Hoarfrost

We don't see it very often. I'm not sure that I've ever even seen it myself. I think the only time I've really heard much about it was when I was younger reading the Little House on the Prairie series. It seems to me that it came up a few times then!

Yesterday I was out driving through the countryside with my dad and a friend and all the trees were covered in a white substance and I couldn't remember there being any freezing rain to fall the night before that would have covered the trees with anything. Then my dad said he thought it was hoarfrost, something he'd never seen before. It happens when white ice crystals are loosely deposited on the ground or exposed objects, and these crystals form on cold clear nights when heat losses into the open skies cause objects to become colder than the surrounding air. It's absolutely beautiful to see! Breathtaking actually. Luckily I had my camera with me.

Go Sally Go!

This week we got, oh I don't know, maybe four inches of snow, before the temperatures plummeted into the single digits. Which of course was accompanied by high winds, with a wind chill of negative 20 or so. It's hard to say really. Anyways. I've got Sally out here with me these days and, well, this was a hard first round for her. She just isn't used to these cold temperatures. Virginia can get cold, but it's fairly mild, especially when compared to this!

Tonight I needed to take her out and I knew it would be a bit of a challenge, but goodness it took me a good thirty minutes to scrape all the ice off and to dig through the snow so she could actually get somewhere. Luckily for me, one of my housemates, Cheryl, came to my rescue and she was such a huge help! It probably would have taken me at least fifteen more minutes if she hadn't come out and helped me out! I should have known it was going to be a bit of a task when I tried to open the door and it was frozen shut on that side! I had to get in on the other side and crawl across. Not the easiest thing to do, and also not the first time I've had to do it!

Slowly but surely we made progress and finally Sally was able to beat the weather. And now she's resting safely in the garage. But just to be on the safe side, here in the next few days, I think I'm gonna take her in and have her checked out. It's best not to tell her, she doesn't like heights.

More Weekends Like This

I have decided that I need more weekends like this one in my life.

Friday spent with one of my closest friends in the city. Sitting. Laughing. Talking. All over pizza and a movie in the comfort of her home. Knowing that I'm welcome there anytime.

Saturday spent sleeping in. Lounging around. Venturing downtown to the Field Museum with another friend that lives in the city. Having a carefree afternoon. Getting all dressed up for a friend's birthday party. Going and relaxing and letting go and being myself. No stresses. Just plain ol' good fun.

Sunday spend sleeping in (again!). Relaxing. Being in no hurry whatsoever. Having no agenda. Nothing planned. Just being and doing.

Yep. A girl could use more weekends like this one.

But then again, if every weekend was like this, then it wouldn't be so special when it does happen. Or would it?

Cooking!

Tonight I prepared my first meal in my newly set up kitchen! It was a bit hard to get started when I first got home, but once I got going it was a ton of fun! I cooked up a bit of pasta with pesto. And then sauteed mushrooms in garlic and olive oil and added a few diced tomatoes. Throw those together and top it all off with a bit of Parmesan cheese and voila! A fabulous dinner! One of the best parts was I think I ended up cooking more mushrooms than pasta! Which might not seem quite right, but for me it was perfect!

Give Thanks

This year for Thanksgiving I did things a little different. For starters I didn't go anywhere. I decided to stay here in Elgin to celebrate the holiday with those I have met who have become my family. When I first moved out here in the fall of 2007 I was adopted by a family at the Highland Avenue CoB, and over the past several years we have enjoyed spending time together and getting to know each other, and they truly have become a second family to me. I enjoy every opportunity I have to spend time with the Chapman's. So this year in deciding to stay around for the holiday, I knew I had a family to spend it with. As it turns out, I was also invited to the Shively home as well to celebrate the day with them. So I had not one, but two full meals in one day. AND, a friend from back east was passing through town on Thanksgiving, so he was also more than welcome to join me at both places.

So then this morning I was talking with one of our project directors for Brethren Volunteer Service and Thanksgiving came up as it tends to do this time of year. We were exchanging greetings and asking how the holiday went. And he was telling me how he realized this year just how important the relationships we have with one another are, especially during a holiday such as Thanksgiving. And I got to thinking about it and I agree. I mean everyone talks about the food, but there is so much more to the holidays than what you're eating. This may seem obvious, but it's important to actually connect the dots, even on a picture that seems obvious without the lines.

So this is me being thankful for the many relationships that I've been blessed with over the years. And for the relationships that I'm blessed with now.

Sunny Side of Life

Let's face it. I'm an emotional person. And when I haven't seen the sun for a few days, watch out! But then when the sun comes back out again, things become more even keel. Especially when I can actually enjoy the sun's warmth while being out doors.

This fall I feel as though we've been so incredibly lucky. I mean here it is, the middle of November, and I am still able to be outside (well when I'm not working at the office) in short sleeves and enjoy the beautiful blue skies and the warm sun. And I just absolutely love it. Yesterday I drove from Virginia to Pennsylvania and it was a gorgeous drive. Blue skies with whisps of white clouds strewn across it. Brilliant reds and yellows and oranges scattered along the road sides in the trees. While the peak of fall may be gone, there are definitely still remains left to appreciate and enjoy.

This weather is also helping me to have a more positive outlook on life. It's like the song says: "keep on the sunny side, always on the sunny side. keep on the sunny side of life!" It's definitely not an easy thing to do. Sometimes it's easier to focus on the negative things in life, but I'm trying to keep on the sunny side as an intentional effort.

It definitely helps.

Taking a Mini-Vacation of Sorts

I was asked the other day what are things that help me to relax and allow me to take a mini-vacation without actually going anywhere. Things that initially came to mind were active things, such as playing Ultimate Frisbee, running, and walking.

Then it struck me that being in nature is how I escape and take a load off for a few hours is what, in many ways, revitalizes me. Whether it's walking along a river, hiking through a wooded area, watching the sunset, going to a forest preserve, picking apples, or whatever. I haven't been able to spend much time out and about in nature these days. And I think it's taking it's toll on me and my sanity level.

One of my closest friends asked me if there are things that I do that I get lost in. I think this has come up before. But playing Ultimate Frisbee is definitely one of those things. If I just let myself go and have a good time and focus on the game and simply being in the moment, it's just awesome. And it's a good feeling to let everything else go for a few hours. Another thing is photography. I absolutely love taking photos. Often times even when I don't even have my camera, I look at something and wonder how I could possibly capture it. I want, and in many ways need, to get back into photography.

I'm beginning to realize that it's good, and healthy, to find those things in life that allow us to take care of ourselves, of our mind, body and spirit. If we're not taking the time to replenish ourselves then how is it that we can be expected to give give give. It can turn into a vicious cycle if we're not careful. This was inspired by my friend Aaron who asked us to be intentionally aware of how we are taking care of ourselves. And I really appreciate that and am incredibly thankful for the reminder!

Seeking the Ever Present Joy

So I've got a personal goal. To seek joy in this life that I have surrounding me. I've had a bit of a negative outlook on life for, well awhile now, but it's been much more serious and obvious the last week or so. I have found myself laughing jubilantly one second and breaking down in tears the next. It's not that anything has really been wrong, it is more that nothing has seemed right. My outlook on life had been turned upside down and I'm attempting to make an intentional effort to right it. To change my perspective; my attitude.

There are so many positive things in life, specifically in my life. But lately I've found myself focusing on the many unanswered questions and missing what is not in front of me, rather than rejoicing in what is. It's been exhausting and I'm ready to move forward in a more positive light. So here it goes. Wish me luck!

What Do You Do When...

What do you do when you're mind is running at a million thoughts a second? When you know you have a lot on your mind, yet none of your thoughts can completely form themselves? When you find yourself paralyzed by the amount of work, by things looming ahead. You have extreme ups and downs as you go about your day; your everyday activities. There's really nothing wrong, yet there's really nothing right. There are too many obstacles in the way. It's hard to focus on one thing, one task. You want someone to ask 'how are you doing?' And you want to reply honestly. Yet when the question is asked nothing comes to mind, other than 'good' or 'pretty good' or 'I'm fine thanks'. How do you get out the anxiety that is inside of you? The unrest. The unanswered. The unknown. The doubts. The fears. The joys. The excitements. The happiness. It could, and would, take hours of conversation for it all to come out naturally and truthfully, but, who has time for that?

So the question is...what do you do?

If Not Now, Then When

What happens when you combine text from Mark 12:41-44, BVS and service and a focus on embracing your gifts? Well this is whatcha get!

If Not Now, Then When?

In September of 2007, Jon Zunkel entered into BSV Unit 277 with the hope of making the world a better place. He quickly realized that no matter how much you give, you receive more back than you could ever imagine. Jon shares this experience with us:

Our orientation unit spent our last week in Kansas City. One afternoon we set out on what was called Operation Knock-Knock. We divided into groups of three and set out into an inner-city neighborhood. We were to knock on doors and offer to help the owner in any way we could: clean up the yard, vacuum, do dishes, or any form of service. All 31 of us volunteers donned our purple BVS shirts and out we went.

Our group had a hard time finding someone for whom we could serve. We were walking down the street and a lady standing at her car yelled across to us, “What’s those purple shirts about?” We stopped and told her about BVS and Operation Knock-Knock. She told us about her life. She had just gone through a series of heartbreaking events: she was a single mother raising three kids, one of whom was just diagnosed with sickle cell anemia; her house had been broken into three times in the last year; she had just lost her job; AND she was just about to move. After telling us about her hardships she asks us where we are staying. We tell her and she says, “I’ll be by with some drinks for all of you.” We protested, but she insists. We ask if we can do anything for her. She says she is doing fine, but thank you. We thank her for talking with us and we head on our way.

Two nights later there is a knock on the door and our orientation leader returns carrying four bags of groceries. The lady from our conversation followed through with her promise. In the bags we found drinks, chips, cookies, bread and lunch meat. Our friend, who we tried to serve, wanted to send us off. She wanted no recognition, she did not come in to meet the three of us again or the group at large. She just wanted to show her support.

I learned a powerful lesson that day—one that I hope stays with me for a long time. Life is not about serving people or trying to make peoples lives better. Life is about working with people. So we all can grow and make the world a better place together.

That’s really what it’s all about. Doing what you can. Giving all you can. Not focusing on what you don’t have, but on what you do. And being willing to give of what you have. This woman that Jon met that day is much like the woman from the passage in Mark. A woman who is, in many ways, an average everyday person, much like Jon and the many other volunteers who have come through Brethren Volunteer Service. Much like each and every one of us gathered here today. We are not super heroes, we don’t have supernatural powers, but we do have something to offer, in fact, we have a lot to offer if we let ourselves.

In The Message, Eugene Peterson tells the story from Mark in this way:

Sitting across from the offering box, he was observing how the crowd tossed money in for the collection. Many of the rich were making large contributions. One poor widow came up and put in two small coins—a measly two cents. Jesus called his disciples over and said, "The truth is that this poor widow gave more to the collection than all the others put together. All the others gave what they'll never miss; she gave extravagantly what she couldn't afford—she gave her all."

When I think about this passage I imagine a woman walking through a busy and crowded temple, towards the offering plate quietly and slowly. I don’t believe that she was in any hurry and I can’t imagine that she thought anyone could possibly be watching her. Paying any attention to her whatsoever. It could be that she didn’t want to be noticed; didn’t feel she was worth anything since she was a widow. Despite this possible feeling of unworthiness, she gave of herself willingly and completely. She knew that the Lord would provide, and so she acted upon that knowledge. Jesus was watching, observing what was going on in the temple. He saw this woman and immediately made her an example for the Disciples.

In the same way that Jesus was observing the widow, and was able to recognize the gift, she had to offer, through her example; we also have the ability to recognize gifts in one another. I was also in that fall unit in Kansas City and one Sunday morning I went with a group of volunteers to a nearby church for worship. We were welcomed warmly into the church that morning. Although the sanctuary itself was fairly large, it was a small group gathered there that morning, but that didn’t matter. Those who were gathered there that morning were being spiritually fed, and it was an amazing thing to be part of. There was excitement and joy and laughter and it was clear that Christ was present with us that morning. I remember clearly the point when the worship leader asked if there was anyone in the congregation who could play the piano and one of the guys in our group said immediately, ‘Ashley can!’ And so that morning, Ashley, one of our fellow volunteers, played all the hymns and special music. We knew that Ashley had the gift of music and in this case there was a need and so she was called forth to use her gift. Take a moment to look around you. To the person on your left; the person on your right. What gifts do you see in them? Maybe what you see is a gift that they are aware of, but maybe it’s something they had never thought of before. Each one of us can act as a sounding board for each other. A way to come together as a community of believers and share our gifts as one body.

It’s also important to take some time to acknowledge the gifts we have in ourselves. These past two years of service have taught me a lot about who I am as an individual as well as the gifts I have to offer. There are many things I have learned over these past few years. How to be more open and understanding and speak my mind. How to ask difficult questions and think a bit deeper about what they mean. How to be more eco-friendly and socially aware of what’s going on in the world. How to use the many resources that are around me. How to live in community with anywhere from four to eight housemates, each with very different personalities and dietary needs, using only one vehicle between us and making it work. I have learned more about myself and my gifts from the act of living as a volunteer rather than from the work I have done as a volunteer. The gift of working together when it comes to keeping things in our volunteer house running smoothly. Patience when a house meeting is called, or if someone is not keeping up with their chores. Compromise so that everyone gets to do what they need, or want, to do. What may seem like a simple run to the store may turn into an all afternoon event depending on what others in the house have going on at the same time. Being able to recognize the difference between a want and a need.

What we learn, and what our gifts are, often go hand in hand. Experience, in this case through service opportunities, and is considered by some to be out of the norm, is a time for growth. A time of personal discovery and discernment. This is extremely common for all those who spend a year or more of their lives serving. I’ve chosen two stories to share with you of exactly this, volunteers learning and growing and discovering their own gifts, and who they are, within their own projects.

Ben Bear is a second year volunteer at an intentional community house in Cincinnati, Ohio. He writes this:

This work becomes personal for me. True, there is a line that needs to be drawn so as not to get too involved. However, to make these people and situations completely a business-like affair isn't possible. For example, I realized today that one of our guests is one day younger than I am. It makes her plight seem so much more real to look at where she is and think, "That could have been me." She has five children between the ages of three and eight. Nobody wants to rent to a single mom with five kids who can't find a job in a depressed economy, but what is she supposed to do? Yesterday I went with another guest to help her move her belongings; she had been asked to leave due to non-compliance with the program. We pulled up in front of the building and she whisked away her three kids - all under the age of three - into a building that no person of any age should be asked to live in. As I helped her carry in her earthly possessions, walking through hallways littered with garbage and up stairwells reeking of urine, I wanted to imagine that this wasn't happening. You can't see things like that and remain indifferent - it's personal.

Lauren Ferrell is serving a two year term in San Pedro, Honduras and shares these words with us:

I am not looking at what I do as “work” anymore, especially the time I spend with the kids. This is my home for the time being. Something we talk a lot about in BVS is accompaniment, or simply living along side the people. This is a brilliant idea in theory, but in practice has surprisingly been one of my biggest challenges. I obviously still have a lot to learn. I constantly have the mindset of go, go, go, do, do, do and find myself getting agitated when people want to stop and talk. Imagine that. It has also been humbling to live along side the children in the home- to eat the same food, to ride with them on the school bus to my yoga class, to help in the laborious process of making tortillas for 80 kids, (or anything for 80 kids for that matter!), sharing my TV, my sun block, my nail polish remover, my toothpaste. I know it sounds selfish, but I have to admit this was hard for me at first. The irony is even though sometimes I feel like life is hard here, I have so many privileges that these kids don’t, such as living in the biggest house on the property while they sleep in dorm rooms with bunk beds, being served bigger portions of food and not having to wait in line for seconds, going out whenever I want to, sitting in an air-conditioned room to do my computer work, etc. And I know that I have a family and a home and plenty of opportunities waiting for me back in the States. There is no comparison. And, the ironic thing is, that these kids are the lucky ones. I have heard it said that Hogar Emanuel is like the Hilton of children’s homes in Honduras, and it is true. Our kids have three solid meals a day, health care, clothing, quality education, a social worker and psychologist. They go on trips, they receive birthday presents, they have parties. In short they are doing pretty good compared to the children living on the street, or in impoverished, abusive homes or even in the extremely poorly run state orphanages. It is all relative. Lesson: be grateful for what I have!

These experiences we have are avenues for our gifts to reveal themselves. The widow in the passage is noticed because she is a widow. The woman that Jon met on the street wanted to give back to these volunteers who are giving of themselves. Ashley found herself in a church that needed a pianist so she was able to offer her gift of music. Through Ben and Lauren’s experiences they are seeing a whole new side to society and culture, and by lending a hand to those in need are learning compassion and understanding. Our experiences show us our gifts and also allow us to use those gifts to make the world a better place one by one.

If we don’t use these gifts now, when will we use them? Why are we waiting to use what God has given us? Has blessed us with so freely. There is a song by Carrie Newcomer, a Quaker folk song artist, called If Not Now. These words are so incredibly simple, yet have so much to teach us. Hear her words and meditate upon them.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T7lFBZasjsQ

The time is now. Size does not matter; amount, level, degree. It’s the way that we give of ourselves. The mindset that we’re in. In the case of the widow, Jesus is pointing out to us that this woman, this widow, came forward to offer everything she had in this world. What would it mean for each of us, to offer all that we have for the glory of God and our neighbor’s good? What would it take for you to sit down and take a minute to write down five gifts that you feel you have? What would it mean to ask a trusted friend to take a minute to write down five gifts that THEY believe you have? Do these gifts coincide with one another? Or are they completely different? Now that you have recognized these gifts, what will you do with them? Will you be like the widow and give completely and willingly of what you have? Or will you be like the others in the temple and give what you will never miss? What are we, as followers of Christ, holding back and keeping for ourselves? What are you waiting for? If not now, then when?

The View from My Car

Tonight I was driving along in my car and I saw many things that made it a fabulous evening for a drive:

driving west while the sun is setting causes for more than an hour of beautiful colors swirling together in the sky, a straight row of five weeping willows whose leaves have turned a rich shade of yellow, fires burning and smoke billowing creating a much missed smell of fall, crossing bridges over the Illinois River and seeing barges putt through the dark waters, the brown corn stalks standing straight and tall while lining the roads, the majestic and somewhat surreal windmills as the giant blades turned in the evening air

This is My Home

At Highland Avenue we have had two coffee houses this fall featuring several folk artists in the area. Both evenings this song was sung and it's just beautiful. It was written by Dave Carter and he refers to it as an eco-spirituality number. I was sitting in my office yesterday at work and this song just popped into my head and now I can't stop listening to it!! So I thought I'd share. Enjoy!

ARTIST: Dave Carter
TITLE: Gentle Arms of Eden

On a sleepy endless ocean
When the world lay in a dream
There was rhythm in the splash and roll
But not a voice to sing
But the moon fell on the breakers
And the morning warmed the waves
'Til a single cell did jump and hum
For joy as though to say

{Refrain}
This is my home
This is my only home
This is the only sacred ground that I have ever known
And should I stray
In the dark night alone
Rock me Goddess in the gentle arms of Eden

Then the one shone bright and rounder
'Til the one turned into two
And the two into ten thousand things
And old things into new
And on some virgin beach head
One lonesome critter crawled
And he looked about and shouted out
In his most astonished drawl

{Refrain}

Then all the sky was hummin'
And the ground was carpet green
And the wary children of the woods
Went dancin' in between
And the people sang rejoicing
When the fields were glad with grain
This song of celebration 
From their cities on the plain

{Refrain}

Now there's smoke across the harbor
And there's factories on the shore
And the world is ill with greed and will
And enterprise of war
But I will lay my burdens
In the cradle of your grace
And the shining beaches of your love
And the sea of your embrace

This is my home
This in my only home

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bAGMATHlSK4&feature=related

Can Someone Say Sardines?!

So tonight I hosted our youth group from Highland Avenue at the house for a Halloween Party. It was to be a pretty simple evening of sugar cookie decorating and devouring and Halloween-esque movie watching. Well, we did consume LOTS of sugar cookies. And candy corn. And candy pumpkins. And brownies. And popcorn (I mean we had to have a little bit of salt to offset the massive amounts of sugar). And we did end up watching a movie, but it was one that was showing on TV. And that was fine with everyone. The unexpected thing was that mixed in with the food eating and movie watching was, oh, about two hours of sardines.

Now for those of you who aren't familiar with sardines it's a form of hide and go seek where one person hides and everyone else goes and finds them but when they do find them, they hide with them. It's a great game to play in a space where there are lots of dark corners and hiding places. Did I mention that it is best played in the dark? So you turn off all the lights in the building.

And just for the record, the BVS House is a fabulous place for this game. For many reasons actually. One being that we have a basement AND an attic. Both equally creepy! It's possible to circle through the whole house without being seen. Being heard is an entirely different thing because this house is OLD so it creaks and groans a lot! But it's an awesome place to play this game and the youth had a great time with it. And I'm not gonna lie, I did too! It was funny to hear the shrieks of terror as someone accidentally (or intentionally) ran into someone in the dark or a cobweb, and to hear the giggling commence as people ran into walls or people's arms or legs. I'll be the first to admit that I was right there with them, I had my share of yelling and giggling!

It was a fabulous night all around! And now I'm not quite as scared of the basement as I was before!

Apple-licious Memories

I love the fall season for many reasons, but in this particular case it's because there are tons of apples available. You can go apple picking and then make all sorts of apple-licious things! Now, I can't say that I myself have gone apple picking this fall, but I have at least thought about it! And I ended up receiving a bag full of apples that someone else had the joy of picking.

So I had these apples and wasn't quite sure what I was going to do with them. But then I realized that I had a hankering for some baked apples. This is probably because a good friend of mine had made me baked apples a few weeks before and I wanted to try my hand at it! And that's what I did.

It was my night to make dinner and it was a meal that shouldn't have taken too terribly long, but because I decided to try this new dish, it added a bit of time. So to begin I needed to peel and core the apples. I didn't think too much of this task until I started coring the apples. I cheated a bit and cut them in half first, but when I was cutting the cores out of the halves I had several flashbacks from my childhood.

From all the times I was able to help my grandparents make applesauce and apple butter in their house on Green Street. They had several apple trees out back so we would pick them and then prepare the apples and then cook them down into applesauce. I loved eating the freshly made, lightly spiced applesauce while it was still warm.

I also remembered helping my great aunt and uncle make applesauce. And it was from them that I learned the proper way to cut into an apple to get out the core and not be wasteful of the rest of the apple. I can remember watching Uncle Floyd's giant hands using a small, and very sharp, knife to cut the apples and throw them into a huge pot to cook. We would be sitting around with Aunt Kitty and we would just talk and laugh and I would try my hardest to do a good job. I was much slower than either my aunt or uncle when it came to cutting the apples and they knew how to do it so incredibly well. After all, they had years of experience while I was still learning.

These two memories have been on my mind these past few days. And while I'm so thankful for the memories themselves, I'm more thankful and oh so very blessed to have these folks in my life to have shared these experiences with.

A Funny Story

This weekend I was visiting with a friend of mine who is a counselor at McPherson College in Kansas. McPherson is one of our denominational colleges for the Church of the Brethren. I met Matt several years ago at Annual Conference because we were both there representing our respected colleges. Bridgewater for me, McPherson for Matt. He's been an admissions counselor as long as I've known him. Well I saw him this weekend while I was in Kansas for The Gathering, which is a district wide conference minus the business that usually takes place at district conference. Which basically means it's pretty awesome. This is all very important information for the following exchange...

So Matt and I were walking back to where the youth were meeting through out the weekend. You know, talking and catching up on how life has been since we saw each other over the summer. He was excited because he told me that his role at the college had changed and now he is a counselor for the Brethren students on campus. I thought about this for a minute, not quite understanding on why Brethren students needed counseling...

This was because my mind immediately went to a scenario in which a student would come to Matt telling him that they had a phobia of other people washing their feet and are unable to participate in feet washing services at Love Feast. And that they were coming to Matt so that he could help talk them through this phobia of theirs.

I don't know why that is what I thought of, but it was. And so I told him that and we both had a good laugh over it. Of course that's not his job. His new job as the Brethren counselor is so that he can focus on bringing more Brethren students to campus through recruitment. Which makes total sense.

Of course, I am still totally amused at the idea of having a counselor available to help with these little Brethren quirks...such as a phobia of others touching your feet. Which is very possible. But what would happen if there was a Brethren student who didn't like...well, ice cream...oh dear.

The Best Panara Visit EVER

So last night as a way to welcome our new housemate, Don, to Elgin we all went to dinner at Panara Bread. So we all piled into our totally awesome white, eight passenger van and headed off to Panara. We got there and were up at the counter to give our orders, and I had actually already started, when one of the guys behind the counter (pretty sure a manager of sorts) started asking questions about who we were. Apparently we looked a little odd strollin in together as a group of young adults. I started listening to their conversation and completely forgot that there was a worker trying to take my order!

So the guy asked who we were. And so we told him that we are a group of volunteers in the Brethren Volunteer Service all working for the Church of the Brethren. He got really excited and started telling us about his daughter who is spending 11 months volunteering in the Kentucky mountains. We had a good, yet brief conversation with him. (And for those of you who are wondering, I did finally finish ordering my food.) As the rest of us ordered our food I asked the guy if he had any discounts for volunteers. I asked it half joking and half serious. He responded that there might be some brownies involved with our meal at some point. We all laughed and got rather excited about the prospect of free brownies. You know, as volunteers we REALLY like free things. :)

So we were at our booth eating our dinners having a great time. Lots of laughter was involved to say the least. Anyways, suddenly there he was, he popped his head over the end wall of our booth and started talking to us again. Not gonna lie, it startled us just a wee little bit! He asked us how our food was and then asked if we had room for a treat. We all looked around at each other and said 'uh, yeah!' He told us to create a space in the middle of the table and he set down a tray that had seven or eight different kinds of pastries on it. It was absolutely awesome!! We looked at each other and at him almost speechless. He kept talking to us, asking us more questions about what it is that we each did as volunteers and asking for more information. It was funny because everyone looked at me because it's my job to talk to people about BVS!

After the question and answer time, he finally left us to dig into our goodies. It was funny because we each had staked out which pastry we wanted almost before he had even gone. And they were all pretty much delicious!

Needless to say it was the best Panara visit ever.

And the point of the story: tell people that you volunteer! It just might mean getting something delicious for free!!

A Youthful Perspective

I just attended one of the best, most relaxed yet challenging conference. Work took me to National Older Adult Conference in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina at Lake Junaluska. An absolutely beautiful location. You can't go wrong with a lake surrounded my mountains. At least not in my opinion.

I find myself in the minority since I am very much under age of being eligible to attend this conference. I'm about 26 years ahead of the game. For these four days I consider myself so lucky because I had about 900 sets of grandparents, aunts and uncles coming to talk with me and to learn more about me. Always wondering why this youngster as at their conference.

I had a blast though. Everywhere I went people were always telling me "you're too young to be here!" and that was the typical opening into a wonderful conversation about who I am and what their story is. The theme of this year's conference was Legacies of Wisdom. And I think it is so fitting for all ages to ponder. For three days I was surrounded by so much history and wisdom. One of the speakers talked of writing legacy wills, rather than the typical will that says what is to happen in the end. These legacy wills are a way to tell your story. To preserve it for generations to come. So that they know the life and legacy of their loved ones. I love hearing people's stories and with my work in BVS I encourage people to tell their story. I think it might be one of my favorite parts of the work I do. I wish I had the words to express how much this means to me. But, words are escaping me. When I listen to these stories as these older adults are retelling their story, a part of their life that has shaped them in so many ways, chills come over me. There is definitely the Spirit present in these moments. The Spirit is moving in each one of us.

Many times through the week people were thanking me for coming and sharing about the work of BVS and for taking the time to join them. But really, it is me who should be thanking those who took the time to share their story. And I did. As someone who could easily be their daughter, or grandaughter, or neice, or nephew, it meant so much for me to hear these stories. I wish there was a way to record them all before they are lost.

It was a week where I could be super goofy and at the same time could become involved in a serious conversation about life and the church and the direction that BVS is headed. I could take time to relax and take a nap if I wanted to (which one day I did!), or to sit outside on the rocking chairs and enjoy conversation with whoever was already there. This is how I managed to stumble across some relatives that I didn't even know! It was really cool. I sat down and Mart looked at my last name and said my something something something double cousin something something something married a guy with that last name. And I said yep that's my parents! It's not often that you cross someone in the CoB with the last name Flaten! That's for sure! It was a really neat evening.

It's so hard to remember everything that happened in my week. So much to say the least. All I know is that I had such a great and meaningful time. I'm already trying to figure out how to make it to the next NOAC even though I will still be waaaaaaaaaay too young! Yep, these Brethren know how to have a good time!

Good Weekend

After a summer of busy travel and new experiences, a weekend here at home to do with whatever I pleased was so extremely refreshing and much needed. I haven't had a free weekend since May. That's a long time.

So here is my fabulous weekend in a nutshell:

Saturday: slept in; played Ultimate for oh, I dunno, about 3 hours; created a feast of the infamous stuffed mushrooms (they never get old!) and vegetarian sushi for the housemates; watched Slumdog Millionaire

Sunday: attended church; ate lunch at the end of summer all church picnic at Wing Park (you really can't go wrong when it comes to Brethren pot lucks); came in second place in a croquet match; did laundry (gotta love those clean clothes!); went to dinner at the Barley House; watched a movie while folding laundry and attempting to download my photos from California and Oregon

Throw in there a lot of laughter and good conversation, blue skies and puffy white clouds with a bit of chill in the air and I've got myself a perfect weekend. It may sound busy to the average joe, but to me, it's exactly what was needed.

Believe it or not, that's an extremely chill weekend. And those are hard to find these days. Yup, it was a good weekend.

Who is Sharon?

So for some reason people have trouble remembering my name. Youth I work with call me anything from Karen and Shannon (which actually kind of make sense), to Lauren and Jill (apparently I look like I could have these names...).

One day, soon after returning from my workcamps, I wrote on my Facebook status that I was having an identity crisis and two very important people to me responded.

Beth, one of my housemates and closest friends wrote this:

Sharon is: BVS recruiter, woman, sister, friend (to many people, in many places, in many ways), explorer, questioner, frisbee-er, amazing, intelligent, playful, unique, and so many other wonderful things

Dana, one of my former housemates and another close friend continued with:

"so many other wonderful things," including: contagious laugh-er, deep spirit, loyal and incredibly empathetic friend, redhead, peanut-butter hater, fearless, world traveler, introverted extrovert, not scared to ask the hard questions, one of my favorite people in the world, and loved more than she can imagine.

I read these things that had been written on my behalf and I'm not gonna lie, there were a few tears threatening to fall from my face. So thanks to you both for the kind and ever loving words. They mean more than you can imagine. And believe me my friends, the love and friendship is mutual to the end of the world (and in Beth's case, the end of the universe) and back again a million times.

Mushrooms? YES PLEASE!

So I took today off. A personal day you might say. To come into the city of Chicago to visit my good friend Amber before my two British boys show up. (That's an entirely different story.) So we slept in this morning which was absolutely fabulous, not getting up until 9:30ish.

The morning started out with the making of eggs in a hole using the amazing multi-grain bread that I bought for Amber and Bethany as a 'thank you for letting us take over your apartment' gift. It was the beginning of something beautiful. As I sat on the floor of Amber's kitchen eating my egg in a hole, I was flipping through a cookbook and ooohing and ahhhing over the recipes and the photos that are ever so helpful. And that's where our day of food began.

We had a plan. This plan was to make ourselves a wonderful meal as an early dinner before picking the boys up from the airport. We had all day to go shopping for food and then create our masterpieces. We knew that we wanted mushrooms in some form or another. So after looking through the cookbooks we settled on chicken and mushroom risotto and asparagus for the main dish and then a strawberry rhubarb pie for dessert. Amazing? I think so.

I wish I could say that we went to the store and got the things we needed and put on our aprons and created these amazing things. Well this wasn't the case. I got a message that my friends were actually going to be getting in at 6:3opm rather than the original 7:00pm that we had planned into our days events. This cut a very crucial 30 minutes off of the time we had counted on. But no worries we regrouped and came up with a new idea.

NOW the idea was to have a light, late lunch of whatever struck our fancy at the grocery store and then take the boys out for some Chicago style pizza as a late 'welcome to Chicago!' dinner. Then Amber had the idea to make stuffed mushrooms using cream cheese, bleu cheese and green onions. I said I could make home made guacamole to go along with it. Then while we were at the store we decided to splurge on roasted red pepper hummus and pita chips. Throw in with those things some carrots, snap peas and grapes and we had ourselves a feast.

Oh and what a beautiful feast it was! The mushrooms were divine and simply melted in your mouth. The guacamole was amazing (once we figured out what spice was missing...silly salt). The hummus went brilliantly with the pita chips, carrots and snap peas. The grapes and blueberries were extremely refreshing. Add to that a mango green tea and SNAP. An amazingly, awesome and perfect meal.

So now we get back to the mushrooms. You know the ones that simply melted in your mouth? Yeah, you know you're jealous (as you should be!). Well, the very last mushroom I ate was by far the best one. It had great flavor. I can't even begin to describe it to you. For those of you who have seen Ratatouille, it's kind of like when Remi is experiencing food and there are all sorts of colors and shapes that explode around him as each flavor comes out in the dish. Yeah it was ten times better than that! Needless to say that after I ate this last mushroom, I was absolutely devastated. I wanted there to be more! In fact, I told Amber that I wished that someone would ring the doorbell at that very moment and have a dish full of these stuffed mushrooms. And I honestly really did!

But alas the doorbell did not ring. And there were no more stuffed mushrooms. But it was pretty much the most amazing thrown together meal ever! It was like we had a party. For the two of us. In our bellies. :)

Now onto the strawberry rhubarb pie, that's now going to be a strawberry (no rhubarb) crispish thing that we are creating ourselves....and the fun continues! YAY!


Bon appetit!

What if I Stay? What if I Go?

I was thinking today at church about the many people I know and the various types of relationships and friendships there are in the world. Well the world might be a bit broad, but I can at least think about the ones in my life.

Those who know me well know that I love to meet new people and to learn what I can about them. I love to learn what their story is. It's a great thing. I know a lot of people from many different parts of my life. I know people from church in Bridgewater and Westminster and now from Highland Avenue. I know people from Brethren Woods, Camp Swatara, Camp Mount Hermon, Camp Ithiel, Camp Myrtlewood. I know people from the dozen or so workcamps that I've led these past several summers. I know people from John Wayland Elementary, Pence Middle School, Turner Ashby High School, Bridgewater College, and the University of Glouschestershire. I know people from National Youth Conference, Young Adult Conference and Annual Conference. I know people from my BVS Unit. I know people in England and Germany and Nigeria.

Needless to say that through all of these places I have met my fair share of people. And in many cases I have this knack of remembering many of these people. AND I attempt to keep in touch with them. This is the hard part. How does one keep in touch with everyone that they've met over the years? It just isn't possible. And believe it or not I do recognise this fact. I'm not going to say that I like it, but I do realize that it isn't possible. I'm awful at keeping in touch. I'm not good at writing letters, or e-mails. It's nothing personal, I'm just not practiced in writing. I struggle with keeping up with this blog much of the time!

One thing I have been thinking more and more lately is how there are some people that we meet who are meant to pass through our lives after leaving their mark on our life. Whatever that mark may be. I struggle a great deal when I lose touch with a friend, someone that I thought I'd never lose touch with. It does sadden me, but this thought that people pass through our lives for a reason gives me a sense of peace. This is something that I am still thinking about and pondering but that is okay because relationships of all sizes and strengths matter to me.

Whirl Wind of a Life - Summer 2009

spending a weekend with fabulous young adults in the Church of the Brethren at Camp Swatara, learning and talking of 'one another,' singing beautiful traditional hymns as one body, getting in an awesome game of Ultimate

flying to Kansas City, Kansas to spend a week mentoring and learning from the amazing senior high youth of the Western Plains District at Camp Mount Hermon, watching the youth interact with community members at a soup kitchen for a random act of kindness, staying up all night talking over a flaming camp fire and not thinking anything about it

traveling to Harrisonburg, Virginia by train (one of my favorite ways to travel) to join 700 junior high youth and their advisors for a weekend of worship, fellowship, and fun, getting to visit some good friends in Bridgewater for an evening of good food and laughs, being bombarded by some of youth from workcamps last summer,sharing with youth about what Brethren Volunteer Service has in store for them when they are older, remembering the oh so famous hand hug

working countless hours with Beth to create a totally awesome tree for Annual Conference out of recycled cardboard and tin cans focusing on being environmentally friendly and reusing the things that we have available rather than getting more than we need, making my first trek to the west coast, having the opportunity to take a group of youth to a beach in San Diego, California for a day of learning and experiencing what Brethren Volunteer Service is all about and then treating them to ice cream afterwards, lounging by the pool at the resort we stayed at, eating fabulous raspberry sorbet

going on a road trip with Beth and Momma Merrill and Rachel from San Diego to Fremont and being amazed at how large California is and how diverse the terrain is, meandering around the great city of San Fransisco by myself and then again with my good Matthias, going around to some of the different nature parks in Fremont and hiking straight up them, watching fireworks on the 4th of July after taking our volunteers out for some fantastic Thai cuisine

flying into Eugene, Oregon not sure of how I would get from the airport to the Greyhound Bus Station downtown, sort of hitch hiking a ride from the gentleman who sat beside me on the plane (nice guy by the name of Bob), sitting beside a young man, named Jason, who was on leave from the army and on his way home while on the Greyhound, spending a week at Camp Myrtlewood and helping to prepare and eat wonderful home cooked food, having the opportunity to talk with John and Margaret for hours about life and our place in the world, taking hikes with Marley, the awesome Boxer pup, and running with him through the forest, watching the sun set over the Pacific, taking the time for a spontaneous camping trip in the Oregon wilderness with Niko and Tyler and sleep out under the open sky (despite the rain that chased us back in our car at 2 in the morning), realizing that I need wilderness in my life, oh and a dog (or two)

meandering around Portland and falling in love with the city even though I was there for a short time, taking public transportation everywhere, thinking about the possibility of moving to Portland and taking a class or two at a university there, walking through Powell's Bookstore and feeling as though I was in heaven, meeting my first pirate who happened to be completely decked out in pirate attire with a Scottish accent (no joke), talking with Pastor Kirby about the beauty that surrounds us in nature that God has blessed us with so abundantly, attending the Peace Church of the Brethren for Sunday morning services before flying home to Chicago

returning to Elgin for three very busy days, spending an afternoon at Camp Emmaus with a bunch of fabulous senior high youth, giving a presentation on BVS and almost choking myself on the dust in the lodge, eating mountain pies made with biscuit dough = GREAT idea, seeing all my frisbee friends and getting to play Ultimate

orientation for BVS found me in Harrisonburg, Virginia for a week, climbed some mountains in West Virginia and went swimming at Blue Hole on Route 33 West, spent an afternoon at Our Community Place, created a labyrinth that represented my life journey, met 15 totally awesome volunteers and wished them luck during their time of service

leading two week long service oriented camps, one in Keyser, West Virginia and the other in North Fort Myers, Florida, was able to spend those two weeks with some awesome youth and being extremely blessed by each of them, getting my hands dirty and the great sense of satisfaction that comes along with that feeling

attending the wedding of two friends from my time at Bridgewater College and wishing them well as they begin their lives together, eating super yummy crepes and chatting with a good friend, driving through the night to join my family at Smith Mountain Lake for a short holiday, talking for hours with Allison while floating in the wonderful waters of the lake, playing card games with grandma and winning, enjoying a time of no stress before the storms come again

driving my car from Bridgewater to Elgin in one day and enjoying the solitude and freedom that comes from having the windows down and the music up, seeing the smiling faces of my long lost housemates as I return home again

From A Traveling Expert

So I do a lot of traveling these days. Most of it is for work, but not all of it is. Until I began BVS I hadn't done very much traveling by plane or train, it had mostly been by car. Now flying has become almost like second nature. I am also extremely fond of taking the train whenever I can, it's by far one of my favorite ways to travel and I go by train whenever I can!

The other week I had a new experience with traveling. I used the Greyhound Bus service when I was in Oregon. It was one of the only ways to get where I needed to go and even then I wasn't quite there yet! Let me just tell you that whenever I travel I am always meeting and observing the people around me. There are some interesting characters around there. I'm sure other people think the same thing when they see me!

I've been thinking of two particular stories lately that I want to share. The first one comes from when I was traveling to Camp Myrtlewood in the southwestern corner of Oregon. I flew into the town of Eugene and then needed to get to the Greyhound station downtown to go south. I hadn't really thought about how I was going to get from the airport to the bus station but I figured that there would possibly be some kind of public transportation available. On board the plane I began talking to the gentleman sitting next to me, his name is Bob, and I came to find out that he's lived in Eugene for almost 40 years or so. I thought to myself, well maybe he'll know how I can get to where I need to go. So I asked him. Bob paused and thought about it for a little bit and then said that he wasn't sure, but he thought there might be a bus downtown or something like that. Then after another pause he said that he was getting picked up but he thought that they would be able to drop me off. After getting off the plane Bob was there waiting for me and together we walked to the baggage claim. He left me at the information desk while he went to get in a smoke outside. The woman at the information desk said that there was no public transportation to the bus station but that I could rent a car if I needed to and that there were shuttles available to the hotels nearby. Neither of which were helpful. I don't think she quite understood what I was asking for. So I went and found Bob outside and said that if he thought his friend could give me a lift, I'd gladly accept. Keep in mind that I don't typically do this!! So Bob and I sat and talked while we waited. He works for a saw mill and I shared with him about BVS and what it is and what it's like to be a volunteer. Mike came rollin up in his black Nissan truck and Bob went up and asked if they could drop me off at the bus station. Mike peered over Bob's shoulder at me and said sure. So I threw my stuff into the back and Bob sqeezed himself into the back seat somehow and off we went. I made it safely to the Greyhound station thanks to these two guys!

This experience reminded me of the time three years ago when I was headed down to Pensacola Florida for several weeks of disaster response. I was flying down there through the Atlanta airport. We left Atlanta and ended up circling around Pensacola unable to land so we were sent back to Atlanta. Once we were there we were given new tickets for the following morning and vouchers for hotels in the area. These vouchers were for hotel rooms at a discounted price. I wasn't really in the mood to pay the full amount and as I walked away from the kiosk I saw a woman that I had been talking to in line. I thought for a minute and then went up to her and asked if she was willing to split the cost of a room for the night. I told her that this wasn't something that I typically did, asking strangers to do something like this. I wasn't really up for spending $50 on a room, but I was more okay with $25. So Faith and I decided to split the cost of the hotel room. We talked about how this wasn't something that either of us had ever really done. But you know, it worked out really well. And it was nice to not have to spend New Years Eve in the Atlanta airport.

It's amazing to me how many stories come out of traveling. Some good ones like these and other not so good experiences. But I like to remember these because they tell of all the good people that are out there in the world and how our lives are so inter connected.

Doing Things for Me

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about who I am as an individual and what that means. As a result I've been spending a lot more time talking about 'me' than I'm used to. I've been extremely focused lately (for the past several years really) on paying attention and listening to others and asking them guiding questions and putting all my energies on them.

But lately I've been taking more time for myself. Doing things that I want to do. For me. Call it selfish if you'd like. I prefer to think of it as healthy. I haven't taken the time lately to care for myself. To do the things I find relaxing.

For the last several months, since I returned from Nigeria, I have found myself unable and uninterested in photography. Something that I have enjoyed doing these past several years I wasn't able to do. So I began to wonder and think about why that was. I believe I haven't been taking care of my own well being.

So I have been taking the time to walk through the woods. To spend time wandering and being. To stop for an hour and pick green beans because I can. To make it so that I'm home and available on Frisbee days. To travel down a quiet river with a good friend and a couple youngsters on a canoe. To appreciate sunsets on both the plains and over the mountain tops. To sit and be. To talk more openly with friends. To be.

It isn't easy. I often times find myself totally lost in what's going on with work or trying to see everybody under the sun when I'm home. It's a matter of looking for those small things in life that bring joy to our lives. Things that recenter our lives and bring us closer to the small positives things in our lives that occur every day.

The Setting Sun

So this is out of order. But I wanted to get it down quick before I forget! I'm back in Elgin for just a few days between my west coast adventure and my east coast adventure. I got in Sunday night and I leave early tomorrow morning.

Today I spent the afternoon and evening at Camp Emmaus, the Church of the Brethren camp about an hour and a half away from Elgin. It was a great visit. I got to talk about BVS. I got to see my youth from Highland Avenue. I got to be at camp. I got to eat mountain pies (mini pizza's) for dinner (although here in Elgin there are no mountains so they call them pie iron dinners). I got to swim and relax a bit and catch up with a good friend. Basically it was a great visit.

But what I wanted to write about specifically was the ride home. I was driving directly east, so in the opposite direction of the setting sun. The sunlight that was cast on the wide open corn fields that are still in the early stages of growth simply took my breath away.

I think I was paying attention to this because of a conversation that I had with Tyler, one of our volunteers who is serving in the hills and valleys in Oregon. I feel more at home in the mountains and valleys and Tyler was saying how he misses seeing the sunset over the wide open fields and plains of the mid-west. He's right, there is a certain beauty to being able to watch the sun set over the horizon. Everyone should experience it sometime.

Down to the Chapel to Pray

Several weeks ago I was in the chapel for a time of prayer with the BVS Team. We try to take time every morning for prayer. We'll read a scripture and have five minutes of silence and conclude with a prayer. It was during one of these sessions that I found myself paying particular interest in the walls that create the chapel at the Church of the Brethren offices. It is an amazing design. One that I have never seen before. And it's probably one of my favorite places to worship that isn't outside.

You walk into an oblong room where the walls are made entirely out of varying kinds of stone. Sporadically placed throughout the wall are a dozen or more miniature stained glass windows. It is absolutely beautiful. The colors in the stained glass are so incredibly rich and bright and amazing. I could look at them for hours. Then in the front of the chapel, there is a hanging wooden cross underneath a skylight. It's a great space.

So this morning during prayer time I focused almost the entire time on the space I was in. And wondered how it came to be. I usually have a very short attention span. My mind tends to wander a great deal during those five minutes. Everything from work I need to do, to friends I'd like to be in touch with or what I'm planning on eating for lunch. Not exactly a prayerful time. But this morning I couldn't stop thinking about these walls, these stone, the glass. The time and energy and sweat that would have gone into putting each stone into place and slowly building the wall. They tell me that the men who constructed the walls learned their trade in Sicily, Italy. You know that many hands were used in the making of something as exquisite as this room.

I am incredibly thankful for those who worked so hard to create our chapel at the offices. For me it truly is a place of worship. When the room is filled with harmonizing voices during a Wednesday morning chapel service. Or when I need a few minutes alone to collect my thoughts it is a great place to go.

Many mornings I find myself not wanting to go pray, but then I get there and it's good. Great even. I often wonder why this is and I don't know the answer to that. But I am glad it's something that we do together as a team. In a place where we each work every day to minister to others, it's very important to take the time to minister to ourselves and support one another. Very important indeed.

Chiquitita

This is a song by Abba that I have had in my head for awhile. So I thought I'd stick the lyrics up here. Here is a link if you want to hear the song itself:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poxthfG109o

Chiquitita, tell me whats wrong
You're enchained by your own sorrow
In your eyes there is no hope for tomorrow
How I hate to see you like this
There is no way you can deny it
I can see that you're oh so sad, so quiet

Chiquitita, tell me the truth
I'm a shoulder you can cry on
Your best friend, I'm the one you must rely on
You were always sure of yourself
Now I see you've broken a feather
I hope we can patch it up together

Chiquitita, you and I know
How the heartaches come and they go and the scars they're leaving
You'll be dancing once again and the pain will end
You will have no time for grieving
Chiquitita, you and I cry
But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you
Let me hear you sing once more like you did before
Sing a new song, chiquitita
Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, chiquitita

So the walls came tumbling down
And your loves a blown out candle
All is gone and it seems too hard to handle
Chiquitita, tell me the truth
There is no way you can deny it
I see that you're oh so sad, so quiet

Chiquitita, you and I know
How the heartaches come and they go and the scars they're leaving
You'll be dancing once again and the pain will end
You will have no time for grieving
Chiquitita, you and I cry
But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you
Let me hear you sing once more like you did before
Sing a new song, chiquitita
Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, chiquitita
Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, chiquitita

Lost

There are so many things that I find myelf wanting to write about, but sometimes I find it hard to sit down and remember what it is that I want to say! It's like my thoughts end up being lost in my own head!

Like the fact that it's finally spring here. Everything is finally growing. The grass is a rich green and the trees have leaves on them again. The flowers are budding and everything is so incredibly beautiful. One of my favorite things to do is to be outside. Whether I'm taking a walk or playing Frisbee or football (soccer). All I want to do is be outside! Many people have a favorite season, whether it's spring, summer, fall or winter, but for me I love them all. I love the heat of summer, the beautiful colors of the trees in the fall, the snow and cold of winter, and then all the new life in the spring. It makes me smile just to think about it.

Then there's the fact that I sprained my thumb last week and couldn't play frisbee for a few days. So what did I do instead? I went to the park and got in on a game of pick up soccer. The guys that play at the park all speak Spanish, so I have no idea what it is they are saying, which is okay with me. There are always games of soccer going on in the afternoon/evenings at Wing Park that involve dozens of people just playing for the fun of it. It's pretty awesome really. And they're nice enough to humor me by letting me play. I have realized though that the muscles you use playing frisbee and the muscles you use playing soccer are VERY different. I could barely move last week I was so sore! But it doesn't stop me from going back.

Of course there are always more stories to tell from my time in Nigeria. And those will come. I have to tell of the woman I danced with at a fellowship dinner with the Garkida EYN #2 congregation. And the dog-like female turkey and the crazy male turkey who was, well crazy. And the fact that all I wanted to eat when I returned to the states was fruit and hard boiled eggs. I could go on and on. Not to worry, I will elaborate more soon!

I have so many thoughts in my head that it's hard to get it all down. But I am working on it.

I am Bahago

While in Nigeria I often heard the term "bahago" used when I was around, especially if I was eating or writing something down. Bahago mean "left-handed" in Hausa, and since I am left handed, it is only fitting that they would call me this. Being left handed was the identity that I received during my weeks there. When it came to meals I would try to eat using my right hand but I found it to be a slow going process. This wouldn't have been a huge deal except for the fact that when it was time for the children to go through the line and get food there would be no plates or spoons/forks left so they would go and gather the empty plates from those who had been served first. And that was us, the bature, the guests of honor. In other words, I needed to eat at a normal pace, if not quickly, so the children could take and use my plate. So, I used my left hand.

The girls that I played with most every day that we spent at the EYN loved that I was bahago. One of our last mornings together they came while I was on my porch writing and they wanted to write their names in my journal. After they did that, they wanted to see me write my name. As soon as I began writing I heard laughter and giggling and excited chatter. I was able to recognise that they were calling me bahago. I just laughed and smiled and kept on writing.

Our last evening in Kwarhi, EYN hosted a farewell and thank you dinner for us. After the meal I was asked for my mailing address by one of the gentlemen sitting near me. He knew me not by name, but as the Young and Strong Girl. Later that evening he came visiting at my house to greet me and give me a small gift of groundnuts (peanuts). More importantly he wanted to introduce me to his daughter, whom he introduced as being bahago, like me.

I get the feeling that not many in this culture are left handed. My guess is that if a child begins to show left handed tendencies that they are taught otherwise. For many years that is how it was here in the States as well. My grandmother should have been left handed, but she wasn't allowed. So to meet this child, although briefly, was a very special moment for me. There was also a young man working with us some days who was clearly left handed while he was doing the work. But when it came to meals he ate with his right hand.

In many cultures, the left hand is dirty. It is the hand that is used to clean up after oneself. It is of great offense if you extend your left hand to another person in greeting, or offer something using your left hand. It isn't done. In some senses, the fact that we live in a right handed world is beneficial. At the same time I feel as though people who are right handed don't think about these things. Those of us who are left handed have had to make many adjustments. Honestly I probably don't even know how many adjustments I've made to this right handed world. But I've hade to. And I'm okay with that.

I am bahago. It is a part of who I am. And I love it.

Memorable Moments in Ultimate

I love playing Frisbee. And I might even say that I'm actually pretty good at it. But there are two things I don't do. Or don't do often. And that is jump and dive for the disc. I'm somewhat vertically challenged. And I just don't dive. I will say though that jumping does happen more often than diving.

But this week I had two amazing dives! It really was just that. Amazing. For the first dive I just went for it. One of my teammates threw the disc a bit off and I knew I needed to get it! So I did! And in the process I took one of the guys down with me. Oh well. He was fine.

The second dive was even better. It rained most of the day today. So the field was somewhat wet and there were puddles in various areas. I went to catch the disc and it skimmed off the tops of my fingertips. In the following split second, I realized that it was totally reachable. So I dove for it. And ended up in a HUGE mud puddle. I was covered head to toe. But I got the disc! And it felt great!

So this is me documenting my first two notable dives AND catches. Yay for Ultimate!

Being Directed

I am still meeting with a spiritual director once every three or four weeks or so. Depending on my travel schedule and his availability when I'm home. Anyways, we met earlier this week and it's always such a relaxing and refreshing time. In the beginning of the meeting I never know quite what to say or how to start. It's hard to just launch into the thoughts that are swirling around in my head. So I usually find myself just sitting there and looking at David waiting for him to ask me a question. Which he will. And then an hour and a half later I find myself with nothing more to say. It's always amazing to me how this happens. I just open up and the words begin to flow out of me. Often times my mouth isn't able to keep up with my thoughts. But things always come out. Things that I didn't even know I was thinking about. Realizations are made. Questions are asked. It's a very healthy thing for me to be doing. And I consider myself extremely lucky and blessed to have found David. After our meetings I feel light and free yet challenged and motivated. It's great.

Swinging

So I found myself with a free hour this afternoon. And I asked myself what I should do with it. Should I take a nap? Or should I take a walk? Keep in mind that it is an absolutely gorgeous day outside. The moment I remembered that there was a park just down the street I knew what I had to do.

I went for a walk. When I set out I had hopes for a swing set to be somewhere along the path. I was not let down!

I walked into the park, crossed over a bridge and started down what looked to be a brand new sidewalk. Then the sidewalk ended but I just continued on around the edge of the water. I made it around to the other side and that was when I saw the swings. They were beckoning me to come to to them. And so I did.

There weren't other people in the park. If I was back in Elgin at Wing Park there would be dozens and dozens of people everywhere playing soccer or basketball or tennis, children would be playing on the playground with parents nearby talking with friends. You'd hear kids screaming as they chased one another, or laughter from the games.

But not in this park. It was silent. I could hear the birds. The water hitting the stone edge. I crossed a large empty field towards the swing set. There was no one else around me. After I rolled up my pant legs so that I could bask in the sun I sat down and began pumping my legs.

Back and forth. Lean in and lean back. I can't even remember the last time I sat down just to swing. I found myself going higher and higher. Focusing on the squeakiness of metal on metal. I just wanted to touch the bright blue sky.

I couldn't keep on going forever so I decided it was time to stop and continue on my walk. Yes, walking was a much better idea than taking a nap.

Youth, Camp, and the Environment

So this weekend I have found myself in McPherson, Kansas for a Regional Youth Conference. And I found myself spending time with the youth in the Western Plains District, leading them in camp games and learning/remembering about environmental issues.

These happen to be three things that I like a lot. Youth. Camp. The Environment.

Youth happen to be a passion of mine. I could see myself working with youth full time in the future.

I've spent several summers at camp and I know lots of crazy camp games. And now thanks to this weekend I know more!

Some of you may not know this, but I was an environmental science major at college. I forget how much I really enjoy the concepts and ideas and various aspects of environmental awareness until I participate in weekends like this.

So this has been a good weekend for me. Maybe all these realizations are something that I should be paying attention to. Maybe I will...

Your Story, My Story

What is your story? What is my story? What is the story of the person in the room with you right now? What is the story of your co-workers? What about the people you pass on the street every day?

I just started reading What is the What? The story of one of the Lost Boys of Sudan. Even after the first few pages I started asking myself these questions. We each have a story, our story. But how often do we let our own story be heard? Or take the time to hear where other people have come from?

If someone asked you right now, this very moment, to tell your own story what would you say? How would you begin? Would it flow together and make sense, or would it be fragmented and out of order?

One night after dinner and a long hard day of work, one of the young Nigerian workcampers asked for the elders among us to share stories from their childhood. Ralph, a 76 year old gentleman who grew up in Nigeria shared several humorous stories. Something about a spitting cobra in the outhouse... Then this young man, Isau, shared his story. His entire story. I wish I had been able to catch more than I did. He was very passionate in his sharing. Then my dear friend Anthony shared his story. It was one of hope and happiness and trust and love and faith and determinaton. His story flowed and it left me wanting to hear more and to learn more about this man and his family.

It seemed to me that the men and women that I was able to work with and get to know, knew three things. They knew:

1. Who they were.
2. Where they came from.
3. Where they are going.

Now, while that may be a very generalized statement, I find that it is not the case for me. I struggle everyday with who I am. I struggle everyday with where I am going from here. I have no idea. Sometimes I think that maybe I know. But I find myself becoming almost paralyzed from all the options and opportunities that I have.

But each and every day I find myself thinking about my own story. And how, when asked, I might tell it.

Care Free Me

Last night I was hanging out with the girls. Nothing new. Nothing out of the usual. But at the same time something was different. I was talking. And laughing. And acting somewhat crazy. Some might even think that something had been put in my water.

The last few months have been stressful. And emotional. Many highs. Many lows. Lots of thinking has been involved. I dare to say that opinions have been formed. Conclusions reached. Goals made.

There are many questions still to be asked. Many thoughts to process. Experiences to recall.
My future is unclear. Unknown.

But for one night. I was care free. And happy. Weights were lifted from my shoulders. I could breathe. And laugh. And listen. And smile. And be in the moment.

And it was good. No, it was great.

Letting God Bless Me

Tonight many from the HACoB gathered together for a time of remembering and thinking about what Christ would have gone through on this night before His death. It's a hard thing to think about. And strangely enough I'm not sure if I ever have in great detail before. What this night meant to Him and those he spent it with. To have taken the time to wash the disciples feet and break bread with them. Knowing what was to come the next day. I think for myself, I tend to look past the events that lead up to Easter and focus on the hope and the renewal of life and the gift that Easter brings to us. But without the events leading up to Easter Sunday, there would be no reason to celebrate. It would simply be another day in the year. It's good to be reminded of what it is that Christ did for us. 

I find myself growing more and more each and every day. I just thought to myself, "is this really me talking?" Sometimes I have to wonder where these thoughts come from. But then I think to myself, I'm just getting older and maturing and starting to really think things through. Instead of simply going through the motions, I'm beginning to think about why I am going through the motions. And this is true in many senses of my life, not just with my faith.

It could very well be that this little girl is growing up. Finding my place in this world. One question that I have been asking myself over and over again, is wondering if the decisions I make are based on what I want or if it's what God wants of me. I've been talking with several people about this and some wisdom has been shared. What if what I want and what God wants of me are one and the same? Maybe God just wants me to step up and do what I really want and allow God to bless that. Definitely something to consider. 

For now, Happy Easter.

Blessings

washing the feet of a young girl and hearing her giggle because it tickles, always thinking of friends in other parts of the world and constantly transposing time, Emmee and Wasaka, the power of positive thought, reading to understand and not to simply enjoy, being in one place longer than a few days, being around passionate people, alone time, bright smiles and contagious laughter, my wonderful housemates, the hope of Spring, blue skies and green grass,  having friends and family to miss, ability to question and wonder, choice, knowledge that maybe what I want and what God wants for me could very well be one and the same...

A Baby Dedication and a Special Preacher

On our last Sunday in Nigeria we worshiped at the EYN Utako church in Abuja. There were several very special things about worship that morning. Firstly there was a baby dedication that took place. It was very special to see this child presented to the congregation and dedicated to God. Throughout the trip it was sometimes hard to see the similarities between EYN and the Church of the Brethren here in the states. While the roots of EYN are in fact Brethren, it isn’t always apparent. Here was a time when it was apparent. To see this small child dedicated and to be part of the group that accepted the child into the church was a very special moment for me. We rose up as one people, as Nigerians and Americans and Europeans, and to accept our part in this child’s life. In my case, through prayer. It gave me chills. God was moving in that moment. Secondly that morning the sermon was delivered by one of our leaders, Reverend Anthony Ndamsai. I grew to love this man and his family during my short time in the country. To have had the opportunity to hear him preach is priceless. And for me especially because the text he used was from Esther 4. A few days before I knew he was going to be preaching he showed me something he had written based on this text from Esther. In fact he had written it with me in mind. It was very humbling to read and to realize that God was speaking to me through Anthony. In many ways I feel as though I am being called to go back to Nigeria and this message from Anthony is part of that calling.

Two Host Family Experiences

I was able to stay two nights in the homes of families of the congregations we visited on the weekends. The first night was in the small village of Lassa. We arrived for a fellowship meal with the EYN #1 Lassa congregation and afterwards we were told to wait outside and someone would come and take us to their home for the night. I was the first person to leave the church. I guess you could say that I was snatched up immediately! I went with a woman named Hajara and the first thing she asked me was, “can you trek?” and I said, “yes!” So we trekked (walked) for about 20 minutes to get to her one room home that was on the outskirts of town. Everything she needed was in this single room. There were two beds, a television (although there was no electricity to use it), cooking items in the corner (the kitchen itself was on the front porch). We went in (after leaving our shoes outside the door) and started getting ready for bed. Hajara offered me a wrapper (a piece of cloth to wrap around myself) to wear to take my bath that I accepted and I put on. Then she walked me out to the ‘toilet/shower’ which is a small space with cinderblock walls, no roof with a hole in the middle. I was able to wash up under the stars that night and I loved it. I felt free. We then spent some time talking with one another about our families and our lives. Hajara is a mother of four and her husband lives in Lagos with the children while she is working in Lassa, many hours away. She hasn’t seen her family in two years but is hoping to spend two months with them soon. We then looked at her photos that she has of her family and friends and colleagues. I could tell that those people were very important to her. In the morning, Hajara heated up some water so that I could take a warm tub bath, which consisted of me dumping water on myself and it felt so wonderful to do just that! We then trekked back to the church greeting many people as we went because I’m sure they were somewhat surprised to see a young white woman walking down the street!

My next experience of staying with a family was extremely different but at the same time similar. It was different in that I stayed with the family of John and Esther and their daughter Awa who is my age. We left the EYN Polo church in Maidugari in a Mercedes and drove across the city to their home. We drove through the gate at their home and inside I saw a large, ranch style house. We sat outside and enjoyed the last of the day light before the generator was turned on for the evening. I was immediately ushered to Awa’s room, where the TV had already been turned on. If people had televisions, they were always on to show us as a way to show wealth to those who visit. I waited there while Awa heated up some water so that I could take a tub bath before going to bed. After cleaning up I went out to the living room and we sat down together for a late meal before sitting down to watch CNN. John and Esther both had the opportunity to study in the states in Kansas. John attended McPherson College and Esther went to a nearby university. They have six children, five boys and a girl. They were incredibly warm and welcoming to me. Now I can say that I have a home in Maidugari.

Naming Ceremony

We were able to spend one afternoon attending a baby naming ceremony in the nearby village of Uba. When a child is born in Nigeria, a naming ceremony takes place a week later. This child’s name is Jacob. The difference between Jacob and the other children is that both of his parents are HIV positive. While Jacob is not infected himself, he is very much so affected by this disease. His mother (whose name unfortunately I forget), had lost all sense of hope before she began attending a HIV support group that the EYN HIV/AIDS Program sponsors. She was then able to receive medical help as well as find a supportive group to share with. It was through the HIV/AIDS Program that she was introduced to her husband, who is also HIV positive. We were able to take some time immediately following the ceremony to talk with the couple as well as several women from the support group. They seem to be a happy, healthy couple and have been incredibly blessed by their newborn Jacob. (Note:EYN has decided to take a stand and do what they can to help the fight against HID/AIDS.)

The Small Things

So here are some of the small things that made me happy today:

dark rain clouds mixed with the bright blue sky, a mid-afternoon cold pizza snack, the joy that comes with picking out small gifts to send to friends far away, rainbows, watching Beth play with her new stuffed monkey, eating good cookies from Jewel, having all the housemates home for the first time in months, receiving an encouraging and delightful e-mail from my NYC small group leader

Dear Strong Girl

Dear Strong Girl,
There is a saying that goes, “he who loves your child, loves you.” We thank you for taking your time to humbly play with the kids which showed that you really felt free around. Thanks for spending your energy working like a man. My family decided to give you just a little groundnuts. God bless you. Yours in Christ, Reverend Bitrus. EYN General Evangelism
Coordinator.
This is a note that I received my last night at the EYN headquarters in Kwarhi while participating in a four week workcamp to Nigeria. It was not until this night that I met Reverend Bitrus. He sat close to me at the special thank you dinner that EYN held for the workcamp group. While he did not know me by name, he did know me as the young and strong girl. After I accepted the gift and read the note I realized that I was not ready for all of this to end.
Not ready to leave the children of the primary school that I played with every day. Not ready to leave the young girls who came up to me at church and shyly asked if we could be friends. Not ready to leave the in depth conversations on faith and the church, life and the world. Not ready to leave the people whom I had come to know and love.
My short time in Nigeria has left me questioning and wondering about many things and at the same time has left me wanting more. Wanting to listen carefully to what God is calling me to do. What God is calling us as a church to be. I have been back in the states for almost three weeks and not a second goes by that am not thinking about my friends, my brothers and sisters, in Nigeria. God brought us together for a reason. To work together, fellowship together, learn together and grow together. Relationships were created that know no boundaries. This is what I believe God calls us to do each and every day.

The Welcoming

So this morning as I was trying not to wake up I was dreaming that I was back in Nigeria at a church service. It was the part of worship where the ZME Women's Fellowship begins singing a welcoming/greeting song and the rest of the congregation joins in. Everyone is on their feel dancing and singing and moving around greeting one another with a handshake.

This was my favorite part of the worship service. When everyone is singing and smiling and laughing and shaking hands and praising God for one another. Words cannot explain the wonderful feelings and emotions that come with this simple act of greeting one another.

So I dreamed of that this morning and then later in the day I was able to attend chapel at Bridgewater College. There was a time to greet one another. Again it was a time where I was able to greet and hug and smile at my college friends and family. This was also a special time. Only different. Different is good.