Hanging On to the Best

I sometimes read the blog of a nurse who was working in West Africa with Mercy Ships. She’s now moving on to other adventures after spending several weeks in first world countries catching up with friends and family. Anyway, something she wrote recently caught my eye and put words to a lot of what I’ve been feeling during my time in the US this year. I don’t know what’s legal and what’s not as far as “publishing” what someone else has written when it comes to blogging, so I’ll paraphrase what she said instead of quoting it exactly. She said that she’s more afraid that she’ll lose her acute awareness of how out of touch with perspective so many in the first world are than she is of having to live with that awareness (which she referred to as guilt, actually); she said that she’s afraid she’ll become like so many who walk our streets and spend so much time and energy worrying about how many calories are in that over-priced latte and never once think about how many pounds of rice that money could buy in the third world (note: I am not judging people who buy over-priced lattes as that would be terribly hypocritical considering I have a definite weakness for delicious coffee myself; I’m talking perspective here). She said that losing this awareness would be losing the best part of herself.

I’ve now been home one month, and I’m determined to hang on to this awareness that I first really and truly experienced in Guatemala and then developed more acutely in Tanzania. And, you know, I really don’t think it’ll be too terribly hard for me to hang on to it; I actually think it would be harder for me to get rid of it because it is part of me now—part of who I am and part of who I want to be. I want to think of Bahati every time I make chapatis, my host family in Carchá every time I play Dutch Blitz, and my host family in Mexico City every time I sing “Caminemos en la Luz de Díos.” I want my first thought when someone says something about the game Follow the Leader to be of Sonnie, Cody, and the streets of Chichicastenango; I hope cemeteries always lead to thoughts of the bullet hole-ridden tombstones of the National Cemetery in Guatemala City in front of which people who crossed those in power were executed during the 36 years of civil war…and then I want those memories to lead to thoughts of the landfill and Zona 3 which neighbor the cemetery; playgrounds will always make me think of the hours spent pushing children on the swings at the City of Hope; I hope worship services without heart-felt dancing won’t ever seem quite complete; I pray that the song “Days of Elijah” will always take me back to a jeep filled with new friends bouncing down an unpaved road in the jungle of Alta Verapaz, Guatemala and that “Come Thou Fount” will always remind me of a welcoming church in the middle of that jungle and the circle of children who played with bubbles with us; no stunning sky will ever be able to compete with the one God spread over Tanzania, and I don’t think there could be more beautiful mountains than the ones in Guatemala. And I pray that hospitality will always remind me of the people and places who have stolen my heart--the many, many people who have so little and give so much, from welcoming, friendship, love, and acceptance to chai/coke and chapatis/tortillas, and I also pray that I will always offer that same hospitality to the people I encounter.

And, above all, I pray that all of these memories will not only stick with me close to the surface but will also make me live more intentionally no matter where I am and that God will not only allow me to make more memories but will also give me opportunities to share the memories.

Chai helps

I've been back in the US for nearly two weeks now. I thought coming back at Christmastime would make things easier because I love Christmas. I'm not sure I was right about that, but tonight I made Kenyan chai to go with my birthday dinner, and it somehow helped I think. It made me think about all the experiences at the City of Hope and the friends I have there, friends that I'm really missing right now; it made me think about all the children who come through the City of Hope and how fun, talented, beautiful, and...ordained by God for greatness they are and how much I love them all; it made me think of the team that's still there working so hard to make the world a better place for the people of Ntagatcha; it made me wonder what I'm doing here and what I'm supposed to be doing over this next year or so.

Shortly after my return I stopped by my university to talk to a professor of mine from nursing school. During our chat I realized that I spent more time outside the US in 2010 than I did inside the US...and that I prefer it that way. She described it as feeling that her soul was drying up when she's in the US for too long, and that's exactly it. So why am I here now? Why has God called me here for now after breaking my heart so thoroughly for both Guatemala and Tanzania? And why does it still have to hurt so much? But, you know, the fact of the matter is that He has called me here for now. He didn't say it would be easy, but He has promised to give His children His strength and His joy and His passion. And I believe Him because He's the Living God, and I'm his daughter! Besides, as Paul said, our circumstances have nothing to do with our joy because our joy doesn't (or shouldn't) come from our circumstances; he said that he could be joyful in chains and in freedom, in wealth and in poverty, in hunger and in satisfaction, so surely I can be joyful in the mountains of VA! I'm a nurse; that hasn't changed even if my mission field has for the time being. So, with the strength God gives me, I'm going to work as a nurse, and I'll put a smile on my face, some pep in my step, and my whole heart into it! I'll be an ambassador for Christ, not in chains, but in scrubs!!

Oh my goodness, I'm in AFRICA!!??

Wow! So I've been in Africa a little over a week, and I'm totally and completely in love already. This place is so beautiful, and so are the people. I love how you can't walk down the street without a bunch of precious African children coming out, saying hi, and holding your hand while you walk for a while. I also love how I know that this is exactly where I'm supposed to be right now. It is so incredible! And I've done basically a little bit of everything from rasslin' barbed wire to digging holes with a machete to learning to make chapatis to nursing and playing with children...and Rook...lots and lots of Rook. :) We've been busy!

So, I had all these things that I was excited to write in here, and now I, of course, can't remember most of them. But one story that must be shared is the story of how 125-pound Amy broke a trailer that was supposed to be able to hold a ton...by sitting on it. Seriously! So, we were using a small trailer to haul rocks and water because we were building a barbed-wire fence around one of our fields, and we were using this power-tiller engine thing (I don't really know) to pull the trailer (this is Africa!). One guy on our team, Daniel, jumped onto the side rail on the back, and I was told to jump up onto the other side rail to help counter the weight. So, I did. I don't even remember feeling my butt hit the rail because it London Bridge-d and bent basically in half. After inspecting the damage, it was determined that the thing was going to break (and was, in fact, already half broken when I jumped onto it) anyway. I was just the straw that broke the camel's back. A couple of the guys here came up to me and were like, "The metal, it was no good. You are not heavy. The metal, it was no good." And Kyle said that the metal they used to make the trailer was fit to be a door and basically nothing else. It was just really funny that, of all the people who have ridden in the trailer, it was Daniel and I (the two lightest ones) who broke it. Basically the fat joke of the year. :)

The Most Me

So, I started this blog ages ago (and by ages I mean about a month), and now I'm going to finish it with some minor changes, additions, and adjustments.

I had a realization earlier this summer, but first let me explain something.

I worked as the camp nurse at the summer camp where I've worked the past 7 summers. I love camp; it's one of my very favorite places on earth and will always have a special place in my heart. I'd never camp nursed before, but I loved it so much! TOkay, now for the realization. Before going to Guatemala, camp was always the place where I was able to be the most me. Something about the people and the atmosphere just let me open up and be completely me in a way that no other place would allow or nurture. That's probably one of the reasons why I love it so much, though I just realized this a couple of years ago. Initially I loved (and still love) camp because it combines three of my favorite things in the whole wide world: Jesus, kids, and running around outside. Then, last semester, I went to Guatemala, and it stole my heart. Camp felt different this year. Not bad different-- I still love camp and always will--just different, and hopefully this summer wasn't the end of my camp employment days. But I realized that last semester Guatemala became the place where I was the most me. Now I'm preparing for a month in Tanzania, and I'm so excited about it! But I'm also a little nervous that it's going to steal my heart like Guatemala did. Or, well, I was afraid of that. Now I've just come to terms with the fact that that's probably going to happen, and I'm ready for it. One of my friends described it as being the same as parents with their kids; when they have one and are about to have the second they wonder how they'll ever love another one the way they love the first one. But somehow they do; they find out that there's room in their heart to love not just one or two but innumerable people and places. I'm not being "disloyal" to Guatemala. And, I'm not expecting Tanzania to be Guatemala. In fact, I don't have expectations other than to be used and awed and poured out and broken and a blesser and blessed. I'm ready to go into this month able to give of all of me and ready to teach and be taught, serve and allow others to serve, too. I'm ready to join Tanzania for a month and let God do what He will. And it's going to be awesome.

Isaiah 6.

Service and Family

I saw the most perfect picture of service a human can offer last week. We had foot washing at the Maundy Thursday service, and one little boy there offered to wash all of our feet; he just went down the line and washed our feet. And then he wouldn´t let us wash his. He lowered himself to what would´ve been considered the position of a servant and chose to keep himself there instead of letting us switch places with him. But, that´s not even the whole picture that I´m talking about. We went to the church in the city to serve them and bless them and do things for them, but I don´t know that that really happened. Yeah, we painted their church and sang for them (they all think we sing like angels! where they get that idea is still so far beyond me I´d need a NASA telescope to see it!) and spent time with them, but I´m pretty positive that we were a heck of a lot more blessed by them than they were by us. They opened their homes to us and gave us beds to sleep in and fed us...a lot. Seriously, we were never hungry. Even if we said we weren´t hungry they´d buy food (usually pan dulce) anyway and put it in front of us. And if we wanted something they didn´t have, they´d go buy it. Another thing, one night I asked where I could buy a phone card to call home since I hadn´t done that yet this semester, and, not only did my dad go out and buy one but, when said card didn´t work, our mom pulled out her cell phone and had all four of us call our US families. And she offered her phone to us every night after that, giving us the option of calling again. Do you know how expensive it is to call the US from Mexico? Pretty darn. And they refused to accept repayment for the cards and calls. Reading over this I realize how inadequate these words are to describe what we experienced last week, but they definitely showed us what it is to be the Body of Christ.

I mentioned above my US family, and I realize that, to some extent, I really do have to diferintiate now. Obviously, my family in the US is my first/main/however you want to put it FAMILY, and they always will be. I have 22 years with them that nothing and no one else can compete with. But, I now also have two families in Guatemala and two families in Mexico, and they´re family, too. When we were leaving Mexico City Sunday afternoon, we all gathered in a big circle and held hands, praying, singing, and sharing together one last time. Looking around that room, I saw my family grow yet again. Maybe we don´t share the same culture, language, or ancestry, and maybe we only had a week together but we´re united by our faith and that week of memories. And, like my brother in Coban, Guatemala said, if we don´t see each other again here on earth, we´ll see each other in Heaven because we´re brothers and sisters. And there, any barriers that may come between us here will be nonexistant.

Mexico and Moments

So, I´d be lying if I said that I was excited to leave Guatemala and come to Mexico. I´d be lying if I said that I had a great attitude about it and immediately fell in love with Mexico like I did with Guatemala. I´d be lying if I said that I never held the wealth of this community against them. But, I´d also be lying if I said that I haven´t grown from this experience and learned some important things.

It really hurt to leave Guatemala, and, for a while, I felt as if a huge part of my heart was still there. Have you ever felt as if part of your heart was somewhere else? Not fun. But last night, Mexico and I had a moment. My brother and I went for a run yesterday evening, and the sun was setting over the snow-capped mountains and volcanoes that surround this city; it was beautiful, and God and I had a nice little conversation while I was running. After running the track for a while, we left to go back home stopping on the way to run up the 200-ish steps to one of the 365 (literally) churches. It was pretty hard, but the view at the top was awesome. The whole city was stretched out in front of us with the aforementioned snow-capped beauties standing sentinal and the sky a rosy-pink-turned-brilliant-orange overhead. In those moments (when I thought I was maybe dying), I fell a little bit in love with Mexico. Not the way I did with Guatemala--a different kind of love, but, regardless, God took a wrecking ball to the walls I´d put up agains Mexico.

Another thought from today: first of all, Lent in a predominantly Catholic country is very loud. Every Thursday and Friday around 6am people begin setting off bomb-sized fireworks in our street, and the Church bells (remember, there are 365 Churches here) start going crazy. This morning, as I was lying in bed being very ethnocentric in my thoughts of, "Lent in the US is so much quieter!" I put in my ipod. One of the songs that played was "For The Moments I Feel Faint," and the line that really stood out to me this morning says, "so I take my insufficiencies and place them in Your hands." I had to marvel again about a perfect God Who would want my insufficiencies. But He does! He uses my weaknesses for His strength, and that´s a good thought for me as I apply for and pray about service terms for next year.

Saying Goodbye, Moving On, And All That Jazz

So, I´m in Mexico now. Saying goodbye to Guatemala was ridiculously hard, especially after last week. I learned a lot about a lot of things during my week of service. For example, I learned what generosity really is. On Sunday, we hiked to a small aldea in the middle of the jungle for church. While there, we visited with a family of 9 people who lives in a one-room, dirt-floor house and still fed us breakfast and lunch. There were 7 of us total, so this family who had nearly nothing gave us 14 meals in total. After returning to the town that was home for the week, I moved in with my Qéqchi family. I had 4 brothers (only 3 were there, though, as one lives in another town that is rather far away), 1 sister, a mom and a dad, a sister-in-law, and a nephew, and though they had little more than the family from Sunday, they offered us just as much. They fed and housed us for a week and, within five minutes of our arriving, they were begging us to come back and stay for "Un mes! No 2 meses! No 3! No! Un año!" Thursday night, my brother gave me the gift of a beautiful bag and was delighted if a little confused by how excited I was over it. There are millions of stories that I could tell from this week and of this family, and, if you asked me for them, I wouldn´t even know where to begin, though I´d be delighted to give it an all-star effort. But, I can tell you that I miss this family so much I could cry right now...and have felt this way since we left Saturday. Sorry, I´m rambling. What my initial point was, what{s wrong with us that we so often have so much and give so little when people who have so little willingly and lovingly give us so much? Profe challenged us on Sunday before we left for Mexico to still be open to joinging and seeing God in our Mexican families. Background: my family here in Mexico is better off financially than my family in the States. It´s very hard to go from cold bucket baths and dirt floors with mice (but bastante love and welcoming! Even though I was only there for a week, I really felt a part of my Qéqchi family--my brothers called me sister, asked me to send them pictures of my graduation in May, and told me that I have to come back and spend every summer break with my family in Guatemala) to hot showers and my own room and not wonder what´s wront with the world. But, I´m not one to let a challenge go unmet, so it´s time to take a deep breath and dive in again. Are you ready for this, Mexico? :)

Speaking of being ready, one other challenge that I´ve encountered is processing things. I have so many thoughts and questions running around in my head and no time to process them! Profe calls it "letting your soul catch up with you," and I have no idea when I´m going to do this! Without having time to process Guatemala, I´ve moved on to Mexico. And, by the time we get home, I will have twice as much to process and still no time because May will bring with it hard-core NCLEX prep. Así es la vida, supongo! More adventures to come! :)