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So, are you like missionaries or something?

"So, are you like missionaries or something?" This is the number one question people ask when I mention we are moving to Honduras. It's a good question and one, to be completely honest, I'm never really sure how to answer. Are we like missionaries or something? I'm unsure.

What exactly does the word "Missionary" mean in today's world? When people ask that question, what mental image does the word "Missionary" evoke? Is it a title? A calling? A position? A lifestyle? Is it a job description? Maybe it brings to mind William Carey, English cobbler, father of modern missions setting sail for India. Or, maybe it's Harrison Ford in The Mosquito Coast (yikes!).

Truthfully, I've always had trouble with titles. Especially ones that can be and often are used by society to set apart or elevate a person socially or intellectually rather than being used to describe what they do. Maybe it's just my own insecurity because I don't have a college education and my own title or letters behind my name. Maybe I'm anti-authoritarian, a rebel, an Anarchist. Hmmmm...no, I really don't think so, on either count.

Your Honor, Doctor, Pastor, Officer, General, President...each of these titles demand the respect the position deserves and the power or ability that comes with it. But none of these titles describe the "person". Trust me, I WILL respect the Officer with the badge and gun even though I may not respect the man he is off duty. In the same way, when I'm sick I want to know the Doctor diagnosing me is competent, skilled and has M.D. after his name, at a minimum.

Okay, so maybe "Missionary" is not that kind of title. (I'm just thinking out loud here) Maybe "missionary" to most people is more of a "job description".  The Free Online Dictionary defines missionary as: 1. One who is sent on a mission, especially one sent to do religious or charitable work in a territory or foreign country.
2. One who attempts to persuade or convert others to a particular program, doctrine, or set of principles; a propagandist.

I'm not sure that helps my dilemma. We are going to Honduras to do religious and charitable work. We will no doubt attempt to persuade and/or convert others. But, what about all the time I'll spend being Husband, Father, Friend, Entrepreneur, Administrator, Mentor, Host, Leader, Servant, Driver, Cook, Blogger... Will I really be devoting the vast majority of my days and nights exclusively to charitable efforts or to the persuading of others to believe that Jesus Christ is the only way to heaven? Unlikely. So which one of these things I've listed most accurately describes me, what I do and who I am? Should I only choose one?

So maybe it describes motive. Ah ha! That must be it. A missionary must be one who is motivated by the desire to spread the Good News and to do religious and charitable work. Problem: With the exception of being in a foreign country, my wife and about 49 other volunteers just spent a week at Camp Good News doing this exact thing. I don't remember them being referred to or calling themselves "missionaries". So perhaps to qualify for the position, title or job description of missionary it must be one's full time occupation and must be in a foreign country. Maybe that's it!

So what are we? I don't feel as though I am any closer to a good answer than when I started. You know something? I think I'll just skip all the titles and descriptions and tell people I'm a just a man who loves Jesus and wants to follow in His footsteps even if it means moving to Honduras. Now, ask me what that means!

Maps: 1" = 500 Miles

To the right is Google Map's recommended route from Farmington, Maine USA to Siguatepeque, HN C. A. It's 4000+ miles. That's the most direct route. Most of my life I've been a "direct route" kind of person. Time is money, wasted fuel = wasted profits, but there have been many times I have detoured out of my way to see friends and family or a particular sight. I once went over a hundred miles out of my way for some really good BBQ.

My point is this. It's not always all about reaching the destination in the shortest amount of time. I'm a big believer in goals and destinations, but I also believe in enjoying the journey. Sometimes the journey is the best part. Sometimes the destination isn't everything we hoped it would be, but I don't think I've ever been disappointed in the journey.


I love maps. I can spend hours reading a map, but I confess...I'm hooked on my Garmin GPS. For pure effectiveness, you can't beat it. But for sitting down and planning a trip, there's nothing like a good Rand McNally road atlas, now in it's 89th edition. You can see the big picture. Read the names of towns like Bucksnort, TN or Nothing, AZ. Scenic routes, interstates, back roads, national parks...decisions, decisions, decisions. The planning starts, but you don't plan every detail. All those will be filled in as you travel. The places you'll stop to eat, gas up or sleep, the people you'll meet, sights you'll see are all mysteries until you get there. Honestly, would you really have it any other way?

In my last post I wrote about how I was becoming disheartened. I realized that one of the reasons I was feeling this way is because I wanted answers to some of the questions that can only be answered when we get "there". Details that just can't be planned. I've recently begun following the blog of an incredible family as they take a 5 year journey from Alaska to Argentina with 5 children. Check out their blog Discover. Share. Inspire. One of the things I've particularly enjoyed has been their video Q & As to 55 of your questions about life, travel and pursuing the dream. If you get the chance, please take a look at these. They're open, honest and filled with excitement and zest for life. Greg and Rachel, I love what you're doing, setting the example, living your dream and encouraging others to live theirs.

Anyway, in one of their videos about how much planning they did before starting out, Greg and Rachel made this comment. (my paraphrase) "You can't plan the entire trip out. Sometimes you just need to take the next step. When you do that, the next step will reveal itself."  WOW!  DID YOU HEAR THAT?   SOMETIMES YOU JUST HAVE TO TAKE THE NEXT STEP.

Are you waiting to start living your dream because you can't see every step or plan for every contingency (that's a future event or circumstance that is possible but cannot be predicted with certainty.) Do your research, get out the map, make some phone calls, but take that first step and then the one after that and the one after that.

I was worrying about steps that were way down the road. That's why I was disheartened. I needed to just concentrate on the next step. For us that's selling some land, some vehicles, getting paperwork together, renting the house. After we get all that done then we can start on the next step.

Get out the map. Decide where it is you want to go. Do you want to go back to school? Do you want to travel? Do you want to write a book? Whatever it is you want to do, make it your destination. Map out the route, understand that  1" may equal 500 miles and that there's a lot of living, a lot of adventure and a lot of uncertainty in that distance, and then TAKE THAT FIRST STEP!

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Road Signs: Are they really necessary?

I've been a truck driver the majority of my adult life. 28 years driving the highways of America.  I've logged over 2.5 million miles in that time. I've moved a lot of different freight using different types of trailers. No matter what I'm hauling there have always been two constants. Two things that never change.

1. I had a destination.
2. I had a map to get me there.

Anytime we set a course for our lives, doesn't really matter what it is, we must have a destination and a map. Many of us are content to wander through life. We "happen" to get married, find a job, a place to live, have kids. We see life as a Sunday afternoon drive. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. As the saying goes, "Life happens", whether we plan for it or not. What I'm talking about is when we deliberately set a direction for our lives. College, career, goals, anything that requires a predetermined outcome. That's "destination".

For our family that destination has become Honduras. The problem with destinations and journeys is that most of the time they are a long way off. It's easy to become discouraged, disheartened, overwhelmed with the amount of time and effort and expense it will take to reach the destination. That's been me this past week. I began to question the validity of this particular destination, the amount of effort and money required to reach it was becoming overwhelming. The fear of the unknowns cast shadows of doubt over the certainties. I felt myself becoming disheartened.

Over the course of my career I have learned the importance of road signs. I cannot tell you how many times I have begun to question whether or not I was still on the right road, literally. Maybe I had missed a turn and was headed in the wrong direction. The reason for my doubt was this; I had seen no road signs for many miles confirming I was still on the right road. (This was before GPS.) Finally I would see a sign, US Highway 30. Immediately uncertainty would vanish and I would drive ahead, confident I was still on track.

Road signs come in all sorts of shapes, sizes, colors and languages. Some have words or numbers, others have pictures or symbols. Some are clear, understandable. Others...not so much. I have found in life that the "signs" we are given are much the same. Sometimes the road is clearly marked, other times we need to ask someone who has travelled this way before to help.

Last week I really needed to see a road sign. I needed to know we were still on the right track. Yesterday I saw the sign I needed to reaffirm our direction. My confidence was renewed. I was reassured that, yes, we are still headed in the right direction. In my opinion, road signs for life are just as important as road signs for the highway. However, even when we do have signs and maps, it doesn't mean that the journey is not without diversions, detours and delays. These things are all part of what makes the journey unique, interesting and exciting.

In my next post I'm going to write about the map. How we plan to get to the destination. The route we'll take. The stops along the way. Even the sightseeing we do. I want to share some of the lessons I'm learning as we plan for the journey to Honduras.

One of the trucks I've had with one of the car trailers.

Life's a Trade-off

Ever noticed how almost everything we do in life is a trade-off? Think about it. We trade adventure for security. Personal freedom for laws guaranteeing our safety. A bigger home for a bigger payment. The momentary pleasure of eating a donut for a bulge around the waistline. In my mind, all these are "negative" trade-offs. Well...except for the donut...maybe.

Sometimes though it's a sideways trade, like when you trade your old pair of cowboy boots, ones that are broken in, well worn, comfortable for a pair of new ones. The idea was to trade up, but it doesn't always work that way. The gain is offset by the loss. It's a wash.

And then there's the real deal. The true upgrade. Like trading the Geo Metro for the Mustang GT and paying cash...someone else's. It's like waking up to a beautiful, crystal clear, not a cloud in the sky morning when the weatherman has called for overcast with periods of heavy rain. It's the winning lottery ticket, received as a gag gift on your birthday from your skinflint friend.

So what should I call this trade? Beauty for the Beast? Appeal for Functionality? Out with the old, in with the new? Whatever it is, up, down or sideways, here's our new ride to Honduras. (below) A 2005 Chevy 3500 (1 ton) Express 15 passenger van.           Woo hoo!

Not only will we have more room while we drive the 4000+ miles, but when we get to Honduras we can use the van to: host short-term missions teams, give neighbors rides, use as an outreach, pull the well drilling rig, etc. We'll use the trailer to transport personal items we'll need once we get there. After that, we can use it to move all the paraphernalia needed to drill wells from site to site.  

There's another kind of trade-off, one we seldom see. It's the one that on the outside looks like a bad move, a raw deal, a real loser. But we're told by someone who's in the know, someone we trust, that it's one of those over the top kind of deals. A home run. A once in a life time opportunity. Like this one. Mat. 16:25, "For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." I don't know about you, but that does not sound like a trading up. How can trying to save or preserve my life result in losing it? Strangely, the Bible is full of these types of statements. Upside down, against the grain, nonsensical trades. Better to give than receive, the last shall be first, the greatest among you is the least among you. Paradoxes!

 
I try not to get overly "spiritual" in this particular blog, but spiritual is one of the reasons we're going to Honduras. In a sense my Quest continues. I really want to know; is this trade-off that Jesus, the Man in the know, says is the only way to actually experience Life...is this trade really the thing which gives life true purpose, meaning, fulfillment? If I try to hang on to my life am I really going to lose out on true Life? Maybe this is a better way to put it. If I trade my life for His Life am I really going to experience Life to the fullest? In the end, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?

Genetics

“You’re just like your father.” My wife tells me this quite often. Sometimes it's a statement, more often an accusation. Those used to be fightin’ words. Even the suggestion of such a possibility was vehemently denied. We tend to use this phrase to describe people. Sometimes it's in a positive way, but more often than not it isn't. As I have matured and undoubtedly become more like my father, I no longer feel the sting, the barb in those words like I used to. My father and I still do not see eye to eye on many things, but our relationship is good. Over the years we have argued heatedly, gone without speaking for two years (my choice) and have eventually agreed to disagree.  Through it all we have always loved each other and as the years have passed each of us has mellowed, fortunately.

In 1939 Winston Churchill said, “I cannot forecast to you the actions of Russia. It is a riddle, inside a mystery, wrapped in an enigma…” For years these words have described perfectly the way I have viewed my father and many of the choices he has made.  However, over the past several years I have gained a new appreciation for many of my father’s character traits. In some of these I have gone so far as to desire to emulate them in my own life. For example; my father has never been materialistic. As with all of life there is the positive and the negative, the pros and cons to everything. Where I am in life now, to be willing and able to easily let go of the things I surround myself with, would be a positive trait. Oddly, I am finding that more often than not, my treasure becomes my master…the thing that traps me rather than sets me free. My father has never struggled with holding any possession too tightly. Positive? I think so.

My father has never allowed other’s opinions or perceptions of him or his choices to influence the choices he has made. He has lived life on his own terms.  Positive? Yes and no, but on a purely intellectual level…positive. Dad has certainly not lead a "normal" life. The career, the two story house, two car garage thing bores him to death. Worrying about retirement or the future...never. Life with my father has always been an adventure. I have never seen him show fear, which on the negative side has lead us into some rather stressful situations. On the positive side, as my globe trotting friend Bob Beckett would say, "When the pain of the event is over, it's all about the stories." And do we have stories.

My father has always been an adventurer and a traveler. At the age of 15 he ran away from home and joined the Army, insisting that he was 18. Despite the fact that clearly he was not, the Army accepted him. After all they had a war to fight and men were men even if they were only boys. Jump school, paratrooper, Korea, wounded in action, marriage, the GI bill, Professor of Physics, children, much moving and traveling, more children, Pastor, entrepreneur, all are words that describe my father’s life.  Even when we did live in one spot, we were always on the move. Dad, at the age of 81, recently returned from a 2 week stay in Kenya. His third in the past several years. 500 miles from nowhere, living in a grass hut with his friend Rabson, his family and several of the orphans my father helps support, eating the same bland food they eat, sleeping on the same dirt floor they sleep on, crapping in the same hole they…well you get the picture. Yes, in so many ways, being “just like my father” is not such a bad thing.

My mother and father, Aug. 1952

And what of my mother? Born in a log cabin in the hills of Kentucky, a coal miner’s daughter, she was raised with a strong work ethic. Life was hard in Kentucky. Her grandmother slept with a .45 pistol under her pillow and “wasn’t a'feered of man nor beast”.  Her mother told stories of her own uncles, moonshiners and hunters, tough, hard men who often lived outside the law. Despite this same heritage, my grandfather, although far from perfect was good to his children. My mother still misses him.

When it came to travel, I never remember my mother ever complaining. She could get all six of us children packed and ready for a trip, which was often a spur of the moment event, faster than anyone I have ever known. And somehow, miraculously, there would always be fried egg sandwiches in the cooler when it was time for breakfast. (For some strange reason our trips always seemed to start at 1 in the morning.)  Mom was exceptional at making a home wherever we were. For her, home was where her husband and children where. Tonight, as we talked about our plans to move to Honduras, I saw the gleam of adventure in her eyes, heard her hinting that perhaps she would come with us. So am I also like my mother? Yes, in many ways and this too is not a bad thing.

My maternal grandparents, circa 1938

Genetics…say what you want. As far as I’m concerned, at least in some measure, we are part of all those who have gone before us. It is said, "It's all in the genes." Okay, maybe not all, but...   

If you believe, as I do, that God made each of us unique, each provided in a special way with God-ordained talents, personalities and yes, even genetics, for specific work in His kingdom…then should I really wonder why it is I long to go to faraway places? When I choose to live life different, should it come as a surprise when people find me...different? Should I care? My father wouldn't.  

Note: If you have bookmarked this blog, I have changed the web address to:

http://doinglifedifferent.blogspot.com/ 

Awake at 2 am

So, I'm wide awake at 2 am. My mind is in high gear...again. Yesterday I spent several hours trying to work through the details of driving from Maine to Honduras, through Mexico and Guatemala, with a vehicle pulling a trailer loaded with personal effects. Tourist visa, be sure it's marked "transmigrante". Temporary permit to import vehicle, be sure to cancel it when you leave the country or else... Border crossings, which one is the least dangerous, according to the State Dept.'s website...all are bad. And then there's the dog! Shots, checkups, forms, stamps, fees. All this just to cross into Mexico. What if I've forgotten some important document and when we get to Guatemala we can't leave Mexico. What if our car is hijacked? What if this is all a huge mistake? What if, what if, what if...........

So what if we just stay home and live an ordinary life? I've asked myself that question a dozen times. A hundred dozen times. Barbe and I have debated the issue until it's become worn-out, old, tiresome. In the end, we are choosing to live life different. What about all the what ifs? In the end there's only one way to find out, isn't there?

Well, looks like I'm back to blogging. I found that I really enjoyed it last time. My first attempt at blogging was a journal of our recent two month stay in Siguatepeque, Honduras. This one will follow us, The Wolfe Family, over the next several months as we get ready to leave for Honduras and the trip there. I guess I probably should explain how we got here, leaving Maine and heading for Honduras that is.

It's a long story. Probably too long for here anyway. I'll try to explain in bits and pieces. For now I 'll just say this. The reason we're going, if I'm really honest with myself, is part genetics, part environment, part faith, part boredom, part vision, part spiritual...hmmm. If I'm completely honest with myself and others, I'll refuse to put an entirely "spiritual" slant on it. It's easy to do that you know. And it looks really good...to some. The Great Commission. God's call on my life. Humanitarian efforts. Oh, don't get me wrong, I really believe in all that, but after 48 years I also know myself pretty well. I'm a traveler, an entrepreneur. I'm never satisfied with the status quo, always seeking a new challenge. So when people ask us why we're moving to Honduras, Barbe and I have decided to just say that we are moving to Honduras in the same way one might move to Portland or Chicago, but while we're there...let us tell you about some of the things we hope to do.

If you want to see some of the things we want to do while we are there, check out our new website. Oh, and by the way, we'd love to have you drop by for a visit, here or in Honduras. Seriously.

So anyway, as a family we've made the commitment to move to

Honduras for one year. During that time we will be evaluating the things we are doing, the experience, the worthwhileness, the finances. At the end of that time we'll either stay or return home...or move to Colorado? or Panama? Either way, there are big changes ahead of us. Renting out the house, placing my business on hold. Selling...oh yes, there's a lot of selling going on. Property, trailers, pickups, toys, campers, boat, junk and more junk (excuse me; other people's treasure just waiting to be discovered at our yard sale). Unbelievable the things we collect. At first it's hard to part with most of the things we're selling, but after a while you begin to feel...free. That tailgate for the 1979 Ford I once owned; it's now for sale on Craig's list. So is the '72 GMC pickup. After all, am I really ever going to get around to restoring it?

Daylight has come as I've sat here writing. Looks like it's going to be a superb day. A picnic with friends this afternoon at Small's Falls and fireworks to celebrate Independence Day (a day early) in Rangeley. It's been somewhat of a tradition for us over the years. But not next year. One more of the many changes in our future and one we'll miss.