weakness

"Samson" 2007

Questions are creeping all over me. are we ever really strong? or is it only our circumstances, the stability of our surroundings which ground us, that make us feel secure? Security is an illusion if it is based on anything external, situational, temporary--maybe that's just what i see out the window.. Even our self-confidence wavers, and yet all else depends on it. Humans are created to stretch boundaries, explore, write, sing, make mistakes, learn, take risks, and do things that look impossible. Almost nothing is impossible when you want it enough, even the human body alone amazes me.. I've met people that refuse to give up.. and nothing stops them. I met this one lady when I volunteered at a thrift shop, whose calf arteries exploded across the room one day (I can't remember why, but she showed me her huge scars) and she was told she would "never walk again".. of course being a single mom in and out of the shelter, she told me she can't afford to be crippled, so there she was that day asking me which jeans made her butt look good.


Slowly, slowly I am growing a bigger faith in people. I have been missing this, but I think God wants me to get it. He believes in us. He believes in me... and we wants me to believe too. He won't give up either.. He knows our potential, for good and evil. We are infinitely capable of both (but we need no help for the latter). I am no better than anyone else. Maybe if life was harder on me, or if I had more opportunities to cheat, lie, and steal, or felt more need to protect myself, I would make different choices and give into different temptations. And once in a while we're lucky enough to have temptations to do things we wish we could say we didn't do removed--because we get caught.

Anyway,
I had a very emotional walk home today, but describing it that way already limits what it really meant, but this is why i'm not done writing.

I left for class at noon, the morning was fine until I was getting ready to go. Something in me just gave way to weakness, like a wave without a crash I felt covered in loss, empty-handed with nothing to give, and on top of that feeling guilty about it. Something inside me thinks I should have all the answers, always be the encourager... shouldn't I? If I claim to know God and be hidden in Christ, shouldn't I have so much to offer? I felt so guilty....... doubtful, and condemned for being so in sunlight.


The whole way to school the word 'weak' resounded. And I told Jesus he had to be strong, that I am so weak and he's gonna have to take this, that I know his strength is made perfect in weakness, but I still feel faint... incapable.. empty. I asked him to be strong for me.


I went to class, got through it, ignored it. Interacted with others. Spoke in front of the class after working in a group to analyze "Bartleby, the Scrivener". Intellectual talk, small talk.


Got to the bike rack, biked a little ways, unsure if I wanted to go home to an empty house. I called some friends to figure out friday, they didn't pick up. I biked a little ways, I forgot my gloves, my hands were freezing. I couldn't keep going, I was so aware of my own weakness, I couldn't make it up the hill. I kept asking Jesus, be strong, be strong in me.. whatever this is.. I couldn't keep going. I knew I could quote truth to myself, tell myself I'm good enough, loved and provided for, redeemed, but I didn't want to. I needed someone else's voice to tell me. I pleaded to God for someone to call me, anyone, I know this is pitiful now.. so I wrote to a friend in Winnipeg, "Please call me". I expected she was in class and wouldn't call. I crossed another intersection, saw a bus stop bench ahead and couldn't get past it. So weak, so empty and frustrated not knowing why. I sat down with my hood up, leaned my bike against the cold metal. I looked in my bag: a book, an apple, and I shoved my bible in before I left the house thinking I might need it. I was hungry, I pulled it out and read the first page I opened to.. "Listen to me in silence, O coastlands; let the peoples renew their strength; let them approach, then let them speak; let us together draw near .... "And something in my spirit rebelled against these words the same way when my teacher played "I am a Rock" by Simon and Garfunkel in class that same day.. all in me felt like liquid and nowhere near anything like the words of the song.. I read on, being broken, "Who has performed and done this, calling the generations from the beginning? I, the Lord, the first, and with the last; I am he.
The coastlands have seen and are afraid; the ends of the earth tremble; they have drawn near and come.
Everyone helps his neighbor and says to his brother, "Be strong!"
...
But you, whom I have chosen.....
fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand..."
And then the phone rang.
My friend from Winnipeg called, I don't even remember what I told her, I just told her I was weak, her voice on the other side holding me up on memories.. I haven't seen her in a while. She said she would read me something.. and she began to read the same passage, "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed....." I asked her to read the whole thing, and by the 29th verse I had walked again a ways, only water comes close to describing living words of a living God that we hoped for all along, that maybe he's good, even if he's not safe. The rest of the lines resonated beyond anything anyone except someone with full access to my heart could speak to me.
She also repeated those words back to me without even knowing they already pounded in my head all the way up the hill: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Months later, I still have sore spots, I can't even pray sometimes, so I am thankful for my friends. I think to be held up we have to be willing to lean on something, and it's certainly not our own understanding. But my memory is blessed with a glimpse of God in the pain, in joy, inadequacy, and he speaks in many different voices.
“Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God; But only he who sees, takes off his shoes - The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.” --Elizabeth Barrett Browning

SEEK

I live in Vancouver.
I am still more than a little lost in the mix of vibes I chase down Granville street. I finished my 3rd week at Emily Carr. I am feeling grounded in awe, I hope so high for these people. I live with a pastor's family again. I can't believe how God has paved this out. Their 5 kids from ages 2-11 are each so full of different sparking hearts.. DJ, Gabe, Vivian, Tye and Justice all came down last night with their python, so full of stories to tell about their days. The other day they invited me and Joelle to watch their snake eat a mouse. Gabe left a glass of change for me by the door and told me "I don't care about money."
My room mate Joelle hasn't killed me yet and I sort of love the way we can already talk about anything under the same roof. We have sit down dinners and bake muffins. We don't have any of the same classes, but we're in this together... we are very different people, but some important things overlap big time, it's funny how our stories of how we got where we are are similar, even the same: we both know God brought us, we only had to let our heart keep pumping, especially at a chance at art school.
A new church is being planted, I don't know numbers, but most people of Vancouver have never heard about true Grace straight, or at all. Last weekend I took on a sadness, for so many people worth so much, but don't know it. People who go to Chapters and find comfort there, and at the starbucks downstairs. I feel like Vancouver is sleeping, it's peaceful in restlessness here. This world is so short of how we should value human life.. So many desperate causes, and I ask where do I start and end letting myself get broken? 4 days in a row this week, I get told of India, Rwanda, Sudan, and Peru and asked for support.. passing by booths and billboards and protests, for china, for justice and hope, everyday this week as I meet new people I hear new kinds of hunger voices. I'm asking for God to say the word, I can't take on everything. And I'm turning over, for a people who have eyes but don't see themselves, or true substance, so hungry that they can't feel their hearts groan for something more. I ask God not to forget us, and I thank him because so many times this week my heart sank into joy and awe I couldn't hold, because I know he's moving. I want to be a part of it. To just care for people that walk around without life, to be arms and hands, everyone's searching from different places, the spirit of God is so patient, and so eager. I am holding on for my own dear life, that we can seek him and he will be found. And I don't even have to defend God, only search ....... frick, so many things inside that wish to crawl out in song or colour, but only flicker in words......................... does anyone know what I mean?
I'm still painting trees off my mind.
Creative Processes homework: build something to weigh a dragon.

written as summer falls down

Wow time flies like handlebars down a steep street.... I'm not gonna be able to wrap this around into something that makes sense tonight, but I figure I better start, and Joanna told me if I wrote something she'd read it.
I feel like a lot of things have gone in and out of my heart in the last days and weeks, and I think and imagine that this stuff is going to mean more in the next while, that this time of feeling like a complete bum has taught me a lot and it wasn't just a waste of minutes. Probably never again in my life will I be so untied-- in a new city, having time off to unpack my life and memories, and hold them close to me, and not have to work, or have a million people after me, or really much expected of me at all. I've been restless a lot of the time, but I've also been focusing on appreciating this crazy freedom. I've been free to choose and not choose to do even the things that I love to do. I realize I need shedules and I'll be glad in the fall to have a few fences, but for now I just love the 'what if' game.
what if nothing got done?
what if everyone just cleared the city and escaped everyone they knew for a while?


what if none of the success stuff mattered, the careers and labels and what your parents want, and what you're supposed to want, or down to the basest things like what you wear or how often you wash your face or how busy you are with social functions.. i feel like so much of our worth is actually measured in busyness-- all the important people are always busy.. as if that defines it.. i think some people like to make life complicated just to escape looking simple, empty handed.. but what looks empty to some looks like the picture of freedom to others... funny how that works out.



I think freedom is a fresh concept in my life that I'm going to toss around from hand to hand for the next little while, and maybe have it toss me around too.



I have also been thinking about money this week and listening to many different perspectives and ways of living with this big idea called currency. It simply puts a name to so much else, such impact, depending on who you're talking to. I decided today that money is meaningless, it is solely a means; or maybe a hoop to jump through to get you what you want, to be free to control and choose certain things, it may provide more options, but I decided it should never be my goal, even if it is for the rest of the people on this boat. (seabus) Even when people spend all their time focused on money, it never really is the core motivator; it means security, or comfort, or success, acceptance, acknowledgement or control. But for so many, all their time and forethought is focused on money: how to get it, how to keep it, how to get more of it.
What if money only served us instead of us serving it?
Experience and perspective shifts are worth more to me. I hope seeing the world, the birth and death of simple and deep forests, to see the complexity of the human heart will always be worth more than any digits.
I know I'm completely speaking from bias, because I have heating and clothes to wear each day, but still.. these are just thoughts without footnotes.

later that month..... and into september

Someone wrote in a letter to me, "I have an insatiable longing for heaven and I must see a glimpse of it everyday..." Sometimes I get crushed by distance. I am asking to see God everyday. I need to see Him, everywhere.. to see heaven in the rain when radiohead sings and people stand so close that the water against foreheads can't break the warmth, even as wet hair slicks across skin. To see Him reveal himself in the people who don't know Him yet, to see Him in textbooks and architecture, and to see hell too... both feel so close some days. But a new day always comes and I see with a new surface to my heart.
I am asking for a shift, for my paradigm to be wrecked, to pray dangerously for this city of light and dark and gray places. In the same space so many people intertwine, and a lot of them are very scary, and a lot of them are very beautiful.

I just pulled my face out of a pillow to write this and I'm so tired from the last few days, but I need to do this before too much time fills up the space between. Maybe the tiredness will help my thoughts slip out.. I keep relaxing my shoulders but they keep hunching up again until I notice.

Trek is over.
So much happened in the last month of Peru, and it's all still stirring in my head and heart.. I'll have to write more about it later. Earlier today someone asked me if I was jet lagged, not realizing the time change was only 2 hours. I said the time difference wasn't bad, but my heart feels jet lagged.
Debrief went by so fast, I can't even believe it. It was so good to get a little rest, and have some time between tough goodbyes. I wrote my friend who asked me about it that I know I'm no where near done processing all this thats been poured into my life and the changes in me that I'm left to live out, and I'm ok with that now, but I really feel like I can't settle down for another two weeks, when I get back from being a cabin leader at camp for a week. I feel like I haven't re-connected with my world yet even thought I've been back since the 17th of July, I've sort of still put most of my relationships on hold so I can focus a little longer on other things.. which I'm sorry about but I think it's the only way for now.
My sister gets married this Saturday. I've gone straight from the Mark center to her house to live with her and 3 of the other bridesmaids, and I'm fully committed to her this week as maid of honor since I haven't been around for so long. Weddings are so stressful, I'm so glad for Amy that the last few days have finally come and soon she can just enjoy all the celebration and then crash on a beach for a while and recover. The last few days have been so packed, but I've loved spending time with Amy and her other sisters...
So I have yet to see where I will be living in the next year, (my dad's apartment in North Vancouver) and won't be able to until after Charis camp-- more emotional and spiritual intenseness, but I know God will be pouring into me and I can definitely survive on his strength, enough to still pour out on others. And He's been letting me know this week in different ways that He is active and working here too- it's been hard as I've been trying to stay in contact with Peruvian friends and family and hearing about things going on there, and I still feel my heart is there.. and it's been hurting, but I know it needs to be here now and there is a place for me at home too, and that there are so many people worth pouring my life out into... that God has been calling and sustaining and forming, even when I wasn't around.

changing gears.

In Peru God was speaking to me a lot, about dreams. With getting to know so many people's hearts I saw so many dreams and different places in the paths of walking and running after them.. Even just within our team I just loved hearing these things, to see faith in so many different forms and seasons, planted in different places and light, I feel like I could write or paint about all this in a very thick book. I think something beautiful happens when our faith is intertwined in the things we long for a dream about, the visions of hope and higher things that we sometimes open up ourselves enough to have, and to dream with Jesus, even in all the vulnerability and nights of forget and hopelessness. To dream with Jesus. I feel like through out the trip Jesus was sort of tossing all these different seeds and things out there at us, and I wasn't the only one who heard them. They fell from many different mouths. I had a great conversation with Laura about this walking back from Fishtrap Creek.. it was one of those times you only realize something as you're saying it, each word you hear back from your own mouth and it only begins to ring truer as time passes over it being spoken out loud. I don't know why it was so unexpected, but Jesus came and taught us so much about faith, believing, it's like he was flicking off lids of boxes we didn't even know were closed.. we have these moments where some roof suddenly disappears and we realize we can ask "What if.." or "Why not..?" I don't know why it's always so surprising, but we can bring everything to Jesus, he told us that, but so often we don't even think to ask or bother to question why or why not. Why can't we ask for healing? Whatever part of us needs it, no matter how desperately, we just miss that childlike faith that asks.... to see Jesus in all circumstances.. the expressive God who meets us here..
And lately he's made me see it's time for me to dream again. For a long time Trek was my dream, and I sort of looked to that and poured everything into it, and that's ok, but now it's time to move on from that place. Sitting in on a log in the middle of a forest path he showed me it's just like when we sleep. We let our minds relax and let go of being in a control, of making sense.. then we fall into many different dreams easily at night. We are meant for dreaming, I believe that, and I've been telling a lot of people that and seeing that everywhere in so many ways now.. but it's time for me to take my own advice I think. I believe in art.. maybe I'll end up doing art as therapy, with kids who need to remember how to be kids again, victims of war, child soldiers from Cambodia or street kids and young girls who have to deal with traumatic burdens that no one should have to carry, let alone children. There's no shortage of needs for healing. I don't know what's ahead yet, I know it's something big . But still we have to give these things to him or they become burdens too..

It's like when you're learning another language when you listen to God speak something into your life. At first it just sounds like gibberish, you can't tell words apart, but as you catch some of the meaning of a word you begin to hear it everywhere, and it's so surprising that you never noticed it before. You hear it in different contexts and it only gathers more meaning, until you can use it yourself. Weird. And now I need to listen to my body and turn off all these sentences and to-do's in my head and sleep too, and even if I don't remember my dreams I know I let them practice being free at least. Did this make any sense? I really should start reading these things over...
thanks to anyone/everyone who read this and sorry that I enjoy spilling so much.
more pictures later.

kids

SATURDAY, MAY SEVENTEENTH TWO THOUSAND EIGHT. bre's secret diary thoughts.

"Writing the date out the long way makes me remember what I thought outloud to Sarah in the shade of the other day.. How sometimes I just feel the age of the earth underneath my young feet, all the civilizations today is built on, all we think we know.. I think and wonder why it's taking so long for this world to end, and I think it has something to do with how big God is. Some people can't see how the God of the old testament is the same God who sent Jesus; but there are so may sides and pages yet to be revealed to help us understand the meaning of all of God's beautiful names, that each of us needs to know. He is the Lion and the Lamb, the great "I am," and of course it takes a long time for such an unworthy reation to display his glory. And yet He chose us, and He will not abandon us. He has faith in us.. I told Otto last night, I was having a moment when listening to him talking by the fading fire.. I said that he other day (I remember where I was, coming back from the beach, just coming out of that brick alley onto the sandy street) I heard a faint whisper from God, a new, foriegn thought, a tight question presented itself right in front of me that I am no where near at the bottom of yet, that will make me examine a lot of the things I've done and will do....

I think God wants me to learn to believe in people more. This is such a huge side of God that I think I've sort of missed for a while, I haven't been swallowed up in this flame yet, the flame of love for his people, his kids, that he actually trusts with bearing his name, He has faith in his creation, enough so to give us free will and not interfere when we are learning to walk and choose and we trip and fall in all the holes he warned us about. He actually rejoices over us too.

Otto said he has tried to communicate a picture of fatherhood to his kids, to help them to understand more of his love and fear for them. He said sometimes it's like standing on the other side of a glass wall. They can see eachother and wave, but sometimes he's begging and pleading for them to hear his voice and they don't, he can see what's ahead of them sometimes, because he's been there, he can see the cracks and holes even as they fall into them and it hurts so bad. Each of his kids love differently, and he said he believes when children are young it's so important for their dad to be there, that htey may learn eachother's communication, in love and warning, sadness and worry and joy and calm, even if it's just carried in his eyes, he said he hoped he could somehow get a look across and that his kids could see and understand so that in the future they could communicate and listen to eachother better.

In Otto I saw another glimpse of God, his father's heart. Even all the way down here in creation. So God trusts us somehow. He belsses us with out guaruntee of return or being blessed back. He allows us to bear his name.

I am turning to realize that I am learning to trust my heavenly Father's character, I know He sill not fail because He is love, He doesn't change. I also know that people will dissapoint and fail me, I have see it's true. I am weak too. But I think God wants to restore and retrieve something in me there. He is crazy about His kids, and really believes in them, He really believes in me, has invested in me and wants me to love in fire and action and word and deed, he wants me to believe in his people too. How can I go walking around with this ugly crown on my head, this 'maturity,' to know the world isn't a perfect placea nd people will always fail, yes, both these are true I think, until Heaven comes, but there is sitll room to be a child. There has to be...

Or else who is going to run to Jesus?

The disciples were rebuked for hindering them. Kids still remember so many of the things the rest of the world has forgotten, like how to question without fear of the answers, how to trust, how to believe and hope and never pity themselves. This is partly why kids are usually so photogenic. they are naively aware of so many mysteries and are beautifully transparent in brilliant simplicity. .... To know someone may never kick their addiciton or pay me back or say the words I want them to say, and love them anyway, with unswerving faith in God's grace for them.

Yea. This is someone I'd like to be. And maybe I will fail at least most of the time, but I know all God desires of me is to be his daughter, to need Him and know it, and accept his provision."

Paint is fun, paint thinner is not.

Yesterday morning (sunday) we arrived back to home sweet home in Lima from our trip North, 16 hours on a bus through the night passed surprisingly fast. We are back with a lot of memories of so many new faces and places still fresh in our minds, and I don't know how to tell you about it all... it's so weird how you can spend so long looking ahead to something, and then it's over in a flash of colour. We spent so long preparing, and we found when we got there a lot of the time we had no idea what was expected of us. But we did the best with what we had, and I read about Jesus feeding the 5,000 with a few loaves of bread and some fish, and asked Jesus to do that again. We spent a lot of time with kids that we will never see again, but we loved them for the short time we had, and I prayed that our tracks would overflow with abundance and that they would truely be God's wagon tracks of Psalm 65. And I know they are all out of my hands now, but I pray that God will still hold them, and I have faith God can multiply love, even only a day's-worth of facepaint and singing songs and sharing secrets with giggly little girls.

I couldn't finish my blog yesterday. My head feels too full, I read some of my journal entries from the last weeks, and our trip alone took up a thick chunk, I'm on my last pages now...
We took a bazillion pictures and Lisa is working on a slide show for her home-coming party. I'm finding more and more my thoughts are turning towards home, everyone's talking about it, something is changing as we look at our time left as a number, in days even. I don't want to think this way.. I think about seeing lakes and mountains and eating food from home again, seeing my family and friends from highschool, and not being with my team and this family that I spend almost every moment with here. I'm thinking about the summer and all the changes that I am coming home to... new city, new job, new brother, and university in September, plus all the stuff that I don't see coming. I have been thinking about camp a lot, being with campers again, and the friends I see only a few times a year. I was reminded of Charis camp a lot on our trip north because we did a lot of kid's programs, and there is one little village outside Trujillo called Chicamita that was probably my favourite... this is a picture of me and some girls who told me all their secrets and I told them mine:
We spent 4 days in Trujillo, where we already have some Peruvian family (the pastor's family relatives, and our friends Carlos and Gustavo Lopez). From the start we knew we had to be ready to do serve wherever we were asked, and if we weren't asked, we would pray. We were given air mattresses to sleep on in the church in Trujillo, definatly the most fancy beds of the whole trip. The first day we were able to get our hands dirty and do some odd jobs, which was greatly appreciated. I loved spending time in the big empty sanctuary singing with the choir of acoustics, and praying on the behalf of the church. This is the church that recently had all the computer equipment and instruments stolen. But in prayer and on sunday too our voices without microphones didn't sound empty at all, every noise we made in the church was heard by God and as we interceded on behalf of the life of the church (which has been struggling lately with a lot of changes) there was just such a peace on that place I don't know how to describe it. I am learning lots about prayer. . .
We also had some free time to visit Chan Chan, where we saw Inca palace ruins from the 9th century, went to the beach, and got a ride in Caballitos de Totoros (boats made of this grass stuff) and jammed with Gustavo.

I did so much face painting on this trip, and Lisa got recruited too. This is a picture from El Indio, and really rough village where we did a kids program. So many arms and faces and voices right in our faces asking for maripositas and estrellitas and corazons.... but we were happy to do it. This picture captured a really hecktic moment when me and Lisa just looked at eachother and laughed because there were like 25 kids surrounding us, out of 50 that were there that we gave balloons and little cards to and the whole shabang.

These two pictures are from a little town called Chatochico. We spent two days there originally to help build a big bathroom for the church, but we mostly ended up moving bricks and the men did all the work. But at least we paid for all the supplies and made ourselves useful by sanding down and repainting the whole front of the church, and I pain a nedew sign. It was a long day in the sun, and in the afternoon we did a kid's program in the park for all the kids we could round up. So many great pictures but I can only put a few here... This was a donkey town and if you look down the road there's only desert where the sidewalk ends. There were animals everywhere, this second picture is right across the street from the church with a bunch of the ninos, the pastor was so kind to us.

Here's a picture of us doing our drime at the church in Piura where we stayed most of the trip. We did our drime a lot, and even taught it to a youthgroup in Sullana. We were told that day that there would be a "lesson"... whatever that meant.., we didn't know if we were supposed to be taught something, or if we were teaching... it was pretty difficult to teach choreography in another language but they got most of it. This was sort of the way it was most of the time, we would never really be sure what would be expected of us, sometimes more than we were told and sometimes we'd be totally ready to do a program and then there would be other plans we weren't told about. This was on the last mother's day service we helped out with, and I also gave my testimony before the sermon.. Mother's day is a bigger deal here I think, it probably has something to do with how people never leave home until their married and their mom's always cook and clean... but anyway, people really seemed to appreciate the message of the drime, and it's awesome to see how easy it is for people to connect through the arts...

Ok so I think pictures speak better than words, especially since I use way too many.
But I was looking back at my old journal, which I started the day before the first day of Trek training.. check out what I wrote, words that eerily reflect a lot of these last months of my life, even the last weeks. Some are Jesus' words and some are not:

True spiritual maturity is tested in our relationships with others.

"Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men."

Jesus will do what is necessary to qualify and equip us for service.

"Not what I will, but what you will."

The importantce of being ready, or feeling ready, is an idea with a stronghold on our culture.
It is important that we are able to see the difference between these personal feelings that distract us and the desires of our hearts that guide us.
Those feelings align themselves easily with fears and insecurities, and they are dealt with only as we face them honestly and choose to rise above them.

"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind." Romans 12:2

I am so thankful.

This is us in Colan, where we spent 3 days for our midterm retreat. Such an awesome time of rest and refreshment... and bbqs!
K so I really don't feel like even this gigantic blog holds half of what I want to tell you about Peru.. I think you and I will just have to talk soon........

pictures

BELOW:
Kiddies at the park that love when we bring bubbles.

BELOW: This is me, being cute. I have no idea how to make pictures not sideways.

RIGHT: I finished the mural today! I had a lot of fun spending time with the kids and I hope to draw with them more when we get back from our trip!

ABOVE: is when we took three buses to Serco, where we went on a hike in the foothills of the Andes to see a gorgeous water fall. We also saw some cool rocks and pretended to be cave men.

BELOW: This was taken on the youth retreat, with some of the youth. duh.

PS

Mail always brightens my day.

Jr. Rodolfo Rutte No. 718

Magdalena del Mar, Lima

Lima Peru

more pictures coming soon, sometime after May 19th when we get back from the north! Please pray for our health because apparently the water is very sketchy, and the trip in general is going to be physcially challenging, not to mention everything else.. We'll be visiting somewhere around 12 churches, serving in whatever way we can and doing kids and youth programs, and I'll be sharing my testimony in Spanish at least a few more times. Thanks for thinking of us and even checking this messy blog, it means a lot!

hoy dia

So apparently the soup that Angelita made me yesterday when I was delirious with fever was made from chicken feet. And mysterious lumps and bones. I was wondering why there was only noodles and broth. Sarah divided it up for me because the 3-prong foot/leg (and claws) were glaring out of the ladel in the murky black pot, and she had that much mercy at least, even though she wanted to put the whole foot in my bowl. So there I was, blacking out in the bathroom later on, not even knowing what they fed me. . .


A perfect example of Peru: (if you don't understand, don't worry about it)

-"Arturo's pretty funny."
-"Ya. He probably lives with his mom too.."
-"So does Carlos."
-"Which Carlos?"
-"Probably all of them."

Today we went to the hospital an hour away from Magdalena del Mar, in a much more run down part of Lima. I realized today that in my mind Peru is Lima, just one giant city. I loved putting stickers on little faces today and making crowns and signing Adrian's cast that goes all the way from his feet to his hips. I let one little girl braid my hair and we told the story of David and Goliath, and Dave made a good Goliath. His crash to the floor was especially dramatic and the kids loved it. We sang songs and played games, and talked about Jesus. Time passed so fast and I really hope we can go back there sometime. Time always passes fast when you're with kids. Saying our goodbyes was too fast as well.

A week's worth of words

APRIL 13TH

I write to you sitting cross-legged on my blue bed sheets, I am wearing my big crooked sunglasses that I keep forgetting to fix, there is a yellow Japanese parasol on my bed with red birds and flowers on it. It looks like it crashed here, which it sort of did because i found it on the roadside on the way back from Otto and Lydia's apartment. I am listening to the Carpenters and Juno is fresh in my mind, as well as memories of this week. I haven't written here in a long time, and I'm afraid I will have too much and at the same time nothing to say. Ouch, my stomach hurts..
The water is out again. Sometimes that happens. Hopefully it's back by the time we get home from the gym tomorrow morning. ah yes, the gym. We have a lot to laugh about from everything that has happened there and all the people we have met. I do a pretty good impersonation of Hector, but Percy (the new instructor) is only just warming up to us. We really hope people will come to english class, many people have shown interest at least. Either way I have enjoyed watching the sun rise over Lima between the kickboxing posters on the windows, and praying for the people pumping iron with us.

That reminds me, today we had church and apparently some police stopped by after and talked with Otto because there were complaints again, they complained about the drums somehow, even though there were no drums except for Kevin attempting to help us keep rhythm on his legs.. Anyways, Otto said the police didn't really take it seriously and ended up asking if their kids could come to english class this week.

On the floor my velcro shoes face eachother next to my black plastic bag of car paint.
This thursday I am going to the home for women (el hogar de vida) to paint a mural. I am having a hard time sticking to one inspiration, I am so grateful for this opportunity to leave some brushstrokes behind here, but it's hard to decide what to write on a wall. I used to draw on the walls with lipstick when I was little, and on the inside of the closet doors; I don't think my dad ever did find it. Now I have a chance to write a message to these kids, to these women, maybe I think too hard, but I just really want for when eyes meet with the wall to come away with hope, that it would become a promise written on the walls of their heart that won't wash off. Maybe car paint can do that. (I went to the market, found the shop with walls of paint, I said I needed acrylic to paint a mural on a wall, I picked out the colours, they gave me 6 containers they mixed in front of me, and then said I also needed to buy thinner (or, as they say it, "teener). They said this kind of paint dries really fast, so I have to mix a certain amount of this other stuff in, because it's actually meant for cars. Great.)

"Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." Ephesians 5:1-2

Today I went to the park to sit under a tree and try to get some work done on a draft for this mural, so I started sketching out some ideas, and one apparently wasn't going so well, because a pigeon pooped on it twice. I sort of gave up then and played volley ball with Kevin (otto's son) and Otto for a while, then Sarah came and started playing with three little girls there and their barbies. I went over and sat with them and they did my hair and it only hurt a little bit. Sometimes it's good to be white, because the little kids are sort of drawn to you, but then again so are the older men... Definitely getting sick of that. Cat calls get old fast.
This week has been difficult.
Each day has felt different, like a fight to stay positive and at peace, to feel loved. I learned a lot, but even when you win the battles you are still weary from the fighting. Yesterday I woke up feeling like I didn't sleep at all, I thought of how I could stay up all night praying and I wouldn't run out of things to pray for, but I closed my eyes until morning and I woke up with the same feeling. So I began to write pages and pages of things that needed to be turned over again and again, things here, things at home, and now there is a list taped to my wall that I don't want to forget about. I prayed and my eyes started to burn and tears swelled out and I didn't feel any lighter when I had finished. Later Sarah said we were having a team prayer meeting. We spent a few minutes asking God what we need to be praying for, I asked Him what this time is, and undoubtedly it is a time of faith. Faithfaithfaithfaith is so important, and I was reminded again of John chapter 15 that I love.

"Already you are clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides int he vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart form me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. By this my father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples. As the father has loved me, so I have loved you. Abide in my love."

This verse was read to me when I was baptized, and I have been learning about that verse since the autumn, and it keeps coming back.
Sometimes I just feel so small, like I can do nothing. Other days I feel like all the mountains in the world are under my feet and I am walking exactly the right path in joy and fullness. Last Wednesday I woke up and the sun was hot gold on my skin. I read Psalm 36 - "How precious is your steadfast love". I asked to be shown what that is and I was. I heard many love songs and famous quotes come to mind, and then Jano came over to me and randomly pointed out a few verses, as if they were a gift for me. I also found some other verses that I have come to love in Song of Solomon. God is love and God is a lover of art, I think. Listen to what I found..

"Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm,
for love is as strong as death, jealousy as fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the Lord.
Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it." (8:6-7)

APRIL 15

Now it is already a new week, and I feel glad. I taped a lot of papers to my wall, and in two days I go to the woman's home to paint the mural. Tomorrow Sarah and Jano are meeting with some directors of some program for families living in extreme poverty. We hope to meet with them a few times, buy them a few good meals and put on a kid's program that we've been working on. On friday we go to the children's hospital dressed as clowns and bandits, we have skits and stories and songs (almost) prepared, a craft, games, and a little memory verse bookmark that I am making for them to keep and remember that day. Saturday will be a long day, once a month the church has a breakfast, but people will be around all day because the whole youth group is going to a christian concert (Jesus Adrian Romera). And then it will already be sunday again.

Today I am praying for the kids we meet in the park. Please pray with me that our team can learn to love like kids, and really be a blessing to the community and draw people to the church, but also that we will be drawn to these everyday relationships we get to have outside of these walls, to grow more of a love for this nation. I have faith that in these next two months we will learn to pour deeper love from ourselves than we thought we were capable of, and it will make a difference for somebody. And i am grateful to God even if it is the lives of our team that are changed the most, that when we return to 'regular' life we can love more there too. Maybe? I hope so. It is impossible for love to be wasted I think.

APRIL 19

It feels like I've been sleeping for 3 days straight, tho technically it was only one and a half days in bed. Yesterday morning I wasn't able to get out of bed to go to the gym, I couldn't sleep much and my stomach had been hurting a lot the day before. An hour ago was the first time I have gotten up to go anywhere except the bathroom. I had a really high fever yesterday, everytime I moved I felt nauxious, I slowly raised my body to get to the bathroom, I felt like puking, and my ears started to have that fuzzy sound inside them, they were ringing, and my eyes had stars all over them, i could barely see the wall in front of me. I was supposed to paint the mural yesterday. Instead i missed devotions and a nice little team dispute about the gym, I missed playing with the kids at the home, I missed teaching english class. My bed is right by the window so I could feel the light change throughout the day, time passed like a cloud shadow, I still can't even believe it's not even 11am yet today. Sarah said Hector was asking about me at the gym today, there's no way I could've gone, but I'm feeling so much better today and I only have a little bit of a fever left.

Roxy has been reading to me. Yesterday we read almost a quarter of a book together, she even sang to me when the people in the book were singing "it is well with my soul". My team is wonderful. I had soup for breakfast and Jano and Angelita would simultaniously say "ohh, pobrecita, mi enfermita hijita.." (which means poor girl, my little sick daughter) Actually that was just Angelita. She also told me in Spanish that those who eat when they're sick don't die. Peru has the best soda crackers in the world i think.

After Spanish class is over Roxy's going to read to me again.. but until then i should probably sleep some more.

note to self:

don't dye hair in foreign countries.

Aloe Vera and kickboxing

I never saw the day coming that I would think 8:30 was sleeping in.
These last days and weeks have been longer than what time tells us. Last week we started our missionary workout schedule. Otto wants us to be in shape for our trip in May to some towns in Northern Peru, so we all signed up for a month gym membership. wake up at 6:10AM five days a week, walk to the gym, lift weights and do kickboxing with this crazy, angry Peruvian leprochaun man who can't count. If eh's not there, an equally intense woman comes and does step aerobics-- which is actually harder than the kickboxing. So we do that for a botu an hour and a half, and usually fall back into bed if we have time after the 6 of us take a shower.
Afternoon siestas (naps) have been a new part of our routine. I"m really glad we're doing the gym thing though, we'll have more energy and be stronger eventually...
On Palm Sunday I collected palm branches and gave my testimony in Spanish. (Otto translated it for me to read) I was nervous and excited to read the page and a half of mostly foreign words, and I could tell many people really appreciated the effort from us, and I only got my toungue twisted a few times. It's been hard with the language ebcause we can only communicate so much, and so none of these people have known our stories, much of our deep hearts or hurts or what we are proud to say God has written on our lives. We know some of their stories but I wish we could connect deeper, but I know just being around can mean a lot, so that's what I want to do.
I asked God last week what one-word role He wants me to fill here, what/who he wants me to be. I asked this same question with my toes in the sand and the face of a bay staring back at me in Costa Rica a year ago, and the last word I was expecting was 'daughter', but I knwo that's what He said at that time. In Peru, God simply wants me to be a sister. I keep wanting complex answers or missions to do, even just be an 'encourager' or 'peace maker' or something like that, but God requires more than that, and less than that.
I began questioning the idea of sisterhood, and began thinking of Amy, my favourite sister. She is such a beautiful part of my life. I dont know how I came by my family, I guess God picke, and He has belssed me immensely through them.

I'm learning a lot about family it seems, now that I am away from them. I don't want to be a little sister or a big sister, just a sister; who has the key to the deepest way in to belss, that very identity and connection that is already won and fought for. I want to be there for someone. I may not always be reliable, if ever, but I want to be a place of peace, or refreshment. There are those people that you talk with and come away stained and heavy, but I want to be someone who leaves people refreshed, drenching the driest, hidden places that aren't talked about. A valley of new air or a river of blue sky, or shade passing over clenched eyes. Water for the birds to skim over, to reflect light.

As for now, we are all very sunbured and clinging to our Aloe Vera. yesterday was the last day of a 2 night sleepover retreat we had for the youth of the church. We couldn't hide from the sun at the beach, no matter how many times we re-applied our SPF 50.
The retreat was a lot of fun and I think the youth really apprectiated it and won't forget it. For a lot of them this is the longest they've ever spent away from home.

I never thought about this:
Jesus was a carpenter, and he died against heavy wood. With every nail he bent his back over to be hammered, did his hands know they were to be peirced one day.. that his shoulders woudl be dislocated to reach the holes in the cross, so he could stretch out his life to a blind world?
My first tears in Peru slid down my cheeks in view of the torture of Jesus on a white projector screen. It's easter, how can we not think of Jesus' victory by the narrowest path, at least once a year?
I have been learning God can claim victory by the beautiful things, by songs and the softest breeze left behind a strong woman's walk. But He also wins through the ugliest circumstances, even the forgotten ones, even the ones wished to be lost by time.
His is the most humble man I know, to come dependant as a child, and take his first steps on hard ground, to learn our language adn even be accused by our laws. To break bread with us and breathe the same air, and even die from lack of it, yet tear the curtain at the same time. He said "It is finished.' and i'm going to rest on the anchor that holds, even in all these things that crash harder than waves each day.

"So have no fear of them, for nothing is covered that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known. what I tell you in the dark, say in the light, and what you hear whispered proclaim onthe rooftops. And do not fear those whoi kill the body but cannot kill the soul, Rather fear him who can destry both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows."

And I also read and prayed this today with 4 beautiful girls:

And Jesus went throughout all the citites and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep wihtout a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest."

Pray for the women and men of Peru.

today

I am blessed. I'm sure of it.

I am listening to Oleaner by Sarah Harmer and my stomach is full of macaroni.

These people hug you so close to their hearts. This morning we had devotions with the pastor and we've been getting in the habit of ending it with hugs. We all are apart from our families, we spent time praying for them, and it really made me appreciate the beautiful creatures I am with now. There will be a time that I won't be with them, but today I am. I like thinking of people as creatures.



I got in to Emily Carr.

I had to re-read the email from my dad more than twice to make sure it was real. It was!


I want to paint a mural or leave something for the church here. On monday morning Otto and Jano (the pastor) is meeting with the head of a school for the disabled to work out a plan for us to meet with them regularily.. Generally I think we'll just be hanging out with them, I might get to do arts and crafts with them and play some games or just talk. Some of these kids won medals in the special Olympics, some of them are are only physically disabled, some mentally, and some both.

Next week Laura, Lisa and I are going to visit the home for women and children with HIV for the first time. Hopefully I can remember how to knit.


I've really enjoyed hanging out at the park this week with the ninos. Yesterday we brought bubbles and I started blowing them with one girl with a pink bike, and then a whole bunch of other kids came. There's something so magical about bubbles, I don't care what it is. They were carried away in the afternoon sunshine and the kids loved chasing them on the breeze.

The two boys I played soccer with last time were there again so we played a game this time, me and Daniel (who I call ronaldo) won, Bernardo was dissapointed I'm sure.

We met a woman in the park named Desenya. She was selling earrings and we were singing, so we talked and invited her to English class and she came both times this week. She always brings her little girl with big brown eyes in her wrinkled school uniform. We want to know and be known in the community, we have been praying this week for God to open up opportunities and really connect with the people he brings within eye sight, that we might bless them. Already tons of things are happening, and I'm so excited to see what is going to grow.

I saw sunflowers again today and bought 2 postcards.


I am reading and writing things like this in my journal which is being filled up fast...:

'God is no respecter of persons, and this is something we are reluctant to face. We would like God's ways to be like our ways, his judgements to be like 'our judgements. It is hard for us to understand that he lavishly gives enormous talents to people we would consider unworthy, that he chooses his artists with as calm a disregard of surface moral qualifications as he chooses his saints.' - madeleine L'engle (walking on water)

I want to read about the life of David. Every day I am reading a Psalm.

one last quote that is newly written in my journal:

"To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not exist. " - Cardinal Suhard

I want to write more to you but tonight is a dinner at the church for married couples and I need to go help set up.
So please pray for God to blow us away with divine appointments. We are asking God to teach us how to pray. Spanish is a beautiful language, but there is still one more lovely, and it cannot be foreign. I think about how God spoke light, and the whole world into existence.. it makes me want to be a writer.

What we know so far..

Right now the sky is white and there's a breeze over the rooftops.
Yo necessito los lentes de sol.
I've kissed a lot of cheeks. The custom here is for all the girls to be kissed and kiss everyone whenever you say hello or goodbye. The men shake hands. I guess there's a bit of a catch 22 in this, but I don't mind it at all. Angelita, the pastor's wife loves it when we call her mami. They are a really fun couple, with 3 kids, one who just left for university for a year. Culturally, this is a really big thing for a kid to move out, tons of the middle aged men we've met still live at home with their mothers, sometimes even if they are married. Parents have a hard time letting go here, there are a lot of mothers who still make sandwiches and do everything for their kids, no matter how old they are.
Another Peruvian culture fact we definatly haven't seen the last of yet: people don't ever leave.
On saturday the church had a breakfast, and some of the people that came at 9 in the morning stayed until 10 at night. No big deal.
Today was our first church service. More kisses.
Each week one of us will be sharing our testimony. Sarah spoke this morning and Lidia is writing down translations so we can read it out in spanish. I hope the people will appreciate our efforts, even if we butcher the language. I'm going next week and I'll be nervous, but I'm also excited because no one really knows much about us yet.
I really wish I could speak spanish. It takes so much brain energy to always have to strain to understand, especially in devotions and sermons where I can only pick up the pieces of a few words and phrases I know. I wish I could have more than simple conversations with the people here, but I know it will take some time. We still laugh a lot. I get along really well with this one girl named Marina.. she always makes me laugh.
I've been drinking a lot of Yerba Mate.
Otto and Lidia funk are so Paraguayan, and I find it really comforting. They've had us over to their house a few times, which is just down the street. They baked us bread. I really like them. We went over and played wii a few days ago and Lidia made donuts. The way Otto talks is just like Levi Giesbrecht, with a lot of the same humor.
There goes the doorbell. It rings at least 10 times a day. So far I'm okay with that.
What else can I tell you so far...?
Oh ya, the big meal of the day is almuerzo (lunch). Breakfast and dinner are usually pretty small, usually just fruit or a sandwich. I'm okay with that too, tho it's such a huge transistion from Trek training when every meal was made for us, and always amazing. We're always cooking for ourselves here, and the fruit from the market is soo good. Guanabana and cactus fruit are our recent favourites.
I can see a river of blue sky now, which is my cue to leave you.

One last bit of insight:
On tuesday we're getting a baby monkey. Party on.

numero uno, bebe.

I have been wanting to start this thing off with some poetic explanation of life so far, living with people I've only known two months in a foreign land where everything is beautiful and new and warm, to give you my most present thoughts and perspective in Peru; but I can't find my nice pen and my thoughts are still scattered in trying to grasp this new place of breathing.
I am sitting at a black table with my journal on my lap, in the courtyard between the church building and the room we live in, in the pastor's family's house. Above me is the sky, between me and the sun is a green canopy. I just looked down at my white shirt (actually Josh's) and apparently I dropped pizza sauce on it.
We live in a quiet neighbourhood. There are parks in the middle of streets with tall trees and green grass and some flowers. The buildings here are almost like the old western towns you see in the movies, only a rainbow sneezed pastels everywhere. From the roof I can see into many houses and courtyards. I can't even understand how big Lima is. Nine million people. ( uptop is a picture of a shanty town.. just people who carved their lives into the side of a mountain. they all just steal electricity, and its gotten to the point where the government almost acknowledges them, they bring big barrels of water each week for people to draw from. reminds me of the garbage dump village in Guatemala.. )
Tonight we are helping with English class again. The first time was two days ago. Roxy and I are helping out with the intermediate class, mostly working on pronunciation and reading comprehension. The actual class part isn't all that fun because we can't really translate, but class ends at 8:30 and people just hang around and talk, because they are so eager to learn english. On tuesday almost everyone stayed until 10, which is a small sample of peruvian culture. Many of the people on our team know zero Spanish, but we have already learned a lot, and the Peruvians love teaching us.
Yesterday we walked a lot. We went to the beach with Otto and a few Peruvians from ESL class, though where we went was actually an old garbage dump, but at least the wind was nice even if the waves came in with trash each time. Later we walked to Miraflores and had a picnic, which is sort of a tourist area with a a big park called El Parque del Amor.
I'm still getting over this cold which is pretty annoying. On the bright side though, this is the perfect time to get sick because this week we're just taking it easy and not jumping into any ministries yet.
I moved into our bedroom to sit on Lisa's dangerous mattress which sort of sways when you touch it. The room us girls sleep in is a long rectangular room filled with our suitcases and beds, and a small pathway for us to walk through. Behind my bed is a large, open window with white curtains, which separates me from the two parots. One of the parots name is Pancho, and he whistles at us and says 'hola', and occasionally squaks his head off at random, obnoxious times.
The showers here are electric, like Thailand, but we have no trouble with them compared to the toilet. At least I seem to have trouble. The toilets plug easily, and they don't use plungers here. Jackie is the church accountant and lives here, but speaks barely any english. So the other day I plugged the toilet completely, so I went to Jackie and we filled up two big buckets of water which apparently fixes the problem. She gave me one and told me to pour it in really fast. I didn't understand how this is would work without spilling everywhere, but she didn't offer to do the first bucket so I just gave'r. So, I poured an entire bucket of water into the toilet which had barely any water in it, and I flooded the whole bathroom floor. Of course everyone was watching at the time, lining up out the door, so we all got splashed and I was laughing so hard.. (luckily Jackie and everyone else was too.)
Jackie poured the next bucket neatly and solved the problem. I mopped up the floor with a rag on a stick. Good times.
I know we're still in our honeymoon stage, but I am so blessed to be in this place. It's so exciting to think how much is ahead of our team, where Jesus is waiting to meet us, what we will feel and cry over and hate eachother for, what we will sweat over and regret and laugh at 5 years later. The people we will know, that will help us know ourselves and our creator better. To be fully present in every moment is difficult when you have such hope for the next one.