I have struggled to find words to express what I thought and felt as I traversed the Holy Land. In sum, my pilgrimage was continually marked by this theme: God is forever faithful. He will do with us what He chooses, and on this journey, He chose to cultivate my patience and trust. His spirit, His presence, and His love are ubiquitous. We need only open our eyes to see it. 

The Western Wall, one of the holiest places on earth

Having studied abroad twice before, I can honestly say that my growth as a result of those trips utterly pales in comparison to the transformation I experienced in Israel. What a tremendous gift those ten days were. Yet, predictably, the joy and gratitude I feel cannot be fully summarized or related through the written word. One of the most persistent challenges of describing God’s love is the frequent failure of language to capture its textures, emotions, and effects. Through Israel, Jesus revolutionized my sense of self in the world. This cannot be encapsulated. 

What I can say is that Israel is a special place, and Passages is a special program. The trip was an undeserved blessing. It is difficult to explain what it is like to leave, change, grow, learn, and then return home, feeling more lost than I did prior to leaving. To clarify, it is not feeling lost that begets emptiness, but rather the feeling of a restless heart that yearns to see more of God’s beautiful creation. A dear friend of mine once said, “I now know that every second that I have been given is a gift, and I had to go half way around the world to discover that secret.” How true this is. 

While in Israel, I listened to a particular soundtrack by Hillsong United. Now—every time I listen—I am reminded of my time there, and I let the Holy Spirit flood my heart. In that moment, I know that no matter how formidable the obstacles are that lie ahead, however overwhelmed I am by the staggering problems that mire our world—my Father has made me a promise of salvation. His son Jesus was crucified—suffering an inconceivably agonizing death—so that I could experience that gift.

Garden of Gethsemane, a place of prayer that Jesus often retreated to for communion with his Father

            In the Garden of Gethsemane, this promise was indelibly transcribed upon my heart. I had the privilege to witness where Jesus’ feet walked, his knees knelt, his head bowed, his tears fell, and his heart yielded as he surrendered himself as a sacrificial offering for our sin. What a Savior. Ironically, the only word that comes to mind to describe my experience is ‘ineffable.’ Putting away my phone, I surrendered to the deep comfort of the Lord’s presence. One can only experience such a feeling when he completely disconnects and indulges wholeheartedly in prayerful meditation. So often, we have become accustomed to focusing on the beauty in front of us through the visual display of an artificially framed screen; yet in doing so, we separate ourselves from the tangible experiences before us—the sounds, the smells, the breeze, the soft chatter of voices, none of which are able to be replayed.

Reminiscing on those precious moments in the garden will always suffuse me with the peace that surpasses all understanding. And some day, God willing, I will return to the Holy Land, knowing that the Lord’s promises remain as true as they did when I first walked there. 

 Sea of Galilee, where Jesus walked on water

In March I arrived in Olomouc on a three-month study abroad excursion. The plan was rather simple: to explore Europe and enjoy myself before heading back to the United States and starting law school in the fall. Much of the three-months blew by in a blur of long lunches and late nights before I was able to ruminate on my marvelous adventure. But I learned broken Czech in a few weeks and fell in love with the Czech Republic even faster.

Now three months, 24 diverse cities, 12 different countries later, I can give a candid assessment of my time abroad.

 Český Krumlov, a small city in Southern Bohemia

"The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience." 

Sometime in late May, the shining sun announces that the coolness of spring has started to slide into the warmth of summer in Moravia, a region in eastern Czech Republic that straddles the borders of Poland, Slovakia and Austria. This geographically beautiful area that I have called home since early March is at its best in that glorious sun when the human eye can see clearly the vast, rolling hills and bucolic landscapes that abound. 

Moravia is a Unesco-protected heritage landscape, with historic architecture amid lush valleys and hills. 

My three months in the Czech Republic have offered innumerable moments of elation, laughter, and most of all, gratitude. 

A mere meditative blog post is not sufficient enough to provide an adequate reflection of my time in the Czech Republic but I shall give it my best. My enthusiasm, joy, and gratitude are immense, and I am simply unable to fully summarize or relate these feelings in words. One of the most persistent challenges of traveling for me is the frequent failure of language to capture its textures, emotions, and effects. Travel has revolutionized my sense of self in the world, more than I am able to write with precision.

While we were abroad, terror struck Brussels. In that moment, I had a decision to make. Here’s what I promised myself: I adamantly refuse to let senseless acts of terror affect my resolve to travel, to explore, and to keep engaging with the world at large. That is the story that we all must tell; the radical notion that we part of a single human family and that every life matters and has meaning. I believe travel opens one's eyes to the universalism of humanity, dissolves and destroys prejudices, and reminds us all of how precious our shared existence really is.

So here I am, back to where it all began: Omaha, Nebraska. I have traveled and seen more during my brief collegiate career than I ever imagined I would. And when my plane gently touched down on the tarmac amongst fields of corn in Nebraska, I was at peace. For I arrived at my favorite place in the whole world: home. 

So I will conclude with this: I hope my time abroad is, to both my readers and myself, a source of a few simple reminders: Time is limited. Life is miraculous. And mankind is beautiful. 

And so I go, closing this indelible chapter and moving onward to the next adventure. 

I think what I discovered most though is that the true beauty of life is in our fleeting moments—however majestic or mundane—because it is these simple moments that enable us to be. 

If ever I were to go abroad again, an experience more exhilarating and edifying can scarcely be imagined.

"Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

A quiet farm road in Central Bohemia

Just when I thought the Czech Republic couldn't possibly get any more beautiful, I was proved wrong yet again. Our week spent exploring the Bohemian countryside, a region outside of the bustling city of Prague, was truly one for the books. I was rewarded with extraordinary scenery, pastoral sights, and a bizarre, skeleton-chilling church. 

The picturesque countryside of Bohemia is what makes this region so enchanting. We started our visit in Litomyšl, a small town in eastern Bohemia. The richly decorated village was a sight to see. Our tour guide informed us that the town emerged in the 13th century on the site of an older fortified settlement along a trade route that served as an important link between the regions of Bohemia and Moravia. 

Our next stop was Kutná Hora, a lovely city in central Bohemia. The first place we toured was the famous Bone Church that looks like a normal church on the outside, but inside, the bones of approximately 40,000 to 70,000 plague victims eerily decorate the walls and ceiling. The chapel looks like the set of the Pirates of the Caribbean (though Johnny Depp was suspiciously absent).

St. Barbara's Church pictured above (not Bone Church)

Our last visit was to Český Krumlov, a fairy-tale town of roughly 15,000 that is buried in the hills of the southern Czech Republic. Its main charm stems from the simple fact that the village feels as old-fashioned and medieval as it looks. I read that the town is the second-biggest tourist magnet in the Czech Republic and after experiencing its simple beauty and distinctly medieval feel, I certainly understand why. The rugged woods and hilltop castles of Bohemia made me feel as if I was walking through a scene in the Lord of the Rings film. So many of us dream of experiencing these quaint places and I am traipsing through them. Even as I write this now it simply boggles the mind.

Český Krumlov from Castle viewing spot

The most memorable part of our trip to Český Krumlov was our rafting voyage down the Vltava River. The three-hour (or four hour in our case) float down the dreamy river, through Bohemian forests and villages, past pubs and campsites, was an absolute riot. I really could not think of a better way to end an unforgettable week in Bohemia. 

Our final stop, the grand finale, in my opinion, was our visit to the Hluboká Castle. This château is considered to be one of the most beautiful in all of the Czech Republic and it most definitely did not disappoint. We learned from our brief tour that the castle owes its current appearance to the Schwarzenberg family (the richest aristocratic family in the Czech Republic and one of the wealthiest in central Europe). It has 140 rooms and 11 towers and offers peeks inside lavish ceremonial halls and elegantly furnished rooms. The royal castle made for a royal visit indeed.

I am quite fond of quoting insightful writers and novelists, such as Gertrude Stein, who once said, "That Paris exists and anyone could choose to live anywhere else in the world will always be a mystery to me."

Paris is magnificent, but it is also crowded and cutthroat. The City of Light is the capital of art, fashion, food, literature, and more. It is said to be one of the world's most romantic cities, and I certainly found this to be true. 

The Louvre, Europe's oldest and greatest museum

We started our visit at the Château de Versailles, which has been on UNESCO’s World Heritage List for 30 years. This massive palace was the residence of French monarchs until the 1789 French Revolution. My favorite room came towards the end of the tour in the Hall of Mirrors. In the marvelous 250-foot-long Hall of Mirrors, 17 arched mirrors match the 17 floor-to-ceiling windows providing views to the royal garden. The tour also informed us this was the room in which the Treaty of Versailles was signed, ending World War I.

Later that evening we visited the Basilique du Sacré-Coeur (Basilica of the Sacred Heart), a massive Roman Catholic Church and wildly popular landmark in Paris, which is located at the top of the hill Montmartre. This hilltop is the highest point in the city, and offers incredible panoramic views of Paris. 

Next was the Notre Dame Cathedral Paris or Notre Dame de Paris (“Our Lady of Paris” in French), a Gothic cathedral located in the fourth arrondissement of Paris, France. It is Paris' most beloved church, with two lofty towers and gargoyles galore. As a Catholic, I could not wait to visit this splendid Cathedral. It was glorious and grand and vaguely reminded me of the St. Vitus Cathedral in Prague (though Notre Dame happened to be much busier).

Westminster Abbey, the Eiffel Tower, the Sistine Chapel — these are some of the many reasons tourists come to Europe. The Eiffel Tower, one of the most iconic Parisian landmarks, did not disappoint. In fact, it was even more spectacular in person. I learned it was built in 1889 and is named after the engineer Gustave Eiffel who submitted the idea and design to the French government. Originally, it was built to serve as the entrance to the World’s Fair and was at the time the world's largest tower. The tower was going to be demolished in 1909, but was saved because it was repurposed as a huge radio antenna.

We ended our trip to Paris viewing a soft sunset from the Esplanade du Trocadér. This is one of the best views of the Eiffel Tower. We sat with a calm breeze at our backs as we watched it twinkle in the twilight. One of the many things I've discovered while abroad is the fulfillment that comes with simply being present. For that moment, my mind, heart, and body were completely content. No thoughts or words distracting me, nothing clouding my judgment, I sat in serenity and watched as the tower sparkled in the distance, captivated by a giant iron structure encircled by an endless array of city lights. 

Note: this view is from the Champ de Mars not Trocadér

Kraków is a hidden gem. It is a beautiful, charming, old-fashioned city that has a striking similarity to Prague. In addition to its magnificent baroque architecture, Kraków intoxicates one with its romance. It has an endless array of city performers and countless street vendors and eateries. The historic hilltop where the Wawel Castle sits was splendid. It featured the castle, the Wawel Cathedral (Poland’s nation church), a lush courtyard, and several museums.

Before sightseeing the city, we explored the Wieliczka Salt Mine, a vast, thousand-foot-deep mine with nine levels and over 100 miles of tunnels. After our three-hour tour of the mine, our docent informed us we had surveyed only 1% of the total mine. The mine’s massive underground church, carved in the early 20^th century, was quite neat. Interestingly, the church is still used for Mass today.

Located in Old Town, the Main Market Square is easily one of Europe’s most vibrant public spaces. As I traipsed around the square, I felt as though I was living in the Old World. A bonus: Poland is one of Europe’s least expensive countries, and thus an indulgence in a pivo is obligatory. The square is quite grand but also retains a folksy intimacy.

St. Mary’s Church (pictured below) was one the many highlights of our visit. According to the Pew Research Center, approximately 92 percent of Polish citizens are Catholic. This makes them the most religious country in Europe. While today Poland’s people are overwhelmingly Catholic, this was not always the case. In fact, before World War Two a quarter of Krakow’s population was Jewish.

We ended our visit to Kraków at Oskar Schindler’s enamel factory. The factory offered us a time travel through the city’s history. Oskar Schindler was a German industrialist and former member of the Nazi Party who saved the lives of over a thousand Polish Jews by employing them at his factory.

I found myself particularly moved at Schindler’s Factory. Perhaps because one of the classes I am a student in is largely focused on the Holocaust. In addition to this class, I am also reading Man’s Search For Meaning, by Viktor Frankl, an Austrian neurologist and psychiatrist as well as a Holocaust survivor. Our visit felt as if it was the culmination of my somewhat suppressed frustrations and profound sadness.

There was a quote from Frankl’s book that haunted me as I walked through the factory: “I shall never forget how I was roused one night by the groans of a fellow prisoner, who threw himself about in his sleep, obviously having a horrible nightmare. Since I had always been especially sorry for people who suffered from fearful dreams or deliria, I wanted to wake the poor man. Suddenly I drew back the hand which was ready to shake him, frightened at the thing I was about to do. At that moment I became intensely conscious of the fact that no dream, no matter how horrible, could be as bad as the reality of the camp which surrounded us, and to which I was about to recall him.”

Our guide explained to us that Mr. Schindler was a womanizer and, from an early age, quickly inhabited a world of sin. These imperfections and flaws, while certainly not laudable, humanized the man. If he was able to save a thousand souls and see the immense darkness of Nazism, then so might we. Darkness overwhelms this world but so too does light. I find a deep comfort in knowing the latter will ultimately prevail.