Forgiveness

Completely unexpectedly, an old colleague called a few days ago. But wasn't just any call. Though it had been years since we talked, this call was different. You see: our relationship had undergone a few bumpy roads we had not fully recovered from, and my old friend phoned to recall one such particular day that stood out in both of our memories. It was a terrible, heart-wrenching, trust-shattering, confidence-breaking day for me. Yet as events of this day were recalled, I told him, "it is a day I recall clearly, but have not clung to." I'm not sure how true that is, but I've done my best to live into it.

But he didn't stop with that explanation, because the call was surely not to relive it. Rather, he called to offer a deep, heart-felt, God-sent, life-giving, burden-lifting apology.

Sometimes, the things we do, the actions we take, the words we speak: they seep deep inside us. We allow things so unlike ourselves to come out from us, overtaking us, changing us and our relationships, even defining us. Often, when we recall these moments, days, and memories over and over again in our minds, perhaps with regret, we do nothing about it.

Two days after this phone call took place, I received an email from someone in our MFSA network on the same topic of forgiveness. After sharing it with her church, she felt compelled to share her amazing story of forgiveness with others, and invited me to share it widely within our network and beyond.

On a week like this one with two compelling stories that touched me deeply, its hard not to take time for deep reflection on what forgiveness and grace really mean in our lives. In my life. I haven't been able to stop thinking about what that kind of forgiveness means in my life, and how I will carry with me the phone call I received a couple of days ago.

On the phone call, my friend decided to do something about this moment that has weighed so heavily on him over the past few years. This was a moment, after all, that significantly changed our relationship.

So my friend picked up the phone, dialed my number, shared this story, and offered the most genuine apology I could ever have asked for. It was so sincere that I couldn't stop smiling, even amidst the surprise or the recalling of a difficult time. My hand was literally drawn to my mouth in surprise, then over my heart as if in an effort to keep in the many emotions it brought up. But no matter the emotions, I couldn't stop smiling. I could hardly even wait for the gracious words on the other end of the line to conclude before I offered the most heartfelt forgiveness I have ever been blessed to offer.

I could not stop smiling at the peace I suddenly felt about the situation, about the heartache it had caused me.

I couldn't stop smiling because I knew a friendship had been healed and transformed over 4 seemingly simple words:"I am so sorry."

Most importantly: I couldn't stop smiling because I knew how much healing this short conversation offered.

I know how healing it was for me: the years of painful memories that honestly seem to have washed away with healing through forgiveness and gratitude of sincerity. Even as I write this, I am amazed to discover for myself that this kind of apology, paired well with acknowledgement of pain and undue suffering, can bring such wholeness and restoration.

Yet my biggest smile of all was for none of these reasons. It was for my friend on the other end of the line. I can only hope this forgiveness I have experienced and granted today was felt on the other end of that line. I smile wide for my friend, sharing in joy, hoping that they too can have a burden lifted and replaced with God's everlasting and abundant grace.

Thank you, friend, for making that difficult call after all of these years. Thank you, Bunnie, for sharing your story in your gracious email. To both of you: You may never know what it has meant to me or taught me to be a part of your stories in this way: I can only hope and pray it has had the same effect on you.

Happy Anniversary

Today marks my first anniversary of a day I never imagined I would face. A day that I am simultaneously very grateful for, and that I wish didn't have to exist.

One year ago today, I met my friend Emily. One year ago tomorrow, I met her parents and my good friends- Jen and Matt.

One year ago on the 11th, I was celebrating with the world as the 2010 FIFA World Cup came to a close. I remember that day vividly: the cheers, the celebrations, the crowd of somewhere around 40,000 people from all over the world gathered to watch the Word Cup Final - Spain vs. Netherlands - on a big screen at the Sandton Fan Park. Indeed for me, that was a great day.

The next day (Monday) was filled with sorrow as we heard news that there had been two terrorist attacks in Uganda: bombing aimed at similar groups who gathered joyously to celebrate this world event. Groups who had no idea how much their lives were about to change.

On Tuesday I woke up to news that one American had died. Not just any American (it wasn't the nationality that hit me so hard)- he was a friend of many of my friends. I didn't know him well, but I had met him once. It was suddenly much, much closer to home. and I felt connected to this tragedy in a way I didn't understand. I desperately wished I could do something, but like most tragedies around the globe: there was little I could do from far away except pray. I did a lot of that...

Around lunch time I became restless and had "had enough." I felt claustrophobic in our house (we weren't working at this point, as it was our first full week off from SHADE). So I informed my roommates that I was going out to the mall where I would browse and sit in a coffee shop and read my book and just be "out." They agreed this was a good idea, so before we knew it, we found ourselves sharing lunch in a coffee shop with our books and half-written letters lying beside us. It was a day that was filled with good conversation, with the company of friends who challenged one another but were good for each other, and above all: it was good for our souls.

Rachel had been in contact with folks from Pennsylvania, who gave us word that a couple of other Americans had been on a Mission Trip (from a Methodist Church) and were in critical condition. They were to be flown down to Joburg where they could receive better care than the bursting-at-the-seams hospitals in Kampala.

Before we knew it we found ourselves looking for complete strangers in a South African ICU. The nurses were kind and we told them why we were there: American Missionaries who were asked to visit the Americans and offer support until their family could arrive.

I'll never forget that night.
 
We met Joanne, Emily's grandmother, and her greatest concern was over her grandaughter. We assured her she was nearby and resting well... as we had just been to see her. Emily... was sleeping when we arrived. We prayed over her. Then, at the prompting of a nurse, we gently woke her to say hello, to pray with her. I can still hear that quiet, sweet, scared voice like it was yesterday. The thought of it has literally given me chills.. I wrote a little more about that day in an old post you can find here.

The days that followed were unexpected. We showed up in the morning to greet Emily's parents, sure they'd want to know who had been to visit their daughter. We immediately knew who they were when they walked out, as it was winter and Matt was in shorts and flip-flops: straight off the plane from America. We introduced ourselves and intended to leave, only leaving behind a number "in case you need anything" - but honestly not sure we could offer them much. I'm so glad we were wrong.

Emily had evidently been asking where her "3 angels who came to visit last night" were: and there was a bit of relief to realize she wasn't crazy, and I imagine they measured us up to be normal enough - at least for 3 girls who choose to live in South Africa.

So we stayed. We took some "dubers" (Matt’s favorite word for foreign currency) and got them a local phone... and then stayed for lunch. And dinner. And lunch and dinner almost every day for the next 4 weeks…

It has been a long, hard year for my friends. Bur progress has been made, all are home, and while life is still anything but normal compared to one year (and 3 days) ago,  I am grateful to be carrying on with this journey alongside them.

To my Kerstetter family: you have been an incredible blessing to my life. Thank you. I love you all.

And they'll Know we are Christians...

I struggle with angry people in the church.

There are different types of anger, of course. I affirm anger that is productive. Anger that leads to addressing systems of injustice. Anger against injustice that can be ….

People who are angry and ready and willing to fight about resolutions or policies of our Church. People who are angry when they intentionally exclude people from God’s church. People who react with anger as they seek to be “inclusive” - even when that inclusivity comes at the cost of excluding those who disagree with them…

For the first time (that I can remember), I was uncomfortable taking communion today. I was torn as I realized how uncomfortable I was. Torn because I was uncomfortable with the situation, but then also uncomfortable that I was so uncomfortable. What kind of witness was I making in my own inability (refusal?) to walk away? What would have been the better, healthier decision?

You see… today, I decided to take part in a communion service with a group of folks who were intentionally welcoming “ALL” people to the table. In theory (and usually in practice!) this is something I stand with and for. I believe our church needs to continue working in this direction of radical hospitality, welcoming “only” those whom Jesus welcomed in his ministry: everyone. That’s it. No categories. No “except,” no, “but what if…” - just everyone. Yes, those lack of exceptions even include and move beyond one’s sexuality. Really, truly, with all of my being (even when its hard) and at the core of my being, I believe: Jesus’ intentionality in uses phrases such as “the least of these” means that he loves and welcomes ALL of US. There is no “them.”

So… Have you ever had the experience of reading something and understanding it one way, then later having someone else read it to be something entirely different? Today, that is how this service felt. The liturgy was beautifully written. The songs were well chosen. And yet somehow, today, something in me (call it the Spirit!?) moved. I was uncomfortable not with the words, but with how they were spoken. I was uncomfortable with the words (that we didn’t sing due to music being played behind us), “they will know we are Christian by our love…”

I was uncomfortable as I asked myself…
    Would those around us know we’re Christian? We didn’t exactly invite everyone. That is: you were not invited if you did not agree with our “inclusive” stand.
    … and so I ask: is that love?

A huge part of my call to ministry is a commitment to dialogue. How is this conducive to that?

...To be clear: this is not to reflect poorly on the individuals holding the service. It was a nice service. But today, it stirred something within me that made me angry. And that kind of anger has no place at the table. My prayer is for my own healing. For my own journey toward perfection. For my own desire to love better. As I sit here at an Annual Conference with over 2500 other United Methodists, I can’t help but to wonder how many people among us have been excluded… and how can we journey together to be the truly welcoming and “radically hospitable” church we claim to be?

I am grateful for the journey… and that I am not the one who is expected to have all of these answers. I am grateful for the God of love and Grace who carries us, forgives us, and loves us: even when we are not living up to the call on our own lives to do the same.

Congratulations

I’m at that place in life where lots of my friends are either getting married, or are already married and having children. A very exciting time.

Today, my dear friend Emily has exchanged vows with the love of her life, Michael.

I wish with all of my heart I could be there to help them celebrate. To see in person the smile that I know only Michael can bring to Emily’s face. To share in the joy they will exude today as they make official their pledge to share their lives with one another: with the one person who makes the other happier than any of us have ever seen them.

I could not be happier for you, Michael and Emily. And today, I say, with all of my heart and from across an ocean: Congratulations Michael and Emily! I love you!

The Sound of Music

Tonight I was blessed with the opportunity to spend the evening supporting one of the incredible young people in my life. Nissia, the youngest of Mama Tembo’s five daughters, is a joyful, lovable ball of energy, and more than once “dramatic” (in the good sense) is a word I have used to describe her.

Nissia came home in February excited that her school was holding auditions for a musical she had never heard of, “The Sound of Music.” Excited, Hannah, Rachel and I immediately began to sing our favorite songs from this classic musical. We laughed, sang, even wrote out words to songs so we could teach her before her call-back. Every time we turned around, Nissia was practicing!

Her hard work paid off. Nissia was cast as one of the children, and her joy and excitement could not have hit a higher level (even for Nissia - and that’s really saying something!). We immediately promised we would see her when performance time came.

I’m not sure where time has gone since then (its almost June!), but the time finally arrived. Tonight, we filled our car and made our way to her beautiful school. To be honest, I was REALLY nervous for her - like a proud mother! To no one’s surprise, though, she did AMAZING, and the show was great! I am so proud of her, and so happy to have been able to be a part of this big night for her - her first time in a theatre production!

During intermission, the guest of honor, “grandfather of South African Theatre” John Kain was introduced. During his short speech, he noted that he has enjoyed watching the audience and proud parents almost more than the students. He too questioned who was more nervous… parents? or students? I laughed as I realized that for the first time, I felt like the proud mother.

It is good to be here. To support her like my child, or like a kid sister; to be a family. It is good that though we have struggled together and independently through a great deal, on night’s like tonight we get to come together and celebrate accomplishments too.

It is good to be family.

Following an Example

I am sitting in a session of Synod at which we are discussing same-sex relationships, and I am silently crying inside right now.

It is so difficult. It was appreciated that both sides were given an opportunity to be heard.  First to be heard was the side that was the “sympathetic and embracing” position. The persons presenting were asked to be neutral and not state which side they agreed with, but to present neutrally. One person to present each side. The first person alluded to the fact that they were not pleased to present the pro-side, but was faithful to this request of neutrality. He read off of a powerpoint with a few side comments to explain. Overall, it was a factual, honest, unemotional argument.

Then comes the second argument. That which is against. It began with the speaker stating, “I do not agree! and I am prepared to tell you why.” Obviously, a different beginning, as his argument was emotionally charged and sought to engage the synod in a different manner. He deconstructed church policies, reading through a list that include statements such as, “seek to be well-informed,” and proclaiming, “I do not agree!”

What is it that we should ever NOT seek to be informed about? Seeking information, compassion or understanding does not mean one should have to change their minds, even. But how dare we condemn anyone without first having compassion for them? Did Jesus not do the same thing? Yes! In the Hebrew Bible it says that one who commits adultery should be stoned to death. Does Jesus not forgive the woman who is caught in adultery, saying, “let he who has no sin, cast the first stone”?

This is a message of compassion, forgiveness, love and kindness - how does this example of Christ escape us for “these people”?

As a church, we seek to follow Christ. Yes, it is true that Christ condemned sins. But in doing so, he never excluded or exiled sinners. He invited them to follow him. He welcomed them. He said that ALL are welcome at the table. He went out of his way to help both those understood to be sinners, and the faithful who believed. More often than not, these people were the same: Doesn’t he say that it is the sick who need a doctor? If we acknowledge we need Jesus, we acknowledge we are all sinners. Therefore we must make our way to a place where we do not condemn one another, where we do not judge who is sinning where or when, or whose sin is “greater” than another.

As a (global) church, we must not lose sight of our primary call. We are called to live faithfully into the example Christ has set before us. When it comes to the tax collector, the lepers, or the adulterers, for a few among many, how is it that we see and wish to share Jesus’ compassion and love and inclusion of these persons, and yet we consistently fail to share Jesus’ compassion and love and inclusion for others? Today, the issue at hand is homosexuality. Not long ago, it was women in the church. Not long before that, it was slavery.

How do we discern?

We do not have to have a solution. We do not have to all agree. But we do have to keep following Jesus. We do have to follow the path of Jesus which has been set before us: a path of compassion. A path of kindness, forgiveness, and love. A path of welcoming inclusion. No one said following Jesus would be easy. Inviting, welcoming and learning from those with whom we disagree will never be easy. Nor was it easy for Jews to welcome gentiles. Nor was it easy for anyone to walk away when Jesus said, “let he who has no sin, cast the first stone.” As times changed, it was not easy for Bishops to recant their public statements that slavery is discussed clearly in Scripture and should not be condemned. This journey is not an easy one. In fact, Jesus promised it wouldn’t be. My hope is neither that it would be easy, nor that a decision would be made to tear the church apart. Rather, my hope is that we might continue journeying together on issues which are most controversial, and as we do so, may we practice the mercy, love, and compassion Jesus has first shown us.

Occassions to Celebrate

The past few weekend have been eventful and full of time to spend with the Ilunga family, as we are invited/expected to be at family events. It has been a great way to get to know them better - the girls but perhaps especially Mama and Papa while outside of work-related events.

The first of these family weekend events was the weekend we returned from the Congo. In true Ilunga style, we received a text message at 3 telling us to be ready to be picked up at 5. That's it. We didn't know why, or where we were going. We did call to find out if we should eat supper first, to which we received a surprised "of course not! We're going out to eat!" haha, ok... good to know, right?

The purpose for this particular outing was to celebrate Debbie's 17th birthday! One more year as a minor... and she made sure we knew it! We - the 5 Ilunga girls, Mama & Papa, Clifford, Vixa, Rachel, Hannah & I - gathered for some much-needed laughs over our celebratory dinner, complete with singing a few rounds of Happy Birthday to implement proper amounts of embarrassment for the birthday girl!

On our way out, we did manage to stop for a family photo. Too bad the pretty blue wall behind us doesn't look so pretty with the flash ruining the sweet lighting. But you get the idea. :)

Our next outing was the following Friday, for which we gathered for yet another Ilunga family birthday - this time, Judy was turning 19! Again meeting up at the Waterfront for dinner, we added more people to our group and did our best to sing, take photos, etc. A quality bonding activity with the family, we are definitely starting to see different sides of them - esp Mama Tembo - and I love it! It also helped piece together where "innocent" little Nissia gets all her spunk from! haha

 

For the third weekend in a row, we spent a day this past weekend at another family function, this time at a wedding Mama and Papa were hosting (as the godparents of the groom). The ceremony was beautiful and provided an eventful and full day of events, beginning early (not until 10am for us) with preparations and continuing on an "African time" schedule. Following the ceremony, we (the entire wedding party, which we somehow became a part of and Hannah became the official photographer for) made our way around town for photos. We stopped at the city garden, where this group photo was taken, then moved to Milnerton beach, where a few of us managed to go play in the water while the photos were being shot. Eventually we made it back to the Ilunga home, where the entire party gathered to eat lunch and do that thing we are oh-so-very good at these days: wait. Nearly everyone changed to eat so they wouldn't spill on the fancy attire, only to begin with hair, make-up and new outfits for the reception. As usual, this took a bit longer than anticipated, and we arrived at the reception just over two hours late. The guests are clearly used to this routine, though, as when we entered about 15 minutes before the couple, everyone seemed content as could be just hanging out in the reception hall.

The arrival of the couple meant a meal was soon to follow, followed by lots of dancing and photo opportunities (Hannah did a great job!). The party got one so late and everyone had such a good time cutting the cake was nearly forgotten! Seriously. It was so late when it was finally cut they decided not to bother serving it, and shortly thereafter the couple left, encouraging the guests to do so soon thereafter. A great time was had by all, but the time we left, we were definitely exhausted and thankful to be going home. We did manage to get one quick picture of the 3 of us in our "reception dresses" on our way out the door, though. A definite shout-out must be had to the Ilunga girls, once again, for letting us go through their closets (per request of Mama Tembo). All 3 of us started in clothing we'd taken the previous week. Then in the afternoon we unexpectedly changed into eveningwear... again, courtesy (not that it was always a choice) of the Ilunga closets. They're pretty stylish girls, huh?

This has been a lot of excitement in a little bit of time, especially since we spent today at a town meeting in Atlantis! (hopefully more on that later) With the youth Stay Awake Friday (read: lock-in only everyone seriously stays awake all night) and another wedding on Saturday (that we are not anticipating making after being up all night, if we can help it), to say we are tired would be an understatement. Its that good kind of tired, though. The kind that keeps me alive and remembering what we are living for. That every day is a new day, that every moment presents a new opportunity for adventure, that there are countless ways to enjoy life through love, laughter, and joy.

These are the kinds of moments I am living for. I have embarked on this crazy adventure. I have moved to South Africa because I believe God has called me to live and work and pray and serve.... and learn. Each day (like these) that I have to live more fully into the community I have been welcomed into here, I know I am being shaped. Sometimes, it feels like pinning and prodding. Most of the time, it feels like love shared between friends and family. That's how it feels today, and I realize I must have the best "job" in the world: I would rather be no other place in the world than right here, right now. That, friends, is an incredible feeling, and I praise God for it! and I praise God for you - my supporters and prayer warriors and friends and family who have helped support me and bring me to this place. Really, truly, from the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you for being a part of this journey with me.

A note from Israel

Today was an incredible day.

It started at 5am when I went with “the Trio” (Leanne, Emily and myself) down to the shoreline to watch the sunrise. So we sat, arm in arm in the dark by the waterside and listened to the waves crash into the shore from the Sea of Galilee. Every once in a while someone would whisper softly something like, “how many times do you think Jesus sat in this very spot and did this very thing?” As the sun slowly rose and night turned to day, we found ourselves shifting from the rocks on which we were perched and meddling in the cool water. I stood ankle deep and let the waves splash up as the sun came up. We saw an otter and lots of beautiful birds. We felt the cool wind. We shared knowing glances. As more friends from out trip joined us, we gathered around a small glass of wine and a pita, prayed the Great Thanksgiving together, and shared in a Holy meal of Communion. It was beautiful, and we could not have asked for a better start to our day.

Our morning was a busy one, complete with frustrations of timelines and busy schedules. We didn’t let it get to us for long, though, for we could not help but find great joy in all we were surrounded by. We made a stop at Enherod, the site where God separated Gideon’s army into 300. The water was far from what we wanted to drink from today, but the park in which it lay was absolutely gorgeous, and full of new forms of vegetation like a “spikey” tree.

After a brief stop at Bet Alfa, a synagogue with incredible ancient mosaics from some of the earliest Christians, we spent several hours at Bet She’an. Bet She’an was a city that has been dated back thousands of years, the final remains of which were finally a Roman city that had been destroyed by an earthquake in the 7^th century. This place was incredible as we seemed to almost casually walk through ruins of cities that were at least 1400 years old. It was beyond anything our minds could grasp. As we walked into a big, beautiful ampitheatre, our favorite professor, Dr. KK Yeo, asked us if we would sing for them on the stage. (We have been singing the whole trip, and were asked to sing the previous day at worship as well). We could not pass up the opportunity, so after our brief lecture, made our way down to the stage as our colleagues waited in the top row. We made our way onto the ancient stage and were told we “looked like ants” as everyone grew quiet. Leanne started us and together we sang the first verse of “Amazing Grace.” It was indeed another holy moment that sent chills up my spine as our voices carried throughout the outdoor amphitheatre just as they would have thousands of years before. Incredible… and this was only the first stop of many within this incredible ancient city. It was a worthwhile walk, included a nice hike to a chapel on a hill, and lots of time to walk, pray, sing, laugh, and take photos.

A Crusade fortress only slightly out of our way was a good visit to another part of our history. We have parts or our history that do not always feel so holy, but it was still incredible to visit and see what such a fortress Christian soldiers lived in was like. It was complete with a large moat, windows only large enough to shoot arrows through, and large courtyards where we could easily envision Crusaders mingling, sleeping, or sharing meals. It was a beautiful fortress with a dark history, and I am thankful we could include this piece of our history with the rest of our journey.

Our last stop of the day was perhaps the most anticipated visit of the entire trip for many: the Jordan River. I wish I could find words to begin to describe to you this experience. The stop started off quite differently from how we imagined, as it we went to a place on the river that was clearly designed for tourists. However, the holiness of this place easily prevailed over that frustration, and we were overcome by the power of the Holy Spirit among us. In fact, the reminder of what makes this river holy may even have made this more holy for us. Mark 1:9-11 was written on the walls around us in every language you could imagine; we could not come up with a language we knew that was not written somewhere around us. Nor could we count the languages being spoken around us. God is so good… and speaks to us in so many languages…

The Jordan River. What can one say? We shared in a service of prayer and thanksgiving as we renewed our baptisms. We watched in awe and wonder as many around us were being baptized in the very same waters Jesus was so very many years ago. We listened to the song of our Orthodox brothers singing just down the way. We prayerfully sang a few of our own songs as we held each other close. Some of the holiest moments we shared were caught on film by others as we were oblivious to the cameras around us. The video of our singing as we stood in the river swaying back and forth gives evidence to the radiating joy we were feeling in the moment. I was blessed to be anointed in the river by a dear friend, and even more blessed by the time of prayer we shared together in a holy huddle. It was indeed a very short hour of prayer, peace, as the love of God and the love of my dear sisters created for us a moment to never be forgotten. It was a holy moment that I may never be able to fully conceive, and I am all the better for that glorious holy mystery.

This was only one day of this incredible journey. I imagine it will go down as one of the most incredible days of my life... I have so many unforgettable memories from today that I imagine when I remember them, I will not believe they all happened on the same day.

(I tried to include pictures, but they wouldn't load. If we have better internet tomorrow, I'll update with them then)

A Prayerful Journey Ahead

After flipping through Matthew's copy of The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne (founder of the SimpleWay) this summer, I finally picked up my own copy yesterday. I'm only about 140 pages in, but I can tell you there were words in the first 100 that could have been my own, and I was so taken aback by it I that had to read them several times. It's interesting to read where his thoughts from then have taken him today. I imagine he finds himself in a very different place now than he ever envisioned, and that can be a result of only one thing: God is amazing. As I have been anxiously trying to make decisions about my own life this week, this story offers me a refreshing excitement to see how my own story will unravel.

That brings me to Discernment. I have a special place in my heart for this word. Since college and the days of small groups formed from the Lilly endowment's vocational formation program at my school, this word has brought with it a plethora of emotions. Anxiety, joy… excitement, even! But also humility, confusion, sometimes sorrow or fear. A healthy sort of fear. The kind of awareness (if not an actual form of the emotion) of apprehension that keeps me aware of the fact that I am not actually in control. A recognition that reminds me of my need to keep relying on God in all that I do. I guess “fear” may not be the right word to describe this emotion, but I am at a loss for how to describe the determination and hope and focus and intensity that come with the desire to always seek refuge in uncomfortable situations... to always seek a way to work for change when I become comfortable in a place that our broken society is also comfortable with. For what good and positive changes ever come from comfort and safety? I "fear" living in that place... and I refuse to let FEAR keep me from seeking change in these ways...

Some days, I am so uncertain of what my future holds I find myself in a place of real fear, in which I cannot so much as try to process where I will be 9 months from now (upon graduation)… so I find myself in the place I should have been all along: in prayer.

From that, I have concluded that there is only one thing I can know about how I am being called to live: I know I am being called to love people, and to love people well. We talked a lot this summer about the challenge of "loving people we have never met." We spent 2 months raising money and awareness to help our brothers and sisters in Africa reach access to clean water. The more we talked about it, the more I realized that for me, that isn't always that hard. They're far away. I am "safe" from their harsh reality. I'm not doing the walking every day to get dirty water - I'm helping them stop doing so by driving a van and giving people water I bought at a store that morning. I am Safe. I realize that I don't want to be - and do not feel called to be - so "safe". What we did this summer was an amazing, miraculous feat and I have absolutely no regrets about what we did, how we did it, or why we did it. God was a part of that team and of our mission. And it wasn't safe in many, many ways. But its not the end for me, either.

I want to use this experience as one more that will help me to love people, and love them well. I want to face the challenge of loving people not just from a safe distance, but up close and personal. To love them not just on the days we can celebrate together and share in fellowship, but to love them on the days when it is most difficult to do so, whether because of hardship or exhaustion or 'simple' things like a personality conflict (as was sometimes hard with the very people on our own team... here in the 'safe' land of our own 'real' lives). I want to love people and be fully engaged in a ministry of presence, seeking to do "what is good" as I learn to "do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God" (Micah 6:8).

Wherever I end up and whatever I end up doing, I want to learn to listen well so that my ministry is one that engages fully not with what an institution tells me needs to be done, but with what the people with whom I live in community with most need. Maybe those things will even be the same... but I pray for the opportunity to take time to be present and build relationships before taking action.

So in the end, it comes down to what sounds like a cheesy cliché, but is really where all of my heart and soul are invested. I want to love well. Nothing more, nothing less. A big task, I am sure, and one I will have to grow in to. But I trust that whatever path I am on a year from now, it will be doing just that.
(and I hope Mom is okay with that path, too!)

Safe Arrival In Chicago

I have safely landed back in Chicago.

It was a welcome hospitable greeting as a friend (thanks, Kate!) picked me up from the airport... and airport that is quite out of the way from where we live, and included a drive through the city in rush hour traffic to get me... but I have never been so happy - with all of my bags and my excitement to be home - to have a friend so generous as to pick me up, curbside.

Arrival to Evanston included a quick greet to Kim, who picked up the keys to my apartment this afternoon since the office was closed by the time I arrived. We dropped my bags on the floor and stood in my apartment a whole of 4 minutes before moving on to a place where food could be eaten... clearly my cupboards are a bit bare after being away for over 2 months.

Dinner was great. A welcome meal with friends (more joined us!) that it was GREAT to catch up with! It was also good to be back in time to see the "baby bump" forming on Amanda!!! Followed by the recognition what we were all tired but not ready to say goodbye, we landed in the home of friends that immediately felt like home again. I cannot express how GREAT it felt to be HOME! Greeted with a fresh pot of coffee and a new video camera, the laughs were without end. And as more friends came to visit (they just kept calling - "are you here yet!?!"), I could not have felt more welcome, or more loved.

A phone call from a friend I've been trying to get in touch with all week was welcome and encouraging... it is a strange thing to try to grieve with friends hundreds of miles away... and it is an encouraging thing when they seem to genuinely be handling things so incredibly well... and with grace, peace, and trust in God. I am thankful for friends like this I can learn from, grow with, and be "present" with (even from afar) if/when a deeper reality later sets in.

God has really blessed me with some amazing relationships, and tonight I am reminded of that. I am reminded as I think of how great it was to see Laura and her children this morning... to spend the morning with my mom on the way to the airport, to spend the evening with great friends in an amazing community this evening... to stay in touch via phone to hear the voice of a friend I love and miss dearly, and for the gift of technology that has allowed me to chat and send messages to so many friends tonight. I talked to 6 members of the Ride:Well Team tonight- some brief, some more extensive - but all enough to remind me of the blessings they have brought upon me.

Time for the Ones I Love

It’s a crazy and confusing thing, time. It can fly past you without you even knowing it happened, or make each second feel like a minute or hour. In the midst of joy, it celebrates with you quickly and expediently, going by so quickly you are sometimes not sure it was there to begin with. Or in the midst of pain and sorrow, it drags by, weeping with you, intensifying each and every moment, each and every breath.

This week, every day has seemed to drag by. The days move in slow motion as I reflect on where my life has led me. As I dwell on decisions I am about to make over the next several months. As I recall memories of the Ride:Well team that bring me joy, while simultaneously feeling great pain and sorrow as a result of our separation from one another. The days are long, the breaths heavy, and the tears sometimes far many more than are welcome.

Yet this week has flown by. It seems like I should still have more than a single day left to see the rest of my family, to spend time with my dear friend Laura and her beautiful family. I should not be worried about scheduling in time for things like playing that over-due tennis match with my baby sister, having breakfast with my brothers, or having lunch with a long-lost colleague who I now share a passion for biking with. I shouldn’t be pressed for time when it seems like every day this week has gone so slowly I think the growing grass could have beat me at a race for the finish.

In my attempt to get some “summer reading” in this week, I’ve been working through Anne Lamott’s “Traveling Mercies.” Something she said that has stuck with me is the importance of grief. When we allow ourselves to grieve, she says, the grief moves us away from the numb feelings that come with avoidance, and allow us to become who we truly are. Then, instead of feeling numb all the time, we move into places where we are able to have occasional moments of utter joy, “of feeling aware of each moment shining for its own momentous sake” (you should read this whole book… but this particular piece can be found on page 71).

I do not believe that my grief of the team is as severe as that which she is describing in this piece, but I do think there is validity in what she is saying. It also goes to say that we must allow ourselves to grieve – no matter how big or small – but that we must also be willing to find pockets of joy in the midst of that.

I for one am thankful for the pockets of sunshine in my life, for they have brought me great joy this week. It has been a treat to spend time with my biological family (which, for the record, has been a record-setting problem free this week!). I have also been blessed to find myself in the presence of many of the people I love most in the world outside of my family. My best friend Eliot was here on Friday afternoon, and my dear, dear, old roommate, friend, and companion Ruby just spent all day with me. Count in that I got to see my sister and Rosie both last week in DC, and I would say this has perhaps been one of the most blessed (two) weeks I have seen in quite some time! For Eliot, Ruby, Rosie and Alicia are four of the people dearest to my heart… and I have never in my life been able to see all of them in such a short span of time. Let me not forget that I technically saw the Ride:Well team in that same time AND will see my Garrett family when I arrive in Evanston on Thursday, and I am left speechless with the blessing of community – no matter how near or far – I have developed over time.

I guess that just goes to show – life is all about perspective. Today, I’m choosing to focus on the perspective that life is what you make it – and while I will continue to grieve the loss of the community of the Ride:Well Team, I am also seeking these moments of celebration as we begin to move away from it. As we continue to grow together in our new experiences as we begin to unravel what our experiences together can mean in our “real” lives now that we have made attempts at returning to them. I never have intentions of forgetting or letting go of the Tour. I can’t imagine that being possible. But I don’t want to hold on to it as something that grieves me as it already has… I want to hold onto it as something that brings me joy of great memories, the beginning of amazing friendships, and as a source of strength as I recall all that has already been endured and overcome for a greater purpose.

Coming full term with such goals will undoubtedly take time, but it sure feels good to have set a goal, to have begun to make sense of it all. To have taken the first steps toward making it a reality. The first step, of course, being to recognize and record that which I hope to gain. And second? To take action by moving from sending sappy “I miss you” Facebook notes or emails, into picking up the phone and seeing how they’re doing instead. It was good – and healing – to hear familiar voices over the lines tonight… and it made me wonder why we have ever allowed ourselves to become so lazy that technology was able to take that gift from us.

God Loves That Guy

In the past couple of weeks, I've really enjoyed listening to some new artists I've recently discovered. One song I've come across that has really impacted me has been "That Guy" by Andy Gullahorn. We're doing a sermon series on "Changes" at church right now, and having the kind of love that song talks about is a change I would love to see for my life- for all of our lives. What a different place our world would be... Next week we'll be singing this song in church, and I can only hope the words stick with the congregation as much as they have stuck with me.

Since I first suggested this song, I've been asked several times where I found it. Long story short, I found it through The Square Peg Alliance (I wrote more on that here), though I knew I'd heard it somewhere else before, and just wasn't sure where. Then tonight I did a YouTube search to see if there were any videos out there with this song, only to discover that my friend Karl made a video to it (explaining why the song was familiar- I'd seen it on his website before). This is a great video with an incredible display of the sad reality of our world... and our great need to reach beyond the sins and short-fallings of ourselves and those around us and into the world God has called us to: a world of love.

Teach me to love like that.