I know that you don’t come to a photoblog for words, so I apologize for this post. For some reason I feel like I should share some of these experiences in words. Don’t read it if you don’t have time. On the other hand, I’d love some feedback, since I do enjoy writing.
Returning travelers know that conversations regarding their travels often include the question, “What was the highlight?” or some form of this question. I will try to tell you a story that stands out as the highlight. Not in an absolute way, because there is no good way to nail down the most pleasant experience in a scientific manner. However, there is no doubt that this story I am about to tell you is the event that stands out as the most pleasant sensual experience. Not sensual in the way of sinful indulgence, but in the more purely etymological sense.
It was an evening in France. We were staying in an old monastery in the mountains above the Alsace-Lorraine region, near the border of Germany. We sat down to dinner, tired from a day of traveling. I managed to be fortunate enough to share a table with Dan, a full-time counselor of more than ten years. We had a wonderful discussion on our table about “border personality disorders”.
In my humble opinion, the meal that evening was the best of the whole trip. First of all, we were served a thinnish soup that slid down nicely. It was followed by a wonderful dish of pasta. However, it was the generous cut of beef that made this experience memorable. It was a culinary masterpiece, a symphony of tastes and spices, blending together in a harmony that made me feel like closing my eyes and ascend into a permanent state of transcendence. 
The meat was juicy and tender to the center and was uninhibited by over-seasoning. The best piece of meat I’ve ever had. It was followed by a piece of custard pie with a half of a pear embedded in the center. Not bland, not too rich. Perfect. The French can cook. No doubt about it.
I pushed back from the table and sighed. We were in a large hall with high ceilings and elegant plaster work. The group sang for ten minutes or so. I’m not a musician by any stretch of the imagination, but there is something about good acoustics that brings confidence and cohesiveness out of mediocre singers. It was the best singing on tour. The halls rang. Free from the uncertainty that often plagues me when singing, I was able to sing without inhibition and focus on worship.
I strolled out the porch just outside the dining hall, and caught my breath.
Literally.
I don’t do that much.
As the soft breeze caressed my face, I soaked in the panorama in front of me. I could describe it in words but I have picture and it it’s worth a thousand adjectives.
A beautiful couple from Sweden was enjoying the view as well. I am continually amazing by the kindness and genuine interest I’ve received from strangers as I travel. I have enjoyed countless conversations from people, throughout this trip,some are natives and some are fellow travelers.
After a pleasant walk with a large group of friends, a smaller, less sleepy group of us recongregated on the wrap-around platform. This time facing the town of Strasbourg. The lights glittered golden in contrast to the blue twilight engulfing us.
There is something captivating about people and their stories. So we shared as the blue light faded to black.
Dreams, shattered dreams, pain, our journey, God’s light on our journey, challenges.
How does one react to such an overwhelming evening of beauty of sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch? Beyond that, the relationships, the wonderful people that God has sent into my life? Why does God shower so much on one evening? More importantly why so much on one person? The most ludicrous explanation is that I deserve it in any way.
I have no reasons. There is no apparent reason that why the world is offered to me, and the child born with HIV in Tanzania is given hell on earth.
“Two things pierce the human heart, pain and beauty.” - John Eldridge
My heart has been pierced by beauty.
Benji Mast’s Photoblog