Finding Love in a Hopeless Place: To Haiti and Back

Recently I undertook a trip with Foursquare Missions to Haiti. Many many moons ago I had felt a tug to work with the less privileged in the world. In fact, growing up, Mother Theresa was my idol. She still is.I ignored that call for many years. My trip to Haiti was recognizing God's voice in my life, and following the plan I believe he has set for me.

To set the context, I've been pretty busy and self involved lately. Well, pre-Haiti at least. It's so easy to get swamped down with the details. It was beginning to feel as if I was just moving from one action to the next. And I was feeling burnt out, like I was in a rut. I was starting to ask myself why I did all these things: school, work, tutoring... I had lost my perspective for the reason for my existence. I felt as if I were spiraling down further.

And then I went to Haiti.

To say that it is a life altering event is an understatement. I too, watched the footage 2 years ago when the earthquake hit the small island nation. I saw the destruction, the desolation, the hopelessness of it all. And I got inspired by the outreaching of celebrities to pour money in to a fund for the reconstruction of Haiti. I gave my donation, did my due diligence, and promptly went back to my life.

I watched as those images appeared of the collapsed houses, the dead bodies, the newly parent-less children. And I thought 'wow, that's really truly sad'. But since I had no connection, had never been in a country so devastated and poor, I couldn't relate.

And then I went to Haiti.

From the minute I landed in Haiti, my entire world perspective shifted. I was in shock. Driving through Port au Prince on our way to Jacmel, I could only gape at the sights: huge tent cities, trash everywhere, styrafoam plates and cups laying en masse in a drainage ditch, the tossed aside remnants of a recent festival, the still crumbled buildings.

But I saw other things. I saw a culture still thriving. I saw men and women walking down the street with confidence. I saw groups of children playing together in such a way that reminded me of my carefree youth when the neighborhood kids would all gather for a nice game of kickball or hide and go seek. I saw art, music, and culture. And I was hooked.

There is an inherent beauty found in all the chaos in Haiti. It's in the green of the mountains, the blue of the ocean, the glimmering gold of the sands, and the brightness shining forth from so many faces. And it is in the love that pours forth from the hearts of the children.

And that's when my perspective on life began to change.


To be continued....

My greatest fear

I'm a firm believer that God gives you what you need, when you need it. Sometimes though, it comes to you in ways that you wouldn't expect. And if you aren't watchful, you may miss it.

I've had so many of these messages in the last week that there is no way I could not hear it.

I've been backsliding in the healthy living lately. I didn't realize it fully myself. In fact, I pretty much did everything I could to ignore it.

And then, last Thursday at yoga, as I was setting my intention to honor the light of the Spirit within me and to honor the blessings given to me by God, our Yogi read the following poem by Marianne Williamson from her book 'A Return To Love':

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate,but that we are powerful beyond measure.It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?Actually, who are you not to be?You are a child of God.Your playing small does not serve the world.There is nothing enlightened about shrinkingso that other people won't feel insecure around you.We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us.It is not just in some; it is in everyone.And, as we let our own light shine, we consciously giveother people permission to do the same.As we are liberated from our fear,our presence automatically liberates others.

I was blown away. Here I am, thinking of how I've been struggling, and how I need to get back to that place of letting my inner Spirit shine through, and I hear these words. I felt very strongly that I was being sent a message.

But wait! There's more!

Even after hearing this, I was still struggling, and I couldn't figure out why. And so I did what I have always done when I've struggled this hard, and been so down on myself. I collapsed into myself. And what finally brought me to the realization was that people noticed.

I have strength, I know that. And part of my strength comes from the fact that the world can be falling down around me, but I remain cool and calm. I don't let others see how panicked I am, so they stay calm. And I feel ashamed asking for help. Because I don't want people to think I'm weak.

But this time, people noticed. I was blown away again on Easter Sunday. I was helping to make pancakes for our Pancake breakfast at The Journey. And a friend asked me 'are you ok?'. I responded with my usual 'yeah, I'm fine'. But she knew better and didn't leave it at that. She looked me in the eye and said 'no, really, are you ok?'. It struck me then that I was really not. I'd been lying to myself and trying to hide it, and it really wasn't ok. I looked back at her and said 'not really'. And what happened next surprised me even more. She didn't stand there and lecture me about being strong. She simply gave me a hug. A real hug. And I teared up. Now, if you've known me for any length of time, you know that I don't cry in front of others a whole lot. So this was a pretty big indicator for me that something is wrong.

And that wasn't even the end of the messages I was being sent.

Because of our worship service, I was running late for family Easter dinner. I was really worried and stressed, because I haven't really explained to my family yet that I'm not attending Catholic Church. I haven't told them that I've moved away from that to follow a path that I intuitively feel is where I need to be in my journey of faith. But I've been leaving hints. And, because I was late arriving for lunch because of worship at The Journey, I didn't know what to expect. Would they grill me? Would they admonish and lecture me? Would they seek to understand?

No questions were really asked. But I was still on edge. Because I wasn't feeling right within myself.

And then, yet again, I was blown away by the message I was getting. And it was a very hard message that came from 2 people who I know really love me. My Dad and my Sister both expressed concern about my weight. They'd noticed. And my Dad said 'you know, I'm only saying this because I love you and I don't want to see you go back to where you were. I don't want to see you depressed and hurting. I want you to be happy'.

Oh geez, I'm tearing up just thinking of it now. The thing that struck me most is that my Dad and my sister took a big risk. They know that I could have blown up at them and walked away mad. They, out of love, risked our relationship because they want me to be happy. That is the ultimate sign of love. If I hadn't seen this in that moment, I would have told them to mind their own business and walked away. And then I would have felt even worse than I already did.

But in that moment it struck me that 3 times within 3 days I heard a message of support and love. And they each came from 3 very different aspects of my life. How can I ignore that? How can I continue to pretend that everything is ok when in the three most important places in my life I was given the same message? That I recognized it during devotion time through a poem, that my faith community noticed and offered support, and that my family spoke up and offered support.

The message is clear for me. I have support. I have support internally through my faith, I have support in my faith community, and I have support in the love of my family.

And I know now that I am going to need to lean on that support. Because my greatest fear IS in standing out. And as I continue to realize the blessings of all the opportunities I have, and take advantage of them, I'm starting to stand out. And it scares the heck out of me.

What Good Friday means to me

Good Friday has been especially poignant for me the past few years. A few years ago, my Grandfather passed away during Holy Week. It was the first time death had really hit close to my heart. And it was during this time that I leaned on my faith. Through my Grandpa's death, I became reacquainted with my faith.

Christians remember today as the day that Jesus died on the cross. By his ensuing resurrection, we became alive in Christ. And as Christ lives, so do we. Christ's death and resurrection made it possible for us to enter the kingdom of God when our earthly body dies. The Spirit that resides in us is united with God in Heaven. Which means that some day, I will see my Grandpa again.

It was this experience that started me on the path that has led me to where I am today. A flame of desire to acknowledge and grow in faith and love was sparked within me. And a decades old dream was reignited.

Most people don't know this about me, or wouldn't expect it, but in my teens and well into my college years, I very strongly considered entering a convent. Why? Even I didn't really understand at the time, other than there was just something about it that didn't seem the right path for me.

Having been raised in the Catholic faith, Mother Theresa was a large figure during my formative years. We often saw or read news of her and the work she did ministering to the lower castes of India.

I admired her greatly, and still do. To me the idea of sacrificing your own desires and wants to serve those who have nothing is the greatest act of love you can commit to. It takes a strength of will and a faith that is as solid as a rock. In my teens, I felt a strong pull to follow this type of path.

But I didn't believe. I didn't believe in myself. I didn't believe in God's love for me. I didn't believe in my life through Christ. I didn't believe that I, this small, insignificant nobody, could ever live to serve others in that magnitude.

So the path I chose to follow is what I thought others expected of me. I wanted to fit in, because it is so hard to stand out. I made choices that were hurtful to myself and to others, all in the sake of fitting in. I wandered far and squandered the gifts and blessings I'd been given.

And now it feels as if the prodigal child has returned home. I've reconciled myself to the will of God. And the desire to live a life of service to those who are less fortunate has become the path I will follow. This choice makes me feel at peace. The funny thing is, once I've accepted this path, once I've accepted that this is God's will for me, the doors to accomplishing this monumental task have opened at an alarming rate.

But as new doors open, old ones close. And this is what brings me back to my introspection of Good Friday. Today represents death and grieving. The death of our Savior and the death of our sins.

As I reflect on this, I think of the doors that are closing for me. Many of these doors are passageways to people who I became close to when following the path far from where I am now. And many of them can't understand why I have faith, why I believe in God, and why I, a smart, substantially educated American woman, would choose to believe in something that can't be logically and scientifically proven. And there is no way I can explain it to them to help them understand. And so the arrows are flung. The casual passive aggressive jabs made at Christians, faith, and religion. Trying to speak up and defend those who have faith is met with derision. And I can't understand it. I can't understand this incessant hate for something that brings so much love and goodness and beauty into this world.

So the time has come to acknowledge these closing doors. And I grieve for that. Despite the lack of support and understanding that come from these directions, they are still relationships I built and invested in. They are relationships that, at some point, brought me happiness.

In a way, I'm also acknowledging that a chapter in my life is coming to a close, even as a new and exciting chapter is opening ahead of me. Looking ahead to the future I see laid before me brings me untold joy, happiness, love, and peace. At the same time, I'm grieving for that which is now behind me, which I will never return to.

This is what Good Friday means to me. I know that there are times to grieve, and I know that sometimes things will hurt and be hurtful. But I also know that my faith in the Resurrection means that the hurt will not last forever, and that Love is always present in my life.

A bundle of nerves, just like the good old days

Tomorrow night I'll be doing something I've wanted to do for a very long time. I'm returning to my Alma Mater as an alumni to sing in the annual Musical Menus.

I love singing. I always have. In fact, my mom likes to tell me that when I was very little, I would turn around to listen to the woman behind us singing in church. And I'd hum along to the recessional music and sometimes make up my own words. I remember when I was only about 4 or 5 that I was scared to go upstairs to the bathroom by myself. But I bravely went, and sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star while I sat there to keep me calm. Music has always been such an instrumental (pun intended) part of my life.

I was so happy to have found a spot with the Madison Opera Chorus when I moved to Madison 6 years ago. I have thoroughly enjoyed singing in so many productions with them. There is nothing like being on stage, singing for all the world to see. It was a hard decision to make to take a break for awhile until I finish Grad School.

In fact, so many of my memories are tied to music. Some are very happy, and some are very sad. Moments spent backstage with many a cast mate laughing and talking and creating new 'inside' jokes, weddings, recitals, or just for fun with a group of friends.

This weekend is quite special to me for a few reasons. First, I haven't had much chance to get back to my Alma Mater, much less get a chance to show how much I've grown and learned from the knowledge and skill I gained as an undergrad student. Second, I have not sang solo in front of a group of people in years! It's such a nerve-racking, adrenaline pumping experience. And although I feel a bit rusty, the nerves can't tamp down the excitement building up for me. And last but not least are the people I get to share this experience with. My parents and Granmma will be in attendance on Saturday night. They haven't heard me sing since I sang Ave Maria at my Grampa's funeral a few years ago. While I was at Clarke as a student, Gramma and Grampa came to many of my performances, including Musical Menus, and they were always so proud. And I get to share my talent with a few friends who have NEVER heard me sing! I'm excited to show these 2 important people in my life what I am capable of. (And I'll also need their support getting through the nerves of the evening.)

This all brings back so many memories of concerts and recitals at Clarke. It's funny, but although I feel almost the same now as I did back then the night before a concert, I know that I'll get through it and be fine. So what if I keep messing up the lyrics to Mon Couer... who's going to notice but me?

I'm going to tap into that strength and skill I have inside and let go. I'm going to trust that I'll remember what I need to remember, and most importantly, I'll have fun.

Spring is in the air...

This is crazy! It's mid March in Wisconsin and I'm pulling out the sundresses and flip flops.

But there are so many things about Spring I enjoy that it's hard not to get excited. Spring is such a wonderful time of year. Everything seems so fresh and new. The sun always seems a little bit more glorious in Spring. Here it is, 6:30am, and I can hear the birds out chirping already. And even though it's still dark out, I know that in a very short amount of time, the sun will be out this early in the morning. Those are my favorite mornings: the slight chill of the morning that settles on your skin, the warmth of the sun as it caresses your skin, sitting on the porch with a glass of iced coffee or chai tea, enjoying the quiet.

Those are the moments I feel closest to creation. I revel in those moments. I love the peacefulness of the morning. After a bit you can see the world start to awaken. Lights go on in the apartments buildings, a few cars driving past, early morning exercise enthusiasts with the steady rhythm of feet hitting sidewalk.

How wonderful it is to realize that Spring is always so full of hope and promise. And as much as I really do not like snow and cold, I don't know if I could ever thrive in a place where the seasons don't change. See, it's very easy to be thankful and full of praise for God on days like this. But it's so very much more difficult during the dreary, dark days of Winter. But there's something about the anticipation of the coming Spring, of being able to watch the world bloom and bud and come into life, that makes the droll Winter days worth it.

And when you stop and think about it, it's a great metaphor for many things: personal awakenings, physical awakenings, and spiritual awakenings.

For so many years I lived spiritually in Winter. But, I never really gave up. Even though I felt my faith in God was disconnected, I didn't stop believing he existed. I think, deep down, I had hope that one day MY Spring would come. Just as the grass and flowers lay dormant under the snow, it's not dead, it's there, just waiting for the right time to spring forward. And, just like the Spring we see outside our windows now, so many things have to be in alignment before Spring can happen.

So many threads have come together in a Spiritual awakening. It feels as if the green grass and flowers in my heart that were laying dormant are blooming and bursting forth. And it makes me immeasurably happy to know that God believed in me the whole time. He planted seeds within my soul that, at the right time, spring forth into blossom and bloom. And for that, I am ever thankful.

God Bless you all! I hope you take the time to enjoy the wonderful world that's been given to us!

We don't really 'give' love to others

I really don't like the phrase 'I'm giving all my love to you' or 'I'm giving you all my love' and such variations. 


I promise you I'm not a bitter cynic. I do believe in love and loving others. My problem is with the word 'give'. Here's why, the definition of 'give' is to Freely transfer the possession of (something) to (someone); hand over to: "they gave her water".


Using the word 'give' implies that you are also losing something. If you give something away, you no longer have it. That's not true. We never really give someone the love that we have, because that would mean we no longer have that love. 


Our capacity to love others is endless. When we share that love with others, they are also showing us how to love just as we show them, and our capacity for love expands beyond the limits we have set for ourselves. 


So how did I come to this realization? Like many young women in our society, I've been through several failed romantic relationships. The first few times after they ended I felt like I had lost something. I felt like there was an emptiness inside me. I guarded my heart thereafter. I was so afraid of feeling that bitter emptiness again. 


But then things started to change. And I can pinpoint the pivotal moment of that change. My grandfather passed away a few years ago the week before Easter. This was my first real experience with dealing with the grieving process of a loved one. When I got that phone call at 5am from my mom, a million memories came flooding back. I had known this man my entire life, and I had loved him. I felt an emptiness and a hollowness more barren than I ever had. 


I was always the type of person who held my emotions in check. I am the rock, the one that others lean on in time of grief. I didn't know how to lean on others. So I turned to my faith. I spent at least an hour in church every day of Holy Week, praying and listening. And I realized that at some point, that emptiness was filled with a calm peace. At some point during the week I gave up the wall of protection I had built and truly let myself be filled with faith and hope. I knew then that I had not lost any love, instead, I had learned how to love even more. My Grandfather, through the very nature of being my Grandfather, had influenced my capacity to love my entire life. I missed him not because I lost any of the love I had for him, but because I respected how much he had taught me about love. The lessons learned were never taught as if in a classroom. They were the way he'd put ketchup in your cup of milk and chuckle when you finally realized it, or teach us as children to pound on the table after dinner and demand ice cream, or the many stories he'd tell us about his horse named Trigger who had a machine gun under his tail. 


There is nothing in the world like the feeling of a heart full of love. There is always something or someone to love: a beautiful sunset over a bay, a nephew's smile, a warm hug from a friend, a voice full of warmth on the other end of the phone, a check in phone call from a family member, the knowledge that even in death, we are not separated from the love we have for those loved ones who have passed along, and so many more. 


But even more than this is the love we receive from God. I was reminded of this during my weekend getaway. I saw the most beautiful example of God's love for us. A gorgeous sunset over a shimmering lake. It touched me so deeply. And I called to mind Luke 12:27-28

 'Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you - you of little faith!'

God had made that beautiful vision of a sunset, and it was so beautiful that my heart ached. And then I remembered that God puts more love into me than he does into that sunset which is here and then gone in moments. Wow. No matter how much I love others, I can never love others as much as God loves his children. But I can try to come close. 

The weekend I ran away from responsibility and into something greater

If you know me in person, you know that I'm a pretty outgoing person. I like to socialize and chat and I have no problem talking to strangers and making new friends. But what you may not know about me is that I'm actually right on the border line of introvert and extrovert. So while I value spending time socializing and being with friends, sometimes I need time away from everyone and everything to unwind and 'reset' myself.
This last weekend, I ran away from it all. I needed quiet. I needed peace. I needed no homework and no work stress. So I went to Door County, WI.

Even though I (jokingly) say that I ran away from responsibility, what I truly ran away from was all the 'extra' stuff I pile into my life. I needed to be away from all that extra stuff to have the quiet to hear God's voice. The truth is, I've felt a big change in the past few months. And there's a calling that I've felt for a very long time that I've been ignoring. I needed the quiet to pray and to listen in the quiet times.

So while I ran away from the responsibility of work, and school, and socialization, I ran, in a sense, to another responsibility. One that I was meant to do.

Isn't it funny how we make our lives so complex? We worry and stress about school work, jobs and career, finances, cars, TVs, clothes, and our social status. We think that these things add value to our lives. They make an impression on our society that we are 'someone' and we are part of society.

But the truth is, the life God wants for us is so much more simplistic. The God we worship is not a materialistic God. He doesn't care if I drive a 10 year old run down car or a brand new shiny one. He doesn't care if I've worked my whole adult life to get to a place of comfort. It isn't His will. His will is that we put all that energy of the 'stuff' that we throw onto ourselves into loving each other. And not just loving the people you know and like. Loving all of humanity, valuing life and the spirit within each individual, and loving those who hate us.

I had a moment of feeling utterly full of love and a sense of completeness this past weekend. I was driving along the shore of Lake Michigan at sunset. The sun and sky was a glory of riotous colors. Reds, oranges, yellows, pinks, purples, and blues all blending and shifting. And the gentle waves of the lake reflecting back the pinks and reds and purples seemed like a shimmering companion, meant to compliment the sunset. In the beauty of that moment, I realized that this was God's gift, not just to me, but to anyone who saw it. The scene was so beautiful that it cannot adequately be described in words. It was a living portrait that can only be described in feelings. The feeling of calm from the blues and purples, the warmth of the reds and oranges, the brilliance of the yellows, the hope of the pinks. And through it all, the ever sense of love. It's a moment that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. It wasn't a thing that I'd purchased or done that made me feel so happy and hopeful. It was the glory of what has been given to me. Something that I never asked for, or have truly appreciated. And it was given to me out of love.

I know now what God wants for me. And it will involve a lot of change. I don't know where the future will take me, but I trust that I will be shown the way. And through it all, I know that I was given this great gift of love so I could share it and give it to others. And that is something much greater than the responsibility that I've thrust upon myself.