Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Listen (72 hours later)
It is amazing that when we are stripped down to nothing...dirty, tired, and vulnerable...that we learn the most about ourselves and about what peace really is. It is only then that we can truly feel the power of a smile, the electricity of holding a sick child's hand, or the joy of being with 20 other people that feel compelled to do God's work. And it is only then that we can truly be open to what God is trying to tell us since most of the time we are too distracted to listen.
Before and during our mission I spend so much time talking at my team. From logistics to fundraising to reflection I have a lot to say. But when we met at the church on Saturday morning to leave, my voice was gone. What was I going to do? Instead of recognizing this as a good thing, I powered through and forced what little voice I had left out of my body. I didn't realize this at the time, but God was already trying to tell me something and I wasn't listening. Trust me, this would have been the easier way to learn the lesson He was trying to teach me (you'll see why later).
My voice came back by Sunday night and I felt whole again. But as the week went on and I became more vulnerable and open, God took another shot at the lesson He wanted me to learn.
On Thursday we woke up early to join the kids at My Father's House for adoration, rosary, and mass. So by the time we were on our way to Jacob's Ladder later that morning to spend time with that community, most people used the bus ride to catch up on sleep. But at some point Christina and I were awake and talking about weddings. I was telling her how amazing the sacrament was for me and Carla and how nothing else on that day mattered as much as that. How the ceremony, the homily, sharing in all of that with our family and friends and standing before God to commit to each other meant so much to us. Everything else was gravy! To stress my point I took off my wedding ring and said, "If I lose this, it doesn't matter. This doesn't mean as much as the sacrament. It's not about this."
So you can probably guess where this story is going. A few hours later as we enjoyed some time at the beach, I lost my ring. I had been in the water having a football catch and when I got up from diving for one ball, my ring was gone. I panicked. I yelled for Carla and others to come help me find it. I grabbed snorkeling gear and searched frantically. I was hyperventilating...not sure what to do. I didn't listen to Carla as she told me it was fine, not to worry about it. For 20 minutes, I was a mess.
And then as I searched the bottom of the ocean floor, a peace came over me. Well, first I got slapped in the side of the head with the lesson, and then a peace came over me. Where was my conviction in the words I had spoken just a few hours before? Where was my heart as I was spending a week serving God and then worrying about a ring? The Gospel that morning was the one where Jesus challenges the disciples to walk across the water to Him. And as the story goes, one disciple sinks since he doesn't have faith that Jesus will help him get there. I was sinking. I was not believing. I was not listening to my own words. How can I truly serve God if I don't listen to what He is saying? How can I help guide my team if my words are hollow?
Lesson learned (the hard way!). Sometimes we get caught up in what we know and we need a good shock to shake us up. We need to stop talking and just listen. Until we listen, the words we speak don't mean as much.
As I reflect on this year's time in Jamaica I have so much peace in my heart. I am so thankful for all of the time that I "listened" to Anthony before he died. I am so happy for all of the times that I was able to "listen" to the children that can't speak. I am so in love with God for the times he made me "listen" to him through my actions, not my words. I am so incredibly lucky to have been able to "listen" as my team told me how God changed them this week.
And as we go forward from this week, the challenge is to continue to listen. We don't always have the chance to spend 8 days holding babies, praying with kids who live with HIV/AIDS, and working alongside amazing people from Jamaica just trying to serve God. But we do have the chance to change lives everyday. We do have the chance to see God in every part of our day. We do have the chance to be our best...to be the person God means for us to be. We do have the chance to hear His call. But we have to listen...
--Michael (a rookie each year!)
Monday, November 22, 2010
What I am taking with me (Saturday)
This was my third year on the trip and something has felt a little different this whole week. And it feels different now, too. Usually on the plane ride I am close to tears and I feel that I have been torn away from a world where everything is better and God is everywhere. I dread going home and facing the daily grind of life in NYC. I don't feel this right now - I feel an incredible peace and sense of purpose; a knowledge that it is not over and that this is just the beginning.
This year, I do not feel so much that I am leaving something I love behind, but that I am taking a whole lot of love with me to share when I get home. I have begun to learn how to live the lessons of Jamaica and Mustard Seed everyday - whether in Jamaica or in Hoboken or in New York - and I am realizing that "real life" does not actually have to be a whole lot different than the beautiful eight days we just spent in Kingston.
Some other things were different this year, too...
This year... we spent most of our time working at Mary's Child, where we had the privilege to share three days with the most beautiful, generous, light-hearted, and wise teenage girls I have ever met... girls that have persevered through unthinkable challenges and have come through with smiles on their faces and beautiful babies in their arms. They are sisters to one another, mothers to their babies, and teachers to each of us. These girls showed us unconditional love despite all of the hurt they have lived and the many reasons they had not to trust us.
This year... we ventured up the hill past Sophie's Place. We have never gone up the hill before. The uphill climb took us to dinner at a modest rooftop bar where the owner served us food his wife had cooked in his kitchen. He served the food from his own bowls onto the same plates that his family eats from. He opened his home to us, letting us use his family's bathroom, which was located through his bedroom. He welcomed 20 strangers into his home like we were family and he charged us a total of $100 for dinner. The owner showed us love even though he had just met us that evening.
This year... the much-anticipated peace and quiet of our annual Thursday morning prayers were interrupted by excessively loud Jamaican rap music. We had to block it out and struggle to focus on the prayer and worship before us. This challenge was a reminder to each of us of the constant distractions we face back home and the effort it will take to block them out to focus on what really matters - living a life of love and service to others.
This year... we brought five of our boys with HIV to see their first musical show. They felt so special having a night out on the town with us and we felt so lucky to be there with them. We've never had the chance to take the kids out somewhere as a team. You could see how much love they felt and how much love the team had for each of those boys that night.
This year... we did things more simply. We ate fewer of the American snacks we brought. We only had water to shower once during the week and nobody complained. We turned off more lights that weren't being used. We had a sign up for who was on dinner and dish duty, but we did not even need to use it. These little things added up to a strong feeling of camaraderie and love. We were a team and we were living simply for those eight days so that we could grow closer to one another and to God.
Jamaica has vanished behind us by now. The plane will land and we will all get off and go back to our homes and our lives. We will savor hot showers and wash off a week's worth of dirt and sweat. We will take off our team t-shirts and eventually we will remove the Mustard Seed crosses from around our necks. On Monday morning we will put on our work clothes and, along with them, everything that comes with living and working in New York.
My prayer right now is that each of us may bring the simple love we experienced this week to every moment of our day-to-day lives. May we do all things differently because of the love we have shared with these children, with each other, and with many new friends this past week. May we take every moment of this experience and live it out each and everyday for God and for each other.
--Carla, 3rd year
Friday, November 19, 2010
My Final Reflection (Friday)
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Growing Up Jamaican (Thursday)
On my return each year, I measure how I've grown up throughout the year and (hopefully) how I've applied lessons learned from the previous year's trip in Boston. This year, the idea of family is on my mind...
We're getting older (as Kevin keeps reminding me because his joints ache), and several of the team members are in serious relationships - including Mike and Carla's marriage over the summer. I have to daydream what the future holds for me. For several years, I didn't want kids, and work was #1. My life's priorities have changed, and maybe career isn't this "Granola's" #1 priority anymore (a fun Jamaica nickname for my yoga alter-ego).
I come here to one of my families. It's easy to identify the kids as "our kids," but the team's family dynamic is truly unique, and I come back to this family, in part, to form the vision of the family I want to have someday.
A perfect example as I write this, is most of the team is going to bed; but Bridge, Kevin, Meaghan, Andrew, Mike, Casey, Carla and I are sitting in the common room. We're all exhausted; Mike and Andrew are fighting over the volume of the music; Kevin and I are trying to make a point to Mike (who's not listening); and I'm trying to thoughtfully blog. Sounds like a family antic to me. The others just wait for our ruckus to stop.
My first year here I was struck by mealtime tradition. Twenty of us would gather together for dinner; sit down together; linger at the table recapping the day; and wash dishes together. I was moved by how naturally we came together and helped the other with the pre- and post- chores just because. No one asked for help, but that's what people who love each other do.
I had pictured a happy, excited reunion with the tight-hugging and energetic Steffan on Saturday when we arrived. I couldn't wait to run up and grab him. Instead, I was met with a limp boy who didn't get out of bed for the day and barely recognized me. His meds changed, and he's still trying to adjust. I think that I felt 1/10 of how a mom feels when her son is sick, and she can't help.
The Early Breakfast Club is a funny tradition. Kevin and I started waking up before the sun a couple of years ago and drinking coffee before anyone else would arise. The team caught on to our coffee thievery, and now we're joined by Nisha, Mike, and Andrew each morning to see the sky light up over the mountains.
Perhaps my glory moment of the week was at Jerusalem yesterday. I mentioned that I didn't want kids for a while and still really struggle with babies and toddlers. I'm not someone who's great at high pitched voices and baby noises and non-conversations. I cherish the love and hugs they give but am self-conscious of my interactions with them. We exited the bus and spotted JoAnna - a small schoolgirl on her way to Little Angels (the onsite school). Mike said something like, "Oh, this cutie's mine. Can you hold this paper, Julie?" I took it as he bent down with his arms extended wide and a huge smile, urging her to run in for a hug. She beelined it toward him and made a sudden sharp right turn for... me? I was more shocked than anyone, but it made me believe for that moment that I do have it in me to carry all these family traditions with me to create my own one day.
It scares me to think about each of us growing up too much. Eventually, most of the group will be married and have kids and move about the country. We can't stay in our 20s, 30s, and 40s forever (I'm told). I hate thinking about the day when just some of us will return and it won't be the same. But until then, all I can do is live inside the moments that we are here - and our family is still this tight. For as long as I can, I'll keep coming back to Jamaica without re-questioning my decision each year. This is tradition. And we're a family. That's what you do.
--Julie (4th year)
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Rain, Rain Go Away (Wednesday)
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Mary's Child (Tuesday)
All I can say is that as we continue on our mission and we get closer to Thanksgiving, it really felt like a good reason to be thankful...family, friends, work, fun, jokes, sharing, emotions, and love. In the famous words of Roy James - One heart, one God, one love. Jamaica the land we love.
--Nisha (2nd year)
Monday, November 15, 2010
We're On Jamaica Time (Monday)
Today while working at Mary's Child, I found myself frustrated by the amount of time that I felt was being wasted. There seemed to be more people than work and often times a group of us was just standing around. We all had been so eager to start working today, so standing idle was not something we had planned on.
While at first frustrating, I've come to realize that not being able to all work at once gave us other opportunities. Karen and Carla got to spend time with the mothers at Mary's Child and play with the babies. Smaller projects let Christina and Nisha work closely with Roy James and get to know him. And while we are all waiting around, Kasey and Jamaica Kevin treated us all to a walkoff. (Sorry, Kasey, but Jamaica Kevin definitely won.)
I'm learning to appreciate the moments that all of the waiting allows for. In the morning when we are ready and waiting to leave, we get to spend more time with the kids at Sophie's Place. Today, while waiting for there to be materials to complete projects, we got to spend time with the babies and mothers at Mary's Child. When we return home, it most likely will not be building a walkway that we remember. It will be the moments that we spent getting to know the people of Mustard Seed, the conversations with mothers at Mary's Child and the smiles from the kids that stay with us long after we leave Jamaica.
~Meaghan (1st year)
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Our Friend Anthony aka "Tony" (Sunday)
Lessons of God (Saturday)
We know we're supposed to trust in God on this trip but sometimes we forget that until we're tested. We arrived at JFK and attempted to check 20- 50lb bins, 20 suitcases, and 20 carry-ons full of medical supplies, donations, and other important things for the week but this year they told us we couldn't get the baggage fee waived. This is not what we wanted to hear since we were counting on not having to spend that amount of money on luggage. But by the grace of God we met an incredible Jet Blue agent named Faquan who had done mission work in college. He helped us, along with some very passionate begging and a few tears, convince his supervisor to waive the fees and we were able to avoid spending $600 that can now be used to feed the children. Lesson one- trust.
Going anywhere with 20 people can be difficult but add in international travel, no sleep, and some very thorough custom agents and we were very thankful to make it on to our bus and leave the airport behind us!
After a quick stop for some very delicious Jamaican beef patties, we finally made it to Sophie's Place! We settled in, unpacked, and most of the group headed right downstairs to spend time with the kids. For some of us we saw familiar faces, and for others they were meeting some incredible new friends for the first time. What was striking to some of us was the reality we sometimes forget- these kids are sick. Anthony, one of our favorite kids because of his impact on us in past years, was asleep in one of the back rooms which is not like him. We found out later that shortly after we first saw him he was taken to the hospital. We take for granted that these kids will be here year to year changing lives and it is easy to forget how fragile they are. We know that God has His hand on them and we need to believe that He will always be with them in their good times and their suffering. Lesson two- faith.
After a dinner of dumplings and Hardo bread we were treated to a very special concert by Fr. Ho Lung and Friends with Missionaries of the Poor. While the Jamaica humor and references to cricket were a little hard to follow the pure joy and celebration of Jesus Christ was amazing to see and be a part of. The name of the concert was "Praise Him" and the entire auditorium was so full of faith and passion and just overflowing with Joy in Him. It was humbling to be a part of and such a reminder that in all things including singing and dancing and laughing He is with us. Lesson three - praise.
It wasn't long after we got in the bus to come home that half the team was asleep. It was a long day but one full of trust, faith, and praise. We know we have so much more to experience this week, but day one certainly reminded us of why we are here. Until tomorrow...
Bridget & Michael (6th year, Co-Leaders)
Friday, November 12, 2010
Feel the Rhythm...Feel The Rhyme...Get on Up, It's Mission Time!
When are you most at peace? For me it is when I am at my best. It is when I know I am living the kind of life I am called to live. When I am striving to get closer to God and be the person He means for me to be. In those moments days don't blend together...thoughts aren't all over the place...and the unimportant doesn't even cross my mind. In those moments I can be who I am supposed to be. In those moments I have the ability to be the change I wish to see in the world.
In less than 24 hours I will be in this place again. But why is it only in Jamaica that I feel truly at peace? Leading this trip with Bridget for six years, our teams have heard me preach about how we need to take the lessons we learn in Jamaica back home with us. They have heard me talk about how the feelings we have need to drive us everyday. They have heard me beg them to find the words to describe their experiences in Jamaica because in sharing it they will influence others. The truth is, it isn't easy.
This year I am afraid. I am afraid because I don't know what God is going to reveal to me this week. What does He need me to see? What does He need me to know? At the same time I am so excited for this team. They have worked so hard to raise the money for this trip. They have given of themselves so selflessly for the kids, many of them having never been before so they don't truly know exactly what they have been working for. That's the moment I can't wait for- watching this team arrive in Jamaica. Watching them meet the kids and be unable to contain their smiles. Watching them hold the hands of Daniel, Ramario, and all of the other kids. Watching them find peace. Watching them be who He meant for them to be.
And together we'll figure out the rest. We'll talk about how we process what we experience. We'll talk about how we bring it back with us and use it in our everyday lives. We'll work together to change the world.
Every year I ask the team to leave all of their worries and expectations at home. I ask them to come ready to work and to be open to the experience. I ask them to live simply, give generously, and smile. This year I am going to ask them one more thing- be ready to find peace.
On Tuesday morning I turned on the TV and Cool Runnings, the movie about the Jamaican bobsled team, was on. I smiled and I quickly emailed the team with my own variation of the key line from the movie: Feel the rhythm...feel the rhyme...get on up, it's mission time!
--Michael (6th Year, Team Co-Leader)
Friday, November 5, 2010
Rookie No More
Last year I wrote a blog from my rookie standpoint and now I’m only days away from starting year 2. Some of my feelings are the same, and some are completely different than a year ago, however one thing is the same—there are a lot of them. As I said in my half marathon blog post this team has forever changed the person I am. No matter where we are as a team: the church, a fundraiser at a bar, trying to sell used items on a sidewalk, just spending time together enjoying a meal or a drink, or of course Jamaica, I always feel at home and at peace. Somewhere someone said the people to surround yourself with are the people who make you the best version of yourself and that is what I see in this team. So my first emotion is that I feel Lucky. First lucky to have to this team in my everyday life and then that is compounded by the love from the children and caretakers at Mustard Seed.
I’m also feeling anxious in every sense of the word. I’ve been working toward this year’s trip since we returned last year and now it’s ALMOST here and the countdown is always going in my head and now I’m just anxious to get on the road. Of course the anxiety also sets in other ways. But there is also just the worrying side of the anxiety of getting everything ready to go to Jamaica and what we will experience once we’re there. I’m trying to mentally prepare myself knowing some kids I saw last year that were relativity healthy could have taken a turn for the worse in the past year. I try to remember that on the other side of that I will also be seeing progress in children learning and getting healthier.
So this no longer rookie is ready to bring on the new challenges and new rewards of the 2010 trip!