It has now been two weeks since the Virginia Tech shooting (I refuse to call it a massacre like the sensationalized press). I, like every other blogger on the web, of course was tempted to blog about this the second after this happened. But I, unlike every other blogger on the web, decided to wait two weeks. Why? Because what I am about to say was probably too emotionally charged to say the minute after it happened, but now seems a little more realistic (although still probably somewhat extreme). The Virginia Tech shooting is a non-event.

WOAH! You have got to be kidding me. You are nuts. You are so insensitive. You are ridiculous! Are those pretty much your thoughts? Well, give me a second and maybe I will make some sense. If I don't, you are welcome to think I am ridiculous.

Before I go further, I do not want to minimize the pain of those that were personally affected by this event. The families, direct friends, and students deserve our prayers and our sympathy. But the sensationalism the media, and if we are honest, ourselves, had/have turned that event into is almost just as much of a tragedy because it lacks perspective. And why do we lack perspective? Because we are self-centered and we all either are going to college, are in college, went to college, or have kids going to college.

Let's take a look at perspective for a second.

• In 2000 there were 850,293 abortions in the US. That's 2,329 deaths each day, or 77x as many deaths per day as the VTech shootings. Ok, so now you think I am a crazy right-wing nut job. Well hold on.
• In 2006, 2.9 million people died of AIDS, which is 7,900 per day (or 264x that of VTech). 1,041 of those 7,900 deaths per day are innocent children.
• Every year 15 million children die of hunger, or 41,095 per day - that's 1370x that of VTech.
• So just out of those three statistics, we see that 51,324 people die per day that are reasonably treatable and I consider a "tragic death."

Now some of you are probably on the same page with me; others still think I am a nut job. One more thing. I think the American culture proves that VTech is a non-event. Why? Because just two weeks later we have pretty much forgotten about this. It no longer graces the front pages of MSNBC.com, FoxNews.com and CNN.com. In addition to that, how many of us remember the Amish School shooting back in November. Or better yet, that there have been 36 school shootings since 1996. In a month, this will be completely a non-event.

So why is this a non-event? Because we are self-centered. We only care about what we think will happen to us or our family. This is why we don't really care about the alarming statistics of unnecessary death around the world. It is also why at first we appear to care about things like VTech more than anything else, but in the end, we retreat back to our realization that we are really quite safe, our college students are safe, and we've got life pretty good. So since our Darwinian instinct of survival is back in tact, we put these memories into our past as tragic, but essentially incurious.

I will write more about the whole experience later, but I wanted to post that I bought a new car this week. I turned in the Ol'Girl with 191,699 miles on her, and traded her in for a younger, sexier New'Girl with 12 miles.

I have to admit, I was a little sad. In fact, I commented to Tiffany in the showroom and told her that I think I was more sad to see this car go then I was when my mom told me she sold my childhood home. And then I began to think about all the things that happened in that car:

• Taking my driver's test and getting my license
• My First "Real" High School Date - with Emily
• My First Speeding Ticket (who knew that would grow to 8 speeding tickets, in 5 states, and 2 countries)
• Coming Home from High School Graduation and having Scotty moon the band bus in front of us, not knowing his sister was probably on that bus
• Jumping the railroad tracks by CJ's house at 45 mph and getting "wicked air."
• Moving Out to College
• Driving down to the O.C. in college and hanging out on the beach
• Visiting Over 40 states in it
• Tons and tons of road trips with friends that were such a blast
• Going from Fort Wayne to Seattle for New Years 2002 and then down to Los Angeles
• All the trips to the airports to travel to 19 countries
• Driving into Mexico with CJ, Andrea & Kelly, and then as soon as I crossed the border, realizing I have no clue how to get back to the States and everything was in Spanish (which I don't know)
• The Infamous LA-NYC-LA New Years 2005 trip that was by far the worst road trip I ever took
• Driving cross country to my first real job to start my "career"
• Pulling up at Cobb County Airport for my first pilots license
• Countless other experiences

Ohh well, now you can see why I was a little sad to see her go and realize I will never drive her again. I will miss driving will the windows down, with the wind blowing through my hair, listening to the radio super loud and driving way faster then I should. But it's not so much the car I guess, but rather all the amazing things that have happened in just 9 short years.

Here's to new memories in the new car though - which hopefully will include a date that will involve a proposal, driving to the church to get married, and bringing home my first child (I also wouldn't mind making my first million while owning it as well ;) ).

You can check out the photos: http://www.2timothy42.org/Photos/v/NewCar_2007HondaCivic/

Today was an exciting day. It was a day I have been waiting for at least the last five years. I took my first flight as a pilot. For those of you who think I am a nerd, you're right, but I am going to give you the details anyways.

I flew a Cessna Skyhawk 172S, with a Garmin 1000 Full Glass Cockpit. I spent three hours at the Cobb County Airport - McCollum Field (RYY). I am doing my flight instruction with Premier Flight School and it is located just outside of Kennesaw, GA.

I was amazed how much my flight instructor (Chris) let me do on the very first flight. I had a minor problem while taxing (which you do with your feet) keeping the plane on the center line. Then we were cleared for takoff, and he turned to me and said, "alright, line her up on the runway and apply full throttle." I never thought I would get to do that on the first flight. He told me Vr was 65 knots (speed you initially pull up) and V2 was 80 knots (speed you are cleared to leave the ground). I taxied onto the runway 9, applied full throttle and we were off.

I climbed to 3500 feet and then trimmed off and kept an approximate heading of 90°. We headed straight for my church: Mount Pisgah. Once leveled, speed topped off at 105 kts (which had a ground speed of 120 kts, which translated to MPH is about 130). Once to Mount Pisgah, I immediately banked to the right to a heading of about 210° to fly over my apartment. Once there, we maintained a gradual turn to Altoona Lake.

Once to Altoona Lake, it was time to prepare for landing. I headed for the airport at with a heading of 135°. Once within about 5 miles from the airport, I banked right to a heading of 180°. It was at this point that I figured he would take controls, but he didn't. As I approached the flight line of runway 9 at RYY, I banked to left for a heading of 90°, lined up with the runway, extended flaps first to 10° and then once below 85 kts extended them completely. I slowed to about 70 kts and began descent. He let me fly to about 300 feet above the ground (which is approximately 1 mile from touchdown and approximatively 1300' feet above sea level) and then he took controls. He landed the plane and I taxied back to the hanger.

Some of my initial thoughts. Taxing is harder then you would think, but I sort of expected that. Flying was easier than I thought. It felt so natural. My flight instructor said I did a great job maintaining altitude (which is usually a steep learning curve for most) and it was apparent I had a great start.

It was weird being "in control" for the first time on a flight. When I first flew on a private plane for work, I remember thinking how the "turbulence" felt different than on a big plane. The plane I flew today felt like the other private aircraft I flew in before, but being the pilot made it feel strikingly more in control.

Well I have written enough I guess. It was fun. I am excited. And I am hoping to have my license completed by August. So everybody look to the skies, it might be me ;-)

I am in Chicago O'Hare airport right now. About five minutes ago I passed the gate I departed out of when I left for school at APU. Right now I am passing a gate I arrived at from LA, 8 days after September 11th, 2001. I am heading for the gate I departed to Israel for my study abroad (which is oddly being used as a gate to Atlanta). All this takes me back to my first international trip: France, I was in 8th grade and I was 14 years old.

Thinking about this makes me crack up a little inside. Since that trip I have been in 17 other countries and flown close to 200,000 miles. What a difference 200,000 miles & 17 countries make.

My first trip to France was with about 40 other middle school students. If memory serves me correct, we agreed to the trip in October and left in June. I remember being in at least 4 meetings before we left. I can remember taking probably a good week to pack and "gather the essentials." I remember going to the bank in downtown Fort Wayne with my Dad and exchanging US money into French money. I even remember receiving my first Passport.

This trip was pretty much the opposite. I traveled by myself (although I met up with 30 APU students). I agreed to the trip in late February and departed the first of April. I had one 15 minute phone meeting. Packing took me all of 15 minutes to complete. As far as money, well, I took $40 bucks in US cash, a credit card and an ATM card and I figured I would be ok (which I was). My now worn passport was sitting cosily in my desk drawer. I knew I was going to need to stay in a hotel as well one night and I didn't even have that booked until I hoped off my plane in Tokyo on the way back and walked up to the information desk and said, "I need to book a hotel room for tonight." Quite the contrast.

I think in part this is because I have more money now, and strangely, when traveling, money is like freedom. Take for instance the hotel. I just thought to myself, worse comes to worse, I'll just book a room at the Hyatt or Hilton or wherever has an vacancy for whatever price. But I think there is more to it than just money, and that brings me back to O'Hare.

My first time in O'Hare alone was when I was 15 and I was flying to visit my grandparents in Denver. I didn't even have an escort. If I wanted to, I could figure out how many times since then I have flown through O'Hare (but I am too lazy). But all that travel builds confidence and it makes me realize a.) how small this world really is, and b.) everywhere is pretty much the same in operation but vastly different in experience.

What I mean by point b. is that a train in Japan is like a train in Europe, which is like a train in America. A bus ride in Japan is like a bus ride in America. The airport terminal in Japan is exactly like Australia, which is pretty much the same in America. Making a hotel reservation is the same everywhere, some just cost more. There's really nothing to fear when traveling abroad other than the experience you might miss by not doing so. So if you got the time and money: get traveling!

(P.S. The first photo is a group of my (at the time) friends after we checked through security at O'Hare on our way to France. The second photo is of me rubbing the belly of a GIANT Buddha statue near Kamasura.)

It's 5:12 am "locally" (locally here is defined as 35,000 feet over Whitehorse, Canada). It is now the second time this day (April 14th) I have experienced 5 am. Traveling over the International Date line is weird. I actually will arrive in Chicago before I took off in Japan. Take that Back to the Future. I am just sitting down after an hour conversation with a Marine named Mark, who apparently is also super claustrophobic on planes like I am and decided to stand back with the flight attendants for an hour.

Mark was reading a book on Philosophy when I first started talking to him, and I later found out he had served in Iraq twice and Afghanistan once. We talked about everything from the historical context of the problems in the Middle East, to traveling the world, to our homes, and what we want to do with the rest of our life. It was a good hour.

One thing I brought up with him was an observation I had made about Japan while there: I wish Europe was more like Japan. I loved Japan. These are words I never thought I'd say. In fact, in all my extreme desire to travel, traveling to the Far East never really interest me. This changed on this trip. I could go many different routes with this, but I am going to stick with one.

About 51 years ago, the USA dropped two Atomic bombs on Japan. They were our enemy, and we were in a bitter, bloody fight and we decided this was the best course of action to save lives. You would think there was some modern day resentment by the Japanese, but there was none. Contrast to Europe, who would all be speaking German right now if it weren't for our help, and they hate our guts. So let me get this straight: here we have a country where we killed innocent men, women, and children, and they were the most friendly, warm, "American" place I have been to (except Israel was more "American, but that's another story).

I just don't get it. Transition to a conversation between Hoey (APU student) and a part-Japanese kid on the trip whose Grandfather fought against America in WW2. He proceeds to tell us that his Grandfather even admits it was good for America to use the A-Bomb as it probably saved Japanese lives. Hoey proceeds to tell him that it was/is never ok for us to do something like this and I step back and think: man this is strange.

We have built so much "white/American guilt" that we hate ourselves more than those we wronged do. Why? Why can't we recognize that if we have been forgiven and the Japanese have moved on, why can't we? Better yet, why can't anyone but the Japanese recognize that America is not perfect, but that we are a good country, trying to do good in the world.

America has done some historically awful stuff. But we have also done some great things (long before Bono & Jolie ever stepped on to the scene). So why are we hated? Why are we ashamed sometimes of our international presence? Why when the countries in which we "affect" are better off then if left alone, do we get accused of imperalization?

Historically speaking, most of what is turbulent in the Middle East is Europe's fault. Whether it was the English drawing country lines without consideration of indigenous people & tribes, or German's forced exile of the Jews back to the Middle East, the problems we are trying to rectify were created by Europe. So it ends now. I've said all along Iraq will be a better place for Iraqis because of our involvement, and I won't feel guilty about that. Let's just hope the Iraqis are more like their Asian counterparts and less like Europe.


You can listen to similar thoughts I shared on our radio show this weekend by pushing the play button above. The entire show can be found at http://www.allenhuntshow.com/Listen/189/

If I were to guess, I am at about 37,000 feet, halfway back from Okinawa to Tokyo. This morning I boarded a ferry by myself, leaving a team I had grown to love behind on an island off of Okinawa in order to get back to Atlanta by Sunday.

The ferry we took to over to the island was slow. The trip took an hour and 45 minutes. But at least the day was nice; a good day to be out at sea. The ferry I took this morning was fast: same trip took 25 minutes. But the weather was overcast and the water was choppy.

I loved the ride though. There is nothing like being on the East China Sea (as long as you don't get sea sick). Now I can't describe the breath taking view from the boat (a picture doesn't do it justice), but there reached a point where we lost visual contact with the island and Okinawa. Nothing but water and clouds. It was beautiful. It made me realize how this never happens: to have essentially nothing in sight. Now I have done a lot of cross country travel and their are times when traveling through New Mexico sure feels like this, but it isn't. There are still mountains, roads, birds, vegetation, etc... But not this morning. This morning there was nothing. This morning all there was, was water and gray clouds as far as the eye could see (which wasn't too far).

It's weird how isolation can feel so warm. It was lightly raining and I was standing outside. It wasn't particularly warm, but not cold either: it was perfect. It's obviously damp, but I am not really wet. It's serene.

It makes me realize how little time I take to rest. Sure, I on average sleep about 10 hours a day, but as soon as I am up, I am UP: full-tilt. How sad is it that devotions, prayer, and quite reflection have been replaced by ministry, work, and bouncing from one event to the next because heaven forbid I miss something with friends.

Even now at 37,000 feet, I look out my window and we are above a blanket of clouds. There's nothing. But in the cabin the flight attendants are running around, a movie is playing on the screen, and I am writing this. It's not like the boat. When I return to Atlanta, I think I need to get off the "plane" and live more on the "boat."

If I were to guess, I bet I am at 33,000 ft about halfway from Tokyo on my way to Okinawa. I spent two days in Tokyo with about 30 APU students I didn't know and one college professor I knew very well. Even though I don't/didn't know these students, all I can say is: it's good to be back.

A couple rows over some are having the same pretentious conversations I had in college (I think this one is about whether or not the British version of the The Office or the American version is more "legit"). I have to say, I miss this. Even if it slightly errors on the arrogant and pompous, it is this type of conversation I rarely have anymore. Conversation that for whatever reason seems to have the balance of the world at stake, but in reality has nothing at stake.

Somehow these conversations always got back to faith (don't ask my how). Whether it is the critique of U2 music in relation to racism in America, or the Simpson's take on a theological concept Karl Barth and C.S Lewis would disagree on: it was/is always meaningful.

My thoughts drift back to Atlanta and how very little of my conversation sounds like this, and it saddens me. Most conversations I have now are about Bulldog football (which never seems to migrate to faith; except when someone brings up how cute Mark Richt is and then someone else chimes in about how strong of a Christian he is).

There is a good chance I am going to do this trip every year (and maybe a trip to Indonesia and the Philippines as well) with APU students I won't know. Something tells me it will always fee a little like home.

I am now back in the States, but I am going to release the next couple of blogs about the experience a couple of days apart to allow all the opportunity to read. I will also have an entry summarizing the trip at the end.

Also, you can find photos here (more to come though)

I am three hours into a fourteen hour flight from Chicago to Tokyo. According to the personal TV screen I have in front of me, I am currently at 34,000 feet near Fort McMurray, Canada. Three minutes ago, on that same screen, I just got done watching the movie Blood Diamonds, and I think I have found yet another reason why I won’t be getting married.

Unlike other posts, this reason isn’t because of my observations of the opposite sex. No, I think this new reason, is because I am adding another trait to Andy Borgmann that I believe most women are going to decide is not very appealing. I don’t think I can ever buy a diamond.

If you haven’t seen the movie, you need to. The basic summary is it is about how the insatiable Western demand for diamonds (and capitalistic greed) is leading to civil war in many Middle-African countries. The best line in the movie (which I might be botching up) is when in response to being accused as part of the problem because she too probably dreams of a fairy tale wedding, a female reporter says, "Most girls wouldn’t want a diamond if they knew it cost someone else’s hand." I think that is an appropriate statement.

There was another great line in the movie. An African tribal man said, "Let’s hope they don’t find oil here, because then we will be in real trouble." Bam, another slap in my Western, Capitalistic face; especially since I know how much fuel this flight I am on is consuming. But what I think separates oil from diamonds is this: oil’s conflict is based on the fact oil is a commodity (heck it’s cheaper than bottled water). Diamonds conflict are based on the fact they are a luxury. Eventually, I think oil will bring stability to the region of the Middle East (I know, ya’ll think I am crazy). Diamonds will never do this. Diamonds are a luxury item, and the demand will always be priced that way, which means it will always be highly lucrative, and therefore, conflict stricken.

At the end of the movie it challenges everyone to buy "conflict-free" diamonds. But even conflict free diamonds benefit from the insatiable materialism that is associated with "conflict-ridden" diamonds. In the end, at Tiffany’s or Zales, they are all the same.

So as I sit in my premium economy seat aboard United #881, I am fighting back tears (after all, I don’t want the attractive girl next to me to think I am a Nancy boy). But then again, I guess it doesn’t matter because she would never be attracted to a guy who probably won’t buy her a diamond.