I was sitting in church the other night, enjoying the pleasant breeze that drifts through the open rafters above the lit up auditorium of a holy space, when it dawned on me that love is a choice.
this seems obvious, basic to the most elementary of schools. however, somehow in my mind I was caught up in this idea that love was something God did in me, and that the more time that passed in my life, the more God would come in and do His life in me. In essence, I thought I would be off the hook. I was looking for the easy way out.
This past week I got to host my second retreat group, a lovely bunch of high school girls from Magnificat in Ohio. They were a joy, bursting with the excitement and curiosity and passion that our elders gladly smile upon to see coming up as tomorrow´s leaders.
Our reflection one night asked the question of where we see the face of Christ, and although my head swirled with images of smilling children and neighbors in Ecuador, my heart lept back to the country I left behind, where a host of people live without knowing anything about Ecuador, about this hidden part of the world that I happily stumbled into.
It can be easy to see Christ in the poor. They are the ones who know what is important in life. They are the ones who cling to God, who give what they have to others without ever counting the cost, who love without limit and without exception. They are the face of Christ to me.
But in thinking on the person of Jesus, this weak man who came to bring the kingdom of heaven to earth, I realized that His love was for everyone. everywhere. He gave us the hardest commandments of all, to love one another; to see Him in EVERYONE, even our enemies. Not just those who are easy to see Him in.
Going home will be hard for me in a lot of ways that I can´t explain, maybe can´t even imagine. I suspect that this creepy and sneaky little thing called self-righteousness will crawl up in me, that I will be very tempted to judge those who have much, knowing the people I loved and left have so little. But I think that what Christ calls us to most, is to see HIM in the brokeness and pain and sin of others. I think He calls us to see Him where we are least likely to expect Him.
I have 5 weeks left in this glorious place of love, where people are accepted for who they are and embraced with open arms. I pray that God will channel, in all His power, the love that I have experienced here into something that sticks with me and spreads to others.
Love is a choice. One that we make everyday, for ourselves and for those around us. I pray that today you experience the freedom to choose love, and to know that its the only thing that matters.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Lessons
¨Under the Cherry Tree¨
The other day I was at a neighbors house and was invited to go pick cherries from their grandmother´s tree. The kids and I popped over the 2 houses to a small, empty dark house, whose backyard hosted a magnificent array of green leaves sprinkled with red small fruits. The grandma of the little children hoisted herself up upon the rusty old trash can that sat dormant in the backyard for such occasions as picking season. With broom in hand, she proceeded to gently tap the small wonders, branch by branch, until soon enough, small red miracles were falling all around us. The boys and I scrambled to retrieve them, running under the thick green branches, tripping on the scattered rocks, reaching for heaven, hoping to catch in the air a trickle of the red shower, ducking and dodging to avoid the itsy bullets. It was so amazingly beautiful to me, the simplicity of life. Cherries falling all around, three tiny laughters floating up into a blue and white sky. The vintage worn dress of the grandma, mingled and twisted in with the winding branches of brown, the flowered pattern flapping in the wind, telling the world that life has its own breath. It was one of the moments that checked me into reality, the preciousness of life, the fraility of time and how fast we move by the true delights that God presents to us everyday.
Upon filling a basket full of red happiness, we entered into the tiny dark kitchen, where an open refrigerator door revealed the emptiness of its possessions. The small basket was quickly scooped up to be washed with a sparing amount of precious water, each drop important in its mission. With trophy in hand, we left the small empty space to head home to warm lights and open arms, for the boys to share with their mom the treasures they collected. Before I left the house, small dirty hands flooded the basket and came up bearing huge gifts. They were gathered up in a small bag, and with my hands full of gifts, my heart heavily weighed what had just been shared with me. What is mine is yours. Though we have nothing, we give. Love.
The other day I was at a neighbors house and was invited to go pick cherries from their grandmother´s tree. The kids and I popped over the 2 houses to a small, empty dark house, whose backyard hosted a magnificent array of green leaves sprinkled with red small fruits. The grandma of the little children hoisted herself up upon the rusty old trash can that sat dormant in the backyard for such occasions as picking season. With broom in hand, she proceeded to gently tap the small wonders, branch by branch, until soon enough, small red miracles were falling all around us. The boys and I scrambled to retrieve them, running under the thick green branches, tripping on the scattered rocks, reaching for heaven, hoping to catch in the air a trickle of the red shower, ducking and dodging to avoid the itsy bullets. It was so amazingly beautiful to me, the simplicity of life. Cherries falling all around, three tiny laughters floating up into a blue and white sky. The vintage worn dress of the grandma, mingled and twisted in with the winding branches of brown, the flowered pattern flapping in the wind, telling the world that life has its own breath. It was one of the moments that checked me into reality, the preciousness of life, the fraility of time and how fast we move by the true delights that God presents to us everyday.
Upon filling a basket full of red happiness, we entered into the tiny dark kitchen, where an open refrigerator door revealed the emptiness of its possessions. The small basket was quickly scooped up to be washed with a sparing amount of precious water, each drop important in its mission. With trophy in hand, we left the small empty space to head home to warm lights and open arms, for the boys to share with their mom the treasures they collected. Before I left the house, small dirty hands flooded the basket and came up bearing huge gifts. They were gathered up in a small bag, and with my hands full of gifts, my heart heavily weighed what had just been shared with me. What is mine is yours. Though we have nothing, we give. Love.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Easter
Easter was one of the most joyous and real holidays that I have celebrated in a while. Somehow the meaning of holidays and events seems to be a little shaded or tilted towards family traditions or individual preferences for me in the states, but here, it is dominately celebrated in the same union of spirit, for the same singular cause. Easter here was about Christ, walking with Him in a way that most of us never dare to outside of our daily lives. It wasn´t about the baskets of goodies burried around the house, or the special family brunches, or even different musical festivites on Sunday morning. It was about Christ, plain and simple. Beautiful.
We had the honor of being invited to paricipate in one of the renactments of Christ´s death, which meant that we would parade through the streets of Duran, following a man carrying a cross, with hundreds of witnesses doing the same. We were elected to be the town people, the bystanders that watched Jesus brutual walk up the mount. The procession started in the heat of the day, and the 3 hours that followed didn´t prove to be any cooler than high noon. We wore sheets, which looked like togas, to better prepare ourselves for the dress of the day. These proved to increase the heat, and made the journey a tad more realistic at the hint of suffering we tasted under all our layers. It was so moving, to be walking down the middle of the main street, cars haulting and stoped for blocks, and hundreds of people walk silently and mournfully behind the man carrying the cross. At times it was too bright to see anything, and in those blind moments of surrender, I felt like I could have actually been right there, broken hearted, witnessing the painful march, all done out of love, for me.
Later that night we did another procession to the church for 9pm mass. We started out a group of 30 of us, carrying candels and singing to the guitar that strummed along behind the cross. As we passed through the woven dirt roads of Arbolito, more and more people came out of their houses, carrying their own glowing prayers, their hopes and hearts. Before long, I turned around to find that there were hundreds of people, families, walking and singing into the cool April night, candles waving over the darkness. The most memorable thing for me was seeing all our of kids, all the little people that we pour our hearts to through our afterschool programs, wandering through the mountain of people, running up and grabbing our hands, walking arm and arm with us, singing and smiling together towards the goodness of God. It made me feel a familiar feeling, that of a community embraced and settled in love, reaching out and being enough.
The next night we had a mass at the larger church across town, and this one was also a candle light service, and being a part of their worship, of the lighting of the incense, of the kindling hope for what tomorrow, Easter Sunday, would reveal and change for the world, made it all seem like something very Divine, very much a part from our ordinary and human lives as volunteers.
I think that the focus on Christ, what He suffered and what He went through to deliver us over to eternal life, is what surpirsed and awed me the most. I had never put so much thought or energy into it, and it had never been displayed for me in such a community sense, where everyone worked at making it real and visible so that all might understand and live differently in light of what happened.
Christ rose. He is alive, and we are alive with Him.
That message still reverberates in me, to my bones. All of us, living as One, because of God´s love, displayed and written in death. Death turned to Life.
Peace be with you.
We had the honor of being invited to paricipate in one of the renactments of Christ´s death, which meant that we would parade through the streets of Duran, following a man carrying a cross, with hundreds of witnesses doing the same. We were elected to be the town people, the bystanders that watched Jesus brutual walk up the mount. The procession started in the heat of the day, and the 3 hours that followed didn´t prove to be any cooler than high noon. We wore sheets, which looked like togas, to better prepare ourselves for the dress of the day. These proved to increase the heat, and made the journey a tad more realistic at the hint of suffering we tasted under all our layers. It was so moving, to be walking down the middle of the main street, cars haulting and stoped for blocks, and hundreds of people walk silently and mournfully behind the man carrying the cross. At times it was too bright to see anything, and in those blind moments of surrender, I felt like I could have actually been right there, broken hearted, witnessing the painful march, all done out of love, for me.
Later that night we did another procession to the church for 9pm mass. We started out a group of 30 of us, carrying candels and singing to the guitar that strummed along behind the cross. As we passed through the woven dirt roads of Arbolito, more and more people came out of their houses, carrying their own glowing prayers, their hopes and hearts. Before long, I turned around to find that there were hundreds of people, families, walking and singing into the cool April night, candles waving over the darkness. The most memorable thing for me was seeing all our of kids, all the little people that we pour our hearts to through our afterschool programs, wandering through the mountain of people, running up and grabbing our hands, walking arm and arm with us, singing and smiling together towards the goodness of God. It made me feel a familiar feeling, that of a community embraced and settled in love, reaching out and being enough.
The next night we had a mass at the larger church across town, and this one was also a candle light service, and being a part of their worship, of the lighting of the incense, of the kindling hope for what tomorrow, Easter Sunday, would reveal and change for the world, made it all seem like something very Divine, very much a part from our ordinary and human lives as volunteers.
I think that the focus on Christ, what He suffered and what He went through to deliver us over to eternal life, is what surpirsed and awed me the most. I had never put so much thought or energy into it, and it had never been displayed for me in such a community sense, where everyone worked at making it real and visible so that all might understand and live differently in light of what happened.
Christ rose. He is alive, and we are alive with Him.
That message still reverberates in me, to my bones. All of us, living as One, because of God´s love, displayed and written in death. Death turned to Life.
Peace be with you.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Life in the fast lane
wHOA. its march and I haven´t written anything, yet so much has happened. The rents and Bust came down for an 8 day visit, other parents flooded our lives with joy and peace, retreat groups continue to expand our community of friends, new children at the hospital have passed through our lives, Semillas had its annual olympics, big decisions are popping up on all of our horizons, made the big trip to surf city, etc.. So much has been buzzing in the spring of the world, all directing me back to the thankfulness I feel in God that I get to be here.
¨Let God.¨ This morning as I was passing through crowded streets, weaving in and out of traffic on the bus, among the gloomy grey sky, I realized that if I got a tattoo, this is what I would want it say. Probably in a different language, because that seems like the cool thing to do, have something that no one knows that only you can explain. I will likely never get a tattoo, but if I did, this is what I would want to be reminded of everyday of my life.
The whole challenge of being here this year has been just that- BEING. That is the mission of Rostro de Cristo, that we don´t come in trying to change the world and the systems, although that is exteremly important, we come in to minister by the presence of our selves intertwined in the lives of others. So many days have passed here where I feel I am doing nothing, and coming from a culture that determines value based on what one can produce, I have often felt at the bottom of the social order that I have no control in determining.
I have been struggling mentally to accept that Christ must do all things through me, that it really isn´t ME doing anything. I am nothing apart from him, yet I get all these ideas and dreams and hopes, that if I only try harder, I can show God how much I can actually do. Lately I have been trying a lot to give myself peace, to calm myself when I see hardships, to make myself chill out when I am experiencing the anxiety of the future and to feel okay when the pain of the lives of those around me rubs against me. I often attempt to right my own paths, which is an endless game that I can never win at. I´m human. Punto. (Period.)
So this novel idea that I have to, and I repeat HAVE TO because its come to a point where I don´t have the option to not Trust God, I need to LET God ________. Fill in the blank.
I have to LET God have His way in me.
I have to LET God bring me peace.
I have to LET God prepare a place for me at home.
I have to LET God love in me.
All things that I have been trying to do, and missing the mark everytime.
There is a rule in our community that we can´t get tattoos or piercing in Ecuador, mainly for safety and the nerves of our parents, so you will not likely see me coming home with this motto plastered across my body. But if when I come home, and you see me, please remind me of this revelation that I´ve had today, because surely, only too soon, I suppose it will slip away. And like usual, I will go back to trying to fill the holes and gaps of my humanity that only God alone can fill.
and the best part is, He does.
¨Let God.¨ This morning as I was passing through crowded streets, weaving in and out of traffic on the bus, among the gloomy grey sky, I realized that if I got a tattoo, this is what I would want it say. Probably in a different language, because that seems like the cool thing to do, have something that no one knows that only you can explain. I will likely never get a tattoo, but if I did, this is what I would want to be reminded of everyday of my life.
The whole challenge of being here this year has been just that- BEING. That is the mission of Rostro de Cristo, that we don´t come in trying to change the world and the systems, although that is exteremly important, we come in to minister by the presence of our selves intertwined in the lives of others. So many days have passed here where I feel I am doing nothing, and coming from a culture that determines value based on what one can produce, I have often felt at the bottom of the social order that I have no control in determining.
I have been struggling mentally to accept that Christ must do all things through me, that it really isn´t ME doing anything. I am nothing apart from him, yet I get all these ideas and dreams and hopes, that if I only try harder, I can show God how much I can actually do. Lately I have been trying a lot to give myself peace, to calm myself when I see hardships, to make myself chill out when I am experiencing the anxiety of the future and to feel okay when the pain of the lives of those around me rubs against me. I often attempt to right my own paths, which is an endless game that I can never win at. I´m human. Punto. (Period.)
So this novel idea that I have to, and I repeat HAVE TO because its come to a point where I don´t have the option to not Trust God, I need to LET God ________. Fill in the blank.
I have to LET God have His way in me.
I have to LET God bring me peace.
I have to LET God prepare a place for me at home.
I have to LET God love in me.
All things that I have been trying to do, and missing the mark everytime.
There is a rule in our community that we can´t get tattoos or piercing in Ecuador, mainly for safety and the nerves of our parents, so you will not likely see me coming home with this motto plastered across my body. But if when I come home, and you see me, please remind me of this revelation that I´ve had today, because surely, only too soon, I suppose it will slip away. And like usual, I will go back to trying to fill the holes and gaps of my humanity that only God alone can fill.
and the best part is, He does.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
March is almost upon us
Wow. Time flies, I can´t even fathom that I am only 5 months away from leaving this beautiful country. It feels like a few days ago we were landing in Guayaquil, rapping to Will Smith´s ¨Miami¨ and nervously giggling as we entered into our forgien new life. And here I am, 7 months in, still not a clue what I am doing most days, stumbling over Spanish, grappling through mornings in the hospital, shuffling through angry kids and happy non-listners at Semillas, all the while praying in the mornings with my palms open wide, for God to come, for me to understand.
Lets do some brief updates on what life is looking like over here:
· Twlight made its way to the Arbolito house, spread like a disease. I´m on New Moon. Vampires was not what I imagined liking during a year of service . . .
· Carnival is a 3 day celebration leading up to Ash Wednesday. It involves paint, mud, sheer force, puddles, flour, shampoo and gold bond (in andrew´s case). red paint stained our faces. my hair was blue day 1, red day 2, purple day 3. tracy still has purple streaks. they may stay be around for awhile. intense doesn´t describe us.
· Mass on Ash Wednesday was packed. Stood back row, mosquitos bighting our legs the whole time. Dogs wandered in and out among the legs. People wanted their crosses bad. much pushing and shoving, you´d have thought it was free concert tickets.
· Poured last Tuesday. Downtown was flooded. Andrew and I waded up to our waists crossing the main street to the hospital. Saw a sole shoe floating down the ally. Looked like something out of national geographic or in the news. except this time we were actually there.
· Kids are planning for the big Olympic games that we have with all the after school programs. So far our kids aren´t looking so hot. Took 30 minutes to make lines based on age and height. semillas is hoping for an upset. march 13th will determine it all.
· Recently had our first field trip with the kids at semillas. month 6. went to a park in the city to play. there was a half pipe (skateboard ramp). the kids spent the full 2 hours running up the walls to get to the deck. Carolyn and myself included. All the kids made it up. we did not. humility and sadness.
· The other day in the hospital one of our unruly patients stabbed a woman with a pencil. she´s fine. we´re working hard to love this child who has no parents or home. we pray for him lots. please do the same if you can.
· Tracy´s dad came to visit us. He works with planes so he became the fast expert on the crash in NYC. we had lots of questions. He also grilled for us. Dan is greatly missed by all.
· Amy´s parents came down too. Her dad has the best Boston accent. I told him it sounds like a strong Bristish accent fading away into American culture. We laughed. I didn´t study linguistics. He´s from the states.
· When Andrew´s parents were here we had a rat chase. It was pinned in the closet, Melissa and Elyse braving the hunt, entrapped with it. We made a baracade. I felt safe. I stood bravely behind it to peek in and watch. The rat jumped over the baracade. I screamed. All 9 girls too. Andrew´s dad trapped it was a plastic lid. And killed it. Instant hero.
Theres so many more, my head hurts in trying to wrap around them.
Lent:
We had a morning reflection the other day and explored together the meaning of the season upon us. Lent is a time to prepare our hearts for the coming of the Lord, to empty out places inside of ourselves so that God may come and enter them and fill them up. We tried, all 12 of us in a retreat room on Friday morning, to pull out of ourselves, all the walls that are keeping us from God, so that we could give them to Him, and ask Him to break them down. There were lists made, thoughts sketched down, all of us having much to let go of, the humaness of us wearing day by day in the country of heat. I found a lot of fear inside myself, hiding in corners and holes that I had never thought to look. I am scared of the future, what it will bring, if I am headed at all in the right direction, if I am being the person I am supposed to be. Fear. We lit pieces of paper to flame, and watched as all of our fears and walls and junk burned into beautiful ashes like glowing flowers fanning out. We gave it all over to God.
My director said something that I really liked, that made things click. She said that when we ask God to come into our hearts, he doesn´t wait. He RUSHES in, because every part of who He is longs to be in us, with us, filling us up with Himself. It made my heart feel swollen and warm to think of Jesus in a frenzy, trying to get into all those patches of darkness hidden inside me, to heal them, to make them light.
I pray that all of you may find the time and space to do some house cleaning. To get rid of the burdens and worries and fears and doubts and failures that keep us from God, that we hold over ourselves as a punishment or a consequence for things we don´t feel we´ve lived up to. I pray that you can sit with emptiness, and know that in it, God lives.
I leave you with the thoughts of a much wiser man who says it best.
¨It is very hard to allow emptiness to exsist in our lives. Emptiness requires a willingness not to be in control, a willingness to let something new and unexpected happen. It requires trust, surrender, and openess to guidance. God wants to dwell in our emptiness. But as long as we are afraid of God and God´s action in our lives, it is unlikely that we will ever offer our emptiness to God. Let´s pray that we can let go of our own fear of God and embrace God as the source of all love. ¨
-Henri Nouwen.
May this season of preparation deliver you to a transformation of the heart.
all love from ecuador.
Lets do some brief updates on what life is looking like over here:
· Twlight made its way to the Arbolito house, spread like a disease. I´m on New Moon. Vampires was not what I imagined liking during a year of service . . .
· Carnival is a 3 day celebration leading up to Ash Wednesday. It involves paint, mud, sheer force, puddles, flour, shampoo and gold bond (in andrew´s case). red paint stained our faces. my hair was blue day 1, red day 2, purple day 3. tracy still has purple streaks. they may stay be around for awhile. intense doesn´t describe us.
· Mass on Ash Wednesday was packed. Stood back row, mosquitos bighting our legs the whole time. Dogs wandered in and out among the legs. People wanted their crosses bad. much pushing and shoving, you´d have thought it was free concert tickets.
· Poured last Tuesday. Downtown was flooded. Andrew and I waded up to our waists crossing the main street to the hospital. Saw a sole shoe floating down the ally. Looked like something out of national geographic or in the news. except this time we were actually there.
· Kids are planning for the big Olympic games that we have with all the after school programs. So far our kids aren´t looking so hot. Took 30 minutes to make lines based on age and height. semillas is hoping for an upset. march 13th will determine it all.
· Recently had our first field trip with the kids at semillas. month 6. went to a park in the city to play. there was a half pipe (skateboard ramp). the kids spent the full 2 hours running up the walls to get to the deck. Carolyn and myself included. All the kids made it up. we did not. humility and sadness.
· The other day in the hospital one of our unruly patients stabbed a woman with a pencil. she´s fine. we´re working hard to love this child who has no parents or home. we pray for him lots. please do the same if you can.
· Tracy´s dad came to visit us. He works with planes so he became the fast expert on the crash in NYC. we had lots of questions. He also grilled for us. Dan is greatly missed by all.
· Amy´s parents came down too. Her dad has the best Boston accent. I told him it sounds like a strong Bristish accent fading away into American culture. We laughed. I didn´t study linguistics. He´s from the states.
· When Andrew´s parents were here we had a rat chase. It was pinned in the closet, Melissa and Elyse braving the hunt, entrapped with it. We made a baracade. I felt safe. I stood bravely behind it to peek in and watch. The rat jumped over the baracade. I screamed. All 9 girls too. Andrew´s dad trapped it was a plastic lid. And killed it. Instant hero.
Theres so many more, my head hurts in trying to wrap around them.
Lent:
We had a morning reflection the other day and explored together the meaning of the season upon us. Lent is a time to prepare our hearts for the coming of the Lord, to empty out places inside of ourselves so that God may come and enter them and fill them up. We tried, all 12 of us in a retreat room on Friday morning, to pull out of ourselves, all the walls that are keeping us from God, so that we could give them to Him, and ask Him to break them down. There were lists made, thoughts sketched down, all of us having much to let go of, the humaness of us wearing day by day in the country of heat. I found a lot of fear inside myself, hiding in corners and holes that I had never thought to look. I am scared of the future, what it will bring, if I am headed at all in the right direction, if I am being the person I am supposed to be. Fear. We lit pieces of paper to flame, and watched as all of our fears and walls and junk burned into beautiful ashes like glowing flowers fanning out. We gave it all over to God.
My director said something that I really liked, that made things click. She said that when we ask God to come into our hearts, he doesn´t wait. He RUSHES in, because every part of who He is longs to be in us, with us, filling us up with Himself. It made my heart feel swollen and warm to think of Jesus in a frenzy, trying to get into all those patches of darkness hidden inside me, to heal them, to make them light.
I pray that all of you may find the time and space to do some house cleaning. To get rid of the burdens and worries and fears and doubts and failures that keep us from God, that we hold over ourselves as a punishment or a consequence for things we don´t feel we´ve lived up to. I pray that you can sit with emptiness, and know that in it, God lives.
I leave you with the thoughts of a much wiser man who says it best.
¨It is very hard to allow emptiness to exsist in our lives. Emptiness requires a willingness not to be in control, a willingness to let something new and unexpected happen. It requires trust, surrender, and openess to guidance. God wants to dwell in our emptiness. But as long as we are afraid of God and God´s action in our lives, it is unlikely that we will ever offer our emptiness to God. Let´s pray that we can let go of our own fear of God and embrace God as the source of all love. ¨
-Henri Nouwen.
May this season of preparation deliver you to a transformation of the heart.
all love from ecuador.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Thoughts Under a Blistering Sun
Two weekends ago I experinced the thrill and jubliee of another reminder that I am not yet part of the real world. Retreat at the beach. Driving 2 hours over cuvry green landscape, into a purple orange sky, bopping along bumpy roads with snacks and music and friends, I was brought into the joy and freedom that sometimes I forget to be thankful for; what a rare gift this life is. What a rare gift Ecuador is.
We got to spend 3 full days enjoying a gorgeous beach house that the founders of our partner school own. This includes hammocks on the roof terrance, a winding staircase, spare rooms galore, huge kitchen space for cooking, outside grill, and of course a marvelous view of that huge ocean horizon. It was glorious, sparkled all by the magical presence of one of our orientation leaders, John Ropar, who flew in from Ohio. He guided our retreat experience and brought us to a better understanding of where we are at.
The reatreat was unique in that it came upon our fast approaching 6th month marker. Yes. We are now half way through this year, and the other half is still yet to come. So much reflection and thought is dedicated to this point in time, in reviewing where we have been to adjust where we are going. I had a lot of time to introspect and search out what the past 6 months have shaped me into and and how they have challanged my life; its a lot of ground to cover.
One of the biggest realizations I came to on this retreat is where I have placed God in this experience. I have put forth so much dedication into understanding where I am at in this cultural exchange, how I am struggling and failing, where I am seeing my world view fold and expand, that I have forgotten along the way the entire purpose of this year: to see the face of Christ. I have certainly looked for it, and more clearly than ever seen it, but I have somewhere along the way misaligned that mission with other things, other motives, other plans. As my excitement and nervousness about next year has started to climb into the possiblity of what next year will bring, I began to look at my end goal in this process, and there burried on the back shelf was the reason that I came down here in the first place; to seek God.
We did a reflection on community and what it means to live as a cohesive unit, exploring myths and detecting lies of the things that we come in thinking and assuming. Above all those lies and romanticized ideas of what community living is, I realized that I was viewing community as an end in itself. I kept waiting for us to be full together, for everything to click, for all of us to one day be on the same page and suddenly without problems and holes. And while some of that may be a part of why we choose to live in community, it is not the primary goal. We live in community as a means to find God. Through each other we come more and more to see different aspects of who He is, and we help each other to live out the call to love in all our brokeness. Our call to live with our brothers and sisters is not to reach some qualitative form of life, some functitioning being that is self-sustaining or all serving, but to live out the kinks and pains and sorrows of the world in order to move closer into the reality of God in everything.
Everything is a means to God.
That thought stung me like the angry bee that bit me in the bottom of my foot last summer in Santa Monica, with the initial realization being so overwhelming that I cried. This new idea flipped my perspetive a lot, and while I wish I could say that 2 weeks later everything is different and makes sense and is so clear, that isn´t the case at all. This stark realization only led to a deeper shade of gray in understanding how I am supposed to act and live out the call of love. But it pulled me into the process, into the tension that comes in our lives when we don´t quite know the way or how to get where we are going.
So here I am, still so unsure of what I am doing here and if I am doing anything right at all, struggling with my purpose and my mission along with all the others on some common level. And I´m seeing that its okay. That if I stretch to remember that God is in everything, and is the end that I seek in everything, it makes the whole world open up a little bit more, and it makes me see that there is meaning behind everything we do, even if we don´t see it or feel it.
On another note, the beach was so hot that I actually peeled. That never has happened to me. My skin fell off in all different kind of patches on my face, and you could see how white my skin underneath was in contrast with the brown it had turned into. Kids at the hospital kept asking what was wrong with me. They didn´t really get it.
But that´s okay. I don´t always either.
We got to spend 3 full days enjoying a gorgeous beach house that the founders of our partner school own. This includes hammocks on the roof terrance, a winding staircase, spare rooms galore, huge kitchen space for cooking, outside grill, and of course a marvelous view of that huge ocean horizon. It was glorious, sparkled all by the magical presence of one of our orientation leaders, John Ropar, who flew in from Ohio. He guided our retreat experience and brought us to a better understanding of where we are at.
The reatreat was unique in that it came upon our fast approaching 6th month marker. Yes. We are now half way through this year, and the other half is still yet to come. So much reflection and thought is dedicated to this point in time, in reviewing where we have been to adjust where we are going. I had a lot of time to introspect and search out what the past 6 months have shaped me into and and how they have challanged my life; its a lot of ground to cover.
One of the biggest realizations I came to on this retreat is where I have placed God in this experience. I have put forth so much dedication into understanding where I am at in this cultural exchange, how I am struggling and failing, where I am seeing my world view fold and expand, that I have forgotten along the way the entire purpose of this year: to see the face of Christ. I have certainly looked for it, and more clearly than ever seen it, but I have somewhere along the way misaligned that mission with other things, other motives, other plans. As my excitement and nervousness about next year has started to climb into the possiblity of what next year will bring, I began to look at my end goal in this process, and there burried on the back shelf was the reason that I came down here in the first place; to seek God.
We did a reflection on community and what it means to live as a cohesive unit, exploring myths and detecting lies of the things that we come in thinking and assuming. Above all those lies and romanticized ideas of what community living is, I realized that I was viewing community as an end in itself. I kept waiting for us to be full together, for everything to click, for all of us to one day be on the same page and suddenly without problems and holes. And while some of that may be a part of why we choose to live in community, it is not the primary goal. We live in community as a means to find God. Through each other we come more and more to see different aspects of who He is, and we help each other to live out the call to love in all our brokeness. Our call to live with our brothers and sisters is not to reach some qualitative form of life, some functitioning being that is self-sustaining or all serving, but to live out the kinks and pains and sorrows of the world in order to move closer into the reality of God in everything.
Everything is a means to God.
That thought stung me like the angry bee that bit me in the bottom of my foot last summer in Santa Monica, with the initial realization being so overwhelming that I cried. This new idea flipped my perspetive a lot, and while I wish I could say that 2 weeks later everything is different and makes sense and is so clear, that isn´t the case at all. This stark realization only led to a deeper shade of gray in understanding how I am supposed to act and live out the call of love. But it pulled me into the process, into the tension that comes in our lives when we don´t quite know the way or how to get where we are going.
So here I am, still so unsure of what I am doing here and if I am doing anything right at all, struggling with my purpose and my mission along with all the others on some common level. And I´m seeing that its okay. That if I stretch to remember that God is in everything, and is the end that I seek in everything, it makes the whole world open up a little bit more, and it makes me see that there is meaning behind everything we do, even if we don´t see it or feel it.
On another note, the beach was so hot that I actually peeled. That never has happened to me. My skin fell off in all different kind of patches on my face, and you could see how white my skin underneath was in contrast with the brown it had turned into. Kids at the hospital kept asking what was wrong with me. They didn´t really get it.
But that´s okay. I don´t always either.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Retreat Group
I find it hard, as the days pass here, to find the time and space to write out my feelings and thought processes. For those of you who know me and what a journaler I am, you will appreciate the fact that I am on my fifth journal (thanks Dawnie for #5!) and the entries keep getting longer and longer as more and more of my life spills out into the open cracks of this country. I will try to relay a few of the larger incidents of the past week.
This past week I had my first retreat group and God was there. It was awsome to spend an entire week with Manhattan College, and I was surprised by the sadness that I felt when I had to take them to the airport to say goodbye. One night for dinner they asked everyone to think of one word that described where they were at in the week, and instantly the word REVIVED came to mind. The group was freshing, they reminded me of all the reasons I first came down here, and lent me the energy to be passionate again at the challenges that overtime had become more and more cloudy. They reawoke my passion for sharing reflections and more importantly, sharing deep thoughts about God and His role in our world and lives. They were truly a blessing to me and they reminded me of all the good people that exist in the world and who are fighting to make it better. They were a little slice of America to me, and they truly left an impact on me that they will likely never know.
One of the conversations that we had during our nightime reflection was a discussion about simplicity and what it means in our lives. I want to share one of the thoughts I had during the day as I prayed about what direction to take the group in.
As I thought about simplicty immediatley materialism came to mind and I imagined myself cleaning my closet at home. But one of the things that I have learned in being here is that everything external, or materialistic, is really only a symton of something much deeper within ourselves. Simplicity is the cleaning of our hearts, to make room for the things that really matter. It requires that we take inventory of whats in there, and take everything out that doesn´t align with our purpose or beliefs. Simplicty means making space for God to dwell in us, to clear out all the garbage that we believe and try to follow. The bible verse, ¨You cannot serve both God and money¨ came to mind while I was processing this, and for myself I decided that my greatest struggle is not with money, but with seeing myself as number one. I cannot serve both God and Colie, and perphaps that is where the most complexity has come for me in trying to have a lifestyle of simplicty. This means dumping out all of my desires, letting go of all control in my life, emptying out vain wishes and goals and consciously placing Christ in the center of my life. Simplicty is, above all things, a state of being, and the best place to start is in the heart.
With this mindset I have been trying to discern the will of God for my next step in life, how I can keep Him in the center of my life. Please pray for me as I move into the second half of the year. as I discern and pray about where He will call me to next. Being with the retreat group has opened up my heart to the possiblity of doing campus ministry, so I would ask that you would pray for me in that, to trust that God has a plan if that is where I am called.
Pray for the kids here, the hospital, the neighbors as we enter rainy season, and all the retreatants who are going home to live out all the things that they found here; namely love.
I pray that your days are finding you well, and that the spirit of love in dwelling rich within you.
Enjoy the snow for me, it is the one thing I have not found worthy of missing.
This past week I had my first retreat group and God was there. It was awsome to spend an entire week with Manhattan College, and I was surprised by the sadness that I felt when I had to take them to the airport to say goodbye. One night for dinner they asked everyone to think of one word that described where they were at in the week, and instantly the word REVIVED came to mind. The group was freshing, they reminded me of all the reasons I first came down here, and lent me the energy to be passionate again at the challenges that overtime had become more and more cloudy. They reawoke my passion for sharing reflections and more importantly, sharing deep thoughts about God and His role in our world and lives. They were truly a blessing to me and they reminded me of all the good people that exist in the world and who are fighting to make it better. They were a little slice of America to me, and they truly left an impact on me that they will likely never know.
One of the conversations that we had during our nightime reflection was a discussion about simplicity and what it means in our lives. I want to share one of the thoughts I had during the day as I prayed about what direction to take the group in.
As I thought about simplicty immediatley materialism came to mind and I imagined myself cleaning my closet at home. But one of the things that I have learned in being here is that everything external, or materialistic, is really only a symton of something much deeper within ourselves. Simplicity is the cleaning of our hearts, to make room for the things that really matter. It requires that we take inventory of whats in there, and take everything out that doesn´t align with our purpose or beliefs. Simplicty means making space for God to dwell in us, to clear out all the garbage that we believe and try to follow. The bible verse, ¨You cannot serve both God and money¨ came to mind while I was processing this, and for myself I decided that my greatest struggle is not with money, but with seeing myself as number one. I cannot serve both God and Colie, and perphaps that is where the most complexity has come for me in trying to have a lifestyle of simplicty. This means dumping out all of my desires, letting go of all control in my life, emptying out vain wishes and goals and consciously placing Christ in the center of my life. Simplicty is, above all things, a state of being, and the best place to start is in the heart.
With this mindset I have been trying to discern the will of God for my next step in life, how I can keep Him in the center of my life. Please pray for me as I move into the second half of the year. as I discern and pray about where He will call me to next. Being with the retreat group has opened up my heart to the possiblity of doing campus ministry, so I would ask that you would pray for me in that, to trust that God has a plan if that is where I am called.
Pray for the kids here, the hospital, the neighbors as we enter rainy season, and all the retreatants who are going home to live out all the things that they found here; namely love.
I pray that your days are finding you well, and that the spirit of love in dwelling rich within you.
Enjoy the snow for me, it is the one thing I have not found worthy of missing.
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