That's All She Wrote

This is it everyone.  The end of the tracks, the final stop, the last float of the parade.  Friday, I will hop on an airplane, wave a final goodbye, and begin my long adventurous voyage home.

Ok, so it's not really a final goodbye, per se.  I know I'll be back. I just don't know when exactly.  So it's going to be more like, "So long, Costa Rica. Catch ya later for coffee sometime." That makes it much easier, thinking of it as only leaving for now.  Yes, I like that very much.

And just to say it, I have had the time of my life here this past year.  Ok, thank you Captain Obvious.  But seriously, I cannot express how amazing and life changing this year has been.  For one thing, my hair is longer, I'm a coffee addict and I like to play soccer.  That is a completely different Kelsey from before :). On a more serious level, I've learned more about who I am and what it means to live out my faith, to seek justice for those whose voices are silenced, to love those who are shunned and different.  I have been challenged in nearly everything I believed in, and I've become stronger because of it. And not only stronger, I've become more alive.  I've never felt this alive in a very long time, ready to face the world, to learn more, to do something.  I'm excited to see what this coming year has in store for me, that's for sure!

So what do I get to look forward to in these coming days, weeks, months?  Well, to boil it down: a lot!  Friday I fly to San Salvador, El Salvador for a few day stop to visit the first Central American country I visited (outside of Costa Rica) and see some very good friends of mine.  From there I'll hop on a bus and go north to Guatemala City to spend time with friends, quick have a couple work meetings with Jim, Rachel and Co. and participate in the first Masters intensive with my fellow classmates (btw, I made it into the Urban Ministries Masters program--yay!).  From there Rachel and I will meander our way north through Mexico by bus, stopping several times along the way to meet up with friends and acquaintances and seeing what their ministries are up to.  If all goes well we should hit the Mexico-California border before Christmas.  If not, well, we'll just have to hunker down with some friends and spend Christmas with them Mexico style :) I'll then spend some time with Rachel family in California before finally making my way home to Michigan soil. Ummm, I mean snow.  So I'll be seeing all of your pretty, frost bitten faces sometime in early January.  Someone please bring a winter coat for me to the airport! And mittens.  And a hat.  And maybe a hot water bottle and one of those electric blanket things.  Thanks!

Please pray for safe travels, for Rachel and I to have a blast, and for the bus rides to not be too terribly long and boring.  Please also pray for me as I come to the end of my time here.  I hate goodbyes, let alone goodbye parties, and this week is going to be chucked full of them.  Please pray that I'll be able to find joy through the tears and comfort in the thought that it's not a goodbye for good.  Just for now.

See you all when I get back!

Cross-Cultural Engagment

My family left yesterday, flew home to snow and the threat of tornados, hopefully bringing home with them a new sense of understanding and interest with regards to traveling, Costa Rica, and my life here. I had an absolute blast with them, watching them engage the strange and different world around them, being with them as they felt awkward and uncomfortable in new settings and situations.  To say the least, they were great students :)

Today, I want use them as an example to discuss the topic of cross-cultural engagement.

Engagement, not just passive witnessing.

To be engaged in something means to fully apply oneself--heart, mind and soul.  No aloofness, no reservations, no judgement allowed at this engagement party.  Here, we are diving in, not with swimmies strapped to our arms, but fully submerging into the clear blue water before us.  We need to feel that cool water against our skin, taste its saltiness on our tongues, be swept away by the currents swirling around us.  

Diving in is, in my opinion, the only true way of getting to know something.  You can read about Paris, for example, all you want in your textbooks, about its history, its culture, its landscape.  But you can't really know it until you've been there, until you've sat in the shade of the Eiffel Tower, until you've ordered a pastry in broken French, until you've gotten lost on the windy streets that make up the city.  And even then, that's only scratching the surface of that life.  

But it's a start.

So I want to challenge everyone of us to take that dive today, in whatever new environment you may find yourself in.  Going on vacation?  Don't get sucked into the tourist life and forget to experience how the locals live outside those safe and colorful walls.  Visiting a new church?  Make sure you sing as loud with the rest of them, yell Amen! when they yell Amen!, and praise our Lord right alongside of them.  Visiting Grandma at the nursing home?  Well, give her a hug and chat with her, and with her neighbor, and with those in the hallways because they too live there and need some company every once in a while.  

And so what if you feel weird, or uncomfortable, or scared?  WE ALL DO.  I still do every day and I've lived here in Costa Rica for over a year.  But I try to not let that stop me from experiencing the world around me.  Jesus doesn't want our fears to rule our lives.  He doesn't want us to be confined to live in the comfort of our homes.  Jesus himself walked the dusty streets of Jerusalem and the rest of Israel, engaging people as he walked, asking questions, lending a helping hand.  He's the example we should follow.

So I say let's follow in his dusty footsteps.  Let's walk the streets, engaging the people and the culture as we go along.  Let's learn and let's be amazed.

Stay tuned!

A Trip to the Mountains

This past weekend I had one the most AMAZING experiences of my life: a tenting trip to the mountains of Costa Rica!  It was North America meets Central America in a true mash-up of cultures, my non-Spanish speaking family on one end and the non-English speaking Solís family on the other.  And let me tell you, it was a BLAST!

(Back) Kendall, Susi, Francisco, Dad, Grandpa, Me
(Front) Ashly, Beppe, Mom, Rachel

The family of two of our kids in the Bola Bola project, Kendall and Ashly Solís, invited me and my family to go with them to camp on their family’s property, the chance for everyone to experience the rural beauty of Costa Rica.  There were 12 of us in total: Beppe, Grandpa, Dad, Mom, me, Rachel, Susi, Kendall, Ashly, Santiago (their little brother), Francisco (their dad), and Isabel (their mom).  Not to mention the several relatives we met along the way.  What we lacked in electricity and bathrooms, we more than made up for it with rain, mud, bug spray, cows, and laughter.  With nothing but the green tropical wilderness as our friend, we enjoyed the blazing warmth of a campfire, the savory goodness of long-roasted chicharrón (pork), the sticky sweetness of s’mores, and the pleasure of good company.  The Solís family was our guide, taking us to see waterfalls, rivers, forests, and all sorts of other natural wonders.  They also fed us like royalty, offering all sorts of new fruits and vegetables to try (and fresh milk from the cows that morning and homemade cheese and tortillas).  To say the least, we were stuffed the whole weekend!

One of my favorite moments though was watching my family interact with those they couldn’t really understand, to see them struggle with the amount of hospitality that was extended to them, to come to terms with the beauty of a simple rural lifestyle and being welcomed with open arms into their homes.  And they were great!  I am so proud of the way they were genuinely interested in learning more about the Costa Rican culture they were experiencing around them.  More than that, I am so incredibly proud of the humility and respect I saw them have for Isabel, Francisco, Kendall, Ashly and their relatives.   I was not embarrassed to have my family there, despite their newness and lack of exposure to a Latin culture.  They were the best tourists in my opinion, trying the strange looking food offered to them, smiling and nodding when no translators were nearby, trudging through the muddy paths without complaint, sleeping under the stars with strangers by their sides.  I can’t express the joy and pride I feel right now for them—thank you for being so awesome!

This week I get to enjoy my family for a few more days, traveling and sightseeing as well as sharing with them my life here at Casa Adobe.  Please pray for safe travels and good times for all!  Stay tuned!

The Power of Words

I love words.  I love the taste of them, the flavor each can have in the salad mixture of sentences, paragraphs, stories.  I love the sweep of their inky borders, capturing the commonplace, the quotidian, the ordinary events of everyday life.  I love how words and language bring us together in an act of sharing, of understanding, of creating, of imagining.  Writing, reading, speaking are all very communal events.  Yes, there’s an author… BUT there is also an audience.  Words can build and construct; they can catch fire and spread; they can inspire and enlighten.  Words are beautiful. 

I also hate words.  I hate how one moment they can be so constructive and then, quite sporadically sometimes, they change course and leave a path of destruction in their wake.  They catch fire and spread movements of such passion and yet sometimes, without care, words blaze onward and burn those they touch.  Ideas crumble.  Hope disintegrates.  Beauty turns to ash.  Words are very very dangerous.

But I am not naïve nor in denial.  Words do not act out of their own volition.  They are neither to be praised for their ingenuity nor blamed for their capacity for destruction.  For words are wielded by us.  We are their source of ingenuity and destruction.  We are the tool-masters and the weapons-wielders.

And I need to confess that I have not been a wise wordsmith.  I have used words in beautiful ways, yes, with writing and reading and whatnot.  I have sadly also used words to put others down, to crush them beneath my foot, to hurt them more than they hurt me.  I have lashed out, flippantly throwing words here and there, a chaotic swirl of ill-intent and pain.  I have also managed to unintentionally hurt others, so unaware the effect my words had on the ears they reached, so unaware that I was adding to the pain, confusion, discomfort that was already there.  In my state of such oblivious existence, I have alienated, mocked, and judged those I should have embraced.

And for this I am sorry.

Today, I want to move forward and vow to be a better wielder of words.  To understand and appreciate the weight my words have on the relationships I have with others.  To believe that my words can destroy and to believe even more strongly that my words can build.  I feel that the gift of words, of language, was bestowed so graciously upon us by God and I feel as if I have abused that gift.  I want to change that, to walk through each day with the forever present reminder that I have words that I can share to either dignify the people I interact with… or hurt them.  I hope I forever choose the former.

On a side note, this week is my birthday and my family is coming to visit me!  Pray for safe travels and a fun time for all.

Stay tuned!

It's Official!

It’s Official!—October 29

It’s official, folks!  I am leaving the country on the 29^th of November.  BUT I won’t actually be Stateside until Christmas time… :)

On the 29^th I’ll be flying north to San Salvador, El Salvador to stay for a few days with some friends, to eat some pupusas and all around enjoy Salvadoran culture.  From there I’ll make my way one more country north to Guatemala to meet up with Rachel and other friends.  This will be my first trip to Guate and I plan on enjoying the time exploring the cultural context as well as seeing what some partner mission agencies are up to.  There will also be a few work meetings scattered in there and who knows what else.  From Guatemala, Rachel and I will hop on a bus north to Mexico where we will go city hopping, from Chiapas to Mexico City to Tijuana.  We have many friends and contacts at every stop who can both host us and show us around.  It should be a blast!  Eventually we’ll make it to California (our goal is before Christmas) where I’ll spend some time with Rachel and her family at their home in Santa Barbara.  Then, when I’ve had my fun, I’ll fly home to chilly Michigan sometime in early January.  Save some hot cocoa for me!

You may have also heard that I will be returning to Central America next year.  Fact.  But first I get to spend 5 months at home, so don’t worry about me running off just yet!  I won’t leave Michigan until early June, which leaves plenty of time for us to catch up.  And, I don’t want to give away any of the details just yet, but I’m cooking up some fun things to do once I’m in Michigan.  And by fun, I mean educationally fun…  don’t turn your nose up just yet—it’ll be very worthwhile.  I’ll make sure of it. 

Guiss and I in Leon

You may have also noticed that I didn’t update my blog last week, and I apologize for that.  I was not actually in the country at the time and so I was unable to write anything.  But I’m back now.  Last week, Rachel and I went north to León, Nicaragua to visit Guissell as well as my new bosses.  Yep, next June I’m moving to Nicaragua!  This time, I’ll be working as a partner missionary with the Nehemiah Center (http://nehemiahcenter.net/) which means no more volunteer status!  Working my way up the professional ladder, as it were.  And I am absolutely thrilled with my job description!  I get to work with the Nehemiah Center’s cross-cultural educational programs, ranging from high school students to adults, from one-week trips to semesters abroad to long-term internships.  I get to put not only my anthropological background to use but also my experience here in Costa Rica.  To boil it down, I’ll be helping to design and develop better ways to experience living in a new context to ensure that participants get the best out of every moment.  I want them to feel like they can take something home with them and not feel forever stuck in the tourist phase of cross-cultural exposure.  The idea is NOT to have them come down to Central America to change the world.  The idea is for them to be changed by Central America.  And then go home and plug-in to their communities, sharing their new perspectives, ideas, and experiences.  We want to create people who become newly dedicated to their North American contexts, contexts where they have the advantage of being local experts (rather than being naïve outsiders).  Slogan: Live in a new context to learn how to appreciate your own context.  Leave, be liberated, return, liberate others.  As I’ve said before, missions is not just for far off countries.  Let’s not forget about our own backyards, our own neighbors, our own homes. 

And I’m so thankful that I get to be a part of it :)

For those of you who hate paragraphs, here’s a bullet-point summary:

• I’m leaving Costa Rica on November 29 to begin a bus trip north
• I’ll be in the United States (California) by Christmas
• I’ll be back in Michigan by early January
• I’ll be moving to León, Nicaragua sometime early June (details above)
• And I have no idea how long I’ll be there :)

Stay tuned!

Dead or Alive?

Katherine, Me, Kendall

This past Saturday a small group of us ventured up into the mountains not for a hike but rather to participate in workshop on community development and faith.  Rachel, Kendall (one of our Bola Bola leaders), Katherine (a short-term intern at Casa Adobe) and I had the special privilege to sit alongside fellow brothers and sisters in Christ to hear what Lois Ooms had to teach us.  Lois was a long-time missionary in several countries in Africa before she recently moved back to the States.  Ever since, she has traveled the world giving these seminars, sharing her experiences, and teaching others how to “do missions” better. 

I learned a lot from her colorful anecdotes and potent life examples, hearing how these shaped her view of missions and faith.  One of the things that really stuck out in my mind though was the idea of holistic reconciliation and redemption.  She showed us this diagram, illustrating the relationships humans were created to have and how they looked before and after the Fall.  Before the Fall, our relationships were concrete and stable; after, they became distorted and warped, though not fully destroyed.  And therein lies our hope: our relationships are NOT FULLY BROKEN and so they can be mended and healed.  Every single person in this world, believer or not, bears the image of the Trinity and NOTHING can destroy that.  No person is ever too far gone for healing and reconciliation to reach them.  There is always hope.

Another thing we talked about was what a healthy, alive church looked like in comparison to a dead one.  A dead church is full of people, worshiping in an orderly fashion, focused very much on renewing one’s personal relationship with God.  Unfortunately, that’s where the blessings end; dead churches forget that one’s relationship with God is not all there is.  We humans were not made to be isolated little creatures wandering the earth focusing only on our Creater (though that is important).  No, God made us to live in community, not only with other humans but also with the earth.  And those relationships have become distorted as well; they too need healing.  A church that focuses too much on reconciling their relationship with God becomes closed off to the world around them; the walls become thick, the doors shut, the windows sealed.  The Church becomes the building itself, a place to go to restore one’s spiritual life—nothing more.  This is what a dead church looks like.  A white-washed tomb—beautiful on the outside, full of people on the inside, but VOID OF LIFE. 

An alive church is much different.  In these churches, the Church is the people not the building.  Their congregations are the ones out living in the streets, being with people, seeking reconciliation in all relationships.  Members are active in all areas of life: education, politics, society, the environment, culture, development, economics.  No area exists apart from God’s sovereign reach, and where he is his followers are also.  Coming together in communion with fellow believers is their spiritual bread, their motivation, their energy.  Believers come to church to be fed so that they can be renewed to begin again, ready to face the world and the challenges that lie ahead.  Not only that but believers come to gain insight, encouragement, and support from fellow believers.  It is this give-and-receive dynamic that defines a healthy church, an ebb and flow of never-ending movement  between church and community.  One’s faith is not limited by walls anymore.

During the conference, Lois asked us what our churches were like: dead or alive?  Or somewhere in between?  She then reminded us that no matter how bleak the outlook, no person, no church, no society, no system is ever too far gone for reconciliation and healing.  We should never give up hope and we never stop trying.  This is our calling as followers of a just Father, a healer Son, and a moving Spirit.

Stay tuned!

We are People

I read something this week, something that initially I thought to be quite wise and insightful.  Something about it nagged me though, rubbed me the wrong way, made me uncomfortable.  The more I thought about it, the more I disliked it.  Seriously, what an idiotic thing to say… 

It’s a quote from our dear Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt, a wise and wonderful women held in high regard in our culture.  However, not everything a famous person says makes it good.  Here’s what she had to say:

“Great minds discuss ideas;

average minds discuss events;

small minds discuss people.”

 

And I disagree.  Entirely. 

It is people that God made, people that God loves, people that he tenderly created and cares for.  The church is made of people.  The world is full of them.  History has been shaped by them.  The future will be determined by them. 

We are people. 

And to discuss us is not an error; it’s not shallow, not simple-minded, not dumb.  Sure, this type of conversation can be all of those things—it can be abused, used to spread rumors, hate, despair.  But it can also be constructive. 

The second we stop to talk about the people and look only to events and ideas is the moment we lose our humanity.  We essentially take a giant Pink Pearl Banford© eraser and rub away the face of the problem.  Ideas become grand generalizations belonging to someone else, to another time, another existence.  Problems that arise from the discussions of ideas become someone else’s responsibility.  If we have no faces and no names to identify with, why should we care?  Poverty, homosexuality, abuse, globalization, freedom, peace, liberty, love—these are all faceless if we don’t talk about the people who are affected by them every single day.  Otherwise, the victims of these ideas remain voiceless, amorphous blobs of un-identity forever stuck in a state of non-existence and injustice.    

It is for the people that Jesus came to this earth; not for the ideas, not for the events.  He came for us.

So it should say: “Great minds discuss ideas.  Great minds reflect on events.  And even greater minds care how ideas and events affect people… and do something about it.”

Stay tuned!

Not All on the Same Page

Oh wow.  It’s already October.  How did that happen?!  Well then… Happy month of fall colors, hay rides, corn mazes, Halloween parties, apple cider and apple pie :)

So I’ve had the opportunity to chat with many people over the past week and have come to the realization that we are NOT all on the same page.  In fact, some people are a few chapters behind.  So I’ve decided to call an emergency book club recap meeting!   Chapters to discuss today:

1.       When am I returning to Michigan?

2.       Is my family coming to visit me?

3.       Rumors about living in Central America

4.       What am I going to do when I get back?

5.       Study opportunities

6.       Am I really addicted to coffee?

Chapter 1:  I plan on being back on Michigan soil no later than early January.   Well, Michigan snow that is.  I leave Costa Rica the end of November and I will be stopping to visit different organizations and friends in El Salvador, Guatemala, and Mexico.  I will then spend a few days with Rachel’s family at her home in California before flying home.  Exact dates are a little fuzzy yet…

Chapter 2: Yes, my family is coming to visit me.  Family meaning my mom, dad, grandpa, and Beppe.  They get here just after my birthday in November and will help me move out of my house and get ready to come home.  I’m sure they’ll also enjoy the wildlife and culture of Costa Rica :)

Chapter 3:  Ok, so let’s not spread crazy rumors.  Yes, in a previous post I had mentioned that Central America was going to be my new foster home.  I had kind of meant for the next three months.  I didn’t really mean forever.  But, God had a slightly different plan for me.  Just after I wrote that post, I got a job offer from the Nehemiah Center out of Managua, Nicaragua (they’re a partner organization of CRWM).  The job is set to start next June.  Though nothing is set in stone or officialized quite yet, I’m pretty sure I’m going to take the offer.  So, yes, Central America will continue to be my foster home for a while longer.

Chapter 4:  Very good question.  I have lots and lots of plans (insert evil laugh here)!   Recently I’ve been talking with a program out of the CRC home office (called LEAP) about the possibilities of things I could do when I get back home.  Several ideas we’ve come up with so far have been ways for me to talk about my experience here with you all, sharing the lessons I’ve learned (both spiritually and culturally), and seeing if we can’t connect that to the larger picture.  I’d love to link our church to the surrounding community, cross-cultural programs and social justice initiatives—I really want all of us to be actively engaged not only in Wayland but also in West Michigan.  My challenge for all of us is to open our doors, get out there, put our feet to the pavement and get our hands dirty.  WE are the church, not the building.  So, let’s see what cool things we can do together in the next several months :)

Chapter 5:  Another note of news: I’ve applied within the last couple of days to a Master’s Program that will start this coming January.  It’s a fully accredited program through the Institute of Christian Studies out of Toronto, Canada.  It will be a Master of Worldview Studies in Urban Ministry.  The course will be taught by REALLY cool people living out their faith here in Central America, people whom I’ve had the awesome opportunity to meet this past year (like Joel Aguilar, Joel VanDyke, and Jim DeBorst).  And though I only just applied, I have a sneaky suspicion I’ll be accepted :)  If you’re curious, check it out at:  http://www.icscanada.edu/academics/master-of-worldview-studies/urban-ministry

Chapter 6:  Yes.

And so concludes our emergency book club session.  I hope we’re all caught up now.  And PLEASE if you have any questions or comments, let me know!  I am more than willing to spare a few minutes for Q&A.

Please stay tuned!

Good News!

I thought today I’d take the time to update you on our Bola Bola campaign with the kids.

Susi, Me, Kendall, Fabri
(some of our Bola Bola kids)

First off: we got the $20,000 grant from the municipality!!  This is a huge hurdle that we have successfully jumped and it feels great, let me tell you.  The kids are thrilled, Rachel and I are so proud, and the whole community is pleased with our efforts.  We are continuing to spread the news of this most recent success but it seems as if word spreads like wildfire and more people already know about it all than we think.  Now it’s time to celebrate!  We have plans in the making for a time of pizza by the pool for all those who’ve worked hard for this.  I’ll let you know how that goes :)

But… there’s a twist.  Another hurdle to jump.  Another bridge to build and then cross. (Isn’t it always that way?).  The $20,000 isn’t enough to fix the whole court.  According to the Municipality and their fancy plans, it’s only enough to dig up the old court, prepare the ground, and build the roof.  Seriously?!?  What good is a roof when the ground is still a pad of mud?  Ok, I admit, getting a roof is a HUGE accomplishment and we are extremely happy about that. 

What else is there?  Well, we have the roof.  Check.  What we still need is the cement floor (and the painted lines too, please).  And we need fencing (so that we stop losing our soccer balls to the surrounding rooftops).  That’s it, just those three things: roof, floor, fencing.  So, we’re 1/3 of the way done (though the roof will cost the most so maybe we’re more like half done).  Apparently we have more work to do.

Playing soccer in the dark

What now?  We spoke with our local political representative and she told us we might have a chance to ask for another grant yet this year with another governmental body—the district committee (the first grant came from the county committee).  What we have to do is present something so persuasive that they can’t refuse us.  So we’ve begun that process, turned on our creative juices, and got back to work.  We are going to create a video, take pictures, and write up a statistical report on the uses and potential for the court in the community.  It’s going to be epic, I can feel it.  The only thing is, we have to get it done and present it by the end of the year.  Basically, this will be the last thing I do with Bola Bola before I leave in December.  Sniff sniff.  But I am so proud of every one of these kids, for all the hard work they’ve done, for sticking with it when it was hard or boring.  I know I’m leaving this in good hands :)

If you’re interested in hearing more about this campaign and the community organizing theory that’s gone on behind the scenes, let me know.  Rachel, Guissell and I have a blog about it and it’s a great tool to stay in touch with the campaign.  It’s a private blog (to keep away from prying eyes), so I need to send you an invite.  If this interests you at all, just send me you’re email address and I can get you an official invitation.

Stay tuned as we continue to fight for our court and work together to win this!

One Year

First off, a couple of announcements for this week: Happy Independence Day Central America!  And, Happy 25^th Anniversary Mom and Dad!  And finally, Happy 1 Year Kelsey!

So, tomorrow makes one year to the day since I first arrived here in the beautiful country of Costa Rica.  I thought it might be appropriate for me to do some reflecting on what I’ve learned, experienced, seen, done, and loved since then.  And my thoughts on this matter unfortunately are WAY too many and so I can’t include them all here.  Nevertheless, I thought I’d share those that shine the brightest, punch the hardest, and or stick out over and above the others.

To start with, let me just say that I am not the old me anymore.  That Kelsey has officially left the building.  And she ain’t coming back either.  But I’m still me.  Only different.  Like now without thinking I point to things with my lips or chin instead of my fingers.  And living with 16+ people doesn’t phase me anymore.  And now my hair is really long.  You know, things like that :)

Along the way, I’ve seen some amazing places, experienced new and strange cultures and customs, and met some awesome people, many of whom I now call friends.  One of those newfound friends recently posted this quote on her Facebook and I couldn’t agree more: “You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart will always be elsewhere.  That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.”

Susi, Rachel, Guapo, Fabri, Kendall, Me, Tali

So what have I learned?  Well, I’ve learned that EVERYONE has a story, a history, a background.  I’ve learned that I do too, a story that I had not once perceived nor appreciated.  And I’ve learned that we are not the sole owners of our stories—they are meant to be shared, to be spoken aloud, to be collectively learned from.  And each of our stories brings us to God in our own way—our faith becomes very personal when we look at it from this light. 
 

I’ve learned also that God speaks to us in a multitude of different ways and that he is in all things if we only have the eyes to see Him and the ears to hear Him speak.  And this continues to be a big challenge for me.  How are we supposed to see God in the drug addict on the corner, in the consumerist consumed teenager at school, in the manipulative gossiper in town, in the angry preacher at church?  How are we supposed to see Him when someone hurts us, lies to us, or betrays us?  How are we supposed to see God when all we can see is hopelessness, apathy, injustice, inequality, and hate?  I don’t have a textbook answer for you, only to say that He is there and to keep looking.

I’ve also learned that what it means to be a Christian, what it means to live radically as Jesus did, what it means to truly live out my faith.  If I am to follow what I say, what I believe, than living in a life of luxury, comfort, and tranquility is not where I need to be.  If I lived there, I would fall prey too quickly to the complacent, apathetic, blind lifestyle of many lukewarm Christians.  I am not disciplined enough to not need a constant reminder of the fallen world around me, a glaring sign blinking at me reminding me to seek justice in all areas of life, to actively love and live with the crucified peoples of the world.  In light of this weakness, I have decided that I could not morally agree with living in my own cultural context right now.  I have too much to learn, too much to see before I can even begin to entertain that thought.  So, for now, Central America is going to be my new foster home.  And you’re welcome to come visit me anytime :)

Stay tuned!

Perspective

Santo Domingo Graveyard

Cool REALLY old family tomb

Yesterday, Rachel and I took a day off—it was a chance for us to relax a bit, get out in the sun and enjoy where we’re living without feeling so bogged down or tied to our jobs.  It was a welcome breath of fresh air, let me tell you.  As we walked to the bus stop, I spotted a cemetery in the distance and begged Rachel to spare a few minutes to go explore.  From eye to eye all I could take in were the above-ground graves of the departed, many adorned in statues of a humble Mary, a Risen Jesus, Mary and baby Jesus, a cross, or an angel.  In the center of the graveyard were large family tombs, mausoleums towering over the nearby graves, their Greek columns and arched windows stretching to the sky.  And everything was white—white statues, white tombs, white headstones, white plaques.  A literal sea of white washed tombs.  It was an impressive sight and I couldn’t help but remember Jesus giving a warning to all false believers: “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs,which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.  In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.” (Matthew 23: 27-28). 

This past week, I was surprised by many joyous things amidst the trials and difficult times I trudged through.  Small things, at first glance, things that I might usually overlook or take for granted.  Things like harvesting arugula from our garden, having a small campfire, celebrating a birthday, playing a game with friends, listening to new music, cooking dinner, talking with my brother, visiting a church, or getting caught in the rain.  These are the little things that brought flashes of light into my otherwise storm-cloudy days.  And it was these moments that reminded me that there are good things going on outside of my little life bubble right now, and I can experience those too if I just open my eyes to them.

The storm clouds I refer to are issues I have needed to tackle this past week, both issues of my past, my present, and my future.  Luckily, these issues in the past have hit me at separate times, each devouring my attention and energy but nonetheless at separate times from each other.  This past week however they all threw a party in my name, a party that I could not not attend.  And so I’ve felt pulled in many directions at once and have found it difficult to find my feet on this slippery ground.  And what I’ve realized is that I have become bogged down by all the little decisions I need to face without focusing on the bigger goal ahead.  In community organizing we call this becoming too fixated on the tactics and forgetting about the overall strategy.  And I have fallen victim to this.  And not only have I in my personal life, but so has Bola Bola in the life of our campaign.  We have become so distracted (and by consequence bogged down) by the little activities, the small tactics, that we have lost sight of our campaign strategy.  And by doing so, we have forgotten to see how far we’ve come, what we’ve accomplished, and celebrate that.  Today, our goal is to get our focus back.  So what have we accomplished so far?  Well, we’ve stuck with this campaign for the past 7 months, we’ve played more soccer than we ever thought, we’ve coordinated and met with various community leaders, organizations, and politicians, we’ve gotten the community on board with our campaign, we’ve learned things like presenting in public and how formal meetings work, and we’ve gotten the donation for the fencing and the roof!  That is a HUGE accomplishment.  It’s time to recognize what we’ve done and to have a party already!  And then we can focus once again on what we still have to do (basically all we’re missing in the donation of a cement floor) but this time we’ll be energized enough to get there. 

So pray for us as we all learn about perspective today, to remember not only where we’ve been and to see how far we’ve come, but also to re-focus ourselves on where we want to go and how we’re going to get there.  Stay tuned!

The Ache of Sorrow

There is an ever-present ache in this sorrow… the hurt shocking and overwhelming, the silence profoundly numbing… Death once again has extended its grasp into my life, leaving a dark and depressing void in its wake. 

This past weekend, while many of you were camping, enjoying the presence of friends and family, maybe swimming in the cool waters of Michigan’s many lakes and roasting marshmallows over the crackling flames of a bonfire, I was working.  Yes, laugh at me, call me ridiculous, but here I was, in the office or with the kids, working.  To be honest, I forgot is was Labor Day until my computer calendar told me it was in fact a holiday weekend!  How easy it is to forget the North American timeline when you no longer live there!

Looking at that picturesque watercolor of weekend getaways and the last summer hoorahs, I get very nostalgic for my home life.  However, when I look closer, there is a dark brush stroke that bleeds across the painting, staining an otherwise beautiful scene.  Many this weekend mourned rather than rejoiced, cried instead of laughed, sat in silence rather than enjoyed the company of happiness.  And the stain has bled into my life as well—this past weekend, I lost a good friend of mine from high school, a death that continues to lock me in a stunned bewilderment. 

Though we have lost contact over the years, Scott Silvernail and I hung out almost daily throughout high school.  Chilling with friends, bonfires, service opportunities, lunches, going to prom, going to the movies—these were the things we shared.  His laugh was contagious, his passion for all things outdoors entertaining, and his love of life and people inspiring.  To hear of his sudden death continues to be outside of my realm of belief… could he really be gone?  Though there is no consolation in this, at the very least he died doing something he loved: leaving his tire marks on the sand dunes with friends by his side. 

In the hopes that it may help both me and you in this moment of sadness, I’d like to share with you an excerpt from Sarah Young’s Jesus Lives titled “Sorrow”:

“Trust in Me at all times.  I know the pain and the sorrow you are feeling, and I want you to pour out your heart in My Presence.  You need to release all those emotions in a safe place.  Demonstrate your trust in Me by opening up your heart to Me; as you do so, I promise to keep you safe.

     “Remember that I am a Man of sorrows, fully acquainted with grief.  Because of all I suffered I can empathize with you and share you pain.  As you pour out your emotions in My Presence, your heavy burden grows lighter.  You no longer carry your sorrows alone.  You release them to Me, and I then relieve and refresh your soul.  Moreover, as your heavy heart grows lighters, you are freed to learn more of Me: who I really am.

       “Come to Me and get to know Me in ever-increasing depth and breadth.  You will find that I am indeed a Refuge—a safe place flooded with eternal Love.  Linger a while in My Presence, letting My Love soak into your soul” (p. 32). 

Scott Silvernail, you will be missed.

Stay tuned…

A Daunting Path

As I look ahead at the daunting day before me, at the daunting week that lies before my very feet, I feel my steps waver, my mind pause, my spirits drop.  I don’t want to go there.  Can’t I just skip ahead?

Rachel, Guiss and I at the Nicaragua/Costa Rica border

Today marks a big work day for the Bola Bola project with meetings and playing soccer and strategizing.  But more than that, today we are having a good-bye party on behalf of Casa Adobe for Guiss.  She leaves Saturday.  This Saturday.  Wow.  It’s not like I’m losing a friend forever or anything but it will definitely be hard not to see her every day.  You can’t be very good roommates if you don’t live together anymore…

So, yes, I would love to jump ahead and not live through this week.  But I know I can’t.  And I know it wouldn’t be wise of me even if I could. 

I read this morning a prayer from one of Rachel’s devotionals and it really resonated with me, so I thought I’d share it.  It’s from the Diary of Daily Prayer (Second Edition) by J. Barrie Shepherd:

Journey

“Another day begins, Lord,

Another journey—dawn to dusk—

In the voyage of discovery we call “life.”

As I set out, I pause to ask your blessing,

Your guidance along the way,

Your welcome when I reach my destination.

Grant me this day

The smile of a song upon my lips,

The lilt of lively companionship along the road,

The wisdom to see the way ahead and hold to it,

The strength and courage to overcome all obstacles,

And the openness to share these gifts

With all whose way is tangled and obscure.

Do not permit me, Father,

To wander from the route,

Mazing myself in the circling paths of selfishness,

Straying with pride

That always seems to dog my footsteps.

But also, Lord, do not allow me

To travel with such intense concentration on the goal

That I cannot take the time

To enjoy the wonders along the way,

The tiny, everyday marvels that call on me

To stop a while, and celebrate,

And praise you for the journey

As well as for the destination.

And when I reach the journey’s end,

Grant me safe lodging,

Loved ones to greet me,

And a place to rest and be with you again” (p. 15).

Please keep all of us in your prayers as we go through these next difficult days and help us to not get so consumed by the destination and remember to enjoy the small gifts along the way.  Stay tuned!

Not My Story

Sometimes, I just get sick of talking about myself and what I do… I live with me enough already :)  Also, lately I have been barraged with stories of friends, family, and others who have died, often unexpectedly.  But I don’t feel like talking about death.  I don’t feel like discussing a world without certain people in it.  I don’t want to go there.  So today, I’m avoiding all that.  Today, I’m going to tell a story.

Stories have the wonderful ability to bring people together, to share in our joys, our misfortunes, our loves, and our despairs.  Stories reveal truths not only about us but about the world around us.  Mysteries are revealed, created, strengthened.  Characters are designed, developed, and loved.  Humor infects us.  Joy grabs us.  Pain makes us gasp.  Sorrow makes us cry.  A story tells it all, shares it all, believes it all.  With stories, anything is possible.

So, here is a small story I have written.  I won’t divulge my inspiration, for I myself am unaware of it.  Please, dive into the words; let the images sink into your minds, the emotions seep into your hearts.  And remember, stories are for sharing.

…..

The wind brushes against my face as I gaze stoically at the beautiful sight before me.  Mountains stand tall with peaks caressing the clouds above them, tips glistening with fresh snow.  A quaint town sits at the base of those stony walls, the sun glistening off the tin roofs and making the rainbow of colored facades that much brighter.  Green foothills envelop the small town and make their way to my house here in the distance.  The world today is so beautiful…but it fails to tug at my heart.  My mind is elsewhere, caught up in yesterday.  Why? I cry to myself.  Why to him and why now?  I suddenly look around, aware that I yelled that last part out loud.  Ashamed I look down and my strong stoic face crumbles, tears rush down my cheeks.  I feel so alone.

John, my sweet John, how could God take you from me now?  With two little ones and one on the way, why did He have to take you?  They need you as a father.  I need you. 

Dark thoughts fill my mind, swirling about, its venomous poison seeping into my heart.  I cannot love again, I tell myself.  I will not love again.  To love is to lose.  Worse, to love is to hurt.

My whole body aches, trembling from his absence.  I ache, painfully and physically, for his touch, his arms around me, his warm presence at my side.  I yearn for his smile, his wry chuckle, his hearty laughter.  I long for his stubbornness, his general lack of grooming, his obnoxious intelligence—things I never thought I’d miss. 

Part of me hears his voice in the other room, leading the others in a debate on politics or laughing boisterously at a well-timed joke.  Any second he’s going to come up behind me, hug me, and tell me everything is going to be all right. Any second now… Any second…

Time slows.  Minutes never pass.  Seconds drag on.  The world moves in slow motion, as if the wheels of the world are caught up in thick caramel, though this caramel lacks any of its sugary sweetness…  And still he doesn’t come. His voice never whispers.  His arms never warm mine. His presence is nothing but a wishful phantom.

My body heaves, unable to keep the sobs inside.  Unable to hide my hurt.  Unable to stop.

My youngest hears my sobs and rushes to my side, holding my hand in his, whispering kind words of love.  He leads me inside where my family waits for me.  They embrace me in their beautiful little arms, their warm and wonderfully alive little arms.  And I realize something.  They need me too.

…..

A short story, incomplete, fractured, simple.  Death is none of this.  Death is all of this.  I hope that what I failed to capture here in the words still came through in the story underneath.  The words between the words. Or rather, the emotion and story between the words. 

I hope you took away something to chew on, to ponder, to examine, to wonder (a hope that any storyteller wishes on her audience).  Stay tuned until next time!  

Thoughts From a Bus Passenger

I’m telling you, it’s going to be weird when I actually have to fly to get where I’m going.  Going on a big trip to Honduras via bus just didn’t hold the thrill that it used to, back when I was wet behind the ears about land travel through Central America.  Now, instead of looking forward to seeing new things at the border, I look forward to eating food at my favorite food stands, especially the handmade tortillas and the freshly squeezed fruit juices, and watching all the foreigners pay way too much to use a bathroom :)

Leading a focus group

Last week I had the privilege to travel to Honduras to participate in a CRWM Latin American conference centered on youth and violence.  In total, there were 86 participants from (I think) 11 different countries—a huge and diverse group indeed!  Throughout the many sessions in the conference, we had the opportunity to worship God in three different languages (Spanish, Creole and English) as well as learn about a youth program called IMPACT (which began in Romania) and how it has spread to many countries around the world.  Rachel and I also had the brief opportunity to share what we are doing here in Costa Rica and how our model and approach is different and unique.  Initially we were going to have an hour to present but when our turn came, we were only given 10 minutes!!  Ok, so that was hard to say the least, but I think we managed and hopefully people were able to take away something from what we shared.  While learning about different youth programs throughout the world was interesting, my favorite part of the conference was meeting new and old friends from many different countries.  Consequently, I’ve been offered several times to visit friends in places like the Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Romania, and Guatemala just to name a few (and I may take them all up on the offer someday!). 

Having fun with new and old friends :)

After attending this conference, what’s most been on my mind is the idea of “missions”.  I think that over the years, this word has become so warped and changed from what it originally meant that it no longer resembles its former self.  What in the world does “mission” even mean anymore?  Thoughts jump into my mind: knocking on doors, passing out Bibles, shaking hands and preaching on sidewalks.  But is it bigger than that?  I believe it is.  Having teen bible studies is as much a mission as having a soup kitchen for the needy, or a human rights campaign on sex trafficking, or hosting awareness group to promote breast feeding—though they might not work directly under or for a church, they are doing God’s work, albeit a bit more covertly than some other missions.  While in Honduras, I got the chance to talk with Dana Bates (who has his PhD from the Oxford Centre for Mission Studies) and how he came up with the idea for the IMPACT clubs in Romania.  Ok, so this guy is kind of a big shot and he was personally chit-chatting with little ol’ me.  Needless to say, I felt pretty good :)  Anyway, he said something that really meshed with what I have already been pondering: people try too hard to separate mission work and community development; in reality, they are two sides to the same coin and cannot (and should not) be separated.  When we work together for the betterment of our communities, for the betterment of others, we are living out God’s kingdom here on earth.  And that’s how it should be.  

But who is qualified to do missions, we might ask?  Bible thumpers?  English teachers?  Community workers?  Pastors?  High school students?  Me?  To put it simply: yes.  We are all qualified, but even more than that we are all called, to mission work.  In our homes.  In our communities.  In our schools.  In our government.  In our nation.  In our world.  Not just the missionaries that are commissioned by the churches.  Not just the sociologists or anthropologists with their fancy degrees.  Not just the theology experts or Bible teachers or pastors.  All of us.

So I say: so what if the word “mission” has changed?!  In my opinion, it has become more holistic over the years to recognize that every act we do to advance God’s kingdom is an act of service, an act of mission work.  So let’s not limit ourselves and “let the experts handle it.”  Because, guess what folks, we are all called to be the hands and feet of God, the loving neighbors, the humble servants.  Let us all pray that we never forget this challenge every morning we wake up and begin our day.  Let us not forget who we are and what we are called to do as children of God.

Stay tuned until next time!