Luxor

This past weekend was spent walking amongst some of the oldest known ruins in the world. We visited the Valley of Kings and walked through the eloquent tombs built to protect and guide pharaohs on their journey into the afterlife. The weekend also involved some necessary relaxation, reading, and hours spent lounging by our hotel’s beautiful rooftop pool. Needless to say, I love my time in Egypt, I am often overwhelmed by what I have seen, and I am extremely thankful for the amazing people accompanying me on this journey. Though I could spend paragraphs describing the wonders of ancient Egyptian temples, the soaring obelisks still towering like weary soldiers, the sturdy pillars reaching hundreds of feet towards heaven, and the intricate carvings depicting the historical conquests of long dead pharaohs, I was struck by something deeper as I wandered through the remains of this ancient civilization. From my very first moments in Egypt I have been struck and humbled by a rich, subtle and complex feeling of history. Growing up in an American society that is increasingly ahistorical, or, at the very worst, quick to believe that all of human history began and ended with the U S of A, it is always refreshing to be reminded of the vast history of the human race. This feeling has permeated my thoughts on faith, the Church, politics, and my role as a young American trying to reconcile his place in the world.

Paths unfold beneath my feet.
But like a ball of string
I never seem to roll back into my original form.