It's important to heal (what was supposed to be June-July newsletter).

I am finally taking time to sit down and write about June and July and send it off in newsletter-ish fashion. But, this won't be a newsletter, really, or at least one in newsletter-ish fashion. In fact, I had intended to send handwritten copies of my newsletter, but I started it with Publisher, and now I do not have access to that program, so I'm starting over, and I'm starting over where I'm at.

I think on my Facebook I had mentioned briefly about how I had to return to North Carolina. I had to leave Mission Year early. And it was so sudden, too. I was in shock. My heart sunk. I had just a few days to pack my bags and to say goodbye to as much people as I could. It was a stressful, anxiety ridden time. It was hard not being able to say goodbye as well as I wanted to. It was just plain hard having to say goodbye so soon to the city that I have come to love.

I feel like I haven't had time to really process my time with Mission Year. In fact, I'm not really sure what processing my Mission Year would look like for me. The Mission Year lifestyle isn't something that I intend to compartmentalize and it's fair to say that the values of the program are ones that I intend to keep. This idea of "processing", much of my attempts at it feels like pushing myself to have this profound AHA! moment. But, I'm not having any of those really. The only reflection that I've been experiencing lately has been similar to that which I've been realizing more and more -- it's important to be whole, it's important to be healed, it's important to allow oneself to be loved, it's important to know what you need and to know that you're being taken care of, in order to serve Jesus and others well.

I had to leave early because there are many battles that I'm experiencing that I've left untouched. There's a lot of wounds that, for me, for the longest time, I've seen as "not so much of a big deal". For the most part, it was easy for me to dismiss these wounds, and to look at myself and say "there are worse things, besides, it's not like what you're going through is affecting anyone". But that's a lie. My struggle with panic and anxiety, it does affect others -- it affects the ones I love and my capacity to trust-- and it is important to address because it's hindering my pursuit of the dreams I have. It also affects how well I can receive love and give it.

So, I'm seeing that it's not helpful to dismiss the help I need. G-d wants me to heal and so do my companions that served alongside me in Philly. I have been able to heal and find hope in lots of ways this year, but they thought best that I take time and find the help that I need, and I want that, too. I think, in some sense, we will always have seasons in which we are healing our wounds, but that doesn't mean that we can't or don't serve. But, I think we follow Jesus and serve each other in order to experience revelations of G-d's love. And I think we heal in order to experience the same.

I want to be open to what this season of life has for me. I want to respond to the work that G-d wants to do in me.

I also wanted to thank you again for reading about my experience and writing to me if you have. It's been great! I'm thankful for the good thoughts, the prayers and kind gestures. I am thankful for those of you who have demonstrated your enthusiasm and thoughtfulness during that season. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I wanted to leave you with a few photos I also got developed recently. I wish that I had taken more and didn't lose so many (my computer died this year). But, please enjoy!

Micheal reading on the porch.

Some of the kids!!

The wonderful Reedland Street.

My neighbor, Nina.

My wonderful supervisor, Kathleen.

And peace be with you,
Love, Rachel

this is where I share my insights on vulnerability, about the healing power of embracing pain (and how i'm not much of a hero I thought I was).

“I am struck by how sharing our weakness and difficulties is more nourishing to others than sharing our qualities and successes.”  -- Jean Vanier

"The wound is the place where the Light enters you." -- Rumi

The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." -- Psalm 34:18

//

I haven't been doing too hot over here in Philadelphia land. 

In the past month, I've had about two meltdowns at work. What I mean by these meltdowns is this: imagine a Rachel throwing her glasses unto the floor and crumbling into tears behind a door or into the corner of a stairwell at a health center. Yup. That's what a smother of my Mission Year looks like. It's not pretty or glamorous or heroic at all. It sucks, because I didn't want to feel so weak, so out of control, so much like a "failure" upon arriving here. "Why can't I be stronger, more put together?" I thought. I wrestled with my weakness and pain the first few months of Mission Year. Now, I've come a little more to terms with the fact that I'm hurting and often have difficulty refraining from expressing it. Now, I see that it's not all together a bad thing to experience pain.

I don't write this to induce some sort of pity or to make you think that I'm suffering over here. I'm doing quite well actually.  In fact, I'm growing a lot here. My 9-ish months here has led me into a greater revelation of what it means to love G-d and neighbor, and for that I'm glad. I'm experiencing what it means to have joy and hope.

Even if I have started to learn to embrace my weakness, I don't like having these moments of weakness and vulnerability. Vulnerability for me (and probably for you, too) doesn't always look like crumbling to pieces at your volunteer site. Often, it can occur by say.... asking for help from someone I live with (so uncomfortable!) or telling someone you care about them. Vulnerability is hard, but the beautiful thing about being able to be vulnerable is that it gives an opportunity for people to love and be loved.

"Vulnerability is the birthplace of joy." -- Brene Brown

Vulnerability is is IS the birthplace of joy, I've learned, because it's the place where we allow folks to love on us and allow ourselves to have the courage to love others well, even if we don't do it perfectly. It's the place where we can heal. It's the place where G-d's love meets us.

What's soooo beautiful about the story about me crumbling into the floor in tears of anxiety and sadness is that it doesn't end there... 

In opening the door for others to see my pain, I was able to provided a space to heal. My supervisor Kathleen listened to, embraced my pain, held my face in her hands and told me that I was cared for -- even in that painful place. There's something incredibly healing and transformative about an experience like that and I'm inspired to be present and care for others in their weak places.

Despite all this beauty resulting from embracing our weak places, the beauty doesn't take away the fact that vulnerability is hard. I imagine that there are people around me who might be hurting and I might not even know: my housemates, my neighbors, co-workers. It's hard to cry out. Some have given up on their pain. We risk rejection, and it's easier to hide the messiness.

But, I want to encourage you to be that person who will listen and embrace someone who finds the courage to trust you with their story, the cries of their heart. I also want to encourage you to find someone that you can confide in when you are hurting. It can be super messy, but I have confidence that this is where healing can begin. May we have joy in recognizing that moments in which we are weak are somehow woven into the healing of the world. We don't have to bare our pain alone.

//

I have so much thoughts... ALL THE THOUGHTS! on this subject. But I'll leave you here, and if you want to read more about pain and vulnerability, you should visit Kathy Escobar's blog. She's participating in writing about pain this month. Check it out by clicking here. I also recommend meditating on the Beatitudes. If you believe in my ministry here (and my journey in learning how to do ministry) in Philadelphia please considering donating to my Mission Year at missionyear.org/donate.

Peace be with thee,
Rachel