Living in another country, it is easy to hear the criticisms from detractors -both foreign and national- and become discouraged in mission. The temptation to think of international participation as "the talent" can be strong when working overseas. What right, really, do I have to tell people who are older, more experienced, and fully immersed in local culture what we should be doing in any respect? Visiting the pastors and leaders who are connected to the Nehemiah Center, it is easy to see that they are talented, passionate, effective people in their communities, so why should I be here? I'm not the only one who asks this question. Some of the participants who visit on service-and-learning or vision trips ask the same things. They wonder what good they can really do here long-term. They see that Nicaraguans have good networks and are organized among themselves. They can raise funds and build new classrooms for their schools. So why are we here?
For a long time I have been convinced that despite the reservations many North Americans have with foreign missions, and especially the short-term model, international exchange is a good thing. It has a biblical basis on many levels. Jesus told his followers to go and make disciples of all nations. That is a call for all followers everywhere to join in discipling each other. Ephesians 2 talks about how all have been reconciled through Christ so there is no dividing wall anymore. What better way to show that than to work together as Christians in our different contexts? Furthermore, I have been reading a book by David Livermore called Serving with Eyes Wide Open, and he points out that God's mission really began with Adam and Eve when he commissioned them to be his agents in the world. We are created to be the presence of God in the world, wherever we are. Yes, we are needed. Not in the sense that we have so much to give to those who are poor (although that is sometimes true) but because we are all part of the Body of Christ, and when we practice interdependence, we are participating in God's expanding Kingdom on earth.
Besides the biblical model of reconciliation and interdependence, there are other arguments for cross-cultural missions. We can learn from each others successes and failures, strengths and weaknesses. One example from my life is that Nicaraguan pastors want to get together for prayer and fellowship, but if no one heads up the activity and invites all the others, it's difficult for them to actually carry through. Something as simple as a person who coordinates the next gathering via text helps them fulfill their goal of meeting. A church may have grand plans for their building, the workers necessary, but lack the funds to carry out their plans as soon as they would like. An infusion of funds from an outside source can make a big difference. A North American church may want to engage with their local community, but since the majority of members commute to the building, they don't know how to reach out to their neighborhood; a Nicaraguan church that is more community-based can teach their Northern brothers and sisters how to interact effectively with neighbors. The spiritual emphasis of Christians in Latin America is very strong, and North American believers can learn a lot from the testimonies, prayer, and spiritual warfare of Nicaraguan Christians.
The list of why we should continue to travel to other countries to interact with different people and cultures could go on and on. We are an increasingly globalized society, and we can enjoy the benefits of that while being careful of the negative aspects. For some people, a visit from North Americans may be the only interaction they have with a white face besides what they see on television. Why are we here? To spread the word the Jesus loves all people. That God created us in his image and therefore we all have worth and value. There is no longer a dividing wall because Christ is our peace, and we are all being built together as a holy temple to the Lord.
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
Saturday, June 6, 2015
Family Overseas
It's June, which means I'm thinking about Europe since it's been two years since God changed my heart there in a monastery in France. Two years since I was the nanny to an adorable 5 month old girl. Two years. Not long at all, and yet so long.
Long because the lapse of time involves family. Little kids who matter to me are growing up, and I don't even recognize them. Granted, internet helps. I can iMessage, WhatsApp, Facebook, and email with my family overseas. But it's not the same.
So three weeks from today, I'm jumping the pond and going to see my Dutch and German brothers and their families. Now, some of you may be confused. What? Adrianna, you always say you just have one younger brother. That's mostly because it's easier than explaining how I have two non-biological brothers.
| My blood brother, Dirk and me |
Edo became my Dutch brother when I was one year old. My less-than-thirty parents decided to invite a 16-year-old into their house when they had a baby around too. When my babysitter suggested my parents needed to have another child, I adamantly declared that I didn't need a little brother - Edo was my brother! And he has been ever since then with visits an average of every three years of my life. He was at my high school graduation. I signed as a witness at his wedding. He helped me celebrate my 21st birthday. I helped raise his 4-month-old daughter for three months after I finished school. Our histories weave together like a brother and sister who are 15 years apart. Now his daughter is growing up fast, and it's my turn to visit his family so we keep that connection.
| Having fun in Paris together two years ago |
| Edo's family waving goodbye at the airport |
Tobi became part of our family when I was 8 years old. By this time my brother Dirk had been born, and the two of us were constantly going into Tobi's room, invading his privacy, driving him nuts. We had some rough patches, but at the end of the year, Tobi was family too. Hey, who isn't after they teach you how to shoot birds in the barn with a nail gun?
| Tobi, his wife, and his daughter in Germany |
| Tobi's newborn son and me when I visited two years ago |
My family has visited and received both Edo's and Tobi's families, and we all have a good relationship with each other since they can thankfully speak English. So when I say I'm going to Europe to visit family, it feels like the right description. They are more than friends to me.
I go back and forth feeling guilty and excited about this trip. Really? Going to Europe again after just two years? Aren't you on a missionary budget? Yes, but I've been saving for this trip, and this is not just a college backpacking trip. I need to see people because this is time that I can never get back with these kids who are growing up. Plus, I'll be squeezing in some work and visiting some IMPACT club leaders in Romania since I'm already over there. And I'm using one of the office's vacation weeks to go, so it's a good use of time instead of sitting around doing nothing or trying fruitlessly to work in Nicaragua.
So that's my big news today. I'm cleaning my room and dancing around because I'm so excited. In the next few weeks, there are several big things happening, but I'll write more about those when the time comes. For now, I'm celebrating my foreign family, looking forward to seeing them.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Mother's Day Weekend
Nicaraguans celebrate Mother's Day on May 30, and this year, that happened to be a Saturday. So how did I spend my weekend? Taking care of a child.
On Friday I went to visit my two former host mothers in León - one from 5 years ago and one from 1 year ago. Mother's Day is a really big deal here. They put on school programs, businesses and government jobs shut down for the day, and there are decorations with feminine colors everywhere in the streets, the houses, the offices. People go to spend time with their mothers and bring them something special or take them out to eat. I knew that I would not be in León on the official Mother's Day, so I went to my mothers on Friday afternoon to drop off their gifts and give them hugs to tell them how much I appreciate them.
I wasn't around on Saturday because I went to Managua to a friend's house, and while the parents went out with their teenage children for the weekend, I got to hang out with their adorable four year old son. From lunchtime Saturday to dinnertime Sunday, this little boy got my full attention. It was a wonderful break for me because I didn't have to try to do much else than manage the house and attend to his needs. We watched the cars pass on the road while sipping juice boxes, went to a park in downtown Managua with my uncle and enjoyed a miniature model of old Managua and a life-sized airplane as well as ice cream, fried chicken, and rice. I got to let him run around the grocery store like a crazy person, laughing at his antics. Sunday he sat by his best friend in church, and afterwards he got to ride his bike around. He was always glad to go to bed because each sleep brought the return of his family closer.
While we played in the hose and washed the car, I thought about what it means to take care of a child, and how I have had that privilege in so many children's lives. Some people may be good at babysitting because they want kids and consider it practice. I, on the other hand, am good at babysitting because I really like the kids I watch, and I can pour myself into them because I have no other responsibilities. I have the luxury of dedicating all my time to this child instead of trying to work, take care of other kids, clean the house, book flights to visit family, etc. For me, babysitting is the gift of being forced to live in the moment.
Around Mother's Day (in any country, I imagine), there is a lot of talk of potential mothers for single or childless women. I don't think of it that way. Instead, I remember the children I have built relationships with throughout the years. I think of my own babysitters and how special the regulars were to me. I think of the first few families who were my own regulars, going to their house several days a week after school or during the summer. I think of my Dutch niece and being her nanny while I lived in the Netherlands. I think of the family in BC that still makes me want to cry for missing them, and how I got to join life with them. I think I've already received a taste of what it is like to be a mother. I'm content with my place in life, and I'm happy to serve tired and frazzled parents with a break in their routine while I take care of their kids for a few hours or a few days.
It's a gift to be a mother, but it's also a gift to be a babysitter. I don't think of myself as a potential mother around Mother's Day; rather, I'm thankful for the kids that in some small way, I get to consider mine.
On Friday I went to visit my two former host mothers in León - one from 5 years ago and one from 1 year ago. Mother's Day is a really big deal here. They put on school programs, businesses and government jobs shut down for the day, and there are decorations with feminine colors everywhere in the streets, the houses, the offices. People go to spend time with their mothers and bring them something special or take them out to eat. I knew that I would not be in León on the official Mother's Day, so I went to my mothers on Friday afternoon to drop off their gifts and give them hugs to tell them how much I appreciate them.
I wasn't around on Saturday because I went to Managua to a friend's house, and while the parents went out with their teenage children for the weekend, I got to hang out with their adorable four year old son. From lunchtime Saturday to dinnertime Sunday, this little boy got my full attention. It was a wonderful break for me because I didn't have to try to do much else than manage the house and attend to his needs. We watched the cars pass on the road while sipping juice boxes, went to a park in downtown Managua with my uncle and enjoyed a miniature model of old Managua and a life-sized airplane as well as ice cream, fried chicken, and rice. I got to let him run around the grocery store like a crazy person, laughing at his antics. Sunday he sat by his best friend in church, and afterwards he got to ride his bike around. He was always glad to go to bed because each sleep brought the return of his family closer.
While we played in the hose and washed the car, I thought about what it means to take care of a child, and how I have had that privilege in so many children's lives. Some people may be good at babysitting because they want kids and consider it practice. I, on the other hand, am good at babysitting because I really like the kids I watch, and I can pour myself into them because I have no other responsibilities. I have the luxury of dedicating all my time to this child instead of trying to work, take care of other kids, clean the house, book flights to visit family, etc. For me, babysitting is the gift of being forced to live in the moment.
Around Mother's Day (in any country, I imagine), there is a lot of talk of potential mothers for single or childless women. I don't think of it that way. Instead, I remember the children I have built relationships with throughout the years. I think of my own babysitters and how special the regulars were to me. I think of the first few families who were my own regulars, going to their house several days a week after school or during the summer. I think of my Dutch niece and being her nanny while I lived in the Netherlands. I think of the family in BC that still makes me want to cry for missing them, and how I got to join life with them. I think I've already received a taste of what it is like to be a mother. I'm content with my place in life, and I'm happy to serve tired and frazzled parents with a break in their routine while I take care of their kids for a few hours or a few days.
It's a gift to be a mother, but it's also a gift to be a babysitter. I don't think of myself as a potential mother around Mother's Day; rather, I'm thankful for the kids that in some small way, I get to consider mine.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Upon Arrival
There's so many white people,
And they're all so big.
The smile breaks unbidden
At my inner dialogue
And my own surprised reactions.
I am a child in wonder
And it makes me feel vulnerable
To have that joyful marveling
Etched on my face,
But I can't help it;
I'm going home.
I picture my mother's welcoming smile
And the scratch of my father's beard on the top
Of my head when they give me a hug.
At the Hilton I look up and see the lights from the rooms
Where people have decided not to
Block out the world with the blackout curtains
And I smile at the bravery of their lives.
I leave my baggage unattended in the airport
- rebel that I am-
And don't feel my heart beat fast
Worried that someone will rob me.
Who is around to rob me?
I walk back and forth
Across the crosswalk,
Delighted by the way traffic stops and the traffic
Guards tell me to wait or go.
Gone for now are the chaotic crossings,
One lane at a time
While trucks roar past and cars
Honk their horns.
The city is glass and height
And brisk bright lights
That illuminate the puff of fog
Breath makes in the cold.
My hands get numb and
I marvel at forgotten sensation.
It's a whole new world
This place called home.
So familiar and yet so foreign.
It awakes the traveler in me,
And I stare out the window as the bus
And they're all so big.
The smile breaks unbidden
At my inner dialogue
And my own surprised reactions.
I am a child in wonder
And it makes me feel vulnerable
To have that joyful marveling
Etched on my face,
But I can't help it;
I'm going home.
I picture my mother's welcoming smile
And the scratch of my father's beard on the top
Of my head when they give me a hug.
At the Hilton I look up and see the lights from the rooms
Where people have decided not to
Block out the world with the blackout curtains
And I smile at the bravery of their lives.
I leave my baggage unattended in the airport
- rebel that I am-
And don't feel my heart beat fast
Worried that someone will rob me.
Who is around to rob me?
I walk back and forth
Across the crosswalk,
Delighted by the way traffic stops and the traffic
Guards tell me to wait or go.
Gone for now are the chaotic crossings,
One lane at a time
While trucks roar past and cars
Honk their horns.
The city is glass and height
And brisk bright lights
That illuminate the puff of fog
Breath makes in the cold.
My hands get numb and
I marvel at forgotten sensation.
It's a whole new world
This place called home.
So familiar and yet so foreign.
It awakes the traveler in me,
And I stare out the window as the bus
Takes me closer to the bed
That is mine.
Migrating North
I realize that I am very behind in updates about life, but let me catch you up a bit. Since my wonderfully refreshing and eye-opening, reflective vacation in Guatemala the first week of April, I have been working on several projects. The various details and arrangements for a couple of major events have kept me busy without wearing me out too much.
First, there is a group of 4 people coming at the end of May to learn and envision how their church can be involved with the Nehemiah Center long-term. The career missionary of Christian Reformed World Missions is on home service, so I am the person in charge of this team. Since it is so small, I am doing basically all the preparation, execution, and follow-up for this trip. I started sketching out the preliminary plans a couple of weeks ago, and I'm in the process of confirming details and budget proposals now. The team will arrive in Nicaragua May 21, so I have some time yet.
Second, my colleague Roberto and I planned and carried out the first national IMPACT conference for all the youth and leaders involved in the clubs. We have six clubs in Nicaragua, but only four showed up with their youth members. We still had about 45 people, and we enjoyed a day of games, reflections, recreation, and t-shirt decorating contests.
Third, I was planning a short trip to the US. I had a flight voucher that I wanted to use before it expired May 12. I have been working as an ambassador between 5 Nicaraguan churches in Chinandega and 1 main church in Pella, Iowa. When the Pella team visited in January, the idea of me visiting their church came up, and it seemed good to all of us. Turns out this coming weekend is Pella's famous Tulip Time festival, and I will be participating in raising funds for Nicaragua at the food booth, taking lots of pictures and videos of the celebration, and presenting in church on Sunday.
Though I can't be gone for very long at this time (things are happening with IMPACT clubs and church partnerships, plus this team that I'm in charge of), it's nice to escape the León heat for now. We are waiting for the rain to come, and the weather feels like it. It is very hot and humid, with temperatures generally sitting at 105 during the day and cooling to 90 at night with 70% humidity. Everyone was suffering. Hopefully by the time I go back the rains will have started and the climate will be more bearable. Until then, I'm enjoying my sweaters and vests and socks!
| I found a huge chair in Antigua, Guatemala and sat for a while |
| Preparing new materials to hand out to clubs at the IMPACT event on Saturday, April 25. Each club received a new set of markers, pens, lessons, and soccer balls |
| The IMPACT clubs designed their own t-shirts and explained the message and significance of their design. This group won based on creativity, club participation/cooperation, and message of the theme. |
| Speaking in my home and sending church this past Sunday morning (notice the sweater!) |
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| Working in the pool in the heat just to try to stay productive on all these arrangements I had to make! |
Monday, April 6, 2015
Compelled to rest
Praise the Lord for vacations.
I have become dangerously tired. I'm realizing this little by little. In the past month, I have had very few days off, and on the days that I have not needed to work, I still feel compelled to do so. In the midst of my exhaustion, there have been moments of rest, but nothing that rejuvenates enough. So I booked a flight to Guatemala the week after Holy Week so I would be forced to take some time off. As some of my initial plans fell through the cracks, I realized that this would be a good time for some solitude and silence with the Lord. A retreat, of sorts, but not one with conferences and self-help books. A time of rooting myself in the story of the Good News again.
As I have been reading a few books to guide me through this journey, I have been amazed at how well they describe my current state. I have been feeling out of control, Knowing that the exhaustion I feel is something that has been accompanying me for a long time, I have simply pushed it aside and kept going by sheer willpower. But that is dangerous. It has brought me to a place where I can't care anymore. In Invitation to Solitude and Silence by Ruth Haley Barton, she describes this state as "dangerously tired." It is a chronic inner fatigue that has accumulated over months for me. I can think back to the last time I felt truly rested, and it was at least three months ago. Christmas vacation should have been a time of rest and recuperation, but because of some work demands, a toe infection, and the desire to see a lot of people, it wasn't a break really. Barton says that this chronic fatigue manifests itself sometimes as feeling "out of control, compelled to constant activity by inner impulses that we may not be aware of. For some reason we can't quite name, we're not able to linger and relax over a cup of coffee. We can't keep from checking voicemail or email 'just one more time' before we go to bed at night...The idea of taking a full day off once a week seems impossible both in theory and practice."
I grew up with the idea of a Sabbath. We didn't do any homework on Sundays, and that day off has been something I have cherished. However, living in Nicaragua it has been trickier. A good portion of my work is networking. Sundays are a day of rest sometimes, but they are also a good opportunity to visit other churches, see people in León, or communicate with friends and family back home. In some ways that is restful, and in some ways it is more of the same activity that fills the six days of the week. Therefore, I have lost the idea of how to rest well.
I went to a retreat for the staff of CRC in North America last week, and we focused on identifying, telling, and listening to our stories. For one exercise, we had to identify with a Bible story. The first one that popped into my head was Elijah in 1 Kings 19. He had just defeated the prophets of Baal, prayed for rain to return after 3 years, and heard from Jezebel that she planned to kill him. On the run, he collapses from exhaustion under a broom tree. An angel feeds him and lets him sleep, and then after he rests, Elijah journeys to Mount Horeb where he encounters God not in the earthquake, the windstorm, or the fire, but in the silence with a still, small whisper. This story spoke to me where I was. I know I am exhausted, and desperate to hear from God in the solitude and silence of his presence. Providentially, this is the same story that the book I'm reading uses as a guide for teaching about how to enter into solitude and silence. I want to be rested, refreshed, free of compulsion to please others and myself, willing to care and feel again...
God knew what he was doing when he arranged this trip for me. I have been balking at it, feeling selfish for going on a vacation. There is too much work to do to take out a week of time. People will judge me, thinking I should have used the week off during Holy Week to rest (I was at a regional CRC retreat and then planning and participating in an IMPACT club camp for my group in Nuevo Horizonte). I've only been working as a partner missionary for three months - what is there to be tired from? But as I notice and acknowledge where I am, I'm learning (struggling, really) to let go of my own self-recrimination. I'm releasing the need for others' approval. I'm remembering the joy and love that flowed from my time in Taizé when I spent time alone with God. And I'm thankful for this opportunity to rest and become rooted in God's story again.At this end of this week, I hope to know in the center of my being who I am in God, and feel passionate about the Good News again.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
IMPACT in Honduras
Several times I have mentioned IMPACT clubs. They are a major part of what I do. If I'm not in meetings or writing emails about the overall program structure or trying to figure out funding with other people, then I'm thinking about what we can do to strengthen our program here in Nicaragua, or I'm heading off to my club on Monday nights and trying to plan for what we'll talk about. What is IMPACT, you ask? Well, to make a long story short it is a program that was birthed in Romania and has made its way to Latin America with a focus on experiential learning through games and stories, and an emphasis on community service-learning projects for youth from 8-25 years old. Generally a club is 10-20 youth within the same 6 year age range. They meet weekly, bi-weekly or monthly, and they are a place for children and young people to be heard.
Exactly a year ago, we received two wonderful young women from Romania to train a group of 30 people (some foreigners, the majority Nicaraguans) how to be mentors for IMPACT clubs. They taught us about the methodology of the clubs, the reasons the program was founded in Romania, how to play the games and engage the youth in reflecting about the games and themes in each lesson. It was a very full week, but we learned enough to get started. Nearly all of the communities involved in the Nehemiah Center's community development program started an IMPACT club. Some of the trained leaders started clubs in their churches or their own neighborhoods as well. To date, we have 6 clubs in Nicaragua.
However, a year is a long time. And after Christmas break (some even before Christmas) the clubs have been faltering. Youth don't want to come anymore. Leaders are finding it difficult to put together their own lessons. We have lost our way a bit.
So I went to Honduras to see their program. You see, Romania's program arrived on Honduran soil about 6 years ago, and IMPACT has really taken off there. They have contextualized it and tweaked it and built a whole extensive program around it, but they still have clubs. In Honduras they focus exclusively on children from 10-15 years old at extreme risk for poverty, gangs, drugs, etc.
These clubs meet in community centers, in schools or churches, or even in the street. They pray, talk about the week, play a game, listen to a story, learn about a theme, hear a related Bible story, make a commitment to do something in the following week, and then have half an hour of time to play sports - usually soccer. They also get a snack somewhere at the end of the lesson.
For me as an IMPACT mentor, it was great to see other leaders doing a lesson and also to see that just because kids don't seem focused or quiet or interested does not mean that they are not getting something. The most encouraging part of the visit was to know that I am not alone in my struggles with this program, and there are other people who have gone through similar experiences. Talking with other mentors renewed my determination to stick with this program, and they gave me good ideas for ways to engage the youth more.
As a coordinator for the program, I also come away with next steps and areas to focus on. Hopefully in the future our program in Nicaragua can figure out how to blend the two approaches to IMPACT clubs together. There are all sorts of possibilities for the future. I'm just praying that the Lord will give me wisdom in how to guide the process forward, whom to include in the conversations, and His vision for the youth that we work with in the IMPACT clubs.
| IMPACT clubs are a place for kids to learn but also for them to speak |
Exactly a year ago, we received two wonderful young women from Romania to train a group of 30 people (some foreigners, the majority Nicaraguans) how to be mentors for IMPACT clubs. They taught us about the methodology of the clubs, the reasons the program was founded in Romania, how to play the games and engage the youth in reflecting about the games and themes in each lesson. It was a very full week, but we learned enough to get started. Nearly all of the communities involved in the Nehemiah Center's community development program started an IMPACT club. Some of the trained leaders started clubs in their churches or their own neighborhoods as well. To date, we have 6 clubs in Nicaragua.
| Receiving IMPACT training last March |
However, a year is a long time. And after Christmas break (some even before Christmas) the clubs have been faltering. Youth don't want to come anymore. Leaders are finding it difficult to put together their own lessons. We have lost our way a bit.
| My IMPACT club from Nuevo Horizonte neighborhood at the end of August. Only one guy and the leaders are still coming every week |
| Acting out the story of the Good Samaritan from Luke 10 |
| Playing soccer at the end of the lesson - this club has the perk of being held in a recreation center |
For me as an IMPACT mentor, it was great to see other leaders doing a lesson and also to see that just because kids don't seem focused or quiet or interested does not mean that they are not getting something. The most encouraging part of the visit was to know that I am not alone in my struggles with this program, and there are other people who have gone through similar experiences. Talking with other mentors renewed my determination to stick with this program, and they gave me good ideas for ways to engage the youth more.
| One of the IMPACT mentors I met was giving the lesson |
As a coordinator for the program, I also come away with next steps and areas to focus on. Hopefully in the future our program in Nicaragua can figure out how to blend the two approaches to IMPACT clubs together. There are all sorts of possibilities for the future. I'm just praying that the Lord will give me wisdom in how to guide the process forward, whom to include in the conversations, and His vision for the youth that we work with in the IMPACT clubs.
| An IMPACT club in Honduras where the kids said their favorite part is learning about values |
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