's faithfulness in providing for me in every way.  I have been able to pay for my classes as I've gone along.  My 10-year-old car has been very well behaved and not needed much in the way of maintenance.  My medical insurance has paid more than I thought they would of various bills that have come up.  I have gotten tutoring jobs when I needed extra money.  God has provided in many ways, both small and large, to allow me to work towards this goal.  And He provided a way for me to go back down to Honduras last summer as well.  I wasn't expecting that I would be able to go, financially or time-wise (as I was taking classes throughout the summer).  Looking back, I still don't fully understand how it came together, but it did.

God has also, in the last year or so, shown me other reasons that I'm here, in the States, in this place, at this time.  I don't have time to go into all of that now, because I've already spent more time than I anticipated writing, but I'll have to come back to that later...

A Month in the States

We’re at the end of August.  This is the first month I’ve spent entirely in the States since a year ago June.  And according to most people, a month is a sufficient time to recover from almost anything, really.  Some of them don’t even understand why I have to recover at all, because we have so many more conveniences here.  So there shouldn’t be any adjustment coming back to the States, right?

Before leaving and living somewhere else for a year, I would have understood that idea.  Now it seems somewhat ridiculous.  It’s impossible to describe mentally, physically and emotionally what I’m still going through.  The smallest, random things bring me back to Honduras.  A smell, a song, certain foods, phrases, any smattering of Spanish I hear, facebook posts, pictures on my screen saver, etc.  Sometimes there is no trigger, sometimes my mind just goes there, and I find myself missing the students and teachers, and praying for them.  Then there are the times when I’m talking with people, whether currently in the States or people who are still down there, and that obviously brings it back.  And when I'm talking with people, they can understand that...what they don't get is how, for me, "normal" has be redefined.

There are a number of circumstances that were typical for me before leaving, which now are overwhelming.  I’m getting better at shopping at WalMart, but the place is huge, and if I don’t go in with a written down list and check it off, I usually forget a couple of things along the way, because I get distracted or I wander around in circles for a while as I try to remember where something is, or mull over which brand out of 15 or 20 I should choose.  [I do a lot of shopping now at Aldi, fewer options, less overwhelming.]  My church as well has been overwhelming to some extent.  There have been many new people who have started attending in the last year.  I don’t know them, they know each other…and it’s a far cry from the 25-30 people I had in my church in Honduras.  Being back in school in many ways is also overwhelming.  There are too many people going in too many directions, requesting too many things at the moment.  I’m know I’ll get used to it and get on top of it, but in some ways I feel like I’m a first year teacher again, trying to figure out everything that needs to be done and how it should be done.

Humans are interesting creatures; we adapt to new environments and routines and over time it becomes our “normal”.  When we enter into another environment, what we consider “normal” changes.  That was my position…now I’m going back to my first environment and I’m questioning it in some cases rather than just submersing myself back in.  Living and working in the northwest suburbs of Chicago takes energy and focus and in many cases a willingness to put many “extraneous” relationships on hold for your job and the million and one things you’re involved in (okay, a slight exaggeration there).  You learn what you need to do, you learn how much time you can spend on any one task, you learn to budget and juggle until it’s all you know how to do, and your friends tend to be people who are with you in one or more of those things you do on a daily or weekly basis.  That’s not a bad thing.  But in the last year I’ve learned how to be quiet, I’ve learned how to be content with my own company, with a slower pace, with meeting random people, with conversations and relationships where on the surface we don’t have much of anything in common, other than a love of God.  In some cases, we don’t even have a language in common.  I’ve learned to slow down…and part of me is resisting speeding up again…at least to the level where I was before.

School has started again.  With that comes demands on my time, mind, patience, etc.  I’m trying to find a way where I can function in this world without losing the lessons that I learned in Honduras, without finding myself crazy busy again where 5 hours of sleep a night is considered good, and one to two hours of breathing space a week is what I get if I’m lucky.  I’m fortunate, I was forced out of all my activities, tutoring, etc when I was gone, and people learned to deal without me.  Now, coming back, I can approach this more prayerfully and intentionally in what I want to get involved in, and what really isn’t my passion.

In short, I’m still processing through culture shock, I’m trying to figure out how to make who I was in Honduras and the lessons I learned while I was there mesh with my life here.  What to keep, what to change, same with activities, relationships, natural responses, etc.  And I know I’m supposed to be here right now…but I’m waiting on God’s direction for the future…again, not necessarily comfortable, but very necessary.  And unfortunately it's an ongoing process that doesn't really have an end in sight...

Re-Entry

I’ve now been Stateside for almost 4 weeks.  I’m going back to Honduras in another couple of days, for two weeks, and then I’ll be back here “permanently” [or at least for the foreseeable future].  In some ways, being back has been good, and in other ways it’s rough.  People ask how I’m doing or if I’m glad to be back, and in many ways, the answer changes every day, sometimes every minute.  It reminds me of a scene in Harry Potter 5 (the book…and I think the movie…):  Harry, Ron and Hermione are sitting in the common room, near Christmas, right after Harry kissed Cho (this girl he’s liked for over a year).  Cho was crying, and Ron teases Harry that he’s not a good kisser.  Hermione says he’s fine, Cho is just conflicted, and when the guys continue to act confused, she goes on to explain all the different thoughts and emotions that Cho is going through at this point.  Ron comes back with: “One person can’t feel all that at once, they’d explode!”  Right now, in many ways, I’m living that sentiment.

It’s impossible to explain all of how I’m doing, what I’m feeling, and any of my experiences right now.  A lot of my time and energy is spent focusing on the task at hand…which is currently getting my house back together.  I’d forgotten how much stuff I have.  I remember when I was packing my house up to make room for my renter to move in, I threw out a lot of stuff that I didn’t need.  In unpacking, I’m doing much the same thing…either throwing it out or moving it back into storage to potentially sell or give away.  There are times when I’m doing okay, and times when I’m completely overwhelmed and can just stare at the stuff around me…most of which I definitely didn’t miss in the last year, much of which I completely forgot I owned.

I’ve spent a lot of time meeting with people these past couple weeks as well, which is a mixed blessing.  I enjoy spending time with people, finding out about where they are right now, what’s been happening in their lives, and sharing some about mine.  At the same time, I’ve heard many assumptions or statements which I know are well meaning, but are also hurtful. 

“Welcome back to civilization…”  Yes, I was living in a developing country.  Yes, Honduras is very poor in many ways…but that doesn’t mean that it’s uncivilized.  They have cell phones, internet (granted mine was really slow), vehicles, schools, shopping malls, etc.  It may not be as grand or elaborate as those in the states, the power may go out on a weekly basis and you barely notice, but just because we’re incredibly, abundantly, overly blessed here…it doesn’t mean they’re not civilized.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be fine.  You’ve lived here for years, you weren’t gone that long.”  A lot can happen in a year…a lot can happen in a few months or even a few weeks.  You learn new ways of doing things, new ways of relating, how to live without things, and in many ways how to enjoy a different lifestyle.  And when you come back, you’re seeing your “old” life through that lens.  It’s no longer what you’re used to.  I read somewhere that it takes 30 days to make a habit…or at least that’s what’s commonly accepted.  Even giving some time for the initial culture shock…living in another culture for a year is by far long enough to get new habits.

“When you’re back to normal…” I’m assuming it’s intended to be:  “when you’ve had time to reacclimate and had a chance to emotionally stabilize”…because I’m pretty sure I’ll never go back to the “normal” I was at before…and I’m also pretty sure I don’t want to…

What is normal? In some ways it feels like some people are treating my reverse culture shock like a disease I'll recover from, and when I've been back long enough I'll revert back to the "me" I was before.  I hope not.  I hope that the lessons I've learned and the things I've experienced will have a lasting impact. I know I need to relearn how to live in this culture, but that doesn't mean I have to forget my time in Honduras.

A hard part of coming back is trying to reconcile two very different sets of priorities.  [And I know I'm generalizing here, so please don't jump down my throat...]. In the States, in many ways, we're focused on responsibility and independence.  Honduras in many ways is focused on relationships and interdependence.  That isn't to say that relationships aren't important in here, or that responsibility isn't important there...but an example: here you meet people on a schedule.  You almost have to, especially if you're meeting somewhere other than someone's house.  Most people are very time conscious, and we think people are rude if they show up more than a few minutes late (or come over excessively early).  If we see a friend or acquaintance somewhere when we're shopping or out somewhere, we'll strike up conversation, but it usually is short, because we're conscious that we have things to get done and they likely have things to get done.  Not so much in Honduras.  If you see someone in the mall, it's not uncommon to have longer conversations, or to change your plans to spend time with them.  People will come over unannounced, or be invited in spontaneously, and sometimes these unplanned visits span hours or meals.  When a guest comes over, they usually stop what they're doing to spend time with that person.  Help is also freely offered and often accepted (though pride does come into play at times).  Relationships are so important that culturally, it's very difficult to refuse people things.  However, most people don't take undue advantage of it.

One of my biggest frustrations in returning is how often people interrupt when you're in a conversation.  I don't know if I'm just more sensitive to it, or if it's happening to me more often (I'm guessing I'm more sensitive) but there have been numerous times with numerous people where I've felt like walking away from the conversation and just sending an email, because at least those can get written without interruption.  I can't count the number of times I've been asked a question by a friend, so I start to answer, and within two sentences they've had to interject something...a question, comment, or assumption.  If you really want to know about my time, let me tell it.  If you don't want to know, don't ask.  I won't be offended if you don't ask...I do get more offended if you ask, but show you don't really care about the answer, because as I'm talking you're thinking about what you want to say next rather than listening to what I'm saying.  I don't need to talk about my trip all the time; I do want to find out what is happening in other people's lives.  I understand that in the year I've been gone, life has gone on here in the States, as it should.

It will be interesting to see how things go as I return to Honduras.  I don’t know what it will feel like to go back…the same in some ways and different in others.  I’m only back at the Ranch for a week.  Some people are no longer around, and I’ll miss them.  Others it will be very good to see again (and very difficult to say goodbye to).

How do you pack up a year of your life?

Any advice, please…

This was the last Monday I’ll be in Honduras…well at least for the next month.  And when I come back, I’m not coming back for good, I’m just coming back for two weeks, so it’s not the same.  It does make leaving a little easier, but emphasis on LITTLE.

This evening I started really packing.  I’ve been consolidating things for the past week or so, weeding out things I don’t need to take back with me, separating things into things I’ll use before I return and things I’m going to stow here until I return for a week.  Tonight I actually went through and started counting off the days until I leave (6) and then portioning out what clothing I still need to wear, and packing the rest, packing up cosmetics, pictures, getting my DVDs in order, figuring out what people are still borrowing, going through every drawer in my room and throwing things out, putting things to the side that I don’t need, but other people may want…in general getting ready to wrap up my life here.  It’s more difficult than I anticipated in some ways…it makes things more real.  I really am leaving in less than a week.  And how do I go from the life I’m used to here back to the fast-paced, materialistic, busy world I came from?

In many ways the last year devoid of TV (or at least commercials…the TV I’ve watched has all been on DVD), radio, reliable phone service and high speed internet has been a relief.  I get phone service when I’m in the city (Teguc), outside in some areas on the Ranch, or connected to the antenna in Scott’s room.  But even then, I don’t get phone calls in, I just call out.  The internet is a frustration at times, but the intermittent service means that many times I don’t spend a lot of time tied in to facebook and e-mail.  I still check it every day, but before I left I would spend time not only on chatting with people, but playing games on facebook or on the internet.  I don’t think I’ve really done anything with facebook apps since before Christmas.  It takes too long to load, often causes my internet to freeze up, and it’s not worth the trouble.  That greatly decreases the amount of time I spend online (or it would if the internet was as fast here as it is at home…).  Add into that, I don’t have a driver’s license or vehicle here, so I basically have a lot of time to spend talking with people and reading books (and the aforementioned DVDs and movies…and usually those are viewed with at least one other person).  And in some cases, these people have become like family. 

That’s not even touching on the students that I’ve taught this past year.  When you live on the same property as the students, you get to know them rather well.  I had one student tell me that she looks at me like an older sister…and she’s only two and a half years younger than my younger sister, so that’s not too much of a stretch.  I’ve had students ask me to come back next year.  I’ve had parents thank me for the impact I’ve had on their kids.  And in the past week I’ve had to say goodbye already to people I’ve gotten to know really well, some of whom I may never see again this side of heaven.

I’m leaving this culture, and returning to one where in many cases people are too busy to sit down and talk…unless it’s a previously scheduled time, in which case they may be able to spare 15 minutes (an hour if you’re a really good friend) to talk.  I’m returning to a world where texting and facebook messages have replaced phone conversations because it allows you to multitask more easily.  It’s a world where, when I left, I was fortunate to get 6 hours of sleep and half an hour of breathing space a day…usually that included weekends.  I was surrounded by people, but usually we were so focused on whatever task was at hand that there wasn’t much time for personal conversation…unless that was the task at hand.  And in many ways, I don’t want to go back to that.  I want to go home, I want to see my family and friends…but I don’t want to go back to the task-oriented, busy pace of life back in the States. 

I don’t know if there’s any way around it.  I do know that I’m going to try to limit what I commit to, and in many cases I’m making those decisions before I get back home, which will make it easier to say no to the worthy and worthwhile causes that people ask me to join.  It’s not that I don’t think they’re important, or that I don’t support what people are doing in that…it’s just that my focus isn’t there, and I don’t want to be so busy with “good” things that I don’t have energy to dedicate to “best” things.

But before I look too far ahead, I still have six days to get through…well, five really, because day six is traveling.  In that time there will be many more goodbyes to say, packing to finish, conversations to be had, pictures to swap, life to live, and curriculum to finish (school is school in any country). 

3 Weeks?!?!?

In 3 weeks I will be back Stateside.  That's really hard to believe right now.  We have one week of normal school left, then next week will be standardized testing, cleaning the school and graduation.  The last week I'm here, I'll be working on curriculum stuff.  And then I'm home - June 17th. 

Over the next few weeks I'll be packing things up, saying goodbye to people, and trying to process my year here.  That's going to be really difficult, and I'm pretty sure that the next three weeks will fly by.  I'll be heading back here again in July, which helps with the goodbyes somewhat, because at least this time they're only "see you later" and not goodbye for good.  But how do you really pack up one life and try to pick up your old life?

I haven't been posting much on here, but I have been writing a lot in my journal as I'm processing this whole transition.  This also means I don't have much to write about right now, because I have written it...it's just not public.  But prayer would be appreciated as I'm making this transition.

Happy Easter!

I’ve always found the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter to be an interesting day.  It’s a day of crushed hopes, of disappointment.  I can picture Jesus’ disciples looking at each other with a “what now?” expression.  Their hope was killed, betrayed by one they all called friend.  How do you react to that?

If Easter…the resurrection…hadn’t arrived, that would have been the end of the story.  They likely would have gone back to their own lives, back to fishing, collecting taxes, whatever they had done before.  But that’s not the end of the story.  The women came with the news that Jesus’ body had been removed from the tomb, and on inspection it was true.  The tomb where Jesus’ body had been hastily placed and well-guarded (by trained, Roman soldiers) was indeed empty.  And the disciples were confused.  One of the women is convinced that she actually spoke with Jesus.  Then a report comes from two who followed with them, saying that a very-much-alive Jesus had walked with them as they were going to Emmaus, explaining why this man Jesus had to come, live as he had, and die as he did.  He explained that his death WAS the fulfillment of scripture.  And about the time they realized who he was, Jesus disappeared from their presence.  They ran back to Jerusalem as fast as they could to report it.  Later, Jesus appears to all the disciples.  Their hope is restored and their lives are changed, radically changed.

But right now, on this day, they don’t know that.  They have a bleak future ahead of them…one of uncertainty and futility.  I wonder what they thought of that day after the fact.  And the next few weeks, when Jesus was with them, preparing to leave them for the second time.  The uncertainty they faced of what their life would be like after he was gone.  Jesus had spent the last three years preparing them for this time.  Shortly, they would be past the point of preparation, and would pass into living life under the unseen guidance of the Holy Spirit, and spreading to all parts of the known world what they had seen in Jesus and learned from Jesus. 

In some ways it feels that the last year and a half for me has been a time of preparation.  A year ago at this time I was in the middle of raising funds, buying a plane ticket, trying to get things in order at home so I could come here.  In many ways, I had no idea what life would look like here.  I didn’t know the people I was going to meet, the friends I was going to make, the experiences I would have.  I didn’t know the changes that would go on in me, the ways that God would speak to me, grow me and guide me further on this path of life and maturity.  And again, I find myself in that same place.  Except this time I’m preparing to go back home.

In the last nine months I’ve seen God work in my life in amazing ways, I’ve seen God work in the kids that I teach.  I watched some of them mature dramatically.  I’ve seen myself change.  Looking back, I know I’ve been here for a reason, I know God called me here, and I know He’s calling me to go back home.  And that’s all that matters…because if I came here because I wanted to and for no other reason, then it most likely would have been a waste of my time.  If I’m doing what I want to do because I want to do it, even if I think it’s a good thing, my efforts fall flat.  I’m here, because God called me here, He paved the way for it; every detail fell effortlessly into place.  It doesn’t mean it’s been easy, it just means every roadblock I put up was torn down rather quickly.

And it all comes back to God.  It all comes back to what He did for me all those years ago on that cross.  It all comes back to the meaning behind Easter.  In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul said “If Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and so is your faith.  Your faith is worthless; you are still in your sins.  If we have hope in Christ in this life only, we are to be pitied above all men.”