...Is over at midnight tonight. This year has brought a lot of changes and a lot of good things. I'm living some dreams I've had for much of my life, as I find myself in Latin America, fluent in Spanish, and helping raise abandoned/neglected children in a family-style setting.
Along with those dreams fulfilled have come some hardships, especially recently as I faced a profound feeling of loneliness. Earlier in the year, the difficulties came more from doubting my calling to this dream of raising children at risk, of struggling through sacrifice of self for that calling, of learning that even I have "authority issues", and beginning to see some of the ugliness that lies hidden within that God wants to clean up in his refining fire.
It also means I'm completing two years as a blogger here at blogspot. And, as my brother just reminded me in an email, we're all completing ten years of surviving Y2K. There goes the decade...
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
December
I have a LOT to update, but I've been putting it off!
In brief (and hopefully I'll post some more detailed blogs): December 9-16 I went to the coast on a much-needed and wonderful vacation with three friends. We flew into Santa Marta, and stayed in the nearby village of Taganga, where two of our group did a scuba diving licensing course. From there, we went for one night to a national park called Parque Tayrona. It was beautiful and I wish we could've stayed longer. I definitely hope to go back sometime. Then we went back to Santa Marta, got on a bus for five hours (I'm really not patient with bus travel, and am VERY thankful for planes, and that we were able to fly to and from Bogota) to the beautiful city of Cartagena. We stayed there two nights, saw the old city, swam in the ocean a bit, and enjoyed our time together.
Those friends are now in their own countries again. Ingie left on the 19th for Canada, and Luke and Liz left the 20th for England. I miss them badly, and in some ways their departure marks the end of one phase and the beginning of another. Right now, all the staff we have are long-term, and most of the friends I've made over the last year aren't here anymore.
I think I've written before about how every few months since I've been here I need to have a good cry. Well this past week, it seems I was overdue. 1. The departure of three good friends, after a really good week together, 2. The frustration of not having close friendships, especially outside of coworkers, and 3. Being away from family this time of year, proved to be a rough combination. Anyways, I am feeling better, but missing friends and hoping to make more here. I finally understand how difficult it is moving to a new city (and not being in university) and trying to find community. Thankfully with the ministry, I'm automatically plugged in to something, but it's different in a lot of ways.
Last night, Christmas Eve, everyone here at the farm went down to Kiwi House to hang out together. We ate around 9 pm, then the kids decorated gingerbread houses (a very American thing... Thanks to Jess's efforts in the kitchen all day). Little J., who refused to sleep in the afternoon, fell asleep while eating at about 10. I put him in a bed with the promise to wake him up to open presents, but when 11 o'clock rolled around and I got him, he couldn't handle it so we just had Christmas this morning instead.
Here in Colombia, the tradition is to open presents at midnight, but with the kids (and maybe moreso with the adults) we decided not to wait quite so late. Anyways, thanks to a lot of donations and family who had sent presents, there was a mountain of gifts under the tree. We didn't hand them out one by one and wait to see what everyone got, so the Great Unwrapping went pretty quickly... although I missed the way we always did it growing up. Plus, I just like the morning excitement more (and the fact that it means everyone has to go to bed early). Anyways, it was great. We finished off eating pumpkin and pecan pie (that was my culinary contribution), then headed up to our house to sleep.
Little J. slept until about 8:00 this morning, which was in itself a gift! Now I'm waiting to talk with my family. I don't know what we'll end up doing today... resting, I hope, and maybe cleaning up a bit!
Now that we're on vacation from our daily programs, one of my goals is submitting my application for my DTS (school/training with YWAM). I'm currently a bit sad about leaving for 6 months to do that, even though I know it'll be a very special time for me and an important time for spiritual growth. I've been working on the application that the base in Santiago, Chile sent me. I emailed the leaders in Pichilemu, Chile, and it turns out that they're in Bogota right now. Hopefully we'll get together so I can see what they're like and they can give me the application. I also hope to get together with a couple of acquaintances/friends.
Two days ago, I enrolled J. in a pre-school for next year! It seems like a really great program! He'll start Jan. 18th. That's a huge answer to prayer for me.
Merry Christmas, everyone.
In brief (and hopefully I'll post some more detailed blogs): December 9-16 I went to the coast on a much-needed and wonderful vacation with three friends. We flew into Santa Marta, and stayed in the nearby village of Taganga, where two of our group did a scuba diving licensing course. From there, we went for one night to a national park called Parque Tayrona. It was beautiful and I wish we could've stayed longer. I definitely hope to go back sometime. Then we went back to Santa Marta, got on a bus for five hours (I'm really not patient with bus travel, and am VERY thankful for planes, and that we were able to fly to and from Bogota) to the beautiful city of Cartagena. We stayed there two nights, saw the old city, swam in the ocean a bit, and enjoyed our time together.
Those friends are now in their own countries again. Ingie left on the 19th for Canada, and Luke and Liz left the 20th for England. I miss them badly, and in some ways their departure marks the end of one phase and the beginning of another. Right now, all the staff we have are long-term, and most of the friends I've made over the last year aren't here anymore.
I think I've written before about how every few months since I've been here I need to have a good cry. Well this past week, it seems I was overdue. 1. The departure of three good friends, after a really good week together, 2. The frustration of not having close friendships, especially outside of coworkers, and 3. Being away from family this time of year, proved to be a rough combination. Anyways, I am feeling better, but missing friends and hoping to make more here. I finally understand how difficult it is moving to a new city (and not being in university) and trying to find community. Thankfully with the ministry, I'm automatically plugged in to something, but it's different in a lot of ways.
Last night, Christmas Eve, everyone here at the farm went down to Kiwi House to hang out together. We ate around 9 pm, then the kids decorated gingerbread houses (a very American thing... Thanks to Jess's efforts in the kitchen all day). Little J., who refused to sleep in the afternoon, fell asleep while eating at about 10. I put him in a bed with the promise to wake him up to open presents, but when 11 o'clock rolled around and I got him, he couldn't handle it so we just had Christmas this morning instead.
Here in Colombia, the tradition is to open presents at midnight, but with the kids (and maybe moreso with the adults) we decided not to wait quite so late. Anyways, thanks to a lot of donations and family who had sent presents, there was a mountain of gifts under the tree. We didn't hand them out one by one and wait to see what everyone got, so the Great Unwrapping went pretty quickly... although I missed the way we always did it growing up. Plus, I just like the morning excitement more (and the fact that it means everyone has to go to bed early). Anyways, it was great. We finished off eating pumpkin and pecan pie (that was my culinary contribution), then headed up to our house to sleep.
Little J. slept until about 8:00 this morning, which was in itself a gift! Now I'm waiting to talk with my family. I don't know what we'll end up doing today... resting, I hope, and maybe cleaning up a bit!
Now that we're on vacation from our daily programs, one of my goals is submitting my application for my DTS (school/training with YWAM). I'm currently a bit sad about leaving for 6 months to do that, even though I know it'll be a very special time for me and an important time for spiritual growth. I've been working on the application that the base in Santiago, Chile sent me. I emailed the leaders in Pichilemu, Chile, and it turns out that they're in Bogota right now. Hopefully we'll get together so I can see what they're like and they can give me the application. I also hope to get together with a couple of acquaintances/friends.
Two days ago, I enrolled J. in a pre-school for next year! It seems like a really great program! He'll start Jan. 18th. That's a huge answer to prayer for me.
Merry Christmas, everyone.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Goodbye, November
This is just a quick post to say that I love Thanksgiving. I'm very grateful that they gave us the day off in the ministry (as it's not a holiday here) and that we had an extremely successful Thanksgiving feast and get together. About 50 people were here and we ate great food -- the turkey was delicious and worth every peso that we had to pay for it; the stuffing, mashed potatoes, and gravy rocked my world; there were pies galore; the mora (like a blackberry, sort of) sauce did a decent job replacing cranberries; and the only failure was the "sweet potato" (batata) that we tried to make.
So, food-wise we did great. Fellowship: check. And after the meal those of us who wanted to went down the zip line. I went once alone, and then once with little J., who loved it! If we hadn't had big plans that day, I would've been really sad, I think. It also really helped that I got to talk to all the family who was at my parents' house in the morning.
Tonight we ate turkey soup and decorated the Christmas tree... it's offcially the holiday season. Last night we went around the city to see the lights (most public parks are decorated to the hilt and Bogota's residents go there to hang out this time of year). I've bought stockings for J. and myself... fun times!!!
So, food-wise we did great. Fellowship: check. And after the meal those of us who wanted to went down the zip line. I went once alone, and then once with little J., who loved it! If we hadn't had big plans that day, I would've been really sad, I think. It also really helped that I got to talk to all the family who was at my parents' house in the morning.
Tonight we ate turkey soup and decorated the Christmas tree... it's offcially the holiday season. Last night we went around the city to see the lights (most public parks are decorated to the hilt and Bogota's residents go there to hang out this time of year). I've bought stockings for J. and myself... fun times!!!
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sick Day: recurring themes
Today is the Sunday before Thanksgiving. I am at home with a cold, taking advantage of my only opportunity to really rest until next weekend (and even then, who knows what will come up?) while the rest of the farm is in the city for church. I have some sermons on my iTunes that I haven’t listened to yet, so I pick one.
Greg, my pastor back home, reminds me first of all about God’s expression toward me: a continual smile. That’s something that is and has been very difficult for me to accept, because I have always imagined him regarding me without expression, waiting to see what I’ll DO and if it will be pleasing or displeasing. Having a foster son reminds me of that false belief a lot. How often do I treat little J. that way? How often does he feel that he has to perform, to be worthy, to do well, for me to smile and show him my love? When I discipline him, does he feel my love? Or only my disappointment?
But, as Greg says in this sermon I’m listening to, that is not something I can resolve to change on my own. Love and service toward others can only be an outpouring of a realization of God’s love toward me. Not until I understand that I am the guy beaten, stripped, and left for dead on the side of the road, on whom the Samaritan has mercy… not until I know that I am utterly dependent on Him will I be able to love freely and give generously and serve without reservation.
Of course, is that realistic? I don’t know… it’s problem we all have. Ever since the first people didn’t trust that God was good, that he loved them, we’ve all been born that way. And it affects us in every aspect of our lives: between God and us, with ourselves, between others and ourselves, between ourselves and the natural world. We need a radical, complete, holistic change.
I remember one line from Mel Gibson’s film, ‘The Passion of the Christ’. Jesus is staggering along the dusty road, carrying the heavy beam of the cross on which he will die. He stumbles and falls, covered in sweat, blood, dirt. His mother, Mary, is at the side of the road, in anguish. Her son, God’s son, looks at her and says, “See, Mother, I am making all things new.”
It gave me goose bumps. That’s what I want, that’s what the world needs… to be made new, in every way. And now, in Christ, we can once again walk with God in the cool of the evening, we can see him face to face without fear, without hiding our nakedness with fig leaves. We can know his love, through the lavish love of Christ. But I cannot make myself know it or understand it. I can hear the theology, but I have to wait for the Spirit to do the work of sinking it in deep.
And then, through faith and hope in the Spirit’s work, the world will change. I, too, can be a part of making all things new. When I overflow with that love, when I feel His smile, His pleasure on me as I am and do exactly and only what He created me to be (when I live ontologically), I will serve and love with reckless abandon!
Right now there are two Jamaican ladies here at Formando Vidas. Donna will be staying long term. Marion is a friend of hers and YWAM leader in Montego Bay who came to visit Colombia and help get Donna settled in. Marion is full of life, love, energy, excitement. She doesn’t speak much Spanish but said she wished she had some tracts or something in Spanish to hand out. Growing up in the South, I’ve felt and seen and participated in the misuse of things like tracts, so I don’t like the idea of “hit and run” evangelism (street evangelism, tracts, door-to-door evangelism… things that don’t have follow up from me/the group involved, things that are not relational). Marion said that she doesn’t care and she just says a prayer and uses whatever she has, that God can and will use whatever we have for His glory and purposes.
Moving to Bogotá from the Bible Belt, I’m realizing how many people do not know Jesus. Every day, on every street, every bus, in every store, I see people and wonder if they know that there is new life. If they have heard the good news. If they have hope and know that there are plans and a purpose for them; that they matter. I am seeing for the first time, that “the harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.” Of course we need more ‘workers’, but what if the ones we have weren’t so scared of people’s reactions? What if we understood God’s love more? Enough to serve lavishly? Enough to lay down our lives, our schedules, our plans, to take time to be with someone? Enough to get over our cultural hang-ups, to pray and hand out a tract? Or to tell the street person that Jesus loves her when I give a cup of coffee?
Not because I have to, or because I ought to. Rather, because I have been loved so much that I can see I am incapable of love. But that I know One who IS love, who is in me and working through me, to fill the earth with that love and make it new again.
Greg, my pastor back home, reminds me first of all about God’s expression toward me: a continual smile. That’s something that is and has been very difficult for me to accept, because I have always imagined him regarding me without expression, waiting to see what I’ll DO and if it will be pleasing or displeasing. Having a foster son reminds me of that false belief a lot. How often do I treat little J. that way? How often does he feel that he has to perform, to be worthy, to do well, for me to smile and show him my love? When I discipline him, does he feel my love? Or only my disappointment?
But, as Greg says in this sermon I’m listening to, that is not something I can resolve to change on my own. Love and service toward others can only be an outpouring of a realization of God’s love toward me. Not until I understand that I am the guy beaten, stripped, and left for dead on the side of the road, on whom the Samaritan has mercy… not until I know that I am utterly dependent on Him will I be able to love freely and give generously and serve without reservation.
Of course, is that realistic? I don’t know… it’s problem we all have. Ever since the first people didn’t trust that God was good, that he loved them, we’ve all been born that way. And it affects us in every aspect of our lives: between God and us, with ourselves, between others and ourselves, between ourselves and the natural world. We need a radical, complete, holistic change.
I remember one line from Mel Gibson’s film, ‘The Passion of the Christ’. Jesus is staggering along the dusty road, carrying the heavy beam of the cross on which he will die. He stumbles and falls, covered in sweat, blood, dirt. His mother, Mary, is at the side of the road, in anguish. Her son, God’s son, looks at her and says, “See, Mother, I am making all things new.”
It gave me goose bumps. That’s what I want, that’s what the world needs… to be made new, in every way. And now, in Christ, we can once again walk with God in the cool of the evening, we can see him face to face without fear, without hiding our nakedness with fig leaves. We can know his love, through the lavish love of Christ. But I cannot make myself know it or understand it. I can hear the theology, but I have to wait for the Spirit to do the work of sinking it in deep.
And then, through faith and hope in the Spirit’s work, the world will change. I, too, can be a part of making all things new. When I overflow with that love, when I feel His smile, His pleasure on me as I am and do exactly and only what He created me to be (when I live ontologically), I will serve and love with reckless abandon!
Right now there are two Jamaican ladies here at Formando Vidas. Donna will be staying long term. Marion is a friend of hers and YWAM leader in Montego Bay who came to visit Colombia and help get Donna settled in. Marion is full of life, love, energy, excitement. She doesn’t speak much Spanish but said she wished she had some tracts or something in Spanish to hand out. Growing up in the South, I’ve felt and seen and participated in the misuse of things like tracts, so I don’t like the idea of “hit and run” evangelism (street evangelism, tracts, door-to-door evangelism… things that don’t have follow up from me/the group involved, things that are not relational). Marion said that she doesn’t care and she just says a prayer and uses whatever she has, that God can and will use whatever we have for His glory and purposes.
Moving to Bogotá from the Bible Belt, I’m realizing how many people do not know Jesus. Every day, on every street, every bus, in every store, I see people and wonder if they know that there is new life. If they have heard the good news. If they have hope and know that there are plans and a purpose for them; that they matter. I am seeing for the first time, that “the harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.” Of course we need more ‘workers’, but what if the ones we have weren’t so scared of people’s reactions? What if we understood God’s love more? Enough to serve lavishly? Enough to lay down our lives, our schedules, our plans, to take time to be with someone? Enough to get over our cultural hang-ups, to pray and hand out a tract? Or to tell the street person that Jesus loves her when I give a cup of coffee?
Not because I have to, or because I ought to. Rather, because I have been loved so much that I can see I am incapable of love. But that I know One who IS love, who is in me and working through me, to fill the earth with that love and make it new again.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
smiles and tear gas
Today we got off the Transmilenio (city-wide bus system like a metro or subway, but at street-level) at Calle 72 and started walking up toward the colectivo (little bus to go out of the city to the farm) as always. J was asleep in my arms, after insisting that he wasn't tired and didn't want to sleep. I heard a noise like a gun shot further up, but wasn't sure what it was. There were people standing around in the medians and I realized that there were a lot of people in the road and sidewalks a few blocks up, right about where the colective leaves from. I heard some more shot sounds, but it was surprisingly hushed. Crossing the street, I noticed that the music store had two of its three large doors closed off, as though it were closed. A moment later, I felt a strange burning in my throat, which moved into my nose and even to my eyes. Tear gas. Turning back, I went into a grocery store. We needed bread anyways.
The explosions kept going off. There's a university on the 72, toward where we were heading. Asking the check-out ladies, they said that there was, as I had guessed, a demonstration having to do with the university students.
We made our purchase and I put more minutes on my phone, then left to figure out how to get home, since our normal route was out of question. The colectivos couldn't even get through there. By this point, J had woken up. I explained to him that there was a gas outside that could hurt our noses and throats and eyes, so we needed to cover up with my scarf, and we headed out, taking a taxi to the 85 to wait for the bus there. He said the police were "fea" (ugly, bad) and I said that the gas they were shooting was feo, but also whatever the students were doing was feo and a bad situation in general. Later he asked me if the police were good or bad. "I don't know," I told him. "Sometimes they do good things, and sometimes not."
Yesterday the kids went to see a play. I stayed behind to make lunch. A frequent visitor (street person) came by to pick up a Bible that one of my co-volunteers had sent for him. He ended up talking to me for about an hour and helping me clean out the cupboards that mice had gotten into. A few times I wondered if I should make him leave or if I could trust him or I just wanted to be alone again, but it turned out to be a really cool visit.
It looks like I'm going to do my YWAM school in March. Well, I haven't applied yet or anything, but that's what I'm feeling. I'm sad about it today. Other days I'm really excited! It's going to be hard to leave, even though I plan to come back after the 6-month school and outreach.
The explosions kept going off. There's a university on the 72, toward where we were heading. Asking the check-out ladies, they said that there was, as I had guessed, a demonstration having to do with the university students.
We made our purchase and I put more minutes on my phone, then left to figure out how to get home, since our normal route was out of question. The colectivos couldn't even get through there. By this point, J had woken up. I explained to him that there was a gas outside that could hurt our noses and throats and eyes, so we needed to cover up with my scarf, and we headed out, taking a taxi to the 85 to wait for the bus there. He said the police were "fea" (ugly, bad) and I said that the gas they were shooting was feo, but also whatever the students were doing was feo and a bad situation in general. Later he asked me if the police were good or bad. "I don't know," I told him. "Sometimes they do good things, and sometimes not."
Yesterday the kids went to see a play. I stayed behind to make lunch. A frequent visitor (street person) came by to pick up a Bible that one of my co-volunteers had sent for him. He ended up talking to me for about an hour and helping me clean out the cupboards that mice had gotten into. A few times I wondered if I should make him leave or if I could trust him or I just wanted to be alone again, but it turned out to be a really cool visit.
It looks like I'm going to do my YWAM school in March. Well, I haven't applied yet or anything, but that's what I'm feeling. I'm sad about it today. Other days I'm really excited! It's going to be hard to leave, even though I plan to come back after the 6-month school and outreach.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
process
My shoulders are sore and my legs are tired. Today we had a work day at the farm, so I spent a few hours dragging limbs to a pile for burning and then carrying posts on our shoulders over hills to make piles of 50 for fence posts so the cows can start eating the grass up the mountain.
It was nice work. Of course it feels good to be out in the fresh air, and to be getting exercise, but also to see progress, to see something happen, makes it so satisfying. My work here is usually very unlike that. I’m working with people, with children, and hoping to see long-term change. A friend called it a “slow redemption process” that’s being worked out. In Little J., in all the kids, in me, in all of us.
We’re all being pruned, cut back, shifted about, refuse thrown in a pile for disposal, making room for better things to grow and making us more useful and use-able. ‘As iron sharpens iron, so one friend sharpens another.’ Community is so important to our growth processes. ‘Abide in Christ’ and the Father will take care of the changing process, the Father is the gardener who does the pruning and watering and fruit-producing.
Another thing that I’ve been thinking about this week is being child-like, in the good sense. In the sense that Jesus talked about when he invited the kids to come be with him, when he said that whoever welcomes a little child welcomes him. I was reading the section of the Transfiguration in the gospel of Mark . Peter, James, and John get to go on a hike with Jesus. He supernaturally changes and then Elijah and Moses appear. The three of them are having a chat and “they were so frightened” that Peter “didn’t know what to say” (9:6). So instead of just keeping quiet and taking in as much as he could and being silent in wonder, he spoke up and said something foolish. He was uncomfortable with the situation. He was scared, he felt like he needed to say or do something. Kids don’t do that. If there’s something they don’t understand, something amazing, they let themselves be amazed. Or if they have a question, they ask it. Why do we lose those attributes when we get older?
It was nice work. Of course it feels good to be out in the fresh air, and to be getting exercise, but also to see progress, to see something happen, makes it so satisfying. My work here is usually very unlike that. I’m working with people, with children, and hoping to see long-term change. A friend called it a “slow redemption process” that’s being worked out. In Little J., in all the kids, in me, in all of us.
We’re all being pruned, cut back, shifted about, refuse thrown in a pile for disposal, making room for better things to grow and making us more useful and use-able. ‘As iron sharpens iron, so one friend sharpens another.’ Community is so important to our growth processes. ‘Abide in Christ’ and the Father will take care of the changing process, the Father is the gardener who does the pruning and watering and fruit-producing.
Another thing that I’ve been thinking about this week is being child-like, in the good sense. In the sense that Jesus talked about when he invited the kids to come be with him, when he said that whoever welcomes a little child welcomes him. I was reading the section of the Transfiguration in the gospel of Mark . Peter, James, and John get to go on a hike with Jesus. He supernaturally changes and then Elijah and Moses appear. The three of them are having a chat and “they were so frightened” that Peter “didn’t know what to say” (9:6). So instead of just keeping quiet and taking in as much as he could and being silent in wonder, he spoke up and said something foolish. He was uncomfortable with the situation. He was scared, he felt like he needed to say or do something. Kids don’t do that. If there’s something they don’t understand, something amazing, they let themselves be amazed. Or if they have a question, they ask it. Why do we lose those attributes when we get older?
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
The sun always comes up
October is a rainy month. One afternoon I got caught in a downpour twice, and even though I had an umbrella I had to change both times because my pants were soaked! It was definitely a "frog strangler" as I grew up hearing, or "raining buckets" or, as we say here "Estaba cayendo un palo de agua" -- which I like to translate, it's raining so hard it'll beat you with a stick!
We had a whole week of rain, but since then it's been nice with a few days of sun and then a rainy one. Today was clear. I woke up early and came upstairs as the eastern sky was starting to lighten. The morning star twinkled over the stark black line of the mountains on the other side of the valley. A few sparse clouds turned pink as roosters welcomed the gift of another day. It's such a blessing that I get to live here on the farm. J. and I are in Viña house now. Another change, but not as drastic as moving from the city to here.
I'm looking toward the horizon of my time here and wondering when the light will break over the peaks and be shed on the next step. Just like I felt this morning, I want to see what will come to light but the moments of semidarkness are so beautiful that I don't want to let them go. I know that as soon as I decide when and where I'm going to do my YWAM trainig school things will begin to change. The planet keeps turning, the star distances itself and fades, the pink clouds turn peach, then grey. Yes, there will be other sunrises, but never the same.
We had a whole week of rain, but since then it's been nice with a few days of sun and then a rainy one. Today was clear. I woke up early and came upstairs as the eastern sky was starting to lighten. The morning star twinkled over the stark black line of the mountains on the other side of the valley. A few sparse clouds turned pink as roosters welcomed the gift of another day. It's such a blessing that I get to live here on the farm. J. and I are in Viña house now. Another change, but not as drastic as moving from the city to here.
I'm looking toward the horizon of my time here and wondering when the light will break over the peaks and be shed on the next step. Just like I felt this morning, I want to see what will come to light but the moments of semidarkness are so beautiful that I don't want to let them go. I know that as soon as I decide when and where I'm going to do my YWAM trainig school things will begin to change. The planet keeps turning, the star distances itself and fades, the pink clouds turn peach, then grey. Yes, there will be other sunrises, but never the same.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Nostalgia
Sitting around the big, wooden table at Kiwi House, finishing up a simple lunch and chatting, I noticed Steve’s hands, holding the soup spoon as he talked to us. They’re my grandfather’s hands. I loved those hands, once so steady and careful, strong yet gentle. A tear stung in my eye, surprising me into turning my head to stop watching Granddad’s hands on Steve’s body.
I just ate a piece of pumpkin pie that Steve’s wife, Evi, made. Thanksgiving is in a month and a half. We’re planning to do a whole dinner, but I know we’ll be missing some things: cranberry sauce, the plates in a stack on the counter, collard greens and turnips, preparing the feast all morning long with the women of the family…
I want to go to the house in Sneads Ferry; I want to go to the beach. I want to eat roast beef in Chesapeake and sit around in the living room with the family. I want to go to the cabin in Robbinsville, and feel free to wander around in the woods a bit. I want to visit at least a dozen places in Greensboro.
I listened to a sermon from my church online last night. I’m thrilled that they now have a podcast, and Greg’s words sunk into my heart, adding to the things God is mixing together over the last week. A few sermons, a letter from a YWAM leader to all the bases, a chapter in the Experiencing God book that we’re studying in small group, conversations with housemates and coworkers… a pinch of this, a handful of that, stirred by hand because these things aren’t quick or easy.
I just ate a piece of pumpkin pie that Steve’s wife, Evi, made. Thanksgiving is in a month and a half. We’re planning to do a whole dinner, but I know we’ll be missing some things: cranberry sauce, the plates in a stack on the counter, collard greens and turnips, preparing the feast all morning long with the women of the family…
I want to go to the house in Sneads Ferry; I want to go to the beach. I want to eat roast beef in Chesapeake and sit around in the living room with the family. I want to go to the cabin in Robbinsville, and feel free to wander around in the woods a bit. I want to visit at least a dozen places in Greensboro.
I listened to a sermon from my church online last night. I’m thrilled that they now have a podcast, and Greg’s words sunk into my heart, adding to the things God is mixing together over the last week. A few sermons, a letter from a YWAM leader to all the bases, a chapter in the Experiencing God book that we’re studying in small group, conversations with housemates and coworkers… a pinch of this, a handful of that, stirred by hand because these things aren’t quick or easy.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
wild honey from the Rock
Psalm 121
I look up to the mountains – does my help come from there?
My help comes from the LORD, who made the heavens and the earth!
He will not let you stumble and fall; the one who watches over you will not sleep.
Indeed, he who watches over Israel never tires and never sleeps.
The LORD himself watches over you! The LORD stands beside you as your protective shade.
The sun will not hurt you by day, nor the moon at night.
The LORD keeps you from all evil and preserves your life.
The LORD keeps watch over you as you come and go, both now and forever.
This morning after I got J. off to Bogotá on the ministry bus, I went inside, poured myself a coffee and a bowl of cereal, and opened up my bible. This was the first thing my eyes landed on. I looked up from the page, out the picture window to the 6:00 a.m. cloud-shrouded mountains. Reading again, tears stung in my eyes at the confirmation that He will never sleep, He will never leave me unattended, having to go it alone. He is the one watching over me, knows my going out and coming in, has plans for good and not for evil, for a future and a hope, will complete the good works he has begun. I, too, am Israel, one who struggles with God and with life.
This morning I thank the LORD for his faithfulness, for a day of rest, for good friends, for a wonderful family, and that He willingly and lovingly takes my worries and stress and mistakes and inability, replacing them with his life, his spirit, his plans.
I feel him say to me, “Don’t pick up the burdens I’ve already taken from you. My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
“For it was I, the LORD your God, who rescued you from the land of Egypt [from the weight of the world on your shoulders that you were not able to rid yourself of]. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it with good things.” Psalm 81:10 (the title of this post also comes from that psalm)
I decide this morning to cast my cares at the foot of the cross, to still my soul in his presence, and to open my mouth, so that my Father and friend can fill me up with good things.
I look up to the mountains – does my help come from there?
My help comes from the LORD, who made the heavens and the earth!
He will not let you stumble and fall; the one who watches over you will not sleep.
Indeed, he who watches over Israel never tires and never sleeps.
The LORD himself watches over you! The LORD stands beside you as your protective shade.
The sun will not hurt you by day, nor the moon at night.
The LORD keeps you from all evil and preserves your life.
The LORD keeps watch over you as you come and go, both now and forever.
This morning after I got J. off to Bogotá on the ministry bus, I went inside, poured myself a coffee and a bowl of cereal, and opened up my bible. This was the first thing my eyes landed on. I looked up from the page, out the picture window to the 6:00 a.m. cloud-shrouded mountains. Reading again, tears stung in my eyes at the confirmation that He will never sleep, He will never leave me unattended, having to go it alone. He is the one watching over me, knows my going out and coming in, has plans for good and not for evil, for a future and a hope, will complete the good works he has begun. I, too, am Israel, one who struggles with God and with life.
This morning I thank the LORD for his faithfulness, for a day of rest, for good friends, for a wonderful family, and that He willingly and lovingly takes my worries and stress and mistakes and inability, replacing them with his life, his spirit, his plans.
I feel him say to me, “Don’t pick up the burdens I’ve already taken from you. My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
“For it was I, the LORD your God, who rescued you from the land of Egypt [from the weight of the world on your shoulders that you were not able to rid yourself of]. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it with good things.” Psalm 81:10 (the title of this post also comes from that psalm)
I decide this morning to cast my cares at the foot of the cross, to still my soul in his presence, and to open my mouth, so that my Father and friend can fill me up with good things.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
country mouse, city mouse
Colombia lost to Uruguay 1-3 in soccer today. Bummer, but it was fun to watch the game with Ingrid at the pizza place.
Decision made about J's and my living situation: Within the next couple of weeks we'll be moving our stuff out of Torre Fuerte (the house in the city) up to La Cabaña, a small house further up the mountain on the ministry farm. It's tiring not having all of our belongings in one space, and I'm excited to get settled in and get our own routine.
The cabin is really cute, and J. can play outside and maybe I can get a hammock to put up in the trees. I want to plant some flowers, and there's a blackberry bush out front. The country girl in me is happy. The city girl in me misses the convenience of the corner stores, atm machines, and transport.
Decision made about J's and my living situation: Within the next couple of weeks we'll be moving our stuff out of Torre Fuerte (the house in the city) up to La Cabaña, a small house further up the mountain on the ministry farm. It's tiring not having all of our belongings in one space, and I'm excited to get settled in and get our own routine.
The cabin is really cute, and J. can play outside and maybe I can get a hammock to put up in the trees. I want to plant some flowers, and there's a blackberry bush out front. The country girl in me is happy. The city girl in me misses the convenience of the corner stores, atm machines, and transport.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Tonight I got to ride a bike. It's my day off, and J is up at the farm while I'm in the city. It hasn't been a very restful day, because I've been running errands and keeping appointments all over the city, but it's still nice to have time to do something different.
At my church there was a presentation by the group who went to Asuncion, Paraguay for the World Mennonite Conference. Many of them went by bus from Bogota to Asuncion, and a bit further, to Buenos Aires. Check out a map to see the distance covered -- it's impressive! I really enjoyed seeing their pictures and hearing a bit about the trip and the conference, especially when they showed photos from Peru, where I've been. I also (knowingly) made the bad decision to drink a little cup of coffee, so I hope I can still get to sleep early!
So, I'm going to this mennonite church, which doesn't mean amish or anything like that. It means that they're supporters of equality in the church, between gender, age, education, wealth; that they're against violence; and in the case of this congregation at least, that they're very involved in social justice and community work. Mennonites are Anabaptists, which I recently learned comes from the time of the reformation, when they "re-baptised" each other (having been baptised as children the first time).
I like the church. It is smallish, has a family feel, has things I can help with (if and when I have time), is involved in the community and cares deeply for social justice in Colombia and globally. In fact, often in the past I've felt more on the pushing-edge in this regard, but this congregation challenges and pushes me more: in other words, I have room to grow in my part of "ushering in the Kingdom of God", and this church can help me in that growth.
But I wish I could fit into a category of some sort. I grew up Baptist, went to a non-denominational church for a while, then a Presbyterian church, and now a Mennonite church. There are things I like about all of the churches I've been a part of, and things I've questioned as well. It would be a lot easier to be able to say that I am 100% on board with everything; in other words, to fit in. (Or what seems to me to be fitting in.)
I know that it doesn't really matter and that, in fact, I don't LIKE labels that completely identify a person, but I sometimes feel like I have a big secret in not being mennonite, or in not knowing my stance on non-violence.
Anyways, those are just some thoughts, but the ride home on a bike borrowed from a friend was nice.
Things are going really well at the farm, even though it's still hard to get up so early on days we have to come down to the city with the ministry bus, and it's cold, and the hot water heater is broken in Kiwi House (where we are currently).
At my church there was a presentation by the group who went to Asuncion, Paraguay for the World Mennonite Conference. Many of them went by bus from Bogota to Asuncion, and a bit further, to Buenos Aires. Check out a map to see the distance covered -- it's impressive! I really enjoyed seeing their pictures and hearing a bit about the trip and the conference, especially when they showed photos from Peru, where I've been. I also (knowingly) made the bad decision to drink a little cup of coffee, so I hope I can still get to sleep early!
So, I'm going to this mennonite church, which doesn't mean amish or anything like that. It means that they're supporters of equality in the church, between gender, age, education, wealth; that they're against violence; and in the case of this congregation at least, that they're very involved in social justice and community work. Mennonites are Anabaptists, which I recently learned comes from the time of the reformation, when they "re-baptised" each other (having been baptised as children the first time).
I like the church. It is smallish, has a family feel, has things I can help with (if and when I have time), is involved in the community and cares deeply for social justice in Colombia and globally. In fact, often in the past I've felt more on the pushing-edge in this regard, but this congregation challenges and pushes me more: in other words, I have room to grow in my part of "ushering in the Kingdom of God", and this church can help me in that growth.
But I wish I could fit into a category of some sort. I grew up Baptist, went to a non-denominational church for a while, then a Presbyterian church, and now a Mennonite church. There are things I like about all of the churches I've been a part of, and things I've questioned as well. It would be a lot easier to be able to say that I am 100% on board with everything; in other words, to fit in. (Or what seems to me to be fitting in.)
I know that it doesn't really matter and that, in fact, I don't LIKE labels that completely identify a person, but I sometimes feel like I have a big secret in not being mennonite, or in not knowing my stance on non-violence.
Anyways, those are just some thoughts, but the ride home on a bike borrowed from a friend was nice.
Things are going really well at the farm, even though it's still hard to get up so early on days we have to come down to the city with the ministry bus, and it's cold, and the hot water heater is broken in Kiwi House (where we are currently).
Sunday, August 16, 2009
country living
J. and I are up at the farm for the month, living in Kiwi house while Bibiana is in Venezuela on vacation. It's really nice to be out in the country and the last two days have been really pretty and we've enjoyed having a yard and other kids to play with. Today we walked down to the highway to catch the bus into the city and go to church. It was a long day, but for me it was worth it to see some friends and get into the city for a few hours.
Now the little ones in the house are asleep (finally, after all of them decided to cry and scream for about a half hour) and we older girls are about to play cards, while eating popcorn and candy from the States (that Jessica brought back) and watching a movie. Good times :)
The only thing about being up here is that we'll have to get up really really early on the week days to get ready and go down to the city... ugh. Anyways, tomorrow we don't have to so we'll enjoy another peaceful day here, hopefully!
Now the little ones in the house are asleep (finally, after all of them decided to cry and scream for about a half hour) and we older girls are about to play cards, while eating popcorn and candy from the States (that Jessica brought back) and watching a movie. Good times :)
The only thing about being up here is that we'll have to get up really really early on the week days to get ready and go down to the city... ugh. Anyways, tomorrow we don't have to so we'll enjoy another peaceful day here, hopefully!
Thursday, August 6, 2009
An update from the situation a week ago:
Things are better.
I had a couple of rough evenings, but Monday I got to go to the area meeting for those of us in 24-hour care, and that was really good to be around other people who have made similar mistakes and with whom we can share struggles and hear advice and experiences and encouragement.
Also, God has been good in reminding me that he loves me, he loves J., and miracle of miracles, he wants to use us to work in each others' lives.
I also had to repent of the fact that I'd been complaining a lot lately, so this week has been happier since I'm trying to lighten up on griping to God. :)
Yesterday I got to be a nerd (how fun!) because a lady from church who teaches French and is about to start teaching Spanish invited me to a talk at a local university. It was about methodology and ideas for teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (what I did in Greensboro for a year and a half). It was fun to be at a university again and listening to something that interests me. I've had a few different people ask me for English classes, and I'm probably going to start giving a group class once a week, so the speaker's ideas were helpful.
Okay, I'm going to go run a couple of errands and then have my Spanish lesson for the week (to see how good or bad I did my homework, hehehe)
Blessings to my readers, the world over.
Things are better.
I had a couple of rough evenings, but Monday I got to go to the area meeting for those of us in 24-hour care, and that was really good to be around other people who have made similar mistakes and with whom we can share struggles and hear advice and experiences and encouragement.
Also, God has been good in reminding me that he loves me, he loves J., and miracle of miracles, he wants to use us to work in each others' lives.
I also had to repent of the fact that I'd been complaining a lot lately, so this week has been happier since I'm trying to lighten up on griping to God. :)
Yesterday I got to be a nerd (how fun!) because a lady from church who teaches French and is about to start teaching Spanish invited me to a talk at a local university. It was about methodology and ideas for teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (what I did in Greensboro for a year and a half). It was fun to be at a university again and listening to something that interests me. I've had a few different people ask me for English classes, and I'm probably going to start giving a group class once a week, so the speaker's ideas were helpful.
Okay, I'm going to go run a couple of errands and then have my Spanish lesson for the week (to see how good or bad I did my homework, hehehe)
Blessings to my readers, the world over.
Friday, July 31, 2009
daily life
Yesterday was my day off: wonderful. It was a beautiful, sunny day (all day long!) and I went for breakfast at a historical diner (Bogota-style), then I went shopping a bit. I tried to buy a cell phone to replace the one that got stolen (the company gave me a replacement SIM card for free, with the same number), but at the places I asked they didn't have ones that were compatible with my company. So instead of getting a phone, which I need, I bought clothes... and not even jeans, which I need! Oh well, that's part of being a girl, I suppose. :)
In the afternoon when J. got home, some friends also came over. We all went across the street and got milkshakes, then went to the park, where we took off our shoes and socks in the grass and J. and Luke played hide and seek.
We went back to the house and Liz and I left for my church, armed with a guitar, a chord sheet, and a cake. Last night there was an open-mic kind of night so we sang a song and hung out. Ingrid and Luke came also; Luke gave us a standing ovation, haha. We actually did a good job, and tomorrow I'm going to worship practice and the main singer-lady wants to do the song that Liz and I sang. Good stuff... I'm pretty happy to get involved with the music there, at least once or twice a month would be nice.
Today was decent. After a nap, I did get a cell phone, and then watched CARS with J. and we ate pizza.
Sometimes I wonder why God has entrusted me with this child. This adventure is definitely proof to me that I cannot do anything good enough on my own. That the things I want to do, I don't. I'm an adult and I shouldn't react poorly to a four-year-old's attitude. I should be able to handle it. I should I should I should... basically this is showing me a lot of my broken areas, but at least for tonight I haven't let Jesus sit down next to me and take that stuff and forgive it. I'm not believing that he can use my failures, I'm not trusting that he knows what he's doing in my life and in J's. I want to blame it on my being "alone" in 24-hour care, but it's not just that... I think it has more to do with my brokenness.
What will tomorrow hold?
In the afternoon when J. got home, some friends also came over. We all went across the street and got milkshakes, then went to the park, where we took off our shoes and socks in the grass and J. and Luke played hide and seek.
We went back to the house and Liz and I left for my church, armed with a guitar, a chord sheet, and a cake. Last night there was an open-mic kind of night so we sang a song and hung out. Ingrid and Luke came also; Luke gave us a standing ovation, haha. We actually did a good job, and tomorrow I'm going to worship practice and the main singer-lady wants to do the song that Liz and I sang. Good stuff... I'm pretty happy to get involved with the music there, at least once or twice a month would be nice.
Today was decent. After a nap, I did get a cell phone, and then watched CARS with J. and we ate pizza.
Sometimes I wonder why God has entrusted me with this child. This adventure is definitely proof to me that I cannot do anything good enough on my own. That the things I want to do, I don't. I'm an adult and I shouldn't react poorly to a four-year-old's attitude. I should be able to handle it. I should I should I should... basically this is showing me a lot of my broken areas, but at least for tonight I haven't let Jesus sit down next to me and take that stuff and forgive it. I'm not believing that he can use my failures, I'm not trusting that he knows what he's doing in my life and in J's. I want to blame it on my being "alone" in 24-hour care, but it's not just that... I think it has more to do with my brokenness.
What will tomorrow hold?
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
villavicencio
Last weekend little J. went to the farm so I had Saturday-Monday off. Ingrid and I went out of town, about 2 1/2 hours away, to a small city called Villavicencio. It is the gateway to the plains... beautiful country, with layers of the Andes to the north, and opening into flat, broad expanses in the other directions.
We got into town late, but without any major problems (just more confusion about where the bus leaves from. It seems that I really need to research these things better before I go out of the house!). We found a hotel that we could afford, and settled in. The next day, we went horseback riding, because the plains area is famous for cowboy-type things. First, Ingrid got bitten (slightly) by a moody horse in the stable while we were waiting to begin the trail ride. Later, out on the trail through pastures, her horse ran her into a tree. Mine refused to canter, going from trot to bucking me when I tried to urge it into the next gait. The neat bits of the ride were the beautiful day, the warm weather, riding through a creek that covered half of the horses (up to mid-calf on me), seeing leaf cutter ants, and eating ice cream afterward.
That night we went out to eat and walked around a bit. Earlier I had seen some people setting up a stage in the main square, but it turned out not to be for Sunday night, but rather for Monday mid-day, since July 20 is the national holiday. The whole time we were there the town seemed a bit sleepy, had a beach town feel even though it's probably 15 hours from the ocean, and even the area that someone said was dangerous didn't seem bad at all, although of course we didn't just go hang out.
Monday morning, we decided to go find the river, which on the map is a huge, beautiful, blue expanse on the border of town. I had visions of swimming, or at least wading, in the water and generally enjoying a good time by the water, like we would in North Carolina.
Instead, the gray, muddy water seemed very low, and the banks were made of cobble-sized rocks. Off in the distance we saw people working by the shore and a community of houses. To the other direction it was deserted and seemed like we could go explore a bit.
Note: Rules of life are different here. For me, I feel safe in the country, but on-guard in the city. Here, that isn't necessarily true, as we were about to find out.
We walked down to the shore, by the bridge, and a group of teens accosted us, demanding everything. By the grace of God, they didn't harm us or even touch us. Also they let me take out my ID card, which really surprised me. The things I'm most bummed about losing are the camera that Mom and Dad just left for me (it was in the purse), and the purse itself, which was a gift from a Burmese student when I taught English in High Point. God was also gracious in having me leave my debit card and the equivalent of $35 in the hotel room that day, which was enough to get us back to Bogota without any more trouble.
We went straight to the police, but there was nothing to be done. I'm sure the kids had already dispersed and hidden the stuff to sell later. I hope their girlfriends enjoy the sunglasses... We got a ride back to the hotel in a police van, and called Bogota and packed our bags to the sound of the independence day parade.
For the rest of the day we were a bit shaken up, a bit subdued, very thankful to God, and feeling very stupid for going down there. Neither of us slept very well last night, but today I feel calm and super thankful for God's mercy.
When we explained to the police that we're in Colombia working with children at risk, with street kids, like those who robbed us, we had to laugh a bit at the irony of it all. But seeing first hand how they're living makes me more eager in my work, that they children I love on every day would not end up in street gangs, but instead would learn that there is another, better way to live.
We got into town late, but without any major problems (just more confusion about where the bus leaves from. It seems that I really need to research these things better before I go out of the house!). We found a hotel that we could afford, and settled in. The next day, we went horseback riding, because the plains area is famous for cowboy-type things. First, Ingrid got bitten (slightly) by a moody horse in the stable while we were waiting to begin the trail ride. Later, out on the trail through pastures, her horse ran her into a tree. Mine refused to canter, going from trot to bucking me when I tried to urge it into the next gait. The neat bits of the ride were the beautiful day, the warm weather, riding through a creek that covered half of the horses (up to mid-calf on me), seeing leaf cutter ants, and eating ice cream afterward.
That night we went out to eat and walked around a bit. Earlier I had seen some people setting up a stage in the main square, but it turned out not to be for Sunday night, but rather for Monday mid-day, since July 20 is the national holiday. The whole time we were there the town seemed a bit sleepy, had a beach town feel even though it's probably 15 hours from the ocean, and even the area that someone said was dangerous didn't seem bad at all, although of course we didn't just go hang out.
Monday morning, we decided to go find the river, which on the map is a huge, beautiful, blue expanse on the border of town. I had visions of swimming, or at least wading, in the water and generally enjoying a good time by the water, like we would in North Carolina.
Instead, the gray, muddy water seemed very low, and the banks were made of cobble-sized rocks. Off in the distance we saw people working by the shore and a community of houses. To the other direction it was deserted and seemed like we could go explore a bit.
Note: Rules of life are different here. For me, I feel safe in the country, but on-guard in the city. Here, that isn't necessarily true, as we were about to find out.
We walked down to the shore, by the bridge, and a group of teens accosted us, demanding everything. By the grace of God, they didn't harm us or even touch us. Also they let me take out my ID card, which really surprised me. The things I'm most bummed about losing are the camera that Mom and Dad just left for me (it was in the purse), and the purse itself, which was a gift from a Burmese student when I taught English in High Point. God was also gracious in having me leave my debit card and the equivalent of $35 in the hotel room that day, which was enough to get us back to Bogota without any more trouble.
We went straight to the police, but there was nothing to be done. I'm sure the kids had already dispersed and hidden the stuff to sell later. I hope their girlfriends enjoy the sunglasses... We got a ride back to the hotel in a police van, and called Bogota and packed our bags to the sound of the independence day parade.
For the rest of the day we were a bit shaken up, a bit subdued, very thankful to God, and feeling very stupid for going down there. Neither of us slept very well last night, but today I feel calm and super thankful for God's mercy.
When we explained to the police that we're in Colombia working with children at risk, with street kids, like those who robbed us, we had to laugh a bit at the irony of it all. But seeing first hand how they're living makes me more eager in my work, that they children I love on every day would not end up in street gangs, but instead would learn that there is another, better way to live.
Friday, July 10, 2009
vacation
Two days after the last post, Mom and Dad arrived to visit for a couple of weeks. What a relief! God's timing is perfect, even in knowing when I really need a break and how to encourage me. Among the things we did was take a 2-day trip out of the city. I had found a place that sounded neat on the internet, so Wednesday morning we went to Portal de la 80 to catch a bus out of Bogota to Tobia, in hot country. As soon as we went through the turnstile from the Transmilenio (like a subway or metro system) to the waiting flotas (buses between towns)I saw one with a sign in the window for the place we were headed to, so I asked the driver how much it cost and how long it would take and we piled in. I was surprised at how inexpensive the fare was, and how short he said the trip would be, but we arrived without problems after passing through the beautiful "savannah" of Bogota.
It didn't seem very hot, and I didn't know where the hotel was, so we went to a bakery for a snack and to wait for the hotel agent to call me back. When he did, I realized my error: the hotel in hot country is in Tobia and we had gotten on a bus for Tabio, less than an hour from Bogota! With instructions from the hotel guy and a man in the bakery we hopped on a bus back toward Bogota (whose driver was in a terrible hurry and liked to honk the horn a lot) until we arrived at the traffic circle of Siberia: a major crossroad for any vehicle leaving or heading toward the capital on the road to Medellin.
We waited about a half hour for the bus to Villeta to finally pass (meanwhile my foster kid picked me every dandelion, almost ran out into the major highway, and was put on a "leash" by my Dad.
This time the trip was more what I expected: we crossed through the beautiful mountains and as we started going lower, it got warmer and warmer! Hotel guy had told me to get off the bus at La Maria and take either a bus or a "carrito". Where the road to La Peña meets the carretera to Villeta there is a place for passersby to buy empanadas and sodas and sit under the shade of a little roof. Apparently this crossroads is called La Maria. We sat on the step of the store and finished the strawberries I had bought through the window of the bus. I lent a minute on my cell phone to the other family that had gotten off at the same spot. A red car pulled up and turned off the ignition. "Those who are going to Tobia: he'll take you."
It seemed a bit random, as I hadn't understood that a "carrito" would be someone's private vehicle, but we hopped in and started down the road which soon turned to gravel, some places so steep that I can't imagine how they make it in the rainy season. On our left Rio Tobia flowed on ahead of us, leading the way, and the car dropped us off in the hamlet, where the Rio Negro runs into the Tobia.
After all the adventure that was arriving, my delight in the perfect getaway was completed when we pulled in (in the hotel manager's car) and I saw the rushing river in front of the hotel, complete with pool and hammocks and beautiful nature.
The next night we were back in Bogota, but I felt better having been away from traffic and pollution and 8 million people for even a night.
It didn't seem very hot, and I didn't know where the hotel was, so we went to a bakery for a snack and to wait for the hotel agent to call me back. When he did, I realized my error: the hotel in hot country is in Tobia and we had gotten on a bus for Tabio, less than an hour from Bogota! With instructions from the hotel guy and a man in the bakery we hopped on a bus back toward Bogota (whose driver was in a terrible hurry and liked to honk the horn a lot) until we arrived at the traffic circle of Siberia: a major crossroad for any vehicle leaving or heading toward the capital on the road to Medellin.
We waited about a half hour for the bus to Villeta to finally pass (meanwhile my foster kid picked me every dandelion, almost ran out into the major highway, and was put on a "leash" by my Dad.
This time the trip was more what I expected: we crossed through the beautiful mountains and as we started going lower, it got warmer and warmer! Hotel guy had told me to get off the bus at La Maria and take either a bus or a "carrito". Where the road to La Peña meets the carretera to Villeta there is a place for passersby to buy empanadas and sodas and sit under the shade of a little roof. Apparently this crossroads is called La Maria. We sat on the step of the store and finished the strawberries I had bought through the window of the bus. I lent a minute on my cell phone to the other family that had gotten off at the same spot. A red car pulled up and turned off the ignition. "Those who are going to Tobia: he'll take you."
It seemed a bit random, as I hadn't understood that a "carrito" would be someone's private vehicle, but we hopped in and started down the road which soon turned to gravel, some places so steep that I can't imagine how they make it in the rainy season. On our left Rio Tobia flowed on ahead of us, leading the way, and the car dropped us off in the hamlet, where the Rio Negro runs into the Tobia.
After all the adventure that was arriving, my delight in the perfect getaway was completed when we pulled in (in the hotel manager's car) and I saw the rushing river in front of the hotel, complete with pool and hammocks and beautiful nature.
The next night we were back in Bogota, but I felt better having been away from traffic and pollution and 8 million people for even a night.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
desanimada
two rough weeks have come and gone.
i feel beat.
but mom and dad will be here in 2 days, and i feel sure that they will help encourage me.
i'm starting to wonder if i just need to have a cry for myself about every two months. i came in february and around easter needed to cry. then today i felt the same "need to cry but don't know why"... has it been two months since easter?
when i understand why i'm crying it's not as disturbing, i think. (because i DO cry more often than every two months, but usually with identifiable causes.)
my child is heart broken.
my child's behavior is atrocious.
i feel beat.
but mom and dad will be here in 2 days, and i feel sure that they will help encourage me.
i'm starting to wonder if i just need to have a cry for myself about every two months. i came in february and around easter needed to cry. then today i felt the same "need to cry but don't know why"... has it been two months since easter?
when i understand why i'm crying it's not as disturbing, i think. (because i DO cry more often than every two months, but usually with identifiable causes.)
my child is heart broken.
my child's behavior is atrocious.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
the normal...
My parents will be here in 2 weeks. My computer is jacked up (I think and hope it`s fixable, but I don`t know anything about that stuff and don`t have the desire to even mess with it. bah!). This Saturday, some friends and I will spend the afternoon having a cooking day... we did one about a month and a half ago, and it was really fun. I`ve said I`ll make a dessert, but I can`t decide yet which one to make. I got a box in the mail from Rebecca with a few bday goodies and some things for housemates and a friend and a little horse and cow for J. He has been mooing and neighing all afternoon.
Today I had my morning/afternoon off, which was a real blessing because yesterday was a rough day between J. and myself: Before he went to bed, he lost every single toy he owns, one at a time, and several privileges... all for attitude, sass, and disobedience. But as I was dealing with him, I remembered the verse about God`s mercies being new every morning, so after he was asleep I put everything back in his room (but he still lost the privileges, like going to the bakery or to the park with his tricycle or playing the guitar).
Today I prayed a lot for his hitting issues and the root causes, and I also prayed a lot for my reactions to his disobedience and disrespect. Please join me in these prayers, friends.
I don`t need to take his disrespect as a personal offense or as any sort of reflection on my worth or identity. While I recognize that on the intellectual level, "the coins haven`t dropped" (that is to say, it hasn`t sunk in to the heart-level and made a visceral difference in my life). And that understanding is something I can`t do myself... it`s the work of the spirit. I take encouragement in that, and in knowing that his grace is sufficient, for his power is made perfect in weakness, and that he uses my failures to call me and draw me to himself.
Today I had my morning/afternoon off, which was a real blessing because yesterday was a rough day between J. and myself: Before he went to bed, he lost every single toy he owns, one at a time, and several privileges... all for attitude, sass, and disobedience. But as I was dealing with him, I remembered the verse about God`s mercies being new every morning, so after he was asleep I put everything back in his room (but he still lost the privileges, like going to the bakery or to the park with his tricycle or playing the guitar).
Today I prayed a lot for his hitting issues and the root causes, and I also prayed a lot for my reactions to his disobedience and disrespect. Please join me in these prayers, friends.
I don`t need to take his disrespect as a personal offense or as any sort of reflection on my worth or identity. While I recognize that on the intellectual level, "the coins haven`t dropped" (that is to say, it hasn`t sunk in to the heart-level and made a visceral difference in my life). And that understanding is something I can`t do myself... it`s the work of the spirit. I take encouragement in that, and in knowing that his grace is sufficient, for his power is made perfect in weakness, and that he uses my failures to call me and draw me to himself.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
birthday surprises
On Saturday, May 30, at about 8:30 in the morning, I completed 24 years of living and breathing without an umbilical cord.
I woke up that morning around 6:30, right before my child walked into my room and crawled into my bed. I pretended to sleep for the next hour while he played with my clock and chapstick. We got up and he went downstairs to the kitchen with my two roommates and two friends who had spent the night. I knew they were cooking breakfast for me, and shortly thereafter Ingrid brought up a coffee in my mug. I spent a little while reading my Bible and journaling, then took a nice long shower and got ready. What I thought was just breakfast for the six of us turned out to be a huge brunch for twelve people. Very thankful for good friends and good food, I found out the celebration had just begun. It was a very sunny day (I was thinking of taking J. to the park with his tricycle) and they told me we were going to a pool. "In Bogota???" But they wouldn't tell me where.
It turned out to not just be a pool, but a water park with a wave pool and some really cool slides, all enclosed under a greenhouse-type building (which is nice for Bogota's normal weather, but the day was so sunny I was a bit sad to miss out on the tanning opportunity).
We played for hours, at the end of which I received another surprise: J. pooped in the pool. I was flustered and trying to figure out the best way to get him clean and changed and take care of poopy boxers, but I had to laugh because it was just the cherry on top of my birthday. I thought we'd go home and get him showered and changed, but instead I rinsed him off in the cold shower at the park because they told me we were going to a restaurant.
We took a bus to a mall, where Madeline disappeared and I went with Ingrid, Fabian, J., and Warner into Exito (Walmart) and they started looking at clothes. Madeline showed up with a basket full of food/ingredients and then they picked out a silly shirt for me. We left the store and I had to change into my birthday suit (I mean, shirt...) and then we took another bus to the 127 house (the ministry HQ), where most everyone in the ministry was waiting to help celebrate!
Some folks had made cakes and others got to working chopping veggies and cooking ground beef for a taco salad. We ate and then they put on dance music! (I put J. in bed shortly after we arrived, because he had already eaten something and he was really tired and I didn't feel like fighting with his tired little self.)
I don't think I've ever had such a complete day of birthday celebration and surprises! I really kept thinking their plans were completed and then found out they had something else up their sleeves! I'm trying to think of a way to thank them all...
Another surprise, that we got yesterday, is that we don't have any water! Since living here in Torre Fuerte, we've had our electricy cut off, our gas meter stolen (and thus cut), and now our water meter stolen! This is definitely the most difficult. Hopefully we'll get it back tomorrow. Our kitchen is disgusting, our bathrooms are gross (we had to get buckets of water from the neighbors to flush the toilets and bathe me and J.), and I'm realizing how much I take the convenience of the faucet for granted...
I woke up that morning around 6:30, right before my child walked into my room and crawled into my bed. I pretended to sleep for the next hour while he played with my clock and chapstick. We got up and he went downstairs to the kitchen with my two roommates and two friends who had spent the night. I knew they were cooking breakfast for me, and shortly thereafter Ingrid brought up a coffee in my mug. I spent a little while reading my Bible and journaling, then took a nice long shower and got ready. What I thought was just breakfast for the six of us turned out to be a huge brunch for twelve people. Very thankful for good friends and good food, I found out the celebration had just begun. It was a very sunny day (I was thinking of taking J. to the park with his tricycle) and they told me we were going to a pool. "In Bogota???" But they wouldn't tell me where.
It turned out to not just be a pool, but a water park with a wave pool and some really cool slides, all enclosed under a greenhouse-type building (which is nice for Bogota's normal weather, but the day was so sunny I was a bit sad to miss out on the tanning opportunity).
We played for hours, at the end of which I received another surprise: J. pooped in the pool. I was flustered and trying to figure out the best way to get him clean and changed and take care of poopy boxers, but I had to laugh because it was just the cherry on top of my birthday. I thought we'd go home and get him showered and changed, but instead I rinsed him off in the cold shower at the park because they told me we were going to a restaurant.
We took a bus to a mall, where Madeline disappeared and I went with Ingrid, Fabian, J., and Warner into Exito (Walmart) and they started looking at clothes. Madeline showed up with a basket full of food/ingredients and then they picked out a silly shirt for me. We left the store and I had to change into my birthday suit (I mean, shirt...) and then we took another bus to the 127 house (the ministry HQ), where most everyone in the ministry was waiting to help celebrate!
Some folks had made cakes and others got to working chopping veggies and cooking ground beef for a taco salad. We ate and then they put on dance music! (I put J. in bed shortly after we arrived, because he had already eaten something and he was really tired and I didn't feel like fighting with his tired little self.)
I don't think I've ever had such a complete day of birthday celebration and surprises! I really kept thinking their plans were completed and then found out they had something else up their sleeves! I'm trying to think of a way to thank them all...
Another surprise, that we got yesterday, is that we don't have any water! Since living here in Torre Fuerte, we've had our electricy cut off, our gas meter stolen (and thus cut), and now our water meter stolen! This is definitely the most difficult. Hopefully we'll get it back tomorrow. Our kitchen is disgusting, our bathrooms are gross (we had to get buckets of water from the neighbors to flush the toilets and bathe me and J.), and I'm realizing how much I take the convenience of the faucet for granted...
Thursday, May 21, 2009
poetry and life in community
This afternoon was part of my weekly free time. Free time is very important for creativity. I wrote these:
"Afternoon Off psalm"
The Lord reigns.
The Lord is high above the clouds, above the blue, above the sun.
The Lord filters down through the leaves and the noise of construction and traffic.
The Lord perches on top of Colpatria building, smiling on his people.
The Lord leaps --- and flies over his city; pigeons roaming about.
The Lord reigns; in Bogota.
The Lord makes grass grow beneath my toes in Parque Nacional.
The Lord is with us, took on flesh and lowered himself.
The Lord smiles with me at birdsong and sunshine.
The Lord weeps for the broken ones.
The Lord cries for the teenager searching through garbage, for the woman standing in the doorway, for the addict, for the displaced, for the child who roams and trusts no one.
The Lord aches for the chic of the North, for the bohemian in La Candelaria, for the businessman, for the university student, for the disenchanted.
The Lord is here, and yet they have not seen him, nor heard him, nor asked for whom he smiles and cries.
The Lord smiles, and cries, for us.
_______________________________________________________
I firmly believe that mankind was created to enjoy nights like these (among many other things).
This evening I walked down to the Thirty with the world.
They, to their homes, or out for dinner, or to the hospital Mederi - by which name nobody knows it - formerly San Pedro Clavel, or to wherever the first bus that passes would carry them.
I, to meet my friend and pick up my child.
_______________________________________________________
So I had a great afternoon, after a day at work that wasn't bad, but also just wasn't my day. Then I was happy to go pick up J. from Madeline at about 6:30. My plan was that we would go buy chicken pastelillos from the bakery as a treat for us both, then eat and get him to bed.
At 6:45 I got a call that they were still in the north -- at that time of day a 30-minute bus ride at the very least, and I like to have him in bed by 7:30... and they were about to get pizza.
Living in community is difficult. Add a pre-schooler and his routine into the mix and it gets more complicated. He didn't get to sleep until 8:45, and that was when he passed out in the taxi after we left earlier than they wanted me to (because he couldn't get to sleep on the mattress in the office). I am frustrated.
"Afternoon Off psalm"
The Lord reigns.
The Lord is high above the clouds, above the blue, above the sun.
The Lord filters down through the leaves and the noise of construction and traffic.
The Lord perches on top of Colpatria building, smiling on his people.
The Lord leaps --- and flies over his city; pigeons roaming about.
The Lord reigns; in Bogota.
The Lord makes grass grow beneath my toes in Parque Nacional.
The Lord is with us, took on flesh and lowered himself.
The Lord smiles with me at birdsong and sunshine.
The Lord weeps for the broken ones.
The Lord cries for the teenager searching through garbage, for the woman standing in the doorway, for the addict, for the displaced, for the child who roams and trusts no one.
The Lord aches for the chic of the North, for the bohemian in La Candelaria, for the businessman, for the university student, for the disenchanted.
The Lord is here, and yet they have not seen him, nor heard him, nor asked for whom he smiles and cries.
The Lord smiles, and cries, for us.
_______________________________________________________
I firmly believe that mankind was created to enjoy nights like these (among many other things).
This evening I walked down to the Thirty with the world.
They, to their homes, or out for dinner, or to the hospital Mederi - by which name nobody knows it - formerly San Pedro Clavel, or to wherever the first bus that passes would carry them.
I, to meet my friend and pick up my child.
_______________________________________________________
So I had a great afternoon, after a day at work that wasn't bad, but also just wasn't my day. Then I was happy to go pick up J. from Madeline at about 6:30. My plan was that we would go buy chicken pastelillos from the bakery as a treat for us both, then eat and get him to bed.
At 6:45 I got a call that they were still in the north -- at that time of day a 30-minute bus ride at the very least, and I like to have him in bed by 7:30... and they were about to get pizza.
Living in community is difficult. Add a pre-schooler and his routine into the mix and it gets more complicated. He didn't get to sleep until 8:45, and that was when he passed out in the taxi after we left earlier than they wanted me to (because he couldn't get to sleep on the mattress in the office). I am frustrated.
Monday, May 18, 2009
cute sayings of an almost-four-year-old:
while sitting on the toilet, he calls me to the bathroom to tell me, "Emily, I can't go poop in the shower."
while watching march of the penguins, and commenting on how "lindos" and "hermosos" the babies are he stops and joyfully says "Papito Dios, gracias por los pinguinos, amen!" (Daddy God, thank you for the penguins, amen!)
when a visitor to the house asked where the bathroom was, he replied "really far away!" and laughed at his own joke before showing her the way (just around the corner). Madeline and I laughed a lot, too.
Sometimes he makes up his own disciplines. For example, "If I throw the sunglasses I'm going to have to sit in time-out." I probably would have just taken them from him, but he didn't throw them so it's okay.
He often dances and sings (in English) "I like to move it, move it!"
Rebecca, his former caregiver, left a little over a week ago, so we're adjusting to life with just each other (and our remaining 2 housemates, of course).
My birthday is in two weeks... it's strange that it's already here. Twenty-four: the age I felt like I was turning last year this time. I haven't had a spring breaking through winter and then growing into summer to help me comprehend the passage of February, March, April, and half of May... I miss seasons!
while sitting on the toilet, he calls me to the bathroom to tell me, "Emily, I can't go poop in the shower."
while watching march of the penguins, and commenting on how "lindos" and "hermosos" the babies are he stops and joyfully says "Papito Dios, gracias por los pinguinos, amen!" (Daddy God, thank you for the penguins, amen!)
when a visitor to the house asked where the bathroom was, he replied "really far away!" and laughed at his own joke before showing her the way (just around the corner). Madeline and I laughed a lot, too.
Sometimes he makes up his own disciplines. For example, "If I throw the sunglasses I'm going to have to sit in time-out." I probably would have just taken them from him, but he didn't throw them so it's okay.
He often dances and sings (in English) "I like to move it, move it!"
Rebecca, his former caregiver, left a little over a week ago, so we're adjusting to life with just each other (and our remaining 2 housemates, of course).
My birthday is in two weeks... it's strange that it's already here. Twenty-four: the age I felt like I was turning last year this time. I haven't had a spring breaking through winter and then growing into summer to help me comprehend the passage of February, March, April, and half of May... I miss seasons!
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Bodily fluids
I forgot to mention that on the bus ride home from Chinauta, J fell asleep and peed... on my lap. About two hours later we were finally home and he was bathed and in bed so I could shower.
Then on Tuesday at work I found the bad smell in the toy room: poop in the corner with the stuffed animals. I couldn't tell if it was from the cat or a kid; I don't really want to know, either. We washed all the stuffed animals... the bunny had poop on its ears.
J helped me cook dinner last night. He likes to help with stuff like that, but a lot of times it's hard for me to figure out how he can actually help me. While I rolled out pie crust for the quiche he played in a pile of flour and had a little ball of dough to smush. Later he was going to help me mix the eggs/meat/cheese, but he was rude to me and had to sit that one out. Then he helped grate carrots, but got bored with it so switched to putting curuba fruits in the blender for the juice. He cut his fingers on the grater, which I kind of figured would happen in spite of my careful instructions, demonstrations, and warnings. It didn't bleed much, though.
Then on Tuesday at work I found the bad smell in the toy room: poop in the corner with the stuffed animals. I couldn't tell if it was from the cat or a kid; I don't really want to know, either. We washed all the stuffed animals... the bunny had poop on its ears.
J helped me cook dinner last night. He likes to help with stuff like that, but a lot of times it's hard for me to figure out how he can actually help me. While I rolled out pie crust for the quiche he played in a pile of flour and had a little ball of dough to smush. Later he was going to help me mix the eggs/meat/cheese, but he was rude to me and had to sit that one out. Then he helped grate carrots, but got bored with it so switched to putting curuba fruits in the blender for the juice. He cut his fingers on the grater, which I kind of figured would happen in spite of my careful instructions, demonstrations, and warnings. It didn't bleed much, though.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
current events
Li'l J got lice. We shaved off his curly hair, which somehow makes him look much older and not as off-balanced: he already has a big head, and the 'fro made him seem top heavy, I suppose, even though I loved it.
At night as I'm putting him to bed we pray together. Usually I ask who he wants to pray for and then I do the talking, but sometimes he wants to say his own prayers. It's really sweet when you can tell he's really thinking about what he's saying, and thanking Papito Dios (Daddy God) for the cool things he got to do that day.
This past weekend we had a YWAM Bogota retreat in nearby Chinauta, which is hot country and rural. Li'l J LOVES the swimming pool! I also had a great time and got spoiled by friends who played with him a lot to give me time to do my own thing; I really appreciated that. He can't pronounce Chinauta... it comes out Chinota
: another cute 3-year-old pronunciation problem. All weekend it was "can I go to the pool now?" and "I want to play with T." (a friend of fellow volunteers)
He needs to learn that to have friends you have to be a friend. He can be a tricky little booger, and downright spiteful when he doesn't get his way. T's dad told me today that while the boys were playing over the weekend, J wanted T's favorite toy tractor, but T didn't want to give it to him. J suggested they play soccer, but as T ran toward the ball, J ran for the tractor.
The signs of the Fall show up really early, huh? Anyways, today T was kind of angry with J...
We watched a sermon by Craig Hill while we were in Chinauta, and it gave me a lot to think about with my relationship with God and especially now helping to raise a child. Maybe I'll post more once I process more, but for now I'll say that I'm wondering what needs to be healed or cut away from inside of me that negatively affects the way I relate to J. It challenged me to discipline with God's discipline instead of punishments based in shame (my own shame being transferred to him).
I don't know if that makes any sense, but like I said maybe I'll go more into it later.
I feel rested. I feel more playful, more fun. That, in itself, is a huge blessing.
Buenas noches
At night as I'm putting him to bed we pray together. Usually I ask who he wants to pray for and then I do the talking, but sometimes he wants to say his own prayers. It's really sweet when you can tell he's really thinking about what he's saying, and thanking Papito Dios (Daddy God) for the cool things he got to do that day.
This past weekend we had a YWAM Bogota retreat in nearby Chinauta, which is hot country and rural. Li'l J LOVES the swimming pool! I also had a great time and got spoiled by friends who played with him a lot to give me time to do my own thing; I really appreciated that. He can't pronounce Chinauta... it comes out Chinota
: another cute 3-year-old pronunciation problem. All weekend it was "can I go to the pool now?" and "I want to play with T." (a friend of fellow volunteers)
He needs to learn that to have friends you have to be a friend. He can be a tricky little booger, and downright spiteful when he doesn't get his way. T's dad told me today that while the boys were playing over the weekend, J wanted T's favorite toy tractor, but T didn't want to give it to him. J suggested they play soccer, but as T ran toward the ball, J ran for the tractor.
The signs of the Fall show up really early, huh? Anyways, today T was kind of angry with J...
We watched a sermon by Craig Hill while we were in Chinauta, and it gave me a lot to think about with my relationship with God and especially now helping to raise a child. Maybe I'll post more once I process more, but for now I'll say that I'm wondering what needs to be healed or cut away from inside of me that negatively affects the way I relate to J. It challenged me to discipline with God's discipline instead of punishments based in shame (my own shame being transferred to him).
I don't know if that makes any sense, but like I said maybe I'll go more into it later.
I feel rested. I feel more playful, more fun. That, in itself, is a huge blessing.
Buenas noches
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Displazada
Sometimes tears come before understanding. This is true of the little boy I take care of a lot, and sometimes also true of me, I'm finding. The last two Monday mornings were crying days for me, and I couldn't really figure out why. Maybe because I hadn't cried in two months and it was just time to do so again? Maybe because "homesickness comes in stages," like Rebecca said? I don't feel homesick in the sense I normally think of, though.
In Bogota there are lots of displazados -- people from other regions of the country who had to leave their homes and move to the city, and they often find themselves with no place to stay, no work, no nothing. In the park outside of El Otro Camino, there are several families of indigenous peoples who dry their clothes in the sun, make beaded bracelets, let their children play on the swingset, and generally look out of place and a bit aimless. Recently another nonColombian friend was talking to one and he told her that she was like him, displazada, displaced, away from home.
Even though I'm willingly displaced, not driven out, maybe I can relate in some small way. Outside of my community of "back home" I feel like I don't know myself as well. New and deeper questions are coming to surface that don't yet have answers. The dream that I'm here to fulfill isn't rose-colored in reality. I feel confident that I'm in the right place, doing the right thing, but it's not easy (or even fun some of the time).
And I think these things are the very tip of the iceberg, and they are very new thoughts so it's difficult to express them all coherently. Basically, things are good and I'm really happy to be here but at the same time I have moments of feeling completely lost and confused and frustrated about my role and who I am: here and in general.
In Bogota there are lots of displazados -- people from other regions of the country who had to leave their homes and move to the city, and they often find themselves with no place to stay, no work, no nothing. In the park outside of El Otro Camino, there are several families of indigenous peoples who dry their clothes in the sun, make beaded bracelets, let their children play on the swingset, and generally look out of place and a bit aimless. Recently another nonColombian friend was talking to one and he told her that she was like him, displazada, displaced, away from home.
Even though I'm willingly displaced, not driven out, maybe I can relate in some small way. Outside of my community of "back home" I feel like I don't know myself as well. New and deeper questions are coming to surface that don't yet have answers. The dream that I'm here to fulfill isn't rose-colored in reality. I feel confident that I'm in the right place, doing the right thing, but it's not easy (or even fun some of the time).
And I think these things are the very tip of the iceberg, and they are very new thoughts so it's difficult to express them all coherently. Basically, things are good and I'm really happy to be here but at the same time I have moments of feeling completely lost and confused and frustrated about my role and who I am: here and in general.
Friday, April 3, 2009
The rabbit in the snare, the stars called by name
I was surprised to find it was Thursday morning already. Flooded with the feeling of life's fleetness again. "These weeks are flying by. My LIFE is FLYING BY. Am I living it well? To the fullest?"
And now it's Friday afternoon, for which I'm glad, and next week is Semana Santa so our regular programs will be closed and the whole team is going up to do work on the "farm"... I'm looking forward to the changes of scenery, pace, tasks, people. Pray for good weather. Lots of rain will mean we can't get the work done that needs done, and we also can't have a bonfire.
Working with children is hard when you're hoarse. By the time we got home today and J. went "directo a la cama" (straight to bed) for having thrown a fit with me, I was left feeling tired, physically and emotionally. I needed to feel more human -- which is the way I describe it when, after working with grungy little kids, I want to feel like a woman again -- so I changed my shirt and took Andrea's advice to pamper myself, repainting my toenails. Then I put on my weekend tennis shoes (that is, the pretty ones) and Madeline did me the favor of being in the house with J. sleeping so I could go across the street to the new coffee shop.
God bless the people who just opened that place. I feel like it's a special gift for me... somewhere less than a minute away where I can go get a cappuchino and sit and regain myself. So I sat and read a bit, and this is what the author said to me this time:
"Paradox again: to take ourselves seriously enough to take ourselves lightly. If every hair on my head is counted, then in the very scheme of the cosmos I matter; I am created by a power who cares about the sparrow, and the rabbit in the snare, and the people on the crowded streets; who calls the stars by name. And you. And me."
And now it's Friday afternoon, for which I'm glad, and next week is Semana Santa so our regular programs will be closed and the whole team is going up to do work on the "farm"... I'm looking forward to the changes of scenery, pace, tasks, people. Pray for good weather. Lots of rain will mean we can't get the work done that needs done, and we also can't have a bonfire.
Working with children is hard when you're hoarse. By the time we got home today and J. went "directo a la cama" (straight to bed) for having thrown a fit with me, I was left feeling tired, physically and emotionally. I needed to feel more human -- which is the way I describe it when, after working with grungy little kids, I want to feel like a woman again -- so I changed my shirt and took Andrea's advice to pamper myself, repainting my toenails. Then I put on my weekend tennis shoes (that is, the pretty ones) and Madeline did me the favor of being in the house with J. sleeping so I could go across the street to the new coffee shop.
God bless the people who just opened that place. I feel like it's a special gift for me... somewhere less than a minute away where I can go get a cappuchino and sit and regain myself. So I sat and read a bit, and this is what the author said to me this time:
"Paradox again: to take ourselves seriously enough to take ourselves lightly. If every hair on my head is counted, then in the very scheme of the cosmos I matter; I am created by a power who cares about the sparrow, and the rabbit in the snare, and the people on the crowded streets; who calls the stars by name. And you. And me."
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Melgar and love
Saturday morning we woke up early, congregated at the Strong Tower (Torre Fuerte: the name of the house I live in), and left in the ministry bus by about 7 a.m. Twelve of us volunteers were headed to Hot Country, to the town of Melgar, to relax for the weekend. Li'l J. stayed at the farm with the other ministry kids and the directors.
We got out of the city, we saw mountains that weren't covered in buildings or shrouded in smog. My ears popped as we lowered, but the mountains didn't disappear like they do in Appalachia. It got warm! Finally we pulled up in front of the Hotel los Toboganes de Melgar, in the rain, but: warm! work-free! on vacation!
It went something like this: check into the rooms, put on swimsuits, jump in the pool, go down the water slides, feel a little out of place as the only foreigners in this hotel (but not too out of place to enjoy ourselves), nap, sit in the late afternoon sun, eat dinner, change, go dancing!
Sunday was more of the same: resting, walking through the town, and generally enjoying ourselves.
Monday morning I pulled out my earplugs just in time to find out that everyone was about to leave to go rent motorbikes, so I got up and got ready quickly (I know that's surprising to anyone who's ever lived with me). We got the motos and started buzzing around, two by two. I sat behind Ingrid and felt like Dumb&Dumber on the tiniest scooter ever. Then we broke down, but I did get to ride a bit more with another coworker.
All told, it was a very fun weekend! I didn't get sunburnt (thank you, SPF 30 and cloud cover), I got to know my coworkers better, we danced, I saw nature, and when we went back to work today I was in a good mood and happy to see the kids. I really think J. grew a centimeter over the weekend! He's been really sweet today (mostly).
~~~~~~~~~~
This morning I prayed that I'll really LOVE li'l J. More than just caring for him and having sweet feelings toward the kid, but really selfless, consistent love. Then I read for a bit, just picking up where I'd started in 1 Samuel, chapter 24 -- and it was when David spares Saul's life. They're in a cave, Saul doesn't know David's in there and David's men encourage him to kill the king, his enemy. But David has mercy, shows respect, loves where he hasn't received love.
This afternoon, when J. went down for his nap and I was washing dishes, I realized with thanksgiving that God loves these kids we work with waaaay more than we ever can. And we care about them a lot. We want only the best for them. We put a lot into them. And God loves me even more than I love myself (which is a lot; I won't pretend self-loathing). And then a song came to mind, which I went and listened to and started learning to play on the guitar:
"...I know all my broken places like the back of my hand
That slapped your face again
Wash me in your love and hold me tight like a baby
Till I have no memory of ever breaking Your heart
And in the joy when you restore me I will stand and walk again
I will run into this world I will call them to come in
But I will not point my finger or grow that wicked skin
That cannot remember what I will not forget
How I broke you, or how I'm broken..."
I love the images of Jesus' love washing away even the memory of my sins, but then that I also don't want to forget where I've been and what he's done for me... because then that love can flow through me.
Finally, there's this quote by quaker Harold Loukes that I received just before moving here:
"An act of love that fails is just as much a part of the divine life as an act of love that succeeds, for love is measured by its own fullness, not by its reception."
We got out of the city, we saw mountains that weren't covered in buildings or shrouded in smog. My ears popped as we lowered, but the mountains didn't disappear like they do in Appalachia. It got warm! Finally we pulled up in front of the Hotel los Toboganes de Melgar, in the rain, but: warm! work-free! on vacation!
It went something like this: check into the rooms, put on swimsuits, jump in the pool, go down the water slides, feel a little out of place as the only foreigners in this hotel (but not too out of place to enjoy ourselves), nap, sit in the late afternoon sun, eat dinner, change, go dancing!
Sunday was more of the same: resting, walking through the town, and generally enjoying ourselves.
Monday morning I pulled out my earplugs just in time to find out that everyone was about to leave to go rent motorbikes, so I got up and got ready quickly (I know that's surprising to anyone who's ever lived with me). We got the motos and started buzzing around, two by two. I sat behind Ingrid and felt like Dumb&Dumber on the tiniest scooter ever. Then we broke down, but I did get to ride a bit more with another coworker.
All told, it was a very fun weekend! I didn't get sunburnt (thank you, SPF 30 and cloud cover), I got to know my coworkers better, we danced, I saw nature, and when we went back to work today I was in a good mood and happy to see the kids. I really think J. grew a centimeter over the weekend! He's been really sweet today (mostly).
~~~~~~~~~~
This morning I prayed that I'll really LOVE li'l J. More than just caring for him and having sweet feelings toward the kid, but really selfless, consistent love. Then I read for a bit, just picking up where I'd started in 1 Samuel, chapter 24 -- and it was when David spares Saul's life. They're in a cave, Saul doesn't know David's in there and David's men encourage him to kill the king, his enemy. But David has mercy, shows respect, loves where he hasn't received love.
This afternoon, when J. went down for his nap and I was washing dishes, I realized with thanksgiving that God loves these kids we work with waaaay more than we ever can. And we care about them a lot. We want only the best for them. We put a lot into them. And God loves me even more than I love myself (which is a lot; I won't pretend self-loathing). And then a song came to mind, which I went and listened to and started learning to play on the guitar:
"...I know all my broken places like the back of my hand
That slapped your face again
Wash me in your love and hold me tight like a baby
Till I have no memory of ever breaking Your heart
And in the joy when you restore me I will stand and walk again
I will run into this world I will call them to come in
But I will not point my finger or grow that wicked skin
That cannot remember what I will not forget
How I broke you, or how I'm broken..."
I love the images of Jesus' love washing away even the memory of my sins, but then that I also don't want to forget where I've been and what he's done for me... because then that love can flow through me.
Finally, there's this quote by quaker Harold Loukes that I received just before moving here:
"An act of love that fails is just as much a part of the divine life as an act of love that succeeds, for love is measured by its own fullness, not by its reception."
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
I want to cook!
But they cut the gas last Thursday and we still haven't gotten it reconnected! Here's how it happened:
I went downstairs to boil some water for tea, but the stove wouldn't light. That evening I asked my roommate, Rebecca, about it and she discovered a lock on the gas box outside. After calling around to make sure the bill got paid, we discovered that the only probable reason the gas got cut off was because the company didn't return to complete an inspection. We were told they'd come by on Saturday to reconnect it, but no one ever showed up. This week we've been asking and calling and expecting that someone else was calling, only to find out that none of us did it. Today we finally got the account numbers and everything, called the company, called their affiliate, and have an appointment set for tomorrow afternoon!
As my non-Spanish-speaking housemate, B.J., always says, "It's Colombia: mañana." Everything is always put off until tomorrow.
So, I'm headed out to the store around the corner to buy food to cook in the microwave. I've gotten tired of eating out. My other housemate, Madeline, searched microwave recipes online so we'll actually have good food.
...if I ever get to leave the house. Right now, the little boy who I'm taking care of is being defiant. We were almost ready to leave, and all he had to do was put on his shoes, but now ten minutes later I'm still trying to get him to just sit in discipline. Life with a 3 1/2 year old is difficult at times, but very rewarding at other times.
Half and hour later, he's finally sitting. Tantrums are no fun for either of us, nor for anyone else who lives in this house or who is visiting. Madeline went to the store herself.
Hopefully after he sits for his five minutes we'll have a good chat and then we can go help Madeline cook, which he likes to do!
I went downstairs to boil some water for tea, but the stove wouldn't light. That evening I asked my roommate, Rebecca, about it and she discovered a lock on the gas box outside. After calling around to make sure the bill got paid, we discovered that the only probable reason the gas got cut off was because the company didn't return to complete an inspection. We were told they'd come by on Saturday to reconnect it, but no one ever showed up. This week we've been asking and calling and expecting that someone else was calling, only to find out that none of us did it. Today we finally got the account numbers and everything, called the company, called their affiliate, and have an appointment set for tomorrow afternoon!
As my non-Spanish-speaking housemate, B.J., always says, "It's Colombia: mañana." Everything is always put off until tomorrow.
So, I'm headed out to the store around the corner to buy food to cook in the microwave. I've gotten tired of eating out. My other housemate, Madeline, searched microwave recipes online so we'll actually have good food.
...if I ever get to leave the house. Right now, the little boy who I'm taking care of is being defiant. We were almost ready to leave, and all he had to do was put on his shoes, but now ten minutes later I'm still trying to get him to just sit in discipline. Life with a 3 1/2 year old is difficult at times, but very rewarding at other times.
Half and hour later, he's finally sitting. Tantrums are no fun for either of us, nor for anyone else who lives in this house or who is visiting. Madeline went to the store herself.
Hopefully after he sits for his five minutes we'll have a good chat and then we can go help Madeline cook, which he likes to do!
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The bad, the good and the beautiful.
Four children peed their pants before lunch today.
My stomach was upset from the time I woke up until... well, is it better yet?
The boy I'm taking care of is having a rough week and our interactions are far from dreamlike.
I tried to make rice and it was terrible.
I have a temper and it's hard for me to control it sometimes.
I'm learning more how to express my frustration in words while I'm still in the difficult situation, which releases my tension and models good verbal expression for the kids.
I live with great folks, who along with a few other friends are downstairs right now playing table tennis on our newly-made ping pong table.
In a little while I get to go to sleep!
There's grace to cover my multitude of sins, accidents, losses of self-control, and bad days.
My stomach was upset from the time I woke up until... well, is it better yet?
The boy I'm taking care of is having a rough week and our interactions are far from dreamlike.
I tried to make rice and it was terrible.
I have a temper and it's hard for me to control it sometimes.
I'm learning more how to express my frustration in words while I'm still in the difficult situation, which releases my tension and models good verbal expression for the kids.
I live with great folks, who along with a few other friends are downstairs right now playing table tennis on our newly-made ping pong table.
In a little while I get to go to sleep!
There's grace to cover my multitude of sins, accidents, losses of self-control, and bad days.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
old city loop
Monday, 3:40 pm, El Otro Camino.
After praying together in the "upper room" (office), six of us head out for a walk from this, our drop-in center in Barrio Santa Fe, a run-down and slightly rough area of Bogota. Walking down streets lined with motorbikes, taxis, trash, and dogs we get further away from areas I've been and enter the section called La Favorita. The streets get wider, dirtier. The graffiti is more prolific; some of it is beautiful. Catholic churches tower every few blocks; men stand or lie among the trash piles. A dog stares; a worndown woman hauls a sack full of whatever she has found. Smoke rises into the dusty afternoon light. I wish I had my camera; know I can't because it's not safe.
From La Favorita, we regroup at a plaza, pray, continue walking. This street consists of blanket shops. (In Bogota all the shops of the same nature are grouped together. I live near the 'funeral street' -- purely marble engravers and florists.) Walking up the street, we pass a side road full of police. This is called the Bronx. I'm distracted by the commotion and trying to figure out what happened. Carlos hears someone advertising marijuana. Apparently Andy looks past all that and sees a lot of kids on that long, dark stretch of the city. We'll pray for entrance to the Bronx to get to know the kids and families there.
Next we cross a large plaza, and a homeless man starts talking to us in New York City English. He's lying on the grass enjoying the sun; I answer his greeting as we pass. Waiting at the corner to cross the next street, he's behind us. Andy talks to him for a few minutes. His name is Joaquin. He lived in NYC for many years; now he's back in Colombia.
After the Bronx and our chat with Joaquin, we're halfway done with our loop. Now we head into the Zona de Tolerancia. The first street is lined with transvestite brothels. Two streets later we pass more brothels; these are actually women, I'm told. We don't see any children, thankfully, but Carlos assures me there are kids living in the buildings in this area.
Entering back into Santa Fe, we pass a green door from behind which we hear children's voices. I'm told this is where three of the students at Luz y Vida live... along with thirty-some other kids, and their families. It's a squatter invasion. In this neighborhood of abandoned buildings, getting routed from one to another is part of life, it seems.
As we continue walking, I recognize the park, and then we're at El Otro Camino again. We regroup inside, talk a bit about who saw children where, and when we'll go out again. Next time, it will be with hot chocolate and bread, to introduce ourselves. Next time will be Thursday (tomorrow) afternoon.
After praying together in the "upper room" (office), six of us head out for a walk from this, our drop-in center in Barrio Santa Fe, a run-down and slightly rough area of Bogota. Walking down streets lined with motorbikes, taxis, trash, and dogs we get further away from areas I've been and enter the section called La Favorita. The streets get wider, dirtier. The graffiti is more prolific; some of it is beautiful. Catholic churches tower every few blocks; men stand or lie among the trash piles. A dog stares; a worndown woman hauls a sack full of whatever she has found. Smoke rises into the dusty afternoon light. I wish I had my camera; know I can't because it's not safe.
From La Favorita, we regroup at a plaza, pray, continue walking. This street consists of blanket shops. (In Bogota all the shops of the same nature are grouped together. I live near the 'funeral street' -- purely marble engravers and florists.) Walking up the street, we pass a side road full of police. This is called the Bronx. I'm distracted by the commotion and trying to figure out what happened. Carlos hears someone advertising marijuana. Apparently Andy looks past all that and sees a lot of kids on that long, dark stretch of the city. We'll pray for entrance to the Bronx to get to know the kids and families there.
Next we cross a large plaza, and a homeless man starts talking to us in New York City English. He's lying on the grass enjoying the sun; I answer his greeting as we pass. Waiting at the corner to cross the next street, he's behind us. Andy talks to him for a few minutes. His name is Joaquin. He lived in NYC for many years; now he's back in Colombia.
After the Bronx and our chat with Joaquin, we're halfway done with our loop. Now we head into the Zona de Tolerancia. The first street is lined with transvestite brothels. Two streets later we pass more brothels; these are actually women, I'm told. We don't see any children, thankfully, but Carlos assures me there are kids living in the buildings in this area.
Entering back into Santa Fe, we pass a green door from behind which we hear children's voices. I'm told this is where three of the students at Luz y Vida live... along with thirty-some other kids, and their families. It's a squatter invasion. In this neighborhood of abandoned buildings, getting routed from one to another is part of life, it seems.
As we continue walking, I recognize the park, and then we're at El Otro Camino again. We regroup inside, talk a bit about who saw children where, and when we'll go out again. Next time, it will be with hot chocolate and bread, to introduce ourselves. Next time will be Thursday (tomorrow) afternoon.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
la ruta y el parque (the school bus and the park)
One of my favorite daily sights is the dog walkers. Every morning, going up on the Avenida Circumvalar (which circles (circumvents?) the eastern part of the city, up on the edge of the mountain), we pass through a nice area of apartment buildings and private parks and such, and there are usually a few folks along the way who are out walking armfuls of dogs.
This week in the park where the school is I saw a small, scruffy dog in a dingy dress playing with a kickball. It put its front paws on the ball and walked backwards, moving in circles with the red rubber ball. I imagined it to be the practice time of a washed-up circus act, no one but me paying any attention, let alone pesos.
Friday afternoon the kids had P.E. class, so I went outside with them and Profe Lucas to the ball court. At first we had the whole court to ourselves, which is rare in that park, but soon a group came up to use half of it. This group was a little different than normal, though. Instead of the elementary kids in their matching uniforms or occasional teenagers in street clothes, this time about fifteen women all dressed very modestly in dark gray and many wearing large cross necklaces had come out to play basketball. That’s right: nuns! As I mused over the monastic life and their choice of exercise, one of our students strayed onto their side of the court with the ball, almost getting run over by the enthusiastic b-ballers. Luke yelled, “Cuidado con las monjas!” (Careful with the nuns!), to which he and I both died laughing. I mean, really, how often do you get to use that phrase?
Every afternoon on the ruta taking the kids home, we play “I spy.” Yo veo algo… verde! And then begins the guessing (and my asking kids to not shout). Today we played until we got tired, then Ingrid suggested the game where you search for the letters of the alphabet, in order, on signs that you pass along the road. Thank the Lord, going through that game twice lasted until we dropped them off. Today was way better than yesterday’s ride, during which they wouldn’t stay seated and insisted on yelling most of the way – at each other, at us, out the window at the president’s palace “Hola, Presidente Uribe!” (I actually encouraged that one; and had to correct one kid when he first shouted, “Hola, Presidente Chávez!” Wrong country, friend.) They continued shouting, and got louder the closer we got to their barrio, which is called “PARAÍSO ALTO! PARAÍSO ALTO! PARAÍSO ALTO!”
Somehow, most of the way 6 or 7-year-old E. slept on my lap, in spite of his friends’ attempts to wake him with shouting. Before zonking out in my arms, he babbled on about the cars and motos and policías we passed along the way. Most of the time I couldn’t hear or understand him, but once I caught the word cárcel: jail. I looked down at him and asked what he was talking about. “¿Cierto que a los marijuaneros se los van a llevar a la cárcel?” (Isn’t it true that the potheads are going to be taken to jail?) I agreed, we talked about it a bit, and I managed to keep my laughter in until later when I told Ingrid about his conversation.
This week in the park where the school is I saw a small, scruffy dog in a dingy dress playing with a kickball. It put its front paws on the ball and walked backwards, moving in circles with the red rubber ball. I imagined it to be the practice time of a washed-up circus act, no one but me paying any attention, let alone pesos.
Friday afternoon the kids had P.E. class, so I went outside with them and Profe Lucas to the ball court. At first we had the whole court to ourselves, which is rare in that park, but soon a group came up to use half of it. This group was a little different than normal, though. Instead of the elementary kids in their matching uniforms or occasional teenagers in street clothes, this time about fifteen women all dressed very modestly in dark gray and many wearing large cross necklaces had come out to play basketball. That’s right: nuns! As I mused over the monastic life and their choice of exercise, one of our students strayed onto their side of the court with the ball, almost getting run over by the enthusiastic b-ballers. Luke yelled, “Cuidado con las monjas!” (Careful with the nuns!), to which he and I both died laughing. I mean, really, how often do you get to use that phrase?
Every afternoon on the ruta taking the kids home, we play “I spy.” Yo veo algo… verde! And then begins the guessing (and my asking kids to not shout). Today we played until we got tired, then Ingrid suggested the game where you search for the letters of the alphabet, in order, on signs that you pass along the road. Thank the Lord, going through that game twice lasted until we dropped them off. Today was way better than yesterday’s ride, during which they wouldn’t stay seated and insisted on yelling most of the way – at each other, at us, out the window at the president’s palace “Hola, Presidente Uribe!” (I actually encouraged that one; and had to correct one kid when he first shouted, “Hola, Presidente Chávez!” Wrong country, friend.) They continued shouting, and got louder the closer we got to their barrio, which is called “PARAÍSO ALTO! PARAÍSO ALTO! PARAÍSO ALTO!”
Somehow, most of the way 6 or 7-year-old E. slept on my lap, in spite of his friends’ attempts to wake him with shouting. Before zonking out in my arms, he babbled on about the cars and motos and policías we passed along the way. Most of the time I couldn’t hear or understand him, but once I caught the word cárcel: jail. I looked down at him and asked what he was talking about. “¿Cierto que a los marijuaneros se los van a llevar a la cárcel?” (Isn’t it true that the potheads are going to be taken to jail?) I agreed, we talked about it a bit, and I managed to keep my laughter in until later when I told Ingrid about his conversation.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Profe!
I'm tired! I was sick all weekend with a fever, so I spent a lot of time in bed (although probably not as much as I should have... I already had plans to visit some friends' house, so we went anyways!). Thankfully this morning I awoke without any trace of fever, so I was able to get up and go work!
Yesterday, like every Monday, was team meeting day, so all the people working here with Formando Vidas got together from 9:30-1:00ish. By the time we got back at 2:00, I was so exhausted I decided I wanted to sleep more than I wanted to eat...And I slept through the thunderstorm that brought with it a pile of sleet! I thought I heard something hitting the window, but just ignored it. Anyways, when I finally got out of bed a couple hours later to heat up some leftover rice and lentils, I was surprised to see white all over the ground in the patio!
Today I started my week at Escuela Luz y Vida (Light and Life School). It went well. There wasn't any force feeding of children; these all eat well: I think they understand the value of food a little more than the wee ones do. The kids are very sweet and very difficult. I'm assisting a teacher in a class of five boys, all of whom are basically special needs kids. Whew! (or as we say here: uysh!)
How many times during one day can you possibly hear "PROFE!" yelled? And supposedly be able to distinguish which of the teachers is being summoned? And then have some sort of response to whatever the situation is, whether it be a disagreement, a need for help with school work, permission to go to the bathroom, to be pushed on the swings, or just some attention?
This morning, when we arrived with the ruta (bus route to pick up and drop off kids), the first thing we did was go play on the playground while waiting for the others to arrive (we were a bit early). While there, a street man walked through, searching the trashcans. Here, many of the foods and condiments that we have in jars in the States come in bags (jam, ketchup, milk). It broke my heart to watch him squeezing a yogurt bag for any last drop that might have remained inside.
This afternoon, because of rain, it took longer than usual for the ruta to drop everyone off and arrive back at the office, where I stay. We left around 2:40 and didn't get here until 5:00, at which time I went straight to the grocery store. I wasn't until probably an hour later, when the Tuesday pastry lady rang the bell to sell us delicious pastelillos filled with chicken, that I reached in my pocket and found: Jose's keys. He's one of the boys in the class I helped with today, and I kept his keys for him when they fell out of his pocket while playing. I hope he had somewhere to go until his Mom got home and let him in. Que pena...
Yesterday, like every Monday, was team meeting day, so all the people working here with Formando Vidas got together from 9:30-1:00ish. By the time we got back at 2:00, I was so exhausted I decided I wanted to sleep more than I wanted to eat...And I slept through the thunderstorm that brought with it a pile of sleet! I thought I heard something hitting the window, but just ignored it. Anyways, when I finally got out of bed a couple hours later to heat up some leftover rice and lentils, I was surprised to see white all over the ground in the patio!
Today I started my week at Escuela Luz y Vida (Light and Life School). It went well. There wasn't any force feeding of children; these all eat well: I think they understand the value of food a little more than the wee ones do. The kids are very sweet and very difficult. I'm assisting a teacher in a class of five boys, all of whom are basically special needs kids. Whew! (or as we say here: uysh!)
How many times during one day can you possibly hear "PROFE!" yelled? And supposedly be able to distinguish which of the teachers is being summoned? And then have some sort of response to whatever the situation is, whether it be a disagreement, a need for help with school work, permission to go to the bathroom, to be pushed on the swings, or just some attention?
This morning, when we arrived with the ruta (bus route to pick up and drop off kids), the first thing we did was go play on the playground while waiting for the others to arrive (we were a bit early). While there, a street man walked through, searching the trashcans. Here, many of the foods and condiments that we have in jars in the States come in bags (jam, ketchup, milk). It broke my heart to watch him squeezing a yogurt bag for any last drop that might have remained inside.
This afternoon, because of rain, it took longer than usual for the ruta to drop everyone off and arrive back at the office, where I stay. We left around 2:40 and didn't get here until 5:00, at which time I went straight to the grocery store. I wasn't until probably an hour later, when the Tuesday pastry lady rang the bell to sell us delicious pastelillos filled with chicken, that I reached in my pocket and found: Jose's keys. He's one of the boys in the class I helped with today, and I kept his keys for him when they fell out of his pocket while playing. I hope he had somewhere to go until his Mom got home and let him in. Que pena...
Thursday, February 12, 2009
what I've been doing this week
Tuesday through Friday:
Wake up at 6:00, shower?, dress, eat, the bus is here to pick us up already? -- run!, look out the window as the city passes by – from the north to the city center, drop off workers at the school, arrive in the Santa Fe neighborhood, get off the bus at the drop in center, help make breakfast, drink coffee, kids arrive!, greetings, prayer, serve breakfast, stay in your seat!, eat your food!, eat it all!, sing, lessons, a million visits to the bathroom with kids, crowd control, helping with lessons, snack, crowd control, another lesson or maybe game time, crowd control crowd control crowd control, let’s go to the park!, pushing kids on the swing, crowd control, helping kids across the monkey bars, don’t hit each other!, don’t play with trash!, stay on the blacktop!, curing hurts, it’s so-and-so’s turn on the swing!, go down the slide, not up!, time for lunch (finally)!, wash up, prayer, serve food, eat food, force feed small children, make sure everyone eats everything, lesson or play time, games, is it time to go yet? no?, bathroom visits, playtime, it’s so-and-so’s turn with this!, share the blocks!, time to go? okay, clean up!, does everyone have everything?, get on the bus with kids, go south to drop of some kids, ride about an hour back across the city, finally we’re back at the house!!, eat, hang out, play and talk, eat, hang out, shower?, talk, read, SLEEP.
Wake up at 6:00, shower?, dress, eat, the bus is here to pick us up already? -- run!, look out the window as the city passes by – from the north to the city center, drop off workers at the school, arrive in the Santa Fe neighborhood, get off the bus at the drop in center, help make breakfast, drink coffee, kids arrive!, greetings, prayer, serve breakfast, stay in your seat!, eat your food!, eat it all!, sing, lessons, a million visits to the bathroom with kids, crowd control, helping with lessons, snack, crowd control, another lesson or maybe game time, crowd control crowd control crowd control, let’s go to the park!, pushing kids on the swing, crowd control, helping kids across the monkey bars, don’t hit each other!, don’t play with trash!, stay on the blacktop!, curing hurts, it’s so-and-so’s turn on the swing!, go down the slide, not up!, time for lunch (finally)!, wash up, prayer, serve food, eat food, force feed small children, make sure everyone eats everything, lesson or play time, games, is it time to go yet? no?, bathroom visits, playtime, it’s so-and-so’s turn with this!, share the blocks!, time to go? okay, clean up!, does everyone have everything?, get on the bus with kids, go south to drop of some kids, ride about an hour back across the city, finally we’re back at the house!!, eat, hang out, play and talk, eat, hang out, shower?, talk, read, SLEEP.
from Feb. 5th
“Be ready at 7:00 a.m. Andy will come pick you up then.” So we were told yesterday, so Ingrid, my Canadian roommate and I were up a bit before 6:00 getting ourselves together. Finally, sometime after 8:00 the busload from the farm (just outside of the city, where several staff and children live in 3 different houses) arrived, and then we went to pick up Andy and his wife.
Plans change.
Like Tuesday when I arrived at the airport, I was a little early and my luggage must’ve been some of the first unloaded, so I was through security very quickly… to wait 45 minutes until some folks arrived to collect me. I had called after 30 minutes to make sure they hadn’t forgotten, and was told that one person was coming for me, but it ended up being 5, none of whom were the one mentioned originally!
From the airport I went straight to El Otro Camino (the Other Way), a day center open 20-hours per week. There, we ate lunch and then waited while Andy (who is the director there) had conferences with parents. We left and went by to pick up some donations from a church (three mattresses, three chairs, an enormous desk, some shoes) then finally, around 3:00 p.m. that day I made it back to the house/office where I’m staying for this first month or so.
Ingrid arrived two days before me from Quito, Ecuador. She’s from Alberta, but had been there at a language school for a month (like what I did in Cusco, Peru). We get along very well. Living in this house right now are the two of us, Grecia from Dominican Republic, and Colombians Sonia and Diana (Sonia’s teenage “daughter”). Other ministry folks stay here sometimes, as do short-term groups.
Today (Thursday), when we finally left the house, Ingrid went to the school (Luz y Vida) and I went to El Otro Camino. My first job? Cleaning up the cat’s two puddles of diarrhea from the floor. Andy said it would help develop a servant’s heart in me. Thanks, Andy.
After that, some others arrived and we began to organize and clean the classrooms, in preparation for the children’s return next week (they’ve been closed down due to the holidays). After an hour or so, six of us went out for a walk through the neighborhood to pray for the people living there and for opportunities to get to know them, especially the children. Just a few blocks from the day center we entered into the “tolerance zone” where the police basically ignore the prevalent illegal activities and brothels. We would like children from this neighborhood to participate at Otro Camino in addition to the kids who are brought from different parts of the city.
What else? I’ve walked a lot but haven’t yet ventured on the bus system, which seems chaotic but I’m eager to attempt (with clear guidance on which one to take and where to get off). Still getting to know names and faces of the staff workers. Still waiting to get the internet password (which no one remembers, or won’t work anymore, or something like this) so that I can access my email from the house. I ate some good chicken today, and I’ve had some plantain (both sweet and green), so I’m happy!
Plans change.
Like Tuesday when I arrived at the airport, I was a little early and my luggage must’ve been some of the first unloaded, so I was through security very quickly… to wait 45 minutes until some folks arrived to collect me. I had called after 30 minutes to make sure they hadn’t forgotten, and was told that one person was coming for me, but it ended up being 5, none of whom were the one mentioned originally!
From the airport I went straight to El Otro Camino (the Other Way), a day center open 20-hours per week. There, we ate lunch and then waited while Andy (who is the director there) had conferences with parents. We left and went by to pick up some donations from a church (three mattresses, three chairs, an enormous desk, some shoes) then finally, around 3:00 p.m. that day I made it back to the house/office where I’m staying for this first month or so.
Ingrid arrived two days before me from Quito, Ecuador. She’s from Alberta, but had been there at a language school for a month (like what I did in Cusco, Peru). We get along very well. Living in this house right now are the two of us, Grecia from Dominican Republic, and Colombians Sonia and Diana (Sonia’s teenage “daughter”). Other ministry folks stay here sometimes, as do short-term groups.
Today (Thursday), when we finally left the house, Ingrid went to the school (Luz y Vida) and I went to El Otro Camino. My first job? Cleaning up the cat’s two puddles of diarrhea from the floor. Andy said it would help develop a servant’s heart in me. Thanks, Andy.
After that, some others arrived and we began to organize and clean the classrooms, in preparation for the children’s return next week (they’ve been closed down due to the holidays). After an hour or so, six of us went out for a walk through the neighborhood to pray for the people living there and for opportunities to get to know them, especially the children. Just a few blocks from the day center we entered into the “tolerance zone” where the police basically ignore the prevalent illegal activities and brothels. We would like children from this neighborhood to participate at Otro Camino in addition to the kids who are brought from different parts of the city.
What else? I’ve walked a lot but haven’t yet ventured on the bus system, which seems chaotic but I’m eager to attempt (with clear guidance on which one to take and where to get off). Still getting to know names and faces of the staff workers. Still waiting to get the internet password (which no one remembers, or won’t work anymore, or something like this) so that I can access my email from the house. I ate some good chicken today, and I’ve had some plantain (both sweet and green), so I’m happy!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
"Lord willin' and the creek don't rise..."
I like the Arab/Muslim custom of finishing off sentences that propose future actions with the phrase "insha'allah." If Allah wills it. It's such a great tribute to the fact that we have no control over our actions in any moment other than the one in which we currently find ourselves. I wish that the habit of saying, "Lord willing" were more common in our society, so I didn't feel like such a country bumpkin or self-righteous prig when I really want to emphasize my lack of authority.
Of course, most of the time I glibly make my plans and assume that everything and everyone involved will fall in line.
We are not going to Ocracoke Island, due to uncontrollable circumstances, namely, births and deaths. Big bummer for all of us... it nearly ruined my morning.
[Look here, you people who say, "Today or tomorrow we are going to a certain town and will stay there a year. We will do business there and make a profit." How do you know what will happen tomorrow? For your life is like the morning fog -- it's here a little while, then it's gone. What you ought to say is, "If the Lord wants us to , we will live and do this or that." James 4:13-15]
If the Lord wants me to, I will go to Asheville later this week and then to Greensboro to say goodbye. And if not, maybe holding a looser grip on plans and a more realistic view of my authority will help my recovery time and attitude.
Then I will pack my bags, hang out with family, and move to Bogota.
...Lord willing and the creek don't rise.
Of course, most of the time I glibly make my plans and assume that everything and everyone involved will fall in line.
We are not going to Ocracoke Island, due to uncontrollable circumstances, namely, births and deaths. Big bummer for all of us... it nearly ruined my morning.
[Look here, you people who say, "Today or tomorrow we are going to a certain town and will stay there a year. We will do business there and make a profit." How do you know what will happen tomorrow? For your life is like the morning fog -- it's here a little while, then it's gone. What you ought to say is, "If the Lord wants us to , we will live and do this or that." James 4:13-15]
If the Lord wants me to, I will go to Asheville later this week and then to Greensboro to say goodbye. And if not, maybe holding a looser grip on plans and a more realistic view of my authority will help my recovery time and attitude.
Then I will pack my bags, hang out with family, and move to Bogota.
...Lord willing and the creek don't rise.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
I ain't right in the head!
This week I began making plans for last travels around the state to visit friends, including a trip to magical Ocracoke Island this Sunday/Monday, a couple of days in Asheville with M&M (beach and mountains within one week!), then a final (for real this time) trip to Greensboro and a last visit to my church there. Add in lunch with friends and dinner with a cousin, and I don't have much time left at all! yipes!
After a few days of moping about not having a schedule, about being bored, about feeling aimless, I looked at the calendar and thought about all I'll be going and doing between now and February 2 and got a little anxious about how quickly this time is passing!
Transition is difficult.
But... can't I ever just BE? And be okay with that? Be content in whatever situation I find myself?
ontology = being
After a few days of moping about not having a schedule, about being bored, about feeling aimless, I looked at the calendar and thought about all I'll be going and doing between now and February 2 and got a little anxious about how quickly this time is passing!
Transition is difficult.
But... can't I ever just BE? And be okay with that? Be content in whatever situation I find myself?
ontology = being
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Lull
I don't quite know what to do with myself. There are times each day when I want somewhere to go, some task to do, something scheduled.
I have 28 days until I leave for Bogota.
I have a lot to read.
I have a couple artsy and craftsy projects to finish.
I have some appointments.
I have some things to check off of a list.
I am not used to having nothing to do.
I am ready for motion, but it seems farther away than it really is.
If this were merely a pause between the known, the routine, I would enjoy it. I can picture a hammock on an island, a month break from work, a dream! But I'm not a solitary creature; I need relationships to go along with all the reading.
I have 28 days until I leave for Bogota.
I have a lot to read.
I have a couple artsy and craftsy projects to finish.
I have some appointments.
I have some things to check off of a list.
I am not used to having nothing to do.
I am ready for motion, but it seems farther away than it really is.
If this were merely a pause between the known, the routine, I would enjoy it. I can picture a hammock on an island, a month break from work, a dream! But I'm not a solitary creature; I need relationships to go along with all the reading.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Resolved:
Well, it's January 2009. My resolution experiment worked, as this blog still exists and is used from time to time. I've even heard that I have a few loyal readers, surprisingly enough. (Hey, Mike and Terri!)
And, now it is once again that time when I'm supposed to set goals for the year. However, I don't want to set a goal I won't keep, so I'll aim low:
1. Finish knitting these mittens
2. Move out of my parents' house
3. Speak more Spanish
Hmm... I predict I'll accomplish these goals within a month.
Oh well, here are some I know I can't keep consistently:
4. See others as God's beloved and treat them as such.
5. Take action against poverty
6. Gain more of an understanding of God's duality: complete love and complete authority
...and many more, but I don't want all of my shortcomings to be so obvious! ;)
And, now it is once again that time when I'm supposed to set goals for the year. However, I don't want to set a goal I won't keep, so I'll aim low:
1. Finish knitting these mittens
2. Move out of my parents' house
3. Speak more Spanish
Hmm... I predict I'll accomplish these goals within a month.
Oh well, here are some I know I can't keep consistently:
4. See others as God's beloved and treat them as such.
5. Take action against poverty
6. Gain more of an understanding of God's duality: complete love and complete authority
...and many more, but I don't want all of my shortcomings to be so obvious! ;)
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