More on vulnerability.

"I am uneasy. Can I trust my insights given the fact that I have been short-sighted before? Do I recognize the limits of my understanding?

...I have found that I cannot do theology that lets go of vulnerability. Vulnerability is just too deeply part of my faith. But more about that later."

-from After the Locusts by Denise Ackermann (HIGHLY recommended)

Oh, how I identified with the excerpt from that book we were assigned to read for HNGR last month. I loved the quote on vulnerability. Yes, I thought, I cannot let go of vulnerability. It is too big a part of my life, of my worldview on how to connect with others, encourage them, to allow myself to grow.

Under it, though, I wrote, "What does it mean for vulnerability to be a part of my faith?". For a long time, most dramatically over the last year and a half or so, the concept of making myself be vulnerable and trying (not always successfully) to be a safe place for others to be vulnerable has been a defining theme in my relationships. How can we accept God´s love if we do not feel loved by others? How can we feel loved by others if we do not feel known by others? And there is no way to allow ourselves to be truly known without making ourselves vulnerable, without taking risks in what and how and when we share. How thankful I am for those people who have made themselves safe for me, teaching me to do this in the best way.

But what does it mean for vulnerability to be a part of my faith? Of my theology?

But then I looked up a few lines farther to the first part of that quote, which I had identified with all too well also. "Can I trust my insights given the fact that I have been short-sighted before? Do I recognize the limits of my understanding?". How scared I am at times to ponder the things I´ve been pondering here, to attempt to make decisions about lifestyle and prayer and seeking to honor God in different ways. How can I draw conclusions?? I´ve been wrong so many times before. My views on God and living for Him have changed. My views on how I can best love the people around me have changed. How do I know how to proceed? What will I feel later? What will I wish I´d done or said or lived differently?

I´ve continued to think and pray and meditate on that question, on what it means for vulnerability to be part of my faith. I believe in its power so much in friendships, I want to incorporate it more into my spiritual life, too. Could it mean in part, living to honor God as best I can understand right now, without knowing if it´s EXACTLY the right thing? Does it maybe include taking steps to pray and share and love and work on faith, without a guarantee of being glad of them later, with the possibility I may have to change and apologize and restructure and do things differently later?

And I´m sure it means so many other things, too.

How is vulnerability part of your faith?

Future Thoughts...

I am a senior in college. I forget this usually, because I am not on campus, I am not going to class, I am not eating at Saga or hanging out in the library or studying. But, despite my less traditional first semester, I am a senior in college. And in less than a year, I will not be a senior in college. I will be (gulp) a college graduate.

I´m thankful that at the moment, my problem doesn´t feel like no options, as I hear many fret over. Instead, it´s more like choosing which of many options to pursue.

Although, before all of you who feel you fall in the first category start throwing tomatoes at me, I must clarify... at the moment, any, and I mean ANY "option" which involves being near people that I love and does NOT involve trying to challenge every belief and thought I´ve ever had... sounds GREAT. So when I say I have "many options", I´m including the fact that laying on the couch while my mother makes me tea and oatmeal for the next ten months sounds like an amazing plan right now.

OK no but seriously. I am excited at the prospect of the next few years, but I also feel slightly overwhelmed and really, really, really unsure of what to do. I love Spanish and want to continue studying it, but I don´t know if I feel up to more months of this. I love clinical psychology, but am I ready to start a grad program right now (if I even could get in to one I like)? I´ve felt drawn to missionary care for several years now, and there are several options with that I could pursue. But can I really leave everyone again, be in another country again, right after this? Mosoj Yan has told me I could come back anytime. I love my job, I love the staff. What would it be like to return? And, I´m not sure, but I think there´s a really good chance that whatever decision I make will be signficantly based off of being near people who know and love me deeply and who I know and love deeply. I think that´s fine to want, but is it okay for it to really be my deciding factor? And if so... which people? And where? And depending on where it is, what would I do there?

Will He really get me where He wants me? Will I be where I´m "supposed" to be? And so often what I mean by that is, will I be somewhere awesome that I love?

I was looking through Celtic and saw a prayer labeled, "Hild of Whitby- ´in the right place´". Oh perfect, I thought, I want to get there.

"Take me often from the tumult of things into Thy presence.

There show me what I am, and what Thou hast purposed me to be..."

Exactly!

"I have prepared a place for you, says the Lord,

a place that is for you, and only you, to fill..."

Awesome! A purpose! Sounds great!

"...Approach My table, asking first that you might serve."

Though most of the options I´m seriously considering involve ´service´ of some kind, I have NOT been asking FIRST, that I might serve. It just hasn´t been my motivating factor. I want to help people, I´m fine with helping people. But my goal is not to help people. My goal is to do something that sounds fun to me.

I could go do grad school in order to become a clinical psychologist to help people because I have prayed and sought God and really believe that is the best way to use my gifts to honor Him. But I could also do it because it´s just what I want to do because I enjoy it. I could go do missions care because I am willing to live in another country if it´s what I feel would be the most helpful with where I am right now, or I could do it because it´s just something I have the option of. But I´ve heard this rumor that God cares the most, about our hearts. A good thing done for the wrong reasons can honor God less than a seemingly less important thing done with a heart to love and serve.

And... He will use me if I seek to follow Him.

It´s not really about what I end up doing. It´s about that I ask first that I might serve.

Hild’s Prayer

"Take me often from the tumult of things into Thy presence.
There show me what I am, and what Thou hast purposed me to be.
Then hide me from Thy tears.

O King and Saviour, what is Thy gift to me?
And do I use it to Thy pleasing?
Dear Lord, You alone know what my soul truly desires,
and You alone can satisfy those desires.

I have prepared a place for you, says the Lord,
a place that is for you, and only you, to fill.
Approach My table, asking first that you might serve.
Look even for the lowest tasks.
Then, the work of service done,
look for your own place at the table.
But do not seek the most important seat
which may be reserved for someone else.
In the place of My appointing will be your joy.

Lord, show me the right seat;
find me the fitting task;
give me the willing heart.
May I be equal to Your hope of me.
If I am weak, I ask that You send only what I can bear.
If I am strong, may I shrink from no testing
that shall yield increase of strength or win security for my spirit.

I trust in Thee, O Lord. I say, 'Thou art my God.
My times are in Thy hand, my times are in Thy hand.´"

Note from Nena

Last week before my host siblings left I got home one night and my littlest host sister Noemi ("Nena") handed me this letter that she'd written me while I was at work.



For: My Sister
Hi Emiliana, how are you today at your job? I am fine here in the house. I'm worried about when I go to Spain but I will be with my family. So it's good that I'm going.
Bye byeeee!

And The Most Creative Care Package Award Goes To...

Miss Caitlin Marie

for her beautiful composition of a lovely letter, Vermont granola, chocolate,
star-shaped post-it notes, bouncy balls(!)
and...
a Crazy straw.

Way to rock my LIFE.

This would be a half-eaten sun-dried tomato bagel, with a piece of blueberry bagel stuck into the "eaten" part. We all placed bagel orders one morning, I requested sun-dried tomato. Cait requested blueberry, but then when she saw mine got jealous. I came out to find this little set up. Huh? "Oh, well, I wanted some of yours so I just traded."

(She looks cute in floppy hats too)

This is continuing a trend of creative care packages... she once sent me a package at Wheaton for no reason containing a beanie baby MOOSE. Man I love this girl.

I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCH... Thank you for being lovely hilarious beautiful SO ENCOURAGING and altogether wonderful!!! MOVE TO BOLIVIA RIGHT NOW K?!!
Because, I miss you.

:-)

Like a jellyfish.

• "What did I say to you the last time that we met?""

"You said, 'Now shalt thou see what I will do,'" she answered, and then, looking at Him reproachfully, added, "But I never dreamed You would do anything like this! Lead me to an impassable precipice up which nothing can go but deer and goats, when I'm no more like a deer or a goat than is a jellyfish. It's too- it's too-" she fumbled for words, and then burst out laughing. "Why, it's proposterously absurd! It's crazy! Whatever will you do next?"

The Shepherd laughed too. "I love doing preposterous things," He replied. "Why, I don't know anything more exhilarating and delightful than turning weakness into strength, and fear into faith, and that which has been marred into perfection. If there is one thing more than another which I should enjoy doing at this moment it is turning a jellyfish into a mountain goat..."

• ...Somehow the roar of the wind and the surge of the waters seemed to get into her blood and course through her being like a glorious wine of life. The wind whipped her cheeks and tore at her hair and clothes and nearly toppled her over, but she stood there, shouting at the top of her voice, though the wind seized the sound of it and carried it off, drowned in a deafening roar of its own. What Much-Afraid was shouting up there on the old sea wall was this:

"And now shall mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about; therefore I will sing praises unto the Lord; yea I will offer the sacrifice of joy and will praise the name of the Lord." (Ps 27:6)

-from Hinds' Feet on High Places

I love this book so much. Beautiful Mayr sent it to me a few years ago and every time I pick it up it seems to say exactly what I need to hear...

Celebrating Fall.

Fall is my favorite season. Favorite, favorite, favorite, favorite. I love it, I love it, I love it- so much that it makes me want to say everything multiple times, like "Caramel caramel caramel!" and "Oh I just feel so cozy cozy cozy!". But I mean seriously. I feel that chill in the air and see the leaves start changing and I just get absurdly, ridiculously happy. I love things about every season, but there's something about fall that just makes me think about family and friends and quality time going for walks or sitting in a warmly lit room talking and laughing with everyone you love while drinking something hot and sweet... oh, life.

So as much fun as I'm having here in Bolivia, it is 80 degrees and not an orange leaf or apple cider in sight. So when everyone's g-status and blog updates started popping up with things like "Feels like the first day of fall!" and "Carving pumpkins this weekend!"... I got sort of sad!!

So, I made this list in my journal at the beginning of the month:

"Ways I Am Celebrating Fall That Are Awesome Even If Different From My Usual:

• Sleeping at the Nybergs' and girl-talking with Lindsay until 1 in the morning
• Laying on the couch at Ren watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire in Spanish with the girls
  
• Snuggling with my host sisters
• Reflecting.
• Journaling.
  
• Planning self-esteem workshops at Albergue
• Listening to Ingrid Michaelson, Jason Mraz, Nickel Creek, The Weepies, Amos Lee, William Fitzsimmons
• Coming to cafés and plazas to do HNGR readings and be with You
• Praying for people I love near and far
• Having coffee with Ariane (the MY secretary)
• Using the conditional tense in Spanish
• Developing excellent vegetable-peeling skills
  
• Reading Nouwen
• Learning from homesickness
• Trusting God with the future (aka attempting to do so)
  
• Looking at mountains
  
• Getting to know the missionary community here
• Taking salsa lessons with the MY staff
• And much more too... thanks Lord."

So yeah. This is definitely the most different October I've ever had and I may not be celebrating by having any leaf fights or carving pumpkins... but I am celebrating fall greatly all the same (even if it's actually spring where I am).

(And... this post was my way of needing to "change the subject" on this blog a little bit. I'm really glad I wrote the last post- it was important for me to write and important for me to share, and I REALLY appreciate all the sweet comments and emails I got about it. But, yeah... I just kinda needed to post something happy.)

Only in the realm of Praising should Lament walk...

We took my host siblings to the airport yesterday morning. After several years of living with my host parents while their parents worked to support them, they were finally able to move to Spain to live with their birth family.

I got home last night and walked into the living room, where for the past four years there have been three excited kids playing a loud game of cards or fighting over what to watch on the TV.

My host mom lay alone, on a mat on the floor. The TV was on, but she was staring at the ceiling. I called her name, and she turned and looked up at me with swollen red eyes.

I went and laid down next to her, cuddling up to her back.
How are you.
Sad.
Me too.
Sad. Come, eat.

I'd stopped at a friend's after work and eaten there, but you don't say no to food in Bolivia, and you don't deny someone who's just lost three of her children a chance to be a mother. We walked into the kitchen and she poured me tea and put bread on a plate. We sat down.

She said, It's quiet.
Yeah, it is.
No kids.
Nope.
No laughing.
Nope.
I waved at every airplane that passed by today. (She laughed self-consciously). I thought, maybe it's my babies.

I looked down at my plate and bit my lip hard to keep myself from crying. It didn't work. Tears fell on my bread and I half-stifled a sob.

I watched as my host mom's face, that I've almost only ever seen cheerful and laughing, crumpled. She put her hand to her mouth and sobbed, bending over her plate. Tears ran into the deep wrinkles on her brown cheeks. Even her two long gray braids hung sadly, it seemed, twisted together haphazardly today.

Dimelsa and I were always together. Every day.
I know.
My babies.
I know.

We cried, sitting together at the kitchen table.

After a few minutes I asked apologetically, Did I make you cry because I started crying?
Yes.
Sorry. (Pause). My mom says it's good to cry sometimes. She says it's good for your body, it's good to cry when you're sad.

My host mom nodded.
Yes. Oh, and how is your mother? Is she well?
Yes, she's well.
Please send her our greetings.
I will.

(Even still crying, I laughed to myself. That's so Bolivian, to ask after my family and send greetings in the midst of deep grief).

No more crying. We shouldn't cry. They're not dead! They'll come back!

I looked up, startled at this somewhat abrupt proclamation (though true, I guess).

OK. No more crying.
How's your bread? It's good tonight, isn't it?
Yes, the bread's delicious.

She kissed my cheek. I kissed hers and said good night and went to bed, and she and her husband slept alone in their bedroom for the first time in four years.

"...Joy knows, and Longing has accepted,—
only Lament still learns; upon her beads,
night after night, she counts the ancient curse.

Yet awkward as she is, she suddenly
lifts a constellation of our voice,
glittering, into the pure nocturnal sky."

Yeah, I know, I'm blogging a lot this week...

And I have another couple posts half-written to go up later. But, this is about linking to someone else, I didn't even write this one!

Several of my sweet friends in the States have made it clear I'm invited to share what I'm seeing and hearing with them, even the angst, even the hard stuff (love you roommates, and lots of others too). This means more than I can say. But, I don't want to yet. I can't put some of this stuff into words in an email. I will, I promise, but right now, I just don't want to. I figure that saying "I'm working with teenage girls who were physically and sexually abused" gives a pretty good idea, and some of the stories... I just don't want to yet. Besides, how do I tell the stories when you don't get to see their faces, hear them laugh, play volleyball with them and cuddle with them watching a movie? I'm in this torn place where sometimes I DO want to, sometimes I want to shout their stories to the kind woman chatting with me in a taxi cab who asks me what I do here, to put them in every email to everyone I know who will listen. I want the horrors of it to be known. But I need to think about the fact that whoever's listening is going to have to go on with their day, and unlike me, they don't have the privilege of making these stories, their day.

And even more than that... I don't want my girls to just become horror statistics, labels, faceless tragedies. Because they're SO not. How do I tell these stories in a way that lets you understand how beautiful they are? How much healing and joy they really have experienced? That God does have a plan for them, that He is carrying it out and there is goodness in their lives? That really... they are normal girls? I can't stand to not tell the stories, and I can't stand to tell them, because neither gives the full picture. Someday I'll sit with some of you and I'll tell the stories, and we will all cry. And then I'll show you their pictures and some of the movies we've taken, of all of us sitting around the lunch table and laughing as we eat our soup, or doing a dance to some "reggaetón". And hopefully the horror will seem real in a way that moves us all to pray, but the beauty and normalcy of these girls will seem even realer in a way that makes us praise.

Wow... ok... never mind... I guess I did have something to say. (That was all one big stream-of-consciousness...) So much for Ingrid, I guess I'm back to angst... :-)

BUT, the reason I originally started to post was because the lovely and amazing Christine, one of my best friends and my future roommate, just wrote a beautiful post on her current HNGR experience working with domestically abused women in Peru. She did dare to tell some of the stories, and it really captures both the horror and the joy, in the way I wish I could. So I wanted to link to her to give you all more of a glimpse into some of the things I can't write about, yet.

So go read :-) thanks for putting up with me, friends. Love and miss you all...

God in...

God to enfold me,
God to surround me,
God in my speaking,
God in my thinking.

God in my sleeping,
God in my waking,
God in my watching,
God in my hoping.

God in my life,
God in my lips,
God in my soul,
God in my heart.

God in my sufficing,
God in my slumber,
God in mine ever-living soul,
God in mine eternity.

-Finan Reading for 9/19 from CDP.


Read it and loved it then and marked it to remember... and then received it today in a card from beautiful Anna! (Thanks, love... so encouraging. How I miss and adore you!)


Side note... is it weird that it feels completely natural to be listening to Amos Lee when I spend time with God? I just noticed he was who was on my iPod, and it didn't seem weird at all but in fact helpful. He doesn't really have anything at all to do with prayer but his voice is just AMAZING... (the connection would be that amazing things help me to pray, I suppose?)

Second side note- just decided to look it up:
"God in my sufficing..."; Sufficing: from suffice (verb), to be enough or adequate. Mm. God in mine, indeed, please.

Not so far.

"...I was overwhelmed with the sudden knowledge that though I am so far away, we are in the same world singing the same songs. We worship the same Lord. We share the same Father. And therefore, I am not so far; we are connected by our love of the Maker of this one earth that we share. We are one people, one world, serving one God.

I am not far away. I look at the same stars that come out over your heads each night. As the sun sets on you at night, I watch the same one rise. And when we pray, the same God hears and answers us all. So I am not far; we are all held together in the hands of our Lord."

(-from this blog. A twenty year old girl who's living alone in Uganda raising fourteen orphans. Completely amazing and worth reading.)

Just loved the quote. Good night, friends :-).

Happy October from Bolivia!!

The girls have recently discovered the Photobooth feature on my Macbook. Definitely more to come... they spent TWO HOURS yesterday shrieking with laughter as they played with the weird-mirror effects.

In these pictures: Paola, Estefani, Amanda, and Jhoselin.