I see you, Africa.

If you read my last post, you may be expecting stories from my Spanish church or conversation class, but I must put that on hold to tell you of this day:

Tarifa, Spain. Morocco, Africa.

My day began with avena, cafe and these words: "Cast your burden on the Lord and he will sustain you, he will never permit the righteous to be moved." I thought about that word, "righteous," for quite some time. My heart rested that labor-free title.

Then to the bus station I went! My madre packed me a sandwich. Actually, three. One with cheese, one with salami and one with tomatoes and lettuce. Again, when in Espana. :-) Oh, I also got two fruits in my sack lunch and some half-milk, half-orange/mango juice drink. Interesting. I dare say tasty.

Now because I live in the mountains, this bus ride was no straight-shot. I wondered if "not being moved" meant the same thing as "not tumbling down a mountain going 90 kilos per hour in a sketchy standard shift bus." Well, it really didn't matter because the beauty of what I saw I won't even attempt to describe. Here is a photo, though:

The ride home was even better. The sun was setting. I didn't even take photos of that, though, because that array of color dressing the mountains would just never translate (more on that later).

Okay, so, we arrived in Tarifa. I will let the photos do the talking. Although most of my time on the beach was spent in solitude, it wasn't spent alone. Then in the actual city, my time was shared with my new Polish friend Dobrochna.

Did I mention earlier that, in that first photo, the peak in the back is Morocco? Just checking. Now, Tarifa is the southern most point in Spain. From some parts of the city I actually saw houses in Morocco. How crazy (my point and shoot couldn't quite capture that). A ferry ride only takes 35 minutes. I honestly think it is very possible for the average joe to swim on over. I wonder if people do that?! Tarifa is very African-y. There is a lot of Morrocan and Islamic influence here along with what seemed to me to be a lot of Hindu or Buddhist influence. Then, as you will see, there was a Catholic cathedral. Here are some of the photos:

The ride home. Oh, the ride home. Man, it was full. I listened to music from Redeemer and the Village Church, which was beyond good. But that didn't even touch the thoughts that flowed from that time. Of all the beautiful things that I saw and the ways they reflected the unbelievable beauty and love of God, I thought, he choose us. The sunset I can't describe, nor can I communicate the beauty in seeing Morocco from Spain, finding little treasures in Tarifa's antiquity, mountains behind mountains behind mountains, trees I have never seen, nature, and on and on. But my heart only cried when I was somehow reminded that over all these things God though it best to reveal his glory by creating man in his own image. Me. And you. And no, I don't see this is me nor do I see it in you. But I see it in that man Jesus. And because of that, more than the mountains and stars and sky and sea and sunsets, God is glorified in all with Jesus in them. And Jesus will live joyfully in all who ask. Now, this is that word I was thinking of earlier: righteousness.

Before I left for Spain, I saw a quote by CS Lewis in a friend's room: "You do not have a soul, you are a soul. You have a body." (Job 10:11).