nativity.creativity.

the other night, after a time of prayer together, my housemates and i got our creative hats and economical slippers on and cut shapes out of paint color-chips to craft some cards for the people we are connected to here in camden, and here is a glimpse of a few of them. some of them express something about our personal connection with that person, and some of them express my prayer for all of you and all of the world: PEACE.

franciscan.home.makeover.

as part of our commitment to living in community for this year, we are jointly responsible for the general upkeep of the house we have been given. we have a monthly budget that we can divide however we need, to pay for food, gas, some community activities, and necessities for the car and house. one of my housemates in particular has a passion for tackling home improvement projects - and this house needs a lot of them! another housemate has a keen eye for aesthetics, so with those forces combined, using some of our free days and hours, we've been able to accomplish a lot. so far, we have:

- soaked and wiped down all the window blinds and fan blades from around the house to remove years of dust build-up

- stripped the grimy flowered wallpaper off the top half of the kitchen walls

- spackled, sanded, and painted those walls a beautiful, bright, clean white

- peeled the multiple-patterned adhesive layers off of the chlorine-blue faux-tile that is tacked all over the bottom half of the kitchen walls [we have yet to clean those and paint a deep, dusky purple over them]

- spackled and primed the scuffed-up, off-white walls of the dining room

- painted the dining room walls a warm, delicious pumpkiny color called 'falling leaves'

- stuffed steel wool into gaps around the lower edge of the house so that mice can't get in

- spackled the back bedroom and painted over its former shade of 'suave mauve' to a rich, dark-chocolaty hue called 'moroccan henna'

- repeatedly dumped Dran-o down the shower drain to solve our water-staying-in-the-tub problems [currently trying 'El Diablo', some professional drain-unclogging concoction i was handed from the back room of Cartun's, our local hardware store]

- patched up some places in the living room where the wallpaper with the creamy buttery yellow paint over it was peeling away from the wall

- rearranged the living room into a much more inviting setup, and mounted some lovely artwork on the walls

next up:

- cleaning and painting the bottom half of the kitchen

- converting our current storage/recycling room into a nice reading/prayer room

- painting the middle bedroom so that its occupant doesn't have to stare up at neon green all night and look around at uneven white walls all the time

- who knows what we'll come up with after that!

bird.friends.

sing.hello.to.miss.anna.

thirty little voices chime each friday morning as i enter the classroom, "good morning, miss anna!" and we gather in a circle and sing hello to each child in 2nd and 3rd grade as we start music class. next door, in 1st grade, art class is just getting under way, under the guidance of my roommate and fellow Franciscan volunteer. in an hour we will switch classrooms, in an effort to provide every child at St. Anthony's School with weekly opportunities to exercise and develop their skills of creativity and appreciation for art and music.

this is a new, surprising, and surprisingly enjoyable part of my volunteer work now. the other volunteers and i have been meeting regularly with the school principal since the year began, to see when we might start coming into the classrooms, but because of the chaos of new leadership at the school, and a new federally-funded lunch program with mounds of paperwork and logistics to handle, these fine arts classes were simply not a priority. so finally, about five weeks ago, we were able to set up a schedule and start teaching. my roommate teaches all of the art classes, K-8; another Franciscan volunteer, who actually majored in music education, teaches kindergarten and grades 4-8, because those classes take place on Wednesdays, when i am teaching ESL, so i just take over on Fridays.

i'm still trying to learn every child's name; trying to help them remember that one finger means we're using our singing voices, two fingers means we're using our speaking voices, three fingersmeans we're using our whispering voices, and no fingers means we're using our listening (i.e. silent!) voices; and now trying to help them learn their parts for the Advent pageant which is taking place in less than two weeks!

"I, said the donkey, shaggy and brown..." - 1st grade is singing The Friendly Beasts. and the 2nd-3rd grade is performing a rhythmic chant about the journey of Mary and Joseph and their search for a place to stay in Bethlehem.

speaking of a place to stay - this weekend i've been staying with some family friends in Pennsylvania, the first time i've been able to get away and spend quality time with people i know outside of FVM since August. i'm so thankful for their hospitality, which included seeing the movies Gran Torino and Precious [both highly recommended...for open minds and compassionate hearts] and also the opportunity to attend their church this morning, on this first Sunday of Advent. it was refreshing and spirit-encouraging to be able to join my voice in full-bodied harmony with a close-knit, cross-cultural and cross-generational sanctuary-full of people. singing O Come O Come Emmanuel; singing hello and love to God, and peace to each other and the world.

in the coming weeks, may we all find our ways to sing hello, love, and peace to each other, whether with our mouths, our thoughts, or our actions. may we recognize and celebrate the ways we do see light bursting into darkness; love overcoming fear; our eyes opening to see Christ in every face we encounter. may we pray for homeless or hurting hearts finding safe places to stay and be cared for, and may we be willing to be part of that caring however we can. most of all, may we invite the God who Is Peace to sing God's own hello, love, and peace deep inside of us, so that we cannot help but be a loudspeaker for that music of abundant life.

be.the.art.in.me.

here's a taste of the Camden FVMs' most recent homemade community fun night:

- choose your own recipe: take your choice group of adventurers, and sit them down with their computers for 15 minutes to visit www.muralfarm.org and each choose one mural from Philadelphia's 1,500-count-and-growing roster of impressive community art projects

- gather your ingredients: ensure that each adventurer has a working camera, that at least one has a driver's license with them, and that someone has the addresses and directions to the chosen locations

- grease the pan: add gas to car [or, if in Jersey, let the gas station attendant do so]

- turn up the cooking-heat: park and turn adventurers loose at each destination to take pictures of the part or parts of the mural that are somehow personally meaningful or artistically attractive

- stir in some reverence for the 'healing power of music' and other art forms

- shake it up by striving to become part of the muralscape if possible

- let it rise: go home, share some kind of food and a time of silent prayer together, and then share the pictures and the thoughts evoked by them.

- enjoy :)

francis.house.fridays.

the time has come to tell about a typical day at Francis House. although there are really no 'typical' days. i go on Tuesdays, too, and they're also open on Thursdays, but Friday is generally more of a full house, always bringing an unpredictable mix of people and predicaments, but often becoming the highlight of my week.

so here's what happens - or shall we say, here's what could potentially happen if you, my friend, happened to come by this little corner of Camden on one of these days:

10 or 11 am - so you show up at the front gate and spend a few minutes admiring the colorful, meaningful tile mosaics that adorn the front face of the otherwise-plain brick building. So this is Francis House. you go inside, and find a few people sitting in the dining room reading the paper and chatting, some in the living room listening to the parakeets chatter, some hanging around the kitchen checking on the hot lunch cooking, some sitting outside on a picnic bench smoking their cigarettes and chatting – and everyone wants to greet you, say hi, hug you, say “God bless you! How’ve you been? Where you from? Welcome to Francis House!” so, you go back in to the dining room and pour yourself a cup of coffee or grab a can of soda that’s sitting on one of the long tables, and take your pick of the spots and crowds to join in the conversation. and you hear talk about life and weekend plans and weather and public transportation and the Phillies going to the World Series and friends or family who are sick or caught in the drug scene, and about their own stories, the good and the bad, the mistakes and rejections and temptations and the victories and blessings too. you listen, you learn, you are reminded that life is a gift and nothing is more important at this moment than simply being. here. wholly.

12 noon – you hear a bell ringing and a general rumble of people making their way into the dining room, so you join the flow and let your hands be clasped by a new friend on one side and a complete stranger on the other. It’s circle time, goes the group consensus, whispered and shouted and evident in every expectant eye. once everybody is holding hands, you focus in on a solid, fiery-headed woman with her arm in a sling, standing in the middle of the circle, inviting you all to take “deep cleansing breaths”, then introducing all the visitors, volunteers, and people who’ve been away for a while. you hear some calling her “mama”, some “ma’am”, and some “Sue”. So here’s the one who birthed this place and keeps it going and growing under her wings. each introduction is celebrated with handclaps and shout-outs, making sure you feel the love, and you surely do. now it’s time for the real business of circle time: what/who do we need to pray for today? names and news-flashes of concern and thanksgiving burst forth from people’s lips like kernels in a popcorn popper… and when the pace dies down, maybe somebody volunteers to pray spontaneously, or maybe Sue leads out with "Who woke us up this morning?" and everyone joins in praying "God, give us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference. God's will, not ours, be done. Amen Amen!" and the hands on either side of you drop their grip to clap their affirmation. and so do you. thus, the circle breaks off and snakes into the kitchen to line up for the food. only, you realize, you’ve already been fed, somewhere inside where food can’t begin to satisfy.

Once-in-a-lifetime - if you had come last Friday to circle time, you would have witnessed an incredible moment. we were privileged enough to listen to a poem written and read by a lady who has only been coming to Francis House for three weeks, only on Fridays, and yet as she read her poem, i was brought to tears and spirit-shivers by the way she expressed the heart of the mission of Francis House and all we hope for it to be for the people who come here. i looked at Sue in the middle of the circle and saw her eyes welling up, and she saw that i was about to let it leak too, and later as she was hugging me goodbye for the day, she said, "so, you're a wimp, too!" but truly, it was incredible to hear what the Spirit of Love has done in one much-abused, usually-quiet-and-reserved woman as a result of spending just a few hours in this place i am privileged to be a part of. she was showered with a massive outpouring of applause and amen's from the whole circle group, too; everyone knew that she had seen clearly and struck the core of our common experience with her words and her attitude of gratitude for God guiding her to this place. you would have loved it. and maybe you would have given her a hug and thanked her for her poem, and she would have said, “I love you, baby”, and you would have trembled with amazement that you even get to cross paths with such a lady, let alone receive her appreciation or affection. you might be at a loss for words. But that would be okay.

12-something - you finally find yourself at the front of the line, and you help yourself to some hot pasta and sauce or chicken and potatoes or sausage and sauerkraut or some kind of soup and vegetables or whatever they’ve got going on there, and some salad and maybe a breadstick or two. as you head back into the dining room to sit down and share in the meal, you notice that there’s a few who can't get food for themselves, so their plates are being served up and brought to them by another member of the…family, yes, that’s what it feels like…

Around 1 pm – once lunch is over, you may be in for a treat, and i don’t mean the sugar-sweet kind for your tastebuds…i’m talking about some serious ear candy and real endorphin-boosting events here. you, my friend, have been invited to a 'concert' by the original/founding Francis House attendee. as you follow him down the hall to the Francis House chapel, one of us FVMs fills you in on a little background info: he's been living with HIV for 30 years now, since he was 21; he grew up in Camden and Philly, went too far with drugs, went into a coma for 3 months, Sue took care of him, got him back on his feet; now he's living in his own apartment, still needs a lot of help, needs a cane or walker to walk safely, repeats himself a lot and slurs his speech so you gotta listen hard; but his gift, what he loves to do to welcome newcomers to Francis House, is to take them into the chapel, plug in his little boombox he carries everywhere, pop in a disc of Marvin Gaye or Barry White or Stevie Wonder or Michael Jackson, and sing along with all his soul. and this is what graces your senses for the next half hour or so as you sit in the first pew row facing this marvel of a man who is currently sprawled on the green felt carpet on the front step of the chapel. some of the tracks skip and scratch, and some he fast-forwards past to get to his favorites, but each one truly is a gift from his heart to yours. and you’ll know when he’s wrapping up because he’ll put on an instrumental track and talk to his little audience, asking you how you liked 'the show', telling you straight out that it was 'awesome' and that he's 'the best! I’m the best! I’m the best!’ and you lean forward and listen closely when he starts telling some cautionary stories from his turbulent life, some crazy true shit [sprinkled liberally with many such descriptions because they’re really the only ones that fit], and you’re like, This guy did WHAT!?! WHAT THE?!? but you hear him, too, saying how blessed he is, and how he’s done with all that, and you might even hear him give a shout-out to how much he loves us FVMs, how we're his 'crew', how God is good to him and gave him this calling to be a blessing to Francis House. and at some point Sue or somebody pokes their head in to say that his ride is there to pick him up, or maybe just to say “enough’s enough! Get back in here with everybody else!” and so you watch as the boombox and CDs get shoved back in his bag, as he juggles his long legs back up to standing position, and as he shuffles along out of there, leaning heavily on his walking-aid device of choice. you wonder, How does it feel? What does he need? What does anybody need? but all you know is you needed that. and you will never listen to those songs the same way again. and again, you’ve been nourished somewhere you didn’t even know you needed to be.

2 pm or so – it’s closing-up time for Francis House, and you see people making the rounds for hugs, zipping up their jackets and gathering up their bags of leftovers or personal care items or whatever they needed to take home. you wave them off with a sigh that could mean anything in the world. on your way out, Sue wraps you in a hug that’s like – oh. that’s what it feels like to be hugged by God in Momma form. and you know you’re not the first to think that. and you want to learn how to love like that. and you will. because God. loves. you.

Amen.

waterfalls.and.falling.leaves.

Ricketts Glen State Park:

- site of our community fun outing yesterday

- about a 3-hour drive each way, which i drove, marveling at Pennsylvania's epic rolling landscape and luscious autumn colors

- home of 22 waterfalls along a 7-mile hiking trail, which we hiked at our own unique pace in the midst of many other individuals making their way through the rain-showery day

- a much-needed immersion in the glorious spirit-nourishing wilderness: the eye-dazzling sculpture of rocks and boulders; the rich red-orange-yellow-brown brushstrokes of the leaves on trees, on the ground, and swirling in the air; and the surround-sound joy-bursting music of water, wind, and birds!

- i miss it already :)

feasting.for.peace.

so, this past weekend i experienced a major milestone in the Franciscan calendar and in the life of the parish of St. Anthony of Padua here in Camden: the Transitus and the Feast Day of St. Francis.

the Feast day was on Sunday, Oct. 4, so all three morning masses were dedicated to celebrating Francis' life and example to us as a lover of Christ, people, and all living things. afterwards, many people brought their pets to the front steps of the church to receive a prayer of blessing from the priests - what a lively riot of cats, birds, hamsters, and dogs of all shapes and sizes! and what an act of mindfulness and gratefulness to God - this decision to intentionally, publicly dedicate even the animals in the household to the purposes of God, to acknowledge how all living things can point to the beauty and creativity and love of God. even the Francis House birds, which sometimes stink and squawk our ears off... they got blessed that day, and they can be a blessing, too! and maybe by their very helplessness, their constant demand for attention and care and cleanup, they may help us to practice love and cultivate humility...let's hope so!

the Transitus was Oct. 3, this past Saturday. the occasion, commemorating the date of St. Francis' death, was marked by an evening liturgical service. the Bible study group that i have been attending with my fellow FVMs and several families from the church, called Quest, was asked to prepare and lead the service, so i was privileged to participate in:

- welcoming people at the door

- handing out programs and candles to each one

- walking silently and joyfully in the opening candlelight procession into the church

- watching a slideshow/video of the story and sayings of St. Francis as he faced and welcomed his death by inviting his fellow religious brothers to his bedside and encouraging them to love God and be faithful to the Gospel

- listening to the same passage from the Gospel of John 13:1-17, which Francis asked his friends to read to him right before he died

- listening to Deacon Fadi, a Franciscan friar from Jordan, share a reflection about St. Francis' life of peacemaking, particularly his efforts to care for creation and to befriend the Sultan of Egypt in the middle of the Crusades

- eating the fresh, soft roll of bread that was handed to me and to each one there, so we could communally remember and experience the way St. Francis wanted to share abundantly with everyone in need

- introducing the intercessory prayer along with my roommate, Norma, who said: "In the spirit of St. Francis, we pray for peace in the world, in our city, in our church, and in our spirits, by lighting these candles and speaking these words that mean 'peace' in 14 different languages." and then i said: "esta noche, oramos por la paz en el mundo, por la paz en nuestra ciudad, en nuestra iglesia, y en nuestros espiritus, mientras que iluminamos estas velas y decimos estas palabras que significan 'paz' en catorce lenguas diferentes. entonces, en el espiritu de San Francisco y en el nombre de Jesucristo, oramos: paz y bien (spanish), salaam (arabic), shalom (hebrew), amaithi (tamil), shanti (hindi), amani (swahili), mir (russian), hoa binh (vietnamese), he ping (chinese), paix (french), frieden (german), pace (italian), irini (greek), peace." as i said each word, one of the Quest group members placed these prayers for peace in front of a candle and lit it, and when all were said and lit, everyone said together, "Gracious Lord, hear our prayer"

- witnessing the blessing of a relic of St. Francis, which was a small scrap of cloth set in a metal medallion with a clear glass front, which was further set in the center of a gold cross, similar to these pictures:

- holding hands with everyone in the congregation to pray the Lord's Prayer

- shaking hands, hugging, or cheek-kissing everyone who recognizes us FVMs on our way downstairs for the refreshments after the end of the service

- sampling various treats including a home-brewed hot chocolate with cinnamon, cubes of 'pasta de guayaba' (guava jelly/paste) with cheese, pumpkin spice mini-muffins from a local bakery, and a peach jello-cake with cool whip and fresh blueberries on top (made specially by one of my fellow FVMs, with my help frosting and designing the blueberry placement pattern :)

- going home inspired to read more about the life of St. Francis

also on Sunday, i was able to visit the First Baptist Church of Moorestown, a wonderfully welcoming little community, which was celebrating World Communion Sunday. so, the children's sermon featured several baskets of traditional breads from various countries and cultures of the world, and the grown-ups' sermon emphasized the message that even though there are so many different traditions of how to share in the Lord's Supper/Communion/Eucharist/etc, and so many different explanations or doctrines about what actually occurs in that mystery of broken bread and poured drink and human bodies-minds-hearts and God's presence all meeting together somehow...even though all these divisions seem to exist and complicate our existence, still we can meet together, we can share the experience, we can be shaped more and more into the fullness of who God means us to be, to be like Christ, to affirm with our whole beings that there are many kinds of feasting, but "there is one body and one Spirit - just as [we] were called to one hope when [we] were called - one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all." (Ephesians 4:4-6)

what a vision of unity; wholeness; peace. i'll feast to that.

eyes.of.a.child.

the other day i was playing frisbee with my housemates in the park a few blocks down from our house, and once after i passed it i looked over my shoulder, and there was a little boy about three feet high, looking wide-eyed at me with a futbol at his feet. he stared at me for a few seconds, then very calmly yet expectantly kicked the ball to me, so i took a time-out from frisbee to pass the soccer ball back and forth a few times with this audacious chiquito, little boy, before he wandered back to his friends and big brother, and i joined back into the frisbee circle. a few minutes later i glance behind me again and this kid is looking up at me and as soon as i meet his eyes he kicks the ball to me again, and we go through the same little game a few times, on and off again, until it's time for me to go back home. and the whole time i'm thinking, wow, in a neighborhood like this, how is this child still so trusting that he'll spontaneously share his soccer ball with a complete stranger, a grown-up(ish) white lady he's never seen before? how long will it be before that trust fades, gets disillusioned or violated? i mean, in that moment i was blessed somehow with the ability to mostly just savor the joy-drops of that innocent exchange, but now i can't help but wonder - how long before he notices the shattered glass on the sidewalks and the gunshots at night, before he gets offered weed or speed or worse? will his family be able to send him to a good school? will he stick it out and graduate, or will he drop out like 30% of students in Camden have done in recent years? will he find strong friendships among his peers, or will he search for his sense of belonging in a gang? will he gain a sense of accomplishment and adventure from his schoolwork and sports and other creative, constructive activities, or will he seek the darker thrills of getting drunk or high, of defacing neighborhood edifices, setting fire to abandoned buildings, or other destructive paths? how much choice will he feel like he has in the matter? will he be able to find a job? will he go to college? there's certainly hope for him, but also plenty of reasons for hopelessness, i'm learning.

my eyes have been opened to many reasons for these issues by participating in community actions and discussions with a local group called CCOP (Camden Churches Organized for People). i'm going tomorrrow to a church across town to join a troupe of my fellow Camden residents, pastors, priests, Franciscan friars, non-profit workers and volunteers, and children, to meet and dialogue with NJ governor Jon Corzine. here's my very brief, very broad-brushed synopsis of why:

seven years ago, Camden was deemed to be in a state of emergency, and control of the city was taken into state government hands. three years later (four years ago), leadership changed, promises were made, resources were found, and the people thought there might be reason to hope for better things for Camden. but here we are, coming up to another election season, and the leadership has not been accountable, promises have not been kept, resources have not reached the needs, and the people would like to remain hopeful, but the reasons seem few and dim except for our ultimate hope and faith in God's love in the midst of suffering. so, some faith-full citizens are determined to let their voices be heard, to speak up for those in Camden who live in fear and hurt and lack of opportunities. here's the media advisory about it; stay tuned for more about the 'why' and 'what' after it happens.

in the meantime, we pray, pray, pray...and turn our eyes upon Jesus who sees the child inside and the path ahead of all of us...

camden.gets.funky.

last night, for our 'community fun night', we headed over to the Camden waterfront area, which has been developed in recent years with an Aquarium and a Children's Garden and a boardwalk along the Delaware River. browsing for local events online, we stumbled onto this and decided to check it out.

Courier Post online photo

delighted to find free parking just across the street from what promised to be a fantastic free concert, we weren't too fazed by the numerous smashed beer bottles and cases strewn about the lot; we encounter these every day just walking the four blocks between our house and the church. so we made our way down to the crowd at the foot of the Wiggins Park stage, set with a perfect view of the Philadelphia nighttime skyline (pictured above during daylight and below at night). and were pleasantly surprised by the high-energy, wholesome blend of soul/funk/rock/gospel music streaming live from the speakers and infusing the audience with some in-your-face hope-in-spite-of-everything, with the audacity to dance their hearts out or the freedom to lay out on the grass and let the soundwaves wash over them. thanks to the Robert Randolph Family Band, the "most-often-stuck-in-my-head" award these days goes a little like this... "you're a shining star, no matter who you are, shining bright to see what you could truly be..."

just across the water, at the Penn's Landing riverfront area of Philadelphia, free festivals like this are common all summer long. in fact, probably a good portion of the people milling around last night came over via the Ben Franklin Bridge to enjoy one more end-of-summer bash, with a little change of scenery. but in Camden, it is a significant and triumphant step to put on such an event and hope, por favor, that it will happen again next year. and it doesn't solve any of the massive headaches Camden faces, doesn't exactly alleviate poverty or improve education or reduce violence or any of those urgently necessary things, but i do think the presence of events like this is important sometimes. to create space and an environment where people can celebrate the good and the possibilities in life together, or at least escape from some of its stresses and pressures. to rain down a little joy-burst on the dust and busyness of our lives. to remind us of the starlight within...

spanish.crashcourse.coming.up.

so, the sweetest thing happened to me last night right before ESL class - this tiny, well-wrinkled yet wiry Mexican lady comes into the church basement where we have the classes, and we think she's there to register for english class, right? no. she points straight at me, so i come over to her and she wraps me in a giant hug (although she only comes up to my armpits, well maybe shoulders, almost, she fits under my chin for sure), calling me "mi hijita, mi hijita", and when she finds out my name is Anna she says "ahhhhhhh! anita, anita!!!", and says (in spanish) she wants me to teach her to read and write in Spanish, and will i tutor her twice a week for two hours? well, i looked at my schedule and i really only had one afternoon a week where i could do that, so i offered that, and she was overjoyed but kept teasing me to make it two days a week, but finally we agreed to start with one day a week, and... i'll see her on monday! to teach her spanish literacy and grammar! craaaaazinessssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and she wrapped me in several more hugs and chattered away to one of the other ESL teachers who speaks Spanish, before she left, trailing a bubble-bath of smiles. she had just disappeared out the door when i realized i didn't even know her name!!! luckily she was still on the stairs, so i caught her and got her phone number and found out her name, etc.

so here's what i know: i will be spending two hours a week with an absolute BUNDLE OF JOY. i am... inexplicably excited about this. who knew i would be doing this?? who knows if i even have the ability to??!!! but somehow, i feel more confident about this small assignment that i am certainly NOT qualified for (only remotely, at best), than i feel about the three main ministries i've chosen that i actually have some college education in. go figure. pray for me!

new.home.base.

here's what's been blowing my mind a little each day since august 15:

i live in Camden, New Jersey. this is a home of mine now. this is where i will sleep, eat, sing, dance, garden, teach, learn, cook, clean, speak, listen, walk, run, read the newspaper, surf the internet, drive a minivan, smile, cry, swing in the park, buy groceries, take out the trash, pray, and breathe for the next eleven months.

Camden is one of the poorest cities in the United States - for the past several years it has consistently ranked in the top 3 for crime and poverty. there are over 4000 abandoned properties scattered throughout the neighborhoods, where drugs are bought and sold like hot cakes. i live in Cramer Hill, which is in north Camden, probably one of the nicest sections, with an active community development corporation (the CHCDC) that has helped to create much safe and affordable housing, and yet just two blocks down the street from me is a row of three houses that have been sitting abandoned for about 20 years, during which multiple fires have burned out their insides, and if you just push on one of the sideboards with your pinky finger it flaps back and forth - this thing is ready to fall anytime. it's been labeled an 'imminent hazard' by the city since fall 2008, which means that it should have been demolished, at the absolute latest under LAW, by about 10 months ago. and yet it still stands. 'still stands tall', according to the Courier Post today which carried the story of the local churches' action to try to get the city to take care of this dirty business. i was there.

;-) i carried a banner and a cardboard bulldozer. you can read the story and look at pics here.

i have three housemates - one girl and two guys - who are working with the same program, Franciscan Volunteer Ministries. we like to drink tea and laugh together. i'm excited to get to know them more.

there's so much more i could say about my past 13 days of living here, and about what my day-to-day activities for this year may look like (my schedule is still kind of in process of being developed), but i mostly want to say that everyone i've met here has been wonderfully kind and welcoming. a neighbor down the street told us how he makes sure everybody puts their trash out so that it's easier for the trash man to pick it up. a lady from our church gave us an overflowing basketful of peppers and tomatoes and eggplants and canteloupe from her garden. a man at the HIV/AIDS hangout center gave us a heart-felt concert of Michael Jackson karaoke. the maintenance man at a recently-shut-down Catholic school across town lent us his truck and his own sweat and effort to help move all the textbooks, gym equipment, computers, and other useful materials to the school here, which hasn't had enough money to buy new things for years. so he helped us move it all, and then he gave us several bags of mocha cappuccino mix from the coffee company he works for. the lady who runs the HIV/AIDS ministry just brought pasta, rolls, and salad over for us for dinner, since we were working on that school job all day. our supervisor, Father John, canceled one of our meetings one day and just took us to a nature preserve on the banks of the Delaware river and we walked the trails and shore for a while.

i think it's gonna be a good journey.

momma.kolkata.says.

[she was born on August 26, 1910 in what is now Skopje, Macedonia. she always celebrated her birthday on August 27, though, because that was the day of her baptism. she died on September 5, 1997. happy birthday, Mother Teresa. and happy going-to-be-with-Jesus day, too.]

by Arabinda Aich

by Maqbool Fida Husain

Love has a hem to her garment that reaches the very dust. It sweeps the stains from the streets and lanes, and because it can, it must. - Agnesë Gonxhe Bojaxhiu, aka: Mother Teresa

by Quiccs on deviantart

[may i be a stitch in that hem, not afraid to brush the dust and be soaked in the sweat and tears of the world. and may that hem sweep inroads into me, 'come be my light'. bolomde]

lately.life.loves.mystery.

so here's how Life's been loving me lately:

- two and a half weeks in lovely Pennsylvania, visiting friends and helping out at the Holy Donut [the office building where the American Baptist International Ministries mission center is housed, which happens to be shaped like a giant Lifesaver] and learning to drive in a city again and helping out/enjoying Frazer Mennonite Church's annual Peace Festival, and hearing a friend preach and another friend teach Spanish and another friend serenade me with her glorious voice and guitar, and interviewing at Franciscan Volunteer Ministries (FVM) sites in Philadelphia, Camden, and Wilmington, and attending a peace theology conference at Eastern University, and meeting with the human resources rep of Mennonite Central Committee (MCC), and making Indian food with a friend, and enjoying freedom, and encouraging peace, and listening to jazzy ladies sing in my car on my solo road trip back to Wisconsin

- acceptance into the year-long program with FVM to be part of their inner-city ministries, living in prayerful community with a few other volunteers and working probably in some combination of teaching ESL, engaging in community organization, serving meals or distributing food to families, giving kids and youth things to do after school, and possibly starting a choir in a women's prison. insh'allah/si Dios quiere ;-)

- dialogues with a couple of other organizations about getting applications in process for possibilities after this year

- safety in bringin me back to Green Lake ;-)

- summer haircut, so light off the shoulders!

- sweet visits with friends from Taylor who stayed with me here for a week! and bittersweet goodbyes.

- grace to calm screaming toddlers who miss their mommies while i take care of them during the day at the Children's Center. "Miss Anna, um, can I go poddy? Miss Anna, can we go outside? Miss Anna, can you read me this? Miss Anna, he hit me... Miss Anna, bye, see you later!" praying peace, precious ones.

- i just found this quote while browsing the website of Christa Wells, whose Frame the Clouds album has been on repeat on my mp3 player these days:

"I want to be known (if I am to be known at all) as one of the great lovers of life. I want to make love to these days in new--or at least tender and timeless--ways, to make the trees sigh and the sky kneel for a closer view. (If a few others close their eyes and smile for a few moments with me, it is enough.) I want to dip this paintbrush pen into the best places of my heart--those places I have all but forgotten--and paint pictures that might convince even me that I was not born in vain.

We will write to go about the work of saving our lives.

Tentatively, new words come like a still small voice. This is my unspoken request. By some miracle, I ask that my life be a work of art, even if I never see it as such..." ~Linford Detweiler

- so much is still mysterious about my life, about how it intersects with other lives on this planet, about how to understand and connect with the One who is Life and Light and Love and the only true Peace for us all; there is so much i don't know. but i am willing to wait, to live in the unknown, the 'not yet'... and to keep on enjoying the journey, celebrating the adventure, and being precariously perched in the blessed mystery

it's.about.time.

time for weddings: my first classmate from high school got married Saturday, and i was almost crying along with his mother, because he was like my brother, and now he's all graduated from college and planning to work in a church for a few years and then move back to India with his beautiful WIFE, and it's all just such a mystery, how a young man would decide to lead a woman from her home, to take her on his arm and up to the altar and into his soul and all over the world. why would someone do that, take so much responsibility for another human life? that's crazy.

time for prayer meetings: on Sunday the Daudt's had all the Mu Kappa seniors over to their house, and again i was almost crying as i shared my summer plans and sketchy ideas of what i might do next year, and as people prayed for me and shared scripture that came to their minds, and then we heard everyone else's stories and situations and prayed over each of them, and it's all such a scary storm of wondering where and who and how and what we will be and do in our journeys after graduation.

time for guitar tabs: it never fails, right around the last few weeks of every semester, i always get the urge to pull out mi guitarra whenever i have a few 'free' minutes every day, and try to work up callouses on my fingertips and perfect the few little ditties i have memorized and try to add new chords or new songs to my repertoire. no matter how busy i am, regardless of how many papers and meetings and presentations i have to prepare or emails i have to send or errands i have to run, my itch to play only seems to increase as i get closer to the end. this time i decided to tackle the new skill of reading actual guitar tabs online for a few of my favorite songs by Rosie Thomas and the Weepies, because i've only ever looked at chord charts before, but that doesn't quite do it for these pieces. so now i've got a few new little licks i like to play over and over again, trying to get them just right and improvise in my own style, too.

time for cooking Indian food and baking cookies, time for planning road trips, time for breakfast dates and coffee dates, time for feeding little blue beta fish, time for singing like a big blue beluga whale with the alto section of Chorale, time for doing laundry and taking showers, time for getting to chapel on time for once...

there is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
~ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Dona nobis pacem. O God. Grant us peace. [it's about time...Jesus, would you, please?...]

wendell.berry.sings.love.

On Earth Day: Song in a Year of Catastrophe

I began to be followed by a voice saying:
“It can’t last. It can’t last.
Harden yourself. Harden yourself.
Be ready. Be ready.”

“Go look under the leaves,”
it said, “for what is living there
is long dead in your tongue.”
And it said, “Put your hands
Into the earth. Live close
To the ground. Learn the darkness.
Gather round you all
The things that you love, name
Their names, prepare
To lose them. It will be
As if all you know were turned
Around within your body.”

And I went and put my hands
Into the ground, and they took root
And grew into a season’s harvest.
I looked behind the veil
Of the leaves, and heard voices
That I knew had been dead
In my tongue years before my birth.
I learned the dark.

And still the voice stayed with me.
Waking in the early mornings,
I could hear it, like a bird
Bemused among the leaves,
A mockingbird idly singing
In the autumn of catastrophe:

“Be ready. Be ready.
Harden yourself. Harden yourself.”

And I hear the sound
Of a great engine pounding
In the air, and a voice asking:
“Change or slavery?
Hardship or slavery?”
And voices answering:
“Slavery! Slavery!”
And I was afraid, loving
What I knew would be lost.

Then the voice following me said:
“You have not yet come close enough.
Come nearer the ground. Learn
From the woodcock in the woods
Whose feathering is a ritual
Of fallen leaves,
And from the nesting quail
Whose speckling her hard to see
In the long grass.
Study the coat of the mole.
For the farmer shall wear
The furrows and greenery
Of his fields, and bear
The long standing of the woods.”

And I asked: “You mean death then?”
“Yes,” the voice said. “Die
into what the earth requires of you.”
I let go all holds then, and sank
Like a hopeless swimmer into the earth,
And at last came fully into the ease
And the joy of that place,
All my lost ones returning.

dead.sea.mud. ;)

sparkling.wanderlied.

Wohl auf! Noch getrunken den funkelnden Wein!
Ade nun, ihr Lieben! Geschieden muss sein.
Ade nun, ihr Berge, du väterlich Haus!
Es treibt in die Ferne mich mächtig hinaus,

Die Sonne, sie bleibet am Himmel nicht steh’n,
Es treibt sie, durch Länder und Meere zu geh’n.
Die Woge nicht haftet am einsamen Strand,
Die Stürme, sie brausen mit Macht durch das Land.

Mit eilenden Wolken der Vogel dort zieht
Und singt in der Ferne ein heimatlich Lied.
So treibt es den Burschen durch Wälder und Feld,
Zu gleichen der Mutter, der wandernden Welt.

Da grüssen ihn Vögel bekannt über’m Meer,
Sie flogen von Fluren der Heimat hieher;
Da duften die Blumen vertraulich um ihn,
Sie triben vom Lande die Lüfte dahin.
Die Vögel, die kennen sein väterlich Haus,
Die Blumen, die pflanzt’ er der Liebe zum Strauss,
Und Liebe, die folgt ihm, sie geht ihm zur Hand :
So wird ihm zur Heimat das ferneste Land.


Wandering Song.

Well then, drink once more the sparkling wine!
Adieu then, my loved ones, we shall have to part.
Adieu then, you mountains, my paternal house!
A mighty force urges me to go to the distant lands.

The sun does not stand still in the sky,
It is driven over countries and seas.
The wave does not stay by the lonely shore,
The storms, they roar forcefully through the land.

With hurrying clouds the bird there flies,
And sings in the foreign land a song of homeland.
So it drives the young fellow through forest and field,
To resemble his mother, the wandering world.

There birds that he knows will greet him across sea,
They flew from the meadows of his homeland here;
There flowers surround him with intimate scent,
The breezes from the homeland wafted them here.
The birds, they know his paternal house,
The flowers he planted as a bouquet for love,
And love, it follows him, helps him along:
So he will find himself at home in the most distant land.

Well then, drink once more the sparkling wine!
Adieu then, my loved ones, we shall have to part.
Adieu then, you mountains, my paternal house!
A mighty force urges me to go to the distant lands.

one.plus.one.plus.one.equals.one.

1 + 1 + 1 = 1. yes, es la verdad. on this Chorale tour, we learned that this is true. before the wheels roll, each person checks to makes sure that one (myself) plus one (the person who stands on my right in mixed formation) plus one (the person who stands on my left in mixed formation) equals one (the whole unified Chorale).

highlights:

1. singing at the Holmstad, a retirement home in Batavia, IL, and meeting George, an outgoing old guy who grew up as an MK in Venezuela and then spent most of his life as an international airline pilot, calling Hong Kong home for a while and seeing all kinds of other places. he and i chatted for quite a while, and then i think he found almost every other MK in the Chorale and talked to them at length, too. he was so overjoyed to find young people, young MKs using their talents, and he talked about being inspired to maybe find the college MK groups in his area to advise or encourage them or just see what they're up to these days. also, after the concert i ran into my childhood doctor and his wife, who were good friends with my grandparents back in the day, and recognized my name in the program! small, small world.
+
1. singing at Fourth Presbyterian Church in Chicago, for their free noon-time concert series, where a number of homeless guys were sleeping in the pews when we walked in, and i had tears squeezing from my soul and eyes when we got to sing "on Christ the solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand," because i knew that those guys truly had nowhere else to go, nothing else to stand on or build their lives on, and i wanted so much for the words we sang to sink into their hearts and invite them to put their hope in him if they couldn't put it in the street crowd, and make their home in him if they couldn't make it in an apartment or even a shelter, and be bathed in his unchanging love if not in a hot shower, and be fed by the bread of life if not by a bagel or a burger...but i wanted to do those things for them, too. and i met T.J., bless his heart, who told it to us straight about the hard life he was living, and about how he sometimes walks the streets and freezes and cries, or comes into Fourth Pres and chills on a pew and cries out to God, praying and trusting that there's a purpose for him to be so downtrodden these days and months, maybe God's gonna raise him up, or just use him wherever he is to be a blessing, whenever someone blesses him he shares, he passes it on to his friends on the street who having a hard time, and he prays, prays and cries, cries and prays. it ripped at me to leave him there, to know there are so many more beautiful souls living just as painfully all throughout the cities of this country and the world. i am so pitifully rich; it is a pity that i don't give away more of what i have more freely to those who need it more than i do.
+
1. singing at Elmbrook church in Brookfield, WI - the home church of Brad Larson, one of the students who was killed in the Taylor van accident my freshman year. his parents invited the Chorale to come and sing, kind of as a memorial for him and a gathering of Taylor alumni. so emotional - Solid Rock was what we sang at the memorial service the year after the accident, impossible to keep dry eyes when the memories flowed back so freely and we were singing straight into the teary eyes and tender hearts of his parents. almost three years later, but how can you recover from losing a son, seriously? everything and everyone on earth we could possibly put our hope in may fail us and leave us, but "our hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness". and our children are not naturally supposed to get to our heavenly home before us, but if they do, we can trust in the promise that we're coming too!
=
1. one beautiful, blessed, final Chorale tour. sadness that it's over, but gladness that it happened and that the God of grace and God of glory made himself so deeply present throughout all of it, carrying our heavy burdens and preaching peace into us and revealing his dwelling place inside each person we met.

haha, i just remembered that Chorale Officer Matthew wanted to call it the 'Trinity Check', and i liked it ecstatically but then had to agree with Officer Mark that it sounded semi-blasphemous. ;-) but it is actually a pretty good expression of the mystery of the real Trinity, right? one (Father) plus one (Son) plus one (Holy Spirit) equals ONE!!!

peace, people. "shower the people you love with love"

ashes.ashes.we.all.fall.

Ash Wednesday is today. i love going to the service and getting the little cross on my forehead. this is maybe not the real meaning of it that they'll be explaining to us in church this evening, but in my own little world i think it's like a gentle touch-whisper of a reminder that i am a creation of the Creator, a child of the Father, a sister of the Savior, a mind being molded to love Jesus and love like the Christ, a temporary temple of a body that will so soon creak and rattle and decay and turn to dust, and also a glorious soul that will receive a new body free from the temptations and fears and fights and tears of this life. and that we are living in the meantime, the in-between. and that the reality of the One who dwells within us should be evident on our faces and in our speech and through the work of our hands. and that the Word, the living story of the embodiment of Love, is written on our hearts. and that someday we will see the I AM face to face, even if we can only see God's back for now [read Exodus 33]. mientras que esperamos...

i'm always curious what other people are doing to observe Lent.


for my Personal Foundations for Ministry class, we have to make a plan for practicing a spiritual discipline over the next 8 weeks or so. how convenient. i'm excited about it because i was getting inklings and advice about a couple of things i should instigate more intentionally in my life even before i thought about this project. no, friends, it's not fasting. :-P and i don't plan on saying much more than that about it, but would definitely appreciate prayer as i try to stick to this commitment and let the Spirit work through it!

i found this set of poems by T.S. Eliot, entitled Ash Wednesday, written shortly after his commitment to Christ within the Anglican Church. they are somewhat inscrutable in parts, maybe i just don't get a lot of the allusions he's making, but he writes so lyrically, and even where i don't understand it lends an air of mystery that is strangely comforting to me. like language can't contain everything there is or even everything we know, which is such a small portion of everything there is and why everything is anyway.

for someone who loves putting words together and pulling meaning out of them, who worries when words are left unsaid or badly said [which i do ALL THE TIME] or misinterpreted or ignored, it is good to hear, from poem V (five):

"If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word."

[it sounds like a tongue-twister at first, but makes more sense after reading through a few times]

'beauty for ashes', i need to go make a playlist of all the songs that are titled that. [like the one by Shane and Shane, and this one by Jinny Kim...]

chau for now.

this.old.world.

oh this messy spinning world. sometimes it just makes me wanna go home early, like Psalm 90:1 says LORD, in all generations you have been our home. or as a family friend of ours, a Southern preacher kind of guy, used to say to his son when he did something that got on his nerves, "Son?! you wanna meet Jesus early?!! well you just keep on doin that there and you will!" sometimes i think i would really kind of like that. send me to meet Jesus early, Mr. Williams, sir!

but then i get to see a roomful of salt-and-pepper-haired soft-wrinkled faces smile and tear up as my choir sings "swing low, sweet chariot", and i'm glad again that i've got a little (God-knows-how-much) more time left in life to make people smile and cry.

life.together.

i'm reading Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, for a class, but it's more like a discussion group and prayer group than a class. and i'm reading my mom's old copy that she must have had in high school or college because it has her maiden name written in the front. it's kind of funny discovering her notes in the margins, and realizing that i tend to react in similar ways to some of his ideas, especially agreeing with things like recognizing the presence of Christ in a special way in people who are poor, hungry, weak, or seem insignificant, and emphatically disagreeing with the assertion that God is not a God of the emotions - he Is, too! he must be, otherwise i'd be a hopeless wreck! (well, i'm still kind of a wreck. but now i have hope! ;-)

we just finished reading and talking about chapter 2. Bonhoeffer insists on some pretty strong ideas about how Christians should go about living in community and having common devotions - rising early every morning, praying the Psalms, singing hymns in unison only, and then having a longer reading from the Old or New Testament. even the suggestions that seem a little extreme for our context today, he has some pretty solid and convicting reasoning to back them up.

also, he liked Gandhi a lot (or his nonviolent ideas, anyway), so much that he almost went and visited him in India. but instead he stayed in Germany and helped found an underground/secret seminary, which is where he wrote this book living in community with the pastor-students. and he was a double agent working for the Nazis but helping Jews. and he was part of a plot to assassinate Hitler...i don't know about the rightness of that, but he was in a tough position and he did not take the decision lightly, and he never made the claim that it was absolutely the right thing to do, and ultimately he didn't go through with it. well, i guess that was because they arrested him and eventually sent him to be killed in one of the death camps. people who knew him in the prison camps said he was someone "for whom God was real and always near." wow. i know maybe one or two people like that, who you can just tell that they are constantly aware of God's presence within them, and everything they say and do just exudes genuine love and beauty. how does one become that person??? i guess i should read on!

keys.to.life.?.

my dear friends, here is a good tip for life: try not to lock your keys in your car. but if you do, try really hard not to leave your cell phone in the locked car, too. oh, and if all else fails, just please, PLEASE, try not to have it happen on a day when you have to be at a meeting within an hour and a half with the Refugee Education Committee at the Department of Education, where you have never been before, with your internship supervisor and about 10 other education professionals all in attendance there.

but, even if that whole scenario is absolutely unavoidable by this point, and you've trekked over to an office where they let you use a phone, but you can't get ahold of the people across town who could potentially bring you your extra set of your car keys.....you never know if it could turn out to be the highlight of your day. you know, you might even make a new friend.

i did!

well, just so you know, it's especially helpful if that friend is a friendly, assertive lady who has leased cars for 8 years from the same dealer your car happens to be from, and knows exactly where the closest dealership is, and calls them and finds out all your options. especially if she finds out that it will take about 5 minutes and 5 bucks to cut a new key, instead of the 55 minutes it would take your other friends to drive to you with your key, or the 45 minutes it would take for a roadside assistance professional to come and break open your car for $50. and it's kind of great if she offers to take her lunch break and drive you to the dealership, and if she tells you all about her high school sons who she says are strong Christians and good at everything under the sun, and her 20-something niece who has traveled all over the world and speaks French and Chinese fluently and sounds like she could be the President someday. annnnnnd if you check 'yes' to all of the above, then hey, it's probably a good idea to buy her lunch on the way back, even though that is a totally inadequate thank-you for all she's done for you.

but if all this is true, then you may find yourself in a state of some dismay that she doesn't seem to want much thanks at all. you get the feeling that what she really wants you to do is to thank God.

which is, really, by that time, all you can do.

hello.mr.president.

so much art has been inspired by this man over the past two years, though it probably comes more from the hype of presidential campaigning and the symbolism of the collective possibilites of achievement for Americans of all skin colors than from any personal achievement to bring justice or any commitment to King.dom values of peace and nonviolent resistance like the artistic tributes to MLK i posted on his Day. i don't yet see anywhere near the same radical convictions against militarism that King professed, which are still urgently applicable today, while the U.S. continues to amass and research and develop WMDs even though we already have more than the other top 20 countries combined. like a sick, sick bully stockpiling mountains of rocks for his slingshot when all the other kids have only a handful of stones, or no slingshot at all. so sick. i guess encouraging Americans to humble ourselves and serve each other and care for the world is a step in the right direction, a message thankfully a little different from "keep shopping, people". anyway, i put some pieces below that i thought were interesting. or that i just liked the colors. ;-)

i hope that he, who has been blessed with a cross-cultural upbringing, an illustrious education, secure financial situation, loyal wife and daughters, and now with this powerful political and global position, will now work to be a blessing. i hope that he whose given name is Barack will do everything he possibly can to be a 'baraka'.

i love what Rev. Dr. Joseph Lowery prayed in his benediction, his closing prayer of blessing, at the inauguration: "With your hands of power and your heart of love, help us then, now, Lord, to work for that day when nations shall not lift up sword against nation, when tanks will be beaten into tractors" [!amen!], "when every man and every woman shall sit under his or her own vine and fig tree and none shall be afraid, when justice will roll down like waters and righteousness as a mighty stream.
Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around ... when yellow will be mellow ... when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what is right" [i,for one, need to work on that.don't you?and i have read about and been part of maybe a few communities where this is done as a way of life,living the process of true reconciliation, true justice, but...too few, too few.and on a global scale...oh goodness don't get me started on MNCs and economic imperialism...wow.we have a long ways to go]. "Let all those who do justice and love mercy say Amen. say Amen! say Amen."

amen = let it be so. let the hope continue beyond the hype. let him and everyone in positions of power choose to do justice and love mercy and wage peace, not just halt war. por favor. amen.

rev.dr.m.l.k.jr.day.