Saturday- Part 2

Patmos is beautiful.  Only 3,000 people live on the island.  Some really famous people have homes here but aren’t permanent residents (Clooney, one of the English princes, and some actresses I’ve never heard of but most everybody else in the world knows them well).  Our guide was born here and her mom still lives here.  Her accent was mesmerizing.  She sounds like she could do a female Siri voice if they have one for Patmos. 

As we zig-zagged our way up the mountain, we passed the school.  It was “Sports Day” which looked like what we know as Field Day.  The two biggest sports in Greece are soccer and basketball.  We reached the top of the island where a monastery/church is located.  As you would expect, the name of this one is St. John’s monastery.  I’ve noticed that most every island has a monastery on the highest spot.  These monks have some phenomenal real estate. 

After touring the monastery, we made our way down the mountain a bit, to the traditional sight of John’s cave.  There is an orthodox church here that is built into the cave.  It’s very small but there is no doubt you are in a cave in the side of a mountain.  Inside the cave/church, there is an area of rock that could definitely serve as a writing desk, especially if you were in a cave.  Apparently John was exiled to the island but his movements were not limited so he could move freely about the island and the cave was somewhere he went regularly to pray and worship. 

Revelations 1:9.

Outside the cave, we held a devotion and it was on the theme of exile.  John had been exiled from Ephesus for preaching the gospel.  It probably seemed like a bad thing when John was exiled.  Times of “exile” aren’t usually very pleasant.  However, some of us got to talking and it seems that times of “exile” do often turn out fruitful.  Afterwards.

Before heading back to the gigantic boat with tiny bedrooms, tiny beds, tiny showers and unpredictable hot water, we had coffee by the sea.  Clouds gave way to night as we caught the last boat back to our ship. 

Regarding the shower, it is a torture chamber.  After a day of hiking and exploring, the idea of a shower is bliss.  And then I get in.  My elbows either hit the wall or the curtain is brushing up against me which kind of grosses me out.  And then I get okay with the tight quarters and start enjoying the process of getting clean.  Just about the time I start relaxing under the warm water, the temperature unpredictably skyrockets to whatever degree volcano lava is.  There isn’t anywhere to go because the dang shower is so small.  Just about the time I catch my breath to scream for help it goes back to being normal temperature again. 

I want to keep typing because I’m dirty and I need a shower.  I really don’t want to go back in there.