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

5.7.2013

“In a word, live together in the forgiveness of your sins, for without it no human fellowship .... can survive. Don’t insist on your rights, don’t blame each other, don’t judge or condemn each other, don’t find fault with each other, but accept each other as you are, and forgive each other every day from the bottom of your hearts…” -- Dietrich Bonhoeffer

this is about the possibility that love might be at the center of the universe and that that love is worth trusting in.

I've been experiencing a lot of ups and downs the past few months. Mission Year has been tough, especially living within community. More than volunteering at Esperanza. More than reaching out to the community. These past few months have been causing me to grow up and out of old dead places in which I've spent so many years lying in.

There are people saying that they see my growth.

They're proud of me. The word left their lips. "Proud."

It's hard for me to see that growth most days. My heart has been breaking a lot. It's also been crawling closer to the truth -- the ridiculous and often ridiculous but life-giving truth -- the truth being that, i, AM beloved. Somehow.

My friend, Joel, asked me one time, if the search for transcendent love affected much of my life. And, I thought to myself "Of course." "OF COURSE DUH" I think, it does for most of us. Maybe all of us.

///

I've been thinking how important it is to remember that Jesus is a person, not an idea to be debated, a mantra to be recited, an ideal to live up to, or a figure stuck behind Mexican candles and rosaries... but a person. He's a someone I can relate to. There was a man who lived and breathed one day and wandered obscure towns upon the earth, trying to love people the way G-d, the Creator of the Universe, intended for all of us to be loved. Experiencing that love for myself and being able to imagine, believe and then sit in his love is changing me. It's causing me to hope for better things.

My heart is melting despite her constant breaking lately.

When it breaks, it threatens to freeze back up again, into the jadedness, conforming to the same irritable "you're stupid, Rachel!" and "nobody cares about your shit, Rachel" that I'm used to hearing in my brain.

When I think about the love that man embodied in light of my life... when I think about the way he would respond if he were in my shoes... when I remember the promises that I will never be left by him... when I see the way the people who love him light up and love in their broken sincerity and honesty....

my heart melts.

///

Sometimes, I look back at the past eight months and I notice that it wasn't what I thought it would be. I thought that by doing Mission Year, I would know what to do with my life. I thought I would narrow down the thousand passions raging in my heart down to one or two that I could allow to sail my life. I thought I would finally know what to go to school for. I thought I would find my place and my people.

Maybe I'm a little closer to those things now, but I think more than anything, I'm learning about who I want to be. I don't want to be sad anymore.
It's okay to be sad. It's okay to cry.
But, I don't want to lie in a pool of my tears.
If any tears, I wish that they could water the world around me and cause something beautiful to grow in my life. I don't want a stagnant, un-moving bucket of tears in my life anymore. I don't want to drag around in the weight of my sorrows.

Life, life that is really life, is worth fighting for.
Love, love that is really love is worth trusting in.

I don't understand much of the mysteries of the universe (maybe multiverse!), and neither do I intend to know them all. I think the biggest mystery of all is there might be Love at the center of this thing at all. I think that's what that man suffered to prove.

That G-d is love.

///

P.S. I'm sorry that I've been so silent lately. There are many of you that I have wished to write or to call or see. I've been the opposite of brave and the opposite of encouraged a lot of times, but, I hope that you will forgive me, and that maybe, we can engage in having some sort of relationship again.

April Newsletter -- A Peek Into April

Hey everyone!

I just put out my newsletter for the month of April. Feel free to check it out by clicking the photo!

Grace and peace to you,

Rachel

4.16.13

One of my housemates and I reflected on Bonhoeffer's statement, that those who love more their ideal of Christian community more than their actual community will be destroyers of community, despite our best intentions.

It's funny because, before you enter an "intentional community" of sorts, you come across such a statement as his, and you're like "well... yeah. That makes sense. I would NEVER do that." But when you find yourself there, you start to see how real his warning is:

People aren't always going to want to give themselves away. Despite our desire to be "intentional", we're going to find ourselves afraid, bitter, tired. As for me, I struggle with owning myself. And how can we give ourselves, if we can't own ourselves?

Last night, too, you made a remark that as a community you had thought we had "arrived". But, sweetie, we've only been together for 8 months and this brokenness that you and I and all of us are experiencing... it is only the beginning of us really bonding and being united. It's the real US, in our reality, not just who we pretend to be, or who we want to be, that will draw us closer to each other.

We are broken, yet beloved being in Christ. Trust this truth and we'll find the strength to grow. As Christ has told us, people will know we are his disciples by how we love one another.

Let's grow things in the city this year!

This year I am planning on planting and growing some plants in our backyard on Reedland Street. Maybe, there will be some on the porch. This is the first time I will be planting a garden on my own (and maybe with some help from my housemates). Here's a little list of some of the plant life to expect:

- calendula (a gift from a friend)
- swiss chard
- tomatoes (of course!)
- lavender (for sweet smells and tea and maybe homemade ice cream)
- pinto beans (for fun-zies)
- a plant that can repel mosquitoes (whatever that turns out to be)
- sweet pea
- sunflowers

It's still considered winter here, so, I am beginning growing things inside our home.

Growing things is really important to me. Plant life and nature are very important to me because it is beautiful and offers so much. It is where I find rest. It is something in which communicates to me the tender and caring voice of the Father who created and loves the universe and you and me and the people and animals we can't see, because they might live far away. I am moved by how so much of Scripture paints stories and ideas with images from nature and agriculture, including the parables of Jesus.

Because... I love chickens. And I don't own this photo.

I was particularly encouraged this weekend being able to hear from a group at the Justice Conference about care for the creation. They were pitched right next to our Mission Year booth for about half the conference. They are called A Rocha, and one of the international representatives of this group, Peter Harris,  shared about why Christians should care about the environment  It seems like often, Christians can be the last people to care about the environment especially us in the United States.

CALENDULA. It's edible. And medicinal. And, I don't own this photo.

However, we should be encouraged to care about the earth, we should be among a group of people who care the most, because G-d made it all and saw that it was good, even before human beings came into the scene. We were given the mandate to look over the Creation, because it is good and it shows that G-d is good. And so, I want to look over G-d's creation, because I love Him, I love the One revealed through Jesus, and the world that He made. G-d provides so much nourishment of mind and body through his creation. Maybe, we have a hard time seeing that in the United States, because our American life style has an indirect relationship with the earth as opposed to those groups of people who depend on the rivers, the animals, the plants; they see and interact with it all directly everyday. Maybe with the abundance of shopping malls and factories, we forget that that which we have has come from the good earth G-d has made.

As one person, there isn't much I can do by myself. I can't ignore, but, at the same time, I cannot save the planet. But, I can change things, little by little. I am burdened by the large amounts of trash that litter our parks and streets in Southwest Philly, including our little block on Reedland Street. I am burdened by the fact that it's easier to find junk food than a fresh, bright plump tomato in the city. I am burdened by how uncommon flowers are found.

A container garden in urban Mexico. I don't own this picture.

I want to plant things to bring a little light to my life. And maybe, it can be a little light to that of my neighbors, too. Maybe, planting and growing can be something we can do and enjoy together. As more and more people in the world move into the cities, I want to be able to live a life that is sustainable and nourishing to my neighbors. I want cities where less kids have asthma, and there's more tended to parks to play in. These are some of my dreams and I will let them be so.

Peace to you,
Rachel

Oh Beloved Community! (Some current thoughts on being part of a community of people)

I’ve been reflecting a lot about community and what the role of community is in my life.

I think I’m meant to be at Esperanza because of the community here. I know that honestly, when I came here, I didn’t think much of Esperanza’s claim on being a family; I could only focus on the jadedness I felt in all my memories of being part of Church communities, and hearing all of the horror stories. I would listen to the gossip and crazy jokes that are bound to happen in an office environment, and thought it as an affirmation of my cynicism -- that the community at Esperanza was just like everywhere else.

Of course, after being both a patient and volunteer here, my heart, has once again melted, as G-d so inevitably does if I find myself willing to conform to the call to love that he’s given each of us human beings.

This isn’t the first time that I’ve come into church communities with such jadedness. 

As much as I hate that I do this, I suppose that the beauty of coming in with low expectations is that you become pleasantly surprised. You become amazed really at how capable and beautiful we are.
Because there are people at Esperanza that have really truly come alive.

I see it in the lunch rooms when someone shares their story and their true heart with others and their hopes for Kensington.

I see it in the humble and ungrumbling behind-the-scene service of my co-workers who don‘t do “the glamours work“ of working with patients.

I see it the beaming and sunshine-like smiles of my supervisor, and I feel it in her hugs.

I hear it in affirming and truthful encouragements spilling out of the beautiful bilingual tongues here.

None of them are perfect. Trust me. None of them are.
And the reality is this, too: I’m not either.
None of us are. Squat.
Who am I to square in on the weaknesses of others, when I myself have every insecurity brimming in my soul and pouring out in the life-crushing actions I sometimes become slave to?

If we focus on the ugly, and remain in seeing in the ugly, all we will receive is the ugly, because that is all that we will perceive and see.

One of the beautiful things about grace is that it gives us the freedom to be honest with ourselves without condemnation. We can be honest about the fact that, we aren’t always what we need to be. In our hearts, each of us still wrestle with our feelings of unworthiness.

Grace gives me the courage to admit to myself that sometimes, I don’t treat or think well of my brothers and sisters, that often, I’m afraid of them and it‘s because of my insecurity. And Grace gives me the courage to move on. Grace gives me the ability to start again, to hope and to begin moving towards trust and love, a love that believes the best in others.

I truly think that community is important, because it is the place where we can confront our brokenness and begin to grow towards wholeness. Community is the place where G-d’s consuming and purifying fire can do it's work. I think that the body of Christ is to be a witness of true community for the world: a community that cares, that calls us to love others, ourselves and to seek G-d. A place where forgiveness happens.  A place where we can become whole. And so community is for the building up and loving of each human being. We are for each other, but, we are for the world, too.

I want to make a pact with myself, and this is the promise: that I will be an advocate for the Church. I want to fight for her. I want to fight for all communities, but especially the Church, this community that is supposed to be the witness of Christ’s love in the world. I want to make sure that I do what I can do to encourage communities, to be united in compassion and care for each other.

Who is part of your community?

Your community might be your family. It might be your  friends. It might be the co-workers that carry you through, or the woman at the Laundromat that you have heart to hearts with each week and lifts your soul.
Find your community.
And if you don’t have one. Start making one.
Reach out. I’m still trying to reach out. Reaching out can be the hard part, because it’s acknowledging that you need others.

I was reminded recently -- and will probably be again in the near future -- that it’s okay to need others. I get so freaked out at the idea of asking for help, that “I’ll start digging holes” to hide in and get stuck in. And I‘ll dig deeper and deeper until I can no longer stand the darkness and I panic. I’m reminded constantly that it’s okay to have needs, because the reality is, that we are all poor.

And so, it’s okay to need help. We need others. We need community. A single person isn’t going to complete us because none of us are perfect. But the good news is, each of us have strengths according the grace and goodness we have found in our lives, and so all have the ability to bless others and a place in community.

So go find your community. Find where you can give. And find where you can receive. Find where you can grow, love and be loved.

Who is part of your community?

Can we talk about this?

I think the hardest post I had ever written was about this little thing called "race".

Sense then, I don't think I've written much about it.

But being in Mission Year, I have thought LOTS about it and we've talked a lot about it. Because one of the topics that we talk about the most is racial reconciliation, especially within the church.

It is the topic that frustrates me the most. It's hard to talk about it, because, I feel like, most of my white friends don't ever have to think about racism. And, it's hard, because... most of the friends that I made in art school and at Wild Goose happen to be white.

I'm writing this, because, I want to know if it's okay to talk about it. I just want to know. And if it makes you uncomfortable, that's okay, because I'm uncomfortable and unsure right now... Can we talk about this?

 I'm scared to talk about it, because I think about all the instances where race has been brought up, and ALL these defenses are made. These defenses that sound like "why can't they just get over it. We live in the 21st century for pete's sake! why do we have to talk about race?". I don't like to bring it up, because there is so much resistance, so much resistance to caring and to being informed and to have honest conversations. And so, it becomes like a huge mess of vulnerability turned into nothing. It feels a lot like having your pearls thrown to pigs.

I'm writing this because I want to talk about it. Can we talk about this?

I want to talk about the neighborhood I live in Philly and how there are so many people who look different from me. In Philadelphia  I live in a diverse neighborhood. Puerto-Ricans, Italians, Black Americans, immigrants from Africa and Chactaw Native Americans all live on my block, and it's weird to think that a lot of my friends haven't lived in places where they've experienced that much diversity or in a neighborhood where they've been the minority.

I want to talk about how, being a multi-ethnic person, I feel a little more at home there than I did at Wild Goose festival or in art school.

 I don't know.... I don't know where this is going. But, I am just burdened by the fact that... I feel like, so many of my closest friends never have to worry about what I worry about, because we live in a society where "white is the norm". I don't have any answers, and I'm not writing this to point fingers or anything. I just really wanted to share how I feel, and the discomfort I have felt for a long time.

Can we talk about this?

Grace and peace to you,

Rachel Virginia

A Year in Photos

It's a few days until the new year. 2013. Just a few days ago, I was reunited with my camera, of which had been broken and had sat in a repair shop for several months during my time in Philadelphia for Mission Year.

Sense I've gotten my camera, I've been somewhat in loss for what I want to do with photo. I think, even more so, it was when I went to art school that I experienced more of a sense of confusion.

I'm in Durham right now for winter break. I have not had much of the opportunity while I'm in Durham to photo-shoot others due to my lack of relationships and time here, but, at the same time, I do wish to take more photos and experiment.

I'm drawn into the idea of doing a 365 this year. A 365 is when you take a portrait of yourself or something related to your life everyday for a year. I know that last year, or maybe it was back in 2011, I had the idea of doing one, but didn't follow through. I'm hoping that this year, I will be able to. One can try at least. So, I won't be starting today officially, but, I will be prepping and then beginning on the night of the new year. I want this to be an opportunity for me to explore the world of photo again. I want it to be an experience that stretches me, like an exercise -- there will be days that I'm not in the mood to do it, but, I will push through. I'm excited about this, and so excited to have my camera back.

I hope that you will enjoy the 365 that I'm about to endeavor in, as well as the other adventures I hope to be sharing through my photos this year, especially as I go back to 7 more months of Mission Year!

Grace and Peace to you,

~Rachel

P.S. I will not be posting the photos everyday unto this blog, because on this blog, I want to focus primarily on my Mission Year adventure and reflections! I will probably feature other photos as well here. But, to get the most of my 365, you will want to visit my Flicker page every once in a while! 

Hope and Advent

Myself, Kristen and Mary respectively.

Here is all us who volunteer at Esperanza Health Center! WUT WUT. :) 
From left to right is me, Kristen and Mary. They are wonderful and kind ladies, and they have such heartwarming and kind presenceses. I don’t live with them, but, it’s really neat to be able to share some of the Esperanza experience with these ladies. It’s nice.

Kristen and Mary work often at the other sites, so, I do not get to see them that often. Kristen works as a cook and server at the cafe at the Hunting Park location, and Mary is a volunteer medical assistant, working in between the three sites, but mostly at location near Alleghany and 5th Street. And, as I had mentioned before, I help out with the clerical assistants, making it the first reason that I (who currently smells of compost) has ever had to dress in "business casual" clothing so far.

Esperanza is the Spanish word for Hope, which is kind of funny, because, hope is what I find the season of Advent to be about. In this picture, we're standing outside of a buidling called Project Home, which is another one of the service sites that our Mission Year peers volunteers at, which works to develop solutions to homeless and poverty here in Philadelphia. We became a part of a seminar there called Peace on Earth and the Politics of Christmas hosted by a man called Will O' Brien who is part of a conspiring group called The Alternative Seminary.. I was pretty excited to go to this "class/seminar" thing, in which we basically talked about and compared the gospels of Luke and Matthew and dived into what the writers were moved to share about Jesus's arrival on Earth.

O' Brien wanted to share this seminar with us because of his desire to discover what it would mean to have a more meaningful Christmas, one that isn't reduced to consumerism and busy-ness, as well as a more meaningful season of Advent, a season in which we prepare for the coming of King Jesus on earth, a season in which we remember the brokenness of the world and remember that there is hope in His grace and His Way.

I will not get into the full details of what O' Brien talked about, but, I think that overall, most of my Mission Year peers, as well as myself, were challenged into being more thoughtful about significance of Christ's birth, keeping in mind the manner in which he humbly was born into poverty, to obscure parents, and the period of hostility that he was born into. Looking at Jesus, and the world that he chose to be born into, what does that mean for us, who want to follow the way of Jesus? What does that mean Christmas should look like to us? And what does Jesus' birth have to do with the rest of his whole life? There are many questions to ask in regards to what Christmas should mean to us, and those are questions I am asking myself this Advent.

For me, Christmas is a time to remember whose alliegence I want my heart, mind, body and soul to align myself with. Do I want to align myself with the loving, peaceful and life-affirming way of Christ, the Prince of Peace? Or do I want to align myself with the violent, chaotic and nihilistic ways of Herod... of Ceasar... of those who rule with darkness? For me, Christmas time is a reminder that there is hope in the revelation of Christ and His Kingdom, that the whole world can be redeemed and made new. Advent, and it's final arrival unto Christmas is when I can remember that the Light of the world chose to be with us human beings, all of us who are poor and lonely. Out of his compassion, he chose to be in solidarity with our poorness and loneliness when he was born.

I hope that this time of year will be one that you can meditate on what it means for Jesus to be born into the world, and what that means for your life and for your spiritual journey, as well as the lives of those around you. You can check out a group called Advent Conspiracy for ideas if you wish. 

If you want to get a general idea of what O' Brien talks about each year, you can listen to this video uploaded by The Simple Way, one of the co-conspirators of Mission Year and the Alternative Seminary.

Peace be with you,
Love,
Rachel

You and me.

No one but God knows how long I struggled, how I turned to Him, and turned from Him, again and again. I, too, felt that distaste. I, too, felt that religion had a morbid quality.

Dorothy Day

I think that if I was in love with someone, that I would want them to at least stay and be honest with me. And so, I believe that G-d loves like that. He can handle it. I still want You with me, with us.

There is a gift in being small, there is a gift in small things.

Thankful….

I’m thankful for clothes, and that I can wear them, even if I’ve worn some holes into them. I’m thankful that I can stay warm, and that I can wear something that I like, something that I feel good about wearing.

And right now, I noticed that I’m glad that I can see my feet, even if they are covered in boots. Sight is something that I never think about.

I’m thankful for wisdom, words, ways and wonder that point to what’s true.

I’m thankful for the gift of employees to share conversation over the burden of work that isn’t always pleasurable or fun to do. I’m thankful for the opportunities to turn menial or mundane times into quiet, intentional moments of stillness (like Brother Lawrence would do.)

I’m thankful for being able to give the opportunity to take color theory and mix colors.
Thankful that I’m single. That I’m not in a relationship mistakenly looking for joy there, being able to have the opportunity to see that a relationship isn’t something that I want to find joy in, but to bring joy in.

Thankful for the friends that I’ve made and the each new day that I get to a chance to see them better than the day before, to enjoy them, to understand, to learn from them and about them.

I’m thankful for every crisis of faith that I have ever had, for they have allowed me to find liberation in Grace, rather than my own answers.

There is a lot that I miss. I miss the stars. Only one is bright enough to show it’s face in the orange-black night sky of Philadelphia-land. But still, there is so much today.

There is a lot that is different. There are housemates who are different. So so different from me and my old friends. But they are challenging to me. They are good for me. And they have different ways of blessing me, whether they be with free haircuts/shaves, giving the best hugs and kisses, confronting me with the truth, or agreeing to go see Band of Horses with me. This isn’t art school, there aren’t dance-offs in dorms, music making or 2am trips to the beach… but different is good. I know that this time is right and good for me.

I’ve been struggling with depression/anxiety sense I’ve been in Philly. That’s why I’m a patient at Esperanza. I’ve found that being thankful helps to fight the intrusive sadness that wants to be there. It can be hard, because at times, every fiber of my being wants to create a million excuses to why I shouldn’t be thankful for this; I’ll try to convince myself that I’m hopeless or that things are awful, and they really aren’t. We are small, and yet we mean something. There’s so much goodness and grace in the world, and in my world. I just need to look for it.

Such goodness must be passed on…

A Pauper's Rite of Passage

Here in Southwest Philly, routine has etched itself deeply into the lives of my teammates and I. Our usual four day volunteer week was interrupted as it switched into a four-day weekend on behalf of Thanksgiving, in which we spent with the family across the street of our home sweet home. 

We’re entering the last stretch of the 1st trimester of our Mission Year adventure, and to think that our time here has already flown past the way it has leaves me wondering what to do with the bittersweet bubbling I‘ve been experiencing in my mind and heart.

It has come to be known to me that quite a lot has occurred over the past few weeks, including happenings in the month of October that I still feel somewhat unable to fully process. The idea that many events and encounters have happened and realizing that I had found little opportunity to reflect on these occurrences has left me feeling somewhat unsettled. Perhaps that is result of immersing yourself quite rapidly in a new environment filled with all new people, streets and buildings.

However, I was encouraged by one of my teammates today to meditate on and write about my PROP experience, as I had mentioned to her how I touched it briefly on my blog but have yet to tackle and reflect on it fully; even in my conversation with friends, I have spared much of the details and thoughts concerning my own experiencing during this outing.

A Pauper's Right of Passage

PROP is an acronym for Pauper’s Rite of Passage, an idea birthed from the mind of Mission Year’s academic director and the teacher for my Theology of Poverty class, Chris Lahr. The idea of PROP was to spend the day out in the streets with no possessions, no money, no cell phone devices -- nada. Chris had introduced this challenge to us upon a discussion he brought us into during our weekly citywide gathering that called into question common approaches with outreach to the homeless and those who spend much of their time in the streets. I wasn’t particularly daunted by this challenge at first, especially sense before coming to Philadelphia, I had already spent parts of my weekends in college hanging out with hitchhikers, punks and houseless people that I met on the streets.

However, it wasn’t until we began the challenge that things got… well… awkward. All of a sudden, I was expected to participate in this “rite of passage”, thrown out into street to experience solitude and a mobile meditation, encouraged to build connections without an agenda. As I found myself wandering through the city with my housemate, Michael, we found ourselves wrestling a lot with what we were challenged with and what we could possibly learn. 

We weren’t to pretend that we were homeless or street kids in order to "see what it's like". But, now, as I look back, I think that what I experienced was what it is like to be naked and vulnerable in a world where some are able to get away with being covered up easier than others. I gave thought to the implications that some of the interactions that occurred had made between me and the persons who interacted with me. I found myself more able to sink into casual conversation with those who saw me to be “on their level” or as “some thirsty kid with nothing better to do”. Perhaps, having nothing to do and nowhere to go but stand outside a 7Eleven wishing for a bottle of water was a type of solidarity that allowed the folks who experience life on the streets daily to be vulnerable with me. In turn, I found it more difficult to engage with those who didn’t see me that way, those who would beg to me as if they could see the manmade difference of privilege between us, like they would to the people who passed in front of us. Something about having someone beg to you right off the bat tends to establish what type of relationship might result, Michael mused. Perhaps it was that revelation, that made me feel unsettled when I gave the begging man my cup of water, and we moved on. It was like I used my power and privilege -- my stuff-- as a replacement for myself, as a means to not offer up my own brokenness; the fact that I‘m in need, too. And it’s hard knowing what to do when it appeared at the time as though the only thing that the one who begged to me expected that I might give was my shallow stuff as opposed to my time, my story -- me.

As all 21 of us Mission Year kids gathered together upon reflection that night, some shared stories about their experience with panhandling. One guy in particular sharing with us that he began to appreciate the “no“s that acknowledged and heard his request as opposed to the obliviousness passerbys would fain. As many of us experimented with panhandling, we realized as we were overlooked by people we would normally identify as “our tribe” how much each of us overlook the brothers and sisters who may not appear to be like us, the very people whom Jesus called us to love. It was one of those occurrences which causes you to realize with a new sense how truly poor we are. All of us are. 

So now, as I pass folks everyday on my way to Esperanza, I pass both those people who appear broken and in need and those who can cover it up easily like so much of us can with our wealth, privilege and titles. I continue to wrestle with what it means to be myself in a hurting and unjust world, one in which individuals continue to choose blindness, to turn its head to the poverty of others as well as their own, one that continues to dismiss the need for the grace and love G-d has left hanging perpetually in the air, ready to be claimed by anyone who wishes to have redeemed the brokeness that we all share, regardless of where we come from and what we have. I’m excited (and nervous) about how G-d will be using these revelations through out my life and as I progress through this program with my housemates. I encourage you to pray for all of us here.

The Story So Far...

To be very honest, it has been very difficult for me to articulate all that has happened the past two months here at Mission Year.

So here, I will make a list of those events and occurrences  and maybe, I will elaborate on some of these. Please, don't hesitate to ask questions, to post comments below. If there is anything that you are unclear about or want to discuss, please let me know. I want to have a conversation with you. I wouldn't mind at all speaking to you over the phone, or maybe over on Skype or corresponding over email, really. Besides, I'm SUPER grateful for the support that I've been receiving from you, and I want you to be able to share in my experience as much as possible.

So here we grow...

1. A week ago, all of us participating in Mission Year Philadelphia participated in something that one of our leaders at Mission Year, Chris Lahr, introduced to us, called Pauper's Right of Passage (PROP). The idea of PROP is to spend the entire day out in the streets with nothing, no possessions, no money, no cell phone. Nada. I went with one of my housemates, Micheal, downtown to spend the day there. We were encouraged to make interactions of course, as well as to panhandle (why, yes, I'm writing that quite lightly. I did panhandle, and I know that some folks reading this might be offended by this). I encourage you to read Mary's and Katelin's experiences as I got too discouraged early in the process of panhandling that, I didn't continue for too long compared to some of my peers. However, one thing I found in common amongst our experiences were that during the time that we were out in the streets, we noticed that when we asked people for help, that most people would ignore us and pretend that we weren't there. One man in particular told me to go away, which wounded me deeply in how he carried his tone, as if I was someone to be afraid of. Some of my peers had more positive experiences, and the person who helped me get a bottle of water didn't look like he was doing "well off" himself. However, Micheal and I were able to make a few new friends along the way, one of them formally being houseless and another being a girl and her boyfriend whom Micheal visited today and discovered that they were doing well.

I'm still processing so much of that weekend and I wish that I could share it in a more narrative form.

2. I'm taking a classed call "Theology of Poverty" which is taking place out of a partnership between Mission Year and Eastern University. For the first part of my class, we have done Scriptural journals; journals that are based on reflecting on different Scriptures. With this assignment, we've been given questions about the particular Scripture that allows us to reflect on G-d's heart for people and the nature of poverty. With these journals, I've been thinking about how really, we are ALL poor, regardless of whether we are in the United States or in India. We are all hungry and thirsty and needy, but, that hunger and need is manifested in different ways, depending on our lives, depending if we are physically rich or physically poor. Regardless, we are all hungry for love and meaning, acceptance....  Taking this class as a supplement to my Mission Year experience has really challenged me in the way I view myself, and the way I see others, and I see myself with a much more humble perspective, a perspective that has shown me how much the world really needs the love, hope and peace of G-d.

Again, I'm still trying meditating on all of this. I find myself wishing to express myself mostly in poetic or narrative form once again, but, am finding myself unable to at the moment, for I often feel so cramped with time.

3 A lot of what I've been experiencing here is ministry to my own heart. A lot of times, we can partake in programs like these and expect to be the one that is doing the serving and doing the loving. But, I've been learning about how necessary it is for us to be able to go places as disciples of Christ and allow ourselves to be loved by those that we serve or live among. It is dignifying to the other person, and can be dehumanizing if we don't allow folks to give and bless us. Here, I've been seeing how I am experiencing a lot of healing from relationships that wounded me deeply in the past. Being here among so many people like my housemates, who are simply doing their best to show me G-d's love incarnationally in my life, and also spur me on in trusting the ways of Christ, ways of peace and reconciliation... it's been changing me a whole heck of a lot. And I find that important, especially as someone who wants to better understand how deep and wide and long and tall the love of G-d is.

So, the process of sharing with you what is happening and what I'm learning during this time that I am away, has been difficult, because, it can not be described in terms of "missions trip" as I have been taught to think of mission trips. Mission Year isn't a mission trip and at the same time it is. But the thing about Mission Year, is that Mission Year has challenged a lot of what is often thought or done with missions. With Mission Year, I am learning and experiencing a way of life, rather than some goal. Mission Year causes me to think truly about what it means to be a disciple and what it means to make disciples. And this is a time where I find myself experiencing conversion, transformation, within myself, where I've been finding. I've been thinking so much about how Jesus scolded the Pharisees for cleaning only the outside of their bowls, where it doesn't truly count. I thank G-d that I am here, but here in Philly in this time I am seeing that He is helping me clean the inside of my cup with his all consuming fiery love (yay for Christianese! but, hey, it's a dang good metaphor...), as I hope, so that all that I do may be born of the love He has for me. Besides, nothing we do is great if it isn't in love, right?

So, our only goal and our only agenda is to love. We're not here to save Philly. G-d is going to save Philly and the whole word, He already has. And we're only taking part in it. So, my only agenda, or rather, the only agenda that I want to have is to love people and to love G-d. And I think, the first step in love, is to listen, to listen to the needs of others, for that is what G-d does for us, he hears us cry. Our Father has heard us, and has continued to hear us as we call out to Him in all aspects of our lives. The only way I can imagine living is in that same light, to share that love with the world.


From Philly with love,
~Rachel

Having Fun Along the Way

In between curriculum, our online class, serving our neighbors and participating in our volunteer sites.... we like to enjoy each other in laughter and we also take time to enjoy the things we like. A lot of times, I forget about some of the things I like from back home, like my hobbies or what I like to listen to. 

Micheal, one of my housemates, and I are photo geeks, and for his birthday, he got some photo gear. So, we decided to play with his diffuser umbrella some! Here's our little experimentation with his umbrella and some general goofing off.

Ashley Gibbs being a cutie... courtesy of Micheal Mann. Isn't she adorable guys?

Micheal has a tendency to just keep firing away..... Me holding the flash umbrella.

I tried to make Schuyler my subject....

"WHAT'LL HAPPEN IF WE PUT IT UNDER HIS FACE?"

Meaningwhile... Ashliegh Bynum was making our dinner, minding her own business. Everyone cooks at our house. That was her dinner night.

This is kind of magical. Taking a picture of Micheal while he's holding the flash diffuser.

And of course, I like to explore the places I'm in.

The last few pictures are those that I took outside from our backyard just for funsies. I miss my camera a ridiculous amount, and so, it's nice and refreshing to be able to borrow one from my housemates every once in a while. I'm so excited in just being able to capture some images that'll soon become memories. In our hobbies and in our free time we can remember our uniqueness and some of the gifts we can offer to each others as individuals.

I hope that this finds you well.

From Philly,

~Rachel Virginia.

The Gift of Fellowship

          I think personally, I can forget that fellowship, whether it be in community or in friendships (or marriage, for you married folks), can be a great big gift from G-d. I think that remembering this is important to me, because it allows me to remember my G-d, from whom which all good gifts come from. When I forget that true friends and community are a result of G-d’s love alive in the world, I can often find myself functioning in these environments with thanklessness, without care, with a stony heart.

This year, I found myself in community with others, something that I had longed for for quite sometime. Here at The Treehouse (just kidding!*), my roommates and I are experiencing fellowship among each other. I’m learning that fellowship is a wonderful opportunity to learn about ourselves, what are gifts and weaknesses are, as well as it is a opportunity for us to be purified by the fire that is G-d’s love. Being in community with others is also an excellent and wonderful opportunity for us to learn what it means for us, as individuals to love other individuals, and to realize what type of functions we might serve in the body of Christ.

So on that note, I want to share about last night. Last night, we met at my city director’s (Nate) church, La Iglesia del Barrio, in order to share a covenant that all three teams located here in Philadelphia were encouraged to create with our respective teams. This covenant was designed to be a commitment that we’ve made to each other and to express what it would mean for us to carry this commitment together within our daily lives. This commitment that we’ve made to each other is about loving each other, and choosing to stay in on each other, even when times get tough and even when it seems hard to love and forgive. So as we all gathered together that night in the dimly lit sanctuary, my team shared our covenant with the other teams and the Mission Year alum who have come to visit us. My team leader, Ashliegh,  washed the hands of my housemates and myself in a bowl as a symbol of our commitment to serve one another. I found it to be a wonderful moment, reflective of how Christ put us before himself, with the joy and hope of it restoring relationship with us. Likewise, we want to love each other, even when it is hard, so we can continue on living reconciled to each other. These are some of wonders of being in commitment to those you share the gift of fellowship with.

Before we got our hands washed though, each of us in the sanctuary lit a candle and put it in a bowl of water so it could float among the other illuminated candles. Like illuminated candles, when placed into the water, we cause a ripple that affects everyone else; our lives are interconnected, even if we think they are not. And when the candles move closer to each other, the light that we carry each as individuals become greater -- by ourselves, we carry the Light of G-d, but when we are together, and the closer we become to one another, the brighter that Light shines. I really adored the symbolism of those candles.

I’m not sure what will come about with our time here. All I know is that I really like being with the people that the Lord has put me with, and I know that I don’t want to take advantage of and forget how precious this gift is. These people and the commitment that we’ve made to each other has been put into my life because He loves me. And so, I want to encourage others to look around them and see where beautiful committed relationships can be formed and sustained, whether it be marriage or friendship or family… for being purified in this way, by seeking reconciliation with those around us is the means in which we can become more loving and more holy. Let it be so.

courtesy of my roommate, Ashliegh Bynum

*P.S. Just kidding! Our house isn’t called the Tree House at all! Well... it hasn’t been approved by all my roommates anyway. We have the only two trees on our block. I just really want to call it the Tree House. So, technically… it’s pending. I just love when houses have names, especially sense we all have different last names here in our Southwest Philly home.

Give Me Dreams-- A Path to Keep Following

          A song usually has the tendency to bring me back to the time when I first heard it or to return to a stage when it was at the height of its rotation in my life. Every once in a while, I’ll look at my iTunes library or my iTunes, wanting to listen, knowing that somewhere deep inside, I miss the sounds and the lyrics that motivated me and drove me and became the theme songs of the seasons that I lived and now have  been left behind.

          Today I finally got myself to bring up my music library, and I found myself willing to be surprised, (otherwise, I’d probably be stuck on David Wimbush and the Collection, a band which has been on high rotation ever sense I saw them play at the Wild Goose festival a few months back in the summer. Such a joyful noise!) so I selected the rotation icon on the bottom of the screen and pressed play.  The first song to play brought back upon me a flood of memories, bringing me back to a season where I found myself pondering over the possible adventures in store for me. The song was “Please Don’t Go” by Barcelona, one that I would find myself sticking on repeat and would leave me lying on floors or sitting in the shadows of a barely lit room, wondering what was to become of my life, reflecting on all of the people I’ve never met that I found myself excited to meet, the places that I would journey to and the landscapes I would etch into my memory, also entertaining the possibility of being mutually in love; the first time I believed that I began to purposely, not hopelessly, dream.

by Rachel Virginia (c) 2010

          And so here I am with Mission Year, on my day of rest, wondering what to write about for a blog post. I could write along the lines of the extensive list of topics and issues of which a lot of us here have been discussing and having conversations over. I could begin by describing some of my encounters. However, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. It still feels somewhat early in my journey. I‘ve yet to know what to make of all that I‘ve been learning. And I’m not sure if I know what yet to make of the new relationships that have fallen into my life.

           I’m not even sure what to make of the discoveries I’ve been making about myself.  But I think, if anything, I wanted to start by announcing that I’m here.
Somehow, with all the dreaming and wonder and hoping and turn of events which I could have never imagined happening over the past one or two years… I’m here.

          I realized that I’m here, and I don’t know exactly where “here” is. But, I think “here” is  this. Here is now. Here is me being in Philly, with Mission Year, with the people around me with all that’s going on within me. And I do find myself reflecting upon place quite a lot. I’ve been thinking about how I find myself thinking of the day I‘m in, and all the business going on around me. And yet, now that I’m “here”, I wonder, what is my dream, the vision for my life, here in this place?  I’d like to think of myself  as present, but, sometimes, when I look back, I wonder if a lot of the times I’m finding myself distracted, too. Distracted with all that I must do and get done, and maybe all of the distractions have become obstacles that have resulted in being a little blurred in terms of direction.

I am here, but what is my vision for here? 

I want to live in the present, but what is my dream now that I find myself in this time, in this place, with the people around me and with all that’s welling up within me? 

I find myself longing for the music again, theme songs for this season, songs for the “here” I find myself wanting cadences and swells that  understand the cry of my heart, and songs that know the adventure of living. When I was younger, in my room, listening to the songs that encouraged my imagination to dance, I had visions. And although I didn't know exactly where I was going, I knew that what was welling up in my heart, the hopes and dreams, that they were from my Father in Heaven, because I believe that G-d has us yearn for more, to desire greater things in our hearts-- if our hearts truly are wellsprings of life, if they truly are compasses that lead us home-- because He cares for us. Those visions give me the strength to bring myself  “here“..

And so, on this Sabbath, I am deciding that it is important to rest, to do what rejuvenates you, to find what makes you come alive again. For me, it’s the songs, the colors, the visions that create something in me that encourages me to propel forward and to believe in a better life and a better world. I want to make time for that. I want to make time to uncloud and learn about the unique vision placed within me for this time of my life, to have a path to run down further.