fruits of a Labor

do you remember when I talked about being transplanted into a foreign land, and the promises He gives with that?

i am seeing the fruit of that Labor, this work He began and promises to finish. it's overwhelming when you marvel at His greatnes, utter magnitude, true goodness. and never ending faithfulness.

i write this as i ponder the faces of my fellow teachers, all of us just two days away from vacation. for me, it is simple unbelieveable that i have a place here, that these people are my friends, my support, my brothers and sisters. and together we work to change the future of a country. simple amazing.

for me, reflecting on this past year is going to take all of December. and I feel ready and eager to do so. the second year of teaching is SO different than the first and the third year of living in a this country promises to change me forever. there are certain qualities, perceptions and attitudes that are being forged, that are good and life-giving, that could never have been formed in my former path. just a snapshot:

infinitely more patient and loving, in a deep and base level way. i can't explain how it happens but there is something in the very core of me that is just different.

a whole new understanding of respect and rights.

a simpler, streamlined self

a person focused, not task focused mind...this is huge for me.

able to make hard decisions and trust that obedience is way better than 'sacrifice'

a fuller gratitude, for everything.

appreciation for simple things: time to rest, a beautiful song, lovely weather, particular harvests, hospitality, generosity, solidarity. this, at least, the government has correct - promoting and applauding solidarity. the nicaraguan people embody this trait.



photo credit

have you voted yet?

ok. before i get started i must clarify a few points.
- my political party/leanings are not important for what i'm going to say.
- i'm not trying to get you to vote for X or Y candidate.
just in case someone was already huffy about the title and not willing to read further. :)

so, a dear sister posted about voting. and i really appreciated what she said. and i wanted to add my two cents, because hey, that's what blogs are for right?

i just want to remind my fellow brothers and sisters in the USA to take advantage of a working democracy...so many people are living in non-democratic countries or worse, a dictatorship parroting a democracy. here, you can go vote, but there is little faith that your vote will actually end up where it counts, and even if it does, there is so much corruption that it is highly unlikely you will have a fair and democratic election in which the people's voice is heard. dead people get to vote, thousands of votes go "missing" and just plain old lying makes sure that the people in power stay in power. they've already done it once and are in the process of changing laws to make it possible for the current "president" to continue his term.

as i was talking with my students in a summit about the Holocaust and Anne Frank, it burdened me to see the lack of faith and hope they have in their own voices. we were talking about how similar pre-Holocaust Germany was to the Nica of today...and how can they, the youth of Nica, make sure something like that doesn't have any place to grow here...one said they could take action in politics, to vote, to be informed. but the majority say, why should i vote or have anything to do with it when i know that if i don't vote for them (FSLN), it won't count. if the people, the youth, don't stand up and use their voice because it isn't heard, then all you have is a shrinking population trenched in poverty that submits to a dictatorship because hey, what are ya gonna do? it's infuriating, to see a people lay down and let the powers that be do as they please because they think they have no say. that is not democracy.

but YOU, you get to be a part of a government that caters to your opinion, that allows groups and rallies and invites you to get involved, on one side or the other. and whether you are happy with the things are or not, its your RESPONSIBILITY to keep the democratic system working and vote. no, it's certainly not perfect. nor is it the answer to all our problems. and yes, it is frighteningly polarized.

but it's definitely a democracy, and we the people should make sure we appreciate that and participate.

*stepping off soapbox*

bienvenidos mateo...because what else are you gonna do?

as a kansas girl, i've always loved storms. i have tons of fond memories involving them...like the time my dad ran into the garage wall in our minivan because he was rushing to get us home in a tornado. or the gorgeous purple and blue light show i watched with my grandparents at the sedgewick county park, a night storm slowly unfolding. and then there was the time our basement flooded and my beloved aunt robin, at that time a college student, helped us move around our play things and haul 3 inches of water out of the basement. and i can't forget the time we all had to huddle under the mesh play crib to protect ourselves from any incoming glass as the wind whipped around the house. (that was also the year i got brave enough to explore further in the storage room where we hid and found all the Christmas presents. i still remember the horror i felt "i am SO on the naughty list right now!!!")

there was this thrill of something exciting, something unpredictable, something out of the routine. and a little scary, but i never doubted my parents ability to take care of me(obviously this was before my realization that man, before nature, has little control).


but now, here in nicaragua, storms are a bit...different. i have seen water just rise and rise and rise until it becomes a whirlpool in what used to be our cafeteria. i've seen it grow our lake like something out of a horror movie, taking down houses as it goes. it's taken lives, destroyed homes, ruined electrical systems, and basically wreaked havoc. it hasn't been until Nicaragua that i've felt truly fearful.whereas the rainfall used to help me sleep, it now keeps me awake.

like a night this week. the lightening was overwhelming, ripping the sky open and immediately crashing it back together again. the following school day was punctuated by screams as the children jumped with every lightening bolt, the power fleeing and the water slowly rising. every teacher kept their eye on it, willing it to pass as quickly as it could. and all this was before Matthew.

The good news, in all of this, is that it's been pretty calm for us. (I live in the orange strip,close to the edge of the red strip...the tiny lake you see there is Lake Managua, the house-eating one.)

Just constant rain and cool temperatures (sweater and sock weather if you can believe it). Luckily we are pretty high up in El Crucero and on steady ground. but the residents on the northern and atlantic coast part of the country are in danger. and the poverty in those areas is unreal. plastic and stick houses, very high unemployment, survival depending on crops...that are now being flooded. it's hard to feel that long-ago pleasure for something i now find so destructive. i'm sure survivors of Katrina and other natural disasters know what i'm talking about.

it just makes me wonder. when faced with one small element in a huge universe of unknowns like storms, why do we think we have so much control? isn't more logical that we don't? that we need someone to take care of us? that we need a little guidance? just wondering.

disconnected but there

it's a little disconcerting for me how hard it is to write these days. don't really know why, but it becomes increasingly difficult to form something coherent. let's see what we can find.

i miss free time. i have free time, obviously, but it is usually suffocated by the ever-present list of things to do. isn't there a mute button somewhere on that annoying soundtrack?

why is it that when you CAN sleep in and have a good time to rest, you don't sleep well? it's like there's this rebellion in my body that refuses to rest...i don't know if it's stubborness, a martyr complex or some bizarre health issue. what i do know is that it's frustrating.

things i've enjoyed lately: riding out to the farm on a limitless sunny day with my husband, chocolate supplies, a slowly growing ability to put space between me and my job, time alone with my husband, reading....a lot, glee, sunny saturdays so my laundry dries, the book of samuel, toasted buns with butter, working with my students towards their success, perfect fitting calvin kleins that cost me 7 dollars, being ok with me.

only 8 weeks of class left, then exams, then the end of my 2nd year at NCA Nejapa. time is speedy here. still learning so much.

for the sake of consistency

after weeks of division, a coming together.

hours of running to be met by a moment of rest.

agitation turned into peace.

answers found. energies recuperated. trust restored.

above all - reconciliation.


today was a good day.

rhythm

if my life were a EKG or lie detector test, there would be wicked leaps and drops, nothing really steady and certainly few things that remained in constant.

i'm wanting to add some rhythm, some constancy to my life, where i can. many of the things that make it so topsy-turvy are completely out of my hands, but i have a tiny bit of control over some things and am really needing to find a rhythm in all of it.

some efforts i've tried so far: daily bible reading, daily prayer with my husband, preparing my lunch to take everyday to school, writing to my husband weekly, afternoon rest moments, looking at the positive side of things. and now i want to add weekly blogging. (i have to admit i am really bad at getting this rhythm down, so forgive me ahead of time.)

so often i have a lot i'd like to write, but i don't for one of the following reasons: it's too harsh, it's too messy, it's too personal. but as i've been teaching my advanced kids about story, and how it is important to tell a story, one you believe in, one that makes you feel positive and reaches others, i've realized i need to tell these stories. not all of them will be world-shaking or even very interesting. but there is something in telling that allows us to recognize new sides of the thing we are experiencing.

so in the midst of all the things from this weekend: no city water, constant rain, blackouts, my nephew's dad in jail for an accident, debts they will have to pay, a continually flooding school, allergies, weariness, irresponsibility, and the sticky stain of corruption on this country, i want to tell you a story.

a good story. i hope.

it was friday afternoon, and all were anxiously awaiting the news that the new pump had finally been installed and we would have water again. i had just woken up from a fabulous nap under the watchful eye of the brewing storm, the applause among the plantain trees the perfect lullaby. my husband and i went to check the water situation only to find out it would be another 2 weeks before the water would be back. like many things here, the new pump did not work and they would have to wait to buy another.

so we got to thinking. and planning. and shoving. not each other that is, but old pvc piping. alongside my husband, nephews, brother-in-law,and church members on the soaked ground, we came up with a device to catch rainwater and direct it into our water tank. it made me smile to see us all there, muddy and wet but laughing as we wrestled with various pipes and glue to make this contraption that stretched 8 feet from the roof to the opening of the tank. there was this triumph evident in their eyes, excited that they found a way to beat our circumstances.

since it had rained pretty hard, i had a full barrel of water and i could finally wash some clothes. my nephew started hauling water from one tank to where i was washing clothes, one after the other. my husband bounced around from one project(a soccer ball stuck in the gutters causing a flood) to another (fixing the piping we didn't use). as i scrubbed out the week's dirt and let my thoughts swirl around in the lather, i felt grateful. in the midst of not very fun circumstances, i had seen how we had come together, how each one gave what they could to make it work, to live. there is so much need here. so much that we don't have. and without this kind of unity and support, we drown. we dry up and get beaten down. and it was refreshing to see it work, to find that it just came together. with the sun peeking out apologetically, i hung those clothes up with satisfaction. who cares if it's not fixed? we have what it takes to make it through...and i see this apply to hunger, poverty, corruption, fear, betrayal, lack, emptiness.

maybe we can't 'fix' nicaragua. but we can be the best versions of ourselves, together, without letting our surroundings weigh us down.*

(*this is often so very hard to do. case in point: brother-in-law in jail for an accident in which neither has insurance and the kids on the motorcycle were injured, lots of debt from that, waiting around in the dim police station trying to negotiate and all of a sudden, a thief has gotten into a bus in the police station parking lot and stolen the radio. and they send the youngest girl member of the force to run after him, slipping and sliding in the mud.obviously she didn't catch him.

it makes me want to scream...inexplicably difficult for me to be the best version of myself or for us to overcome with unity. pressed down. but not crushed.)

rain pounded on the zinc overhead...

and i half-shouted over the giggling 5th graders to help them finish their project. They colored and cut and glued and glittered, as i glanced at the rising water collecting from the heavy rain.

the final bell rang and we shouted a prayer to keep us safe, as the kids shifted their backpacks and fiddled with their white shirts, untucking them a stretch at a time. as we left the classroom, they all chattered excitedly over the situation, but i was remembering the last time this occurred: the steadily growing tide that consumed the office and the high school,a wake of recess snack bags and sludge cluttering the normally shiny surfaces, and the resulting wave of illness from the wet clothes and disgusting liquid squishing in our shoes. i put them to study math as i waited impatiently to know how we were going to resolve this one.

at 3:12, the stragglers crossed the soggy soccer field with me and a couple of other teachers, only to find the cafeteria a swirling pool of sticks, trash and a foot and a half of water. We huddled in the remaining sprinkles of the rain and i went to check on the office situation. there i found my other teachers with the director, now past the nervous stage and on to the witty stage, a skill we have from living in a continually negative and unstable world. if only we had known what that slithering pool around our feet was doing just a kilometer away...

now, i don't know about you all, but i tend to shy away from things i KNOW i'm not good at...like volleyball. and overwhelming crowds of people. and resisting chocolate temptation. and grief. maybe there isn't anyone whose really good at grief, but i feel especially unequipped at it. being a very sensitive person whose emotions swell and spiral and suffocate, i become very delicate and...different. and i just don't like it.

so you can imagine how much i was dreading yesterday, as i had to face my co-workers and students after the drowning of a dear 10th grader. that water that changed our afternoon as it twisted by our school changed anita's life as she tried to get home.she was trying to pass an unpassable turn that was running with the current, while my fellow teachers and i were up to our ankles in that same filthy water, laughing from some quip about the photocopier that was teetering on the table. it's sobering to think about just how NOT in control we are, for all we'd like to pretend and imagine.

i felt like a zombie as i walked through the day, pasting on a smile in front of the primary school kids as they had normal classes, tucking that grief away in the roof of my mouth, speaking with care so as to not dislodge it. but when i found myself with those i could be open about my grief with, i swallowed it, stone-faced and cut off. and all i could keep thinking was, how is one supposed to deal with grief? sure there are a ton of books and strategies and 'tools' that can be accessed, but i think it's like marriage and childcare and 'life crises'...they are just things that happen to you in life, things that you enter and depending on who you are and, i would say, how you relate to God, will affect how you deal with it.

as i listened to isaac sing 'alaba' and watched the students maintain vigilance over anita throughout the service, i rested in that pain. i let it be there and allowed myself to acknowledge it, to experience it. to cry and to laugh and to let it drip through my fingers.

i think my reaction, and that of many, is to hurry it up, to get it over and done with and to not let it take up too much space or time. but then i think of the truth that His power is made perfect in our weakness. and though i don't understand it, that it's ok to let that be true, to believe it, to apply it to my life. and not just with grief, but disappointment, fear, pain, loss, anxiety, worry, waiting, trials, tests, growth, change...whatever.

let it take the space it needs. but remember that the One who is in control, is the One who overcomes and brings us out of it. and Who will use it for His glory, which in turn always means good for us.

may His peace and provision cover her family and friends and may His presence be a balm on the rawness of this grief.