Listen (72 hours later)

Before we left I posted to this blog that I was looking forward to the peace I hoped to get while in Jamaica. Sitting here 72 hours after we returned, I am still at peace.

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!)

What I am taking with me (Saturday)

I am looking over the wing of our Jet Blue airbus and I see Jamaica growing smaller as we leave. I just finished the delicious beef patty and festival that Gretchen, Teri, and Suzanne bought for the team to eat on the plane. We nearly missed our flight - the airport had to page each of our names individually! But things are a bit quieter now that the plane has taken off and I can use this time to reflect on the past eight days.

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

My Final Reflection (Friday)

Starting your day with Hardo bread, Kevin's eggs and a cup of Jamaican coffee while looking out at the mountains is close to perfection. After 7 days, it doesn't get old. For our last day of work we spent the morning at My Father's House, seeing some of the residents like Dwight and Michael, and then joining in the morning prayers with Father Gregory. After a tour of the grounds, we had the chance to buy some pottery that is made on site before heading back to Mary's Child to finish the work we had started earlier in the week. To quote Jenna, it's amazing what can be accomplished when you put 20 motivated and strong adults to work for 3 days. The entire yard was transformed. Bridget and Karen put the finishing touches on the walkway, Team Fence painted and finished off the fences, and the boys mixed concrete for the base of the trash storage unit. I even had enough time to plant some flowers, with the help of Julie #2 and Gary, Mustard Seed Communities' resident earth guru. I have never seen a man be so gentle with God's earth!

After some much needed baby holding (every woman on the trip had a baby on her shoulder out in the courtyard at the end of the day, there are pictures), we headed down to Mathew 25:40 for an ice cream party and some active playtime. My favorite memory from the day is Cesco, Kevin and Andrew forming the base of a human pyramid that held 5 or 6 boys at one time. Everyone was being showered in love and ice cream.

As the title of this post says, this is my final reflection on the week. Coming back for my 4th trip to Jamaica I thought I knew what to expect. However, once again, God has proven to me that He works in mysterious ways, and nothing is ever as you expect it. This week was an emotional roller coaster. I was thrilled to be coming back and so excited to see all the kids that have become part of my family. On the opposite end of that spectrum, this week we lost one of those family members. Anthony was one of my babies, one of the kids I always refer to when telling people about the trip, one of those people that is always on my mind. This colored my week. I was much more reflective and quiet. For those of you who know me, you know this is out of character. I started to think about how the work we does impacts these kids, and if my physical and emotional exhaustion helps one child live a better life for one day, then it is all worth it. I have always known that in coming here, but the perspective on Anthony's short life and how many people he touched in that time makes me want to work even harder to give all the other children one more happy day. And for that, I am eternally grateful to him.

In closing, I think it is appropriate to paraphrase one of my favorite benedictions: "Our worship has ended, but our service has just begun."

~ Kasey (4th Year)

Growing Up Jamaican (Thursday)

Earlier this week Mike and Bridget asked us: "What brought you to Mustard Seed this year?" Unsure of of my answer on the spot, I delayed (but I couldn't escape a cross-fire stare competition from Mike for not answering at the time). It was hard to answer on the spot because I don't think about the "why" anymore. It's tradition. It's part of my life. It's an annual family vacation.

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)

Rain, Rain Go Away (Wednesday)

Wake up 6:30 - Jamaican coffee! Depart for Jerusalem. Jerusalem is a special place for many of our group members because it is the home of many sponsor children and Dare to Care, the community where children living with HIV/AIDS reside. Jerusalem includes about 200 children and caregivers on a campus like facility, with housing, schools, a chapel and even a health clinic. Oh and also real actual free range livestock including sheep and goats.

A morning at Jerusalem always begins with a tour, morning prayer and many songs. We sang one our favorite songs "Tings Already Betta" in hopes to stop the rain. However, the Mustard Seed Leaders are never impressed with our singing and neither were the heavens since it rained and rained all morning long. Due to the rain, we found ourselves inside of the multi-purpose building (think small warehouse) full of miscellaneous items just waiting to be organized. We created TEAMS to better tackle the many obstacles: candle team, tile team, diaper team & the box stacking team. We managed to create some type of order before we got into the rough heavy lifting and moving of items after lunch. A few of us stayed at Dare to Care (Julie #2, Christina, Bridget & Kevin) to visit with our sponsor children and help with other things there.

We missed Father Benny at our afternoon prayer service, but we managed on our own (and "Father Michael") with lots of songs, readings and reflections. In hopes that the rain would stop (which it didn't) we had lunch and then continued our work in the warehouse.

After our hard work it was off to PARTY! (Of course at this point the rain stopped.) KFC, Cake and Ice Cream for Boom-Boom's Birthday (Bridget & Kevin's sponsor child). Looking around the room every single child was perfectly behaved while either gobbling up their food or singing a hit single from back home (renditions of Sean Kingston's "Beautiful Girls" and Jennifer Hudson's "Spotlight" were among them). Bridget and Kevin sat as the proud parents in the front of the room, while all of us held onto a child, the youngest one, Leo, fast asleep in Smidgen (Jordan's) arms.

Sad farewells and lots of hugs with the children followed before Auntie Clovel revealed the results of our previous year's project- rebuilding and renovating "Martha's House", a home which will house over 30 children. It was clear that our long back-wrenching days of tearing up cement, grading the land, tiling and painting had created a beautiful grassy yard for the children to play in and a cozy home for them to live.

We thought one good thing would come of the rain - SHOWERS - but alas we have no water at Sophie's Place again. Baby wipes it is...

~ Julie & Gretchen (2nd years)