I recently returned from Africa, Kenya to be exact. I took my 15-year-old son with me.

I've been getting a lot of questions about my experiences over there. "What amazing experiences did you have?" And even more challenging, "How did it change your life?"

Well, my friends, I want you to know that those questions have been surprisingly difficult to answer. Surprisingly.

I have seen more than my share of the world. If you listen to the podcast, you know that both Kari and I have owned well-worn passports.

I want to tell you a quick story. (It is another religious story, so if that is not your cup of tea, I will not be offended if you close this blog and go watch YouTube.) I was 16 years old when I flew to Quito, Ecuador, leaving my family behind to work at an orphanage for the summer. At the time it felt like a big risk. It felt like growing up. And for a religious kid like me, it felt like a test of my faith.

You see, even though I spent my youth inside my family's Baptist church every time the doors were open, I always felt like a religious failure. I felt like there was something wrong with me. I thought maybe God didn't like me very much... or maybe, my soul just didn't work like all the other Sunday school kids. Everyone else seemed to be able to believe so easily and for me, I always felt like I was pretending.

Wow. Sorry. Way too much backstory.

So I went to Ecuador on a great spiritual adventure with one goal: To fix my soul! Was I inherently broken or might God finally place the gift of faith inside me? And where better to learn that than serving orphans at a missionary outpost in the Andes mountains.

Let me skip to the end. When all was said and done... Nothing happened. After that summer away, my soul worked the same and I had had no life-changing experiences with God.

The reason I told you this story is this... When I got back home to my Baptist church, the pastors insisted that I come on stage on Sunday morning in front of EVERYBODY I knew and while I stood there, hiding behind the large black-foam-covered microphone, the pastor urged me, "Young man, tell us how did your faith grow in Ecuador? How was your soul transformed? How did God change your life?"

And way back then, at 16-years-old, I did the only thing that religion had trained me to do: I played the devout young "believer". In other words, I LIED. I lied and lied and lied and lied. I told everyone exactly what they wanted to hear: triumphant stories of radical transformation.

Ok. So how was my trip to Africa? It was nice. Maybe even really nice. A nice experience. Lots of work. Lovely spending time with my son (though nothing I can definitely call "transformative").

And no, I can't say my life was changed. I won't lie. I won't pretend. Take that First Baptist Church of Eugene! Ha!

. . . . .

On the last podcast, Kari and I discussed several topics and one was about finding meaning in the little things. We talked about intentionality and building ceremony into the small and uncluttered things we do every day.

When I walked the Camino de Santiago, I thought I would be transformed by walking by the light of sunrise, while feeling unfettered unity to Mother Nature. I thought everything would be changed by entering soaring cathedrals and by meeting the most astonishing people.

And upon my return, people asked me, "How did God change your life?"

The truth is, I still don't know if God did.

3 years since my Camino, here's what I do know:

I miss the 30 minutes I had to spend each morning tending to my deeply damaged feet in the dark. I miss a man I met who was the most delightfully average of people and I pray that our paths cross again someday.

And tomorrow? Well, tomorrow... I am going to wake up and try to find meaning in the quiet steps it takes to make coffee for my wife and son.