So the class I teach at the Samaritan House is all about loving each other as brothers and sisters in Christ and some practical ways to live that out, a.k.a. service. As a part of the class, those who attend write letters to incoming residents, encouraging them, supporting them, and offering advice. We have nine letters, and a copy of one of the letters will be awaiting each new resident when they arrive. When we did this project last time, the letters were so meaningful to the new residents- some even taped the letters up beside their beds. Below you will find snippets from some of the letters.
"Dear fellow resident, even family, if I may,
I just want to tell you to tell you someone cares. Me, of course, but I am talking about the God upstairs, even if you don't know or still don't care, it doesn't matter. What a God I serve and I hope that you may come to know Jesus like that! Things about this world can be very great or very bad as you know if you have made it this far. But keep on pushing- for me, I hope you push towards God. If you don't, God still gives you the desires of your heart. Keep your head up."
"I'm glad you are here, even if you are not certain you are. This is not such a bad place to be physically. Mentally you may feel overwhelmed at all the information you've received. Know that the people here are filled with love, respect, and knowledge... Be gentle with yourself. Don't judge the past and don't look back. After all, you're not going there. Live life full, live life with God's love... Open your heart to use this trying time to learn lessons... These trials and heartbreaks and disappointments happen so that we may remember Him who gives us rest and peace within."
"My first day here was full of tears. I felt so many negative thoughts. However, while I was serving breakfast, I realized that I was giving back. I want you to know that this is a safe place and you have been blessed by being here... Know that you are loved and that Samaritan House is here for all of us to learn and grow.
You are loved by me, "
-Sam House residents and participants of the Faith and Service class
Monday, April 1, 2013
Saturday, March 9, 2013
First World Missionary Problems
Not too long ago, I had the joy of speaking to a friend who is a missionary in a third world country. We laughed about the differences in the problems I face as a missionary in the US versus the problems she faces. For example, I never have to worry about cleaning spilled oil with ashes or sawdust, or chasing a chicken out of the house, or finding a dead frog in the pipes. After our conversation, I started to think about all the problems we face as missionaries in a first world country that my friend probably won't face...
1. Balancing the temperature in your room so that you can sleep. Between the overactive heater that will flood the room if you turn it down and an open window, it's not as easy as you'd think.
2. Refreshing the Internet connection over and over again until it finally works. And when it still doesn't work, unplugging the router and plugging it back in. And when that doesn't work, finding work to do that doesn't involve the Internet.
3. Spellchecking your blog and finding out that Internet is a proper noun and thus should be capitalized. But apparently spellchecking is a real word.
3. Realizing that you can't continue to drive into the icy snowstorm, even though you're so close to home. And upon discovering that the one motel for the next 18 miles is full, begging the fire department to let you stay there.
4. Figuring out how to get to the Sam House for Bible studies. You've been going there all year, yet without fail each week when it's time to leave, nobody knows who will drive us or whose car we will borrow.
5. Determining if we have enough sheets, mattresses, rooms, etc. to accommodate an extra 16 people. As simple as it seems to count mattresses or sheets, it's one of those things that takes way more work than it should.
6. Deciding what's worth keeping after a fridge and a freezer have been unplugged for a couple days. On the bright side, we're no longer hanging on to the massive meat donation from a restaurant that's been cooked and frozen and thawed and frozen and in the freezer since August.
7. Convincing volunteers and donors that we are, in fact, still going to be serving our monthly lunch in the park, even though it's snowing. Apparently most people cancel events when it snows.
8. Eating cookout food in the snow. You really get a taste (literally) of what it's like to be homeless when you're eating soggy chips and hotdog buns.
9. Making string rosaries until your fingers blister. Then finding a different spot on your fingers to tie the string around so that you can make even more string rosaries.
10. Saying goodbye to groups of college students who come to serve with you for their spring break. You put a lot of work into preparing for them, yet the week went so fast that you didn't get enough time with them!
11. Talking with a woman who comes to the Gabriel House saying that she has no milk for her baby and nowhere to get any. Thankfully, you were able to find a place that can help her after just a couple of phone calls. (The real problem comes in trying to give her directions to the place in Spanish.)
12. Knowing that you haven't spent enough time in prayer based on your thoughts, words, and actions. Apparently charity really does come from Christ. (This one is probably a universal missionary problem. If missionaries in third world countries never find themselves lacking in charity, I'm going to move.)
13. Buying as much rubber cement as Walgreens has in stock. You're pretty sure the cashier thinks you're going to use it for other purposes, but something tells you she won't believe if you say that you need it to glue paper onto the sides of a thousand Chinese take-out boxes to make them into Lenten sacrifice boxes.
1. Balancing the temperature in your room so that you can sleep. Between the overactive heater that will flood the room if you turn it down and an open window, it's not as easy as you'd think.
2. Refreshing the Internet connection over and over again until it finally works. And when it still doesn't work, unplugging the router and plugging it back in. And when that doesn't work, finding work to do that doesn't involve the Internet.
3. Spellchecking your blog and finding out that Internet is a proper noun and thus should be capitalized. But apparently spellchecking is a real word.
3. Realizing that you can't continue to drive into the icy snowstorm, even though you're so close to home. And upon discovering that the one motel for the next 18 miles is full, begging the fire department to let you stay there.
4. Figuring out how to get to the Sam House for Bible studies. You've been going there all year, yet without fail each week when it's time to leave, nobody knows who will drive us or whose car we will borrow.
5. Determining if we have enough sheets, mattresses, rooms, etc. to accommodate an extra 16 people. As simple as it seems to count mattresses or sheets, it's one of those things that takes way more work than it should.
6. Deciding what's worth keeping after a fridge and a freezer have been unplugged for a couple days. On the bright side, we're no longer hanging on to the massive meat donation from a restaurant that's been cooked and frozen and thawed and frozen and in the freezer since August.
7. Convincing volunteers and donors that we are, in fact, still going to be serving our monthly lunch in the park, even though it's snowing. Apparently most people cancel events when it snows.
8. Eating cookout food in the snow. You really get a taste (literally) of what it's like to be homeless when you're eating soggy chips and hotdog buns.
9. Making string rosaries until your fingers blister. Then finding a different spot on your fingers to tie the string around so that you can make even more string rosaries.
10. Saying goodbye to groups of college students who come to serve with you for their spring break. You put a lot of work into preparing for them, yet the week went so fast that you didn't get enough time with them!
11. Talking with a woman who comes to the Gabriel House saying that she has no milk for her baby and nowhere to get any. Thankfully, you were able to find a place that can help her after just a couple of phone calls. (The real problem comes in trying to give her directions to the place in Spanish.)
12. Knowing that you haven't spent enough time in prayer based on your thoughts, words, and actions. Apparently charity really does come from Christ. (This one is probably a universal missionary problem. If missionaries in third world countries never find themselves lacking in charity, I'm going to move.)
13. Buying as much rubber cement as Walgreens has in stock. You're pretty sure the cashier thinks you're going to use it for other purposes, but something tells you she won't believe if you say that you need it to glue paper onto the sides of a thousand Chinese take-out boxes to make them into Lenten sacrifice boxes.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Yay Lent!
It's that time of year again. All the crucifixes are covered with purple cloth, you feel like you should be somber all the time, and the a-word suddenly has a different meaning. Growing up Catholic, I usually thought of Lent as an exciting challenge. It was pretty much the only time of year we would eat fish sticks, which I secretly enjoyed. The rice bowl in the center of the table was kind of neat to look at / read. And my competitive side liked the see-how-long-you-can-go-without-eating-sweets (though the actual application of it I didn't like so much). Basically, Lent was about me. (O fallen man, we can find a way to make anything be about us, huh?) Granted, I've gotten better over the years, and I'd like to think it hasn't been quite so self-centered in recent years.
But this year, I am making a conscious effort to make Lent about God, or rather to acknowledge the fact that it is about Him. My Lenten resolutions focus on removing the rocks along my path to God and loving Him more. Instead of being a competition, it is quite humbling: I have to first admit to myself that those rocks are there and that I have allowed them to be there. Then I must try to push them out of the way, and subsequently admit that they are not rocks so much as boulders and they are not easy to move.
In his homily, a priest described Lent like this: interior purification through exterior mortification. My exterior mortifications must be about purifying my soul. (Maybe that seems really obvious, and I can guarantee that I would never have argued against this, but I just didn't always practice it.) Every cookie that I don't eat, I must consciously not eat because I love Jesus more. Every glass of milk I force myself to drink, every moment in the chapel, every donation, every exterior mortification must be motivated by a desire to love Christ with the purest love that I can give Him, even when (and especially when) I don't want to sacrifice.
So while I still think that Lent is an exciting challenge, it is a challenge not because I'm competing, but because I am really not so great and it is a struggle to be virtuous. I'm excited for the struggle, though, not because struggling is fun (that is a ridiculous idea), but because through the struggles I hope to be able to love more and to clean out a better place in my heart for our resurrected Lord.
PS: Also check out Christ in the City's Lenten video series, which may or may not have anything to do with Lent... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7uqeAyCiF0.
But this year, I am making a conscious effort to make Lent about God, or rather to acknowledge the fact that it is about Him. My Lenten resolutions focus on removing the rocks along my path to God and loving Him more. Instead of being a competition, it is quite humbling: I have to first admit to myself that those rocks are there and that I have allowed them to be there. Then I must try to push them out of the way, and subsequently admit that they are not rocks so much as boulders and they are not easy to move.
In his homily, a priest described Lent like this: interior purification through exterior mortification. My exterior mortifications must be about purifying my soul. (Maybe that seems really obvious, and I can guarantee that I would never have argued against this, but I just didn't always practice it.) Every cookie that I don't eat, I must consciously not eat because I love Jesus more. Every glass of milk I force myself to drink, every moment in the chapel, every donation, every exterior mortification must be motivated by a desire to love Christ with the purest love that I can give Him, even when (and especially when) I don't want to sacrifice.
So while I still think that Lent is an exciting challenge, it is a challenge not because I'm competing, but because I am really not so great and it is a struggle to be virtuous. I'm excited for the struggle, though, not because struggling is fun (that is a ridiculous idea), but because through the struggles I hope to be able to love more and to clean out a better place in my heart for our resurrected Lord.
PS: Also check out Christ in the City's Lenten video series, which may or may not have anything to do with Lent... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7uqeAyCiF0.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Superbowl and Sports
Superbowl Sunday. An American tradition. Food, football, and community. It brings out the best of some and the worst of others. Apparently, more Americans watch the game than vote for the president. (So I heard somewhere, check it out for yourself before you cite me.) I left the game this evening pondering a few things. First, who has failed to introduce Beyonce to ENDOW? Second, did the lights go out simply as a ploy to fit in more commercials? Third, would Kantian morality forbid me from eating at a potluck if I didn't bring something to share? (I think so, but I don't live by Kantian morality, so my life isn't too affected.) Fourth, and the question to which I am dedicating this post, what is it about sports that attracts so many? Playing, watching, analyzing, strategizing- we love it all. After a bit of thinking, here are some reasons I've come up with to account for this almost inherent attraction. (Note that I said almost.)
In my humble opinion, the primary reason we are attracted to sports is the analogy that we draw, whether consciously or not, to life. The story of humanity. The struggle of the human heart. We want to win, to be victorious, to gain whatever there is to gain. We practice and practice, we strengthen and condition, we prepare ourselves as much as we can, we strive for perfection. Yet, at game time we always find that we are not perfect yet. We fumbled, we swung and missed, we let a goal in the net. Though we never desire defeat for ourselves, we are still defeated at times. And as crushing as it may feel at the time, we almost always can look back and see that we were able to grow and learn from that defeat. And so we practice more, and strive even more for perfection, and indeed we improve. But we seem to be striving for an infinite, for a perfection that cannot be reached in this life, yet we never doubt is worth striving for.
Sometimes, though, we may choose not to practice, not to prepare ourselves, because it's just too much work. Or we say, "Wow, look how fast that person over there is. I can't run like that, so I guess I shouldn't compete." Or we decide that we're good enough, that we're better than any opponent we could face. Then what happens? We fail. Or we might win, but we aren't really victorious. We aren't as good as we could be. Through lack of effort, or lack of confidence, or over-confidence, we actually step farther away from our ultimate goal. (Thankfully, we have such a good and merciful Coach that He will always take us back, though there is still a privation caused by our past choices that we must fight to overcome.)
I also think that sports promote the whole person- body, mind, and soul. You probably think I'm getting a little carried away right now, but hear me out. Sports are clearly tied to bodily health and fitness; I'm assuming no one is going to try to argue with me on that point. Mentally, we strategize. We think, should we give them a safety in order to waste more time on the clock? Should we start pressing now and risk giving them an easy basket? Should we set our weaker hitter on the outside when they expect us to set our strongest hitter in the middle? We design plays and try to understand our opponent's thinking. We weigh our options and choose the apparent good, and eventually we learn to see if the apparent good is a true good. We learn to follow the logic of the game and to apply that to particular situations. Our minds become sharper, more logical, more informed. Spiritually, we take the principles we learn though the exercise of our bodies and minds and apply them to our souls: discipline, perseverance, and rationality, among others. We understand that suffering has a purpose, and we don't choose to endure pain because it is an end in itself, but rather because it transforms us into the best versions of ourselves. We want the end goal more than we want comfort, and we choose to act in accordance with that.
The last point I will make (though I've thought of more) is that sports manifest our desire for unity and communion. This is why people have parties to watch the Superbowl, or why the stadium is packed for a high school soccer game, or why team sports exist. We want others to share our joy or sorrow. We want to feel as though we are one. The fans identify themselves with a particular team or participant, and after the game will say "we won," as if they are one with the team. The desire for unity pulls us together through thick and thin, and ultimately points to the infinite desire written on our hearts for unity with God.
So, basically, sports are awesome. I'm not saying that everyone needs to go out and join a sports league (though I would highly suggest it). But I am saying that sports teach us about life and help us to live better. And at least once a year, on a wintry Sunday, surrounded by friends and potato chips, America is reminded of the goodness of sports.
PS: Here's a link to a debate that I watched a while ago. It was pretty good and I'd be curious to hear your thoughts on it!
http://www.thomascenter.org/can-the-free-market-adequately-care-for-the-poor/
In my humble opinion, the primary reason we are attracted to sports is the analogy that we draw, whether consciously or not, to life. The story of humanity. The struggle of the human heart. We want to win, to be victorious, to gain whatever there is to gain. We practice and practice, we strengthen and condition, we prepare ourselves as much as we can, we strive for perfection. Yet, at game time we always find that we are not perfect yet. We fumbled, we swung and missed, we let a goal in the net. Though we never desire defeat for ourselves, we are still defeated at times. And as crushing as it may feel at the time, we almost always can look back and see that we were able to grow and learn from that defeat. And so we practice more, and strive even more for perfection, and indeed we improve. But we seem to be striving for an infinite, for a perfection that cannot be reached in this life, yet we never doubt is worth striving for.
Sometimes, though, we may choose not to practice, not to prepare ourselves, because it's just too much work. Or we say, "Wow, look how fast that person over there is. I can't run like that, so I guess I shouldn't compete." Or we decide that we're good enough, that we're better than any opponent we could face. Then what happens? We fail. Or we might win, but we aren't really victorious. We aren't as good as we could be. Through lack of effort, or lack of confidence, or over-confidence, we actually step farther away from our ultimate goal. (Thankfully, we have such a good and merciful Coach that He will always take us back, though there is still a privation caused by our past choices that we must fight to overcome.)
I also think that sports promote the whole person- body, mind, and soul. You probably think I'm getting a little carried away right now, but hear me out. Sports are clearly tied to bodily health and fitness; I'm assuming no one is going to try to argue with me on that point. Mentally, we strategize. We think, should we give them a safety in order to waste more time on the clock? Should we start pressing now and risk giving them an easy basket? Should we set our weaker hitter on the outside when they expect us to set our strongest hitter in the middle? We design plays and try to understand our opponent's thinking. We weigh our options and choose the apparent good, and eventually we learn to see if the apparent good is a true good. We learn to follow the logic of the game and to apply that to particular situations. Our minds become sharper, more logical, more informed. Spiritually, we take the principles we learn though the exercise of our bodies and minds and apply them to our souls: discipline, perseverance, and rationality, among others. We understand that suffering has a purpose, and we don't choose to endure pain because it is an end in itself, but rather because it transforms us into the best versions of ourselves. We want the end goal more than we want comfort, and we choose to act in accordance with that.
The last point I will make (though I've thought of more) is that sports manifest our desire for unity and communion. This is why people have parties to watch the Superbowl, or why the stadium is packed for a high school soccer game, or why team sports exist. We want others to share our joy or sorrow. We want to feel as though we are one. The fans identify themselves with a particular team or participant, and after the game will say "we won," as if they are one with the team. The desire for unity pulls us together through thick and thin, and ultimately points to the infinite desire written on our hearts for unity with God.
So, basically, sports are awesome. I'm not saying that everyone needs to go out and join a sports league (though I would highly suggest it). But I am saying that sports teach us about life and help us to live better. And at least once a year, on a wintry Sunday, surrounded by friends and potato chips, America is reminded of the goodness of sports.
PS: Here's a link to a debate that I watched a while ago. It was pretty good and I'd be curious to hear your thoughts on it!
http://www.thomascenter.org/can-the-free-market-adequately-care-for-the-poor/
Monday, January 14, 2013
What it's like to be me
Since coming back to Denver a week ago from my break, I have been really refreshed and energetic, which made me think, Wow, why isn't life always like this? So I decided (for myself as much as for you) to paint a picture of what a normal day is like for me- not just what I do, but what it's really like to be me.
6:15. The alarm clock goes off. Some days you hear it, some days you don't. Today you hear it. You hit snooze really fast, then lay in bed thinking, Come on, will. You can do it. You can choose to get up. You can...
6:20. The alarm goes off again. You quickly turn if off, take a deep breath, then roll out of bed. You can't really think clearly yet. You try your best not to complain in your mind, but rather to think about how thankful you are. But mostly you just don't think. You try to spit out a "good morning" to your roommate as you get ready for the day, but you're not sure it's quite intelligible.
6:39:30. You put on your shoes, grab your keys and a coat, and rush downstairs with the other nine women. Genuflecting as you pass Jesus in the chapel, you head out the door with everyone and are greeted by a frigid, dark morning. If you weren't awake before, you have no option now. You look up to the sky and try to find a star, and smile on the inside when you do, because it doesn't seem worth the energy to smile on the outside yet. You start talking to your teammate walking beside you, and you start to remember what makes it worth getting up when you are as sleep-deprived as you are. A few blocks later, you arrive at the Cathedral.
7:00. Mass begins. Though some days you struggle to stay awake every time you sit in the pew, today you're pretty excited because you only struggled once. You receive the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of God. Wow. Real life. You decide to re-start this day with a better attitude than you had earlier this morning.
7:40. You saunter casually back home, singing to yourself and thinking about how great life is. You walk in the back door to find your teammates smiling, laughing, preparing breakfast, and setting the table. You join them, but you don't take off your coat yet because it's kind of cold in the house right now. Shortly after, breakfast begins, and the long table is filled with people reaching for a box of Silly Circles (off-brand Cheerios, in case you aren't familiar with them), shouting to someone across the table, or laughing about a dream they had. Someone sniffs the milk and announces that it's fine for another day or two.
8:20. One of the guys asks if he can take your plate for you. You're really glad that we have such awesome guys. You figure it's probably time to start cleaning up, so you help clear the table. You are still tired and you know that there won't really be any free time for the next week, and that little voice inside your head says, You don't have to help with dishes. It's not your chore. They can do it themselves. At this point in life, you're pretty familiar with that little voice. So you grab a towel and start drying dishes. Someone turns on some music, and it's more fun... But you are still only doing dishes by a sheer act of the will.
8:50. You grab a few carrots, a donated sandwich, a couple bus passes, and a book, then head out the door. You're going to the Gabriel House today. As you walk the few blocks to the bus stop, you pull out your phone and leave a voicemail for a friend, then you decide your hand gets too cold to be making phone calls right now. You try to say hello to those you walk past. When you arrive at the bus stop, you get excited that you won't have to wait since the bus is already pulling up. You hop on, take a seat, and start reading. As the bus approaches your stop, you find yourself thinking, I wouldn't mind just staying on the bus and reading all day... But you get off anyway.
9:30. You greet the women you work with, put your lunch in the fridge, and head to the back room. A donor left a few bags of clothes, so you open one and start sorting. It's actually kind of relaxing. The woman working in the front room brings back a couple folders with a list of the items the women need, so you assemble bags of things for them and bring them out. You start talking with the women, and soon you are working the front room instead of the back room. A woman enters. "Hola, cómo está?" you ask. She replies, "Fine, and you?" A little embarrassing that you tried to speak Spanish when she spoke perfect English, but no big deal. You pass on the list of things she needs to the volunteer in the back.
1:00. After lunch, your day only gets busier. Today all the other workers and volunteers have left except the director. On the desk lie a referral form you need to email, a post-it with names to be put on the waiting list for specific items, and a couple application forms that need files created. Your mental to-do list is packed with things you need to get done today and things you'd love to organize at some point. But for now, there are three mothers, a father, and six children in the front room. You try to work quickly so you don't keep them waiting too long, and you've learned that you feel stressed when a lot of people are waiting. But you're thinking about how to balance that with being a missionary to them and not just a resource for material assistance. You're still not sure where that line is.
3:00. You lock the house, and although it's been a good day, you're relieved to be able to finally do some of the things you didn't get done all day. You email, alphabetize, clean, and organize, and you conclude it's worth staying a little late today to work on one of those projects you've been envisioning completing.
4:15. You head out, feeling accomplished now that all the bottles and pacifiers are in order. After waiting a few minutes, you get on a crowded bus and find a seat. It doesn't take long till your head's doing that ever so recognizable I'm-sleeping-but-I'm-trying-to-stay-awake nod. The bus comes to a stop, and you look at the street sign just in time to get off at your stop.
5:00. You rush in the door, set down your things, and head to the chapel for evening prayer. You're pretty glad you live in the same house as Jesus. You want to stay in the chapel for a while longer, but there's a guest coming to dinner. You help get ready for dinner while discussing the day with a couple other missionaries. Everyone takes their place, and you put on your "Totus Tuus" mindset. (If you don't know what that means, I'm not about to explain, so pretend I didn't say that.) You take turns with the other missionaries talking about your life while passing around plates of tortillas, rice, meat, etc. You try to listen as the guest describes his life, but you are at the end of the table and can't really hear much.
6:30. After dinner, you and another teammate start washing dishes, this time because it is your chore. You're thankful that other teammates have stayed to help you. You remind yourself what a blessing it is to be able to serve your community members by washing their dishes. You remind yourself that this is your path to holiness. You remind yourself that you are choosing to wash dishes.
7:00. You find people hanging out, and you sit around and talk. This is one of your favorite parts of the day- just being with your community. You check your mailbox. Meh, you think, I never got mail in college either. You check the washer, but someone else is using it right now. You could clean your room, but you'd rather not. You just relax.
9:00. Night prayer begins. It only takes about 10 minutes, but then you stay and pray because you didn't get any personal prayer time today. You are once again very glad that you live in the same house as Jesus. Then you walk around the common space again to see if anything is going on- you kind of have fomo (fear of missing out).
10:00. You head upstairs, put on some comfy clothes, and fire up the ol' laptop. You check your various accounts, and you also send some emails for Christ in the City. You create a to-do list for the rest of the week, but you know you probably won't do them all. You think about working out, with absolutely no intention of doing so right now. You realize you only drank one glass of water all day, and you didn't eat any fruit. You take some vitamin C and vow to stay more hydrated tomorrow. You find other women on the floor, and start chatting without realizing what time it is. Well, sometimes you realize what time it is, but you just choose not to think about it.
11:30. You are really tired. You are really tired. Your body is exhausted and your mind is exhausted. It's time, you decide, and you get ready for bed, careful not to make too much noise. You crawl into bed, almost as pathetically as you crawled out of bed in the morning. You are truly thankful for your day, and for the day you'll have tomorrow, but you're glad it won't start for another six hours or so. You say a few more prayers, and the next thing you know, it's the start of another day.
6:15. The alarm clock goes off. Some days you hear it, some days you don't. Today you hear it. You hit snooze really fast, then lay in bed thinking, Come on, will. You can do it. You can choose to get up. You can...
6:20. The alarm goes off again. You quickly turn if off, take a deep breath, then roll out of bed. You can't really think clearly yet. You try your best not to complain in your mind, but rather to think about how thankful you are. But mostly you just don't think. You try to spit out a "good morning" to your roommate as you get ready for the day, but you're not sure it's quite intelligible.
6:39:30. You put on your shoes, grab your keys and a coat, and rush downstairs with the other nine women. Genuflecting as you pass Jesus in the chapel, you head out the door with everyone and are greeted by a frigid, dark morning. If you weren't awake before, you have no option now. You look up to the sky and try to find a star, and smile on the inside when you do, because it doesn't seem worth the energy to smile on the outside yet. You start talking to your teammate walking beside you, and you start to remember what makes it worth getting up when you are as sleep-deprived as you are. A few blocks later, you arrive at the Cathedral.
7:00. Mass begins. Though some days you struggle to stay awake every time you sit in the pew, today you're pretty excited because you only struggled once. You receive the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of God. Wow. Real life. You decide to re-start this day with a better attitude than you had earlier this morning.
7:40. You saunter casually back home, singing to yourself and thinking about how great life is. You walk in the back door to find your teammates smiling, laughing, preparing breakfast, and setting the table. You join them, but you don't take off your coat yet because it's kind of cold in the house right now. Shortly after, breakfast begins, and the long table is filled with people reaching for a box of Silly Circles (off-brand Cheerios, in case you aren't familiar with them), shouting to someone across the table, or laughing about a dream they had. Someone sniffs the milk and announces that it's fine for another day or two.
8:20. One of the guys asks if he can take your plate for you. You're really glad that we have such awesome guys. You figure it's probably time to start cleaning up, so you help clear the table. You are still tired and you know that there won't really be any free time for the next week, and that little voice inside your head says, You don't have to help with dishes. It's not your chore. They can do it themselves. At this point in life, you're pretty familiar with that little voice. So you grab a towel and start drying dishes. Someone turns on some music, and it's more fun... But you are still only doing dishes by a sheer act of the will.
8:50. You grab a few carrots, a donated sandwich, a couple bus passes, and a book, then head out the door. You're going to the Gabriel House today. As you walk the few blocks to the bus stop, you pull out your phone and leave a voicemail for a friend, then you decide your hand gets too cold to be making phone calls right now. You try to say hello to those you walk past. When you arrive at the bus stop, you get excited that you won't have to wait since the bus is already pulling up. You hop on, take a seat, and start reading. As the bus approaches your stop, you find yourself thinking, I wouldn't mind just staying on the bus and reading all day... But you get off anyway.
9:30. You greet the women you work with, put your lunch in the fridge, and head to the back room. A donor left a few bags of clothes, so you open one and start sorting. It's actually kind of relaxing. The woman working in the front room brings back a couple folders with a list of the items the women need, so you assemble bags of things for them and bring them out. You start talking with the women, and soon you are working the front room instead of the back room. A woman enters. "Hola, cómo está?" you ask. She replies, "Fine, and you?" A little embarrassing that you tried to speak Spanish when she spoke perfect English, but no big deal. You pass on the list of things she needs to the volunteer in the back.
1:00. After lunch, your day only gets busier. Today all the other workers and volunteers have left except the director. On the desk lie a referral form you need to email, a post-it with names to be put on the waiting list for specific items, and a couple application forms that need files created. Your mental to-do list is packed with things you need to get done today and things you'd love to organize at some point. But for now, there are three mothers, a father, and six children in the front room. You try to work quickly so you don't keep them waiting too long, and you've learned that you feel stressed when a lot of people are waiting. But you're thinking about how to balance that with being a missionary to them and not just a resource for material assistance. You're still not sure where that line is.
3:00. You lock the house, and although it's been a good day, you're relieved to be able to finally do some of the things you didn't get done all day. You email, alphabetize, clean, and organize, and you conclude it's worth staying a little late today to work on one of those projects you've been envisioning completing.
4:15. You head out, feeling accomplished now that all the bottles and pacifiers are in order. After waiting a few minutes, you get on a crowded bus and find a seat. It doesn't take long till your head's doing that ever so recognizable I'm-sleeping-but-I'm-trying-to-stay-awake nod. The bus comes to a stop, and you look at the street sign just in time to get off at your stop.
5:00. You rush in the door, set down your things, and head to the chapel for evening prayer. You're pretty glad you live in the same house as Jesus. You want to stay in the chapel for a while longer, but there's a guest coming to dinner. You help get ready for dinner while discussing the day with a couple other missionaries. Everyone takes their place, and you put on your "Totus Tuus" mindset. (If you don't know what that means, I'm not about to explain, so pretend I didn't say that.) You take turns with the other missionaries talking about your life while passing around plates of tortillas, rice, meat, etc. You try to listen as the guest describes his life, but you are at the end of the table and can't really hear much.
6:30. After dinner, you and another teammate start washing dishes, this time because it is your chore. You're thankful that other teammates have stayed to help you. You remind yourself what a blessing it is to be able to serve your community members by washing their dishes. You remind yourself that this is your path to holiness. You remind yourself that you are choosing to wash dishes.
7:00. You find people hanging out, and you sit around and talk. This is one of your favorite parts of the day- just being with your community. You check your mailbox. Meh, you think, I never got mail in college either. You check the washer, but someone else is using it right now. You could clean your room, but you'd rather not. You just relax.
9:00. Night prayer begins. It only takes about 10 minutes, but then you stay and pray because you didn't get any personal prayer time today. You are once again very glad that you live in the same house as Jesus. Then you walk around the common space again to see if anything is going on- you kind of have fomo (fear of missing out).
10:00. You head upstairs, put on some comfy clothes, and fire up the ol' laptop. You check your various accounts, and you also send some emails for Christ in the City. You create a to-do list for the rest of the week, but you know you probably won't do them all. You think about working out, with absolutely no intention of doing so right now. You realize you only drank one glass of water all day, and you didn't eat any fruit. You take some vitamin C and vow to stay more hydrated tomorrow. You find other women on the floor, and start chatting without realizing what time it is. Well, sometimes you realize what time it is, but you just choose not to think about it.
11:30. You are really tired. You are really tired. Your body is exhausted and your mind is exhausted. It's time, you decide, and you get ready for bed, careful not to make too much noise. You crawl into bed, almost as pathetically as you crawled out of bed in the morning. You are truly thankful for your day, and for the day you'll have tomorrow, but you're glad it won't start for another six hours or so. You say a few more prayers, and the next thing you know, it's the start of another day.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
A few of my people
Since I haven't written anything in almost a month, maybe you think I've given up on blogging. Maybe you think I broke my laptop, and now have no access to Blogspot to be able to post. Maybe you think I quit Christ in the City. Maybe you think I've become a hermit. Let me assure you, if you are thinking any of these things, you are wrong. But if you are thinking that maybe I tried getting sleep for a change, or maybe I want to spend less time on my computer and more time with people, or maybe Christ in the City just keeps me super busy, then let me assure you, you are indeed correct. It's been pretty crazy since Thanksgiving- we've hosted a fundraising breakfast, helped with a different fundraising event, finished our basketball season, watched the Parade of Lights, held a 48 Hour Lock-In/Christmas Party for homeless youth and young adults, welcomed the new Church year with an all-night adoration vigil, and decorated multiple buildings for Christmas. (So good luck trying to make me to put up a Christmas tree when I get home, Mom.) Today was my last day of actual service before break, so I want to introduce you to some of the people I've met. (And for the record, I'll probably be changing all of their names.)
First, there's Guadalupe and her sons Jorge (6 months) and Isaiah (8). Guadalupe is one of the moms who comes to the Gabriel House for assistance, but she also comes to volunteer. Jorge comes with her; we've nicknamed him the house baby. Isaiah comes when he doesn't have school and is pretty much my shadow the entire time. He tries to be very helpful, and is so considerate of the moms and kids we serve. ("We should give them some gloves in case they get cold," or, "I think she would like this sweater.") He likes to try to translate for me sometimes. Once he thought he was translating, but after about 3 minutes of conversation, he realized that I was speaking Spanish, and he was actually just repeating what I was saying. Guadalupe also has a 14-year-old son and 2 nieces who live with her. She and a couple of her sons are in Mexico now visiting Guadalupe's husband, so please pray for their safety.
Then there's Fr. Moore, who is originally from Poland and was ordained when Pope John Paul II was bishop there. He now lives at the Mullen Home and illumines the lives of all those around him. When I ask how he is doing, he always responds with "Better now that I see you!" He is so full of life- even in his old age, he makes me think of what JPII must have been like. I'm convinced that he will be a saint.
At the Sam House, I've been blessed to get to know Shirley pretty well. She is going through RCIA right now, and never misses a bible study. Though she's had a lot of difficulties in her life, she is doing really well now- working, looking for housing, growing in many ways. A Dominican brother gave her a rosary, and it has become her comfort. I've watched her transform within the past few months into a more joyful, more peaceful, more confident Shirley. Her desire to always help others gives hope to struggling residents who come to her.
Though I've only met her twice, I also want you to know Bailey. She first walked into the Gabriel House a little too confidently and independently for a 16-year-old: she had no parent or guardian with her and had never been there before. I can guess that she's probably been through a lot in those 16 years. She is pregnant with her first child, due in February I believe. She has a lot of spunk, and has many hopes and dreams for her future. She refused any assistance other than material- she doesn't really want help, just things. Please pray for Bailey and her little unborn baby!
Lastly, there's Tyrone, whom I met at one of our Saturday lunches in the park. He is a poet, and can recite his poems all day if you stay and listen to him. His poems are actually pretty good. They're mostly short, but they express the depth of his thoughts and emotions. He's trying to self-publish a book of poetry right now. He understands very well that his role is to guard and protect women- his sister, his mother, his 12 month old daughter. He religion-hops, including Catholicism, Protestantism, Buddhism, and some other religion I've never heard of. And I've heard of a lot of religions. He thinks of God in a very pantheistic way, but I don't think he means to be a pantheist. He spends his days on the streets reciting poetry, hoping to make some money and inspire some souls. He's had a long and rugged past, but is generally working toward a better future, especially now that he has a daughter to provide for.
As different as all of these people are from each other, from you, from me, they are more similar than different: they are all persons with value and dignity, created by God who loves them eternally. (In the words of Fulton Sheen, "we consider all the world as dust and ashes compared with the value of one human soul." Or something like that.) They are all longing to be united with Him, whether they know it or not. They are all awaiting an infinite joy, which is coming in the disguise of a tiny child, simple and humble. This Advent, let's pray for those who, like the Christ child, have nowhere to rest their heads at night. But let's also pray for those whose hearts are restless and have nowhere to find peace and joy.
First, there's Guadalupe and her sons Jorge (6 months) and Isaiah (8). Guadalupe is one of the moms who comes to the Gabriel House for assistance, but she also comes to volunteer. Jorge comes with her; we've nicknamed him the house baby. Isaiah comes when he doesn't have school and is pretty much my shadow the entire time. He tries to be very helpful, and is so considerate of the moms and kids we serve. ("We should give them some gloves in case they get cold," or, "I think she would like this sweater.") He likes to try to translate for me sometimes. Once he thought he was translating, but after about 3 minutes of conversation, he realized that I was speaking Spanish, and he was actually just repeating what I was saying. Guadalupe also has a 14-year-old son and 2 nieces who live with her. She and a couple of her sons are in Mexico now visiting Guadalupe's husband, so please pray for their safety.
Then there's Fr. Moore, who is originally from Poland and was ordained when Pope John Paul II was bishop there. He now lives at the Mullen Home and illumines the lives of all those around him. When I ask how he is doing, he always responds with "Better now that I see you!" He is so full of life- even in his old age, he makes me think of what JPII must have been like. I'm convinced that he will be a saint.
At the Sam House, I've been blessed to get to know Shirley pretty well. She is going through RCIA right now, and never misses a bible study. Though she's had a lot of difficulties in her life, she is doing really well now- working, looking for housing, growing in many ways. A Dominican brother gave her a rosary, and it has become her comfort. I've watched her transform within the past few months into a more joyful, more peaceful, more confident Shirley. Her desire to always help others gives hope to struggling residents who come to her.
Though I've only met her twice, I also want you to know Bailey. She first walked into the Gabriel House a little too confidently and independently for a 16-year-old: she had no parent or guardian with her and had never been there before. I can guess that she's probably been through a lot in those 16 years. She is pregnant with her first child, due in February I believe. She has a lot of spunk, and has many hopes and dreams for her future. She refused any assistance other than material- she doesn't really want help, just things. Please pray for Bailey and her little unborn baby!
Lastly, there's Tyrone, whom I met at one of our Saturday lunches in the park. He is a poet, and can recite his poems all day if you stay and listen to him. His poems are actually pretty good. They're mostly short, but they express the depth of his thoughts and emotions. He's trying to self-publish a book of poetry right now. He understands very well that his role is to guard and protect women- his sister, his mother, his 12 month old daughter. He religion-hops, including Catholicism, Protestantism, Buddhism, and some other religion I've never heard of. And I've heard of a lot of religions. He thinks of God in a very pantheistic way, but I don't think he means to be a pantheist. He spends his days on the streets reciting poetry, hoping to make some money and inspire some souls. He's had a long and rugged past, but is generally working toward a better future, especially now that he has a daughter to provide for.
As different as all of these people are from each other, from you, from me, they are more similar than different: they are all persons with value and dignity, created by God who loves them eternally. (In the words of Fulton Sheen, "we consider all the world as dust and ashes compared with the value of one human soul." Or something like that.) They are all longing to be united with Him, whether they know it or not. They are all awaiting an infinite joy, which is coming in the disguise of a tiny child, simple and humble. This Advent, let's pray for those who, like the Christ child, have nowhere to rest their heads at night. But let's also pray for those whose hearts are restless and have nowhere to find peace and joy.
Friday, November 16, 2012
When there's nothing else to blog about...
Have you ever experienced that moment when you suddenly realize you haven't posted a blog in almost 2 weeks, you are out of witty ideas, and there have been no significant events in your recent life to talk about? I hadn't either, till today. Since I've got nothing else to blog about, I'll just tell you about some of the other moments I've experienced lately.
-That moment when you are holding a baby and someone starts asking questions about him as if he is yours...
-That moment when you realize that all three of the elderly women playing Wii bowling just beat your personal high score...
-That moment when your greatest joy is that everyone sang a hymn to the same melody...
-That moment when you and a group of missionaries Google Street View your homes, and you realize you're probably the only one in the house who grew up in a cornfield...
-That moment when you find yourself using "Google Street View" as a verb...
-That moment when it's 10 minutes before you're about to talk to a bunch of lawyers, and you're not quite sure what you're about to say...
-That moment when you start winning your made-up game of Guess-What-Size-The-Baby-Clothes-Are-Before-You-Check-The-Tag...
-That moment when you feel so accomplished for implementing an organized system for donated kids' shoes (aka put them in a bag and write the size on the bag)...
-That moment when you are told to find a magazine picture depicting where you want to be, and you decide on the picture you want before noticing that the caption says "A Nebraska Adventure"...
-That moment when you realize that Thanksgiving is less than a week away...
-That moment when you squirt grapefruit juice all over yourself and the person beside you, and you remember why you don't eat grapefruits that often...
-That moment when you realize that you're the one falling asleep playing Chinese Checkers, while the elderly are awake and alert...
-That moment when you learn just how many times you must have watched Remember the Titans when you were younger, cause you can still quote most of the movie after several years...
-That moment when you know how many diapers are in your hand, give or take one, without having to count them...
-That moment when a lawyer asks you what you think people's views are towards the homeless in this city, and you find that you actually do have an opinion for him...
-That moment when you're happily sleeping in the car, and you wake up because your ears are popping due to altitude changes...
-That moment when you come home from a run to find confessions going on in the front room...
-That moment when you begin to understand why people who don't ski still come to the mountains in the winter. Let me demonstrate for you... [photo credit to Liv]
-That moment when you are holding a baby and someone starts asking questions about him as if he is yours...
-That moment when you realize that all three of the elderly women playing Wii bowling just beat your personal high score...
-That moment when your greatest joy is that everyone sang a hymn to the same melody...
-That moment when you and a group of missionaries Google Street View your homes, and you realize you're probably the only one in the house who grew up in a cornfield...
-That moment when you find yourself using "Google Street View" as a verb...
-That moment when it's 10 minutes before you're about to talk to a bunch of lawyers, and you're not quite sure what you're about to say...
-That moment when you start winning your made-up game of Guess-What-Size-The-Baby-Clothes-Are-Before-You-Check-The-Tag...
-That moment when you feel so accomplished for implementing an organized system for donated kids' shoes (aka put them in a bag and write the size on the bag)...
-That moment when you are told to find a magazine picture depicting where you want to be, and you decide on the picture you want before noticing that the caption says "A Nebraska Adventure"...
-That moment when you realize that Thanksgiving is less than a week away...
-That moment when you squirt grapefruit juice all over yourself and the person beside you, and you remember why you don't eat grapefruits that often...
-That moment when you realize that you're the one falling asleep playing Chinese Checkers, while the elderly are awake and alert...
-That moment when you learn just how many times you must have watched Remember the Titans when you were younger, cause you can still quote most of the movie after several years...
-That moment when you know how many diapers are in your hand, give or take one, without having to count them...
-That moment when a lawyer asks you what you think people's views are towards the homeless in this city, and you find that you actually do have an opinion for him...
-That moment when you're happily sleeping in the car, and you wake up because your ears are popping due to altitude changes...
-That moment when you come home from a run to find confessions going on in the front room...
-That moment when you begin to understand why people who don't ski still come to the mountains in the winter. Let me demonstrate for you... [photo credit to Liv]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)