Austin Price & Mindy Spyker
Austin: I was born and raised in Houston, Texas, but have since followed a winding road to Atlanta, GA. After three semesters in St. Louis, a few months in Turkey, a semester in West Africa, and countless hours on the highway, I now happily call Atlanta home, where I attend Emory University. God has blessed me with an interest in all forms of storytelling – fiction and nonfiction, video and photography, song and dance, and whatever else. I love traveling, running, biking, mountaineering, playing guitar or mandolin or harmonica, and having random conversations in unlikely places. Writing has proven to be a perfect medium for my personal reflection, and I am happy to share my words with others. Mindy: The mountains delight me, and the colors of the morning sky mesmerize me. It's easy to get lost in the beauty of creation. Lately I've been aiming to live more like Mary than Martha, learning to love my Creator as my God. So sing me a song, and I'll say that's just fine. Let us worship together. If I could make a joyful noise, I would. I can't, so I'll write a joyful noise instead. I'll write and I'll love, and I'll pray when I can. Now and forever: blessed be His name.
And he withdrew from them about a stone's throw, and knelt down and prayed, saying, "Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done." And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.
– Luke 22:41-44 –
Austin's storm, from Mindy's watchtower.
Rain pours abundantly in West Glacier. The one thing about this little town I'll remember most is its sudden thunderstorms. They come and go in a flash, barely disrupting the seventeen daily hours of summer sunlight yet leaving a lasting effect on the greenery and coolness in the air.
Of Morning Light: A Poem.
With everything in West Glacier still being relatively new to us, there are many mountains left to climb in terms of making this place our home for the summer. New jobs, friendships, routines; living in a new climate, running at a new altitude. It all feels like the ascending steps on uneven ground – each step is stressing and painful but altogether mixed with the joy of going up and up.
"Jesus, you said yourself the water you pour, you pour out everlasting. It’s living because you live. Fill me now, and fill me always, wherever I may go."
David Degler’s voice crackled through my computer speakers. I couldn’t hear much. The sounds of Senegal poured in through the window of the concrete-walled room and invaded my rare moment of solitude.
This is a blog written by two to be read by many. We want to introduce ourselves to you, and we thought we’d tell you why we accepted the near impossible task of documenting, processing, and ultimately sharing our summer as ACMNP volunteers in this way.