So here's another attempt at a recap-- it has been SUPER busy around here lately, but I've been keeping track of the things I want to share with you. So here goes:
7.23.08
Today we took the kids to Harper's Ferry: a quaint historical town about an hour from Winchester. It has a lot of Civil War history, and is a beautiful example of renewal: the town became a large industrial center many, many years ago, and has since reverted back to a green space, allowing the factories and plants that once brought in commerce to be replaced by a natural park, by trees which grow and give life to the area and which surround the beautiful rivers that flow through the city.
A kind, energetic woman named SueAnne lives in Harper's Ferry and jumped at the chance to take the day off work and show the kids around. SueAnne has been working with the youth group at Amor y Paz for many years now. She and Pastora Martha go way back-- they even lived together for a fews years in Alexandria.
Although the weather was less-than-obliging for our outdoor excursion (the gray skies hid the sun and sent down showers nearly all day) SueAnne was not deterred. She's got to be one of the most optimistic people I've ever met-- she pulled me aside at one point and, with a large smile, explained that she didn't mind the rain: "It's just one more element of nature to see and experience if you ask me!" she exclaimed.
I nodded my head, smiled, and ran down to the local Dollar Tree to get my kids ponchos. :)
We spent the day exploring the town's museums, eating soft serve from a local ice cream shop, and hiking along the Shenandoah River. The kids enjoyed climbing on the rocks, looking at the ducks, talking with some canoers that passed by-- all in all it was a wonderful day (which was only further confirmed on the drive home: About halfway through our trip, I wondered at the silence that had overtaken the van. I looked behind me to see fifteen tiny bodies, all bundled up and fast asleep: the sure sign of a fun, adventurous day).
After dropping off each of our tired, thankful kids, Pastora Martha and I returned to the church for Bible Study. We've been doing a study with the members from Montague UMC (including my supervisor, Pauline, and her husband, as well as Linda, the funniest, wittiest, most down to earth woman I know, and a few other church members that have become like family to me over the summer).
It's been so nice to sit in a room full of adults and to feel as though I'm soaking up their wisdom. We discussed the story of the Good Samaritan, and ways we could be more open, responsive, and helpful to those around us. As we talked, we ate a wonderful meal Linda had prepared for us. There really is something about sitting around a table and talking about the faith together. What a special, holy time these Bible Studies have become for me this summer. I only hope to return home and to continue to involve myself in the type of fellowship and discussion that I've been able to partake in here.
After cleaning up after the meal, and talking with Pastor Pete and his wife Betty-Anne for awhile, Pastora Martha and I returned home, where we each showered, changed into our pajamas, and curled into bed. :)
7.24.08
Another great day at the pool with the kids. Today I taught Magdelina and Jovena how to do handstands and flips in the water-- they spent the rest of the day perfecting their moves and calling to me: "Miss Nicole! Miss Nicole! Watch!" I enjoyed watching and encouraging them-- I love the way kids are completely uninhibited in voicing the things we all wish we could shout at the top of our lungs sometimes:
"Look over here!"
"Am I doing an okay job?"
"I could use some encouragement, praise, help!"
If only we adults hadn't fallen into the habit of covering up the places we feel incsecure about, the areas of our lives we could use help, or direction, or even a little bit of praise. Maybe then we'd be able to just call out to anyone nearby:
"Look over here! Could you help me with this?"
Perhaps, with openness and vulnerability like children, we'd rely on one another so much more completely, and we'd allow others to care for us, and to teach us, and encourage us, and serve us, and to be Jesus for us. (just some of the things my kids have got me thinking about this summer..)
7.25.08
What a wonderful morning I had today. I walked into town: tennis shoes on my feet, backpack over my shoulders, smile on my face, the presence of God swarming all around me in a way I could practically see, and hear, and touch.
I spent the morning and early afternoon sipping some of the smoothest coffee I've ever had, reading the Scriptures in ways I never had before, exploring the tiny shops that line downtown Winchester, absorbing Anne Lamott's words and insights in the Handly Library, and finding cute trinkets to bring home to my family in just over a week's time.
It was one of those mornings in which I felt God's closeness in such a way that everything about the day tasted better, smelt better, looked more beautiful, more complete, more alive.
I returned home later in the day feeling entirely refreshed-- every part of me excited to be alive and to be living and serving in Winchester.
That night Pastora Martha and I went to a meeting for local Hispanic pastors. Though I was the only white/non-Spanish speaking person in the building, I was welcomed with hugs, and smiles, and even some kisses on the cheek.
After introducing ourselves to the fifteen other people in the building, we took our seats, sang praises to God in Spanish, and listened to a sermon that, though I'm still a LONG way off from speaking Spanish fluently, I felt as though I connected with and understood every word of. I found myself nodding along with the stout little pastor who spoke. At times I got butterflies at his deeply Costa Rican accented words; my eyes filled with tears when he got choked up during a particularly moving story; a smile broke across my face when he became excited and animated about the promises of the faith-- when we finally bowed our heads at the end of the ninety minute sermon, I knew I had partaken in something so holy-- I was finally beginning to see and experience, firsthand, the way God is not contained in a certain race, or social class, nation, or language. Oh to experience God amidst people I'm so distinct from and yet so related to, to sing to God in Spanish, to hear God spoken of in a foreign tongue-- it's all more rich and more beautiful than I can ever begin to express.
It's just that God has always "spoken" to me in English. God has always said, "Nicole, I love you. Nicole, you are my child. Nicole, follow me." And tonight God's voice seemed to whisper in my ear in the most beautiful, earth-shattering way: "Nicole, te amo. Nicole, tu eres my hija. Nicole, sigame."
It was this incredible moment in which I thought in this dumb, naive way.. "God? You speak Spanish?!" ..only to come to the realization that God is speaking right now in Spanish, in English, in Greek, and Arabic, and German, and French-- in every langauge in existence and in ways that don't even fit within a language's expanses. God is speaking in the wind. God is speaking in the trees, the ocean, the hills. God is speaking in the people around me, in the love I have for them, and in the faces of Jovena, and Magdelina, and all the children I see and interact with everyday.
What a blessing to have my eyes rubbed with mud and opened to the broadness of God. I am ever in awe of the God who keeps breaking down my perceptions and giving me new, more open (even bilingual) ones. :)
7.26.08
(To be continued between packing, reflecting, and saying see you later..)
8.02.2008
7.22.2008
Blessed
Today we had a church come and run the day's activities. It is so nice on the days we have other churches in charge of the programming (first, because it's less time thinking about the schedule and more time just enjoying the kids, and second because it's wonderful to see the impact the adults have on the kids, and even more so, the impact the children have on the adults that come to visit).
Watching the adults and teenagers from Harmony UMC interact with our kids throughout the day was such a joy. First, to see a group of people who went out of their way to plan fun, exciting activities for our kids, and then also to see the presence of the children bring those activities to life in ways you can't plan or prepare for.
I was a group leader for three of our smallest girls, and as I took them around from station to station, from craft to craft, we met new people, learned new things, and laughed and giggled and got excited about the things around us and the new people who had come to spend the day with us-- it was quite a blessing.
Though, my favorite part, by far, was at the end of the day, when we'd all settled down and our new friends were packing up their things and getting ready to leave. The kids bombarded everyone with hugs and the volunteers from Harmony couldn't stop expressing how touched THEY were to have spent the day with our kids. It just reinforces what I've been learning over and over this summer: you can't leave ministry unmarked, unchanged, untouched. Ministry always has an impact on you because it always puts you face to face with the Living God, and who can be unchanged by that?!
I guess that's why I, like the volunteers from today, feel so incredibly blessed to have been given the opportunity to serve at Amor y Paz this summer. It is so hard to believe that things are winding down, and that in less than two weeks I'll be boarding a plane back to New York, but I know when the time does come for me to say goodbye, that my experiences here will have changed me forever. I will forever feel a close connection with the Spanish language, the Hispanic culture, will forever view immigration issues with the stories of my friends here in mind, will forever have taste buds that only appreciate authentic, homemade tortillas, will forever try to view situations with the eyes of children, will forever try to laugh and find joy in any situation I can, will forever have a greater understanding of the width and depth of the Body of Christ, will forever be grateful for the things I've so often take for granted, but now realize are blessings, and not just a given in growing up (things like food, beds, tennis shoes, bathing suits..), and I will forever have a mentor, a second mom in Pastora Martha, who I have come to admire, and respect, and love.
What a blessing ministry truly is. :)
Watching the adults and teenagers from Harmony UMC interact with our kids throughout the day was such a joy. First, to see a group of people who went out of their way to plan fun, exciting activities for our kids, and then also to see the presence of the children bring those activities to life in ways you can't plan or prepare for.
I was a group leader for three of our smallest girls, and as I took them around from station to station, from craft to craft, we met new people, learned new things, and laughed and giggled and got excited about the things around us and the new people who had come to spend the day with us-- it was quite a blessing.
Though, my favorite part, by far, was at the end of the day, when we'd all settled down and our new friends were packing up their things and getting ready to leave. The kids bombarded everyone with hugs and the volunteers from Harmony couldn't stop expressing how touched THEY were to have spent the day with our kids. It just reinforces what I've been learning over and over this summer: you can't leave ministry unmarked, unchanged, untouched. Ministry always has an impact on you because it always puts you face to face with the Living God, and who can be unchanged by that?!
I guess that's why I, like the volunteers from today, feel so incredibly blessed to have been given the opportunity to serve at Amor y Paz this summer. It is so hard to believe that things are winding down, and that in less than two weeks I'll be boarding a plane back to New York, but I know when the time does come for me to say goodbye, that my experiences here will have changed me forever. I will forever feel a close connection with the Spanish language, the Hispanic culture, will forever view immigration issues with the stories of my friends here in mind, will forever have taste buds that only appreciate authentic, homemade tortillas, will forever try to view situations with the eyes of children, will forever try to laugh and find joy in any situation I can, will forever have a greater understanding of the width and depth of the Body of Christ, will forever be grateful for the things I've so often take for granted, but now realize are blessings, and not just a given in growing up (things like food, beds, tennis shoes, bathing suits..), and I will forever have a mentor, a second mom in Pastora Martha, who I have come to admire, and respect, and love.
What a blessing ministry truly is. :)
Pictures!
Here are some pictures, as promised, of our day at Wilson's Wild Animal Park! (Jeff was the photographer for most of the day-- I must say he got some great shots of the kids!)
Ready for a fun day!
Making goofy faces with our new camel friend.
Jeff stole a shot of me and my buddy Carlitos when we weren't looking.
So I grabbed one of him and the gang. :)
Happy Campers.
Group shot.
Now here come some of my favorite pictures of the day. Jeff took some GREAT close-ups of the kids!
And there you have it-- some of the fun, crazy, beautiful faces who have made my summer so amazing and who have taught me so much about life, and about joy, and about the God who loves and cares for us despite our age, or race, or language, or religion.
Ready for a fun day!
Making goofy faces with our new camel friend.
Jeff stole a shot of me and my buddy Carlitos when we weren't looking.
So I grabbed one of him and the gang. :)
Happy Campers.
Group shot. Now here come some of my favorite pictures of the day. Jeff took some GREAT close-ups of the kids!
And there you have it-- some of the fun, crazy, beautiful faces who have made my summer so amazing and who have taught me so much about life, and about joy, and about the God who loves and cares for us despite our age, or race, or language, or religion.
7.21.2008
Recap
So I'll attempt to get you caught up with the happenings in Winchester-- I was sick, then blessed with visitors, then sick again, but I still can't believe the amount of time that has passed since my last post.
Let's see, where to begin? I vividly remember wanting to post something a couple weeks back ... Ah yes, the week following 4th of July weekend was quite a turning point for me. The holidays, as I think I mentioned, were pretty rough. I was feeling pretty lonely, missing my family and friends like crazy, but come Monday morning (perhaps even Sunday) I really felt revived and renewed and ready to once again put my all into the summer program and to enjoy every minute of the time I get to spend here in Winchester.
I began spending every morning in Panera Bread that week-- sipping a frothy chai tea latte and reading the Bible, journaling, listening to what God had for me for the day. I can't even begin to describe the difference this made in my time with the kids. Even though I was coming off a cold/flu, I had an incredible amount of energy, and passion, and just a down right love for what I was doing.
Yes, this was truly a blessed week-- first because of how God was restoring me each morning (go figure, make yourself available to God and God will fufill God's promises to give you peace, and life abundant!-- I swear, everyday I identify more and more with the Isrealites who seemed so forgetful of the things God showed and taught them, desperately in need of constant reminders). But even aside from these insights and moments of replenishment, the week was blessed because I had VISITORS!
First, two of my fellow interns, Hannah and Charles, who are serving in Alexandria, VA, and whom I have come to ADORE, drove down/up/across (not too sharp with Virginia geography..) to come see me. We spent the day in downtown Winchester, exploring antique shops, coffee shops, and one particularly entertaining joke shop. After a wonderful day of taking pictures, playing games, and souvenier shopping, we headed back to Pastora Martha's house, where I had another guest-- JEFF!
I can't tell you how good it was to have a piece of home hold me in its arms. Ah, to have familiar sights/sounds/smells-- it was intoxicating! It was even more incredible to watch my two worlds intersect, to see Jeff in Winchester, Jeff with Hannah and Charles, Jeff with Pastora Martha, and, later in the week, Jeff with the kids, at the church, serving in our ministry.
His visit came and went as a blur. We took an amazing trip to D.C. over the weekend, spent some time with his family there, and spent an afternoon wandering around The Mall (not sure if that needs capitalizing or not, but I feel as though it deserves a big M). :)
I loved visiting the museums, and especially the Lincoln Memorial-- I've got a soft spot for both Lincoln and sculpture, so put me in a building that combines the two and I'm a real happy camper. It was great sharing such a neat, historical place with someone I care so much about, and especially on such a whim and with such spontanaety! At one point Jeff and I just looked at each other and said aloud, "How are we in D.C. together?"-- quite the blessing, for sure.
Anyway, after our day of leisure, it was back to work. Jeff stayed almost all week, testing out his children's ministry skills, and I must say he's a natural. We had a great time serving alongside one another, taking pictures of each other with the kids, sneaking peaks of the other when we could-- watching each other talk and sing and laugh with the kids, each time falling a bit more deeply in love at the sight of it all (sorry if this entry is a bit mushy, I just can't begin to describe what an incredible experience it was to share this piece of my life with someone I love so much).
After a few days in, though, I got sick yet again-- this time with something that knocked me clear off my feet. It was nice having Jeff around-- he was able to cart me around to the doctor, the pharmacy, even IHOP when I was desperately craving eggs, while Pastora Martha and our wonderful volunteers carried on with the day's events.
It was sad to have him leave Thursday morning-- we swung by the church so he could say bye to the kids and they just about buried him in a great big bear hug. After that, he took me back to the house, where we said our goodbyes and I crawled back into bed.
I've spent the rest of the weekend recovering from whatever kind of bug it was that flew into my system-- for a little while we were afraid it was mono, but slowly the antibiotics the doctor prescribed began working their magic, and I'm finally beginning to feel a bit more like myself.
That is about all the recap I have time for tonight, but it does feel good to know you are all back in the loop! I will post pictures of Jeff's visit, perhaps sometime tomorrow. I hope this post finds all of you doing well, and enjoying the summer. I love you all and can't wait to see you (family and friends) when I get home.
As always-- Amor y Paz,
Nicole
Let's see, where to begin? I vividly remember wanting to post something a couple weeks back ... Ah yes, the week following 4th of July weekend was quite a turning point for me. The holidays, as I think I mentioned, were pretty rough. I was feeling pretty lonely, missing my family and friends like crazy, but come Monday morning (perhaps even Sunday) I really felt revived and renewed and ready to once again put my all into the summer program and to enjoy every minute of the time I get to spend here in Winchester.
I began spending every morning in Panera Bread that week-- sipping a frothy chai tea latte and reading the Bible, journaling, listening to what God had for me for the day. I can't even begin to describe the difference this made in my time with the kids. Even though I was coming off a cold/flu, I had an incredible amount of energy, and passion, and just a down right love for what I was doing.
Yes, this was truly a blessed week-- first because of how God was restoring me each morning (go figure, make yourself available to God and God will fufill God's promises to give you peace, and life abundant!-- I swear, everyday I identify more and more with the Isrealites who seemed so forgetful of the things God showed and taught them, desperately in need of constant reminders). But even aside from these insights and moments of replenishment, the week was blessed because I had VISITORS!
First, two of my fellow interns, Hannah and Charles, who are serving in Alexandria, VA, and whom I have come to ADORE, drove down/up/across (not too sharp with Virginia geography..) to come see me. We spent the day in downtown Winchester, exploring antique shops, coffee shops, and one particularly entertaining joke shop. After a wonderful day of taking pictures, playing games, and souvenier shopping, we headed back to Pastora Martha's house, where I had another guest-- JEFF!
I can't tell you how good it was to have a piece of home hold me in its arms. Ah, to have familiar sights/sounds/smells-- it was intoxicating! It was even more incredible to watch my two worlds intersect, to see Jeff in Winchester, Jeff with Hannah and Charles, Jeff with Pastora Martha, and, later in the week, Jeff with the kids, at the church, serving in our ministry.
His visit came and went as a blur. We took an amazing trip to D.C. over the weekend, spent some time with his family there, and spent an afternoon wandering around The Mall (not sure if that needs capitalizing or not, but I feel as though it deserves a big M). :)
I loved visiting the museums, and especially the Lincoln Memorial-- I've got a soft spot for both Lincoln and sculpture, so put me in a building that combines the two and I'm a real happy camper. It was great sharing such a neat, historical place with someone I care so much about, and especially on such a whim and with such spontanaety! At one point Jeff and I just looked at each other and said aloud, "How are we in D.C. together?"-- quite the blessing, for sure.
Anyway, after our day of leisure, it was back to work. Jeff stayed almost all week, testing out his children's ministry skills, and I must say he's a natural. We had a great time serving alongside one another, taking pictures of each other with the kids, sneaking peaks of the other when we could-- watching each other talk and sing and laugh with the kids, each time falling a bit more deeply in love at the sight of it all (sorry if this entry is a bit mushy, I just can't begin to describe what an incredible experience it was to share this piece of my life with someone I love so much).
After a few days in, though, I got sick yet again-- this time with something that knocked me clear off my feet. It was nice having Jeff around-- he was able to cart me around to the doctor, the pharmacy, even IHOP when I was desperately craving eggs, while Pastora Martha and our wonderful volunteers carried on with the day's events.
It was sad to have him leave Thursday morning-- we swung by the church so he could say bye to the kids and they just about buried him in a great big bear hug. After that, he took me back to the house, where we said our goodbyes and I crawled back into bed.
I've spent the rest of the weekend recovering from whatever kind of bug it was that flew into my system-- for a little while we were afraid it was mono, but slowly the antibiotics the doctor prescribed began working their magic, and I'm finally beginning to feel a bit more like myself.
That is about all the recap I have time for tonight, but it does feel good to know you are all back in the loop! I will post pictures of Jeff's visit, perhaps sometime tomorrow. I hope this post finds all of you doing well, and enjoying the summer. I love you all and can't wait to see you (family and friends) when I get home.
As always-- Amor y Paz,
Nicole
7.08.2008
Frustration!
Today was an especially difficult day. Not only were the kids more rambunctious and less obedient/respectful than normal, but I'm beginning to feel caught in the middle of the different adults serving around me-- it seems that everyone has a different idea of how to do things/what types of activities to plan for the children and I can never please everyone with my decisions or make everyone happy.
This is just really frustrating because I feel like everything we do is questioned, that there is always some bit of negative energy coming from some direction, when we're all just trying to do the best we can. Also, it's frustrating because they've (they being Pastora Martha and my supervisor, Pauline) asked me to take new approaches; they've said I don't have to do everything the way they've done it in the past-- they WANT me to branch out and take the initiative to do things a little differently-- yet when I try to think up activities that the kids will enjoy, activities to break up the routine a little bit, there are always questions or objections.
It's just difficult to see the program from the kids' standpoint (there are times it can be monotonous, times we are just giving them "busy-work" rather than finding activities that they would really enjoy/learn from) and feeling as though my hands are somewhat tied to do anything to make the program more enjoyable/innovative/fun for the children. I guess it's in these moments I have to remember my job as a missionary: to be LED by those already here, and used where asked, when asked.
It's just difficult for me, I suppose, because Pastora Martha labels me "Summer Program Director", and because, when we first talked about my role this summer, everyone at the church told me they wanted me to branch out and bring my own flare to the program, I feel this huge need to succeed, to make the church a fun and exciting place for the children to be everyday, to bring everything we do to life.
I guess now it's just a matter of seeing and learning from the life that's already there. Because, though they tire of worksheets and coloring pages at times, the kids shine while we're singing; they break into fits of giggles as we run around outside; they hold up their crafts with smiles and looks of pride; they find fun and joy just in coming together everyday and seeing what we have in store for them.
So pray that my (recovering) success-oriented self doesn't get stuck obsessing about creating the perfect, award-winning summer program, and learns to simply enjoy each moment, regardless of what we are doing, regardless of the questions/negativity that might surround the activities, regardless of the chidren's groans about a particular boring stretch of the day. Pray that I remember that I will never please everyone in life, and that I have enough wisdom to let go of the ways I'm not pleasing people, and to focus on things I am doing, the ways we are benefitting the children, the lives we are touching/shaping/transforming.
Until Next Time,
Nicole
This is just really frustrating because I feel like everything we do is questioned, that there is always some bit of negative energy coming from some direction, when we're all just trying to do the best we can. Also, it's frustrating because they've (they being Pastora Martha and my supervisor, Pauline) asked me to take new approaches; they've said I don't have to do everything the way they've done it in the past-- they WANT me to branch out and take the initiative to do things a little differently-- yet when I try to think up activities that the kids will enjoy, activities to break up the routine a little bit, there are always questions or objections.
It's just difficult to see the program from the kids' standpoint (there are times it can be monotonous, times we are just giving them "busy-work" rather than finding activities that they would really enjoy/learn from) and feeling as though my hands are somewhat tied to do anything to make the program more enjoyable/innovative/fun for the children. I guess it's in these moments I have to remember my job as a missionary: to be LED by those already here, and used where asked, when asked.
It's just difficult for me, I suppose, because Pastora Martha labels me "Summer Program Director", and because, when we first talked about my role this summer, everyone at the church told me they wanted me to branch out and bring my own flare to the program, I feel this huge need to succeed, to make the church a fun and exciting place for the children to be everyday, to bring everything we do to life.
I guess now it's just a matter of seeing and learning from the life that's already there. Because, though they tire of worksheets and coloring pages at times, the kids shine while we're singing; they break into fits of giggles as we run around outside; they hold up their crafts with smiles and looks of pride; they find fun and joy just in coming together everyday and seeing what we have in store for them.
So pray that my (recovering) success-oriented self doesn't get stuck obsessing about creating the perfect, award-winning summer program, and learns to simply enjoy each moment, regardless of what we are doing, regardless of the questions/negativity that might surround the activities, regardless of the chidren's groans about a particular boring stretch of the day. Pray that I remember that I will never please everyone in life, and that I have enough wisdom to let go of the ways I'm not pleasing people, and to focus on things I am doing, the ways we are benefitting the children, the lives we are touching/shaping/transforming.
Until Next Time,
Nicole
7.06.2008
Magic
So the weekend is officially over, and, as if by magic, my feelings of homesickness and loneliness have gradually vanished as today has worn on.
I'm once again feeling blessed and excited to be in Winchester. I look forward to tommorrow, another day in which I get to be with the beautiful, spirit-filled kids who have been so welcoming to me. I'm again excited to use and further my Spanish language skills whenever possible, again amazed by the woman I'm living and serving with, again in love with the community that has opened its arms to me over the summer.
And if these renewed perspectives, along with my continued correspondence with Harry and Dumbledore and everyone else at Hogwarts (I'm coasting right along in my favorite series-- soon to start book 6), weren't enough to make me feel as though magic was sprouting up all around me, this morning I experienced the most beautiful, most unreal, most-- you guessed it: magical thing of all:
Pastora Martha woke me up this morning and asked if I wanted to accompany her to the hospital-- Larena Magdeli, a vibrant young woman who we recently held a baby shower for, had gone into labor late last night and had a brand new baby girl.
Well, of course I wanted to go! I've always found something so holy, so incredible about babies-- they make you smile, and gawk, and feel this incredible joy that is so real, so powerful, you can actually feel it in your chest.
So off I went to the hospital, expecting to stare at little Liliana from the other side of a glass wall, and within half an hour I found myself holding this tiny, beautiful child in my arms, telling her mother how beautiful she was, trying to find words as I looked down at this bundle of new life, this evidence of God's grace and love and goodness, this amazing, incredible, beautiful child who had not even been in the world for a day yet, and who I somehow got to hold, and speak to, and be touched by.
It's these types of moments that make me feel so incredibly blessed to have been given the opportunity I've been given. Sure, it's difficult at times. Sure, I get lonely; I miss my friends, my family, my BOYFRIEND. But completely separate from all these challenges is a deep sense of gratitude for the things my eyes have been opened to, the activities my hands have been involved in, the conversations I've been able to be a part of, the people I've gotten to know, and listen to, and have begun to call family.
God has an amazing way of teaching us in the times we feel most inadequate, most alone, most out of our elements. I never thought I'd be thankful for being put in a place where things do not come naturally/easily for me, in a place where I often feel I'm the outsider, but through all of my experiences, God has shown me sides of Godself, sources of God's love and strength and providence, that I never would have tapped into had I remained in my comfort zone.
So thank you, God, for new experiences. Thank you for challenging circumstances. Thank you for ultimately being the lifter of my burdens, the offerer of a new yoke, the source of life, and love, and magic into my ever-changing life. En su nombre, Dios. Amen.
I'm once again feeling blessed and excited to be in Winchester. I look forward to tommorrow, another day in which I get to be with the beautiful, spirit-filled kids who have been so welcoming to me. I'm again excited to use and further my Spanish language skills whenever possible, again amazed by the woman I'm living and serving with, again in love with the community that has opened its arms to me over the summer.
And if these renewed perspectives, along with my continued correspondence with Harry and Dumbledore and everyone else at Hogwarts (I'm coasting right along in my favorite series-- soon to start book 6), weren't enough to make me feel as though magic was sprouting up all around me, this morning I experienced the most beautiful, most unreal, most-- you guessed it: magical thing of all:
Pastora Martha woke me up this morning and asked if I wanted to accompany her to the hospital-- Larena Magdeli, a vibrant young woman who we recently held a baby shower for, had gone into labor late last night and had a brand new baby girl.
Well, of course I wanted to go! I've always found something so holy, so incredible about babies-- they make you smile, and gawk, and feel this incredible joy that is so real, so powerful, you can actually feel it in your chest.
So off I went to the hospital, expecting to stare at little Liliana from the other side of a glass wall, and within half an hour I found myself holding this tiny, beautiful child in my arms, telling her mother how beautiful she was, trying to find words as I looked down at this bundle of new life, this evidence of God's grace and love and goodness, this amazing, incredible, beautiful child who had not even been in the world for a day yet, and who I somehow got to hold, and speak to, and be touched by.
It's these types of moments that make me feel so incredibly blessed to have been given the opportunity I've been given. Sure, it's difficult at times. Sure, I get lonely; I miss my friends, my family, my BOYFRIEND. But completely separate from all these challenges is a deep sense of gratitude for the things my eyes have been opened to, the activities my hands have been involved in, the conversations I've been able to be a part of, the people I've gotten to know, and listen to, and have begun to call family.
God has an amazing way of teaching us in the times we feel most inadequate, most alone, most out of our elements. I never thought I'd be thankful for being put in a place where things do not come naturally/easily for me, in a place where I often feel I'm the outsider, but through all of my experiences, God has shown me sides of Godself, sources of God's love and strength and providence, that I never would have tapped into had I remained in my comfort zone.
So thank you, God, for new experiences. Thank you for challenging circumstances. Thank you for ultimately being the lifter of my burdens, the offerer of a new yoke, the source of life, and love, and magic into my ever-changing life. En su nombre, Dios. Amen.
7.04.2008
More Thoughts on Homesickness
After a few hours in Panera, first with Harry, and then with my sister playing internet Scrabble, I was beginning to feel a bit better.
I called home in the morning, explaining that I was feeling homesick. Mom quickly assured me they were doing nothing fun or exciting (an attempt to make me feel better about being far away, and though it didn't distinguish my feelings of loneliness, it did make me love my mom all the more for it.)
Natalie quickly got on the telephone and asked if I wanted to play a game of Scrabulous with her (Facebook's version of Scrabble for those who aren't as thoroughly in love with the game as I am..)
Playing with her, focusing on beating her, and typing little messages of rivalry to her while I drank my chai tea latte in Panera definitely lifted my spirits some. In that moment I was so thankful for family, so thankful for the ways they can come through and be there for you even from miles away. I'm also so thankful for the nudgings at my heart God has provoked lately, the nudgings which have caused me to reach out and allow my family to be there for me, to provide love and assurance for me in real, tangible ways, especially when I need them most.
So Scrabulous was good. Then I went home and heard Martha's family all around me again-- cooking, laughing, joking-- so I pulled Harry back out of my bag, curled up on my bed, and ate about three portions of this chocolate snack mix I discovered at Walmart (quite good, though I don't recommend three portions' worth.)
It's so odd. I KNOW Martha would love to have me join her and her family-- there is just something inside me that wants to give her family time, that wants to allow her to cherish her daughter and son-in-law and not feel like she has to make sure I'm having a good time/understanding despite the language barriers/etc.
And so I'm staying here, locked up in my room, reading my book, feeling very alone, very isolated, wishing I had something to do, someone to visit with, somewhere to go. I think one of the things I hate worst is feeling like a burden, or even risking to put myself in the position in which I could potentially feel like a burden.
In a way, then, this whole missionary experience has been quite good for me-- it has caused me to be a "burden" 24/7-- I am dependent on the people here for food, housing, transportation, guidance at work, and just about everything else under the sun.
It's been very hard for me at times, but I think I have gotten better at the whole dependency thing over time. I think today is just a small relapse-- in light of the holiday, and of Martha's family coming in town, I've really wanted to get out of the way and give her some time to do her own thing again, to have a weekend in which she can do things as she would before she agreed to be a host and temporary mother-figure for me for the summer.
Who knows, perhaps tomorrow the sun will be shining, (it's been a stormy, nasty day, which is the reason I've decided not to go into D.C. or to try to explore anywhere else) and perhaps I'll hear from my fellow interns, and perhaps I'll be able to spend a day of much needed independence in the city. Or maybe I won't get my day of independence, and I'll learn, even further, the joys and benefits of allowing others to make room for you in their lives and to care for you even when you feel as though you're burdening them.
Either way, I know tomorrow, and the next day, and the rest of my journey here and beyond, holds many lessons. (I just hope I don't make a habit of downing three portions of chocolate mix as I learn them!)
Paz y Amor Mis Amigos y Mi Familia,
Nicole
I called home in the morning, explaining that I was feeling homesick. Mom quickly assured me they were doing nothing fun or exciting (an attempt to make me feel better about being far away, and though it didn't distinguish my feelings of loneliness, it did make me love my mom all the more for it.)
Natalie quickly got on the telephone and asked if I wanted to play a game of Scrabulous with her (Facebook's version of Scrabble for those who aren't as thoroughly in love with the game as I am..)
Playing with her, focusing on beating her, and typing little messages of rivalry to her while I drank my chai tea latte in Panera definitely lifted my spirits some. In that moment I was so thankful for family, so thankful for the ways they can come through and be there for you even from miles away. I'm also so thankful for the nudgings at my heart God has provoked lately, the nudgings which have caused me to reach out and allow my family to be there for me, to provide love and assurance for me in real, tangible ways, especially when I need them most.
So Scrabulous was good. Then I went home and heard Martha's family all around me again-- cooking, laughing, joking-- so I pulled Harry back out of my bag, curled up on my bed, and ate about three portions of this chocolate snack mix I discovered at Walmart (quite good, though I don't recommend three portions' worth.)
It's so odd. I KNOW Martha would love to have me join her and her family-- there is just something inside me that wants to give her family time, that wants to allow her to cherish her daughter and son-in-law and not feel like she has to make sure I'm having a good time/understanding despite the language barriers/etc.
And so I'm staying here, locked up in my room, reading my book, feeling very alone, very isolated, wishing I had something to do, someone to visit with, somewhere to go. I think one of the things I hate worst is feeling like a burden, or even risking to put myself in the position in which I could potentially feel like a burden.
In a way, then, this whole missionary experience has been quite good for me-- it has caused me to be a "burden" 24/7-- I am dependent on the people here for food, housing, transportation, guidance at work, and just about everything else under the sun.
It's been very hard for me at times, but I think I have gotten better at the whole dependency thing over time. I think today is just a small relapse-- in light of the holiday, and of Martha's family coming in town, I've really wanted to get out of the way and give her some time to do her own thing again, to have a weekend in which she can do things as she would before she agreed to be a host and temporary mother-figure for me for the summer.
Who knows, perhaps tomorrow the sun will be shining, (it's been a stormy, nasty day, which is the reason I've decided not to go into D.C. or to try to explore anywhere else) and perhaps I'll hear from my fellow interns, and perhaps I'll be able to spend a day of much needed independence in the city. Or maybe I won't get my day of independence, and I'll learn, even further, the joys and benefits of allowing others to make room for you in their lives and to care for you even when you feel as though you're burdening them.
Either way, I know tomorrow, and the next day, and the rest of my journey here and beyond, holds many lessons. (I just hope I don't make a habit of downing three portions of chocolate mix as I learn them!)
Paz y Amor Mis Amigos y Mi Familia,
Nicole
Homesick
I experienced my first bit of homesickness today..
I must say it's difficult seeing families all around me, gathered together to celebrate the holidays, when my own family is miles and miles away.
I almost wish I didn't have the day off today-- it would be nice to have work to keep me busy.
I'm thinking about trying to meet some fellow interns up in D.C. today or tomorrow-- perhaps the trip will be a nice distraction; although, for now, Harry Potter and I have a date in a large, comfy couch at Panera, and I think that should be just the pick me up I need until I attempt a venture into the city this evening.. :)
I must say it's difficult seeing families all around me, gathered together to celebrate the holidays, when my own family is miles and miles away.
I almost wish I didn't have the day off today-- it would be nice to have work to keep me busy.
I'm thinking about trying to meet some fellow interns up in D.C. today or tomorrow-- perhaps the trip will be a nice distraction; although, for now, Harry Potter and I have a date in a large, comfy couch at Panera, and I think that should be just the pick me up I need until I attempt a venture into the city this evening.. :)
7.02.2008
Dinoland!
We've been taking the kids to a church in Stephen City this week, and I must say it is so nice being able to be with the kids and not have to worry about the agenda (Pat has been planning everything this week, so Martha and I just get to be the set of extra hands, the adults that tag along with the kids and help with their activities.)
I've LOVED this non-authoritative role! Kids are so much more fun when you can just be their friend and you don't have to worry about getting them in straight lines/keeping them on task/etc. If there's one thing I've learned this week, it's that we adults are too uptight. There are so many times I'll hear an adult saying to a child, "Don't color outside the lines," "Put the piece of chalk back EXACTLY where you found it," "Walk on THIS side of the stairs"-- blah, blah, blah! When did we get so obsessive compulsive about everything? Who cares if everything isn't perfect? Who cares if the kid colors outside the lines? Who cares if someone coming down the stairs has to say excuse me because a kid was on the wrong side-- are these things really worth getting our panties in a twist, really worth taking ten minutes to lecture a child about, really worth getting a kid down/upset/feeling discouraged?
I guess this whole experience has really got me wondering when it happens, when the shift takes place. When did I stop coloring all over the page and start feeling restricted to the lines? When did I stop running around all the time, caring less if my shoes were untied, and start worrying about how hard the pavement might feel if I hit it? When did I stop doing things my way and start conforming to the way everyone around me said was right?
Just some thoughts I've been having..
Not to say we don't need to teach the kids about respect, and order, manners, and all that jazz. I'm just wondering when these things became so gosh darn important we decided they need to take all the fun and adventure out of life!
On another note, we took the kids to Dinoland today-- a whimsical little playground full of large, colorful dinosaurs. I loved watching my group run around, look up at the dinosaurs, and gawk at how big their teeth were, how ugly some of their faces were, how teeny and tiny they felt next to the dinosaurs' massive hands, arms, legs.
Here are some pictures from our day:
In a giant shark's mouth..
Posing with the King Cobra.
We decided to do scary faces for this one (though I think I'm the only one who went through with it..)
Little Estella decided she wanted to pose next to EVERY dinosaur (plus this stray cactus we came across..)
Me and my kids!
More people wanted in the picture..
LOTS more wanted in the picture!
I've LOVED this non-authoritative role! Kids are so much more fun when you can just be their friend and you don't have to worry about getting them in straight lines/keeping them on task/etc. If there's one thing I've learned this week, it's that we adults are too uptight. There are so many times I'll hear an adult saying to a child, "Don't color outside the lines," "Put the piece of chalk back EXACTLY where you found it," "Walk on THIS side of the stairs"-- blah, blah, blah! When did we get so obsessive compulsive about everything? Who cares if everything isn't perfect? Who cares if the kid colors outside the lines? Who cares if someone coming down the stairs has to say excuse me because a kid was on the wrong side-- are these things really worth getting our panties in a twist, really worth taking ten minutes to lecture a child about, really worth getting a kid down/upset/feeling discouraged?
I guess this whole experience has really got me wondering when it happens, when the shift takes place. When did I stop coloring all over the page and start feeling restricted to the lines? When did I stop running around all the time, caring less if my shoes were untied, and start worrying about how hard the pavement might feel if I hit it? When did I stop doing things my way and start conforming to the way everyone around me said was right?
Just some thoughts I've been having..
Not to say we don't need to teach the kids about respect, and order, manners, and all that jazz. I'm just wondering when these things became so gosh darn important we decided they need to take all the fun and adventure out of life!
On another note, we took the kids to Dinoland today-- a whimsical little playground full of large, colorful dinosaurs. I loved watching my group run around, look up at the dinosaurs, and gawk at how big their teeth were, how ugly some of their faces were, how teeny and tiny they felt next to the dinosaurs' massive hands, arms, legs.
Here are some pictures from our day:
In a giant shark's mouth..
Posing with the King Cobra.
We decided to do scary faces for this one (though I think I'm the only one who went through with it..) 
Little Estella decided she wanted to pose next to EVERY dinosaur (plus this stray cactus we came across..)
Me and my kids!
More people wanted in the picture..
LOTS more wanted in the picture!
6.29.2008
Sick Again?!
Another sick day here in Winchester-- I hope Pastora Martha and everyone else in the community doesn't begin to think me a hypochondriac.
Luckily, by the way they've been acting (bringing me vitamin C/encouraging me to rest/eat soup/see doctors) I'm pretty sure they know it's not in my head.
I just can't seem to catch a break here! First it was cold/poisen ivy; next it was stomach bug; now we're back to the cold symptoms, except tack on a sore throat and the remnants of the stomach flu from last week-- perhaps I'm getting it all out of the way now, so the next few weeks I'll be feeling better than I ever thought possible? It's kind of like that acne medicine-- Acutane-- surfaces every blemish you'll ever have in one big swoop so you experience flawless skin from there on out..
So, although I really am feeling quite miserable, and, even more than that, quite disappointed at not being able to do more or to have more energy for the kids, I'm confident that "this too shall pass" and one of these days I'll be feeling better again and will get to soak up more of the lovely people around me, more of the sights, sounds, tastes, and smells yet to be discovered in Winchester.
I must admit, all has not been completely lost being sick the past few days... I've had the chance to reconnect with my old friend Harry Potter, which has passed the time and added some excitement and liveliness even to these few days spent in bed. Now I'm just hoping I don't get completely hooked again and spend ALL my free time with my nose in a book...
Well, I realize this wasn't my most eventful post to date, but I figured I should keep you updated. Hope this finds you well.
Love and Peace,
Nicole
Luckily, by the way they've been acting (bringing me vitamin C/encouraging me to rest/eat soup/see doctors) I'm pretty sure they know it's not in my head.
I just can't seem to catch a break here! First it was cold/poisen ivy; next it was stomach bug; now we're back to the cold symptoms, except tack on a sore throat and the remnants of the stomach flu from last week-- perhaps I'm getting it all out of the way now, so the next few weeks I'll be feeling better than I ever thought possible? It's kind of like that acne medicine-- Acutane-- surfaces every blemish you'll ever have in one big swoop so you experience flawless skin from there on out..
So, although I really am feeling quite miserable, and, even more than that, quite disappointed at not being able to do more or to have more energy for the kids, I'm confident that "this too shall pass" and one of these days I'll be feeling better again and will get to soak up more of the lovely people around me, more of the sights, sounds, tastes, and smells yet to be discovered in Winchester.
I must admit, all has not been completely lost being sick the past few days... I've had the chance to reconnect with my old friend Harry Potter, which has passed the time and added some excitement and liveliness even to these few days spent in bed. Now I'm just hoping I don't get completely hooked again and spend ALL my free time with my nose in a book...
Well, I realize this wasn't my most eventful post to date, but I figured I should keep you updated. Hope this finds you well.
Love and Peace,
Nicole
6.28.2008
The Summons
There is a song that's been following me on my journey this summer. It's one I'd never heard before coming to Virginia, and somehow it has found different moments to encounter me and move me over the past few weeks, and to shed light and put words to this wonderful journey I'm on.
It's called The Summons and it's lyrics go like this:
Will you come and follow me
If I but call your name?
Will you go where you don’t know
And never be the same?
Will you let my love be shown,
Will you let my name be known,
Will you let my life be grown
In you and you in me?
Will you leave yourself behind
If I but call your name?
Will you care for cruel and kind
And never be the same?
Will you risk the hostile stare
Should your life attract or scare?
Will you let me answer prayer
In you and you in me?
Will you let the blinded see
If I but call your name?
Will you set the prisoners free
And never be the same?
Will you kiss the leper clean,
And do such as this unseen,
And admit to what I mean
In you and you in me?
Will you love the ‘you’ you hide
If I but call your name?
Will you quell the fear inside
And never be the same?
Will you use the faith you’ve found
To reshape the world around,
Through my sight and touch and sound
In you and you in me?
Lord, your summons echoes true
When you but call my name.
Let me turn and follow you
And never be the same.
In your company I’ll go
Where your love and footsteps show.
Thus I’ll move and live and grow
In you and you in me.
There is something incredibly true and accurate about these words. Somehow, they get to the heart of everything I'm experiencing this summer. Mission truly does call one to go where she/he does not know and to never be the same as a result. It forces one to rely on God's willingness to answer prayer, because it puts those in mission in situations and circumstances in which they can no longer rely solely on themselves or on the people around them. Mission puts those called in contact with present-day lepers, prisoners, and the like, and asks of them to touch, and listen, and heal. Mission reveals parts of one's life that maybe are easier left undealt with; it asks those in mission to forgive themselves, to see themselves through God's eyes, and to be made whole and new in the love God freely offers all of God's children.
I can't begin to explain the amount of growth I've experienced as I journey alongside the people here in Winchester.
Most of all, mission puts a drive, a passion in those it calls to seek God whole-heartedly, to know God on levels they've never known God before, to be more obedient, more consumed, more connected, more in love than they've ever been. Being in mission has made every part of me long to let God in further, to let God's transformation take place in more areas of my life, to let God's joy fill everything I do, to let God's eyes and ears and hands and heart become my own.
I pray that this summer, that this beautiful opportunity to be and not just do mission, will not just be another experience to look back on fondly, but that it will be a catalyst for change in the entirety of my life and my identity as God's child. I pray the lessons I'm learning here, the dreams I am having here, the insights I am gaining, will shape who I am in a way that is irreversible.
I can't begin to explain how blessed I feel to be here, in this place, in this moment-- what a beautiful, eye-opening time in my life. I hope each of you, wherever you are, are seeing, and experiencing, and understanding God in new and exciting ways as well, because there are so many sides to our God, so many mysteries yet to be uncovered. How lucky we are to be let in (even if ever so slightly) on the beauty and wonder that is our God!
Peace and Love and Revelation,
Nicole
It's called The Summons and it's lyrics go like this:
Will you come and follow me
If I but call your name?
Will you go where you don’t know
And never be the same?
Will you let my love be shown,
Will you let my name be known,
Will you let my life be grown
In you and you in me?
Will you leave yourself behind
If I but call your name?
Will you care for cruel and kind
And never be the same?
Will you risk the hostile stare
Should your life attract or scare?
Will you let me answer prayer
In you and you in me?
Will you let the blinded see
If I but call your name?
Will you set the prisoners free
And never be the same?
Will you kiss the leper clean,
And do such as this unseen,
And admit to what I mean
In you and you in me?
Will you love the ‘you’ you hide
If I but call your name?
Will you quell the fear inside
And never be the same?
Will you use the faith you’ve found
To reshape the world around,
Through my sight and touch and sound
In you and you in me?
Lord, your summons echoes true
When you but call my name.
Let me turn and follow you
And never be the same.
In your company I’ll go
Where your love and footsteps show.
Thus I’ll move and live and grow
In you and you in me.
There is something incredibly true and accurate about these words. Somehow, they get to the heart of everything I'm experiencing this summer. Mission truly does call one to go where she/he does not know and to never be the same as a result. It forces one to rely on God's willingness to answer prayer, because it puts those in mission in situations and circumstances in which they can no longer rely solely on themselves or on the people around them. Mission puts those called in contact with present-day lepers, prisoners, and the like, and asks of them to touch, and listen, and heal. Mission reveals parts of one's life that maybe are easier left undealt with; it asks those in mission to forgive themselves, to see themselves through God's eyes, and to be made whole and new in the love God freely offers all of God's children.
I can't begin to explain the amount of growth I've experienced as I journey alongside the people here in Winchester.
Most of all, mission puts a drive, a passion in those it calls to seek God whole-heartedly, to know God on levels they've never known God before, to be more obedient, more consumed, more connected, more in love than they've ever been. Being in mission has made every part of me long to let God in further, to let God's transformation take place in more areas of my life, to let God's joy fill everything I do, to let God's eyes and ears and hands and heart become my own.
I pray that this summer, that this beautiful opportunity to be and not just do mission, will not just be another experience to look back on fondly, but that it will be a catalyst for change in the entirety of my life and my identity as God's child. I pray the lessons I'm learning here, the dreams I am having here, the insights I am gaining, will shape who I am in a way that is irreversible.
I can't begin to explain how blessed I feel to be here, in this place, in this moment-- what a beautiful, eye-opening time in my life. I hope each of you, wherever you are, are seeing, and experiencing, and understanding God in new and exciting ways as well, because there are so many sides to our God, so many mysteries yet to be uncovered. How lucky we are to be let in (even if ever so slightly) on the beauty and wonder that is our God!
Peace and Love and Revelation,
Nicole
6.26.2008
Reflection
The pool took it out of me today-- I'm exhausted from head to toe-- but it was worth it to see the kids splash around all day. Most of them can't swim (another thing I realized I've taken for granted: swimming lessons) but they had a wonderful time just the same, jumping around in the shallow end.
I get a day off tomorrow-- hooray! I still haven't decided what to do with myself; perhaps I'll take a jog around Winchester, or spend some time reading, catching up on the letters I need to write, explore more of the city.
I received three letters yesterday and I can't begin to express how excited I was when Pastora Martha slid them to me across the kitchen table. Thank you so much Grandma, Julia, and Hannah and Charles! It was so nice to feel connected to home again, and to hear about the things you all are doing! It's ironic, being away from the people I love and trust most has really caused me to see the ways I remain guarded from them, the ways I refrain from letting people in past a certain point. God has granted me such new perspectives on this journey, though, and I'm confident that God will continue to reshape and refine me, hopefully in ways that allow me to let go of some of the reservations I hold. So if you receive a letter that offers more detail than you ever would have expected from me, just know I'm in the process of learning how to open up more and how to allow others to share more deeply in the things I typically try to carry on my own! (Not that I'm going to throw my whole life's story on you, or all the thoughts/concerns/feelings I have at any given moment, just that I'm working on finding a balance.) :)
Mucho Paz y Amor Mis Amigos y Mi Familia,
Nicole
Some photos from our day at the pool:
(Don't worry, Jeffrey, I kept your camera out of the water!)
The lovely Liliana.
Striking a pose.
Her first time swimming ever! She was all smiles today. :)
Remember the little girl we brought beds to? That's Yasmin on the right.
Bathing Beauty. :)
I get a day off tomorrow-- hooray! I still haven't decided what to do with myself; perhaps I'll take a jog around Winchester, or spend some time reading, catching up on the letters I need to write, explore more of the city.
I received three letters yesterday and I can't begin to express how excited I was when Pastora Martha slid them to me across the kitchen table. Thank you so much Grandma, Julia, and Hannah and Charles! It was so nice to feel connected to home again, and to hear about the things you all are doing! It's ironic, being away from the people I love and trust most has really caused me to see the ways I remain guarded from them, the ways I refrain from letting people in past a certain point. God has granted me such new perspectives on this journey, though, and I'm confident that God will continue to reshape and refine me, hopefully in ways that allow me to let go of some of the reservations I hold. So if you receive a letter that offers more detail than you ever would have expected from me, just know I'm in the process of learning how to open up more and how to allow others to share more deeply in the things I typically try to carry on my own! (Not that I'm going to throw my whole life's story on you, or all the thoughts/concerns/feelings I have at any given moment, just that I'm working on finding a balance.) :)
Mucho Paz y Amor Mis Amigos y Mi Familia,
Nicole
Some photos from our day at the pool:
(Don't worry, Jeffrey, I kept your camera out of the water!)
The lovely Liliana.
Striking a pose.
Her first time swimming ever! She was all smiles today. :)
Remember the little girl we brought beds to? That's Yasmin on the right.
Bathing Beauty. :)
6.25.2008
Loving the Kids!
Another day of summer programming under my belt and I'm thrilled to see where the summer takes me and my new tiny friends. Today we talked about Jesus calming the storm-- I had them stomping their feet, patting their knees, rubbing their hands together, and snapping their fingers while I read the story. They made a pretty convincing storm, and when the child I pulled aside to play Jesus lifted up his hands and called for peace, they all got quiet and took in the miracle.
Kids are just so funny. There's always something to giggle about from their perspective, always something to jump up and down about, something to look forward to. I'm catching more and more glimpses of why Christ calls us to be child-like-- there are just so many things kids get that we adults have lost somewhere along the way. They get forgiveness-- these kids go from being upset with one another to holding hands with the same one they were arguing with in a matter of 15 minutes. They get joy-- they're constantly excited about something (and it's little things too, like going to the park or the pool, or getting to eat popcorn and watch a movie all at the same time.) They get perseverance-- so many of these children come from homes that leave me wanting to throw up my hands just thinking about them; yet they come to the church everyday with smiles, and jokes, and positive attitudes.
There are so many things these children understand, so many things I am still learning from them.
One again, I'm so thankful to be here and to be experiencing all of the many blessings that have come with my stay here. Here are some pictures of just a few of those blessings:
Singing songs in the chapel.
More song-singing (we even tried to throw some sign-langauge in the mix.)
Some of the gang.
More of them (Meredith, I bet you are eating these children up right now!)
Kids are just so funny. There's always something to giggle about from their perspective, always something to jump up and down about, something to look forward to. I'm catching more and more glimpses of why Christ calls us to be child-like-- there are just so many things kids get that we adults have lost somewhere along the way. They get forgiveness-- these kids go from being upset with one another to holding hands with the same one they were arguing with in a matter of 15 minutes. They get joy-- they're constantly excited about something (and it's little things too, like going to the park or the pool, or getting to eat popcorn and watch a movie all at the same time.) They get perseverance-- so many of these children come from homes that leave me wanting to throw up my hands just thinking about them; yet they come to the church everyday with smiles, and jokes, and positive attitudes.
There are so many things these children understand, so many things I am still learning from them.
One again, I'm so thankful to be here and to be experiencing all of the many blessings that have come with my stay here. Here are some pictures of just a few of those blessings:
Singing songs in the chapel.
More song-singing (we even tried to throw some sign-langauge in the mix.)
Some of the gang.
More of them (Meredith, I bet you are eating these children up right now!)
6.24.2008
Summer Program Drama!
It's difficult to explain the kind of mood I'm in. I'm tired, but giddy at the same time, and I'm not even really sure why.
The past few days have been...interesting.
We started our summer program Monday. The children are WONDERFUL-- only one or two trouble makers in the bunch, nothing we can't handle. They are energetic, and joyful, and so hilarious. One of the little boys today was running around playing a game of tag and holding his pants up the whole time-- ADORABLE!
The people I'm working with are great-- Martha, Pauline, and Linda are too funny to be around. Linda's the queen of little snide remarks, which Martha pays no attention to and Pauline encourages by saying something feisty right back. Needless to say, we have a good time around here.
I have had a difficult encounter with one of the volunteers (and I'm not sure if it's wise to put this out there in cyberspace where anyone can read it, but in the spirit of Anne Lamott, I'm sticking with candidness, for better or worse I suppose..)
So I'm helping the volunteer make copies the other morning and she asks nonchalantly, "How many do you suppose are illegals?" I guess the question didn't strike me as funny right off the bat-- Pastora Martha has been talking to me very openly about the families' circumstances, in order to give me an understanding of where they come from and why. Plus, I figured if the woman's helping with the summer program, she must have a heart for the kids, or a desire to help, a sense of the injustice of their situations, and a yearning to make things better for them. So young, naive me replies, "Oh, I think every one of them. None of the parents put their socials on the registration forms."
And this lady who I think is on our side, who I think is here to help, and nurture, and advocate for these children, rolls her eyes and goes on a rant about "how much public school space these children are taking up, how high property taxes are these days because of it," and how the only reason she's here is so, "maybe they'll atleast learn something here and keep from draining even more money out of the system because they need special teachers who will work at a slower pace for them."
I smiled and nodded, inwardly shocked. I left the room with a, "well I think the copier's working for ya now," wishing I had a backbone enough even just to offer my perspective or to share some of the stories I've learned about these children who have names, and identities, interests, dreams, and reasons why their families are where they are.
I'm trying to let go of the comments she made and be grateful for the set of extra hands (although it's difficult when she sings "God Bless America" everytime the children pass by..); yet God's gentle, patient, loving voice continues to remind me not to judge, or be hardened, or put up unnecessary boundaries between myself and others. I just hope the God that's blowing that voice in my ear will also give me the strength/humility/willingness to do what it says..
In addition to all that hooplah, I've come down with some sort of bug (go figure!) So although the last couple days have been exciting, I'm looking ahead even more excitedly to the days I can work with the kids and feel well, and have the energy to run around and play tag/duck-duck-goose/whatever other crazy games they seem to take joy in. Pray that I get over whatever it is I've come down with and that my immune system kicks in and does a better job in the weeks to come! (Pray also that God can subdue the judgemental side in me this summer, so I may gain a better understanding of where my patriotic song-singing volunteer is coming from, and so we may work together and serve these beautiful children, and let them know they are loved, and valued, and completely priceless, just as they are, in the eyes of God.)
Peace and Love!
Nicole
The past few days have been...interesting.
We started our summer program Monday. The children are WONDERFUL-- only one or two trouble makers in the bunch, nothing we can't handle. They are energetic, and joyful, and so hilarious. One of the little boys today was running around playing a game of tag and holding his pants up the whole time-- ADORABLE!
The people I'm working with are great-- Martha, Pauline, and Linda are too funny to be around. Linda's the queen of little snide remarks, which Martha pays no attention to and Pauline encourages by saying something feisty right back. Needless to say, we have a good time around here.
I have had a difficult encounter with one of the volunteers (and I'm not sure if it's wise to put this out there in cyberspace where anyone can read it, but in the spirit of Anne Lamott, I'm sticking with candidness, for better or worse I suppose..)
So I'm helping the volunteer make copies the other morning and she asks nonchalantly, "How many do you suppose are illegals?" I guess the question didn't strike me as funny right off the bat-- Pastora Martha has been talking to me very openly about the families' circumstances, in order to give me an understanding of where they come from and why. Plus, I figured if the woman's helping with the summer program, she must have a heart for the kids, or a desire to help, a sense of the injustice of their situations, and a yearning to make things better for them. So young, naive me replies, "Oh, I think every one of them. None of the parents put their socials on the registration forms."
And this lady who I think is on our side, who I think is here to help, and nurture, and advocate for these children, rolls her eyes and goes on a rant about "how much public school space these children are taking up, how high property taxes are these days because of it," and how the only reason she's here is so, "maybe they'll atleast learn something here and keep from draining even more money out of the system because they need special teachers who will work at a slower pace for them."
I smiled and nodded, inwardly shocked. I left the room with a, "well I think the copier's working for ya now," wishing I had a backbone enough even just to offer my perspective or to share some of the stories I've learned about these children who have names, and identities, interests, dreams, and reasons why their families are where they are.
I'm trying to let go of the comments she made and be grateful for the set of extra hands (although it's difficult when she sings "God Bless America" everytime the children pass by..); yet God's gentle, patient, loving voice continues to remind me not to judge, or be hardened, or put up unnecessary boundaries between myself and others. I just hope the God that's blowing that voice in my ear will also give me the strength/humility/willingness to do what it says..
In addition to all that hooplah, I've come down with some sort of bug (go figure!) So although the last couple days have been exciting, I'm looking ahead even more excitedly to the days I can work with the kids and feel well, and have the energy to run around and play tag/duck-duck-goose/whatever other crazy games they seem to take joy in. Pray that I get over whatever it is I've come down with and that my immune system kicks in and does a better job in the weeks to come! (Pray also that God can subdue the judgemental side in me this summer, so I may gain a better understanding of where my patriotic song-singing volunteer is coming from, and so we may work together and serve these beautiful children, and let them know they are loved, and valued, and completely priceless, just as they are, in the eyes of God.)
Peace and Love!
Nicole
6.21.2008
Blessings
Yesterday was a day of blessings-- not that the day was easy, or comfortable, but the blessings came in the midst of difficult circumstances, which made them all the more moving, all the more real, all the more beautiful.
I woke up at eight, ready to tackle the day. Martha and I went to pick up Carlos (a man I will share more about as tonight's blog session unfolds) and from his apartment we headed to Steven City, a town which borders Winchester and which houses Steven City UMC, the building to which we were headed.
We met Pat at the church, the woman I roomed with over conference. She is a small, lovely woman, atleast eighty and a bit hard of hearing. She has a huge heart for mission, and has been serving people and providing resources for people since she was a young adult. Anyways, Pat called us down to the church because a member of Steven City UMC had recently passed away; before she passed, she decided to leave all the furniture in her house (as well as other odds and ends) to the community that Amor y Paz serves.
As I followed Martha's son's truck out of the church parking lot and to this generous woman's home, I couldn't help but feel incredibly privileged to get to be the hands that moved and delivered this furniture. Talk about walking on holy ground-- the sense of awe and wonder I felt as we hauled sofas, and beds, and beaureaus into our cars is indescribable. How I somehow got to be the messenger of this grace, the deliverer of these blessings is beyond me; yet I'm so glad this church's, this woman's, this community's story has somehow collided with mine, and has allowed me to see God's goodness and loveliness firsthand.
So I told you I'd fill you in more on Carlos at some point, and I think his story is where we should head next. I met Carlos last week. Pastora Martha and I visited his family's apartment to register his daughter, Yasmin, for the summer program. Being in their apartment just about broke my heart. The scent of mildew filled my nostrils before we even reached the doorway-- I'll let that information suffice to give you an idea of what it smelt like inside the actual apartment. Yasmin was taking a nap in her "bed" when we arrived-- an old, tattered mattress, that was stained and basically falling apart. There were no sheets, no blankets, just her small, sweet face pressed against the dirty mattress.
And if that weren't enough to choke me up, the whole apartment was lined with bags-- no furniture really, just bags of stuff. I'm not sure if they were trash bags, bags of food, clothes, or what, but they were everywhere. There was nowhere for Yasmin or here little sister Evelyn to put their clothes, no place for them to sit really, no place for them to draw, or read, or play. I stood there stunned, stifling-- in part because of the heat of an apartment with no air conditioning and in part from the sadness of it all, the injustice of it all, that these little ones who are no different than me, no less valuable than me, no less precious, or innocent, or deserving of care, could exist in such a torn, broken, filthy place.
After signing Yasmin up for the program that day, I have to admit I had my thoughts, my judgements about their circumstances. I thought maybe Carlos wasn't working hard enough, maybe he didn't care that his daughters were living without so many of their basic needs met. I'm ashamed to admit I thought all these things, that I judged him from just one small encounter, but I definitely did. Granted, I figured the system didn't make it easy for him, but even considering all the factors that are presumably working against him, I still wondered why he wasn't doing more, why he wasn't doing better, why his daughters had to share a dirty, greasy, beat-up mattress every night.
So now enter Carlos into this new day, this day that we are going to move furniture, to load up our cars with books, and linens, and coffee tables. Carlos and I worked side-by-side most of the day. We were the only two really capable of moving the heavy furniture (Like I mentioned, Pat is in her eighties and Martha has had some serious health problems within the past few years). So he and I worked together to move sofas, bookcases, beds, dressers-- you name it. We laughed while we tried to maneuver large pieces of furniture through narrow doorways or up flights of stairs; we grunted when things got heavy, took breaks when our bodies needed rest, smiled and tried to communicate though we didn't speak each other's languages.
Carlos is from an indigenous group of people from Hidalgo, Mexico. His people speak a dialect of Spanish that is almost completely distinct from the language the rest of the Latino community here speaks. It began to make sense why things have been so challenging for Carlos and his family. Not only is he working against the issues normally confronted by immigrant families, but he is doing it without any support, without any real form of community or family, because even those who would be glad to help can't understand him, can't communicate with him or his wife enough to offer any real form of assistance. Plus, on top of all that, I learned that Carlos suffers from some sort of handicap, some loss of hearing in one of his ears that resulted from an accident a few years back.
So here I am, confronted with all the details of Carlos' story, working alongside him, seeing his work ethic and willingness to help and to volunteer his time firsthand, and all my previous thoughts and judgements seem so shallow, so predictable, so far removed from this man who is smiling at me, laughing with me, pushing, and pulling, and lifting any and every piece of furniture that comes our way.
And now comes the most beautiful part of the day, the part that brings tears to my eyes even now. Before we left Steven City, Sra. de la Rosa pulled me aside and told me to drive to Carlos' apartment. She told me, "He doesn't know it, but the beds he just tied to the roof of my car are for his girls."
So I followed Martha back to Winchester, to this tiny apartment, and as soon as we stepped outside, Carlos ran up the steps, got his family, and began unloading furniture he thought was going to other families, into his own home. Yasmin and Evelyn ran up and down the stairs with each load, giddy smiles shining across their faces. We threw away their mattress. We cleared space for two beds. Martha and I assembled the beds together as the whole family stood close-by, in shock by the transformation their apartment was going through. I called the girls to my side and opened the bags that held their new bedding-- beautiful pink and white quilts with green floral sheets and pillowcases. Their faces lit up. They marveled at the quilts' patterns, at the colors, the designs, the softness of these things that were now theirs. Until this sacred, indescribable moment, I never really considered a bed, a blanket, as things one could take for granted, but seeing these girls feel so lucky, so privileged to have their own beds, their own sheets, their own comforters, changed that perception and caused me to broaden my understanding of privilege and of gratitude.
I called my mom after getting back in the car to leave Carlos' apartment. I wept the whole way through our conversation; I'm surprised she could even make out what I was saying through my cracking, shaking voice. She told me how happy she was for me, how she knows it's these types of moments that I live for, and she's so right in saying that. I've never felt more alive than when I was putting together these beds for Yasmin and Evelyn. I've never experienced more joy than when I looked in their eyes and saw gratitude and wonder, or when I looked over my shoulder on my way out of the apartment and saw them each tucked under the covers, giggling and kicking their feet from all the excitement. I've never felt more in tune with who I am and with who God wants me to be than when I left the tiny apartment, sat for a moment in Martha's car, and let it all soak in.
What an incredble, holy thing to take part in. I thank God that I have this opportunity to live here in Winchester, to be a part of this struggling community, to somehow (because of the relationships and the trust Martha has built with everyone here) be let in enough to see their challenges, their hardships, their pain-- the vulnerable pieces of their lives that threaten to break them, and discourage them, and keep them from realizing the worth and potential they have as children of God. I feel nothing but gratitude towards everyone here for allowing me in, for carving room for me in their lives, even though so many of my own experiences create so many potential barriers between us.
Thank you, God, that you are one who breaks down barriers, and who does not allow the things that stand between us to remain in place. I'm so grateful to be experiencing, firsthand, the ways in which you make all things new, fresh, redeemed. Continue to lead, and teach, and use me. Amen.
Other blessings of the day:
My supervisor Pauline and her husband brought me their car to borrow for the weekend. It was a completely unexpected surprise and will allow me to explore Winchester, and let my introverted-self have some time on my own.
One of the women in the community sent me dinner at the church tonight. First off, the meal was delicious-- she made sopas, which are homemade tortillas topped with frijoles, cheese, onions, and some strips of chicken. Even more than having happy taste buds, though, I really took this as a sign of welcome and hospitality. At first I think the community (though very welcoming) was a bit unsure about me. With the women especially, I felt like they were wondering about me, my intentions, and the ways I approach/view their community. So this meal meant so much more than a full stomach to me. It really came as a symbol of love and acceptance, a gesture that fully recognized me as welcome in the community, worth thinking of and taking care of. Again, this whole day and all its experiences has made me feel richly blessed. I hope wherever you are, you, too, are experiencing God's rich blessings and providence.
Peace, Love, and Thankfulness,
Nicole
I woke up at eight, ready to tackle the day. Martha and I went to pick up Carlos (a man I will share more about as tonight's blog session unfolds) and from his apartment we headed to Steven City, a town which borders Winchester and which houses Steven City UMC, the building to which we were headed.
We met Pat at the church, the woman I roomed with over conference. She is a small, lovely woman, atleast eighty and a bit hard of hearing. She has a huge heart for mission, and has been serving people and providing resources for people since she was a young adult. Anyways, Pat called us down to the church because a member of Steven City UMC had recently passed away; before she passed, she decided to leave all the furniture in her house (as well as other odds and ends) to the community that Amor y Paz serves.
As I followed Martha's son's truck out of the church parking lot and to this generous woman's home, I couldn't help but feel incredibly privileged to get to be the hands that moved and delivered this furniture. Talk about walking on holy ground-- the sense of awe and wonder I felt as we hauled sofas, and beds, and beaureaus into our cars is indescribable. How I somehow got to be the messenger of this grace, the deliverer of these blessings is beyond me; yet I'm so glad this church's, this woman's, this community's story has somehow collided with mine, and has allowed me to see God's goodness and loveliness firsthand.
So I told you I'd fill you in more on Carlos at some point, and I think his story is where we should head next. I met Carlos last week. Pastora Martha and I visited his family's apartment to register his daughter, Yasmin, for the summer program. Being in their apartment just about broke my heart. The scent of mildew filled my nostrils before we even reached the doorway-- I'll let that information suffice to give you an idea of what it smelt like inside the actual apartment. Yasmin was taking a nap in her "bed" when we arrived-- an old, tattered mattress, that was stained and basically falling apart. There were no sheets, no blankets, just her small, sweet face pressed against the dirty mattress.
And if that weren't enough to choke me up, the whole apartment was lined with bags-- no furniture really, just bags of stuff. I'm not sure if they were trash bags, bags of food, clothes, or what, but they were everywhere. There was nowhere for Yasmin or here little sister Evelyn to put their clothes, no place for them to sit really, no place for them to draw, or read, or play. I stood there stunned, stifling-- in part because of the heat of an apartment with no air conditioning and in part from the sadness of it all, the injustice of it all, that these little ones who are no different than me, no less valuable than me, no less precious, or innocent, or deserving of care, could exist in such a torn, broken, filthy place.
After signing Yasmin up for the program that day, I have to admit I had my thoughts, my judgements about their circumstances. I thought maybe Carlos wasn't working hard enough, maybe he didn't care that his daughters were living without so many of their basic needs met. I'm ashamed to admit I thought all these things, that I judged him from just one small encounter, but I definitely did. Granted, I figured the system didn't make it easy for him, but even considering all the factors that are presumably working against him, I still wondered why he wasn't doing more, why he wasn't doing better, why his daughters had to share a dirty, greasy, beat-up mattress every night.
So now enter Carlos into this new day, this day that we are going to move furniture, to load up our cars with books, and linens, and coffee tables. Carlos and I worked side-by-side most of the day. We were the only two really capable of moving the heavy furniture (Like I mentioned, Pat is in her eighties and Martha has had some serious health problems within the past few years). So he and I worked together to move sofas, bookcases, beds, dressers-- you name it. We laughed while we tried to maneuver large pieces of furniture through narrow doorways or up flights of stairs; we grunted when things got heavy, took breaks when our bodies needed rest, smiled and tried to communicate though we didn't speak each other's languages.
Carlos is from an indigenous group of people from Hidalgo, Mexico. His people speak a dialect of Spanish that is almost completely distinct from the language the rest of the Latino community here speaks. It began to make sense why things have been so challenging for Carlos and his family. Not only is he working against the issues normally confronted by immigrant families, but he is doing it without any support, without any real form of community or family, because even those who would be glad to help can't understand him, can't communicate with him or his wife enough to offer any real form of assistance. Plus, on top of all that, I learned that Carlos suffers from some sort of handicap, some loss of hearing in one of his ears that resulted from an accident a few years back.
So here I am, confronted with all the details of Carlos' story, working alongside him, seeing his work ethic and willingness to help and to volunteer his time firsthand, and all my previous thoughts and judgements seem so shallow, so predictable, so far removed from this man who is smiling at me, laughing with me, pushing, and pulling, and lifting any and every piece of furniture that comes our way.
And now comes the most beautiful part of the day, the part that brings tears to my eyes even now. Before we left Steven City, Sra. de la Rosa pulled me aside and told me to drive to Carlos' apartment. She told me, "He doesn't know it, but the beds he just tied to the roof of my car are for his girls."
So I followed Martha back to Winchester, to this tiny apartment, and as soon as we stepped outside, Carlos ran up the steps, got his family, and began unloading furniture he thought was going to other families, into his own home. Yasmin and Evelyn ran up and down the stairs with each load, giddy smiles shining across their faces. We threw away their mattress. We cleared space for two beds. Martha and I assembled the beds together as the whole family stood close-by, in shock by the transformation their apartment was going through. I called the girls to my side and opened the bags that held their new bedding-- beautiful pink and white quilts with green floral sheets and pillowcases. Their faces lit up. They marveled at the quilts' patterns, at the colors, the designs, the softness of these things that were now theirs. Until this sacred, indescribable moment, I never really considered a bed, a blanket, as things one could take for granted, but seeing these girls feel so lucky, so privileged to have their own beds, their own sheets, their own comforters, changed that perception and caused me to broaden my understanding of privilege and of gratitude.
I called my mom after getting back in the car to leave Carlos' apartment. I wept the whole way through our conversation; I'm surprised she could even make out what I was saying through my cracking, shaking voice. She told me how happy she was for me, how she knows it's these types of moments that I live for, and she's so right in saying that. I've never felt more alive than when I was putting together these beds for Yasmin and Evelyn. I've never experienced more joy than when I looked in their eyes and saw gratitude and wonder, or when I looked over my shoulder on my way out of the apartment and saw them each tucked under the covers, giggling and kicking their feet from all the excitement. I've never felt more in tune with who I am and with who God wants me to be than when I left the tiny apartment, sat for a moment in Martha's car, and let it all soak in.
What an incredble, holy thing to take part in. I thank God that I have this opportunity to live here in Winchester, to be a part of this struggling community, to somehow (because of the relationships and the trust Martha has built with everyone here) be let in enough to see their challenges, their hardships, their pain-- the vulnerable pieces of their lives that threaten to break them, and discourage them, and keep them from realizing the worth and potential they have as children of God. I feel nothing but gratitude towards everyone here for allowing me in, for carving room for me in their lives, even though so many of my own experiences create so many potential barriers between us.
Thank you, God, that you are one who breaks down barriers, and who does not allow the things that stand between us to remain in place. I'm so grateful to be experiencing, firsthand, the ways in which you make all things new, fresh, redeemed. Continue to lead, and teach, and use me. Amen.
Other blessings of the day:
My supervisor Pauline and her husband brought me their car to borrow for the weekend. It was a completely unexpected surprise and will allow me to explore Winchester, and let my introverted-self have some time on my own.
One of the women in the community sent me dinner at the church tonight. First off, the meal was delicious-- she made sopas, which are homemade tortillas topped with frijoles, cheese, onions, and some strips of chicken. Even more than having happy taste buds, though, I really took this as a sign of welcome and hospitality. At first I think the community (though very welcoming) was a bit unsure about me. With the women especially, I felt like they were wondering about me, my intentions, and the ways I approach/view their community. So this meal meant so much more than a full stomach to me. It really came as a symbol of love and acceptance, a gesture that fully recognized me as welcome in the community, worth thinking of and taking care of. Again, this whole day and all its experiences has made me feel richly blessed. I hope wherever you are, you, too, are experiencing God's rich blessings and providence.
Peace, Love, and Thankfulness,
Nicole
I'm Back!
We've returned from Annual Conference (actually, as of Wednesday we had returned, but it's been quite the whirlwind around here, so blogging was pushed to the back burner). But I'm back and ready to share my stories!
I journaled some while we were at conference so I wouldn't forget the things I wanted to share, so hopefully you'll get some of the high points, though I could probably write a book about all the things I heard, and saw, and thought, and smelled, and ate (the United Methodist Church is all about table fellowship!)
Sunday:
I was able to attend worship this week (last Sunday I was in bed with a cold and covered-- we're talking, arms, legs, stomach, FACE-- in poisen ivy).
I cannot begin to describe how eye-opening worship was, not even because of what was said or sung, but because I found great power and insight in the comfort I felt worshipping alongside people I've never met before, and yet people I've somehow been in community with since my baptism.
Montague United Methodist is a small congregation that shares a church building with Amor y Paz. The pastor there is passionate and animated-- I'm convinced I saw the walls shake in response to the rise and fall of his booming voice. He's a small man, almost frail-looking man, but boy do his vocal chords work when he's preaching about the Lord!
There was something almost romantic about being in that church, reciting liturgy, singing hymns, praying alongside people whose names I didn't know, yet people I somehow felt incredible connected with. God has really opened my eyes to how enormous the kingdom is. It's easy to recognize the ways God is moving in my life, in my communities in LaGrange, or Peachtree City, but coming here and hearing the stories and seeing the fruits of God's work in Winchester (a place I'd never even heard of until recently) has really caused me to understand God as much bigger than the things I percieve, much bigger than the churches, and movements, and people around me.
Of course, this is something I think I recognized on a cognitive level: I know God is in all things, in all places, among all people. It's just that actually experiencing the far-stretching reaches of God's love and providence is something entirely different, something powerful, moving, eye-opening.
I've been shocked at how comfortable I am here, at how "okay" I am here. I thought for sure I would miss home, thought for sure I would feel out of my element, and I'm sure my words will never convey the extent to which I feel at home, even amidst people I barely know. I guess that is what has been so beautiful about this experience. I've gained this new understanding of the church. The church isn't just Dunson United Methodist; it isn't just Peachtree City United Methodist; the church is Montague, and Amor y Paz, and all the other congregations around the globe that recognize, and love, and worship the living God. And with this realization has come incredible confidence that no matter where I go, no matter how far from home, from family, from my safety nets, I will always have a bigger, greater, more complete home and family in the church. A part of me used to think this wasn't true, that I would always long for the "home" that's always been defined a certain way for me, but God has continued to stretch me, to open me to new things, thoughts, and ideas, and living in Winchester has certainly convinced me that as long as I have God (which, thank goodness I always will) I really am, and will always be, more okay than I anticipate, more confident, more whole, more joyful than I ever could imagine possible.
Monday:
I'm at conference and once again I'm blown away by the extent of the United Methodist Church. It's hard to believe that this is just the Virginia Conference. I can't even begin to explain the number of programs I've heard about, the number of congregations, outreach initiatives, support groups, fundraising campaigns, relief efforts-- the list goes on and on! The number of people who have been touched, and helped, and reached out to is astronomical, and, once again, this is JUST VIRGINIA.
I'm at this incredible place in life in which I am just thrilled with the United Methodist Church, and even more so with the God that calls, and leads, and guides the church. Entering college, and even attending college, I became extremely critical of the universal church. It's just that my eyes were suddenly opened to all the things I felt society had tried to keep from me for so long: inequality in education, the reality of poverty, healthcare, continued racial discrimination, the huge disparities between the have- and have-nots, the way our system allows for and even perpetuates those disparities, AIDS, genocide, child-soldier issues-- I'm getting overwhelmed just thinking about it all.
Hearing all this, knowing that all this could exist in the lives of God's people, broke my heart and made me so upset and so angry: First, that no one had told me about any of it and Second, that we weren't dedicating every second of every day to overcoming hunger, providing healthcare to those who need it, reforming education, saving child soldiers, ending wars, making peace, healing wounds. I felt this huge weight on my shoulders, so large, so heavy, that there were times I felt immobile and unable to breathe.
So I can't even begin to explain how touched, how moved, and how empowered I feel to see this church I've come to love so involved, so concerned, so active in helping the sick, the downtrodden, the rejected, the oppressed. And again, that's just in Virginia! And earlier in the summer, it was just at GBGM. I can only imagine the joy and empowerment I would feel if I could somehow see and know about ALL the programs of the church, ALL the ways we are helping, ALL the ways we are giving, serving, loving in God's name.
This whole experience has allowed me to abandon the place of judgement and disillusionment I was experiencing toward the church, and to enter a place of excitement and wonder, a place of willingness to learn about the programs, support the movements, be involved in this big, beautiful church body that is working to make the world more peaceful and just, and that invites me to join in and share in the task.
Tuesday:
I took the morning off today. As much as I've loved conference, I needed some time to digest everything, plus the arena we're in is so cold I just didn't think I could take much more of it!
It was good to get some extra rest and to catch up on some of the journaling I wanted/needed to do. After rejoining the group in the afternoon, I was able to sit down with Pastora Martha and my supervisor, Pauline, and begin the planning process for the summer program. I am getting so excited to begin working with the children. I feel like there is so much room to get my creative juices flowing, to continue to understand what it means to be in community with people, to work as a team, to come up with programs and activities that excite people, and that send the beautiful message the we are all God's-- rich or poor, black or white or brown, English-speaking or not, open or not, understanding or not, kind or not, intelligent or not, confident or not, immigrant or not.
I hope God continues to deeply ingrain this message in me this summer, and that God continues to expand my understanding of the faith.
Wednesday:
We returned home today-- yay! It was a great experience being at conference, but I must say there is something about Winchester that has stolen my heart. I'm glad to be back to familiar sights, sounds, smells. I'm completely exhausted, completely on knowledge/insight overload, and I'll go to bed tonight thankful for the opportunity to attend conference and thankful for my safe arrival home. :)
I journaled some while we were at conference so I wouldn't forget the things I wanted to share, so hopefully you'll get some of the high points, though I could probably write a book about all the things I heard, and saw, and thought, and smelled, and ate (the United Methodist Church is all about table fellowship!)
Sunday:
I was able to attend worship this week (last Sunday I was in bed with a cold and covered-- we're talking, arms, legs, stomach, FACE-- in poisen ivy).
I cannot begin to describe how eye-opening worship was, not even because of what was said or sung, but because I found great power and insight in the comfort I felt worshipping alongside people I've never met before, and yet people I've somehow been in community with since my baptism.
Montague United Methodist is a small congregation that shares a church building with Amor y Paz. The pastor there is passionate and animated-- I'm convinced I saw the walls shake in response to the rise and fall of his booming voice. He's a small man, almost frail-looking man, but boy do his vocal chords work when he's preaching about the Lord!
There was something almost romantic about being in that church, reciting liturgy, singing hymns, praying alongside people whose names I didn't know, yet people I somehow felt incredible connected with. God has really opened my eyes to how enormous the kingdom is. It's easy to recognize the ways God is moving in my life, in my communities in LaGrange, or Peachtree City, but coming here and hearing the stories and seeing the fruits of God's work in Winchester (a place I'd never even heard of until recently) has really caused me to understand God as much bigger than the things I percieve, much bigger than the churches, and movements, and people around me.
Of course, this is something I think I recognized on a cognitive level: I know God is in all things, in all places, among all people. It's just that actually experiencing the far-stretching reaches of God's love and providence is something entirely different, something powerful, moving, eye-opening.
I've been shocked at how comfortable I am here, at how "okay" I am here. I thought for sure I would miss home, thought for sure I would feel out of my element, and I'm sure my words will never convey the extent to which I feel at home, even amidst people I barely know. I guess that is what has been so beautiful about this experience. I've gained this new understanding of the church. The church isn't just Dunson United Methodist; it isn't just Peachtree City United Methodist; the church is Montague, and Amor y Paz, and all the other congregations around the globe that recognize, and love, and worship the living God. And with this realization has come incredible confidence that no matter where I go, no matter how far from home, from family, from my safety nets, I will always have a bigger, greater, more complete home and family in the church. A part of me used to think this wasn't true, that I would always long for the "home" that's always been defined a certain way for me, but God has continued to stretch me, to open me to new things, thoughts, and ideas, and living in Winchester has certainly convinced me that as long as I have God (which, thank goodness I always will) I really am, and will always be, more okay than I anticipate, more confident, more whole, more joyful than I ever could imagine possible.
Monday:
I'm at conference and once again I'm blown away by the extent of the United Methodist Church. It's hard to believe that this is just the Virginia Conference. I can't even begin to explain the number of programs I've heard about, the number of congregations, outreach initiatives, support groups, fundraising campaigns, relief efforts-- the list goes on and on! The number of people who have been touched, and helped, and reached out to is astronomical, and, once again, this is JUST VIRGINIA.
I'm at this incredible place in life in which I am just thrilled with the United Methodist Church, and even more so with the God that calls, and leads, and guides the church. Entering college, and even attending college, I became extremely critical of the universal church. It's just that my eyes were suddenly opened to all the things I felt society had tried to keep from me for so long: inequality in education, the reality of poverty, healthcare, continued racial discrimination, the huge disparities between the have- and have-nots, the way our system allows for and even perpetuates those disparities, AIDS, genocide, child-soldier issues-- I'm getting overwhelmed just thinking about it all.
Hearing all this, knowing that all this could exist in the lives of God's people, broke my heart and made me so upset and so angry: First, that no one had told me about any of it and Second, that we weren't dedicating every second of every day to overcoming hunger, providing healthcare to those who need it, reforming education, saving child soldiers, ending wars, making peace, healing wounds. I felt this huge weight on my shoulders, so large, so heavy, that there were times I felt immobile and unable to breathe.
So I can't even begin to explain how touched, how moved, and how empowered I feel to see this church I've come to love so involved, so concerned, so active in helping the sick, the downtrodden, the rejected, the oppressed. And again, that's just in Virginia! And earlier in the summer, it was just at GBGM. I can only imagine the joy and empowerment I would feel if I could somehow see and know about ALL the programs of the church, ALL the ways we are helping, ALL the ways we are giving, serving, loving in God's name.
This whole experience has allowed me to abandon the place of judgement and disillusionment I was experiencing toward the church, and to enter a place of excitement and wonder, a place of willingness to learn about the programs, support the movements, be involved in this big, beautiful church body that is working to make the world more peaceful and just, and that invites me to join in and share in the task.
Tuesday:
I took the morning off today. As much as I've loved conference, I needed some time to digest everything, plus the arena we're in is so cold I just didn't think I could take much more of it!
It was good to get some extra rest and to catch up on some of the journaling I wanted/needed to do. After rejoining the group in the afternoon, I was able to sit down with Pastora Martha and my supervisor, Pauline, and begin the planning process for the summer program. I am getting so excited to begin working with the children. I feel like there is so much room to get my creative juices flowing, to continue to understand what it means to be in community with people, to work as a team, to come up with programs and activities that excite people, and that send the beautiful message the we are all God's-- rich or poor, black or white or brown, English-speaking or not, open or not, understanding or not, kind or not, intelligent or not, confident or not, immigrant or not.
I hope God continues to deeply ingrain this message in me this summer, and that God continues to expand my understanding of the faith.
Wednesday:
We returned home today-- yay! It was a great experience being at conference, but I must say there is something about Winchester that has stolen my heart. I'm glad to be back to familiar sights, sounds, smells. I'm completely exhausted, completely on knowledge/insight overload, and I'll go to bed tonight thankful for the opportunity to attend conference and thankful for my safe arrival home. :)
6.14.2008
Pictures
Here are some pictures from training-- I finally found a way to load them onto my computer so I'll have to start taking pictures with the kids.
Dana-Beth, Melanie, and I on the subway.
Hannah and I in Central Park.
More of the intern gang in Central Park.
More Central Park..
For you, Jeffrey. :)
Dana-Beth, Melanie, and I on the subway.
Hannah and I in Central Park.
More of the intern gang in Central Park.
More Central Park..
For you, Jeffrey. :)
Los Angeles
Today has been a tiring and wonderful all at the same time.
Sra. de la Rosa and I hosted a slumber party last night-- Elena and her little sister Jesabel spent the night with us. We had a wonderful time grocery shopping together, preparing dinner, and getting ready for bed. The girls woke up with us at 4:45 this morning to pick more strawberries for the Latino community. We pulled up to the church at 5:30 in the morning and I was shocked to see a group of 10-12 people waiting for us. That's one thing that has really impressed me and really stuck with me about the community here-- they are ready and willing to help Sra. de la Rosa with anything she needs; they are eager to be involved, even if it means rising before the sun to spend hours in the fields picking fresas. Seeing such dedicated, hard-working people has caused me to reflect a lot about my own work-ethic, my own willingness to jump in and volunteer especially for tasks that are less than appealing to me.
Anyways, the strawberry picking was tiring but rewarding. The best part is retunrning home and driving through the Latino community, asking anyone and everyone, "?Le gustarian fresas?" There is much to be said about providing food for people who struggle to put it on the table. Sra. de la Rosa is constantly sending bread/pastries/fruits/drinks home with people. We walked into church the other morning to find boxes and boxes of bread/cakes/doughnuts.
I asked her, "Pastora Martha, where did all this come from?"
She replied, "We have many angels, Nicole."
And being here, it really does seem like there are angels in our midst. Food comes from nowhere and we are able to send it home with people who truly need it, people whose faces show their gratitude and the relief they feel to hold a bag of food or a box of produce in their hands that they can bring home to their families. I have learned much by being here, by watching, by listening, by serving.
I am so grateful to live in community with everyone here. I am even beginning to feel part of the community. The more I'm here, the more I understand the things going on around me, the more I can communicate with and relate to the families I'm in contact with, and the more the children around me open up to me and trust me with their thoughts and worries, their joys and their fears.
Thank you for your thoughts, your prayers, and your comments on my blog. You have no idea how wonderful it is to receiving such encouraging words, and to see messages from familiar names.
Tomorrow we leave for annual conference in Roanoke, VA. I'm not sure if I'll have internet access or not, but I'll get you up to date eventually.
As always, Paz y Amor. -Nicole
Sra. de la Rosa and I hosted a slumber party last night-- Elena and her little sister Jesabel spent the night with us. We had a wonderful time grocery shopping together, preparing dinner, and getting ready for bed. The girls woke up with us at 4:45 this morning to pick more strawberries for the Latino community. We pulled up to the church at 5:30 in the morning and I was shocked to see a group of 10-12 people waiting for us. That's one thing that has really impressed me and really stuck with me about the community here-- they are ready and willing to help Sra. de la Rosa with anything she needs; they are eager to be involved, even if it means rising before the sun to spend hours in the fields picking fresas. Seeing such dedicated, hard-working people has caused me to reflect a lot about my own work-ethic, my own willingness to jump in and volunteer especially for tasks that are less than appealing to me.
Anyways, the strawberry picking was tiring but rewarding. The best part is retunrning home and driving through the Latino community, asking anyone and everyone, "?Le gustarian fresas?" There is much to be said about providing food for people who struggle to put it on the table. Sra. de la Rosa is constantly sending bread/pastries/fruits/drinks home with people. We walked into church the other morning to find boxes and boxes of bread/cakes/doughnuts.
I asked her, "Pastora Martha, where did all this come from?"
She replied, "We have many angels, Nicole."
And being here, it really does seem like there are angels in our midst. Food comes from nowhere and we are able to send it home with people who truly need it, people whose faces show their gratitude and the relief they feel to hold a bag of food or a box of produce in their hands that they can bring home to their families. I have learned much by being here, by watching, by listening, by serving.
I am so grateful to live in community with everyone here. I am even beginning to feel part of the community. The more I'm here, the more I understand the things going on around me, the more I can communicate with and relate to the families I'm in contact with, and the more the children around me open up to me and trust me with their thoughts and worries, their joys and their fears.
Thank you for your thoughts, your prayers, and your comments on my blog. You have no idea how wonderful it is to receiving such encouraging words, and to see messages from familiar names.
Tomorrow we leave for annual conference in Roanoke, VA. I'm not sure if I'll have internet access or not, but I'll get you up to date eventually.
As always, Paz y Amor. -Nicole
6.13.2008
Reflection
Today was a beautiful, restful, refreshing day-- exactly the kind of day I needed to regroup from the frustrations and doubts I felt yesterday.
Sra. de la Rosa left me at the house in the morning. She took Elena to another doctor's appointment, this time to take a look at some trouble she's had hearing over the years. The two ended up getting caught up at the doctor's and then at the church for most of the day. This left me time to rest, read, pray, write-- everything I love, everything I needed to regain a sense of confidence in why I am here.
I've begun to re-read two very valuable, insightful books to me: Henrey Nouwen's In the Name of Jesus and Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Life Together. Both spoke volumes to me and really met me where I was this morning. Nouwen's words encouraged me once again to let go of my need to be relevant, and to own my identity as God's child apart from my accomplishments/abilities/talents. I needed to hear that my identity rests solely on God's great love for me, because if left solely to my relevance here in Winchester, I'm afraid I wouldn't be worth too much. It's so difficult having a language barrier to confront; not only do I feel inadequate at the church working with parents, but also at home-- Sra. de la Rosa's son and daughter-in-law are both deaf, so I spend much of my time around them smiling like an idiot, wishing I could ask them questions, hear stories, but feeling completely limited by my lack of knowledge and skill as far as Sign Language goes. The beautiful thing, though, is that God is forcing me to deal with this need I have to be relevant by making me completely irrelevant. I literally have nothing to rely on here other than my vulnerable self whose presence I offer and hope, in turn, the community will accept and affirm simply because I, like them, am God's.
And you know, so far they have. Everyone has made me feel so welcome and accepted. Naomi, Sr. de la Rosa's daughter-in-law, sat across the table from me for an hour and asked me questions, helped me sign, read my lips when I had trouble. And when we had nothing to say to each other she just sat and smiled at me, showing me that she understood and didn't blame me for not knowing more, for feeling uncomfortable, for sitting and smiling awkwardly back at her.
On top of having to grow, and having to accept that my worth rests not in the things I can do, the tasks I can preform, the facts I can spout off in a meeting or class or crowd, God has given me a yearning for God's presence and assurance that I have not felt in a long while. Feeling so insecure throughout the day has caused me to cling to the moments I spend in prayer and devotion, the moments I feel completely affirmed, adequate, accepted. Bonhoeffer says righteousness must always come from outside ourselves, from God's Word spoken to us, and I'm learning, at rapid speed, the truth of this insight. My adequacy will never come from myself because I will never be able to be all things for all people, will never be able to be perfect or all-knowing at any one thing (can't believe it took me 21 years to figure that one out..) So really, the only place to look is to God, to Christ, to the one who created all things, looked upon all things, looked upon me, and said, "It is good."
Trusting in that voice of love and affirmation is the most challenging, most beautiful thing I've yet to do, and it has become even more of a challenge and even more of a joy since I've arrived here in Winchester and been thrown out of my comfort zone and onto a path I've never traveled before. Pray that I find endurance for this incredible journey God is leading me on.
Until Tomorrow,
Nicole
Sra. de la Rosa left me at the house in the morning. She took Elena to another doctor's appointment, this time to take a look at some trouble she's had hearing over the years. The two ended up getting caught up at the doctor's and then at the church for most of the day. This left me time to rest, read, pray, write-- everything I love, everything I needed to regain a sense of confidence in why I am here.
I've begun to re-read two very valuable, insightful books to me: Henrey Nouwen's In the Name of Jesus and Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Life Together. Both spoke volumes to me and really met me where I was this morning. Nouwen's words encouraged me once again to let go of my need to be relevant, and to own my identity as God's child apart from my accomplishments/abilities/talents. I needed to hear that my identity rests solely on God's great love for me, because if left solely to my relevance here in Winchester, I'm afraid I wouldn't be worth too much. It's so difficult having a language barrier to confront; not only do I feel inadequate at the church working with parents, but also at home-- Sra. de la Rosa's son and daughter-in-law are both deaf, so I spend much of my time around them smiling like an idiot, wishing I could ask them questions, hear stories, but feeling completely limited by my lack of knowledge and skill as far as Sign Language goes. The beautiful thing, though, is that God is forcing me to deal with this need I have to be relevant by making me completely irrelevant. I literally have nothing to rely on here other than my vulnerable self whose presence I offer and hope, in turn, the community will accept and affirm simply because I, like them, am God's.
And you know, so far they have. Everyone has made me feel so welcome and accepted. Naomi, Sr. de la Rosa's daughter-in-law, sat across the table from me for an hour and asked me questions, helped me sign, read my lips when I had trouble. And when we had nothing to say to each other she just sat and smiled at me, showing me that she understood and didn't blame me for not knowing more, for feeling uncomfortable, for sitting and smiling awkwardly back at her.
On top of having to grow, and having to accept that my worth rests not in the things I can do, the tasks I can preform, the facts I can spout off in a meeting or class or crowd, God has given me a yearning for God's presence and assurance that I have not felt in a long while. Feeling so insecure throughout the day has caused me to cling to the moments I spend in prayer and devotion, the moments I feel completely affirmed, adequate, accepted. Bonhoeffer says righteousness must always come from outside ourselves, from God's Word spoken to us, and I'm learning, at rapid speed, the truth of this insight. My adequacy will never come from myself because I will never be able to be all things for all people, will never be able to be perfect or all-knowing at any one thing (can't believe it took me 21 years to figure that one out..) So really, the only place to look is to God, to Christ, to the one who created all things, looked upon all things, looked upon me, and said, "It is good."
Trusting in that voice of love and affirmation is the most challenging, most beautiful thing I've yet to do, and it has become even more of a challenge and even more of a joy since I've arrived here in Winchester and been thrown out of my comfort zone and onto a path I've never traveled before. Pray that I find endurance for this incredible journey God is leading me on.
Until Tomorrow,
Nicole
Frustration
In the spirit of Anne Lamott, (whom I've been reading lately) I'll be blunt: yesterday was frustrating.
I'm not used to working 12-hour days, not good at saying no, not used to the foods here, not comfortable with the language, not connected with Jeff (his phone has been broken for the past 3 days and I'm missing out on Ichthus, and the arrival of his CDs, and anything else exciting that I've yet to hear about). The introvert in me is still figuring out how to be around people all day long and not be entirely worn out (especially because I'm working alongside a 60-year-old woman who has diabetes and is in remission from cancer and who seems to have more energy and a greater capacity to give than I can seem to muster up). I'm not used to feeling inadequate, insecure, or just down right dumb.
So there's my vent session, Anne. (I think you'd be proud, though you may have sprinkled it with some curse words or other unforseen offenses had you been the one typing).
As good as it feels to get all that out, I want to be clear: It's not that I'm not excited or grateful to be here, I am, wholeheartedly, but I'm still getting adjusted to life in Winchester, still getting acquainted with the different cultures that surround me, still learning to be comfortable in someone else's home, in someone else's community, as part of someone else's life.
I do think God is teaching me to stop being so ridiculously independent. I'm used to being able to rely on myself in so many different areas of my life-- now I have to rely on others for just about everything: food, transportation, direction, scheduling, the ability to communicate with the people around me. I think the need for so much dependence just hit me all at once yesterday and left me feeling incredibly frustrated and inadequate in certain regards.
I love that Pastora Martha asks me to jump in and participate even if I am not entirely prepared to do the things she asks of me. Like yesterday, she had me calling homes of people who strictly speak Spanish, telling them about the summer program, and asking them to come to the church to register their children. Okay, not that hard of a task, IF I UNDERSTOOD/SPOKE VERY MUCH SPANISH! After a few calls I got my end of the conversation polished up nicely-- I knew how to say what I wanted to say-- but I certainly wasn't prepared for the fast-paced tongues flying back at me on the other end with questions, comments, concerns, none of which I understood or had even the faintest idea how to respond to.
I think I'm just used to your typical American culture. Everywhere I've ever worked or volunteered, we've valued efficiency. Get the most qualified person to do the job, and the class/business/program will run smoothly, the customers will be satisfied, and everyone will go home feeling good about themselves. Well, apparently Sra. de la Rosa has a different view of how things should be run here at Amor y Paz. She involves everyone, well-equipped or not, asks all to contribute, to participate, even if it means leaving our comfort zones, feeling insecure, making fools of ourselves.
I guess I'm just in the process of learning how to be a fool and be okay with it.
I'm not used to working 12-hour days, not good at saying no, not used to the foods here, not comfortable with the language, not connected with Jeff (his phone has been broken for the past 3 days and I'm missing out on Ichthus, and the arrival of his CDs, and anything else exciting that I've yet to hear about). The introvert in me is still figuring out how to be around people all day long and not be entirely worn out (especially because I'm working alongside a 60-year-old woman who has diabetes and is in remission from cancer and who seems to have more energy and a greater capacity to give than I can seem to muster up). I'm not used to feeling inadequate, insecure, or just down right dumb.
So there's my vent session, Anne. (I think you'd be proud, though you may have sprinkled it with some curse words or other unforseen offenses had you been the one typing).
As good as it feels to get all that out, I want to be clear: It's not that I'm not excited or grateful to be here, I am, wholeheartedly, but I'm still getting adjusted to life in Winchester, still getting acquainted with the different cultures that surround me, still learning to be comfortable in someone else's home, in someone else's community, as part of someone else's life.
I do think God is teaching me to stop being so ridiculously independent. I'm used to being able to rely on myself in so many different areas of my life-- now I have to rely on others for just about everything: food, transportation, direction, scheduling, the ability to communicate with the people around me. I think the need for so much dependence just hit me all at once yesterday and left me feeling incredibly frustrated and inadequate in certain regards.
I love that Pastora Martha asks me to jump in and participate even if I am not entirely prepared to do the things she asks of me. Like yesterday, she had me calling homes of people who strictly speak Spanish, telling them about the summer program, and asking them to come to the church to register their children. Okay, not that hard of a task, IF I UNDERSTOOD/SPOKE VERY MUCH SPANISH! After a few calls I got my end of the conversation polished up nicely-- I knew how to say what I wanted to say-- but I certainly wasn't prepared for the fast-paced tongues flying back at me on the other end with questions, comments, concerns, none of which I understood or had even the faintest idea how to respond to.
I think I'm just used to your typical American culture. Everywhere I've ever worked or volunteered, we've valued efficiency. Get the most qualified person to do the job, and the class/business/program will run smoothly, the customers will be satisfied, and everyone will go home feeling good about themselves. Well, apparently Sra. de la Rosa has a different view of how things should be run here at Amor y Paz. She involves everyone, well-equipped or not, asks all to contribute, to participate, even if it means leaving our comfort zones, feeling insecure, making fools of ourselves.
I guess I'm just in the process of learning how to be a fool and be okay with it.
6.10.2008
Loving Winchester
Today was another jam-packed day con Pastora Martha. (I'm definitely coming to the realization that every day with Sra. de la Rosa will be filled to the brim, which I have to say is exciting and beautiful because this woman truly gives every day to God, and the church, and the community around her).
So today, as I'm learning is the norm, we did many things. First, we took one of the girls from the church's after school program to the doctor's office. Elena (or so we'll call her) has had trouble seeing and hearing for many years now. Unfortunately, doctors have refused to see her up until today because she has no social security number, and they fear getting involved in the whole immigrant situation. Sra. de la Rosa has been working with the family for quite some time now, trying to get all this resolved and get Elena the medical attention she needs, but it wasn't until the school called (trying to involve social services and claim that it's Elena's parent's fault that she has not had proper medical attention) that Sra. de la Rosa was able to get all the necessary paperwork for a doctor to be willing to see and to treat Elena. Needless to say, it was an exciting day-- watching the doctor's office accept Elena, seeing her mother's relief when they did not object to treating her daughter, taking them to pick out Elena's first pair of glasses. The whole experience really opened my eyes to all the things I take for granted, and to the ways I am still naive to the experiences and challenges of the families I am now living in community with.
After dropping Elena and her mother off, Pasora Martha y yo went to the church to meet the ESL class that meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I had the chance to meet more women in the community, and once again they were very kind and welcoming, though the language barrier definitely still exists. I racked my brain trying to think up conversation starters, and we did make some small talk, but I'm definitely hoping to develop my social skills as time goes on.
After preparing snacks for the ESL class, Pastora Martha and I took two of the mothers to the social services department to ask about the Medicaid forms they were waiting on. Again, the whole experience opened my eyes to the things I've never had to think or worry about-- it's one thing to think about Medicaid on a level removed from the people it affects, but to see the little boy who can't get in to see a doctor because someone has yet to send the promised documents to his parents is a whole other ball game.
Pastora Martha got things figured out for the families rather quickly (they should be receiving their documents in the next week or so) and we were on our way to a 4th grade graduation ceremony to support some of the children in the community. (I forgot to mention that all this time Sra. de la Rosa has had me driving the church's 15-passenger van. I told her I'd need to practice before I cart the kids around this summer, so she pulled off to the side of the road, hopped out, and had me "practice" the rest of the day. Though I can't say my idea of "practicing" was carting around mothers and their babies, still completely insecure about driving such a large vehicle). Pero, we made it safe and sound, and I even parallel parked the thing a few times. :)
After the graduation ceremony, Pastora Martha, Jaqueline (a beautiful 5-year-old nina who I became acquainted with throughout the day), and I grabbed a quick bite to eat, picked up Sra. de la Rosa's car from the shop, and headed to the church for the after school program. The children came shortly after we arrived-- they are smart, energetic, and so much fun to be around. We played games, ate dinner, got to know one another. I also had the chance to meet a number of volunteers who work with the children-- everyone is so kind, so giving, so in love with the work they do.
After the children went home for the day, I played with Jaqueline and her brother, Carlos, while Sra. de la Rosa met with some families from the church. Once everyone had filtered out, we dropped the kids by their house and headed home where we made some coffee, looked at pictures together, and talked about all the people I had met throughout the day.
I am falling in love with the people here, the church, the community-- everything. I love that I've begun to use Spanich articles when I'm speaking in English; I love that I pulled up to Sra. de la Rosa's house today and thought how good it was to be home; I love that I get to say to the children, "Hasta pronto," and really know that I'll see them shortly; I love that they call me Miss Nicole, love hearing the stories that surround them, love waking up and wondering what Pastora Martha will have in store for us, who we'll get to talk with, drive around, give food, or time, or listening ears to. I love the ministry of presence Sra. de la Rosa has created here in Winchester. I am learning so much from the people, the encounters, the stories-- I can't wait to share more as the summer continues. I hope all is well at home.
Paz y Amor Mis Amigos y Mi Familia,
Nicole
So today, as I'm learning is the norm, we did many things. First, we took one of the girls from the church's after school program to the doctor's office. Elena (or so we'll call her) has had trouble seeing and hearing for many years now. Unfortunately, doctors have refused to see her up until today because she has no social security number, and they fear getting involved in the whole immigrant situation. Sra. de la Rosa has been working with the family for quite some time now, trying to get all this resolved and get Elena the medical attention she needs, but it wasn't until the school called (trying to involve social services and claim that it's Elena's parent's fault that she has not had proper medical attention) that Sra. de la Rosa was able to get all the necessary paperwork for a doctor to be willing to see and to treat Elena. Needless to say, it was an exciting day-- watching the doctor's office accept Elena, seeing her mother's relief when they did not object to treating her daughter, taking them to pick out Elena's first pair of glasses. The whole experience really opened my eyes to all the things I take for granted, and to the ways I am still naive to the experiences and challenges of the families I am now living in community with.
After dropping Elena and her mother off, Pasora Martha y yo went to the church to meet the ESL class that meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I had the chance to meet more women in the community, and once again they were very kind and welcoming, though the language barrier definitely still exists. I racked my brain trying to think up conversation starters, and we did make some small talk, but I'm definitely hoping to develop my social skills as time goes on.
After preparing snacks for the ESL class, Pastora Martha and I took two of the mothers to the social services department to ask about the Medicaid forms they were waiting on. Again, the whole experience opened my eyes to the things I've never had to think or worry about-- it's one thing to think about Medicaid on a level removed from the people it affects, but to see the little boy who can't get in to see a doctor because someone has yet to send the promised documents to his parents is a whole other ball game.
Pastora Martha got things figured out for the families rather quickly (they should be receiving their documents in the next week or so) and we were on our way to a 4th grade graduation ceremony to support some of the children in the community. (I forgot to mention that all this time Sra. de la Rosa has had me driving the church's 15-passenger van. I told her I'd need to practice before I cart the kids around this summer, so she pulled off to the side of the road, hopped out, and had me "practice" the rest of the day. Though I can't say my idea of "practicing" was carting around mothers and their babies, still completely insecure about driving such a large vehicle). Pero, we made it safe and sound, and I even parallel parked the thing a few times. :)
After the graduation ceremony, Pastora Martha, Jaqueline (a beautiful 5-year-old nina who I became acquainted with throughout the day), and I grabbed a quick bite to eat, picked up Sra. de la Rosa's car from the shop, and headed to the church for the after school program. The children came shortly after we arrived-- they are smart, energetic, and so much fun to be around. We played games, ate dinner, got to know one another. I also had the chance to meet a number of volunteers who work with the children-- everyone is so kind, so giving, so in love with the work they do.
After the children went home for the day, I played with Jaqueline and her brother, Carlos, while Sra. de la Rosa met with some families from the church. Once everyone had filtered out, we dropped the kids by their house and headed home where we made some coffee, looked at pictures together, and talked about all the people I had met throughout the day.
I am falling in love with the people here, the church, the community-- everything. I love that I've begun to use Spanich articles when I'm speaking in English; I love that I pulled up to Sra. de la Rosa's house today and thought how good it was to be home; I love that I get to say to the children, "Hasta pronto," and really know that I'll see them shortly; I love that they call me Miss Nicole, love hearing the stories that surround them, love waking up and wondering what Pastora Martha will have in store for us, who we'll get to talk with, drive around, give food, or time, or listening ears to. I love the ministry of presence Sra. de la Rosa has created here in Winchester. I am learning so much from the people, the encounters, the stories-- I can't wait to share more as the summer continues. I hope all is well at home.
Paz y Amor Mis Amigos y Mi Familia,
Nicole
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