Yesterday, our summer internship program (DSO) had dinner with another Christian summer internship program. It was really great to have our two groups together to be able to talk and share experiences of serving and working in the city of Detroit. We met in Southwest Detroit which has a lot of Latinos living there. A couple of children from the neighborhood joined us for dinner. They were so cute, and they were a lot of fun to talk to. It was also great to have some of our interns from Mexico and Costa Rica talk to them in Spanish and see all their faces light up while the rest of us were grasping here and there for words we might be able to understand.
After dinner, we decided to head to an empty lot/ grass field to play some soccer. There were already some boys playing with cones set up as boundaries and goals. There we were our group and a few of the other interns playing with all of these Latino children. Most of us weren't really dressed for soccer as I was wearing a skirt and flip flops, but we made it work. As the sun was going down and we were playing in this dried out field with a pile of glass in the corner, I felt like I was in the classic "third world mission trip" experience of playing soccer with the locals. It was a surreal moment. I wasn't familiar with the area of town or the people we were playing with, but it didn't really matter. Everyone was just happy to be playing, and we were having fun. The little kids were getting attention, and it was just a break from the chaos of the week just to enjoy the goodness of fellowship. We will probably never see them again, but it was worth it. Our life here is about making the little things count and seeing the Lord bless it.
By the way, I played goalie, and everyone said I did a good job (I'm not really a soccer player). It was crazy trying to guard the goal (we played boys vs girls and Alejandro) with all these little kids surrounding me because they were trying to "help" me. I was trying not to step on them or have them nailed in the head with a flying ball. Oh the adventures of my life!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
My Black Friend
I don't think anybody knows this, but growing up I really wanted a black friend. I remember dreaming about what it would be like if an African-American family moved into our little town. I just dreamed about a little black girl my age who I could play with. I don't know why I wanted a black girl to be my friend, but I just did.
It has been funny to look back on my life this year to see the little things that have happened in my life that bring a bit of sense to me being in Detroit. It's definitely not a random journey. God has been preparing me and my family for years... but that's another story- let's get back to my friend, Tanesha.
Last night, I felt like such a little girl sitting on the front porch of my house comparing my skin tones with Tanesha. She was talking about how dark her skin was getting from the sun, so naturally I started showing off my sun tan as well. She said I wasn't very dark, so I showed her the difference between my legs and arms. Then we started comparing our arms to each other. It was so funny especially when Priscilla came to the door and said "Tanesha won!"
My friendship with Tanesha has been completely unexpected. I first met her in October at the Bezalel Project. She was a volunteer helper who was very passive and quiet. I wasn't sure how well I was going to work with her because she was so quiet. I remember one time having her help me back up the van which I backed into a pole because she hadn't yelled at me to stop. Needless to say, I was a little irritated. I had to give her a chance though to really get to know her. Eventually I would break through, right?
I decided it would be good to invite her over to my house and hangout. I needed to build friendships in Detroit, and I wanted to bring her into the life we shared together in community. I invited her over for dinner at the Propson's after we had Bezalel. As we were sitting around the table sharing a meal together, Tanesha said this was her FIRST sit down meal she had ever had. We were in shock. Even more shocked because Tanesha came from a good family living with her mom and dad, went to a good private school, and completed college (more than I can say. Just wait until next year, Mom.) So that became our rhythm, every once in a while Tanesha would come over for dinner, help with dishes, hang out or watch a movie afterward. Slowly she got to know the Propson family, and the kids would run to the door when she would arrive with Mack yelling "Miss Esha, Miss Esha!" She would pick up one of the kids or sit on the couch while they all piled on top of her as she read a book to them. She got very used to the Propson clan and our dinner conversations from deep philosophical issues to Dorothy's future adventures to "Issac time to go potty."
In November when my roommate, Ana, moved back to Costa Rica, I had no one to run the girl's high school youth group with. It was a very difficult time for me because I was the only young single woman living with our community here in Detroit. I felt very lonely, and I had a lot of responsibilities now resting on my shoulders. To make matters worse, it became darker earlier so I had to constantly rely on the guys to walk me home even if it was a block or two as early as 5 PM. My pride and ego didn't like that much. I was frustrated that I had to rely on so many people, and I was frustrated at the sin within the city. It was a hard and challenging time, but God really provided. He used it for His glory in ways that I would have imagined- like transforming Tanesha's life.
I had to find somebody to help lead the youth group with me. They needed to be responsible and trustworthy. Basically I needed somebody to testify for me if somebody tried to sue me, and hopefully somebody who would be able to help disciple my youth group girls. Tanesha made the most sense since she had been around helping with both Bezalel and youth group. My first meeting I did without Ana went really well, but it was kind of funny. I had two older girls who went to Cornerstone school (one of the best schools in Detroit) and two younger girls who were from the hood. God worked amazingly though, and we were able to talk about deeper things relating to faith. Actually the youth groups after Ana left went amazingly well. Sometimes God likes to use less so that He can work more.
During the year, I didn't have many women to be friends with in Detroit and the crazy thing is either did Tanesha. Something that I have found to be a large problem in Detroit is that people don't have friends. They have people who might have their back in a fight, but they really aren't their friends. They have people they can hangout with, but no one they can really talk to. Tanesha had been holding things in for so long that she didn't even really know how to share with me. Slowly she began to open up more and more, and we now have a beautiful friendship.
One of the biggest Glory to God stories from my friendship with Tanesha is how He used me to be a vessel to transform not only her life, but putting her in a position to impact hundreds throughout the city of Detroit. One Saturday afternoon, Tanesha texted me to see what I was doing which she had never done before. I told her that it was Mackery's birthday, and I invited her to come. At the birthday party, she met Paul Propson who runs Covenant Community Clinics. By the end of the conversation, Tanesha got his business card, and an opportunity to apply for an open position at the clinic. A few weeks later, Tanesha had a paid internship at the clinic.
Near the end of the internship, Tanesha was helping setup for an initiative called the EACH mobile medical and dental clinics. EACH (Everyone A Chance to Hear) was a city wide initiative to share the message of Jesus Christ for 40 days after Easter with all of Metro Detroit. Different churches and ministries took part in the initiative in different ways. During the 40 days, the mobile clinics moved around the city serving the physical and spiritual needs of those who couldn't afford medical or dental care.
Tanesha was there each of these days helping and serving at the clinics and before long she was in charge of all the medical teams. She was the one who would lead the meetings and tell people what they needed to do. I was shocked to learn that she was in charge of everything and telling people what to do because she used to be so shy. The best part is that she was serving with EACH voluntarily. The medical clinics aren't running anymore, but in the fall, Tanesha has a paid position running the medical teams at the mobile clinics. I am happy to see how God has provided for Tanesha as she has faithfully served Him.
I am so blessed to have Tanesha as a friend. Even more so, I am blessed to have her as sister. It's fun to sometimes confuse the Bezalel kids when we tell them that we are sisters. It's really funny because besides the fact that she's black-she's also a foot shorter and very thin. We look basically the same! I know that this friendship is going to continue to blossom. It's been great to see Tanesha be more connected with other women who can support her as well. God has so much planned for her. I can't wait to see where God brings her in life.
Tanesha, I love you a lot!
It has been funny to look back on my life this year to see the little things that have happened in my life that bring a bit of sense to me being in Detroit. It's definitely not a random journey. God has been preparing me and my family for years... but that's another story- let's get back to my friend, Tanesha.
Last night, I felt like such a little girl sitting on the front porch of my house comparing my skin tones with Tanesha. She was talking about how dark her skin was getting from the sun, so naturally I started showing off my sun tan as well. She said I wasn't very dark, so I showed her the difference between my legs and arms. Then we started comparing our arms to each other. It was so funny especially when Priscilla came to the door and said "Tanesha won!"
My friendship with Tanesha has been completely unexpected. I first met her in October at the Bezalel Project. She was a volunteer helper who was very passive and quiet. I wasn't sure how well I was going to work with her because she was so quiet. I remember one time having her help me back up the van which I backed into a pole because she hadn't yelled at me to stop. Needless to say, I was a little irritated. I had to give her a chance though to really get to know her. Eventually I would break through, right?
I decided it would be good to invite her over to my house and hangout. I needed to build friendships in Detroit, and I wanted to bring her into the life we shared together in community. I invited her over for dinner at the Propson's after we had Bezalel. As we were sitting around the table sharing a meal together, Tanesha said this was her FIRST sit down meal she had ever had. We were in shock. Even more shocked because Tanesha came from a good family living with her mom and dad, went to a good private school, and completed college (more than I can say. Just wait until next year, Mom.) So that became our rhythm, every once in a while Tanesha would come over for dinner, help with dishes, hang out or watch a movie afterward. Slowly she got to know the Propson family, and the kids would run to the door when she would arrive with Mack yelling "Miss Esha, Miss Esha!" She would pick up one of the kids or sit on the couch while they all piled on top of her as she read a book to them. She got very used to the Propson clan and our dinner conversations from deep philosophical issues to Dorothy's future adventures to "Issac time to go potty."
In November when my roommate, Ana, moved back to Costa Rica, I had no one to run the girl's high school youth group with. It was a very difficult time for me because I was the only young single woman living with our community here in Detroit. I felt very lonely, and I had a lot of responsibilities now resting on my shoulders. To make matters worse, it became darker earlier so I had to constantly rely on the guys to walk me home even if it was a block or two as early as 5 PM. My pride and ego didn't like that much. I was frustrated that I had to rely on so many people, and I was frustrated at the sin within the city. It was a hard and challenging time, but God really provided. He used it for His glory in ways that I would have imagined- like transforming Tanesha's life.
I had to find somebody to help lead the youth group with me. They needed to be responsible and trustworthy. Basically I needed somebody to testify for me if somebody tried to sue me, and hopefully somebody who would be able to help disciple my youth group girls. Tanesha made the most sense since she had been around helping with both Bezalel and youth group. My first meeting I did without Ana went really well, but it was kind of funny. I had two older girls who went to Cornerstone school (one of the best schools in Detroit) and two younger girls who were from the hood. God worked amazingly though, and we were able to talk about deeper things relating to faith. Actually the youth groups after Ana left went amazingly well. Sometimes God likes to use less so that He can work more.
During the year, I didn't have many women to be friends with in Detroit and the crazy thing is either did Tanesha. Something that I have found to be a large problem in Detroit is that people don't have friends. They have people who might have their back in a fight, but they really aren't their friends. They have people they can hangout with, but no one they can really talk to. Tanesha had been holding things in for so long that she didn't even really know how to share with me. Slowly she began to open up more and more, and we now have a beautiful friendship.
One of the biggest Glory to God stories from my friendship with Tanesha is how He used me to be a vessel to transform not only her life, but putting her in a position to impact hundreds throughout the city of Detroit. One Saturday afternoon, Tanesha texted me to see what I was doing which she had never done before. I told her that it was Mackery's birthday, and I invited her to come. At the birthday party, she met Paul Propson who runs Covenant Community Clinics. By the end of the conversation, Tanesha got his business card, and an opportunity to apply for an open position at the clinic. A few weeks later, Tanesha had a paid internship at the clinic.
Near the end of the internship, Tanesha was helping setup for an initiative called the EACH mobile medical and dental clinics. EACH (Everyone A Chance to Hear) was a city wide initiative to share the message of Jesus Christ for 40 days after Easter with all of Metro Detroit. Different churches and ministries took part in the initiative in different ways. During the 40 days, the mobile clinics moved around the city serving the physical and spiritual needs of those who couldn't afford medical or dental care.
Tanesha was there each of these days helping and serving at the clinics and before long she was in charge of all the medical teams. She was the one who would lead the meetings and tell people what they needed to do. I was shocked to learn that she was in charge of everything and telling people what to do because she used to be so shy. The best part is that she was serving with EACH voluntarily. The medical clinics aren't running anymore, but in the fall, Tanesha has a paid position running the medical teams at the mobile clinics. I am happy to see how God has provided for Tanesha as she has faithfully served Him.
I am so blessed to have Tanesha as a friend. Even more so, I am blessed to have her as sister. It's fun to sometimes confuse the Bezalel kids when we tell them that we are sisters. It's really funny because besides the fact that she's black-she's also a foot shorter and very thin. We look basically the same! I know that this friendship is going to continue to blossom. It's been great to see Tanesha be more connected with other women who can support her as well. God has so much planned for her. I can't wait to see where God brings her in life.
Tanesha, I love you a lot!
Monday, April 11, 2011
hangin in the hood
I am continually amazed and blown away by my ability to hang in the hood. Today, I had somebody tell me that I am no longer a small town girl. I am, in the fact of some of my innocence and the way I grew up, but I'm not at the same time because I have experienced too much.
There have been different tines this past month when I have dealt with a situation that left me baffled. At a high school retreat recently, I stood up to one of our Detroit guys who I don't know well and is rough around the edges and told him that he needed to get to his next session. He didn't want to listen to me, but then he did. I was loving and caring, but I also stood strong. He didn't need to listen to me. He could have told me off or punched me, but he didn't. He did what I told him to because he respected me.
Respect, some how, some way, I am starting to earn it. The kids are starting to respect me, and not only are they starting to respect me, but they also know that I love them. One of my youth group girls, she puts up a tough front, but she is really hurting on the inside. God has given me such a love for her. Even when she puts up a fight with me, we both know I will win not because I'm right and she's wrong, but because she respects me and she knows that I love her no matter what she does. It's hard to explain how this really works. The balance of will powers and where love and respect fall into place, but man it's essential. You need both love and respect to make it in this kind of ministry.
I am also starting to belong (I don't even know if I can use that word in this context) in the Freedom housing projects. People are starting to recognize me, and it's ok that I am there. I have always felt confident and unafraid there (which is a complete grace from God) but now I am experiencing a new freedom of confidence. People are starting to recognize me both people I know and those that I don't. A lot of people still stare and wonder why I am there, but for a few of them I'm slowly becoming a face in which they feel comfortable/alright with. I don't fit in or belong in any way shape or form in the Freedoms. Almost every time I go, I wonder what I am doing there. I have never felt so out of place in my life, yet I hold my head up high and do my job for the kids. I am their for the youth and that is my primary focus. I think people are starting to see that too.
Anyways, the last couple of weeks, I have been acknowledged by this guy who has sisters who have been apart of our program. He has a really messed up life, and I don't know where his life is even going. For so long, he would just completely ignore me even if I said "hi" to him. Then last week, he was walking home from school and he waved at me when I drove by. Today, I was walking in the Freedoms and he gave me a little head nod. I returned it with a half smile, grateful that I was finally being welcomed onto his territory. I don't wave or shout hello. It's unnecessary and often unhelpful. I've been mocked before in the Freedoms for being too cheerful, but that's when I see our kids stand up for what is right (and for me) even when it's hard.
I don't know how I have learned my street smarts or how to hang in the hood, but I'm learning by the grace of God. What's most incredible is that I am still me. I don't dress or speak like they do in the hood, yet I am still accepted. God has called me to be me just the way I am, and He is using me to share His love in the places I would least expect it by hangin in the hood.
There have been different tines this past month when I have dealt with a situation that left me baffled. At a high school retreat recently, I stood up to one of our Detroit guys who I don't know well and is rough around the edges and told him that he needed to get to his next session. He didn't want to listen to me, but then he did. I was loving and caring, but I also stood strong. He didn't need to listen to me. He could have told me off or punched me, but he didn't. He did what I told him to because he respected me.
Respect, some how, some way, I am starting to earn it. The kids are starting to respect me, and not only are they starting to respect me, but they also know that I love them. One of my youth group girls, she puts up a tough front, but she is really hurting on the inside. God has given me such a love for her. Even when she puts up a fight with me, we both know I will win not because I'm right and she's wrong, but because she respects me and she knows that I love her no matter what she does. It's hard to explain how this really works. The balance of will powers and where love and respect fall into place, but man it's essential. You need both love and respect to make it in this kind of ministry.
I am also starting to belong (I don't even know if I can use that word in this context) in the Freedom housing projects. People are starting to recognize me, and it's ok that I am there. I have always felt confident and unafraid there (which is a complete grace from God) but now I am experiencing a new freedom of confidence. People are starting to recognize me both people I know and those that I don't. A lot of people still stare and wonder why I am there, but for a few of them I'm slowly becoming a face in which they feel comfortable/alright with. I don't fit in or belong in any way shape or form in the Freedoms. Almost every time I go, I wonder what I am doing there. I have never felt so out of place in my life, yet I hold my head up high and do my job for the kids. I am their for the youth and that is my primary focus. I think people are starting to see that too.
Anyways, the last couple of weeks, I have been acknowledged by this guy who has sisters who have been apart of our program. He has a really messed up life, and I don't know where his life is even going. For so long, he would just completely ignore me even if I said "hi" to him. Then last week, he was walking home from school and he waved at me when I drove by. Today, I was walking in the Freedoms and he gave me a little head nod. I returned it with a half smile, grateful that I was finally being welcomed onto his territory. I don't wave or shout hello. It's unnecessary and often unhelpful. I've been mocked before in the Freedoms for being too cheerful, but that's when I see our kids stand up for what is right (and for me) even when it's hard.
I don't know how I have learned my street smarts or how to hang in the hood, but I'm learning by the grace of God. What's most incredible is that I am still me. I don't dress or speak like they do in the hood, yet I am still accepted. God has called me to be me just the way I am, and He is using me to share His love in the places I would least expect it by hangin in the hood.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
You don't have to read this- part 3
Today I learned that Linda's story continues on not just here in my blog or with the people at St. Al's but all around the country. I received a phone call from my grandmother today saying that in the Dubuque Telegraph which is in Iowa she read the story about Br. Al who found Linda. He actually was there with her when she died. He was looking out his window and didn't see her, so he went in search of her to find her barely breathing. He called the parish nurse (who has a parish nurse? I love it because there is need for one) who said to rub on her sternum. Finally the paramedics arrived and after an hour of working on her, they declared her dead. I am so grateful that Brother Al was with her. I am so grateful that she didn't die alone. I am so grateful that her death isn't in vain. I am so grateful that her story continues on. May many people's hearts be moved in compassion to yell "injustice" and pray for God's justice to reign here on earth.
(More from the article to come in the near future.)
(More from the article to come in the near future.)
Thursday, March 31, 2011
At the End of the Day
I sit down at 10:50 PM at my computer after a long day working in Detroit. I check facebook and start thinking about my day. Exhaustion slowly starts to sweep over me, yet I know I'm not quite ready for bed yet. As my day swirls in my mind, I know that I will be lighting a candle, listening to funky Christian music and taking sometime to think and journal. I love my late night candle, music, work times. Sometimes it's really lonely though. I am very aware of the fact that I am the only one here and I often think about Kayla, my missionary sister who has very similar late night times as I do on the other side of the world.
After checking facebook, I take out the poems that were written at Bezalel (our after school program) today. I tell myself that I am not going to do any work, but I just want to read over these poems quick. I am stricken by reality and emotion that they put into these poems. I have been hoping for a day in which REALITY would come out in their work. One of our kids really loves animals, and a death of one brings out anger and tears. Bullying is such a reality for most of youth, and they don't know what to do about it. Then you have the boy who wants to remain in his dream land because then he wouldn't have to cry and cry over the death of his brother, yet I can also tell that Jesus is working in his life when he writes about remaining with him forever more. We were preparing writings to be used for spoken word/slam poetry. The kids were so restless today as I was trying to teach them how to write slam poetry, but as soon as I started talking about Jesus being condemned to death- all eyes were on me. Then for some reason, I was given the grace to write my own slam poetry and perform it before them. This month we are preparing a modified stations of the cross represented through different art forms like slam poetry.
The people in this city are so hungry for truth. I would even dare to say in this world, but we will take one city at a time! On Tuesday, I led the AA meeting at the Capuchin Soup Kitchen. I was asked to do it 2 hours before it started. I had led Bible studies before there, but never an AA meeting. I decided to blend the two together. There was one time during the meeting when I was preaching a bit about Psalm 32, and I looked up to see everyone looking and listening to me. Those moments overwhelm and I think "blaha what am i doing!?" I led an AA meeting, and it went really well. I cannot even begin to take the credit for it. I'm not equipped to lead AA meetings, but I have said "yes" to the Lord and He is equipped to do whatever He wants to with me.
Part of my late night thoughts is extreme randomness as I process through my day. So one of the girls I work with isn't going to school right now because her mom doesn't have enough money to put gas in the car. She's NOT going to school because they can't afford to put gas in the car.
Life is so complicated here. I have been told to survive here long term I need to prepare myself as if I am living in a third world country. I can't even begin to list all the times I wondered if I truly was in a third world country. Sometimes my life goes in circles and I wonder if I am accomplishing anything. I went to the library twice yesterday to try to get a movie for youth group. The first time the movie section was randomly closed. The second time was a failure because I wasn't able to get the movie even though they said they had it online. I don't think it was an absolute failure though because I was able to talk with a guy from the Freedom Projects who I hadn't seen in a while. I think it was an anointed meeting which I was very grateful for.
So often on nights like tonight, I think about my life as a missionary. I chuckle that I am in America because I imagine myself listening to music, burning a candle, and journaling in some foreign land. Who knows what that foreign land might be, but for right now it's Detroit. Oh Detroit! I never would have imagined living in this place. It's funny- a week ago today, I was leaving a families house after a very intense time of prayer and driving through downtown Detroit with my windows open (definitely not warm enough) with a Scotsman. I would have never imagined that in my wildest dreams. And yet there I was on Jefferies looking at the skyscrapers passing by, feeling the breeze on my face, and experiencing the Lord's blessings of the life He has given me. It's not easy or always the most attractive, but it truly is a blessed life. As I blow out my candle and crawl into bed, I thank God for stepping into my life and leading me on the adventure of a life time!
After checking facebook, I take out the poems that were written at Bezalel (our after school program) today. I tell myself that I am not going to do any work, but I just want to read over these poems quick. I am stricken by reality and emotion that they put into these poems. I have been hoping for a day in which REALITY would come out in their work. One of our kids really loves animals, and a death of one brings out anger and tears. Bullying is such a reality for most of youth, and they don't know what to do about it. Then you have the boy who wants to remain in his dream land because then he wouldn't have to cry and cry over the death of his brother, yet I can also tell that Jesus is working in his life when he writes about remaining with him forever more. We were preparing writings to be used for spoken word/slam poetry. The kids were so restless today as I was trying to teach them how to write slam poetry, but as soon as I started talking about Jesus being condemned to death- all eyes were on me. Then for some reason, I was given the grace to write my own slam poetry and perform it before them. This month we are preparing a modified stations of the cross represented through different art forms like slam poetry.
The people in this city are so hungry for truth. I would even dare to say in this world, but we will take one city at a time! On Tuesday, I led the AA meeting at the Capuchin Soup Kitchen. I was asked to do it 2 hours before it started. I had led Bible studies before there, but never an AA meeting. I decided to blend the two together. There was one time during the meeting when I was preaching a bit about Psalm 32, and I looked up to see everyone looking and listening to me. Those moments overwhelm and I think "blaha what am i doing!?" I led an AA meeting, and it went really well. I cannot even begin to take the credit for it. I'm not equipped to lead AA meetings, but I have said "yes" to the Lord and He is equipped to do whatever He wants to with me.
Part of my late night thoughts is extreme randomness as I process through my day. So one of the girls I work with isn't going to school right now because her mom doesn't have enough money to put gas in the car. She's NOT going to school because they can't afford to put gas in the car.
Life is so complicated here. I have been told to survive here long term I need to prepare myself as if I am living in a third world country. I can't even begin to list all the times I wondered if I truly was in a third world country. Sometimes my life goes in circles and I wonder if I am accomplishing anything. I went to the library twice yesterday to try to get a movie for youth group. The first time the movie section was randomly closed. The second time was a failure because I wasn't able to get the movie even though they said they had it online. I don't think it was an absolute failure though because I was able to talk with a guy from the Freedom Projects who I hadn't seen in a while. I think it was an anointed meeting which I was very grateful for.
So often on nights like tonight, I think about my life as a missionary. I chuckle that I am in America because I imagine myself listening to music, burning a candle, and journaling in some foreign land. Who knows what that foreign land might be, but for right now it's Detroit. Oh Detroit! I never would have imagined living in this place. It's funny- a week ago today, I was leaving a families house after a very intense time of prayer and driving through downtown Detroit with my windows open (definitely not warm enough) with a Scotsman. I would have never imagined that in my wildest dreams. And yet there I was on Jefferies looking at the skyscrapers passing by, feeling the breeze on my face, and experiencing the Lord's blessings of the life He has given me. It's not easy or always the most attractive, but it truly is a blessed life. As I blow out my candle and crawl into bed, I thank God for stepping into my life and leading me on the adventure of a life time!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
You Give and Take Away
I am incredibly blessed this morning as I wake up with the sun shining through the window remembering the great blessings of waking up this morning. My black brothers and sisters both from Africa and Detroit have taught me a lot about blessedness and be incredibly grateful for the new day God has given us.
This morning, I was also reflecting upon a situation within Youth Works that we have been praying for all year, and I want to now bring to your attention. We no longer have one of our vans we used to use on a regular basis. It has definitely been frustrating to have to use other vehicles that don't work as well. But as I am listening to Tree63's song "Blessed Be Your Name," I realize that God gives and takes away but blessed be His name. No matter what happens- God is worthy to be blessed and praised.
My brothers and sisters, this is not only a blog about God's blessings, but also about being a Christian community. Acts 2.42-27 as well as Acts 4.32-37, it talks about life in a Christian community. They prayed together, broke bread together, and witnessed together. They also had a common life together. Scripture says, "There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the sale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need." These verses strike me because it really shows what it means to be ONE in the body of Christ and to have everything be provided through Christ's body.
Youth Works is in need of a working mini van that will be used for our Bezalel Project. Bezalel Project works with kids in our neighborhood in 2nd-8th grade. Most of the kids are from the housing projects and have very difficult lives. We are blessed with the opportunity to share the Gospel of Jesus Christ by loving these children as well as giving them opportunities to grow academically, artistically, and spiritually. Here's a video of the youth we worked with this summer: http://kairos-media.org/?view/video/FKVfXBVn If you have a van or know someone with a van that they are willing to donate, please contact me at senilles@stthomas.edu
There are many needs in our world, but I believe that God desires to fill these needs if we are only willing to listen to Him. Take some time to pray and see how you are being called to share within the body of Christ. And through all things may we bless the name of the Lord!
Blessed Be Your Name Lyrics:
Blessed be Your name in the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name when I?m found in the
desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be your name
Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back
to praise
And when the darkness closes in Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name when the suns shining
down on me
When the worlds ?ll as it should be
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name on the road marked
with suffering
Though theres pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
This morning, I was also reflecting upon a situation within Youth Works that we have been praying for all year, and I want to now bring to your attention. We no longer have one of our vans we used to use on a regular basis. It has definitely been frustrating to have to use other vehicles that don't work as well. But as I am listening to Tree63's song "Blessed Be Your Name," I realize that God gives and takes away but blessed be His name. No matter what happens- God is worthy to be blessed and praised.
My brothers and sisters, this is not only a blog about God's blessings, but also about being a Christian community. Acts 2.42-27 as well as Acts 4.32-37, it talks about life in a Christian community. They prayed together, broke bread together, and witnessed together. They also had a common life together. Scripture says, "There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the sale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need." These verses strike me because it really shows what it means to be ONE in the body of Christ and to have everything be provided through Christ's body.
Youth Works is in need of a working mini van that will be used for our Bezalel Project. Bezalel Project works with kids in our neighborhood in 2nd-8th grade. Most of the kids are from the housing projects and have very difficult lives. We are blessed with the opportunity to share the Gospel of Jesus Christ by loving these children as well as giving them opportunities to grow academically, artistically, and spiritually. Here's a video of the youth we worked with this summer: http://kairos-media.org/?view/video/FKVfXBVn If you have a van or know someone with a van that they are willing to donate, please contact me at senilles@stthomas.edu
There are many needs in our world, but I believe that God desires to fill these needs if we are only willing to listen to Him. Take some time to pray and see how you are being called to share within the body of Christ. And through all things may we bless the name of the Lord!
Blessed Be Your Name Lyrics:
Blessed be Your name in the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name when I?m found in the
desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be your name
Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back
to praise
And when the darkness closes in Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name when the suns shining
down on me
When the worlds ?ll as it should be
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name on the road marked
with suffering
Though theres pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
My Parents & God's Garden
For my entire life (including now), I have been dependent upon my parents for so many things in my life. I am incredibly blessed because they have always been there for me to support, love, and care for me. I could always go to them for help with my school project, a problem with a friend, new shoes, gas money, the list can go on. My dad always asks me, "how are you doing financially?" And for the most part I am doing just fine because so many people have provided for me so well. Money has never been an issue for me. I have always been careful with money. When my parents gave me money to go to the mall, I always shopped on the sale racks and would bring the change back. Of course there have been times when I didn't really have money, but I could have gotten it quite easily.
This isn't the case for so many of the people I serve. They struggle. I hear that phrase a lot, and I don't really understand it. Today, I was enlightened just a little bit of what it means to struggle. One guy here in Detroit was talking about how no one in his family has money. He can't just go to his mama and ask for money. Now that he has a job, he is usually giving some money to his mama. Whenever one of his brothers or sisters gets money, they share the little bit of what they have around. In order to get anything he wants, he has to earn it. And it's not even that simple. If you don't have a car, it's hard to get to your job or school. Other times, you are dealt a bad hand of cards and something get stolen or someone screws you over.
This was talking to me about how he has support from different ministries, but it doesn't really care for his physical needs. He still needs money to pay his bills, for gas, food, incidentals, ect. He talked about the times in which he would sell weed or gamble in order to make a living. He said that people think so poorly about drug dealers, and sometimes it just starts with somebody in a desperate situation needing to feed their family. Not all drug dealers are like this. Some are in it for the fancy things, but many of them start off just needing some extra cash. I encountered the same thing in Sierra Leone. Women would go into prostitution in order to feed their children. Yes, it's a horrible thing. It's wrong. They shouldn't be doing it, but what else should they do?
You have heard the quote, "Give a man to fish and he will eat today. Teach a man to fish and he will eat for a lifetime." Somebody once said that it isn't good enough to teach a man to fish, but to also know where the fish are coming from. As I continue to live, love, and learn, I've realized knowing where the fish come from is so important. We can't just tell people to change or to stop doing what they are doing. We need to learn WHY they are doing what they are doing. Then we can deal with the root issue. But it's easier to prune a tree rather than uproot it completely. It's a lot of work to uproot a tree. It's not just this one tree. There is a forest of trees with their roots SO intertwined. We have to learn about the trees, learn about the soil, uproot, untie, and plant again. It gives a new meaning to a new creation.
People sometimes ask what I am doing here in Detroit. I play in the dirt. God gives me water, tools, fertilizer, shovels, hoes, light, ect. and I use it. I haven't uprooted any trees yet, but I have been apart of learning a lot about the trees, soil, and I have even untied a few roots. It's a messy job, but I am grateful to be a part of it because I know one day the fruit is going to be beautiful and delicious.
For some reason, I have never had to struggle for the basic necessities like so many of those around me. In Minneapolis, there is a ministry called Source who works with at risk and alienated youth. The director and I were once talking about how our society says at the age of 18 you are an adult, but he asked me how many 18 year old I knew who were not still depending at least partially on their parents. I couldn't think of many. I am so blessed by the ways in which my parents have cared and provided for me. I know that I wouldn't be able to do this work without them. At the same time, I realize that not everyone is blessed in the same way that I am. I try to understand their situations and not be as quick to judge. Most of the time we only see a small bit of the whole picture. Life is not as simple as we often make it up to be. We live in a world intertwined with so many others. Let us be gentle with one another and allow God to tend His garden with grace and mercy.
This isn't the case for so many of the people I serve. They struggle. I hear that phrase a lot, and I don't really understand it. Today, I was enlightened just a little bit of what it means to struggle. One guy here in Detroit was talking about how no one in his family has money. He can't just go to his mama and ask for money. Now that he has a job, he is usually giving some money to his mama. Whenever one of his brothers or sisters gets money, they share the little bit of what they have around. In order to get anything he wants, he has to earn it. And it's not even that simple. If you don't have a car, it's hard to get to your job or school. Other times, you are dealt a bad hand of cards and something get stolen or someone screws you over.
This was talking to me about how he has support from different ministries, but it doesn't really care for his physical needs. He still needs money to pay his bills, for gas, food, incidentals, ect. He talked about the times in which he would sell weed or gamble in order to make a living. He said that people think so poorly about drug dealers, and sometimes it just starts with somebody in a desperate situation needing to feed their family. Not all drug dealers are like this. Some are in it for the fancy things, but many of them start off just needing some extra cash. I encountered the same thing in Sierra Leone. Women would go into prostitution in order to feed their children. Yes, it's a horrible thing. It's wrong. They shouldn't be doing it, but what else should they do?
You have heard the quote, "Give a man to fish and he will eat today. Teach a man to fish and he will eat for a lifetime." Somebody once said that it isn't good enough to teach a man to fish, but to also know where the fish are coming from. As I continue to live, love, and learn, I've realized knowing where the fish come from is so important. We can't just tell people to change or to stop doing what they are doing. We need to learn WHY they are doing what they are doing. Then we can deal with the root issue. But it's easier to prune a tree rather than uproot it completely. It's a lot of work to uproot a tree. It's not just this one tree. There is a forest of trees with their roots SO intertwined. We have to learn about the trees, learn about the soil, uproot, untie, and plant again. It gives a new meaning to a new creation.
People sometimes ask what I am doing here in Detroit. I play in the dirt. God gives me water, tools, fertilizer, shovels, hoes, light, ect. and I use it. I haven't uprooted any trees yet, but I have been apart of learning a lot about the trees, soil, and I have even untied a few roots. It's a messy job, but I am grateful to be a part of it because I know one day the fruit is going to be beautiful and delicious.
For some reason, I have never had to struggle for the basic necessities like so many of those around me. In Minneapolis, there is a ministry called Source who works with at risk and alienated youth. The director and I were once talking about how our society says at the age of 18 you are an adult, but he asked me how many 18 year old I knew who were not still depending at least partially on their parents. I couldn't think of many. I am so blessed by the ways in which my parents have cared and provided for me. I know that I wouldn't be able to do this work without them. At the same time, I realize that not everyone is blessed in the same way that I am. I try to understand their situations and not be as quick to judge. Most of the time we only see a small bit of the whole picture. Life is not as simple as we often make it up to be. We live in a world intertwined with so many others. Let us be gentle with one another and allow God to tend His garden with grace and mercy.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
You don't have to read this-part 2
Last Tuesday (while driving to UCO- a Christian prayer group at the University of Michigan campus), I learned that the woman I wrote about in "You don't have to read this" froze to death during the night of Friday, January 21. I was in shock and horror when I heard this, yet I didn't scream or cry even though everything inside of me wanted to. Ed said that she suffered from paranoia. The Franciscan Friars had tried to get her in a shelter or apartment, but she would always leave. Ed took comfort in the fact that she was no longer suffering. It gives a whole new meaning of what heaven will be like and what the meaning of Revelation 21. 4, "He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, (for) the older order has passed away."
But we can mourn now and we should. I work with a lot of men, so I struggle sometimes with the concept of crying and mourning because I'm not really in an environment where I can break down and sob. Well, I could, but it's not the same as living in a household of women like I did last year. At the same time, there is a need to still mourn. Jesus wept. It's the shortest and sometimes I think the most powerful verse in the Bible. God mourns over His hurting people. A Father weeps over His children.
Fr. Tod, the parish priest of St. Aloysius Church- the church Linda usually stayed in front of, wrote this in the bulletin:
"Earlier this week as I drove by 37 State street, I noticed a small group of people gathered by the empty doorway where Brother Al discovered Linda. They seemed to be praying and I knwe it was for this poor woman and all who die of the terrible cold.
We could focus on the poverty that drives these people onto the streets, the desperation of their lives that leaves them so alone in the world. We could move onto rail against 'the system; and how it seems to be so uncaring and to always look for ways to withhold precious resources from those most in need. As true as all these arguments are and as much as we need to address the issues, we would, I suspect be avoiding the heart of the matter.
Both women are human persons. They are our sisters. They are gone now and we are bereft, grieving their passing. We feel the emptiness, the helplessness and perhaps even the futility in all our efforts to be there for them. We somehow need to give voice to our deep, aching pain. We need to remember both women in our prayer and in our corporation lives. They are a part of us and something of each of us has died with them. In our poverty we bring all of this to God and cry out, 'may the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace!'"
Fr. Tod put into words so much what I was thinking and feeling. It was very comforting to see a man who is shepherding God's people give them hope and comfort. God didn't will for these women to suffer and die, but he did allow it. He also is able to and will bring good out of this situation. There is already a proposal and letter being written to the city to provide space within city buildings to be used on bitterly cold nights. I don't know what is going to come of it, but people are starting to recognize and act upon this desperate need. And for others of us, we just continue to weep, cry out injustice, love those around us, and hope in the saving power of our sovereign King. Come Lord Jesus. Come quickly. We eagerly wait for that day when there will be no more weeping or mourning, and we will be able to rejoice in your presence.
But we can mourn now and we should. I work with a lot of men, so I struggle sometimes with the concept of crying and mourning because I'm not really in an environment where I can break down and sob. Well, I could, but it's not the same as living in a household of women like I did last year. At the same time, there is a need to still mourn. Jesus wept. It's the shortest and sometimes I think the most powerful verse in the Bible. God mourns over His hurting people. A Father weeps over His children.
Fr. Tod, the parish priest of St. Aloysius Church- the church Linda usually stayed in front of, wrote this in the bulletin:
"Earlier this week as I drove by 37 State street, I noticed a small group of people gathered by the empty doorway where Brother Al discovered Linda. They seemed to be praying and I knwe it was for this poor woman and all who die of the terrible cold.
We could focus on the poverty that drives these people onto the streets, the desperation of their lives that leaves them so alone in the world. We could move onto rail against 'the system; and how it seems to be so uncaring and to always look for ways to withhold precious resources from those most in need. As true as all these arguments are and as much as we need to address the issues, we would, I suspect be avoiding the heart of the matter.
Both women are human persons. They are our sisters. They are gone now and we are bereft, grieving their passing. We feel the emptiness, the helplessness and perhaps even the futility in all our efforts to be there for them. We somehow need to give voice to our deep, aching pain. We need to remember both women in our prayer and in our corporation lives. They are a part of us and something of each of us has died with them. In our poverty we bring all of this to God and cry out, 'may the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace!'"
Fr. Tod put into words so much what I was thinking and feeling. It was very comforting to see a man who is shepherding God's people give them hope and comfort. God didn't will for these women to suffer and die, but he did allow it. He also is able to and will bring good out of this situation. There is already a proposal and letter being written to the city to provide space within city buildings to be used on bitterly cold nights. I don't know what is going to come of it, but people are starting to recognize and act upon this desperate need. And for others of us, we just continue to weep, cry out injustice, love those around us, and hope in the saving power of our sovereign King. Come Lord Jesus. Come quickly. We eagerly wait for that day when there will be no more weeping or mourning, and we will be able to rejoice in your presence.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
You don't have to read this
I am giving you fair warning: YOU DON'T HAVE TO READ THIS... but if you do, know that you can't unread it. Today was real... yet again. It was painful, and I saw things that I didn't want to see. I actually turned away from it, but after talking to a good friend back in Minnesota he helped me to understand what I did and what I am doing. He was actually the one who told me I needed to write about this because people need to know. People need to know the reality of the country in which they live in.
This morning was kind of rough for me. I was in desperate need of some time with God, but like usual I just didn't have the time that I needed or maybe that I wasn't willing to make. I knew God was trying to reach deep within me, but I wasn't quite ready for it. Off to church I went knowing that it would find me there, and there it did find me. (I don't even want to keep writing because my heart aches terribly just thinking about it.) As our car drove up to St. Al's in downtown Detroit, I turned to see a white bare bum and thighs of a woman between two cars urinating. She must of been in her late 50's maybe early 60's. She was barely squatting, but it was quite evident that she was easing herself. I turned away quickly half chuckling that we were trying to get into this small parking space and that I had just seen this woman going to the bathroom in street wondering but not dare asking if the guy next to me saw it too. "Only in Detroit," I said to myself trying to brush it off.
When we got out of the car, our Detroit friend, E, walked over to see if the woman was ok now that she was back in her little cubby while the other guy was just kind of standing to see what the situation was. I waited for a second and then just went inside. I couldn't deal with it. I just needed some time to pray. Homeless people are outside the church all the time in this cubby. After putting down my stuff, I went straight to the front of the church to pray near the tabernacle. Tears started streaming down as I prayed. I just didn't want to deal with that pain and suffering of the city at that moment, yet it was hitting me all at once. I just felt the Lord's grief as I grieved over this woman and so many like her. I cried out to God apologizing for my own inadequacy, yet acknowledging Him as Lord over all.
After gathering myself together, I sat next to E and asked her about the woman. E told me that she had no shoes. She had no shoes on. She had no shoes. It was 7 degrees outside last night. It is snowy and slushy. Her socks must have been sopping. It must have been so cold and painful standing on that marble without any shoes. E invited her inside, but the woman said that she needed some air. E said that she understood. E said that her shoes were too small, but I knew mine weren't. I thought about going out to be with the woman, but I knew that I needed to be at Mass. I just prayed for her and kept offering her up. In my brokenness sorrow, I was able to connect deeply to the Mass finding a great peace and comfort. I realized that it wouldn't be much help to give her my shoes because she needed new socks. I decided that after Mass I would go out to talk to her, drive home, and bring back a pair of boots and thick socks. When I headed out after Mass, I saw two cop cars, an ambulance, and a Franciscan Friar. I knew that she was in good hands, and the brother would make sure she was taken care of. God is good and He finds ways to care for all of His children.
There are so many situations in Detroit that take me aback and cause me to wonder which country I am in... Sierra Leone or America? The poorest country in the world or the richest country in the world? Can you imagine getting to the point in which you just pee in the street? Or walking with no shoes? And how many shoes do I have in my closet? Or in your closet? Since coming to Detroit, I have been reading a lot of the Book of Isaiah. The prophets often cry out about the injustice of our world and of God's people. In Isaiah 58 it says, "This, rather, is the fasting I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke; Setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke..." Lord, I cry "INJUSTICE!" A woman was walking in the cold and snow with no shoes. She was urinating in the streets. Where is her dignity? Her dignity is in being a daughter of God, but does she even know this? Let us be the voice that cries "INJUSTICE" in our world and be the hands and feet in which the Lord uses to bind the brokenhearted and love the unlovables. I might have been wrong today not going over there to help her, but I am in need of a Savior not a savior myself. I have come to realize that I need to be filled with the Lord, and unless it is His strength and love, I am useless. May I have the humility and strength to keep crawling back to the Lord so that He may love me in order that I may love others sharing the love of Christ.
This morning was kind of rough for me. I was in desperate need of some time with God, but like usual I just didn't have the time that I needed or maybe that I wasn't willing to make. I knew God was trying to reach deep within me, but I wasn't quite ready for it. Off to church I went knowing that it would find me there, and there it did find me. (I don't even want to keep writing because my heart aches terribly just thinking about it.) As our car drove up to St. Al's in downtown Detroit, I turned to see a white bare bum and thighs of a woman between two cars urinating. She must of been in her late 50's maybe early 60's. She was barely squatting, but it was quite evident that she was easing herself. I turned away quickly half chuckling that we were trying to get into this small parking space and that I had just seen this woman going to the bathroom in street wondering but not dare asking if the guy next to me saw it too. "Only in Detroit," I said to myself trying to brush it off.
When we got out of the car, our Detroit friend, E, walked over to see if the woman was ok now that she was back in her little cubby while the other guy was just kind of standing to see what the situation was. I waited for a second and then just went inside. I couldn't deal with it. I just needed some time to pray. Homeless people are outside the church all the time in this cubby. After putting down my stuff, I went straight to the front of the church to pray near the tabernacle. Tears started streaming down as I prayed. I just didn't want to deal with that pain and suffering of the city at that moment, yet it was hitting me all at once. I just felt the Lord's grief as I grieved over this woman and so many like her. I cried out to God apologizing for my own inadequacy, yet acknowledging Him as Lord over all.
After gathering myself together, I sat next to E and asked her about the woman. E told me that she had no shoes. She had no shoes on. She had no shoes. It was 7 degrees outside last night. It is snowy and slushy. Her socks must have been sopping. It must have been so cold and painful standing on that marble without any shoes. E invited her inside, but the woman said that she needed some air. E said that she understood. E said that her shoes were too small, but I knew mine weren't. I thought about going out to be with the woman, but I knew that I needed to be at Mass. I just prayed for her and kept offering her up. In my brokenness sorrow, I was able to connect deeply to the Mass finding a great peace and comfort. I realized that it wouldn't be much help to give her my shoes because she needed new socks. I decided that after Mass I would go out to talk to her, drive home, and bring back a pair of boots and thick socks. When I headed out after Mass, I saw two cop cars, an ambulance, and a Franciscan Friar. I knew that she was in good hands, and the brother would make sure she was taken care of. God is good and He finds ways to care for all of His children.
There are so many situations in Detroit that take me aback and cause me to wonder which country I am in... Sierra Leone or America? The poorest country in the world or the richest country in the world? Can you imagine getting to the point in which you just pee in the street? Or walking with no shoes? And how many shoes do I have in my closet? Or in your closet? Since coming to Detroit, I have been reading a lot of the Book of Isaiah. The prophets often cry out about the injustice of our world and of God's people. In Isaiah 58 it says, "This, rather, is the fasting I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke; Setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke..." Lord, I cry "INJUSTICE!" A woman was walking in the cold and snow with no shoes. She was urinating in the streets. Where is her dignity? Her dignity is in being a daughter of God, but does she even know this? Let us be the voice that cries "INJUSTICE" in our world and be the hands and feet in which the Lord uses to bind the brokenhearted and love the unlovables. I might have been wrong today not going over there to help her, but I am in need of a Savior not a savior myself. I have come to realize that I need to be filled with the Lord, and unless it is His strength and love, I am useless. May I have the humility and strength to keep crawling back to the Lord so that He may love me in order that I may love others sharing the love of Christ.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Brutal Honesty
I don't know if you have ever spent an extended time period with an African American family, but something you will quickly realize is that usually they are all brutally honest with one another, with you, with the guy walking down the street. It is just part of their culture and personhood to be extremely honest.
Last week, a couple of my friends were visiting from St. Paul, and they attended an AA meeting with me at the Capuchin Soup Kitchen. One of the things that stuck out to them was how honest everyone was. The people at the meeting told it as it was. They weren't trying to hide anything because there was no reason to do so. There were a few women who were being extremely honest about using, being in jail that week, and a few other situations going on in their life. Because of their honesty, another man was able to be honest about catching his girl with another man, and how he really wanted to use but didn't. Men, especially African American men, don't like to be honest about those sorts of things, yet because of other people's honesty he was able to be honest. It gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "The Truth will set you free." Honesty is a huge part of the 12 Steps AA program. They say that if you have the capacity of being honest with yourself this program can work for you, but only if you are honest with yourself and others.
For my friends who were visiting, this honesty came as a bit of a shock. They were reflecting on their lives back home and how few people were actually honest with each other. In the white, especially suburban, culture (this doesn't mean that you have to be white it is just the ethnicity that is most associated with this culture) we often like to wear masks to hide from the reality of life. We don't like to show people what is actually going on in our lives, so we hide behind the mask of "this is the me I want to show you." But what if that isn't the actual you? (Oh baby, I could go on about that, but I am going to stick with honesty for a bit.) We like to smooth things over and avoid confrontation. It often feels like we are walking on glass in order to not ruffle any feathers. But that's craziness! We would rather choose walking on glass... GLASS... in order to not ruffle any feathers! Feathers or glass?!
Yesterday, Andy and I went to visit a family that has been working with Youth Works for the past few years. They are an incredible family that is close to both of our hearts. It is always a huge blessing to go over to their house to hang out and talk trash... and that's often what we do. It is so good to be their sitting in their living room talking about everything under the sun, yet it can often be a little awkward. Everything is talked about, and I mean everything! This morning, I was reflecting on why I thought it was awkward, and I realized that it was too honest for me. I am not used to the brutal honesty that dominates our conversations. In another one of my blogs that I am working on, I talk more about the raw reality of Detroit, and honesty is another part of this raw reality in which I live in. The honesty stretches me, but it is such a blessing. It is an honor for me to sit in their living room like family talking about anything that comes to mind. Even though there are things said that make me feel a little awkward like talking about strip clubs, if I have ADHD, what smells in the house, or which guy is the cutest, there is also the conversations where I feel so privileged to be sitting in the living room of these teachers. Teachers who open their lives up to me in order to share what's really going on. I see the hand of God at work right before my eyes.
In our work in Detroit, we see very little of the fruit of our labors, but with this family, God just lavishes me with blessings. They are so grateful for what Youth Works provides to not only their family, but to the city. Together we are able to share how our lives have been changed by the work in which God is doing in through Youth Works. And I see it. I see how Andy and I have been changed, and I get the pleasure of seeing how this family is being changed.
This brutal honesty isn't really as brutal as I once thought. The things I often see as awkward aren't as awkward as I thought if I put them into context. I am actually grateful that they feel comfortable enough to share these things with me. The honesty can sometimes be painful, but it's real. There is a rawness to it that testifies to our true personhood- to our being. It gets to the core of who we are- A beautiful mess in need of a Savior.
Last week, a couple of my friends were visiting from St. Paul, and they attended an AA meeting with me at the Capuchin Soup Kitchen. One of the things that stuck out to them was how honest everyone was. The people at the meeting told it as it was. They weren't trying to hide anything because there was no reason to do so. There were a few women who were being extremely honest about using, being in jail that week, and a few other situations going on in their life. Because of their honesty, another man was able to be honest about catching his girl with another man, and how he really wanted to use but didn't. Men, especially African American men, don't like to be honest about those sorts of things, yet because of other people's honesty he was able to be honest. It gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "The Truth will set you free." Honesty is a huge part of the 12 Steps AA program. They say that if you have the capacity of being honest with yourself this program can work for you, but only if you are honest with yourself and others.
For my friends who were visiting, this honesty came as a bit of a shock. They were reflecting on their lives back home and how few people were actually honest with each other. In the white, especially suburban, culture (this doesn't mean that you have to be white it is just the ethnicity that is most associated with this culture) we often like to wear masks to hide from the reality of life. We don't like to show people what is actually going on in our lives, so we hide behind the mask of "this is the me I want to show you." But what if that isn't the actual you? (Oh baby, I could go on about that, but I am going to stick with honesty for a bit.) We like to smooth things over and avoid confrontation. It often feels like we are walking on glass in order to not ruffle any feathers. But that's craziness! We would rather choose walking on glass... GLASS... in order to not ruffle any feathers! Feathers or glass?!
Yesterday, Andy and I went to visit a family that has been working with Youth Works for the past few years. They are an incredible family that is close to both of our hearts. It is always a huge blessing to go over to their house to hang out and talk trash... and that's often what we do. It is so good to be their sitting in their living room talking about everything under the sun, yet it can often be a little awkward. Everything is talked about, and I mean everything! This morning, I was reflecting on why I thought it was awkward, and I realized that it was too honest for me. I am not used to the brutal honesty that dominates our conversations. In another one of my blogs that I am working on, I talk more about the raw reality of Detroit, and honesty is another part of this raw reality in which I live in. The honesty stretches me, but it is such a blessing. It is an honor for me to sit in their living room like family talking about anything that comes to mind. Even though there are things said that make me feel a little awkward like talking about strip clubs, if I have ADHD, what smells in the house, or which guy is the cutest, there is also the conversations where I feel so privileged to be sitting in the living room of these teachers. Teachers who open their lives up to me in order to share what's really going on. I see the hand of God at work right before my eyes.
In our work in Detroit, we see very little of the fruit of our labors, but with this family, God just lavishes me with blessings. They are so grateful for what Youth Works provides to not only their family, but to the city. Together we are able to share how our lives have been changed by the work in which God is doing in through Youth Works. And I see it. I see how Andy and I have been changed, and I get the pleasure of seeing how this family is being changed.
This brutal honesty isn't really as brutal as I once thought. The things I often see as awkward aren't as awkward as I thought if I put them into context. I am actually grateful that they feel comfortable enough to share these things with me. The honesty can sometimes be painful, but it's real. There is a rawness to it that testifies to our true personhood- to our being. It gets to the core of who we are- A beautiful mess in need of a Savior.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Falling in Love...again
Today, I was driving down Second Street, and I fell in love again. I was struck by the people walking on the streets bustling about here and there. I was struck by the abandon buildings on one side of the street and the beautiful murals and graffiti on the other side of the street. I drove down Willis past Avalon International Bakery that was packed like usual to find a parking place. I got out of my car, looked around, and was struck by the love I have for this city. This city that is so broken, bruised, hurt, raw, and real.
Everything in this city is so real that is almost hurts... it does hurt. In C.S. Lewis' book, The Great Divorce, a man takes a bus that leads to heaven. Everything is so REAL there that the blades of grass hurt his feet. Eventually though, he is able to walk further and further into heaven that his feet become stronger and he like busts out of his old self (I think that's how it goes. It has been a while since I have read the book. I know the blades of grass hurt his feet though). Could you imagine that? Could you imagine having blades of grass hurt your feet... because it is so real?
I don't think we live in a world of reality anymore. I don't think we even know what is real and what is imaginary anymore. We spend so much time creating our own worlds that we cannot even see the reality of the world in which we live in. There is a world out there that is real- it is beautiful, majestic, awesome, broken, frail, wet, dry, hard, soft, filled with tears, joys, dreams, people, plants, buildings, animals, air, grass, roses, rocks. At the Detroit Institute of Art there is a piece of art which is really hard to understand. It's just massive rocks simply placed upon the floor. The artist challenges the viewers to take a moment to notice the shape, color, structure, simplicity, massiveness, and beauty of these rocks. Imagine if we did the same thing to people! What if we took time to listen to the beauty of the foreign language of those sitting next to us in the coffee shop. The eyes, hands, facial features of those we pass on the street, in the market, at work, the list can go on. What if we look the homeless person we walk by right in the eye that they know they are loved and cared about... that someone gives a damn about them, yet do we?
Why are we so obsessed with reality television? What is real about reality television except that there are real person on the other side of the "idiot box"? (I remember learning in elementary school that idiot box is the name for televisions in Australia.) Are we so stuck on reality television that we can no longer live in the reality of the world around us?
I don't know what Detroit is doing to me. It's changing me. I feel like I have been laid bare here. By being stripped down to my bare essentials, I am coming to understand what it means to be human. To be a live. To just be.
Everything in this city is so real that is almost hurts... it does hurt. In C.S. Lewis' book, The Great Divorce, a man takes a bus that leads to heaven. Everything is so REAL there that the blades of grass hurt his feet. Eventually though, he is able to walk further and further into heaven that his feet become stronger and he like busts out of his old self (I think that's how it goes. It has been a while since I have read the book. I know the blades of grass hurt his feet though). Could you imagine that? Could you imagine having blades of grass hurt your feet... because it is so real?
I don't think we live in a world of reality anymore. I don't think we even know what is real and what is imaginary anymore. We spend so much time creating our own worlds that we cannot even see the reality of the world in which we live in. There is a world out there that is real- it is beautiful, majestic, awesome, broken, frail, wet, dry, hard, soft, filled with tears, joys, dreams, people, plants, buildings, animals, air, grass, roses, rocks. At the Detroit Institute of Art there is a piece of art which is really hard to understand. It's just massive rocks simply placed upon the floor. The artist challenges the viewers to take a moment to notice the shape, color, structure, simplicity, massiveness, and beauty of these rocks. Imagine if we did the same thing to people! What if we took time to listen to the beauty of the foreign language of those sitting next to us in the coffee shop. The eyes, hands, facial features of those we pass on the street, in the market, at work, the list can go on. What if we look the homeless person we walk by right in the eye that they know they are loved and cared about... that someone gives a damn about them, yet do we?
Why are we so obsessed with reality television? What is real about reality television except that there are real person on the other side of the "idiot box"? (I remember learning in elementary school that idiot box is the name for televisions in Australia.) Are we so stuck on reality television that we can no longer live in the reality of the world around us?
I don't know what Detroit is doing to me. It's changing me. I feel like I have been laid bare here. By being stripped down to my bare essentials, I am coming to understand what it means to be human. To be a live. To just be.
Testimony as a Detroit Gappper
I was recently asked to write my testimony as a woman gapper in Detroit for a newsletter. This is my story (at least some of it):
In January of 2010, I clearly remember my pastoral leader asking me if I had considered serving with Detroit Summer Outreach. She was shocked that no one had ever talked to me about doing it since the Lord was doing a lot in my heart in the areas of serving, poverty, inter-city work, ecumenism, and community – everything encompassing the work in Detroit. After dragging my feet for a bit, I applied and was accepted into the summer program. I never would have imagined that saying "yes" to one invitation by the Lord would open the door to a life changing invitation that I received through an e-mail a week after being accepted into DSO. Josh Rock asked me to prayerfully consider doing a Standing in the Gap year in Detroit that following year. I e-mailed Josh back saying that it was crazy to think about leaving school when I had one year left, leaving Saint Paul's Outreach which I was actively involved in, to fundraise for a year of service when I had school loans, to move to a city that I knew nothing about, and to approach my parents back in Iowa about doing a program that I barely knew anything about. In my e-mail I said, "Doing a Gap year is crazy, but at the same time it makes a lot of sense to me because my heart desires most of the things that you are doing in Detroit." After prayer and many long conversations, I said "yes" to the invitation to come and see the Lord's work in Detroit.
That is what my Gap year is about. Opening my eyes to the wonder of God's work here in Detroit and stripping me down to my essential being as a daughter of God. Everything in Detroit is raw and real, and I experience that everyday. Detroit is bruised, broken, oppressed, and impoverished, yet it is so close to God's heart. I came into my year of service with a whole bunch of ideas about leading the youth group, our after-school program, and working with the poor. The Lord quickly taught me that this is His work and all outside ideas, game plans, and prides need to be left at the door. I lead the high school girls’ youth group which has tripled in size this year from one girl to three. I tried to do the "normal" youth group thing by leading worship, having Bible studies, giving talks, and doing girly things, but it didn't work. Finally, I surrendered, gave up all my preconceived notions, and allowed God to lead. It was messy, unconventional, and it didn't look like we were doing much – especially not much dealing with Christianity. Fortunately, Jesus leads our youth group. Last week, two of the younger girls were led to Christ, and I can't wait to see what God is going to do next week!
Being the only woman Gapper in Detroit has its challenges, but so does being a Christian. I have never felt so blessed in my entire life as I have here in Detroit. I get to walk on holy ground every single day. God's presence here is consuming. You can see Christ's love for His people. I can't explain it, but I experience it. I experience it at the Capuchin soup kitchen when I give Andre, a former gang leader, drug addict, and ex-con, a hug every Friday morning. I experience it while holding Esther's hands looking her in the eyes telling her of God's love even though she believes that her heart is too cold to be loved. I experience it sitting in the Wilson's living room shooting the breeze and sharing life. I experience it as a child from our after-school program, Bezalel Project, runs towards me for a hug, or while driving through the projects picking up or dropping off kids. I experience it through our tight-knit community here in Detroit that functions like a family. I experience God's love for His beloved children here in Detroit, and it's a privilege to have so many opportunities to love those in need of Him.
This Christmas, I received an ornament that says "Hope Shines Bright." A year ago, I would have never imagined that one simple invitation would change my life. The Lord invited me into the midst of His work, and I am truly privileged to say that "the hope of Christ truly shines bright in the city of Detroit."
In January of 2010, I clearly remember my pastoral leader asking me if I had considered serving with Detroit Summer Outreach. She was shocked that no one had ever talked to me about doing it since the Lord was doing a lot in my heart in the areas of serving, poverty, inter-city work, ecumenism, and community – everything encompassing the work in Detroit. After dragging my feet for a bit, I applied and was accepted into the summer program. I never would have imagined that saying "yes" to one invitation by the Lord would open the door to a life changing invitation that I received through an e-mail a week after being accepted into DSO. Josh Rock asked me to prayerfully consider doing a Standing in the Gap year in Detroit that following year. I e-mailed Josh back saying that it was crazy to think about leaving school when I had one year left, leaving Saint Paul's Outreach which I was actively involved in, to fundraise for a year of service when I had school loans, to move to a city that I knew nothing about, and to approach my parents back in Iowa about doing a program that I barely knew anything about. In my e-mail I said, "Doing a Gap year is crazy, but at the same time it makes a lot of sense to me because my heart desires most of the things that you are doing in Detroit." After prayer and many long conversations, I said "yes" to the invitation to come and see the Lord's work in Detroit.
That is what my Gap year is about. Opening my eyes to the wonder of God's work here in Detroit and stripping me down to my essential being as a daughter of God. Everything in Detroit is raw and real, and I experience that everyday. Detroit is bruised, broken, oppressed, and impoverished, yet it is so close to God's heart. I came into my year of service with a whole bunch of ideas about leading the youth group, our after-school program, and working with the poor. The Lord quickly taught me that this is His work and all outside ideas, game plans, and prides need to be left at the door. I lead the high school girls’ youth group which has tripled in size this year from one girl to three. I tried to do the "normal" youth group thing by leading worship, having Bible studies, giving talks, and doing girly things, but it didn't work. Finally, I surrendered, gave up all my preconceived notions, and allowed God to lead. It was messy, unconventional, and it didn't look like we were doing much – especially not much dealing with Christianity. Fortunately, Jesus leads our youth group. Last week, two of the younger girls were led to Christ, and I can't wait to see what God is going to do next week!
Being the only woman Gapper in Detroit has its challenges, but so does being a Christian. I have never felt so blessed in my entire life as I have here in Detroit. I get to walk on holy ground every single day. God's presence here is consuming. You can see Christ's love for His people. I can't explain it, but I experience it. I experience it at the Capuchin soup kitchen when I give Andre, a former gang leader, drug addict, and ex-con, a hug every Friday morning. I experience it while holding Esther's hands looking her in the eyes telling her of God's love even though she believes that her heart is too cold to be loved. I experience it sitting in the Wilson's living room shooting the breeze and sharing life. I experience it as a child from our after-school program, Bezalel Project, runs towards me for a hug, or while driving through the projects picking up or dropping off kids. I experience it through our tight-knit community here in Detroit that functions like a family. I experience God's love for His beloved children here in Detroit, and it's a privilege to have so many opportunities to love those in need of Him.
This Christmas, I received an ornament that says "Hope Shines Bright." A year ago, I would have never imagined that one simple invitation would change my life. The Lord invited me into the midst of His work, and I am truly privileged to say that "the hope of Christ truly shines bright in the city of Detroit."
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