It was Monday morning, and the combination of nerves and excitement from the four of us was palpable. We had no idea how the day would pan out, and, like the punctual Westerners that we all were, we were prepared and set up at 8:45am for our 9am camp start. We were expecting 75 children, ages 5-10.
There had been children waiting outside the gate since we first went outside at 7am, so I had thought our 9am start would go smoothly. What the translators at the gate told me - what set the tone for my whole first day - was that all of these children outside weren't even the children from the list. [Side note: the camp rosters had been created from going into the communities and enrolling the poorest and most malnourished children. Not exactly people I would want to kick out of camp for being late.] Being completely new to the situation, and aware that we needed to operate on "Africa time," I decided that first day not to replace the roster with the children at the gate, and allow the enrolled children to trickle in as they came. We had about 25 little ones by 9:30, and were close to 60 by the end of our first morning, out of the 75 on our roster. Needless to say, while the first day's activities were very successful and the children had a ball - the scene outside the gate was heart wrenching. I will never forget that first day of the first camp. We tried slightly different strategies each week, and I don't think we ever got it quite right - every new project takes some growing pains - but that day broke my heart. If there had been enough space to take them all, I gladly would have.
Jenny, one of my fellow coordinators, led a beautiful reflection for us at the end of our experience - and I found myself coming back to this first day. I would like to leave you with the first part of what I wrote that night.
I remember when the children all stood standing at the gate.
I remember when I realized we didn't have enough room to let them all come inside.
I remember when they kept their faces pressed against the keyhole.
I remember when they learned my name, and called to me from outside to let them in.
I remember when I left the camp and talked with them, and the smiles it put on their faces.
I remember my heart breaking at the gate.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
The Gospel Comes Alive
While each individual mass I attended has lost its distinction in my memory, I will never forget what it felt like to attend mass in Kitale.
The Church we worshiped with in Kitale was right down the hill, about a 5-10 minute walk from the Daughters' compound. It's an outstation of a larger parish in Kitale - and as such, I can't imagine how large the parish must be! There is a large stone building that has been under construction for the last 5 years, and when it's finished it will be a beautiful church. The Daughters are hopeful that in the future it will become its own parish, and they will get a Vincentian priest to serve there - making the parish, and the neighborhood by extension, alive in the Vincentian charism.
But, the beautiful stone and brick building is still just a shell, and much work remains to be done. In the meantime, the Church (and I use capital C here intentionally, because I am not referring to a building, but to the body of Christ) gathers in a wooden shack, with mud floors and a tin sheeting roof. It's a very large shack, the largest I've ever seen - and it was filled to overflowing, standing room only, every single mass.
As a musician and a lover of church music, the first thing that I noticed about mass was the choir. No microphones, no pomp and circumstance, and virtually no instruments - the choir simply sat on the benches in the midst of the congregation. They had a few handheld percussion instruments mixed among them, and one set of congas. With "5 loaves and 2 fish," they used their voices to create some of the most beautiful music I've ever heard. I don't know the words to describe the experience of the music, other than awe-inspiring.
And, with music like that, who could help but dance for the Lord? There was a team of liturgical dancers, that I even joined (albeit, not well!) for our last mass in Kitale. I'd never seen liturgical dance used in such a way that it really brought alive the transitions of the mass. The liturgical dancers led the procession into the church, and danced among the congregation throughout the gathering song, until they surrounded the altar. Then, after the opening rite, there was a song to celebrate the Liturgy of the Word, and the liturgical dancers again danced to celebrate the Word. After the homily, there would be a liturgical dance procession to bring the gifts to the altar. It really enlivened my understanding of each part of the mass, by seeing them celebrated in such a way.
Bringing gifts to the altar. I will never think of the Gospel passage of the woman who gives her two coins because it was all she had the same way again. Again with song, rather than a collection basket, they have a procession to bring their gifts to the altar. Men, women, children, some on crutches, many without shoes, and most in the same "Sunday best" each week - nearly the entire congregation processed to the front, most covering their hand as they dropped their offering into the basket. I can't recall this story without it bringing tears to my eyes, because that level of faith, that level of trust in the Providence of the Lord, is too amazing for words.
Our first Sunday and our last Sunday, the 4 of us were brought up to the front to say hellos and goodbyes. As the leader, I was the designated spokesperson for the group - and I've never had such a large audience! The enthusiasm in the room was tangible, and their overwhelming gratitude, their smiles, laughter and cheers, were so undeserved.
Sure, the mass was long - usually 2-2.5 hours - and sure, we never understood any of it because it was all in Kiswahili, and sure, when you've got hundreds of bodies crammed into a shack where there's not enough room to sit, it gets hot and uncomfortable - but their faith didn't have a language barrier, their music swept you away, and their love was like a cool breeze for the soul.
The Church we worshiped with in Kitale was right down the hill, about a 5-10 minute walk from the Daughters' compound. It's an outstation of a larger parish in Kitale - and as such, I can't imagine how large the parish must be! There is a large stone building that has been under construction for the last 5 years, and when it's finished it will be a beautiful church. The Daughters are hopeful that in the future it will become its own parish, and they will get a Vincentian priest to serve there - making the parish, and the neighborhood by extension, alive in the Vincentian charism.
But, the beautiful stone and brick building is still just a shell, and much work remains to be done. In the meantime, the Church (and I use capital C here intentionally, because I am not referring to a building, but to the body of Christ) gathers in a wooden shack, with mud floors and a tin sheeting roof. It's a very large shack, the largest I've ever seen - and it was filled to overflowing, standing room only, every single mass.
As a musician and a lover of church music, the first thing that I noticed about mass was the choir. No microphones, no pomp and circumstance, and virtually no instruments - the choir simply sat on the benches in the midst of the congregation. They had a few handheld percussion instruments mixed among them, and one set of congas. With "5 loaves and 2 fish," they used their voices to create some of the most beautiful music I've ever heard. I don't know the words to describe the experience of the music, other than awe-inspiring.
And, with music like that, who could help but dance for the Lord? There was a team of liturgical dancers, that I even joined (albeit, not well!) for our last mass in Kitale. I'd never seen liturgical dance used in such a way that it really brought alive the transitions of the mass. The liturgical dancers led the procession into the church, and danced among the congregation throughout the gathering song, until they surrounded the altar. Then, after the opening rite, there was a song to celebrate the Liturgy of the Word, and the liturgical dancers again danced to celebrate the Word. After the homily, there would be a liturgical dance procession to bring the gifts to the altar. It really enlivened my understanding of each part of the mass, by seeing them celebrated in such a way.
Bringing gifts to the altar. I will never think of the Gospel passage of the woman who gives her two coins because it was all she had the same way again. Again with song, rather than a collection basket, they have a procession to bring their gifts to the altar. Men, women, children, some on crutches, many without shoes, and most in the same "Sunday best" each week - nearly the entire congregation processed to the front, most covering their hand as they dropped their offering into the basket. I can't recall this story without it bringing tears to my eyes, because that level of faith, that level of trust in the Providence of the Lord, is too amazing for words.
Our first Sunday and our last Sunday, the 4 of us were brought up to the front to say hellos and goodbyes. As the leader, I was the designated spokesperson for the group - and I've never had such a large audience! The enthusiasm in the room was tangible, and their overwhelming gratitude, their smiles, laughter and cheers, were so undeserved.
Sure, the mass was long - usually 2-2.5 hours - and sure, we never understood any of it because it was all in Kiswahili, and sure, when you've got hundreds of bodies crammed into a shack where there's not enough room to sit, it gets hot and uncomfortable - but their faith didn't have a language barrier, their music swept you away, and their love was like a cool breeze for the soul.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Habari? (How are You?)
I do miss the choruses of everyone saying hello, whether it was the children screaming "how are you? how are you? how are you?" in English from the side of the road, or the chorus of "jambo"s as we walked down the street.
It's really hard to believe I've been back for two and a half weeks already. As you've probably guessed from my absence, life has been... a little busy. It's also been difficult to know where to start - so today I decided to start from the beginning.
I left San Francisco that Wednesday in a blur, steeling myself for the 10 hour solo flight until I met up with the rest of the volunteers in Amsterdam. We all managed to make our connections (barely for some) and before I knew it, all 12 of us (11 volunteers plus the wonderfully helpful Sister Catherine Madigan) were on our final flight to Nairobi. We arrived in Nairobi around 8:30pm on Thursday, most of us completely exhausted from the inability to sleep on a plane. The Daughters were waiting to greet us with open arms, and soon we were being whisked away - the Kioo group stayed the night at the Nairobi house, while the rest of us got started on our journey by staying the night in Thigio about an hour drive West.
Departure time was 7am - and we stepped out the front door to see the matatu that would be taking us to Kitale. Matatus are essentially passenger vans, and are one of the most common forms of transport from one city to another. I remember leaving from Thigio, sitting in this rickety van, thinking that the gravel road was going to be a looooong 8 hour drive. Thankfully, the gravel was only for the first hour or so, until we hit the paved "highway" that goes through the Great Rift Valley. I say "highway" because it was so full of potholes and grooves, that sometimes we actually drove in the ditch because it was safer!
The drive through southwestern Kenya was stunning, in every sense of the word. I was overwhelmed by the astounding beauty everywhere I looked - cliffs, mountains, lush foliage, wild zebras running amongst a herd of cattle - it was some of the most beautiful landscape I've ever seen. But, I was also stunned by the poverty. Tiny shack villages that have spurred up on the side of the highway, just a series of shacks one right next to the other, with women sitting along the roadside selling food or wares. A small solitary child tending a herd of goats, seemingly miles from civilization. Crumbling stone buildings, I can only imagine to be remnants of an era when wealthy British colonists populated the area.
We arrived in Kitale around 3pm, and the Daughters fed us a very hearty, and very long anticipated, lunch. We said our goodbyes to the Chepynal group, who then headed another 3.5 hours further, up a completely different kind of "road"... but I didn't experience that until week 2, so I'll save that story.
We did our best to get our bearings, even though we were all very tired and jetlagged. That first night was a blur, and we all went to bed shortly after supper.
When we awoke the next morning, we got our first proper taste of Kitale. Most of us went to mass with the Sisters that morning, in Kiswahili of course, and then afterwards came back and had what would become our staple breakfast for the next month - toast and peanut butter. Then it was off to my first big project as coordinator - going to the market to stock the volunteer house with food. That morning was an experience I'll never forget!
The market was a fascinating place. In some sense, it was a typical open air farmers market, with tons of individual shops. Many sold similar foods, such as avocados, tomatoes, and corn. Mangoes and bananas were also very easy to find. There were plenty of things I'd never seen before, and Sister Josephine (a native Kenyan, and our translator/guide for the day) did her best to try to figure out what my curiosities might be called in English. The market was similar to what I would have expected - shack-like structures, muddy, buggy, full of children running around without shoes. What I wasn't expecting was the supermarket maybe a 5 minute drive away. Kitale is a very large city, and it has several streets of modernity, including supermarkets, clothing stores, phone shops, and the like. I learned how to order meat in kilograms at the butcher, and that milk and yogurt cartons look almost identical. I also learned that green beans do not exist. It was a fascinating and exhausting morning, and by lunch time we were all thankful to be going back "home."
We got back just in time, because about half way through lunch, the rains started. That first day was thankfully the only day it rained so hard, because all of the buildings we would be using for camp filled with water during the flash flood that afternoon. Being from Oregon, I thought I knew rain... but I've never seen rain like that, where you look outside the window and it looks like someone is just pouring water out of a large bucket. The rest of the day was caught up in the aftermath of the flood - thankfully it just made a mess, and didn't cause any major structural damages!
The next morning was our first full experience of a Kenyan Sunday Mass - and that's enough for a post all by itself :)
It's really hard to believe I've been back for two and a half weeks already. As you've probably guessed from my absence, life has been... a little busy. It's also been difficult to know where to start - so today I decided to start from the beginning.
I left San Francisco that Wednesday in a blur, steeling myself for the 10 hour solo flight until I met up with the rest of the volunteers in Amsterdam. We all managed to make our connections (barely for some) and before I knew it, all 12 of us (11 volunteers plus the wonderfully helpful Sister Catherine Madigan) were on our final flight to Nairobi. We arrived in Nairobi around 8:30pm on Thursday, most of us completely exhausted from the inability to sleep on a plane. The Daughters were waiting to greet us with open arms, and soon we were being whisked away - the Kioo group stayed the night at the Nairobi house, while the rest of us got started on our journey by staying the night in Thigio about an hour drive West.
Departure time was 7am - and we stepped out the front door to see the matatu that would be taking us to Kitale. Matatus are essentially passenger vans, and are one of the most common forms of transport from one city to another. I remember leaving from Thigio, sitting in this rickety van, thinking that the gravel road was going to be a looooong 8 hour drive. Thankfully, the gravel was only for the first hour or so, until we hit the paved "highway" that goes through the Great Rift Valley. I say "highway" because it was so full of potholes and grooves, that sometimes we actually drove in the ditch because it was safer!
The drive through southwestern Kenya was stunning, in every sense of the word. I was overwhelmed by the astounding beauty everywhere I looked - cliffs, mountains, lush foliage, wild zebras running amongst a herd of cattle - it was some of the most beautiful landscape I've ever seen. But, I was also stunned by the poverty. Tiny shack villages that have spurred up on the side of the highway, just a series of shacks one right next to the other, with women sitting along the roadside selling food or wares. A small solitary child tending a herd of goats, seemingly miles from civilization. Crumbling stone buildings, I can only imagine to be remnants of an era when wealthy British colonists populated the area.
We arrived in Kitale around 3pm, and the Daughters fed us a very hearty, and very long anticipated, lunch. We said our goodbyes to the Chepynal group, who then headed another 3.5 hours further, up a completely different kind of "road"... but I didn't experience that until week 2, so I'll save that story.
We did our best to get our bearings, even though we were all very tired and jetlagged. That first night was a blur, and we all went to bed shortly after supper.
When we awoke the next morning, we got our first proper taste of Kitale. Most of us went to mass with the Sisters that morning, in Kiswahili of course, and then afterwards came back and had what would become our staple breakfast for the next month - toast and peanut butter. Then it was off to my first big project as coordinator - going to the market to stock the volunteer house with food. That morning was an experience I'll never forget!
The market was a fascinating place. In some sense, it was a typical open air farmers market, with tons of individual shops. Many sold similar foods, such as avocados, tomatoes, and corn. Mangoes and bananas were also very easy to find. There were plenty of things I'd never seen before, and Sister Josephine (a native Kenyan, and our translator/guide for the day) did her best to try to figure out what my curiosities might be called in English. The market was similar to what I would have expected - shack-like structures, muddy, buggy, full of children running around without shoes. What I wasn't expecting was the supermarket maybe a 5 minute drive away. Kitale is a very large city, and it has several streets of modernity, including supermarkets, clothing stores, phone shops, and the like. I learned how to order meat in kilograms at the butcher, and that milk and yogurt cartons look almost identical. I also learned that green beans do not exist. It was a fascinating and exhausting morning, and by lunch time we were all thankful to be going back "home."
We got back just in time, because about half way through lunch, the rains started. That first day was thankfully the only day it rained so hard, because all of the buildings we would be using for camp filled with water during the flash flood that afternoon. Being from Oregon, I thought I knew rain... but I've never seen rain like that, where you look outside the window and it looks like someone is just pouring water out of a large bucket. The rest of the day was caught up in the aftermath of the flood - thankfully it just made a mess, and didn't cause any major structural damages!
The next morning was our first full experience of a Kenyan Sunday Mass - and that's enough for a post all by itself :)
Thursday, August 25, 2011
That Which is Good is Never Finished
My heart and my journal are full of stories that might take a while to get onto this blog... but as we are preparing to start our long journey home, I wanted to take a moment to share with all of you.
Our third and final camp comes to a close tomorrow. We've had over 450 children come through these gates in the last three weeks. 450 children with 450 different stories, families, tribes, and even villages. Tomorrow evening we will be joined by our fellow VLMs serving in Chepnyal, before we all leave Kitale on Sunday morning. We will stay the night in Thigio, and hopefully get to see the Dream Center for pregnant women with Aids that the Daughters run in Nairobi on Monday. Tuesday, we will begin our long saga of flights home.
May God continue to bless each and every one of you - and please continue to keep us in prayer. I'll be back soon!
Our third and final camp comes to a close tomorrow. We've had over 450 children come through these gates in the last three weeks. 450 children with 450 different stories, families, tribes, and even villages. Tomorrow evening we will be joined by our fellow VLMs serving in Chepnyal, before we all leave Kitale on Sunday morning. We will stay the night in Thigio, and hopefully get to see the Dream Center for pregnant women with Aids that the Daughters run in Nairobi on Monday. Tuesday, we will begin our long saga of flights home.
May God continue to bless each and every one of you - and please continue to keep us in prayer. I'll be back soon!
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Transitions
Our second camp comes to a close tomorrow. Our final group of 150 children will be joining us for the first time on Monday. Transition has become a buzzword we use many times a day - the children transition from station to station within a class time, the children transition from class to class, the younger children go home after lunch and we transition to our camp for the older children in the afternoon, and each week, one group completes the camp while we transition into preparing for the next.
Those tangible transitions are easy to focus on. The interior transitions are far more difficult to explain. The true Vincentian question, "What must be done?" has become a permanent part of my prayer. These children need so much more, beyond the tip of the iceberg we are experiencing in this camp. Systemic change cannot be accomplished by one camp, but it can light a fire in the souls of these children, and especially in the people of this community.
Please continue to pray for us! We have just crossed the halfway point of our time in Kenya. I look forward to sharing much more with you in the coming weeks.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Jambo from Kitale!
Jambo Rafikis! (Hello friends!) Greetings from the beautiful country of Kenya
We just completed week 1 of our camp! We’ve had many successes and some interesting challenges along the way, but overall I feel that it was a huge success. We said farewell to our first group this afternoon.
There are many thoughts I’m wrestling with at the moment – mostly about the best ways to affect systemic change for the harsh poverty surrounding us. Just having these children for a week, and then sending them on their way, is no small task. My heart has been broken by their struggles and been healed again by their smiles more times than I could count this week, and I know next week will bring the same. As time helps me unfold my thoughts, I will share them as I can.
For now, know that we are all well, and we appreciate your prayers as we plan for our next group of children!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Go Without Knowing
One of my favorite songs, sung by Sandi Patty, always reminds and challenges me to give everything I have. It's one of my aspirations for this journey. As I'm heading to the airport, I share with you the lyrics on my mind.
I'd go without knowing
Do without doubting
Face without fearing
Any road in front of me
I'd give without glory
Love without limits
Go without knowing
"If my life could be
All my life should be
I would learn to trust God
At every turn
I would hear His words
And my heart would surrender then
Truly depend on Him
I'd go without knowing
Do without doubting
Face without fearing
Any road in front of me
I'd give without glory
Love without limits
Go without knowing
Wherever He may lead
If my eyes could be opened wide
I'd be blind to me
So I could see what He sees
Beyond asking why
I would take up my cross and still
Gladly lay down my will.
All my life should be
I would learn to trust God
At every turn
I would hear His words
And my heart would surrender then
Truly depend on Him
I'd go without knowing
Do without doubting
Face without fearing
Any road in front of me
I'd give without glory
Love without limits
Go without knowing
Wherever He may lead
If my eyes could be opened wide
I'd be blind to me
So I could see what He sees
Beyond asking why
I would take up my cross and still
Gladly lay down my will.
Do without doubting
Face without fearing
Any road in front of me
I'd give without glory
Love without limits
Go without knowing
Wherever He may lead."
Even Kenya...
Please pray for all of the VLMs traveling today! God-willing, I will share news with you from Kitale in the near future!
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Packing
During Orientation, one of the other coordinators, Gina, gave a beautiful reflection on thinking about what we are (emotionally) packing for our journey. I've thought a lot this past month about packing - everything from malaria pills to school supplies to shoes. Today, as I'm putting the final touches on my suitcases, I feel like I am bringing an overabundance of "things." First aid kits, clothing, electronics - it's all there. Granted, I know that I will leave many things behind, but it still feels like an inordinate amount of stuff.
The most important bag I'm packing doesn't take any room though.
First, I feel that I am packing a complete and total reliance on God. There is nothing like preparing to lead a mission trip to a third world country to make you realize your own limitations. However, I know that "with God, all things are possible." (Mt. 19:26) Plans will change, things will happen - but no matter what, if we retain our reliance on God, His Will will unfold.
Second, I'm packing my vulnerability. My brokenness. I know that this experience will change me, will change the way I think about things, and cause me to grow tremendously as a person. If I knew what that would look like, I would have already tried to change and grow in these ways. It's uncharted territory. I am eager to allow these things about myself to be transformed through this experience.
I was incredibly humbled in a conversation the other day, by realizing just how little I know about the history and current situation of the people we are going to serve. Reading a few books and articles could never tell you the story of a people. However, the most important thing I'm bringing is really what ties this all together and makes this journey Vincentian. I'm bringing myself, my presence. I may not have a doctoral thesis on how to solve their issues of hunger or poverty, I may not have millions of dollars to create foundations, I may not even have a very good working knowledge of their language or their culture - but that's not why I'm going. I'm going there to love. The Vincentian charism is about recognizing the beauty, the dignity of every human person. I hope, through my presence, to tell every person I meet in Kitale that they are valued and they are loved. If there is one thing that still stays with me from my time in Ethiopia, it is that they have far more to teach me than I could ever teach them. And knowing this, I bring myself - and I hope to let them teach me how to serve them.
I depart tomorrow, still full of unknowns, but especially with great excitement. I'm packing my nervousness, but I know that's one thing that won't be coming home with me. I'm eager to see what those returning suitcases will hold.
The most important bag I'm packing doesn't take any room though.
First, I feel that I am packing a complete and total reliance on God. There is nothing like preparing to lead a mission trip to a third world country to make you realize your own limitations. However, I know that "with God, all things are possible." (Mt. 19:26) Plans will change, things will happen - but no matter what, if we retain our reliance on God, His Will will unfold.
Second, I'm packing my vulnerability. My brokenness. I know that this experience will change me, will change the way I think about things, and cause me to grow tremendously as a person. If I knew what that would look like, I would have already tried to change and grow in these ways. It's uncharted territory. I am eager to allow these things about myself to be transformed through this experience.
I was incredibly humbled in a conversation the other day, by realizing just how little I know about the history and current situation of the people we are going to serve. Reading a few books and articles could never tell you the story of a people. However, the most important thing I'm bringing is really what ties this all together and makes this journey Vincentian. I'm bringing myself, my presence. I may not have a doctoral thesis on how to solve their issues of hunger or poverty, I may not have millions of dollars to create foundations, I may not even have a very good working knowledge of their language or their culture - but that's not why I'm going. I'm going there to love. The Vincentian charism is about recognizing the beauty, the dignity of every human person. I hope, through my presence, to tell every person I meet in Kitale that they are valued and they are loved. If there is one thing that still stays with me from my time in Ethiopia, it is that they have far more to teach me than I could ever teach them. And knowing this, I bring myself - and I hope to let them teach me how to serve them.
I depart tomorrow, still full of unknowns, but especially with great excitement. I'm packing my nervousness, but I know that's one thing that won't be coming home with me. I'm eager to see what those returning suitcases will hold.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Letting Go
Sometimes I feel that time has sped up this month. It seems like yesterday that I left for Chicago to be a part of Orientation. Nervous and excited, we spent time developing our community as well as planning our camp. At the end of Oriention, we sent off the Ethiopia VLMs, who are currently finishing their service in Bahir Dar. Somehow, amidst busy work schedules, family visits, and summer activities, 4 weeks vanished. 10 days from now, I'll be on my flight from San Francisco to Amsterdam. There I will find the three volunteers I am taking to Kitale (Amy, Emily, and Caitlin), along with the rest of the VLMs headed to Kenya. We will depart Amsterdam for Nairobi, where the Daughters of Charity will meet us and take us to our individual sites. The group going to Chepanyl will head West with us, while the Kioo group will head East. All three of these sites are part of the Daughters of Charity ministry in Kenya, but we will be the pioneering VLMs to set up their first children's summer camps.
Sometimes, though, I feel as though time has stopped. As a college student, summers were always a time of transition and travel for me, and spending the summer of 2008 in Ethiopia did not seem unusual or difficult. I'm quickly discovering that life after college, particularly married life, is just a little bit different. As the reality of putting every part of my life on hold for the month of August has set in, I've found myself absorbing special moments like a sponge - soaking up every last drop. Wonderful conversations with friends, rare moments just sitting and enjoying my husband's company, joyful masses (in English!) - I feel these times being absorbed into my being, tucked away for any hard times that lay in the journey ahead.
Preparing to leave for a month has involved a lot of work - orchestrating all the different aspects of my life to run on autopilot. Some things are simply delegated; others require a lot of advance work. Whatever the case may be, I've had to realize that not everything will get done - and that's ok! As an admitted over-achiever, this hasn't always been easy. However, I have great hope in knowing I am going exactly where God wants me to be next month. The "urgent" is so easy to have supercede the "important" in our life's priorities. As my time is now limited, I find myself forced to let go of things I want, in order to be where God wants me to be.
Let Go, and Let God. A dear college friend once gave me a small worry stone with that inscription. In these last 10 days of preparations for going to Kenya, I am increasingly aware that what I'm bringing is myself. Packing lists have to be checked, affairs placed in order, details finalized - but at the end of the day, all I can really do is show up, and make myself available to be used as God's instrument. No amount of crayons or paper or soccer balls could replace someone being present, letting the children be children - helping them create art, learn to play games, or share a simple meal in a safe environment.
I have to let go of my time, and let God take care of the rest.
Sometimes, though, I feel as though time has stopped. As a college student, summers were always a time of transition and travel for me, and spending the summer of 2008 in Ethiopia did not seem unusual or difficult. I'm quickly discovering that life after college, particularly married life, is just a little bit different. As the reality of putting every part of my life on hold for the month of August has set in, I've found myself absorbing special moments like a sponge - soaking up every last drop. Wonderful conversations with friends, rare moments just sitting and enjoying my husband's company, joyful masses (in English!) - I feel these times being absorbed into my being, tucked away for any hard times that lay in the journey ahead.
Preparing to leave for a month has involved a lot of work - orchestrating all the different aspects of my life to run on autopilot. Some things are simply delegated; others require a lot of advance work. Whatever the case may be, I've had to realize that not everything will get done - and that's ok! As an admitted over-achiever, this hasn't always been easy. However, I have great hope in knowing I am going exactly where God wants me to be next month. The "urgent" is so easy to have supercede the "important" in our life's priorities. As my time is now limited, I find myself forced to let go of things I want, in order to be where God wants me to be.
Let Go, and Let God. A dear college friend once gave me a small worry stone with that inscription. In these last 10 days of preparations for going to Kenya, I am increasingly aware that what I'm bringing is myself. Packing lists have to be checked, affairs placed in order, details finalized - but at the end of the day, all I can really do is show up, and make myself available to be used as God's instrument. No amount of crayons or paper or soccer balls could replace someone being present, letting the children be children - helping them create art, learn to play games, or share a simple meal in a safe environment.
I have to let go of my time, and let God take care of the rest.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
The Fresh Taste of Summer
With everything going on this month, it has been difficult to be a regular blogger! I am getting on today to share some quick updates.
1) VLM Orientation starts on Monday! Please keep us in your prayers as the volunteers travel to Chicago from all over the country. There are fifteen of us total (four returnees, including myself, and a fifth as well serving as site coordinators for the other ten). This will be the first time we will all be together since we began this journey long distance late last fall. There will be plenty of new faces, and lots of reunion hugs as well!
2) I am officially starting my new work with the Daughters of Charity here in the Bay Area, serving as Coordinator for Vincentian Educator Formation. It is a very exciting position, and I am loving being able to work in Vincentian Formation as a career! This will definitely be overlapping into my sharing about the Vincentian charism with you all.
3) I had a beautifully successful fundraiser two weeks ago at Our Lady of Lourdes Parish in my hometown of Jordan, Oregon. My heart is overwhelmed by the generosity of money and school supplies that were donated to the VLM cause. If you have any further donations you would like to share with us (either before this trip, or in preparation for next year's volunteers) please don't hesitate to contact me! You can also visit our website for more information on e-donating, or mailing items to our director, Jessica Werner.
Thank you all so much for your prayers, donations, and for sharing the message of this beautiful ministry. I will be back in July!
1) VLM Orientation starts on Monday! Please keep us in your prayers as the volunteers travel to Chicago from all over the country. There are fifteen of us total (four returnees, including myself, and a fifth as well serving as site coordinators for the other ten). This will be the first time we will all be together since we began this journey long distance late last fall. There will be plenty of new faces, and lots of reunion hugs as well!
2) I am officially starting my new work with the Daughters of Charity here in the Bay Area, serving as Coordinator for Vincentian Educator Formation. It is a very exciting position, and I am loving being able to work in Vincentian Formation as a career! This will definitely be overlapping into my sharing about the Vincentian charism with you all.
3) I had a beautifully successful fundraiser two weeks ago at Our Lady of Lourdes Parish in my hometown of Jordan, Oregon. My heart is overwhelmed by the generosity of money and school supplies that were donated to the VLM cause. If you have any further donations you would like to share with us (either before this trip, or in preparation for next year's volunteers) please don't hesitate to contact me! You can also visit our website for more information on e-donating, or mailing items to our director, Jessica Werner.
Thank you all so much for your prayers, donations, and for sharing the message of this beautiful ministry. I will be back in July!
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Preparation
VLMs are in the thick of preparations! It's a very busy month, with volunteers graduating, finishing classes/finals, working, and preparing to be gone for an entire month of their summer.
For 3 days at the end of June, all of the groups heading to Kenya and Ethiopia will gather in Chicago to reflect, learn, build community, and gather necessary materials for our journey. Orientation will be a unique time for all 15 of the volunteers to get to know each other, especially since we will be doing our ministries in small groups of 3-5. The coordinators are preparing sessions on the Vincentian charism, community building, our service, culture tips for our work in Africa, etc. It will be a busy 3 days, full of valuable information and fun!
The Ethiopian group will be leaving directly from orientation, and will spend the entire month of July in Bahir Dar, Ethiopia. This location has such a special place in my heart! They will be working with the teachers at the Blessed Gebre Micael school, sharing new teaching methods and pedagogy. Please pray for them in their final few weeks of preparation.
The remaining three groups traveling to Kenya will go back home for the month of July, and we will all meet up en route to Kenya in August! There is much left to be done, but the excitement is definitely rising.
As I've been preparing materials for formation and for the upcoming orientation, I've been thinking a lot about this notion of preparation. As Christians, we are asked to always prepare - for we will know neither the day nor the hour of the Lord's coming. We prepare our homes for guests, we prepare our minds for the workplace, we prepare our hearts for God.
I heard an interesting quote tonight at mass that I would like to leave you with - about preparing and living lives centered on Christ.
"If being Christian were a crime, would there be enough evidence to convict you?"
For 3 days at the end of June, all of the groups heading to Kenya and Ethiopia will gather in Chicago to reflect, learn, build community, and gather necessary materials for our journey. Orientation will be a unique time for all 15 of the volunteers to get to know each other, especially since we will be doing our ministries in small groups of 3-5. The coordinators are preparing sessions on the Vincentian charism, community building, our service, culture tips for our work in Africa, etc. It will be a busy 3 days, full of valuable information and fun!
The Ethiopian group will be leaving directly from orientation, and will spend the entire month of July in Bahir Dar, Ethiopia. This location has such a special place in my heart! They will be working with the teachers at the Blessed Gebre Micael school, sharing new teaching methods and pedagogy. Please pray for them in their final few weeks of preparation.
The remaining three groups traveling to Kenya will go back home for the month of July, and we will all meet up en route to Kenya in August! There is much left to be done, but the excitement is definitely rising.
As I've been preparing materials for formation and for the upcoming orientation, I've been thinking a lot about this notion of preparation. As Christians, we are asked to always prepare - for we will know neither the day nor the hour of the Lord's coming. We prepare our homes for guests, we prepare our minds for the workplace, we prepare our hearts for God.
I heard an interesting quote tonight at mass that I would like to leave you with - about preparing and living lives centered on Christ.
"If being Christian were a crime, would there be enough evidence to convict you?"
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Building the Vincentian Community
"The more you give to our Lord, the more blessings you will receive. His yoke is sweet to him who embraces it willingly." -St. Vincent de Paul
I was blessed with the opportunity to be a part of a Vincentian Founders Festival on Thursday in Los Angeles. The idea behind the day was simple: two different elementary schools, run by the Daughters of Charity, joined together for fellowship and to do service together.
It was an incredible experience to be a "fly on the wall." As with all Vincentian endeavors, these schools minister to the poor and marginalized. You wouldn't have known it on Thursday though - with the children in each grade level wearing matching T-shirt colors, you couldn't even tell the two schools apart - and with the excitement the children had for their service projects, you could see they did not consider themselves to be "the poor."
As I wandered into the 4th grade classroom, I saw busy children in matching green T-shirts, taking turns between eagerly decorating lunch bags or making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Their task was to make sack lunches to be given to the homeless, and they took special care to decorate everything with crosses and symbols of love. Busy about their work, they scarcely noticed me. Visiting the 1st grade classroom was a little different - bubbling over with excitement in their dark red T-shirts, they were practicing their new writing skills on cards for kids in the local children's hospital. Each table I stopped at couldn't wait to show me the words they had carefully written, the pictures they had painstakingly drawn.
But service projects aside, Thursday was also about building community; not just any community, but Vincentian community. The day was started by cheering and singing about St. Louise de Marillac and St. Vincent de Paul, and we celebrated Mass together in St. Vincent's church. These children are taught every day by loving and committed teachers and staff, who remind them that they must always take care of those who are less fortunate. An entire generation of young Vincentians - who made new friends, shared lunch tables, and cheerfully served others.
This is such a powerful embodiment of what the Vincentian Lay Missionaries (and indeed, the entire Vincentian Family) are all about. We seek to not just serve the poor, but to enliven the young adults who participate in the program, and to teach them how to be Vincentian. These Vincentian schools exist to serve the children and their families, providing quality education for those who can't afford it. This Founders Day was not just about serving the children, though - it was about teaching the children to serve others. About growing the Vincentian family, sharing the message of St. Vincent de Paul with anyone who will take it to heart. There is no distinction between rich and poor - all that remain are children of God.
I was blessed with the opportunity to be a part of a Vincentian Founders Festival on Thursday in Los Angeles. The idea behind the day was simple: two different elementary schools, run by the Daughters of Charity, joined together for fellowship and to do service together.
It was an incredible experience to be a "fly on the wall." As with all Vincentian endeavors, these schools minister to the poor and marginalized. You wouldn't have known it on Thursday though - with the children in each grade level wearing matching T-shirt colors, you couldn't even tell the two schools apart - and with the excitement the children had for their service projects, you could see they did not consider themselves to be "the poor."
As I wandered into the 4th grade classroom, I saw busy children in matching green T-shirts, taking turns between eagerly decorating lunch bags or making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Their task was to make sack lunches to be given to the homeless, and they took special care to decorate everything with crosses and symbols of love. Busy about their work, they scarcely noticed me. Visiting the 1st grade classroom was a little different - bubbling over with excitement in their dark red T-shirts, they were practicing their new writing skills on cards for kids in the local children's hospital. Each table I stopped at couldn't wait to show me the words they had carefully written, the pictures they had painstakingly drawn.
But service projects aside, Thursday was also about building community; not just any community, but Vincentian community. The day was started by cheering and singing about St. Louise de Marillac and St. Vincent de Paul, and we celebrated Mass together in St. Vincent's church. These children are taught every day by loving and committed teachers and staff, who remind them that they must always take care of those who are less fortunate. An entire generation of young Vincentians - who made new friends, shared lunch tables, and cheerfully served others.
This is such a powerful embodiment of what the Vincentian Lay Missionaries (and indeed, the entire Vincentian Family) are all about. We seek to not just serve the poor, but to enliven the young adults who participate in the program, and to teach them how to be Vincentian. These Vincentian schools exist to serve the children and their families, providing quality education for those who can't afford it. This Founders Day was not just about serving the children, though - it was about teaching the children to serve others. About growing the Vincentian family, sharing the message of St. Vincent de Paul with anyone who will take it to heart. There is no distinction between rich and poor - all that remain are children of God.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Being Present with the Abstract
I’m finding that, much like before my first trip to Africa, it is very easy to get caught up in day to day activity. Between work, relationships, chores and projects, sometimes someone saying “You’re going to Africa?!” almost catches me off-guard.
I believe there is some value in this. For example, one of the most interesting cultural differences I learned in Ethiopia was the idea of living in the moment. Jesus tells us only to worry about today, because tomorrow will have enough cares of its own. There have been so many times in my life where I’ve found myself just counting down to the next stage – it’s actually quite refreshing to find myself caught up in the cares of today. If you constantly live in a state of preparation for tomorrow, you won’t notice today’s beauty!
It’s not all upside though. I also think in our culture, it’s very common to supersede the important with the urgent. Everyone is always in a hurry because things needed to “be done yesterday.” Finding ways to live in the moment with God, is a different thing altogether. Being present to abstract realities - preparation for mission, spiritual exercises, etc - takes dedicating time from our lives. There is a time to sow, and a time to reap.
My goal for this week is to spend some real time, not just "spare time," offering our upcoming VLM journey to God. Please continue to pray for our volunteers, our worksites, and our mission - and may we all become more in tune with the abstract in our lives.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
The Growth of the Every Day
It's amazing how quickly time flies! The past few weeks have been a blur of activity - and sometimes it takes being a little under the weather for me to slow down.
The thought that's been bouncing around in my head these last few weeks is taking time to notice the growth we are experiencing every day. Slightly different than just "stopping to smell the roses," this notion of growth calls us to deeper reflection. For example, I just started working part time as a nanny for a 6 month old girl. For anyone who hasn't been a parent, being a full time caregiver for an infant is a very demanding job. They are dependent for every need, and have no real way to communicate any of those needs except for expressing discomfort - usually in the form of very pitiful tears.
Given my life choices, it's obvious that I love to work with children. However, this job is giving me new challenges. In small, every day ways, I've noticed that caring for this child is giving me a deeper capacity to love, purely for the sake of love and not for any returns. Much like working with the very ill and elderly as I did in Lexington, this can be a job of few (communicated) rewards. I find myself growing in the process, though. I find myself desiring to give more - that this little girl is a child of God, and no matter how hard the day is, she is His, and she is loved.
In the example of St. Therese of the Little Flower, I feel we are each called to grow in small ways. To step outside of our comfort zones, even for a minute, to share God's love. It could be a smile with a stranger in the grocery store, or a homeless man on the street, or even with a neighbor who's hands are too full to open their front door. Wherever we are comfortable, we should go one tiny bit further. Our comfort zone will continue to grow. Like any health plan requires daily effort and long term pay-offs, this small every day spiritual growth will blossom in our lives, bringing us closer to the One who made us.
The thought that's been bouncing around in my head these last few weeks is taking time to notice the growth we are experiencing every day. Slightly different than just "stopping to smell the roses," this notion of growth calls us to deeper reflection. For example, I just started working part time as a nanny for a 6 month old girl. For anyone who hasn't been a parent, being a full time caregiver for an infant is a very demanding job. They are dependent for every need, and have no real way to communicate any of those needs except for expressing discomfort - usually in the form of very pitiful tears.
Given my life choices, it's obvious that I love to work with children. However, this job is giving me new challenges. In small, every day ways, I've noticed that caring for this child is giving me a deeper capacity to love, purely for the sake of love and not for any returns. Much like working with the very ill and elderly as I did in Lexington, this can be a job of few (communicated) rewards. I find myself growing in the process, though. I find myself desiring to give more - that this little girl is a child of God, and no matter how hard the day is, she is His, and she is loved.
In the example of St. Therese of the Little Flower, I feel we are each called to grow in small ways. To step outside of our comfort zones, even for a minute, to share God's love. It could be a smile with a stranger in the grocery store, or a homeless man on the street, or even with a neighbor who's hands are too full to open their front door. Wherever we are comfortable, we should go one tiny bit further. Our comfort zone will continue to grow. Like any health plan requires daily effort and long term pay-offs, this small every day spiritual growth will blossom in our lives, bringing us closer to the One who made us.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Holy Week
Holy Week has always been one of my favorite weeks of the year! Rich in history, tradition, and liturgy, I have been captivated by these services since childhood. This has been my first year "on my own" so to speak, where there was no built in Easter holiday from work or from school. These past few weeks have flown by in such a blur, between traveling, retreat, job interviews and projects - to the point where Holy Week even caught me off guard! As I was hauling loads of laundry and returning phone calls today, I wondered to myself where that quiet space and the time to reflect had gone.
That's when it hit me. Reflection is work in progress so to speak. Without it, we can't grow, spiritually or emotionally. The Christian life calls us to be still, and know He is God. Reflection does not always just happen in our lives, unless we make time for it and turn our focus on the Lord. For the first time, this year I had a taste of how "normal" Holy Week can seem if you don't strive to make time for God. The Church sets it aside as a beautiful time to really re-live the messages in the Gospel - to feel, smell, hear, taste the very experiences, to renew our commitment to Christ, and to our community. As I watched the Dominican priests last night in their veneration of the cross on Good Friday, they slowly walked down the center aisle, stopping to prostrate themselves every few pews. It occurred to me how strange it must all look to someone from the outside - why are these grown men kneeling and bowing dozens of times before just kissing the wood of the cross?
Holy Week is a chance to reconnect with family. Not just our biological family, but our Catholic Christian family. We hear the stories of our forefathers, we gather together, and share a common meal. The rich traditions and liturgies are designed to make us stop and think, to remember, to ponder - to reflect.
And so, on this holiest of nights, when we welcome all of the new members into the faith, I have stopped to reflect. To thank God for all the many gifts He has given me. To enjoy and to celebrate my family - especially my Catholic family. I pray that you all have a blessed Easter!
That's when it hit me. Reflection is work in progress so to speak. Without it, we can't grow, spiritually or emotionally. The Christian life calls us to be still, and know He is God. Reflection does not always just happen in our lives, unless we make time for it and turn our focus on the Lord. For the first time, this year I had a taste of how "normal" Holy Week can seem if you don't strive to make time for God. The Church sets it aside as a beautiful time to really re-live the messages in the Gospel - to feel, smell, hear, taste the very experiences, to renew our commitment to Christ, and to our community. As I watched the Dominican priests last night in their veneration of the cross on Good Friday, they slowly walked down the center aisle, stopping to prostrate themselves every few pews. It occurred to me how strange it must all look to someone from the outside - why are these grown men kneeling and bowing dozens of times before just kissing the wood of the cross?
Holy Week is a chance to reconnect with family. Not just our biological family, but our Catholic Christian family. We hear the stories of our forefathers, we gather together, and share a common meal. The rich traditions and liturgies are designed to make us stop and think, to remember, to ponder - to reflect.
And so, on this holiest of nights, when we welcome all of the new members into the faith, I have stopped to reflect. To thank God for all the many gifts He has given me. To enjoy and to celebrate my family - especially my Catholic family. I pray that you all have a blessed Easter!
Thursday, April 7, 2011
So, Where IS This Place Anyway?
I have yet to actually write anything about Kitale, the city where we will be living and working this summer!
For those of you interested in facts and statistics, here's a quick overview of the city:
Languages: (Official) Swahili and English (Local Province) Bukusu dialect, Keiyo, Kipsigis, Kiswahili, Maasai, Markweeta, Nandi, Okiek, Omotik, Sabaot, Terik, and Turkana
Population: Urban is estimated at 220,000
Main Industry: Agriculture
Location: The Rift Valley Province (near Kenya's Western border with Uganda)
Simply Googling Kitale will provide you with a map, Wikipedia article, a few blogs, and tourist information. It is a city surrounded by a rural area, where the main crops are sunflower, tea, coffee, seed beans, seed maize, and Pyrethrum (flowers in the Chrysanthemum family).
Our ministry will be with the street children - providing them a safe and educational place to be during the school holiday. We will be working with about 150 children per weekly camp, ages 5-14. Instead of hosting one-month long camp as VLM has done in the past, the Kitale site will host three 1-week camps, allowing us to serve a total of 450 children during our stay!
We're now in the preliminary stages of planning our daily agendas for the camp! It is an exciting time for the coordinators and the volunteers, as we examine the supplies and skill sets available for each site in Kenya. There will be 11 of us, working in 3 different cities. In Kitale, there will be three adventurous college students in addition to myself. Please pray for us during this planning process! Of course, as with any volunteering plan, everything is subject to change - and we know not the day nor the hour!
As we enter into this 5th weekend of Lent, the last week of Lent before Holy Week begins, I pray for all of us preparing our hearts and minds for the physical journey we will undertake this summer. Please continue to pray for all of the volunteers, coordinators, directors, our Daughter of Charity hostesses in Kenya and Ethiopia, and the people we will serve.
For those of you interested in facts and statistics, here's a quick overview of the city:
Languages: (Official) Swahili and English (Local Province) Bukusu dialect, Keiyo, Kipsigis, Kiswahili, Maasai, Markweeta, Nandi, Okiek, Omotik, Sabaot, Terik, and Turkana
Population: Urban is estimated at 220,000
Main Industry: Agriculture
Location: The Rift Valley Province (near Kenya's Western border with Uganda)
Simply Googling Kitale will provide you with a map, Wikipedia article, a few blogs, and tourist information. It is a city surrounded by a rural area, where the main crops are sunflower, tea, coffee, seed beans, seed maize, and Pyrethrum (flowers in the Chrysanthemum family).
Our ministry will be with the street children - providing them a safe and educational place to be during the school holiday. We will be working with about 150 children per weekly camp, ages 5-14. Instead of hosting one-month long camp as VLM has done in the past, the Kitale site will host three 1-week camps, allowing us to serve a total of 450 children during our stay!
We're now in the preliminary stages of planning our daily agendas for the camp! It is an exciting time for the coordinators and the volunteers, as we examine the supplies and skill sets available for each site in Kenya. There will be 11 of us, working in 3 different cities. In Kitale, there will be three adventurous college students in addition to myself. Please pray for us during this planning process! Of course, as with any volunteering plan, everything is subject to change - and we know not the day nor the hour!
As we enter into this 5th weekend of Lent, the last week of Lent before Holy Week begins, I pray for all of us preparing our hearts and minds for the physical journey we will undertake this summer. Please continue to pray for all of the volunteers, coordinators, directors, our Daughter of Charity hostesses in Kenya and Ethiopia, and the people we will serve.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
What a Difference a Day Makes
Yesterday, Evan and I took a trip to Alcatraz. This was a very interesting journey, and we had a lot of fun exploring the national park. As history gurus, seeing the old buildings and hearing explanations of what things really looked like 50, 100, 200 years ago, was quite fascinating! What truly strikes me about the experience though, after having some time to think about it, is how close the prison of the early 20th century was to the central hub of San Francisco activity. Only a mile out into the Bay, the Alcatraz federal prison was simultaneously a next door neighbor, and a shunned and forgotten wasteland.
It amazes me how easy it is to forget the plights of our nearest brothers and sisters, in our big picture desires for changing situations and helping others. At St. John's, each year on Founder's Day (the Feast of St. Vincent de Paul on September 27th) we would hold "University Service Day." There were no classes, and every organization, club, faculty group, etc on campus was encouraged to participate. The slogan was "What a Difference a Day Makes." And it's true - unleashing thousands of volunteers in the New York City landscape, hundreds of projects could all be accomplished at once. Organizations had their storage areas sorted and organized, elderly folks had their yards cleared, soup kitchen staff could take a break on the lunch line and clean up duty for a day. Every organization sought out a service experience that fit with the members and purpose of their group. We all wore matching T-shirts, and people would stop and ask us who we were, and what we were about.
A day really can raise awareness, and one person can really make a difference. I recently stumbled on one such awareness campaign, geared towards helping children in Africa (and around the world), that I would like to share with you. It is happening this week, on Tuesday, April 5th!
One Day Without Shoes is a campaign sponsored by TOMS Shoes. The call to action is to go about a normal daily activity on Tuesday, only without shoes! This is such a seemingly strange and out of place idea in this country, and no doubt, people will stop and ask questions. That is how this will raise awareness - every day, thousands of children in this world go without shoes.
Who is TOMS Shoes?
In 2006, American traveler Blake Mycoskie befriended children in Argentina and found they had no shoes to protect their feet. Wanting to help, he created TOMS Shoes, a company that matches every pair of shoes purchased with a pair of new shoes given to a child in need. One for One. Blake returned to Argentina with a group of family, friends and staff later that year with 10,000 pairs of shoes made possible by TOMS
customers.
Many children in developing countries grow up barefoot. Whether at play, doing chores or going to school, these children are at risk:
It amazes me how easy it is to forget the plights of our nearest brothers and sisters, in our big picture desires for changing situations and helping others. At St. John's, each year on Founder's Day (the Feast of St. Vincent de Paul on September 27th) we would hold "University Service Day." There were no classes, and every organization, club, faculty group, etc on campus was encouraged to participate. The slogan was "What a Difference a Day Makes." And it's true - unleashing thousands of volunteers in the New York City landscape, hundreds of projects could all be accomplished at once. Organizations had their storage areas sorted and organized, elderly folks had their yards cleared, soup kitchen staff could take a break on the lunch line and clean up duty for a day. Every organization sought out a service experience that fit with the members and purpose of their group. We all wore matching T-shirts, and people would stop and ask us who we were, and what we were about.
A day really can raise awareness, and one person can really make a difference. I recently stumbled on one such awareness campaign, geared towards helping children in Africa (and around the world), that I would like to share with you. It is happening this week, on Tuesday, April 5th!
One Day Without Shoes is a campaign sponsored by TOMS Shoes. The call to action is to go about a normal daily activity on Tuesday, only without shoes! This is such a seemingly strange and out of place idea in this country, and no doubt, people will stop and ask questions. That is how this will raise awareness - every day, thousands of children in this world go without shoes.
Who is TOMS Shoes?
In 2006, American traveler Blake Mycoskie befriended children in Argentina and found they had no shoes to protect their feet. Wanting to help, he created TOMS Shoes, a company that matches every pair of shoes purchased with a pair of new shoes given to a child in need. One for One. Blake returned to Argentina with a group of family, friends and staff later that year with 10,000 pairs of shoes made possible by TOMS
customers.
Why Shoes?
Many children in developing countries grow up barefoot. Whether at play, doing chores or going to school, these children are at risk:
•A leading cause of disease in developing countries is soil-transmitted diseases, which can penetrate the skin through bare feet. Wearing shoes can help prevent these diseases, and the long-term physical and cognitive harm they cause.
•Wearing shoes also prevents feet from getting cuts and sores. Not only are these injuries painful, they also are dangerous when wounds become infected.
•Many times children can't attend school barefoot because shoes are a required part of their uniform. If they don't have shoes, they don't go to school. If they don't receive an education, they don't have the opportunity to realize their potential.
Please check out One Day Without Shoes' website!
A Little Bit Goes a Long Way!
VLM is always in need of monetary and supply donations. If you feel called to help with either ministry, more information about what supplies are needed, and how to donate online can be found on our website. Please feel free to share this website with your friends and family!
http://vlm-usa.org
Here is an excerpt from our website on how you can help!
Friends and supporters enable VLM to continue working with the poor in Africa. Your generosity also helps VLM to sponsor various, on-going projects in both countries, in order to work for our mission of creating systemic change. To date, donations have made it possible for VLM to:
http://vlm-usa.org
Here is an excerpt from our website on how you can help!
Friends and supporters enable VLM to continue working with the poor in Africa. Your generosity also helps VLM to sponsor various, on-going projects in both countries, in order to work for our mission of creating systemic change. To date, donations have made it possible for VLM to:
- Sponsor the education of 100 children in Bahir Dar and Jimma, Ethiopia who would otherwise not be in school
- Construct 3 new classrooms and a school library for the St. Gebre Michael Catholic School in Bahir Dar, Ethiopia, allowing 200 additional children to attend school and learn with books
- Purchase a bus in Bahir Dar that will enable children to attend school during the rainy season
- Build a primary school serving 300 children in the Ginjo and Tulema communities in Jimma, Ethiopia
- Construct and stock a new libraries in Thigio, Kenya and Bahir Dar, Ethiopia
- Sponsor a health care and nutrition program for 200 people in Thigio, Kenya, providing vaccinations to protect against disease
- Facilitate camps serving 200 children in Nairobi and Thigio, Kenya.
Current Needs:
- Educational supplies are needed in all sites in Ethiopia and Kenya. Books, teachers aids, and other instructional materials provide the teachers with the resources necessary to help the students reach their full potential. These supplies are not readily available in either country. Amount needed: $5,000
- Volunteers are an essential component of VLM. They donate their time and energy for one month each year to work with children in impoverished communities. Volunteers fundraise to help offset the cost of their trip, however, additional funds are needed to secure flights and insurance for volunteers who are traveling to Africa. Amount needed: $15,000
How can I help?
Please consider making a monetary donation to VLM. A little bit goes a long way:
- $10 can purchase 2 children’s books to help children learn how to read in Ethiopia
- $20 will buy 12 packs of pencils benefiting 120 children in African schools
- $25 can purchase a travel visa for a volunteer
- $60 can cover the cost of health care and vaccinations for 1 person in Thigio, Kenya
- $150 can sponsor the education of a child in Ethiopia for one year; including tuition, lunch, books, and a school uniform
- $1,000 can provide a 3 week educational camp for 150 children in Kenya
Are you interested in making a tax-deductible donation to the Vincentian Lay Missionaries? Checks can be made payable to Daughters of Charity and mailed directly to:
Vincentian Lay Missionaries
2950 Fillmore Street NE
Minneapolis, MN 55418
2950 Fillmore Street NE
Minneapolis, MN 55418
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Vincentian in Spirit
As I rode the bus down to the Mission today, I saw a poster of Archbishop Oscar Romero that got me thinking.
Today marks the 31st anniversary of Romero's martyrdom - "The Bishop of the Poor". Like St. Vincent, Romero did not start out desiring to do great things or save a nation. He is even described as timid and ascetic in the years before he was ordained as a bishop. However, like Vincent, he had a conversion experience while being directly involved with the poor. After the brutal murder of one of his priests and two of the priest's parishioners, Romero saw the terror in the eyes of the poor and helpless flock. As with Vincent's conversion in hearing the confession of a dying poor man, Romero realized he was being called to help those no one else would help. He joined the poor in solidarity against the oppression of the government, and was persecuted and killed for doing so. The process for beatification and canonization is under way, and he was given the title Servant of God by Pope John Paul II.
What strikes me the most about these two men isn't their amazing successes, but their roots. We are all called to be saints - in our Christian baptism, we are called to be priest, prophet and king. How often do we really consider our role on the path to sainthood? Vincent became a priest to make money and help his family. He lived a very comfortable life as a family chaplain, until the day he encountered Jesus in a dying man. I wonder how many times I have encountered Jesus, without even taking the time to notice or care. I heard an amazing quote a while back that I would like to share with you:
"Our thoughts become our actions. Our actions become our habits. Our habits become who we are."
Today, on the anniversary of the death of Romero, Servant of God - I pray that all of us might be able to start the cycle with clear minds for God, so that our habits only stem from actions of love.
Today marks the 31st anniversary of Romero's martyrdom - "The Bishop of the Poor". Like St. Vincent, Romero did not start out desiring to do great things or save a nation. He is even described as timid and ascetic in the years before he was ordained as a bishop. However, like Vincent, he had a conversion experience while being directly involved with the poor. After the brutal murder of one of his priests and two of the priest's parishioners, Romero saw the terror in the eyes of the poor and helpless flock. As with Vincent's conversion in hearing the confession of a dying poor man, Romero realized he was being called to help those no one else would help. He joined the poor in solidarity against the oppression of the government, and was persecuted and killed for doing so. The process for beatification and canonization is under way, and he was given the title Servant of God by Pope John Paul II.
What strikes me the most about these two men isn't their amazing successes, but their roots. We are all called to be saints - in our Christian baptism, we are called to be priest, prophet and king. How often do we really consider our role on the path to sainthood? Vincent became a priest to make money and help his family. He lived a very comfortable life as a family chaplain, until the day he encountered Jesus in a dying man. I wonder how many times I have encountered Jesus, without even taking the time to notice or care. I heard an amazing quote a while back that I would like to share with you:
"Our thoughts become our actions. Our actions become our habits. Our habits become who we are."
Today, on the anniversary of the death of Romero, Servant of God - I pray that all of us might be able to start the cycle with clear minds for God, so that our habits only stem from actions of love.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Celebrations
This week had many important days in it - some famous, like St. Patrick's Day, some more obscure, like Pi Day (3.14...), and today, the Feast of St. Joseph - but one in particular was very dear to the Vincentian Family - the Feast of St. Louise de Marillac (March 15th).
St. Louise was St. Vincent's closest companion, and the two were long-time friends. Louise was Vincent's advisor on his many works with the Congregation of the Mission, and Vincent was her spiritual advisor. Together, they co-founded the Daughters of Charity. Now, this was no small feat - the Daughters of Charity were the first non-cloistered order of sisters, anywhere in the world. Their order was founded with the idea that women called to live in religious community could serve Jesus in the poor, not just in the chapel. She's a fascinating saint! If you would like to read more information on her life, I recommend starting with the Vincentian Family Website.
As the foundress of the Daughters of Charity, she is indirectly the foundress of VLM - as the Vincentian Lay Missionaries have stemmed from the Daughters of Charity. St. Louise de Marillac, pray for us!
And, speaking of websites, VLM has a wonderful new website! You can find information about the program, our ministries, online donations, and much more. Check us out!
St. Louise was St. Vincent's closest companion, and the two were long-time friends. Louise was Vincent's advisor on his many works with the Congregation of the Mission, and Vincent was her spiritual advisor. Together, they co-founded the Daughters of Charity. Now, this was no small feat - the Daughters of Charity were the first non-cloistered order of sisters, anywhere in the world. Their order was founded with the idea that women called to live in religious community could serve Jesus in the poor, not just in the chapel. She's a fascinating saint! If you would like to read more information on her life, I recommend starting with the Vincentian Family Website.
As the foundress of the Daughters of Charity, she is indirectly the foundress of VLM - as the Vincentian Lay Missionaries have stemmed from the Daughters of Charity. St. Louise de Marillac, pray for us!
And, speaking of websites, VLM has a wonderful new website! You can find information about the program, our ministries, online donations, and much more. Check us out!
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
New Every Morning!
In thinking about my life these last 10 months or so, a song came to mind called New Every Morning, based on Lamentations 3. The song has a bit of history for me, as it was part of the repertoire for my dad's music group in the late 90's/early 2000s. I sang the song for my first time ever in a recording studio!
God's great mercies are new every morning, so great is His faithfulness. How blessed we are that our slate of mistakes throughout the day can be wiped clean just like that! This idea of God's presence being constantly renewed, constantly new in my life, has taken on an even deeper meaning for me as of late. I feel like almost everything about my life has become "new" - I have a new name, a new family, a new home, a new roommate, new friends, new things, live in a new city I'd never been to - and all by the grace of God! While I never could have predicted where VLM 2008 would have taken me, I certainly wouldn't have pegged being Christine Jones, married to a devoutly Catholic computer programmer, living in San Francisco.
Ah, but that leads me to the end of "the beginning" - what happened after GVV?
Evan and I were happily wed the summer after the Gateway Vincentian Volunteer program ended. I finally had some time to breathe, to think about GVV, VLM, my experiences at St. John's, and pray about where the next step might take me. My experiences as a parent liaison showed me I had many skills to offer in working with adults - helping people achieve their goals as parents, as creators of organizations, as educators, as innovators, as Catholics. As I was contemplating how this might be manifested, I received an email from the director of VLM about the upcoming plans for 2011. Every year, this email is sent to all former members, and every year, I always smile and think about it as something "that was." There were always other plans in the summer, and I felt that my once-in-a-lifetime experiences in Ethiopia, my first gateway into true service, could never be surpassed or recreated. I thought of myself as an alumnus, and an avid supporter and promoter of the program.
This email was a little different. With three new sites in Kenya, VLM needed new coordinators to work with the volunteers at the various sites. I remembered my experiences of working with the site coordinator well - Jess, now the director of VLM, was the coordinator of my site in Bahir Dar. She was a great source of wisdom and strength for me during the journey, and has stayed a close friend in these years since. The coordinator works closely with the program, the Daughters at the location, and the volunteers, to keep things organized and running smoothly. They also prepare the volunteers for the experience, through help in the process of getting ready, leading reflections, and orientation. They travel with the volunteers to their location, and work with them every step of the way, answering questions, helping, and working as a liaison with the Daughters - the hands and feet of the director of VLM.
For the first time, this email didn't wash over me in a wave of nostalgia, fond memories, and a recommittment to the Vincentian charism. I felt as if I was being spoken to. Returning to Africa? Leading volunteers? These ideas sounded far-fetched, and yet, I once again felt that spark - a gentle prodding to pursue this idea.
With much prayer and discernment, on my own and with Evan, I finally decided to leave the decision in hands far wiser than my own - I felt God had opened this door, and the only way I could know if I was supposed to take this journey was to leave the choice to Him. I submitted an application for VLM 2011.
As with before, once that decision was made, the rest of life became a blur - Evan found a new job, and we moved to San Francisco. When I was told I had been accepted as a coordinator in early February, I was still unpacking!
While this story seems long-winded at best, it really is the prologue. God has called me to once again follow Him without reservation, and I am on a journey of discovery...
God's great mercies are new every morning, so great is His faithfulness. How blessed we are that our slate of mistakes throughout the day can be wiped clean just like that! This idea of God's presence being constantly renewed, constantly new in my life, has taken on an even deeper meaning for me as of late. I feel like almost everything about my life has become "new" - I have a new name, a new family, a new home, a new roommate, new friends, new things, live in a new city I'd never been to - and all by the grace of God! While I never could have predicted where VLM 2008 would have taken me, I certainly wouldn't have pegged being Christine Jones, married to a devoutly Catholic computer programmer, living in San Francisco.
Ah, but that leads me to the end of "the beginning" - what happened after GVV?
Evan and I were happily wed the summer after the Gateway Vincentian Volunteer program ended. I finally had some time to breathe, to think about GVV, VLM, my experiences at St. John's, and pray about where the next step might take me. My experiences as a parent liaison showed me I had many skills to offer in working with adults - helping people achieve their goals as parents, as creators of organizations, as educators, as innovators, as Catholics. As I was contemplating how this might be manifested, I received an email from the director of VLM about the upcoming plans for 2011. Every year, this email is sent to all former members, and every year, I always smile and think about it as something "that was." There were always other plans in the summer, and I felt that my once-in-a-lifetime experiences in Ethiopia, my first gateway into true service, could never be surpassed or recreated. I thought of myself as an alumnus, and an avid supporter and promoter of the program.
This email was a little different. With three new sites in Kenya, VLM needed new coordinators to work with the volunteers at the various sites. I remembered my experiences of working with the site coordinator well - Jess, now the director of VLM, was the coordinator of my site in Bahir Dar. She was a great source of wisdom and strength for me during the journey, and has stayed a close friend in these years since. The coordinator works closely with the program, the Daughters at the location, and the volunteers, to keep things organized and running smoothly. They also prepare the volunteers for the experience, through help in the process of getting ready, leading reflections, and orientation. They travel with the volunteers to their location, and work with them every step of the way, answering questions, helping, and working as a liaison with the Daughters - the hands and feet of the director of VLM.
For the first time, this email didn't wash over me in a wave of nostalgia, fond memories, and a recommittment to the Vincentian charism. I felt as if I was being spoken to. Returning to Africa? Leading volunteers? These ideas sounded far-fetched, and yet, I once again felt that spark - a gentle prodding to pursue this idea.
With much prayer and discernment, on my own and with Evan, I finally decided to leave the decision in hands far wiser than my own - I felt God had opened this door, and the only way I could know if I was supposed to take this journey was to leave the choice to Him. I submitted an application for VLM 2011.
As with before, once that decision was made, the rest of life became a blur - Evan found a new job, and we moved to San Francisco. When I was told I had been accepted as a coordinator in early February, I was still unpacking!
While this story seems long-winded at best, it really is the prologue. God has called me to once again follow Him without reservation, and I am on a journey of discovery...
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Sowing seeds in my heart
I must admit, coming back from VLM, the question "where do I go from here?" was rather difficult to answer. I came back to St. John's and immersed myself in campus ministry for my final year. Decisions about graduate school and work opportunities were weighed carefully, but I still felt like I was being called to do more. Through my new community of fellow lay missionaries, I learned about the Gateway Vincentian Volunteer program that several VLMs had done in the past. St. Louis sounded like a new adventure, and before I knew it, I was graduating and off to STL.
This was really different from teaching English in a third world country. When you go somewhere like Africa, you expect to be surrounded by people suffering and doing without things we find to be necessities - anything from electricity to running water. When you go to an American city, and you realize that people live without heat, without adequate plumbing, etc - it's really quite shocking. Through the eyes of our community, we were able to see behind the scenes in many non-profit organizations throughout St. Louis. Our weekly reflections were one of the highlights of my life in community. It gave me the opportunity to see the universality of St. Vincent de Paul's charism. Jesus says in Jn 12:8, "For you always have the poor with you," and wherever the poor, the marginalized, the misfits, the forgotten ones - the little ones that Jesus so often mentions - are, that is the call of the Vincentian family.
Here is a copy of an article I wrote reflecting on my service experience at St. Louis Catholic Academy.
“You will find out that Charity is a heavy burden to carry, heavier than the kettle of soup and the full basket. But you will keep your gentleness and your smile. It is not enough to give soup and bread. This the rich can do. You are the servant of the poor, always smiling and good-humored. They are your masters, terribly sensitive and exacting master you will see. And the uglier and the dirtier they will be, the more unjust and insulting, the more love you must give them. It is only for your love alone that the poor will forgive you the bread you give to them.” ~St. Vincent de Paul
This was really different from teaching English in a third world country. When you go somewhere like Africa, you expect to be surrounded by people suffering and doing without things we find to be necessities - anything from electricity to running water. When you go to an American city, and you realize that people live without heat, without adequate plumbing, etc - it's really quite shocking. Through the eyes of our community, we were able to see behind the scenes in many non-profit organizations throughout St. Louis. Our weekly reflections were one of the highlights of my life in community. It gave me the opportunity to see the universality of St. Vincent de Paul's charism. Jesus says in Jn 12:8, "For you always have the poor with you," and wherever the poor, the marginalized, the misfits, the forgotten ones - the little ones that Jesus so often mentions - are, that is the call of the Vincentian family.
Here is a copy of an article I wrote reflecting on my service experience at St. Louis Catholic Academy.
A phone crooked at the shoulder, putting on a student’s Band-Aid with one hand, buzzing open the front door with the other, and trying to run off copies of the weekly newsletter all at the same time has become a common-place situation this year. I came to St. Louis Catholic Academy to be the “Parent Liaison,” unsure of what that meant, but excited to be working with families - and the experience has definitely given me new challenges and changed my heart forever.
St. Louis Catholic Academy is an under-staffed, overworked Catholic school with a heart of gold. Located in urban North Saint Louis, with over 85% of the student body qualifying for free and reduced government lunch, it is a school on a mission: to provide a quality, affordable private education, especially for the underserved in its community. The beauty of St. Louis Catholic Academy is that, upon entering, one would never guess that this school is any different than any other private school one might encounter. The staff works tirelessly to find grants, aid programs, and ways to get new technology and state-of-the-art curriculums into the classrooms. The volunteer staff is irreplaceable, as they have been establishing a library (of mostly donations), working as classroom aids, and providing tutoring for those students who are enrolled in our after-care program.
The second glance at SLCA is really where the rubber meets the road. Being a Parent Liaison to families in such situations that they require so much aid has brought me joy, broken my heart, and given me new eyes to see the world. I spent a month covering full time for the secretary who was out on medical leave. One day of answering the phones and answering the front door – hearing the stories of why so-and-so is late, trying to track down parents of sick children whose numbers have changed 3 times, sifting through custody battles, lost jobs, grandparent caregiver illnesses, an angry parent trying to find someone or something to blame – all of this can awaken any range of emotions. Looking at the students, in their matching uniforms, it is easy to forget the roads many of them must take, every day.
So what is a Parent Liaison? I’ve spent the past year answering that question, simply by jumping in with both feet. We have 177 students, and 177 stories. A year has not been enough time to learn all of them, but they have all touched me. I have had the privilege of getting to know the students – their likes, dislikes, strengths and weaknesses – and sharing them with their teachers and caregivers. I have had the privilege of encouraging the beginnings of an independent parent organization, full of bright ideas and wisdom far beyond my own, to bring families together and get parents involved with their children. I have had the privilege of being a driving force behind several initiatives to increase school communication with the families – from phone calls to emails to a weekly newsletter.
Most importantly though, I’ve had the privilege of calling many of the people I’ve worked with “my friend.” They have taught me far more about life and about myself than I could have imagined. This position has become intimately intertwined with my whole experience as a Gateway Vincentian Volunteer. St. Vincent always strove to help the most vulnerable and marginalized in society. My worksite embodies the spirit of Vincent in ways I will continue to unpack for the rest of my life. He may not be mentioned or talked about – but there is a mural of him on the wall near the front entrance, and his charism is lived out here, every day. For better or worse, I’ve got the “Vincentian Spirit” in my blood – and this year I’ve experienced a blurring of the lines between work, service, and friendship.
Monday, February 14, 2011
The Journey Begins, Part 2
Our trip to Bahir Dar seemed like a shedding of layers of civilization. While Evan and I had been talking almost non-stop, we'd left the United States and our native language of English. Then, we'd left Amsterdam, our final link to our familiar Western culture. When we arrived in Nairobi, you couldn't drink the water, but the airport seemed like a normal place - until we walked onto the tarmac to board our next plane. We were surrounded by desert, and a few tall trees in the distance, unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Flying into Addis was another shock; I had never seen an entire area of tin roof shacks. Animals (and people) were wandering through the bumpy streets as we tried to drive around. We stayed with the Daughters of Charity there to recover from traveling for a few days before the final leg of our journey to Bahir Dar.
When we arrived in Bahir Dar, the airport consisted of a small building and a tarmac. We walked into the building, and almost immediately we were at the front door. We were greeted warmly at the airport, our bags were packed up, and we were on our way to the DOC's compound.
When we arrived, we were immediately welcomed to a coffee ceremony - the traditional Ethiopian celebration. Everyone gathers around, the coffee is roasted, and then the guests of honor break the bread to share with everyone gathered. That was my first experience of being present, and I'll never forget the way everyone laughed, told stories, and sat around sipping coffee and eating bread for what seemed like hours. They didn't care that we couldn't speak Amharic (the native language of Ethiopia) or that they couldn't speak English. We laughed and smiled and enjoyed the delicious coffee and bread that had been baked in banana leaves. I wondered if I'd ever seen people that happy before.
Then we started teaching - the first day of school, all of the children greeted us in song, and presented flowers to us they had picked. We held our first "field day," and spent the whole morning laughing, playing clapping and dancing games, and soccer, and attempting to learn a little bit about them while they constantly studied us. That day faded into a normal routine; we'd teach in the morning, have lunch with the Daughters, and then would either spend time with the workers in the compound, work with individual tutoring groups, help the Daughters with various projects, or just spend some leisurely time enjoying a walk, or a coffee ceremony, or a wonderful conversation that would last the whole afternoon without realizing it. Time almost ceased to exist - we were welcomed as part of the family, and simultaneously as honored guests. We came to serve, and were constantly being served. All the while, the language barrier never stopped anyone from just sitting and enjoying each others' company.
My 5th grade students were like any other 5th grade class - boisterous, hormonal, excitable - and yet, there was something so profoundly different. We'd be having a perfectly normal lesson, and a student would be so hungry, they'd try to eat the play-doh. Or, a student would be hiding their leg, only for me to discover it had a large gash that had become infected from lack of care. I began to notice that many students wore the same shirt every single day. Some didn't have shoes. And yet, when the students would receive their lunch, many would inevitably try to offer it to me. One student gave me a very tiny note written on a scrap of paper, carefully folded around her gift - a small red plastic monkey - possibly her only toy in this world. Another student, one of my brightest, wrote a beautiful note asking me to stay in Ethiopia and be her teacher forever, because she loved me. Several girls spent hours one afternoon braiding and re-braiding my hair, all the while giggling about how strange my hair was.
These different ideas constantly wrestled in my soul. How could people who seemed to have nothing by my standards, be showing me joy and me generosity?
It was like a slowly illuminating light bulb had just started to turn on. The St. Vincent quote on many St. John's campus ministry t-shirts, "No one is too rich to receive, or too poor to give," was being lived out, right in front of my eyes. I realized I had seen "the poor" I was serving as separate from myself - when all the while, God was tugging at my heart to see the same-ness. The humanity. Girls my brother's age who gushed over his picture, the handsome American. Boys pulling the hair of the girl in front of them. Children playing games they had invented with no toys. The words "brother" and "sister" and "friend" slowly started coming to mind, instead of "student," "child," or "poor man."
Through these experiences, and through reflection with my community, I slowly started to realize why St. Vincent de Paul is still a big deal, 350 years later. One of my favorite quotes from St. Vincent is, “It is only for your love alone that the poor will forgive you the bread you give to them.” In our abundant Western culture, it can be easy to feel compelled to reach out to those in need. What I often find harder is to see “the poor” as our brothers and sisters, men and women made in the image and likeness of God – and to see how hard it can be for them to accept our help. To see that a conversation, a friendship, can mean more than a loaf of bread ever could. That being treated with dignity and respect is what makes us feel alive, and feel human.
One thing is for sure; if you run into St. Vincent de Paul's words in action, you can't go back. These experiences captivated me, led me to give a whole year of my life to join the Gateway Vincentian Volunteers, and led to my applying for VLM 2011.
That is the real beginning of this story.
The Journey Begins, Part 1
It's hard to know where to begin - so the easiest place might be the beginning! At least, the beginning of my relationship with VLM. It's difficult to talk about what service means to me now without showing where I came from.
I discovered the Vincentian charism of service to the poor upon entering St. John's University as a freshman in 2005. I didn't know what it meant, and I certainly didn't know where it would take me... but a seed was planted. Who was St. Vincent? I knew the basics - the St. Vincent de Paul society had a thrift store in Salem, near where I went to youth group at St. Vincent de Paul parish. However, it seemed there was more to him.
I joined a program called V.I.T.A.L sponsored by campus ministry. Vincentian Initiative to Advance Leadership. We met several times a semester, to discuss who St. Vincent was, and how service pertained to our skills as leaders. It wasn't until my junior year that all of this really had a chance to sink in...
I remember the day it all started very clearly. It was February 2008, spring semester of my junior year. I received a forwarded email from my dear friend Lauren - who from the very beginning, was the reason I went to St. John's in the first place. It was an application for VLM - and she prefaced the forward with a note that said "hey, you're studying education, and I think you would really love this experience. I did this program the first year in 2005. The application is due tomorrow though, so here is Sister Mary Beth's contact information if you're interested."
Teaching English for a summer in Ethiopia? Having just returned from a study abroad experience the year before, this sounded right up my alley. With less than 24 hours to act, I immediately contacted Sister Mary Beth and asked for an extension. From there, the ball kept rolling...
Since sending in the application, life had gotten so busy, with my brother's wedding, catching mono, getting accepted into the President's Society, and trying to stay afloat with my grades after missing over a month of classes - Getting accepted into the VLM program had gone on the back burner of my mind almost as quickly as it had entered. I'd been a devout Catholic all my life, and everything I'd done just seemed like the right thing to do. I was so busy building my resume and trying to conquer the world, that WHY I did all the things I was doing had rarely, if ever, crossed my mind.
So there I was, school was over and the million things on the to-do list were all complete - and I was standing in the airport, looking for my flight to Chicago. It hit me - I'm going to AFRICA. I panicked inside. What had all of my "resume building" gotten me into? I didn't know a thing about Africa, I felt green and inexperienced as a teacher, and I didn't know anyone going on this trip! Almost as soon as I had that thought, I saw another light blue polo just like the one I was wearing, with the VLM logo on the front. Jenna and I talked and talked, and suddenly we were in Chicago. We got to DePaul, and with everyone I met, I felt the same ease in striking up conversation, like these folks had been friends my whole life. I realized I wasn't the only one who was nervous, too. The fear of not knowing anyone quickly passed, and then our orientation sessions started on what we would be doing.
Those next few days are all blurred together in my mind. We talked about the culture of Ethiopia, what our work days would consist of, "Ethiopian time", and the schedule of the program. We ate Ethiopian food in a restaurant in Chicago. Finally, we all gathered up our things, and boarded a plane bound for Amsterdam. My ticket was next to this amazing guy, Evan, and we talked for hours on end. We boarded another plane for Nairobi, and our tickets were together again. We boarded another plane for Addis, our tickets side by side once more. After over 57 hours of traveling, talking, and occasionally attempting to sleep, I knew I'd made a friend for life. I just didn't know how right I was ;-). Although that's another story...
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