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pain to grow | doler para crecer
Growing pains. I remember seasons of specifically waking up, when I was a small kid or even into my college career, with a sharp, distinct and unsoothable pain shooting up and down my shins. As a kid, I'd spark awake with tears flowing down my face and yelling for my mom to come ease my worries. As a college student, I awoke, annoyed that I was still growing, took an Advil, downed a glass of water, rolled back over and tried to get some much needed sleep at the time. The point is the following: I always felt, I always recognized and I always dealt with these growing pains.
Our bodies have a unique way of teaching our non-physical selves how to deal with things and trust in the process of life:
If I had an open wound, my body would mend it back together.
If I invested myself deeply in a relationship and ended getting hurt, I trusted that my heart would mend itself back together.
With a lot of time over-exerting my body out in the sun I'd come in with a blistery burn. My blistered shoulders eventually healed.
When I took a leap of faith and got burned by the reality of the world. Or when someone close to me chose to not hold up their end of the deal; I took a long breath, gathered up my things, looked forward and walked into the next leap.
With age, came growing pains. I grew.
And...with age, come growing pains. And I'm growing.
This year cordially invited me into a whirlwind of emotions, new relationships, hard conversations, some tears, lots of doubt and even more growth.
Although I felt growing pains the most in my legs, the discomfort spread throughout my whole body and somehow affected it. The same happened this year as I began to ask myself hard questions about my future and ask myself even harder questions about what God's specific assignments currently looked like in my life. These growing pains seeped into my everyday life, changing the filter in which I saw everything and everyone around me. And, just as when I was a small kid, I tried to swallow others' trajectories around me and wash it down with an escape route to avoid the pain that was around me.
I've wrestled with, gone on long runs about and cried over this decision: to stay in Nicaragua or to leave. And at the end of the day I always ended up with the same conclusion: I. Don't. Know. If you would have asked me 6 months ago, then again 3 months again and then again a month ago where I was going to be a year from today I would have said "probably teaching in a school somewhere and hopefully with a population of students who wouldn't normally have the opportunity to have a good education". That's not a bad thing for my future. In all actuality, that's very accurate - I'd love to be in educational leadership sometime down the line. It's just not for right now.
This I. Don't. Know, which had become my nagging normal for so many months, recently converted itself into an I. Know.
I know that my time in Nicaragua, what God has entrusted in me, and the assignment He has given me is still active, it's still alive. It's not over. I know that I have more of my assignment to finish. I know this might come as a surprise to you, vulnerably speaking, because it also did to me. As I started to look ahead, in certain ways, to the future throughout this year, I hadn't realized that my heart wasn't following where my head was trying to lead it. And luckily, before it got too far off, my head looked backwards to hear the crying of my heart and decided to turn back around.
Word choice is important to me. It can truly make or break a relationship, conversation or someone's image. So - I look at the phrase "growing pains". I really think that we should start to refer to it as Pain to Grow. Let's be real, when we are going through growing pains we are not being consoled with the wisdom and comfort of the first part or "growing", we're pretty focused only on the "pain". If we tweak the phrase and pose it as 'Pain to Grow', we know the end goal. We are sure of what the results going to be. We are going to experience pain and then we will be transformed. Because surely, when the pain is done, we will be transformed. We will be taller. We will be stronger. We will have become 'that' much closer to who each one of us was made to become. Pain to Grow is an upward motion. We know things grow up. Not down. Not left or right. It's upward.
Alongside of all pain rests, in the wings, it's pal growth, we just have to take a step back and recognize where the last pencil mark on the door frame was, and truly how far we have come. Instead of feeling like I'm wedged between a rock and a hard place, I proudly stand in front of my progress, my growth and am grateful I didn't throw in the towel. I'm grateful that I can see a measurable difference between "Danny" on November 30th, 2015 and on November 30th, 2016. What stands in the gap of those 365 days is growth. I see growth in confidence, growth in conviction and growth in my trust of our loving, powerful and incredibly intentional God.
Trust me in this. Accompany me through this next year in Nicaragua and be sure that God will continue to reveal His assignment to me as He grows me into the man He's forever dreamt me to be. I'll continue to learn from you and hope that I can teach you something along the way.
Thank you for your consistency, your example, your goodness, your generosity and the gift you've given me to be a part of your story. Here's to more of trusting in Growth.
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Dolores del crecimiento. Me acuerdo, perfectamente, cuando era niño o aún hasta la etapa de vida en la universidad, los momentos cuando me despertaba con un dolor pero un madre dolor que era agudo y distinto que no se pudo aliviar que me subía y bajaba por toda la canilla. Cuando era un chavalito, por el dolor me abrió los ojos en la madrugada, y así amanecí, acompañado con lágrimas que se me salieron hasta que mi mama vino, recordándome que todo iba a salir bien y diciendo que me calmara. Ya años después, en la universidad, me desperté , molesto que estos dolores me habían seguido por tanto tiempo, me tomé una pastilla, trague un vaso de agua y me acosté de nuevo para intentar descansar lo mas que pude en esa etapa de mi vida. Lo que quiero decir sobre estos dolores es lo siguiente: Yo siempre los he sentido, siempre los he reconocido y siempre he lidiado con estos dolores del crecimiento.
Nuestros cuerpos les enseñan, en una manera única, a nuestros seres no físicos como lidiar y confiar en el proceso de la vida.
Si tuviera una herida, mi cuerpo me la compondría.
Cuando invertí mucho en una relacion y me quedé dolido al final, pude confiar que mi corazón se iba a poder componer.
Si me hubiera asoleado mucho y regresado a las casa bien quemado. Mis hombros, adornados con ampollas, se habría podido curar.
Cuando corrí un riesgo en vida y me turqueo la vida. O cuando un ser querido mío decidió no cumplir lo que había comprometido… yo respiraba profundamente, recogía mis cosas y levantaba mi cabeza para poder seguir adelante.
Con tiempo, me vinieron los dolores del crecimiento. Crecí.
Y con tiempo, vienen los dolores del crecimiento. Y estoy creciendo.
Este año me invito cordialmente para acompañarlo a un torbellino de emociones, nuevas relaciones, conversaciones difíciles, algunas cuantas lágrimas, muchas dudas y aun más crecimiento.
Aunque siempre sentía la mayoría del dolor en las canillas, la incomodidad se extendió por todo mi cuerpo y de una manera o otra me afectó. Lo mismo me pasó este año cuando empecé a hacerme a mí mismo preguntas difíciles sobre el futuro y preguntas, aún más profundas, sobre lo que actualmente Dios me ha encomendado a cumplir. Estos dolores del crecimiento se filtraron en mi vida diaria, cambiando el filtro por lo cual veía todo y todas las personas en mi alrededor. Y, tanto cuando era niño como adulto yo intenté tragar las trayectorias de otras personas y bajar con una ruta de evacuación para huir del dolor que estaba habitando en mi alrededor.
Yo he peleado con, he salido a correr para pensar en y he llorado sobre esta decisión: si me quedara aquí en Nicaragua o si al final me fuera de Nicaragua. Al final de todos los días siempre llegue a una conclusión: “Aún. No. Sé”. Si me hubieras preguntado hace 6 meses, y luego hace 3 meses, y hasta hace un mes donde estaría, yo, en un año yo te hubiera contestado: Bueno es posible que yo esté enseñando en una escuela en algún lugar y deseo estar con una población de estudiantes que normalmente no tendría una oportunidad justa para una buena educación.”. Eso no es malo para mi futuro. De verdad, es muy cierto lo que he soñado - Me fascinaría estar en liderazgo educativo algún día en el futuro. Pero eso no es para ahora.
Este “Aún. No. Sé”, que se me había hecho un constante agobiante por muchos meses de este año, recientemente se convirtió en “Si, Sé”
Yo sé que mi tiempo en Nicaragua, lo que Dios me ha encomendado en mi aún está activo, aún está vivo. No se ha acabado. Yo sé que me falta cumplir todavía todo lo que Dios me ha encomendado en mi.
Supongo que lo que te estoy compartiendo te sorprende porque, hablando con vulnerabilidad, también me sorprendió a mi. Algunas meses atrás, cuando empecé a mirar al futuro de este año, no me había dado cuenta que mi corazón no estaba siguiendo a las huellas donde mi cabeza lo quiso guiar. Y, afortunadamente, antes de que se me alejara demasiado, me cabeza volteó a ver atrás para escuchar el llanto de mi corazón y decidió darse la vuelta.
Elección de palabras es importante para mi. Yo creo que la elección de palabras puede arruinar una relación, conversación o la imagen de una persona. Bueno, miremos la phrase: “Dolores del crecimiento”. Yo creo que debemos empezar a referirnos a la phrase como Doler para Crecer. Seamos sinceros... cuando estás pasando por una etapa con dolores del crecimiento nos estamos estando consolados por la parte de la frase, “del crecimiento”, estamos 100% enfocado en lo de los dolores. Pero miremos a algo: si cambiamos la frase a “Doler para Crecer” ya sabemos lo que será el resultado: Crecimiento. La estructura de la frase nos ayuda a llegar a la meta final: crecimiento. Porque de seguro cuando termine el dolor seremos seres transformados. Seremos más altos. Seremos más fuertes. Seremos aún más cerca a los seres que Dios nos hizo a ser. Doler para Crecer implica crecimiento hacia arriba. Bien sabemos que lo que crece, crece arriba. No crece abajo. Ni a la izquierda, ni a la derecha. Crecimiento va hacia arriba.
Al lado de todo dolor, esperando su momento, está su compañero: el crecimiento. Solo tenemos que tomar un paso atrás y reconocer dónde quedó la última marca de la lapicero en el cuadro de la puerta y de alli nos damos cuenta de cuanto hemos crecido. En vez de sentir que estoy entre la espada y la pared, yo sobresalgo frente mi progreso, mi crecimiento, y estoy agradecido que no tiré la toalla. Estoy agradecido que se me note una diferencia entre “Danny” del día 30 de noviembre de 2015 y 30 de noviembre 2016. Dentro esos 365 días queda el crecimiento. La confianza en mí mismo creció, el convencimiento en mi vida creció y la confianza, que tengo en nuestro Dios que es amoroso, poderoso y que siempre actúa a propósito, creció.
Confía en mí. Acompáñame durante este año aqui en Nicaragua y te aseguro que Dios seguirá revelando lo que me quiere encomendar mientras me sigue creciendo a ser el hombre que siempre ha soñado que yo fuera. Yo seguiré aprendiendo de ti y ojala que te enseñe algo también.
Te agradezco por tu consistencia, tu ejemplo, tu bien, tu generosidad y que me has permitido formar parte tu de historia. ¡Vamos adelante confiando en el Crecimiento!
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people.
A couple of weekends ago I got to take a trip with 3 of my co-workers: Walter, Julio and G. They were set to go to English language school in Granada, a city about 3 ½ hours from Chinandega. I had coordinated the trip for them with our language school partner. I hopped on the trip with them to Granada because I wanted to make sure that when they started classes on Monday morning everything was in order – but what I really wanted was for Walter, Julio and G to recognize how importante and how valued they are at Amigos.
So here we are on this, well, “business trip” and we decided upon arriving in Granada that we were going to hustle down to Lake Nicaragua to jump on a boat tour to see the mini-islands that were formed as a result of Volcano Mombacho’s explosion 20,000 years ago. We were chugging along in the lancha admiring the beauty of both the natural islands and the ones that had been built upon that now are the home to beautiful lakeside residences.
Pulling up to shore we disembarked the little lancha that miraculously had carried us through the tour, and even all the way through the part we got suckered into paying extra for which was the monkey isla, and we made our way back to the hotel.
The rest of the night carried us through a tour of Granada – we all crammed into the baby pool at our hotel to have a competition to see who could hold their breath under water for the longest, we went to try out a Nicaraguan micro-brewed beer, had a family-style dinner that left us all good and full and continued strolling around the small but beautiful town of Granada. The whole day we were by each other’s sides.
As I said, my goal is that these guys, who all work Monday through Friday hosting incredible experiences for our Mission Trips, who go to class all day Saturday and who catch up on life on Sunday, would feel relaxed and could enjoy themselves. As the night started to wrap up we found ourselves sitting on the stairs of the San Francisco Church reflecting on the day, on each other and where we were going as friends and as a team. In that moment, as all of us laid back looking at the sky, I realized our relationships had grown so incredibly strong and our conversations were so vulnerable because it had finally clicked for all of us.
No longer was I, Danny from the States who is going to start to have a bigger influence on our team or was Julio, Julio who offers incredible English classes to kids on Saturday afternoons or was Walter, Walter who always perfectly has the logistics at work set up or was G, G who gets up at 3am on Saturdays to travel to school because he has to make sacrifices because no one supports him – we saw each other just as we are, as people.
What was the ingredient for becoming so close that Sunday evening? All we needed to do was to truly see each other for what we are: people. I’ve seen this happen over and over and over again here: We see people as they truly are, as people and our guard is dropped, our relationships flourish, and we grow closer juntos.
From a team perspective this is really important that we could get closer, but taking a more realistic look at the situation, as Christians this is super important. Jesus is the prime example of seeking out humanity to ensure that others felt their worth and to model how we can develop relationships to support, encourage and grow each other.
Thank you, people – for being people. It’s really a pleasure doing life together.
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example.
Back in 7th grade we took a whole afternoon in class to research the Saint that would be best and suite us most accurately to be our Confirmation Saint. There weren’t that many of us in class, but our teacher encouraged us not to pick the same name. So here we were, frantically trying to come up with: A. A cool name, B. A saint that was the patron to something we liked, were good at or that interested us, and C. Someone that was unique that no one else had picked. So I raced through a couple articles that were out and settled on St. Sebastian. To be explicit, he seemed like a real bad ass… but I was promptly discouraged by those around me because he was the Patron Saint of Athletes, and… well, I wasn’t considered the most athletic of my whole grade school class. So I, tail between my legs, shuffled back to my desk and quickly settled, instead, on St. Gabriel, meaning “God has shown Himself mighty”.
Fast-forward to August 11th, 2015, 10 years after the whole St. Sebastian catastrophe and I was preparing for my first day as the soccer coach for the kids in La Chuscada. Not only am I running drills, teaching technique but I’m also working on the leadership development of the teens in the community so they can take the reins and run with the program.
As I sat with one of the youth, Ramon, during lunch and before practice started, we were talking about what it meant to be a servant leader. He was giving me a few examples, and was nervously mumbling through ideas for the first charla he was going to give before practice that day. Before each practice, we’re going to give a little charla or talk, about teamwork, kindness, importance of communication, etc. for our kids. Ramon, already uneasy, continued to be interrupted by two kids, Camila and Oscar, who were with us at the house where we were eating lunch.
Camila and Oscar ran around the yard and raced as fast as they could back to the hammock to see who got there first… but the same thing happened over and over. Camila and Oscar would sprint, but by the time they reached the hammock there was never a winner because Camila would throw a fit about how dirty her feet and sandals had gotten while running through the dust. Without hesitation, they’d sit down on the hammock and Oscar would take off Camila’s sandals, dusk off her feet, then her shoes and slip them back on, without uttering a word of complaint, so they could play again. After the 3rd time it happened Ramon and I both turned around, and watched the whole event unfold again. They ran around like crazy, laughing and goofing around but right as the moment came when Camila realized she’d gotten her feet all dirty, she shrieked with anxiety, and Oscar propped her legs up on his knee and attentively treated her with care, attention and focus.
I turned back to Ramon and told him not to worry about how good we were at soccer, how much we knew about drills or what the words we had to say during the charla were- but to remember that God has shown Himself mighty through the witness of Oscar’s simple, humble gesture and that is exactly the model of servant leadership we need to model to the kids. Turns out, I didn’t need St. Sebastian to be my confirmation saint to end up on the soccer field, I just needed to trust that God would continue to show Himself and His love through each person around me to remind me how to treat los demás without thinking twice. I’ll wait a couple years to tell Oscar how much I appreciated him walking me through my first day as a soccer coach, and that his humble servitude is the model I’ll strive to exude to him and his compañeros de clase each Friday.
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value | challenge | equip
To be honest with you, I think it has taken me until today to sit down and share these thoughts because I simply never had the vocabulary to accurately describe the impact living in Nicaragua over the past year+ has had on me. More than anything, I want this to serve as a huge gracias for your initial and continued support, I can't imagine being, working or starting my adulthood in any other place on earth- thank you. I had the opportunity last week to watch some really enriching messages from folks through the Willow Creek Leadership Summit. The message that spoke the most clearly to me and that, as I mentioned, gave me the vocabulary to put my feelings and thoughts into words was by Albert Tate called "Leading with Leftovers". Not only those that know me best, but pretty much anyone who has sat down for a meal with me knows that leftovers are just not part of my routine. I take a plate of food pretty seriously, and leaving leftovers crosses my mind rarely. But on the same note, I take all the activities, responsibilities and relationships that I've put on my plate really seriously as well... At the end of the day I hate seeing that I've left a friendship untouched for a while, or that I didn't make myself get up to go for a run with a friend or that I simply didn't speak up in a meeting when I know I should have. Tate, in his message, reminds us of the time Jesus was gathered with 5,000 of his closest pals and how they all broke bread and ate fish together. He focused on one specific part of the story, and that was on the boy who offered 2 fish and 5 loaves of bread to the mix and then disappeared into the crowd. Let's all step into the shoes of this boy for a second. I can perfectly imagine myself having my make-your-own pizza lunchable packed up in my backpack headed to an oversized picnic to hang with some friends when I stumbled into a panicked conversation about some folks being in need of food, offering what I had and then running off and then continuing on with life. But what this example realistically looks like for me is that when I moved to Nicaragua, I stacked up all my dreams, hopes, fears, relationships, goals, knowledge and naivety on a plate, asked for your support then offered it to support the world. This image by no means says that we throw stuff Jesus' way and wait for a response, not at all... rather it's suggesting we recognize how much we can give, put it in "Jesus' hands" by trusting Him with life and then be amazed by the work He does with us. Tate describes the moment in which we offer up our lunchable, loaves of bread and fish, or our lives, as allowing our scarcity to become an abundance for Jesus... When we put what's on our plate in front of Jesus and step back that's when miracles start to happen because we are giving room for others to do the same. From our giving we are ultimately going to realize we are left with leftovers, lessons and memories maybe, and cherishing those is key. Of course I haven't mastered this offering yet, but from what I have done I've learned a ton, and what I to share what I've learned with you. Over the past 14 months I have recognized that: I am valued, challenged and equipped. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't put value on my dreams... you recognized that what I had in my head and heart was going to be put into action and that it was going to be fruitful. As a team member at Amigos I am valued... I have folks checking in on me, and I know going to work every day that people are going to respect and watch out for me. As a neighbor I realize that the conversations I have everyday are telling me that those around me value my time and me as a person because they want to get to know me. As a friend I am valued because I have been taken in like family here, being invited to weekly family dinners and including in birthday party plans for my friends' kids... it's a small thing, but it has made Nicaraguan my home. A lot of folks ask me what living here in Nicaragua is like and my first answer is: there is something every single day that challenged me to be better. It can be the Spanish language, having to research and prepare for a talk I don't know a lot about, cultural understanding, learning how to be a good co-worker or friend, overcoming the heat or living with little resources. Life's challenging, and it was highlighted in my first year out of school and at work. But more than anything else, I am challenged to realize my potential and then doing all that it takes to make turn that potential into a reality. I couldn't believe the first few months of working that someone actually could be hired with 0 experience... and that someone was me. I felt very inadequate, and still do at times, but now realize that I need to find ways to equip myself to do the work I'm doing, or accept the ways others are equipping me with tools to do great. After only being here for a month or 2 my team made me, and I say made me because I wanted nothing to do with it, give a talk about showing respect to our children to one of our leadership programs for mothers in Mina de Agua. I am not: a parent, a mother, living in a household that only makes $2 a day or Nicaraguan... How am I credible? I'm not. I gave the talk because my team knew I was equipped to care for the well-being of the women... and the information I was sharing was just a means to let them know I cared about them. But... just as the kid had his Happy Meal stored away and then shared it, I've realized more and more over the past couple months that I can't be valued, challenged and equipped if I'm not also giving value, challenging and equipping those around me. Amigos does a bunch of really good stuff. We have projects in 17 communities, impacting the lives of thousands of people through our water, health care, education and economic development teams but what we do best is remind people how much they are valued in this world and that's why we are doing what we are doing. When I am asked about my job now I just say that everyday, no matter what task or activity I'm doing I try to encourage others' potential. That is to say, I want to challenge them to achieve everything they are capable of and to see dreams become a reality. It's the best job in the world, all the work I do is just an outlet to allow others to feel encouraged. Within Amigos I try to equip others to carry out the mission of the organization, to offer life changing experiences to everyone that comes in contact with Amigos for Christ. With my coworkers and everyone else I want to equip them with tools to make those said dreams above become real life. I am exactly where I am supposed to be, and I am grateful for you and for your support of that. Tate suggests that we can lead well, without exhausting ourselves because when we give what's on our plate, miraculously we will have something else on there that we can nourish ourselves with, and that we need that nourishment. That idea clicked so well with me because I realize the importance of the balance of offering and receiving now. I'm looking forward to offering what I have and to continue to value and be valued, challenge and be challenged, and equip and be equipped. Thank you for being a part of what I'm doing, in work and in life, it's awesome to be able to share with you.
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to walk.
So I can be a radical thinker, feeler and doer at times. I had a moment a few Lents ago, when I was still living in Kansas City, and a radical thought popped into my head: I was going to go 40 days without wearing any shoes. It seemed perfect- what a great sacrifice... to bop around town just me and my two feet that I was born with. The more I thought about it, the idea transitioned from being radical to ridiculous. And it has maintained ridiculous since that moment, but an idea that I've begun to think up, feel often and act upon is the idea that indeed, I need to carry through life with shoes on my feet... But it is stepping into the shoes of others that guides me and that will continue to guide me exactly where I need to go. Just last week I spent an evening in laughter, conversation and under the stars in La Chuscada. The occasion was to experience the Chuscada life alongside people I care about and who care deeply for me. We, as an organization and the community, had the opportunity to spend time with two very generous architects- and more than that very good friends of mine. They worked to design a new school that will be built in the next couple years. This occasion to spend an evening in Chuscada was birthed from their desire to conocer the community better and more authentically. So, there we found ourselves... sitting in hammocks, eating tortillas, quajada and crema, looking up at the clearest stars that there's even been, and enjoying life together. We had a great time being together, taking a long walk as the sun set through the community and throughout whole evening. But what struck me most was the moment I stepped into the shoes of a group of people that have become like family to me here in Nicaragua. The community's water system had been stalled up for the day because a new energy source that was being put in, so we were left with the water we had in our bottles. As we passed around the last bottle filled with water, our host for the evening, a 53 year old mother and grandma, Doña Gloria looked me in the eyes and said- "Danny, now you've lived how my family and I lived our entire lives before the clean water arrived". We maintained a strong eye contact and I responded- "... well I'm grateful... I'm very grateful". I didn't live that struggle fully, not even enough to have scratched the surface. But what I lived was a moment where I stepped into her shoes, or any member of her family: Beto, Rosario, Marvin, Gloria, Naomi, Nazareli, Anita, Carla or Marvincito. And that moment, that shared dialogue, cleared my vision to comprehend, in a different way, this radical reality of stepping in someone else's shoes and learning how to walk alongside of them.
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i'm an adventurer looking for treasure.
I’m an adventurer looking for treasure.
My mom loves telling a story that involves a classic Easter egg hunt. The goal was simple: pick up as many eggs as possible. The execution, well, is what seemed to be problematic. I’m sure we had something like 20 minutes to go scramble around the parking lot, dig underneath hay that had been laid down the night before, or to look behind trees or between bushes to find our the prized Easter eggs that all held a little treat. Although the story has been told so many times, I always zone out when she talks about who got how many eggs. I can never remember if my sister found almost all of the eggs and I had absolutely none… or even worse if I ended up with one or two eggs that someone pity slipped in my basket while I wasn’t looking. I’m sure at the end of that day I ended up with some sweet treat in my belly… but I’ve never been concerned about what I picked up that day- because I know that I’m an adventurer looking for treasure… and I’ve come to realize that it isn’t going to come in the form of a plastic eggs with a rolled up dollar bill or a few jelly beans inside… rather, I’m striking gold with each moment that I am lucky enough to be a part of and in the people that I am sharing life with here in Nicaragua.
This morning I stood dazed, staring down the hallway at Eddy with his wife, Dolmun with his wife, Carlos Alberto with his son, Dolores with her cousin, Juan with his wife and Aura de Maria with her daughter. I had a walker in one hand and the therapy exercise pamphlets in the other while my heart pumped out of chest. My eyes scanned up and down the hallway but over and over again my focus landed on Aura de Maria and her sweet daughter.
There they were, earlier throughout the week, in the 95-degree, dark and mosquito friendly hallway after getting kicked out of their recovery rooms because the rooms needed to be occupied with 8 more recently operated patients. Aura de Maria was laying on her back with her eyes closed despite the tears streaming down her cheeks as her daughter slowly and gently pumped her leg back and forth to stretch out her new knee. I was lucky this entire week to be a part of a medical brigade we had here and to shadow over the best physical therapist there is so that I could translate for her. Tracy’s love and support for her patient’s was astounding, but her ability to share those tools with others is what moved me the most. I witnessed her enabling others to come alive so that they could treat their loved ones as they deserved. After getting a total knee replacement, we shared with Aura de Maria how important her therapy was going to be for her recovery and her daughter stood behind us with open ears. Day in and day out, I walked past Aura de Maria, sweating profusely, moaning in pain and praying that the Lord would lift up that pain and take it away from her, with her daughter sitting as close to the bed as she possibly could. Each time, her daughter would look up at me, smile and squeeze her mom’s hand as a sign of support.
Nicaraguans love so well. Nicaraguans care so well. And with those combined, Nicaraguans teach so well. After thinking back on our week, I cannot shake Aura de Maria or her daughter out of my heart or head. I think about the trials they faced together. I think about the sleepless nights they went through together. But most readily, I think to that moment today that I stood in the hallway, overcome with emotion, as my eyes focused in on Aura de Maria taking her first tearless steps – and I think about the smiles that were smeared across both of their faces while they were doing it. As I stood there, my heart raced because I saw love light up the hallway. My heart raced because I realized in that moment, her daughter hadn’t just had her ears open to listen to how she could prepare her mom to succeed, but her whole self had been open to how she could best serve and care for and love for someone who meant so much to her.
That Easter, years ago, speaks well to the kind of treasure that I’m on an adventure for- it might not have come to me that day in the form of sweet treats or a pocketful of petty cash… but today it came in the real, actual, tangible fortune that is born from seeing raw love be put into action.
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santito.
It's so easy to look back on when I was a little kid and think about all the fun I had. Whether it was going to the pool every day of the summer, taking trips to Six Flags, playing with Furbies or going over to friends' houses after school- it was a blast. But nothing marks my history as boldly as the walks I took with my Nana throughout the early years of life. I remember the excitement I had as we stopped and look at the "Halloween bug" that so mysteriously showed up with orange and black spots or when we would slowly stroll passed the neighbors yard to sufficiently assess the best procimmons that would could pick up and snack on as we continued but more than anything I remember the burst of energy I felt every time she wanted to do something with me. I learned what respecting someone that I cared about looked like. I learned how to accompany her as we wandered the streets of my neighborhood. Although I'm still a jovencito, or a young one as they say here... I think I am beginning to get glimpses of what it looks like to see the joy on a kids' face from simply spending time with them and making them feel important just as I felt years back.
To be able to respect, follow and model ourselves after someone in our lives is a unique opportunity... And it's an opportunity that I wish all youth to have. I have realized time and time over again how each word I speak, or step I take has influence over myself and others- whether it's good or bad. But that influence has greeted me face-to-face time and time over again here with one simply act.
The Nicaraguan culture offers so many things that I have come to love. The many quirky ways that people describe things, phrases that they say and food that they eat but the thing that I've attached onto most is the way kids show respect to folks they care about, that are older than them. Kids here, when they greet someone they care deeply for- and at the same time offer to them a visual and tangible sign of respect and they fold their hands and say "santito", meaning holy one.
Seeing as the I have the opportunity to serve on the community development side of things, understanding culture has been on of my biggest priorities. But on a personal level, having positive influence over those around me has had the highest importance all along... and a simple sign of respect has shown me the closeness in which I've come to know with families in various communities but especially in La Chuscada.
Doña Gloria's family take me in like one of their own- and always greet me with such hospitality. They toss a seat my way when I walk into their front patio, treat me to a bag of ranchitas and a cold Coca-Cola or when I'm lucky a tortilla with a nice chunk of quajada on the side. But what feeds me and comforts me the most are when her grandkids: Naza, Naomi, Gloria, Marvincito and Ana run up, hands folded and extended saying: "Santito Danny"... And each time I smile and respond to each of them, "Santito mi corazoncito, Santito mi amor, Santito mi hija, Santito pipe and Santito chavalo"- recognizing each other them individually with a little nickname... and when I see the energy jolt into their heart through the smile on their face
I know that life's all about people picking up, walking alongside of somebody and learning what life is like through their eyes and in their hearts. Just as Nana took me all around my neighborhood to share life and make memories, I know that favor is being passed along to folks here. I know that I have a lot to learn, a lot to see and many ways to grow- but I also know that Nicaragua has taught me how to show respect in a deeper way and receive the little "holy ones" with nothing but gratitude and joy.
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humility.
Although there is no school infrastructure over their heads, no faucet with running water for them to share, and desks and white boards are stored in a neighboring house to the plot of loose dirt they are teaching on, three teachers: Dania, David and Santa Matilde not only transform the lives of their 50 students day in and day out in La Chuscada but also transformed my heart in one morning.
It's been a prayer of mine for many years, and I even felt slightly uncomfortably sharing it with you, to become a more humble human being. In my life I have been surrounded by some incredible people. Really incredible people. I've taken things to heart from each place I've been and each friendship has deepened my sense of how to love. In my greatest friendships I have always yearned to echo in their words and ways of humility. There are so many examples of times I've had humbling experiences and especially living and working here in Nicaragua when I have walked side by side people taking steps into a deeper place of humility. Noting all this, I've never been able to put a face to the name of what humility is. I've never been able to easily word how to live humbly enough to have my simple mind grapple with the words in a productive and legitimate way.
But, I've also decided "never" doesn't fit my vocabulary well anymore. The faces are clearing up and my words are flowing more readily. Despite researching, talking to others and praying about humility a few words were shared with me recently that perfectly bring the pieces of the puzzle together. Humility doesn't mean thinking less of ourselves, it means thinking of ourselves less... Not thinking less of myself | yourself | themselves | ourselves. Thinking of myself | yourself | themselves | ourselves less. And when that happens, the world continues to rotate- just in a more transformative way.
Sitting with Dania, David and Santa Matilde, in an empty dirt lot next to a couple houses in the middle of community, we began to have a conversation about their hopes and desires for their new school Amigos is in the middle of constructing right now. They spoke of the immense struggles they have with multi-grado clases (multiple grades in one classroom) and how they have have so much prepared and feel so able to equip their students with great knowledge but the opportunity is being suffocated by, in all reality, the material poverty of their school and the community it pertains in. A coworker of mine encouraged the teachers to express their desires of what they would like to see in the classroom the next year and how we can help make their year easier as an organization. I saw the frustration on their faces and I felt the disappointment through the trembling of their voices. But, most importantly, their humility existed to transform. Dania began talking to us about the end of the year, and how much she cares for her 4th, 5th and 6th grade class. Her calm yet confident voice expressed her great desire for their academic and personal success, but also the importance of them just plain-old, simply, being kids.
As she was describing how classes fall behind because it's hard to keep everyone on the same page, she slowly unzipped her backpack and pulled out a small piñata she had brought to school to share with her students... I could see that it broke her heart to not being able to share this with them and feeling like she wasn't completing all she needed to do. But as that happened my heart tightened and my eyes got foggy. It was in that moment that she thought of herself less and put each of her students in the forefront of her mind. She spent, of her own very small paycheck, money to tell those kids that they mattered. Her sacrifice, unrecognized as a sacrifice, shattered my perception of what 'thoughtfulness' could look like. She wanted them to know that it didn't matter if they didn't have a roof over their heads or a class for each grade but that they deserved to celebrate their achievements and that they deserved to be celebrated as kids. That moment has played over in my head hundreds of times since then- and it's because she pulled me into her world of thinking the best for others above any other thing I could imagine.
As I sit here the name humility matches with the faces of my heroes out there in the world. It matches with the faces of those who don't think less of themselves rather think of themselves less.
Here's to pulling each other into that very real world of humility.
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un milagro.
I can very specifically remember sitting in awe, as an 8 year-old when I first heard the story of one of Jesus’ miracles: the multiplication of the bread and fish. I thought long and hard about how that could have physically happened… surely the bread didn’t just start reproducing and the fish didn’t follow suite. It was impossible to picture and understand how people could be so full with that amount. But it was such a great story that everyone who was hungry left filled. I’ve never been an extremely analytical person so I didn’t break my brain trying to place all the pieces of the puzzle.
Part of our goal as an Education team is to eliminate obstacles to attendance and promote student achievement in rural schools here in Nicaragua. Part of our plan of action to successful do that has lead us to offer simple classes, or “charlas” on values in the classroom during the last hour of school once a week. Welcoming us into their schools each week, the students have expressed so much joy and acceptance. The charlas have varied from topics such “Telling the Truth” to “Showing Respect” to “Being Different is Okay” to our theme this week “Share”. This theme fell at a unique time: Jack Herrmann was visiting us here Nicaragua. It was an opportunity for me to share with him, who is for all intensive purposes like a little brother to me, what life looks like here, why I have fallen in love with the Nicaragua culture and what the daily grind feels like. So here I am, not only sharing this theme of “Share” with 50 students throughout Nicaragua this week, but I am living it in every moment with Jack. Whether it was spending time with Julio, Jaime and Jack on the side of the Panamerican Highway eating some Nicaragua grub called nacatamles, or Jack and I were climbing to the highest peak in Nicaragua, to the top of San Cristóbal Volcano or sitting around the dinner table with Alex and Jack enjoying the Spanglish questioning and answering. Each moment was an opportunity to share.
Nicaraguans have a really beautiful way of sharing, and something that I shared with each the classrooms that I was in was that I learned what “sharing” meant here in their country. I learned that when I have something to eat, everyone else around me deserves to have a piece of that. I learned that when I have good news, I should share that with someone to bring joy to him or her. I’ve learned that when there is pain, people want that to be shared with them so that the burden isn’t so heavy.
We were sitting in a circle in Valle los Morenos talking about what sharing meant, and it was my turn to talk. I shared with the circle of 15 kids that Jack showed me what sharing meant because out of all the things he could have done on his fall break, he chose to spend a chunk of money, give up time with his friends, put himself in a vulnerable position to experience life here with me. I then started to think about the ways I felt like I had shared my life in Nicaragua with Jack this week, but all the ways that others had gone out of their way to share with him stuck out even more- and I got it. That story of the “bread and fish”, that marvelous story or feeding the masses made sense. With everyone we came in contact with, Jack and I shared our food, our time, our stories, our goals, laughs… really everything we could- and although bread and fish didn’t multiple in front of my eyes, hope did. Because extravagant love always leaves an aftertaste of lasting hope.
It was the same thing in the story of Jesus, he shared and people left filled- I made note of what sharing meant this week, time and time again, and that if we are mindful of sharing love extravagantly, anywhere that we are, the taste of real, significant, hope is left in the hearts of each and every one of us. The puzzle pieces fell together and it is a beautiful view.
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and go...
Although I don't remember the temperature of the day, the clothes I was wearing or the bumpiness of the road, I will always appreciate the thrill that accompanied the wind blowing in my face on the the first day I rode my bike without training wheels. I can confidently say the fact that my sister, age 6, and I, a mere 4 years old, took off my training wheels on our own, was a miracle. What came next was even more shocking, I just took off- cruising down my childhood barrio. Needless to say this day marks a real peak for me, both handyman wise and athleticism... that I have yet to build back up to. Despite the fact that learning to ride a bike was a skill attained over 18 years ago, it's being put into action day in and day out here in Nicaragua. I ride my bike to work, I ride my bike to the fritanga to buy dinner and I've even learned to ride my bike with someone else on the handle bars (this is not a joke and is almost a feat of physics seeing as I've accomplished it, ask me for those stories if you're jonesin' for a good laugh). But more than anything, riding my bike ushered in the most influential, humbling and hilarious day that I've had living here in Chinandega. Alex, a Nicaraguan hermano of mine, had suggested months ago that any challenges that came along with my transition would be eased by getting to spend time with his family and friends. As we continued to keep up with each other before I moved, we reminded each other of this agreement. So, on Sunday, I rode over to Alex's calle, met his 3 best friends: Conejo, Miguel and Aldo, who he grew up with, and we took to the streets of Chinandega. I told them I wanted to see new parts of the city that I probably hadn't seen before so we rode and rode and rode. We went to the outskirts of the city, we rode through a market I had never seen and even took time to revisit familiar spots. As we pulled up to the park, I started slowing down only to realize my back tire had popped. I told the guys that just 2 days before I had replaced that part because it popped then and Miguel without hesitating grabbed my bike and started riding with it alongside of his bike to get it repaired. This is just a small example of the way in which these guys cared for me as a friend with such ease... which is something that, while being away from my support system I've relied on for my whole life, was so comforting. After lunch we took to the road, rode and rode and rode until we pulled up to a house. We passed through the barbed wire fence to have Alex introduce me to his mom. The culture here encourages a relaxed manner and going with the flow so before we arrived at her house, I didn't ask where we were going, but I'm happy that I didn't. It was a real pleasure to be surprised by where we showed up, and grateful for Alex's desire to really show me what's most important to him. As we rode back to my neighborhood, Monserat, I reflected on the simplicity, yet great profundidad, that filled my time with Alex, Conejo, Miguel and Aldo. It was good to get to hang out, be challenged in my Spanish and make some good memories. But it was also good to have Alex act on his word he had made me with months before about introducing me to the people who meant the most to him. The feeling of joy, thrill and freedom all filled me up as I hopped on the bike and road through the once unfamiliar streets of my new home. This experience reminded me that there are other places that are soliciting me to remove the training wheels and just take off... so I think that's just what I'll do.
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miles together.
I stood peering out from the back of a pick-up truck with Abram, Alex, Moises, Cocero and Randy, in a fresco Nicaragua breeze, and the reality and normalcy of living here sunk in. As we rode along, the rope, attached to a broken down truck (that we had been riding in just 30 minutes before) snapped over and over again. Although towing this broken down vehicle was an obvious inconvenience none of us were bothered, frustrated or anxious about this delay. We had gone out in the truck to pick up Abram from his house a few miles away and we were on a hunt for more plastic chairs to bring back to the vela of Randy’s mom who had just passed away earlier that day.
It’s a Nicaraguan tradition to all meet at the house of person who has passed away to show support, spend time together and really just be in community. Hundreds of people come and go from the vela, which extends all the way through the night and until dawn, then into the morning when the burial process begins. I learned that family and friends go out early in the morning to dig the grave for the person who has passed away, once again offering support to the family during their time of loss. Coffee, sweet bread and rice and beans circulate in and out of the crowd throughout the evening as tradition calls for. As more people walked up to the house and filled up the block we decided to go pick up our co-worker Abram and find some chairs to offer people a spot to sit.
Jury is still out on what happened to the truck we were driving, a strange amount of smoke all of a sudden started bellowing out from the cabin so we promptly got out of the truck, called a co-worker, and waited to get picked up… it was while we were waiting I realized how fortunate I am to join in on this Nicaragua community. As we stood around, Randy started recounting to us about his mom’s last day with him, what he was doing, and how she passed away and how he was happy that she no longer had to suffer. Us guys that were there are definitely big jokesters and like to give each other trouble, but I was great to see that when the time came to show support, we were all ears- ready to offer a word of care to him. The real gift here was time. Each of us dropped what was planned for the night, as did the hundreds of people who funneled in and out of the vela to simply give of their time- it looked as if people sat and had normal conversations, laughed, and played games, but the key is that we were offering their time to tell our friend we cared.
This experience made me think a lot about how we each individually share our support for each other. I see that support from my friends here in Nicaragua as I begin my transition to living here and I just as much see that support from each person in the States, in a million different ways but especially through my preparation and further their interest in how and what I am doing now that I am here in Nicaragua.
My experience at the vela was an important reminder of the miles friends and family are willing to go for each other and the gift of time that they are willing to give…whether it is 2,500 miles away or just 3 blocks down in the same barrio. For all the time that you’ve given me, thank you.
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great adventure.
The spontaneity that comes along with traveling is enticing me, at this point in my story, to seek a life with great adventure. After being reminded by these simple words: "wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow" I started to reflect on / reminisce over and almost relive the different places I've traveled to and had the opportunity to come to know and appreciate. I think back to these places: Wisconsin, Fripp Island, SC, Milwaukee, Chicago, San Francisco, Omaha, NE, Oregon, Washington D.C., Atlanta, Anna Marie Island, FL, Naples, FL, Arlington, TX, Little Rock, AR, Denver, CO, Carmel, CA, The Red Wood Forest, Big Sur, Kansas City, Reynosa, Mexico, Ecuador, Nicaragua and all of St. Louis. Each of these trips has offered me something- just as I have offered each of these places something. It could have been Fripp Island offering me a pretty wicked sun tan (..... or burn probably), or Kansas City offering me a place to be a college student for 4 years or me going to Atlanta on a whim for an Amigos Family Reunion. It brings real joy to me when I think back on these places, regardless of if there was pain throughout the experience- because I recognize it has helped form me, change me, and mature me.
The more and more I thought about these places I've traveled and how thrilling each adventure was- I couldn't help but be reminded of the thrill that my everyday adventure has been, especially during this time I've spent preparing to move to Nicaragua. These daily joys have taken shape in several ways, whether is was drinking a smoothie in the backyard with my mom, going for an evening jog with the people who I feel great peace around, warming my feet and watching embers rise into the sky after a late swim, doing sprints at my old high school with great encouragers, running errands, drinking beer and watching fútbol with friends, or just simply looking into the sky during the nighttime as I walk to the car.
Although I've been praying about this move (even though I didn't know my prayer to God 5 summers ago asking to keep the people of Nicaragua in my life would mean I would live there...) for a really long time, I am really now realizing that my everyday adventure will look a little different, sound a little different and feel a little different. But what's incredible about this change that will be coming my way, is that each person I've walked through life with is being carried with me. Each lesson I've learned, hug I've received and smile I've remembered is a part of me and my life as I move forward into living in Nicaragua.
Although I am still and will forever be a hopeful adventurer, it's a real joy to realize that the wherever I go, whether it's abroad, to a different city, on a hike, to a mountain or a beach, to my favorite poolside, in my backyard or at home, it is becoming a part of me- making me realize exactly who I need to be in this world. At this time next week I'll be en route to my little blue home in Chinandega, Nicaragua, ready for the adventure that lies ahead of me- let's keep spreading Love and making memories, amigos.
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above my head.
After these words ended up on my lap today, I was able to see and feel in a profound way: "Miro sin ver lo que ya he visto".. "I look without seeing what I've already seen". While loosely [ second-semester senior status ] researching a topic for a speech, these words came through my email, onto my computer, across my vision and into my heart because a friend of mine was equally struck by them many miles away as she studies in Spain. This imagery of "seeing" has struck a chord in me and amongst various friends of mine which has led to an opportunity of sharing with each other. We came to the conclusion that we can't just look- we have to see, because it's in the deepening of our "seeing" that we take on the lens God's peers through - which sees directly to the heart.
These words connected with me in a significant manner on the same day that they came into my radar. The summer of 2012 offered me many lessons: how to be away from home for an extended amount of time, a deepening of my understanding of the Spanish language, how to be assertive with those around me, more about the Nicaraguan culture- but above all those things: a new way to Love boldly. This bold love greeted me in an unforgettable way as I discovered how to dive into life with a soul shared by another selflessly by my side. This bold love mirrors raw love which seeks to connect souls to each other. That summer, some of the boldest, rawest love that my heart felt was from three niños: Yerlin, Roniel and Randy. We had the opportunity to connect to truly connect with each other. Just as I saw them grow that summer, they saw me come to understand myself more deeply and develop a more intentional way of living. These boys mean the absolute world to me. As I was preparing to come back to school in August 2012, I offered them a picture of the 4 of us together on the beach and in return I was quickly grasping onto three small, cut out pictures of Yerlin, Roniel and Randy from a family photo they had in their house. As they reassured me this evening that the picture was kept safely inside their home, I reminded them that they are with me each day as those three pictures rest in my wallet at all times. Even though I left El Chonco that day in August 2012, and only returned one time over the whole summer of 2013- I felt the power, humility and beauty of this raw & bold love all over again this evening.
I recently obtained their phone number...and although I have been so close to calling many times since I got it in January each time I have let anxiety about my Spanish faltering, or them being upset I didn't get to see them much this past summer, or that the number would be wrong stop me from calling. But tonight was different- my heart yearned to remind these growing boys of my love for them- and the power they hold to continue to change lives. I called...and they weren't there. I chatted with their mom for a couple minutes as she was walking back home and told me the boys should be there so I was to call back in a half hour. I took that time generously and after 45 minutes, the clearest and most recognizable voice greeted me on the other line: Yerlin. My heart pounded as Yerlin passed the phone to Roniel and then Randy, and even faster when Yerlin started reminiscing about the time we went to the beach and other times and then tonight as we sang "Te Amo" together over the phone as I played the song from my computer, and through the excitement in his voice when I told him the bracelet he gave me 2 years ago still had a place on my wrist and wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
Our conversation continued smoothly and then Yerlin asked me something very unique:
"Do you see that star?"
I laughed as I pictured him laying down on their dirt patio, looking up into the sky at the stars and I said,
"Which star, hermanito?"
...he quickly responded,
"Pantera, that big one in the sky."
I shot back,
"Oh yeah, that big one, I know it- I like that we can see the same stars in the sky..."
...and in the warmest tone he offered these words:
"So. The stars. They are what bring us together"
No longer was I watching without seeing what I have seen before. I was seeing what I have seen before. I was seeing the Heart of this world through Yerlin's words and astounding wisdom- and I was seeing the Heart of this world through this bold, raw and clearly everlasting Love that my heart has been gifted with. I recognized that the sky, stars, moon and sun above my head is just another piece that brings up together whether we are in Kansas City, Nicaragua, Chicago, St. Louis, San Francisco, Omaha, Ecuador, Mexico or any place I haven't been able to conocer yet. There was no need to fear the call- but there was a need to live out the urgency to call them this evening, and there is the same need to live out the urgency to see the Heart in all people, places and things as the Lord teaches us to.
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below my feet.
Over the past 3 years as I have reflected and A.s M.y D.reams | have | G.row[n] I have consistently recognized myself on a journey. The lens in which I've seen myself on this journey had shifted and matured. Some words I shared a few years ago speak to this growth: "I know it is really important for me to grow as myself and become who God is calling me to be and Henri Nouwen [roughly] said in one of his books that if we cling on too strongly to what past saints have done we will lose our purpose and chance for sainthood". While I completely agree with this message I shared: that I need to grow as my own person in light of working toward sainthood and not focus too intently on what those have done before me. -Now, I'm aware of a bigger picture- I still search to fully develop into myself as I follow my dreams and not look back: but now...now I also understand that I do not need to be focusing on the future either. I used to think life was about getting somewhere, now I know it's about who we make the journey with. I've asked The Lord, "teach me your paths" and over and over and over again he has used the people closest to my heart, the people who my soul has been so deeply changed and formed by; and His message through these relationships is to "be where your feet are". I recognize that I can neither look backwards or forwards to assess myself- I can only look to my right and to my left along this journey of life to be put into my place to be reminded of the importance of humility, to be encouraged so that I can courageously follow my dreams or to so importantly be joined by living Saints to be taught how to best spread Love. Here I am, where my feet are- for that's exactly where the Lord's path is... It's right here, under my feet, and even though I used to think life was about getting somewhere, finding a specific path, or following in someone's footsteps- now I know it's about who we make the journey with and how much our hearts can be transformed by the act of Love that is accompanied by saints with dreams walking alongside of us.
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yo lucho por ti.
As I intently watched each second of Voces inocentes unfold today in front of me in class, I was struck over and over again by words that were spoken, gestures that were exchanged and messages that transpired through the events of the film. This movie, based from the life of Oscar Torres, journeys through a young boy's struggle for life during the civil war in El Salvador throughout the '80s.
One part, that only lasted 2 or 3 seconds, struck me immediately as Chava (this young boy) was running alongside of a bus and written on the wall that he quickly ran by had written "yo lucho por ti" [I fight for you]. In that very moment I began to think about all the people that I am fighting for. And this fight isn't one of intense violence- it's a fight that's based on the goal... And this one goal is to, on our journey of life, to spread Love along the way to each person we meet. As this happens we create a unit, a family, a community that journeys together with this same shared goal: to spread Love.
The fight doesn't just affect the people I'm closest to, nor just the friends I have met since I began high school or college, nor just the people I've met when I've traveled to México, Nicaragua or Ecuador- no, this fight affects each person I've crossed paths with, and each person they have crossed paths with and each person they have crossed paths with. That's why this fight, this goal, this journey, this shared Love isn't to be kept quiet, hidden or under a bowl (Matthew 5:15), this shared Love is to be moved around with great care and generous zeal- it's this Love that ends wars both in Central American countries and all over the world... But it's also this Love that's ended wars in my heart, and it's this Love that's mended relationships and offered new, fresh and meaningful hope.
As the reality of pain, struggle, jealousy, hate, separation, anxiety and mistrust rise in my life and the lives of those around me- it's comforting to the degree of complete peace to recognize that I am fighting for you... and that I'm being fought for as well. Yo lucho por ti...because the goal is the journey, and this journey aims us towards togetherness; regardless of bumps in the road, detours or risky paths, the journey so simply equates to us spreading Love.
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el camino. la verdad. la vida.
The wilderness. Nature. The raw. Forest. Desert. The sticks. Jungle. Beach. The boonies. A place to be. Whatever name is given to a place of retreat- retreating from the "norm", the routine, the known- it becomes a place of rejuvenation, a place of real truth, a road of real direction and a real life worth really living. Jesus was a pro at hoppin' into the wilderness when He needed it most and John the Baptist was super granola ( wearin' fur, munchin' on honey and bugs and all that stuff). But both these guys express the importance of taking to the road- discovering or rediscovering it.. And them sticking to it. In the new year, really though each and every second proves to be new and offer endless opportunities too- but I pray that I can center myself in the Lord's way and Love. JB is a perfect example: He spent so much time offering people around him, not focusing on himself, a new chance for Life, a chance to truly live and follow a meaningful path through his baptisms. He stated so focused because he stuck to his gut and and trusted the One was coming- and I really think JB had that clarity by his persistence in seeking in the unknown... To paradoxically discover the known. As I continue my walk through the wilderness here in Ecuador- I can't help but take all the time I need to dig through all the good and all the bad that stirs around in my soul. But it's from that I consider how I can best continue to let my dream grow, to Spread Love and live in the juntos movement ( a way of living that acts on the power of togetherness; the belief that together we are more ). I hear: through past memories, sounds of the waves, the strength of the sun, and in the tingle of adventure that Jesus is saying to me, as He did to His disciples, "I am the Road, also the Truth, also the Life... I giving you the same work I've been doing" And it's in those words discovered through the power of adventure into the wilderness that I'm able to grasp living and further loving a bit more fully.
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