Better Late than Never!

Yup...I am still alive, and still in Ecuador, although you might not be able to tell from the lack of blogs I have written in the last few months. I even got an email from one of my biggest fans...a man named Dan Kemme...asking me to please update, even if its just a few sentences a week. haha! It really is not in my blood to write short things, but I will try to be better about updating!

Washing of the feet

As a Rostro de Cristo (“Face of Christ”) volunteer, one of our goals is to strive to see the face of Christ in the world around us. A few months ago, I was blessed with a moment in which I saw His face alive and right in front of me. I have wanted to share the following story with you since it happened, but reflecting about it on Holy Thursday brought it even more meaning.

In the rainy season, the streets in Arbolito turn into rivers and mudpits. Some are worse than others, but they are all pretty bad and make getting around much harder. Huge puddles of standing water allow bacteria and diseases to grow, even sometimes below people’s cane houses. In Sector Four, the poorest and most dangerous section of Arbolito where our friends Kika and Lucy live, a few houses even fell during the rainy season due to the weakening of the foundation in the wet ground. This season makes life a little more difficult for the already difficult lives of our neighbors.

One day in February after a particularly strong rainstorm the night before, I was walking with Carolyn to visit Lucy. Around Lucy’s house were some of the worst puddles that we had seen. It was literally impossible to walk to her front door because the entire street was filled with water, and even walking around the side to the back door led through lots of mud. Carolyn and I had been tip-toeing and puddle-hopping the whole way to Lucy’s to avoid getting our feet too dirty. However, as we took the route around the side of the house to the back door, I mis-stepped, and my foot landed in a big pile of wet mud. With a nice big “schhlooop” sound, my whole sandal got sucked in. “Shooot!” I said as Carolyn and I laughed and I pulled my foot out. It was just caked with mud. Lucy laughed at me as we walked through her back gate and toward her house. She handed me a little bucket of water so I could clean my feet before coming inside. I stood on her cement step, trying to balance as I took off my sandal, poured water over my feet, and tried to use my free hand to wipe the chunks of sticky mud off. I clearly was having a hard time and looking totally awkward, haha.

At that moment, Michelle, an 11 year old neighbor and friend of Lucy, got up from where she was sitting in the house, and walked over to me. “Mira” (Look), she said simply, as she took the little bucket from me. She removed my sandal and set it next to my foot. Then, with care, she proceeded to pour a stream of water over my feet and wipe the mud away. She did it matter-of-factly and almost nonchalantly, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary or special about what she was doing. I felt like I should protest – my feet were so dirty! But I was speechless. I watched, amused and deeply touched, as she passed her hands over my feet until they were completely clean. “Gracias, Michelle,” I said, unable to really express the wonder and deep gratitude I felt in my heart. God was right there in that moment, staring me in the face. My heart was full for the whole afternoon, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the power of the moment. Washing feet is something we do in church once a year, as a symbol, to people’s whose feet are really already clean. Nobody REALLY washes each other´s feet, right?! It was such a small act, but it spoke volumes. When I got home that day, I took out my Bible, and found the passage about the washing of the feet.

“If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet. I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do. Amen, Amen, I say to you, no slave is greater than his master, nor any messenger greater than the one who sent him.” (John 13:14)

So, there it is, plain and simple. Jesus tells us explicitly in this verse that we are to serve others, no matter who we are, earnestly, humbly, with love and care. I have been thinking a lot lately about the phrase "Blessed are the poor in spirit." I don't think I ever really understood what that meant, but after living in Duran for 9 months, I am starting to get it. It is just this earnest and simple love for others, an understanding of our need for God, and faith in Him that is truly inspiring. When I looked down at Michelle’s face that day as she scrubbed away at my feet…wow…I saw the face of Christ alive, staring right at me. It was so beautiful! She saw that I was in need, and so she helped. As she washed my feet, I knew she wasn't thinking about any barriers of race, nationality, age, wealth...How I wish that I could have such a simple, humble heart whose only instinct is to reach out to a neighbor when they are in need - even when it means stooping down to wash mud off of someone's stinky feet. I feel so blessed to have received this little but POWERFUL reminder of God’s call to love others. Every day, I continue to learn what it means to lower ourselves in the humble service of others and to encounter the joy that God offers us when we do so.

Allowing ourselves to be nourished

I´ve learned something about God´s love this past week. Mom and Dad were here visiting, and in their week here we received countless invitations from neighbors to share meals with them. So we accepted, and ate homemade ecuadorian meals until our sensitive american bellies were full, full, full. Mom and Dad offered to buy the food they´d cook, or to pay for the desserts they served us that they normally sell from their homes, and no one would ever accept any kind of payment or reimbursement. Mom´s [grateful] reaction to this hospitality was ¨how do you ever get back at these people? how do you ever get even with them if you can´t give them anything in return?¨

Well, the point isn´t to ´get back´, ´get even´, or try to match or even outdo their hospitality. It´s a lesson in humbly receiving. Our neighbors here have a beautiful gift of giving, wholly and selflessly. And sometimes we just aren´t so good at being on the receiving end of that. I´m finding that this year is a lesson in receiving the generosity and love that is poured out for us, in allowing ourselves to be humbled in a way that we are not used to and not always comfortable with. Sort of like God´s love, right? I mean, who among us thinks that we´ll eventually be able to ´get even´ with the love shown to us through the creation, redemption, and sanctification of humanity? The Incarnation, Crucifixion, and Resurrection? We can´t match that. But we can open our hearts to it, humbly receive it, let it take root within us, and reflect it to others in the way we live our lives. Jesus washed feet, but also had his own face wiped. And that Face of Christ is in the giving and receiving of love, which often takes place over a delicious ecuadorian meal. So maybe God´s love is like when you drop by a neighbor´s house and somehow end up with a heaping plate of rice, lentils and plantains in front of you when you didn´t even think you were hungry....but it´s so yummy that you eat it all anyway.

[thought: i wonder who brought the bread and wine to the Last Supper?]

Retreat Group

I find it hard, as the days pass here, to find the time and space to write out my feelings and thought processes. For those of you who know me and what a journaler I am, you will appreciate the fact that I am on my fifth journal (thanks Dawnie for #5!) and the entries keep getting longer and longer as more and more of my life spills out into the open cracks of this country. I will try to relay a few of the larger incidents of the past week.

This past week I had my first retreat group and God was there. It was awsome to spend an entire week with Manhattan College, and I was surprised by the sadness that I felt when I had to take them to the airport to say goodbye. One night for dinner they asked everyone to think of one word that described where they were at in the week, and instantly the word REVIVED came to mind. The group was freshing, they reminded me of all the reasons I first came down here, and lent me the energy to be passionate again at the challenges that overtime had become more and more cloudy. They reawoke my passion for sharing reflections and more importantly, sharing deep thoughts about God and His role in our world and lives. They were truly a blessing to me and they reminded me of all the good people that exist in the world and who are fighting to make it better. They were a little slice of America to me, and they truly left an impact on me that they will likely never know.

One of the conversations that we had during our nightime reflection was a discussion about simplicity and what it means in our lives. I want to share one of the thoughts I had during the day as I prayed about what direction to take the group in.

As I thought about simplicty immediatley materialism came to mind and I imagined myself cleaning my closet at home. But one of the things that I have learned in being here is that everything external, or materialistic, is really only a symton of something much deeper within ourselves. Simplicity is the cleaning of our hearts, to make room for the things that really matter. It requires that we take inventory of whats in there, and take everything out that doesn´t align with our purpose or beliefs. Simplicty means making space for God to dwell in us, to clear out all the garbage that we believe and try to follow. The bible verse, ¨You cannot serve both God and money¨ came to mind while I was processing this, and for myself I decided that my greatest struggle is not with money, but with seeing myself as number one. I cannot serve both God and Colie, and perphaps that is where the most complexity has come for me in trying to have a lifestyle of simplicty. This means dumping out all of my desires, letting go of all control in my life, emptying out vain wishes and goals and consciously placing Christ in the center of my life. Simplicty is, above all things, a state of being, and the best place to start is in the heart.

With this mindset I have been trying to discern the will of God for my next step in life, how I can keep Him in the center of my life. Please pray for me as I move into the second half of the year. as I discern and pray about where He will call me to next. Being with the retreat group has opened up my heart to the possiblity of doing campus ministry, so I would ask that you would pray for me in that, to trust that God has a plan if that is where I am called.

Pray for the kids here, the hospital, the neighbors as we enter rainy season, and all the retreatants who are going home to live out all the things that they found here; namely love.

I pray that your days are finding you well, and that the spirit of love in dwelling rich within you.

Enjoy the snow for me, it is the one thing I have not found worthy of missing.