sola gratia

Go to the Limits of Your Longing

2011-08-01T14:27:00.000-07:00

by Rainer Maria Rilke

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.

Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.

Now I Become Myself

2009-04-03T13:03:00.000-07:00

Hi Friends,

Lots of good things going on right now.

Update #1: I am working with AJS only half time right now and volunteering half-time with a community development Honduran organization called Stewardship of Christian Ministries (http://www.mchm.org) in the neighborhood I live called Nueva Suyapa.

AJS: I am still doing some communications work, but what I’m spending most of my time on is helping to plan and implement spiritual retreats with our chaplain( an awesome Swedish women who learned guitar from gypsies) for each of the 7 projects. All my experience and excitement about staff retreats is coming in handy now—life comes full circle.

SCM: Mujeres Valientes (Courageous Women) is a support group for women in Nueva Suyapa who have suffered through domestic violence. It has a neat poverty reduction part to it as well where a baking group is looking to start their own business. I am helping the administrator of the group evaluate the project’s work and do some long-term planning for the future success of the group.

Update #2: I am thinking seminary. That’s not worded very accurately. I have been thinking seminary for a while now and have come to the conclusion after much reflection and prayer that it should be a go. Surprised? That makes two of us. Obviously, there is a story behind all of this, but if you have followed this blog, you should know that being brief is not one of my better qualities. Result: another blog entry.

I think God has a funny sense of humor. I was a self-proclaimed disgruntle pastor’s kid—now look at me.

I am currently applying for a masters in divinity with applications going (read: still in process) to 4 different seminaries right in Michigan, Virginia, and Vancouver, BC. Canada. My central focus for pursuing an M.div started off with pastoral care and counseling, but on a given day it expands (and sometimes contracts). I am particularly drawn to trauma counseling, restorative justice practices, chaplaincy in justice and peace organizations, and biblical scholarship in the theology of suffering and reconciliation.

Going to seminary for me seems to be the most honest expression of my faith right now. It feels like a very natural decision for me. Maybe it has something to do with finding vocation. : 0

Now for a poem: I read this one in Parker Palmer’s book “Let Your Life Speak.” Without fail, with each reading I inhale deeply, breathing in the words that blissfully speak so much truth about my life and the trajectory that promises to come.

Foreign as it might still feel, coming home to myself is an exercise I continue to pursue, but with less trepidation now as the layers unfold to something new yet familiar. It is as though I am waking up to God saying, “Behold, I am doing a new thing. Now it springs up; Do you not perceive it?” ( Isaiah 43:19)

Now I Become Myself

By May Sarton

Now I become myself. It's taken
Time, many years and places;
I have been dissolved and shaken,
Worn other people's faces,
Run madly, as if Time were there,
Terribly old, crying a warning,
"Hurry, you will be dead before--"
(What? Before you reach the morning?
Or the end of the poem is clear?
Or love safe in the walled city?)
Now to stand still, to be here,
Feel my own weight and density!
The black shadow on the paper
Is my hand; the shadow of a word
As thought shapes the shaper
Falls heavy on the page, is heard.
All fuses now, falls into place
From wish to action, word to silence,
My work, my love, my time, my face
Gathered into one intense
Gesture of growing like a plant.
As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root,
So all the poem is, can give,
Grows in me to become the song,
Made so and rooted by love.
Now there is time and Time is young.
O, in this single hour I live
All of myself and do not move.
I, the pursued, who madly ran,
Stand still, stand still, and stop the sun!

Love, Love, and more Love,

Grace

The Patience of Ordinary Things

2008-11-11T15:38:00.000-08:00

Last week, a visiting North American asked me how I “deal” with the water situation here in Nueva Suyapa. What he was referring to is the fact that for the past year I’ve been living in a house with no running water. I clumsily tried to explain that, strangely enough, I‘ve come to enjoy the moments when I fill a large pot with water from one of the water storage containers in the house and heat it on the stove for a toasty bucket shower.

A few reasons:

First, I come to value water differently. You don’t just talk about water being a scarce resource, you live it because the precious stuff only comes to your house 3 times a month. Also, it brings a very simple but overlooked truth to mind: water does not come from a faucet. I know. But I think I can begin to forget where things come from sometimes: food, gas, paper, jewelry, clothes, love ( O.K. I will make a different point about the last one in a bit) all seem to appear at store for our convenience. Love doesn’t appear out of no where a wonderful gift that just happens. Many times it’s gritty, hard work. Um… now pausing to think, I think the reason why I make this point will require a whole other blog entry. : )

But even though it’s been a great spiritual exercise in remembering my role of steward of God’s earth, doing this otherwise ordinary chore is also quite lovely maybe because there can be beauty to ordinary things that just remind us that we are alive and that its no small miracle that we woke up this morning and lived to pour another bucket of water over ourselves. Maybe it’s in the most ordinary things that I am reminded of the most extraordinary of gifts.

They told me that I live in “the trenches” but what if I don’t see it that way? What if I am learning to live to enjoy the quiet and ordinary things just for what they are? And maybe we don’t have to be without running water to continuously be in awe of God and his world.

Note: I don’t want to romanticize poverty. Sure sounds like I am, huh? It’s not beautiful if you don’t’ have running water because of inefficient board of directors or not have a good public road because of corrupt officials. Righteous anger ( and doing justice :0 ) is an ethical response to injustice, but God wants us to live in hope not in gloom and grumbling. So I think we are called to enjoy life even when there are limitations because maybe we’ll discover that these supposed limitations are actually liberating us. A life in Christ transforms how we see everything. But we sometimes allow these limitations in life to actually bind us to a different pace of life where we take things for granted, are disconnected with the living, breathing, dying, and rejuvenating world, and don’t pause and slowly, but deliberately breath in and become very conscious of the steam escaping from the pot, brimming with water.

Friends, please do read and enjoy this poem. It inspired me to write this entry--big surprise.

The Patience of Ordinary Things

By Pat Schneider

It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they're supposed to be.
I've been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?

Love, Love, and more Love,

-grace

Where there is despair, hope...

2008-10-31T17:11:00.000-07:00

Dear friends of Christ,

God is very much alive. On Wednesday AJS-supported justice workers and 150 residents of affected neighborhoods in northern Honduras met with top officials from five different Honduran government bodies urging them to address the killings earlier this month, the death threats against four community leaders, and serious problems with the land-titling process. And they listened. All these officials promised to act quickly to improve the situation.

I am pleased to tell you that security measures for our threatened friends, including a government body guard and increased patrol are among the promises from the Ministry of Security.

Please read the article adapted from a Revistazo (the AJS online journal) article detailing the talking points of these visits.

Read the full report by clicking here.

Thank you for all for your notes of encouragement, especially for your prayers and advocacy efforts on behalf of these justice workers and community leaders. God is moving.

I haven’t shared any poems, liturgy, anything in many months—very sad. I have this prayer taped on the wall at the office and I see it as I type away. In times like these I find it especially fitting. Dare we start acting the very opposite of what we see in the world? Dare we ask God to help us be instruments of justice and peace in our communities? Pray that God gives us the courage to pray this prayer.

A prayer

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace

Where there is hatred let me sow love;

Where there in injury, pardon

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

Where there is sadness, joy;

--Saint Francis of Assisi

Love, Love and more Love,

Grace

Speak Out for Justice

2008-10-22T13:58:00.000-07:00

Hello friends,

Thank you for your prayers in these last few days for our friends in danger in San Pedro. A brief re-cap: ( more information in the post below "Friends Under Threat" ) Three community leaders were murdered in the last two weeks for their work with the AJS-supported Land Rights Project and more continue to be threatened.

Now, I'm asking you to take action and Speak Out for Justice!

Please go to the following AJS webpage to send an email to Honduran Government and World Bank officials urging them to address this situation.

Friends under threat

2008-10-21T09:56:00.000-07:00

Beloved community,

Yesterday I sent an email out to many of you asking for prayer on a special security matter concerning the work of AJS here in Honduras. Please feel free to post this letter in your own blogs or forward it to others so that we may all join in prayer. Thank you for those that have already responded with much care and concern.

I will be updating this blog more frequently to let other know about news on the situation and how you can send letter to the Honduran government to take action. The letter reads below.

Love, Love, and more Love,

Grace

[The letter]

Dear friends of Christ,

I pray that you are all well in mind and in spirit. Thank you for all your prayers this last year for me while I have been living in Honduras and working at the Association for a More Just Society, a Christian, non-profit justice organization supporting the work of doing justice for the most vulnerable in Honduran society.

I ask that you direct your prayers to a security matter concerning our ASJ staff and supporters.

Three community leaders working with the AJS-supported Land project in the city of San Pedro Sula have been killed this month. Four more community leaders continue to receive death threats. One woman has been told that she will not live to see this Christmas and another has received routine nightly visits by a black van at her home. Last week, our San Pedro Sula lawyer reported being followed by a man for several hours and the rest of the Land Rights team is worried for their security and that of their families. Yet these justice workers press forward in the struggle for land security for thousands in San Pedro.

The Land Rights team works in Tegucigalpa and in San Pedro Sula to assist residents of poor neighborhoods in obtaining a legal title to their land—a highly sought after investment in Honduras. The Property Law passed in 2004, thanks in part to AJS-supported advocacy efforts, has set a system in place to register and issue titles for land for hundreds of people. But not everyone supports the changes that will come.

Supposed land owners in the Cofradía sector are indignant that hundreds will have the land expropriated by the government and then have the land appraised at a lower value than these scheming owners would prefer.

For over ten months the Land Rights team and community neighborhood presidents have been pushing to finalize the expropriation process but opposition was given. Community leaders were offered bribes from contested owners to stop their work but they refused. They knew the work wouldn’t only benefit themselves but many others in Cofradía who were and continue to be threatened with evictions from supposed, contesting land owners.

Please pray for strength and peace for the families of slain community leaders Ubense Aguilar and Elías Murcia.

Pray for courage and security for currently threatened community leaders in Cofradia.

Pray for wisdom and perseverance for the Land Rights team as they forge forward in the expropriation process in order that hundred may receive legal land titles.

Pray for diligence and conviction of heart for government officials and police so that security and protection are provided to those under threat and that the expropriation process does not lag.

Thanks you body of Christ for your prayers. Please remember with us God’s promises: Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you –Deuteronomy 7:8

Go to the following link (Spanish) for more information.

http://www.revistazo.com/Articulos/search_results.php?misc=search&subaction=showfull&id=1224100145&archive=&cnshow=news&start_from=&ucat=1

Blessings,

Grace Miguel

Communications

Association for a More Just Society (AJS)

Hanging out in the kitchen

2008-10-21T09:15:00.000-07:00

I realize that I haven't posted anything in several months and that I haven't taken any pictures of where I am living in Nueva Suyapa. Enjoy the picture of an early Saturday breakfast at our kitchen. ( I don't have a camera and just relie on friendly visitors to pass me their pictures.) Featuring clockwise left: Abram Huyser Honig ( fellow co worker and boarder at the Venegas house), Susan Venegas ( Honduran sister and confidant in matters that are silly and serious), Russ Jacobs ( visitor to Hotel Venegas and AJS board member,), Yolanda Venegas ( AMAZING cook and fellow cohort in laughing at all thing appropriate and inappropriate), Grace Miguel ( special guest: my lovely grapefruit I was ready to devour) not featured Gary Nederveld ( visitor to Hotel Venegas and AJS board member).

What seemed to be the end proved to be the beginning.

2008-04-16T07:52:00.000-07:00

Hi dear friends,

No creative excuses this time for why I have neglected this little writing space of mine for too long. I anticipate sharing some of my musings from the last few months with all of you but I think I will have to take it one entry at a time. All of these reflections are significant to me, but the one that is the basis for so many of the rest is very connected to the celebration of Easter.

This year, the Easter holidays led me to new places. Here in Honduras, we receive a week off, and I had the good fortune to travel with two friends from work to Nicaragua, with one mission: to surf. You might be wondering, “ Does Grace know how to surf? Negative. Do I know how to surf now, you ask? That’s a no again, Instead, I acquired: a bad tan, skinned knees, lots of salt water in my belly, and a new appreciation for the mighty sea and those who brave it in the name of catching a good wave. I also was able to see the beautiful powder carpets and Catholic processions in downtown Tegucigalpa on Black Friday, and went to my first 5:30 a.m. Resurrection Sunday service at the church, La Reformada—unforgettable.

Easter in Central America has also led me to new ways of valuing the meaning of it.
For me, Easter has mostly meant three days of remembering Christ’s death on the cross but I ‘ve always placed more interest on the resurrection part. But since I was first introduced at Calvin to the Christian tradition of a 40 day observance called Lent, I have slowly begun experiencing this time of the year differently.

This year, Lent has been such a gift. Forty days of reflection in fact does truly inspire one to participate in this act of waiting with eager anticipation to celebrate God’s victory over death. Perhaps not so strangely it didn’t find myself reflecting over resurrection, but instead it’s been the concept of dying that I have started to befriend. The promise of new life for us rides on the coattails of much less popular teaching that we must all die before receiving the abundance of life Christ came to bring. It’s oddly interesting to me that new.life for us was a result of the death of Christ. Death was a prerequisite for new life..

In the same way, I believe that God teaches, instructs us to enter into this act of dying.

It seems so absurd. Try as I might, death has always seemed so much like an end. And often it has simply felt so futile and tragic. One of my favorite authors, Henri Nouwen affirms that truly, “ the paradox is indeed that new life is born out of the pains of the old,” and I am starting to around to this. But how is it that death is something that we as disciples of Christ need? Annie Dillard in Tinker at Pilgrim Creek writes eloquently about how death is such a simple part of nature. It is not evil. It is not just a necessary part of life, but an integral part of the good life. Life and death are uniquely linked

God promises a new life, not just when we physically die, but through his Spirit that he sends, we can reach a new life in Christ now. But, how many of us have been able to taste this new life? Death and new life are such hard things for us to enter into, but I’ve come to find out is that the struggle is even greater when we try to come to this new life still clinging to our old one. Throughout the bible we hear references about the importance of this not so symbolic dying and what happens when we don’t. “ And whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it “(Matthew 10:38). I read the words of the Apostle John, and feel that the message is reiterated and affirmed “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain, but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” John 12:24.

I don’t about you all but this is very counterintuitive for me in my struggle to survive in a word that is constantly telling me to cling to myself for dear life. What I hadn’t thought about before was the kind of life I was clinging to exactly

This Sunday we celebrated communion in church and I was reminded again of the act of dying. In order to discard our old nature we must die. We then have the opportunity to become receptive vessels for the Spirit that can give us new life. As we were standing in a large circle, I repeated the words “ this is Christ’s body, broken for me,” and paused to think about what these acts had begun to mean to me now.

As I take and eat the bread in remembrance of Christ’s body, I now know that Christ’s death means that I must die along side him as well. But oh, but the joy, for if we are obedient to God’s call to take up the cross and join in the suffering and death of Christ, we also participate in the resurrection of Christ and the new life we seek. Thus we see that our dying allows us to eagerly and hungrily take Christ’s body broken for us as he calls, “ take and eat, take and eat.”

“ Death is part of a much great and much deeper event, the fullness of which we cannot comprehend, but of which we know that is a life-bringing event. When Jesus said that if a grain of wheat dies it will yield a rich harvest, he not only spoke about his own death but indicated the new meaning he would give to our death. The friends of Jesus saw him and heard him only a few times after the Easter morning, but their lives were completely changed. What seemed to be the end proved to be the beginning; what seemed to be a cause for fear proved to be a cause for courage; what seemed to be defeat proved to be victory; and what seemed to be the basis for despair proved to be the basis for hope.

Henri Nouwen

So maybe dear friends, maybe instead of death being merely something to be triumphed over, maybe its something that God is calling us to as well. Amazingly, it ‘s beginning to appear to me that where death is affirmed, hope finds its roots as well, as Henri writes.

Love, Love, and more Love,

Grace

And the point is to live everything.

2008-01-13T10:46:00.000-08:00

Friends,
I have been eagerly anticipating writing to you with news about me in my little corner of the world. I have let too much time lapse in my attempts to convey the seemingly overwhelming amount of anecdotes, poems, thoughts, and rambles I desire to share. Well, here I go. Come along!

Having worked at ASJ for now a little over a month has been an incredible opportunity to learn. Learning to interpret and translate from Spanish to English and vice versa, reminds me that I am far from mastering the Spanish language. Fortunately, I am provided with the space to hone some of these skills my other “ International Relations Team” coworkers seem to effortlessly use.

One of the more satisfying parts of my job is the process of writing short stories for the monthly AJS email updates (if you would like to sign-up to receive them, then go to http://www.ajs-us.org/ ). I have been given the liberty to tag-along on interviews with our beneficiaries, attend public ceremonies, sit-down with our lawyers, journalists, and counselors for hours, all in the name of getting the story. I absolutely love it. Story telling is becoming a passion for me, but not all stories are created equal. “ Beans as a Pedagogical Tool”-with a link to the story below- is my favorite since aside from the title, it took me on a visit to a neighborhood to which I have a special link: Nueva Suyapa.
http://www.ajs-us.org/beans_as_a_pedagogical_tool.htm.

As providence may have it, I was fortunate enough to participate in series of events for Dionisio Action Week . On Tuesday, December 4 , on the anniversary of his death, the memory of Dionisio, the “ lawyer of the poor” was commemorated by AJS. The day before, our staff visited the cemetery where he lay, and I was greatly encouraged to find this time filled with words saturated with hope. Surrounded by people that had worked with and loved this man, and being a outsider in this intimate circle of lament, I became a silent witness to the inspired community of believers Dionisio left behind. I remember the helplessness that engulfed me upon hearing about the tragedy of his murder. Amazingly, one year later, I found myself at the city square, quite literally speaking out against the impunity that continues. As I sifted through the hundreds letters that had come from around the world, marking their support to the cause of crying out for justice for the murder of Dionisio, I began to make out a vision of human solidarity that can manifest in the face of injustice.

Toward the end of December I found myself with a decision to make: Would I spend the holidays in Honduras or in Michigan? Many of you already know the rest of the story. I fear, I will always dream of a white Christmas, for all the implications it brings along. Although all the truly wonderful moments of reuniting with friends and family would fill many pages, I want to share only this beautiful thought that filled me with joy as I went over the many conversations that I shared with ye saints - I am loved. Thank-you.

With a new year comes new transitions for me- yes, more of them. The fabulous and hilarious Venegas family of Nueva Suyapa has eagerly agreed to welcome me into their bustling, loving, and inviting household. I hope to share more news about this dear family in the near future. For the last month, I have also been attending the Christian Reformed church in Suyapa, La Reformada. One of ASJ’s Gideon centers is located on the second floor of the church. This is testimony to how the church is dedicated to holistic community development. I am excited to join the church’s efforts by making it my home church while I am here.

The day I arrived back to Honduras from the States, I undertook a journey to another part of the country. As a Calvin student, I had the pleasure to meet a family in the Olancho department, with whom I spent several weekends during the spring of 2006. My travels to reunite with old friends led me to meet new ones. Disclaimer to this story: I had already been traveling for two days. When I woke up on that early Saturday morning to head out to the bus station, I didn’t expect to run into God so much.

The little town of Guanabano rests one hour from Catacamas, an almost-in my case at least- four hour bus ride from Tegucigalpa, my departure city. As many of you know, I am not exactly a slave to the clock; actually, I don’t even own a watch.

Fact: There is “ direct” service to Catacamas, but that doesn’t mean you still won’t make stops along the way. Each day only two buses leave Catacamas for Guanabano. I missed the first bus, and was two hours early for the second.

Speculation( mainly mine): The buses at the Catacamas market go into Guanabano. They don’t. I asked.

Then the kind taxi driver asked. Then the store owner and his wife asked. They don’t, they confirmed. I was in a pickle. How was I to get to this town? The kind taxi driver drew me a map. I am terrible with maps. The kind taxi driver lent me his cell phone to call my friend Ondina, who was expecting me. Wait, her number was in my cell phone, which was conveniently in a friend’s car in Tegucigalpa. Next option? Take the next bus and pray. Eventually, the thoughtful taxi driver left. I thanked him for all his kindness to which he responded, “ I figure the next time I am in Peru, you will return me the favor.” I sure hope so Carlos. He also did me another favor by introducing me to two acquaintances: Enrique and Maria.

Maria told me that when she first saw me she thought I was Japanese. Her good natured commented turned into a conversation about how the former President of Peru, my mother country, was Japanese. She told me how she received her ( equivalent) associate’s degree, and she would have kept studying, but then she got married. “ Then comes the family,” she stated, and then with a broad smile, pointed out her young daughter to me.

Enrique was curious what I was doing in Honduras. He had heard that Machu Picchu was beautiful, and wanted to travel there one day. He told me he’d met many Peruvians when he was imprisoned in a Houston, Texas prison. His calm demeanor did not provide any evidence to the true difficulties that must have come along the way on his trip to the United States. Once caught as an illegal immigrant, Enrique told me, “ It’s plain luck how long you stay in jail. I was there for three months.” I sat there listening about the times when the other “ illegal immigrant” inmates saw other, and how they would quickly figure out who was from where. “ There were Brazilians, Chinese, Peruvians ( huge grin from him at this moment), Hondurans, and Mexicans; we were all there for the same reason,” he explained quietly. He says he now prefers living the quiet life here in Catacamas with his family.

These beautiful people shared their life stories with me- a mere passerby. I saw so much of God and humanity in them that I couldn’t understand how both could be shining through so clearly. Here I was thinking I could bear witness to them when all the time God was telling me, “ Listen. They are showing you, a stranger, the love of Christ.”. When I finally got up to leave, Maria told me, “ We are just a humble family, but in whatever else you need, we are here for you.” Have you ever been thankful for getting lost and confused? That day, I was.

More angels in disguise showed up later. One was one the bus, and told me to get off at the house of Ondina’s father in Guanabito, where I could call her. Ondina’s father and family turned out to be many more as they let me into their home, and wait for Ondina to arrive. Finally, I believe Ondina herself was God to me that weekend. She walked the 5 kilometer dirt road stretch from Guanabito to Guanabano as the sun was setting- we had a little time to catch-up. The visit was much too short as we simply ate dinner, talked with Osman, Ondina’s husband who is working in the States, on the phone, and then got ready for bed. The next morning I caught the 7:00 am bus back to Catacamas, hoping to make the 8: 15 bus back to the capital. Well, of course, as the theme of this story goes, I didn’t make it. Waiting is big part of living here in Honduras, I am learning a lot about waiting. What I have begun thinking is that waiting shouldn’t be seen separately from the rest of life, as though you life was “ interrupted” and now you have to wait. Perhaps, waiting isn’t “waiting” but living, just a continuation of living.

It is not in me not to seek answers, solutions, and next steps. Well, maybe that is why God asks us to empty ourselves before we can work. Below is a quotation from a now beloved book of mine: Henri Nouwen’s Reaching Out. Along the way, I have taught myself to live to find out, to understand, and to accomplish. These words are most heartening to me as they remind me that maybe the point is to live everything. Silly me.

Letters to a Young Poet
by Rainer Maria Rilke

“ I want to beg you as much as a I can… to be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek answers, which cannot be given [to] you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answers… take whatever comes with great trust, and if only comes out of your own will, out of some need of your innermost being take it upon yourself and hate nothing.”

Love, Love, and more Love,
Grace

the grace to live

2007-11-17T09:38:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking about grace lately. Sadly, the cornerstone of the Christian faith that also happens to be my namesake, has not been a significant point of reflection for me throughout the years. Most of my life, I have understood grace as the free favor of God toward humans, which is necessary for salvation. The last few months here in Honduras have slowly taught me that grace is also the only avenue through which I have the possibility to live a life of peace, hope, joy, lament, and reconciliation.

Sola gratia. I have changed the name of this blog for two main reasons: 1) I can use a reminder of how and why it is that I am able to do anything for the kingdom and for the glory of God, and 2) I am no longer teaching.

God, in infinite wisdom, allowed me to come Honduras to learn many things, but one of them was not to teach. Yesterday was my last day at the school, and it was filled with surprises from some of my favorite and then more unruly students. I crossed paths with seventy-five 10th graders this fall, and only God knows why. Last night, the school put on a Thanksgiving dinner for the staff and administration- a wonderful note to end on- which allowed me to get a head start on thinking about for what I am thankful.

I am thankful for faithfulness. By the mercy of God, I have a job with Association for a More Just Society (AJS). The Christian NGO's goal is to help transform Honduras, and the world, into a more just society. ( All of this is taken from their website: www.ajs-us.org). To this end, AJS supports efforts in Honduras that promote the interests of the most poor in legislative projects, defend the rights of the most vulnerable in judicial processes, increase the awareness and democratic participation of churches to practice the Biblical teachings on justice, and publish journalistic investigations on issues that affect the poor of Honduras.

I will begin working as an AJS fellow, here in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, beginning next week. My resonsibilities will include corresponding with supporters, attending visitors at the office, coordinating board calls, taking on some aspects of newsletter design, monthly emails, and web updates, processing new Justice Club sign-ups, and translating material. In addition, I will be assisting with a youth transformation project in Nueva Suyapa. I am in true awe of what God is blessing me to do at AJS. As I eagerly anticipate becoming part of this community of believers who have actively taken up the call of Micah 6:8, to " act justly," I give thanks to God for his faithfulness that brought me to this place.

I am thankful for grace. This grace turns my soul to God who compels me to empty myself so that God in me may finally begin to work. Only by grace, can I have true joy that does not falter in the face of failure, loneliness, and the incomplete. The grace that allows me to live is also the same which teaches me to live with unanswered questions. We know only a portion o f the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. This has been the cornerstone of my faith.

I Corinthians 13 lays it out: We don't see things clearly. We're squnting in a fog, peering through a mist. Until the completeness comes, when we'll see clearly as God sees,we must do three things that lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love. I give thanks for the grace that can lead me to trust, hope, and love.

I am thankful for love. I have experienced God's love in the quiet moments of prayer, through friends' reassuring words , in the sights and smells of a creation, and through the innumerable ways that God tells me " I am here," everyday. I believe that because God loves, grace is dispensed undiscriminately. How else can I understand the times when I have least deserved it, I have known God's love? There exists a recipricol relationship between love and grace; I am able to truly love only after God has gives me the grace to do it. I Corinthians talks about how we are bankrupt with out love. To live is to love because loving is meant to lead to an intricate dance of lament, joy, suffering, and reconciliation. I pray God grants me the grace to live.

The following prayer and verse is a familiar one, but it brings a deeper meaning now that I see that grace is involved not only in the act of God's countenance shining upon me, but also in the act of me smiling back.

The Lord bless you, and keep you;
The Lordmake His face shine on you,
And be gracious to you;
The Lord lift up His countenance on you,
And give you peace.

Numbers 6:24-26

I miss all of you dearly. I am exceedingly thankful to belong to the body of Christ, who support and uphold each other in prayer. When I have felt downtrodden, God has placed somebody there to walk with me through the fog and mist. I am deepyly thankful to you friend.

I learn by going where I have to go.

2007-10-25T20:24:00.000-07:00

I have started attending a church in a movie theatre. The cine-iglesia is called Redencion. The first service to which I went, they were still meeting in a hotel in the downtown area. Then I came to their bible study on a Tuesday and by the end of that night, I was signed-up to be part of their praise and worship team. Hilariously, on my second service, I was already singing in front of church. The church has a wonderful mission to meet people where they transit, which ends up being in more non-conventional places like the shopping center, Plaza Miraflores where the theatre is located. Our bible study groups will branch out from the liquadas business- a fruit smoothie-type establishment- where we now meet, to coffee shops, different universities, and in members’ homes.

It is very exciting to be part of this fledging church. We rock-out with a full band on Sundays, watch announcements on the “ big screen”, hear the word of God while sitting in movie theatre seats, and yes, the presence of God is very much in that place. We are a small group, and the moment I entered the group, I was warmly received into part of their family. They have lavished me with so much prayer and encouragement, ministering to me as the body of Christ by providing me with much needed spiritual direction.

Tuesday was the first day of first quarter exams. Everything was in place; so, naturally, everything had to go terribly wrong. All my exams were missing one page. We didn’t find this out until after they had all been distributed. To make matters worse, there were two versions of the test for both 10th and 11th grade - in order to minimize cheating- and my 90 odd students were scattered in ten different classrooms- also to minimize cheating- in the high school. Results: chaos. Copies had to be made expeditiously. I had to go to, literally, every single student and give them their added page, while at the same time, trying to entertain questions about the exam. I thought I understood the meaning of the word trust. I thought I understood the meaning of the word patience. Well, I was wrong on both counts.

God is teaching me many hard lessons on how to not just “ talk “ about having faith in Him, but actually living in this faith every day. Hebrews 11 talks about how this discipline is God’s training so that we might truly live lives of true worship and obedience. Being trained in the lessons of faith is not easy, but I believe that the alternative is far worse. Dallas Willard writes ,” Non discipleship costs abiding peace, a life penetrated throughout by love, faith that sees everything in the light of God's overriding governance for good, hopefulness that stands firm in the most
discouraging of circumstances, power to do what is right and withstand
the forces of evil. In short, it costs exactly the abundance of life Jesus said he came to bring."
I want this kind of abundant life. So I guess that means more training for me. I really enjoyed this following poem for many reasons; I hope you will too.

The Waking
by Theodore Roethke

I wake to sleep, and I take my waking slow
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear,
I learn by going where I have go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air.
And lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

Love, Love, and more Love,

Grace

This is not about your abilities

2007-10-15T12:26:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day-off for us IST teachers. However, this break did not translate into a weekend of travel due to the pending 1st quarter exams next week and the impressive piles of work that come as a result. Nevertheless, I was able to fit in a highly anticipated visit to Nueva Suyapa, to meet some old and new friends. I am now a volunteer for our favorite Honduran organization, Association for More Just Society ( ASJ), working with the youth transformation project in Nueva Suyapa, one of the poorest neighborhoods in Tegucigalpa
There were about a dozen youth ranging from 13-20 years old, meeting in the newly established recreation room on the Onesimo school grounds. It was exhilirating to hear every single one of these leaders-in- training, voice their desire to see a change in their neighborhood. Fortunately, I was not obligated to contribute much, mostly because they were evaluating their work from the last year. Regardless, it was so important for me to just sit and listen to them share their past experiences and their goals for the future of the group. Please pray for the continued strengthening of this group of youth in Nueva Suyapa and the work they do for the betterment of their neighborhood. Since I am stepping in to provide support for this project and feel quite underqualified, please say a prayer for me as well.
As an answer to prayer,a teacher this week shared a verse from Exodus 4:11-12 that uplifted me. In Chapter 4, Moses is confused about why he is chosen for this daunting task of speaking for the Hebrew people and asks God to find someone " better qualified." Then the Lord responds- get ready for this one-, " Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who give them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say." God is basically saying- this is not about your abilities, it's about mine. Whoa- powerful stuff. Recently, I have been feeling underqualified in so many areas of life ,but I have to hold steadfast to the truth that my gifts and talents come from God. This experience is allowing me to clearly see and trust that he is in control of every situation.

Thank-you friends and family for the encouraging emails and phonecalls this week; I can't thank you enough. I covet your prayers since it is going to be a very difficult week. I have always dreaded exam week and now I am the one the one distributing pain and suffering via tests. How do teachers manage?

Love, Love, and more Love

Grace

A new day to write on

2007-10-06T10:50:00.000-07:00

Attention Everyone: I am still alive!

Many apologies for the unnecessarily long delay in updating this blog; there were many times when I longed to be free to just write. It would be an understatement to simply say, “ I’ve been busy.”
Teaching has become a bottomless pit of work. It has steadily put a great strain on me, both physically and emotionally. In the last weeks, I have felt overwhelmed and overworked, to name only a few emotions. A fellow teacher shared with me the other day that the first months of teaching is all “ give, give, give,” with little to nothing received in return. I have felt the acute consequences of such a process.
After the initial two-week initiation, I assumed that I was winning the battle over classroom management- big mistake. I presume that what I was witnessing was the “ quiet before the storm” because the kids lambasted me with every comprehensible trick in the book, including those I never would have imagined. Austin, this is what you have been waiting (I am sure) to hear from me. It began slowly and annoyingly with my attendance and seating charts going “ missing” and the occasional abrupt singing of “ happy birthday” by the entire class. Then it escalated to the disappearance of my dry-erase markers and the incessant, paper ball throwing games behind my back. It peaked with someone throwing a pop bottle near my head while I was writing at the board and it culminated with a small fire being started in my class; yes, during class.
Whew, thinking about it still makes me cringe. Needless to say, major steps were immediately taken to prevent any further disaster. All the teachers and administration must have gotten wind of it because I have gotten countless offers of assistance. I had to grow a new layer of thick skin rather quickly and bring down the iron fist that I hastily acquired after the fire incident. The kids noted the change and felt alarmed at the drastic change in my discipline procedures.
I understood that taking on this job would be a challenge. I was ready to be humbled by this experience. I knew that in the beginning everything would appear daunting. I had even succumbed to wait for the moment when I would fail, but all of this did not lessen the intensity of the complete and utter lose of control I felt those days. I suppose I could relate a much longer and detailed account of the events following, but I think all that needs to said in order to calm your worries is that I prayed- a lot.
Of course, I initially despaired, but that quickly leads you to a place you can’t last very long without losing all hope and I find it a contradiction to be a Christian and not have hope. If there is anything that I gained from my undergraduate years at Calvin, it is- good old Christian Reformed theology-since depravity has touched every corner of God’s earth then so much more will God’s redemptive power reach every inch of his created order.
To be perfectly honest, I still don’t have a clue of what I am doing. Someone from church told me God is able to work perfectly in us when we don’t know how to do the work, because then we can be certain that when it is accomplished, it was all his doing. I don’t know how sound of theology that is exactly, but I do understand the underlying message behind the words. I am a big fan of common grace, so that withstanding, I have as of late, been rising in the early morning and acknowledging the fact that in order to do some “ good” that day, I have to empty myself completely and ask God to step in and do the work. God says to cast our worries on him, not so he can take them away, but so that we can be sustaied by his grace that is sufficient for us.
Yesterday, one of my students requested to talk with me in private. I was flabbergasted to hear this girl, who only a day before had stormed out of my class, while giving me the look of death, but now was standing in front of me, not only apologizing, but offering her help to make this a better class. Truly, I don’t know what to expect anymore. Every day is a new possibility to make mistakes and fail, but more importantly it’s also an opportunity to apologize, to be forgiven by the most unlikely of people, and to be redeemed. The following poem reminds me of God’s promise to make all things new, if I let him do the “ writing.” It assures me that tomorrow is another chance to experience God’s redeeming power.

Metaphor
By Eve Merriam

Morning is
A new sheet of paper
For you to write on.

Whatever you want to say
All day
Until night
Folds it up
And files it away.

The bright words and the dark words
Are gone
Until dawn
And a new day
To write on.

Friends and family: please continue to pray for me; I need it. Endless thanks to you Hannah for reminding me of the words of the Heidelberg catechism because my one comfort has truly become that, "I am not my own, but belong body and soul to my Savior." Your words echo in my head: “ Success is overrated. Faithfulness is what we need.” Thank-you dear friend for those pearls of wisdom. Amen.

Love, Love, and more Love,

Grace

A few pictures

2007-09-24T10:24:00.000-07:00

I haven't been able to take many pictures because I don't have a camera. These were taken from my little computer during the first week while at school. I think I have a fantastic view of the city from my window. Sometimes docile cows and soaring birds come and visit.

What are friends for?

2007-09-15T07:23:00.000-07:00

Innumerable times this month, I have given thanks for friends. One month ago today, I arrived in Honduras, and I know that my survival has been contingent on God's grace and the army of people that have supported me in prayer. Every online chat, email, skype phonecall, and encouraging word has been one enormous blessing. As I was preparing for my class, I found this poem, whose simplicity captured me immediately, a testament to friendship. Although I still find myself in writing paralysis much of the time, somewhat a result of a new teacher-like scrutiny of my scribbles, writing has become a great outlet, providing, inviting me into a process of catharsis that rejuvinates my life. Now warned, you may proceed with caution.

A few updates:
Vini, vidi, vichi. Well, as far as cooking is concerned. Although hours are poured into this art, I still find much personal satisfaction in my novice cooking skills, especially when it yields spicy curry, tasty salad creations,delightful marinated chickpeas, and widly popular home-made salsa ( Ryan Kruis should be given credit for the latter). Currently, I am brimming with excitement because in my fridge lies loads of fresh, colorful vegetables. All week I have been scheming about the endless possibilities.
Buses are a great place to think and laugh. Last Sunday, I was late to church and thus, in a hurry to catch a bus, but I thought it would be wise to pass up the approaching bus that was spilling out with people (I kid you not). Turn away a potential passenger- never! I was quickly ushered inside only to be placed to stand right next to the driver, momentarily moving my legs to one side every time he needed to shift gears. I had this huge grin on my face the whole time because honestly, when else am I going to get a real front row seat on a bus?
My students continue to test my patience and I find every time I draw for more strength, God is there to give it to me. That said, I was jubilant when one of my tenth graders, the ever garrulous Valle, put his talents to good use and led the class in a discussion about fatalism in poverty, social injustices in society, and Christian stewardship. I could hardly contain myself and reluctantly pressed forward with the rest of the lesson that did not include equally exhilarating topics.
Watch your step when you run. I ran into one of my students the other day while running,and I thought he would be impressed as I began to run the steep hill before us, but instead I must have stepped into a pile of something because he broke out in laughter. So much for that. He was nice enough not to mention it in class the next day and must have taken pity on me because he lingered after class,helping me put the textbooks back in order. Maybe I am making a logical fallacy of some sort, but perhaps embaressing moments can bring people together. Brian, you know what I am talking about here.
I miss libraries. Anyone who knows me, beyond superficially, is aware that I have an abnormal affinity to those great warehouses of inspiration and dreams people dully refer to as libraries. On good years, I tend to be a voracious reader, but even on the odd one, I continue my journey of connecting with another unknown mind through words,imagery, and,story. Now my attentions have turned to Latin American literature. Every day after class, I race home to read another short story by the highly acclaimed author,Gabriel Garcia Marquz. I haven't gotten the nerve to read 100 Years of Solitude,but there is still time.
I am also beginning Spanish classes-yes, I do need them because my Spanish grammer and mechanics needs an enormous overhaul, just ask my former Spanish professors-with the much loved and respected Pablo. I am anxcious to actually advance beyond middle school vocabulary and feel more conident in my Spanish writing. Maybe I will start doing some blog entries in Spanish as well. The more scrutiny, the better.

Oh, and here come the much anticipated poem that is a gratuitous ode to the friends who have, in kindness, poured the love, peace, joy, and hope that God has placed in their hearts, into my life. Melanie Hebert, this definately includes you. Thank-you.

What are friends for?
by Rosellen Brown

What are friends for , my mother asks.
A duty undone, visit missed,
casserole unbaked for sick Jane.
Someone has just made her bitter.

Nothing. They are for nothing, friends,
I think. All they do in the end- they touch you.
They fill you like music.

Love, Love, and more Love,
Grace

Last week was a long time ago.

2007-09-06T18:36:00.000-07:00

As I slowly walked down the hill home today, I found my thoughts turning to Carlos.
Carlos was born in New York City, but now he lives in Tegucigalpa. Among the sea of blank stares in 10th grade English, he is a bright spot in my class. He animatedly shares his thoughts, opinions, goals, songs, and even favorite dance moves with a quiet confidence.

He recalled today, in response to the unsavory doctor character in the book, The Pearl by John Steinbeck, that in the history of the United States, blacks were considered to be only on-third human. Amazingly, his thoughtful, but off-the-topic comment, was an open window for me to talk about how people, like our villan, can dehumanize other people because of the color of their skin or their social class. Then the skies parted and magically we transitioned into talking about foreshadowing and the importance of looking for clues in the actions of the characters in order to predict the unfolding of the story.

I quite possibly might have been beaming in class.

After asking me if we would do poetry this year, Carlos informed me that he in fact was a poet. He quickly made an addendum to his statement by adding that he was actually a " rapper-poet." His enthusiasm soundly convinced me that he wasn't joshing me. His participation in class( and his varied and eager responses)is undoubtedly one of things I look most forward to in the day. It makes me think I might be of use to somebody here afterall.

Thank-you all for your prayers and thoughts while Hurricane Felix mostly quietly came and left Honduras yesterday. Although, the damage was minimal in Honduras, our friends in Nicaragua did not fare as well. Of course, the most affected were the Miskitia people on the coast of the two countries where, due to the remoteness of the area, officials found it difficult to evacuate many. Continue to pray for the families of this group of people as some, upon being found unconscious, were hospitalized. Eventhough there were many survivors, as the hurricane blasted them, some some were caught in their boats; those rescued have mostly recuperated ,but bodies are continuing to be found washed-up on shore.

President Zelaya called off school for two days and it was an opportune time to catch-up on many things including:
-cooking a good meal. I introduced some of the teachers to Peruvian cuisine. The joy in my mom's voice as I called her for the recipe was enough enouragement to attempt this recipe that for some reason took me two hours to prepare. To my defense, I was sharing stories from my trip to Peru and manuvering a tiny stove at the same time, and we all know how well I do with multi-tasking
- running for the first time after my dengue fever episode. I asked my friend why she thought we kept getting gawked at by people, given that I had concluded that running outside wasn't an oddity since I had seen several runners throughout the weeks. She promptly reminded me that we were 1)women, 2) running, and 3)wearing shorts. Newsflash: being a woman, running in shorts is a sight to see. I was reminded why being a women in Latin American can stink sometimes.
-doing some awesome devotions from a book that I realize only now that I stole from Calvin's Service-Learning Center. Oops. Sorry Jeff
-doing a hilarious Pilates video
-sleeping.... but I actually still woke up at 5 am automatically. Strange.

One of my favorite quotes comes from the movie,Transamerica. The main character sullenly reflects on the recent events of his life and bemoans," Last week was a long time ago." Well, last week was a long time ago and I can't believe I survived all the Job-like challenges that God threw at me.

I read this poem and thought it fit. I guess I can get enthusiastic about poetry as well. I, unlike Carlos, don't think I am a poet, but I like the emotions that are evoked in this poem for me.

The Bridge by Leopold Staff

I didn't believe
Standing on the bank of a river
Which was wide and swift ,
That I would cross that bridge,
Plaited from thin, fragile reeds
Fastened with bast
I walked delicately as a butterfly
And heavily as an elephant,
I walked surely as a dancer
and wavered like a blind man.
I didn't believe that I would cross that bridge
And now that I am standing on the other side,
I don't believe I crossed it.

"So, that means you had Dengue," the doctor informed me.

2007-09-03T13:59:00.000-07:00

Queridos amigos y familia!
I was told this afternoon by the school doctor that I most likely had Dengue Fever this last week. To recap a bit: I had my first day of classes this last Wednesday. School was delayed by two days because of a predicted strike and transportation hold that was sure to follow. I made use of those two days and barely finished my lesson plans. I also on the way, must have gotten bitten by a friendly mosquito, carrying dengue, that made its way into my room because of the gapping hole on the side and courtesty of the conveniently nearby pila, a cesspool for mosquitos, I am sure, outside my room.
Well, I was quite sick last week, but I figured it was the flu and just trudged through the week since it WAS my first week of classes.The doctor says since I show signs that dengue is leaving my system, it would be pointless to run any tests to confirm it. Dengue is an epidimeic in Honduras , especially because of the rainy season we are in currenly. The up side is that now I am immune to this one strain of Dengue for one year. Of course, since there are four types, I can always get the other three and feel like death all over again. I am taking all the available precautions so that doesn't happen again.

Please pray for my housemate Allie and I since we are both since recovering from being sick. We had different symptoms mostly, but it looks like we are both on our way to good health again. Also, please pray for the kids in my classes as well. Obvisously, I was sick so that made the week worse, but it was an extremely trying week regardless. I am gaining more and more respect for teachers everywhere.

No poem today since I can't think of any poems that talk about dengue fever.:(

Mucho amor

Living in the along

2007-08-21T18:58:00.000-07:00

Friends,
Perhaps this may become tradition, I sure hope so, but below is another lovely poem that succintly captures my philosophy on life right now. My preparations for school thus far are in sore need of some help, many prayers coveted.
I was able to visit my old neighborhood Miraflores (woot) yesterday which was wonderful because I finally got to walk around a place I knew in Tegus. Although I did not find her at home I was able to talk with my host mom later that night and felt uplifted by her warm greeting and her statement that I was welcome back at"my house." I also went to the university, la UPN, where I had taken a literature class and magically ran into my old professor. It was one happy reunion.

Speech to the Young, Speech to the Progress-Toward

Say to them
say to the down-keeprs,
the sun -slapers,
the self-soilers,
the harmony-hushers,
"even if you are not ready for day
it cannot always be night."
You will be right
For that is the hard home-run

Live not for battles won.
Live not for the-end-of-the-song.
Live in the along.

by Gwendolyn Brooks

I know I am not ready for day, but I am learning that God is not interested whether I feel ready or not,whether I feel confident or not, or even if I feel called or not, he calls me to be obediant, to live in the along because that is where authentic faith and complete submission to the will of God is required. I am finding living in the along hard to do.

Much love

I thank you God for most this amazing day......

2007-08-18T08:06:00.000-07:00

Hello from the city of Tegucigalpa, Honduras!

I am sitting here in my classroom at the International School, with a beautiful view of the city below, happily contemplating the events of the last three days. I arrived just fine on Wendesday and was able to meet up with most of the first year teachers in Houston. The flight landing into the "bowl" was exciting and hilarious as before and the moment I stepped outside of the airport I took a deep breath and felt so happy being back in Honduras. To make matters even better, it rained the first night which of course put me in high spirits.
We had a wonderful reception from our collegues at the International Schoo, complete with traditional dances and warm hugs. Since then, we have been shuttled to orientation everyday since classes start about one week from today for most of us. In case I didn't mention it to you, I will be teaching 10th and 11th grade English,Drama, Media,and Speech ( I know, I just found out myself). I would greatly appreciate your prayers since I know I have so much to learn about being a teacher and mentor to the students in my class. I would also request that you pray that God may give me patience as I have felt frustration about being oriented as just another North American foreigner and as many of you already know I struggle to see how I fit into these different molds that I always find too limiting.
I am been overwhelmed, encouraged, challenged, and invigorated in many ways already and everyday I find another reason for why I know I am supposed to be here. I am also reminded of one of my favorite poems as I reflect on the awe and wonder I feel about what God is doing in my life and in the rest of the world and creation.

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of allnothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

by E.E. Cummings

I wish I could talk to you all and I hope this can be just one means through which we communicate ( skype, think skype). I think of so many of you often and the ways that God has used you to do a good thing in my life. Thank-you for caring and loving me.

Mucho amor