Sand and Snow

Here I sit, my feet buried in the sand, a strong breeze keeping the heat of the day away. On the horizon, just blue water to see for miles all around. And though right here in this moment I feel comfortable and at peace, I was anything but yesterday. You see, we had to cross those miles of water to get from the main island to this one. On a tiny boat. Filled with too many people. In the rain. With waves that I swear were trying to kill us.

We made it though. Somehow.

I can tell you all the thoughts that we're going through my mind on that trip, because there honestly weren't that many. Most of it, a continuous, mumbling and repeated prayer: "Lord, give me strength. Give me strength. Give us strength. Help us get through this." or "Jesus, calm the storm like you’ve done before. Command the waves to be still. They know your voice, Jesus. They know you. They'll listen. Just tell them to stop!"  The rest of my thoughts were funny little observations like: "If I die now, how would anybody know?" or "Wow I lost my stomach on that one!" or "Would they leave me if I went overboard?" or "Holy crap, I think we cut through that wave" or "I don't know how we haven't capsized yet!"

My time was made even worse because of several different things: it was raining cats and dogs so in Nica fashion we held a plastic tarp over our heads to cover us--the problem: I'm not quite sure if it was big enough and the only thing that kept it in place was due to its human anchors beneath a.k.a. us. And more specifically, me. I had the honor of gripping that tarp in a vice grip that made my hands cramp, my arms shake, and soaked my entire body (especially the exposed arms) in ocean spray and rain. On the bright side, I think everyone else who wasn't an anchor stayed fairly dry. Second problem of the trip: I got separated from my group since it was a mad dash to grab a seat and we were slow on the get-go. So, I had to suffer the voyage solo. Which maybe was a good thing given the embarrassing expression I'm sure was plastered on my face. The final problem: I truly am scared of small boats when there is an ever looming threat of drowning. A few summers back I had a close call that involved a paddle boat and so now my mind jumps from PEACE to TERROR in milliseconds when I'm in a similar situation. I don't let it keep me from going, no way. I just freak out a little bit (cough a lot) during the trip. No biggie. After this trip, everything else will seem like Disneyland.

So what did I learn? To boil it down: that God had me in the palm of his hand the whole time. He did indeed stop the rain. He did indeed give me the strength to hold onto that tarp, even when the winds threatened to rip it out of my weak grasp. He did indeed keep us from succumbing to the ginormous waves. Those sailors knew their boat, they knew the sea, they knew the waves. If I was driving, well, that would be a whole different story that I'm sure would end in either a tragedy or a miracle. In all, I learned that through my fear I can rely on God to carry me.  I can put all my faith in him to keep me safe. I know it sounds a bit melodramatic but I truly believe God guided our little boat that day. And I am so glad he did.

Now, I have the return trip to look forward to. I feel slightly more confident this time, kind of like the idiot who goes bungee jumping a second time.  A stupid confidence maybe. But I know that God will guide us. And I'm going to find a better seat this time around.

Next week, instead of warm sand that hugs my toes, it will be icy cold snow that envelops my well-guarded feet. And though I may not know the exact manner of adventure I will find between here and there, I know that I can go in the confidence in God that he will get me there! Somehow.

Stay tuned!

Thy Kingdom Come

This week, the United Nations finally found that the North Korean government has been violating the rights of its people and is calling for an inquiry into human rights abuses that have gone on under Kim Jong Un’s dictatorship.  This week, riots, peaceful marches and protesting have been carried out all over Mexico as thousands of people come together to seek justice for the unexplained disappearance of 43 students.  This week, yet more women have come forward claiming to have been raped many years ago by one of our nation’s role models: Bill Cosby.

And this is just one week out of 52 this year, a year where we’ve seen civil unrest and violence break out in the Ukraine, outbreaks of Ebola spread around the globe, the disappearance of Malaysian Airlines Flight 370 along with all her passengers as well as the shot-down of Flight 17 by Ukrainian missiles, escalated fighting in the Gaza strip between Israel and Palestine, rising tensions between the United States and Russia, 276 women and girls kidnapped and held hostage in Nigeria, the countless murders and destruction led by ISIS militants in order to dominate parts of the Middle East, Robin William’s shocking suicide, the migration of thousands of unaccompanied children from Central America inundating the U.S. border, and the large break out of riots in Ferguson in protest after the shooting of the young man, Michael Brown.

Wow.

Remembering all of this has shocked me into sitting in silence, taken aback at how violent a race we can be.  How can such blatant violence exist in society?  How can government -sanctioned torture 

and murder go unpunished?  How can the world turn a blind eye to the Truth?

Easy.

If my backyard is clean and pretty, why should I care what my neighbor’s backyard looks like as long as there’s a fence there blocking my view?  No harm, no foul.

I’m poor.  Why should I waste my resources and energy and money on others when I can barely support myself?  I need to focus on what’s important here.

No one will listen to me, of all people.  Let’s be honest, I’m a nobody.  I have no power, no fame, no means to do anything.  So why should I fight an uphill battle and waste everybody’s time not actually accomplishing anything?  It’s just not logical.

Ok, wait a second.  What will it cost me?  Will it be safe?  I don’t want to jeopardize my life here.  Going out to save someone from suffering and then suffering myself wouldn’t make much sense.  In fact, that’s like increasing the problem.

Hold up, we very well can’t go around forcing our beliefs on others or offend them with our beliefs or anything.  It’s not our place!  If we all want our freedom then we have to respect others in their freedoms.  As long as it doesn’t infringe on my rights.  Then I’m calling the police.

What violence?  We live in a democratic world, not the dark ages!  Hitler died ages ago.  That kind of stuff doesn’t happen anymore.  Besides in Africa or the Middle East, but that’s different.  Seriously, I don’t know where you get your facts from but you can’t listen to anything from the news or on the internet.  They’re all lies.

Well, we don’t live in a perfect world.  There will always be violence and suffering.  As long as it’s over there and distracted by its own success over there then I will be fine with my better than normal life over here.  Besides, why fight humanity, our very essence?  You can’t change who we are.

See?

Deep down, our tainted hearts and minds cloud the goodness and purity of our Creator-given souls.  

We can’t escape it.  Actually, we don’t want to.  It’s easier (and safer) to blow out the candle than to protect its fire.

Apathy is the death of life, not hate.  Ignorance is the death of humanity, not violence.  Arrogance is the death of goodness, not malice. 

We are our own worst enemies.  So in whom can we rely?

Lord, this world is just too heavy to bear anymore.  Why can we not look at our neighbor and see your face looking back at us?  Why does our sinful nature always have to clamp itself around our neck like a heavy chain, weighing us down so that goodness lies just out of our reach?  Why can’t we break free?

I know, Lord, you have set us free and one day we will be whole again.  I know.  And yet this wait is so painful, Father, so painful. 

And so I pray today, Father, for all of us.  I pray that our hearts of stone may be shattered by your light.  I pray that we your people may step forth, hand in hand, and boldly go out to recklessly love those we find along the way.  I pray that we may embrace both our friend and our enemy.  I pray that we speak loud and act even louder.  I pray that we will not be silent in the face of violence, that we will seek both justice and mercy.  Above all, I pray that we will give you all the glory and all the honor in our every waking moment.   

Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done.

And please may it come soon!

Amen.

Stay tuned!

Border Buddies but not Best Friends

Once again I found myself sitting in the semi-comfortable seat of a bus, patiently enduring the long hours of the ride ahead of me.  I have had more than my fair share of long bus rides in the recent past and yet here I was again.  But, it was for a good cause, I kept telling myself.  It had been almost a year since I had last stepped foot on Costa Rican soil.  I had no idea what to expect.  I was both excited for this trip and at the same time a little bit afraid—what if things were really different from what I remembered?  Could I lead this group of students confidently enough?  Well, yes.  To put it simply.

The week flew by and there was simply too much packed into the week for me to share every dirty detail.  So, consider this a short commercial of our trip, complete with highlights (and lowlights) and a bonus “But wait!  There’s more” section:

• We spent a luxurious 4 nights and 5 days in a b-e-a-utiful campus of Whitworth, located in the mountains near San Rafael and the Barva volcano.  Let me just say, it was chilly and gorgeous.  I actually wanted to drink hot tea and coffee and wear my scarves!  I snuggled in down and fleece blankets, enjoyed the fresh air and hikes in the woods, soaked in the vista of the shining stars above, reveled in the hot showers, and melted in the heat from the various bonfires we had.  Bliss, pure bliss.

• So, at some point or another, 6 out of 7 of my students were sick on this trip, some severely so.  It got so bad at one point I needed to take 3 of them in to see a doctor.  Good news: they’ll live.  Bad news: some may or may not have had a nasty bug known as Chikungunya (similar to Dengue).  More good news: I didn’t get sick J
• We went to a plant, waterfall, and animal reserve one morning.  It put all of the other zoos I’ve been to to shame.  Sorry guys, but La Paz Waterfall Gardens wins hands down.  So, if you find your way to Costa Rica be sure to visit this place!  We also had a chance to have a tour of a coffee cooperative and learn lots about coffee.  It’s a cooperative of over 2,500 coffee farmers and is big enough to sell their product to not only Costa Rican customers but also to big wigs like Starbucks and Caribou Coffee.  To sum it up: it was delicious.  Oh, and educational.
  
• We had s’mores one evening.  ‘nuff said.
• We learned more about the immigration situation in Costa Rica, both in the form of a documentary as well as a presentation given by a Costa Rican who works with immigrants and natives and their housing situation.  It was extremely enlightening for me—I had lived there and had always heard about how Nicaraguans flooded to Costa Rica during the harvest seasons of coffee and others crops but I never really knew more than that.  There is definitely this viewpoint that’s prevalent among Costa Ricans that the Nicaraguans are coming in and stealing their jobs and increasing the violence in the nation and stealing and destroying all their resources.  The statistics don’t support these myths, however, but I don’t think those beliefs are going to disappear overnight.  People have a way of editing the truth to suit their beliefs.  Actually, the whole situation between Nicaragua and Costa Rica reminds me a lot about the situation between the U.S. and Mexico.  Same stereotypes, same prejudices, same myths, same push factors, same third wheel that’s often forgotten about (cough cough Canada and Panama).  In both cases, we may share a border but obviously that doesn’t make us best friends.
• While I was there I also had a brief chance to visit some of my old friends, people who I miss dearly.  I truly appreciate the few hours I had with them but I crave so much more.  I will be going back next year to make it up to them and myself.  I will also buy more coffee and chocolate covered coffee beans—it’s a tradition I will not break J

But wait!  There’s more!  Did you know that medium roast coffee has more caffeine than an espresso?  Did you know that a toucan’s feet are actually soft and warm?  Did you know that butterflies like Enya music (ok don’t quote me on this one but they were definitely playing Enya in the butterfly garden)?  Did you know that tour guides, translators and drivers can get in free to almost every tourist location and restaurant in Costa Rica if they’re leading a group?  Did you know that pine trees and palm trees can in fact coexist in the same habitat?  Did you know that I can’t tell if I like Costa Rica or Nicaragua better, that both of them hold a special place in my heart?  Well, now you do!

That’s all for now.  Stay tuned!

Only in Nicaragua

So many times I am asked the question: “So what are the differences you see between here and where you’re from?”  Such a loaded question, one I’m sure I don’t have an adequate or well-researched answer for.  Nonetheless, I never want to disappoint my interrogator so I come up with something to avoid creating an awkward silence: “Well, the weather for one thing.”  “The people here seem to be more open, more hospitable.”  “Spanish, duh.”  “Time—everything takes longer here.”  And once I start thinking of things the easier it gets to come up with more and more examples.  Surprisingly, I notice more about the culture and life here than I think I do!  Please don’t quote me and please don’t consider my list extensive, but I thought I’d share with you some things that I’ve witnessed that you could say are “Only in Nicaragua.”

• 3-5 people on a motorcycle, or two people and a bicycle on a motorcycle, or two people and propane tanks or mattresses or piping or whatever—this is completely normal.  If you need to get somewhere with something, those two wheels are sufficient enough.  Every time I see this I am more and more impressed by the universal talent Nicaraguans seem to have in balancing things.
• Eating potatoes and rice in the same meal, sometimes even mixed together.  Here, they seem to be complimentary foods, not two starches of the same bland color and taste.
• It’s 90+ degrees outside and everyone’s wearing jeans.  It’s just what they do.
• Saying adios in greeting, even though technically it means goodbye.  Think of it as aloha.
• Showing up to an event 15-30 minutes late is definitely arriving on time.  Any earlier and you’d be rushing things.  Any later and you’re rude to the host.
• Fireworks at 4 in the morning—it’s Saint What’s-His-Name’s Day after all (sorry, I don’t want to sound rude to the Catholics out there and their traditions—there are just a TON of them here and I never remember who we’re celebrating).  And while we’re on the subject, random parades of school children and marching bands and religious icons that randomly block off streets at random times during the day.
• Wearing a hot pink patterned shirt, blue skinny jeans, and red high heels OR a teal blue hair tie with teal blue eye make-up with a teal tank top with teal shoes—clashing or being matchy-matchy don’t seem to be very strong concepts here.  You wear what you like.
• Running to catch the bus, which is often a really colorful school bus decorated with streamers and filled to the brim with way too many passengers.  Somehow, they will find a way to fit that one last person.
• Adding a healthy spoonful of sugar to your cup of milk (and by healthy I do not in fact mean healthy.  I mean huge.).  In fact, adding a whopping amount of sugar to any beverage: juice, coffee, tea, milk, etc.
• Have community guards who bike around all throughout the night and whistle at your door every hour to let you know they are doing the job you are paying them for.  It’s really loud.
• Greeting people with nicknames such as “fatty” (gordita) or “black skin” (negra) or “white skin” (chela) or “asian looking” (chino), etc.  These names are descriptive, not offensive.
• Street dogs by the dozens, most with ribs showing and many with some injury or other. Apparently they never received Bob Barker’s spay and neuter advice.
• Listening to two or more types of music at the same time—one from your phone, another from your TV, another from the radio… you get the idea.  Basically, loud music means you’re happy.
• Drinking juice, pop, or water out of a bag—a treat you can buy from street vendors.  Just pop in a straw or bite a hole in the corner and you’re good to go.
• Cars driving by loudly advertising things, from upcoming events to goods for sale to announcements of deaths.  Think of it as moving audible billboards.
• Cold showers because it’s too hot for anything else.
• Eating a ginormous bowl of HOT chicken soup for lunch, also known as the hottest part of the day.  No further comment.
• Uneven cobblestone streets, even more uneven sidewalks, and colorfully painted adobe houses that may or may not be in a constant state of crumbling.  If you have nothing else to say, the architecture here is beautiful.
• Etc., etc., etc.

Now of course it would be crazy of me to claim that you could only find these things in Nicaragua.  My point here is that they are so foreign to my culture back home and take me by surprise every time.  When I travel this is one of the joys I look forward to encountering: new (and sometimes crazy) ways of living. 

What are some of the crazy and cool things you’ve seen on your travels?

On a final note, I will not be able to write next week as I will be with the SPIN students on their semester trip to Costa Rica.  I’m going back!  Please be with us as we travel and learn and experience what Costa Rica has to offer. 

Also, it’s my birthday on Friday.  Boo-yah.

Stay tuned!

Dominoes

Dominoes.  For me, this week, it all came down to dominoes.  I happen to be a very perceptive person who is prone to scrutinizing things.  Better said, I am not very good at accepting things at face value.  This week, though, I seemed to be noticing more and more of the negative things around me: the way friendships were breaking, organizations were missing the point, people were failing, Christians were failing.  An all-around disappointment in life started to occupy my mind, first one thing, then another, then another.  Domino after domino fell and before I knew it I had entire path of fallen dominoes in my wake and I became stuck on this path of negativity.  And, worse yet, it was starting to manifest itself physically.  Usually I can hide it.  But not always.  I became grumpier, less animated, my conversations were forced at best.  And people were beginning to take notice.

How do I get my miserable self out of this entangled sticky web of negativity?

Well, not by myself, that’s for sure.

In those moments, I was too lost in my own vortex of sour thinking that I failed to realize the vast amount of Peace and Joy within my reach.  I was so blinded by my darkness that I failed to see the Light reaching out to me.  But then it all changed—I was lost and blind, but was rescued and given sight!  And it happened to come in the most normal of ways—a song.  I happened to be listening to Rend Collective Experiment’s version of “10,000 reasons” (listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPI_DIqICP0).  Let’s just say it was a healthy dose of spiritual reality and it brought me back to the reason I’m alive at all: my Creator made me, my Savior liberated me, my Spirit inspires me. 

Since that song, God has step by step guided me back into the joyful light of his presence, a place where I can rejoice and sing of the more than 10,000 reasons I am blessed today.  Here I’ll share with you a few of the things God placed into my life this week:

Proverbs 3:5-6:

“Do not depend on your own understanding.  Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take” (NLT). 

My devotions from yesterday:

“I, the Creator of the universe, am the most creative Being imaginable.  I will not leave you circling in deeply rutted paths.  Instead, I will lead you along fresh trails of adventure, revealing to you things you did not know.  Stay in communication with Me.  Follow My guiding Presence” (Sarah Young, Jesus Calling, p. 314). 

My Bible study on Gideon:

“Gideon could have avoided this domino effect… Continuing a vibrant fellowship with God would have kept him on course with divine purpose…Seeking God and His will must remain our constant desire and aspiration… When the dominoes of life cave in, our level of steadiness will be equal to our level of fellowship with the Father” (Priscilla Shirer, Gideon, pp. 144-145). 

Finally, from 2 Corinthians 4: 6-9:

“For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.  But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.  We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed” (NIV). 

I stand here (or rather sit here) amazed at how God speaks to me, lending his Divine voice to guide my wavering feet.  I may not always hear His voice (I may at times listen harder to the white noise of life that drowns out His voice) but I do know that he is always speaking to me: in nature, in people, in Scripture, in art, in life.  She who has an ear, let her hear His voice calling out to His beloved children.

Stay tuned!

Honesty as Policy

Photo: courtesy of Sarah Davies

Yesterday I read a Proverb that sort of hit me right in the face with its words.  In fact, I think I still have a blotchy red mark on my forehead as evidence of the forced interaction.  The reason it hurt so much is because, once again, it was talking directly to me, right now in this very moment.  Here it is:

Better is open rebuke

Than hidden love.

Wounds from a friend can be trusted,

But an enemy multiplies kisses.

Proverbs 27:5-6

After reading this, my mind jumps first to the people around me, trying to decipher who beside me is in fact an enemy multiplying kisses.  But I can deal with people like that—in fact, I enjoy trying to understand the people around me and figuring out what makes them tick, where their motivation comes from, why they want to be with me.  I’m used to guessing between friend and foe.  It’s a task that’s as natural to me as brushing my teeth or breathing—I do it unconsciously and before I know it, I have a profile of someone in my head labeling them as “friend”, “foe” or “unknown: requires more research”. 

So that’s not what hurt when I read this proverb.  What hurt was the thought: “What if I’m an enemy?”

I think back to all the times where I held my tongue, where I guarded my silence, where I held back from telling the truth.  My reason?  I didn’t want to hurt anyone.  I didn’t want to rock the boat and create waves.  I didn’t want to tread on anyone’s toes.  I didn’t want to wound my friends and become their enemy. 

But what if, because I held back, I actually hurt them more than if I had told the truth?  What if my gentle rebuke was more needed than my fake kisses?  What if they needed to hear the truth and I had denied them that?

It’s a weird thought, thinking that I have failed my friends by keeping quiet or by saying what they wanted to hear.  It’s weird that my silence effectively buried my love for them, hidden behind a façade of empty kindness. 

Apparently, to love does not equate painlessness.  Love hurts. 

And, if the love is true, love hurts both the giver and the receiver.  Think about it: in the moment where a friend gently rebukes her friend, both are pained by the experience.  The giver of the rebuke has exposed herself and has put herself in the vulnerable position that’s open for rejection.  The receiver of the rebuke has more obviously been hurt as the words of truth delve straight into her heart and mind, a sword of truth that pierces through the strongest armor. 

Knowing this, it’s no wonder we hold our tongues and say nothing!  It’s no wonder we hide our love and multiply our kisses.  We do it out of self-preservation and fear of rejection, even if the life we begin to live is full of lies. 

But words of honesty shouldn’t hurt in a way that is harmful or destructive.  I’m reminded of Eustace in C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series.  Eustace had built up such a thick skin around himself (manifested quite literally in the form of scaly dragon skin), a façade of superiority and selfishness that masked his true inner self.  Only Aslan, with his claws of Truth, could shed him of the skin.  “The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt.  The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off “ (The Voyage of the Dawn Treader).  Shedding lies and accepting Truth hurts, but it’s what we need. 

So, be a truth-bearer today and be honest to your friends and the people around you.  Tell them how much they mean to you; warn them against temptation; admit how they have hurt you; encourage them to be better; pray with and for them.  Love them by saying the Truth.

And ask them to be the same honest friend to you. 

Stay tuned!

More passages about Truth-speaking and gentle rebuking: Matthew 18:15-17, John 8:32, 2 Timothy 3:16-17, Ephesian 4:15-16 and 25, Galatians 6:1, 1 John 3:18, Hebrews 4:12, Revelation 3:19.

The Power of Eye Contact

Let’s admit it, I stick out.  I may know my way around the city; I may speak Spanish with ease and little accent; I may know how to order my favorite food; I may know how to drink juice out of a bag; I may cross the street without getting run over by a bus, bike, or car; I may live here and have made friends with the neighbors.  BUT I still stick out.  Why?

I walk too fast.  I dress differently.  I smell of sunscreen.  I act more reserved and controlled.  Most of all, I have bright blue eyes.

And, though I love my blue eyes, those little twinkling gifts can actually turn out to be little curses sometimes.  Why?  Because it makes me stand out even more than I want to.  Guys on the street flirt and cat-call all the more at me if they catch the blue glint of my eyes.  Children frequently ask me if I would trade my eyes for theirs.  Every time I wear contacts instead of my glasses women are so surprised by the intensity of the blueness of my eyes and it end up being a frequent conversation topic.  There was even a little girl who was afraid of me for a while because of my blue eyes.  Here, in a land of dark skin, dark hair, and dark eyes my blue orbs are foreign invaders.  They don’t belong. 

But you know what?  That’s ok.

Why?  Because I’ve learned to use my eyes instead of being ashamed of them.  With a short nod of my head, I can catch a taxi, tricycle, mototaxi, or bus.  With quick eye contact I acknowledge the presence of my neighbors, those I pass on the street, my friends.  With a smile of my eyes, I can get the cashier, the market vendor, a child to return my smile.  My eyes, combined with my accent, can even give me some power in a bartering situation (I mean, who wouldn’t want to give me a lower price?!)

Truly, eye contact can be very powerful.

Think of it in the reverse: if I never looked at anyone, what would that be like?  Well, that Kelsey would walk down the street, looking at nothing but her toes hitting the uneven and cracked pavement.  She would be oblivious to the world around her, the many families and friends sitting on their doorsteps, chit-chatting away.  She would miss the opportunity to amicably say “adios” to her neighbors and those she passed on the street.  She would stick out as an unfriendly gringa who didn’t have the time or care to even make eye contact with other human beings.  By withholding her gaze of others around her, she would be quietly yelling to everyone that they are not worth her time or acknowledgement.  That Kelsey would be “fría” or “cold”.  In the end, she would be alone in her own self-inflicted bubble of isolation.

Needless to say, I do not want to be that Kelsey.

So, I will shamelessly walk this Nicaraguan city with my blue eyes wide open.  I will unabashedly make eye contact with friends and strangers alike.  I will look and smile and see and be a part of this world around me.  I will get more whistles, more looks, more comments BUT I will also look back, make comments and acknowledge the life, the people, that God has placed in my life today.

Stay tuned!