6710 Grand

I never in my life thought I'd travel to Korea. Yet here I am in the VERY small town of Uljin (Ool chin). It is perhaps one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. I'm here with Nick--it's his new home. I know--crazy. But as anyone who's following knows, we never stay anywhere for long. This is our latest adventure. We've been in Arizona for three years--that's longer than anywhere else except for the places we were born. Time to move forward. I have experienced more in these last three days than perhaps the last year. I've tried new foods, stayed in weird hotels, met amazing people and seen a place that I hadn't known existed. I've felt the stares of the locals and heard their whispering as I walk by. I've never really felt like a minority before, but here, I most certainly am. Everyone knows we're not from around here. They can tell by looking at us. And they try to help. We were nearly stranded in a subway station without our luggag

Sure, I can carry a tune—if you hand it to me in a bucket, but really, I shouldn't. Not unless there's a crowd also singing that can drown me out. I don't really like to sing. In my car maybe, but that's it. It's the one part of church I really don't like—well, that and the part where I have to shake hands with people I don't know. It's supposed to be a time of worship. I get that. Singing to God… Rapture practice, one of my pastors used to call it. 'Cause that's what we're going to spend eternity doing, right?' Praise and worship. But does it have to be singing? I really hope not. I don't feel particularly close to God when I'm singing. Sometimes, maybe, but it isn't the song. It's Him. Something He's telling me or something we're doing together and there just happens to be music playing. Don't get me wrong—I LOVE music. I mean, I really love it. It gets into my soul and I can listen to the same song over and