One Month Later.

For about the zillionth time, I am re-intregrating into my own community.

And for also the zillionth time, I love and hate everything about it.

There is a part of me that just longs for permanence. It’s been 3 years since I could claim any form of consistency in my life, whether in friendships, jobs, location, or whatever else you can think of… 3 years since I’ve truly felt that home was, in fact, my home.

I truly love everything I’ve done and feel it’s been the right path, but to anyone who romanticizes the idea of always going from one thing and place to the next, please know it is not without sacrifice.

So you will find many travelers who long to settle down.

Welllllll… I’m only half there.

There’s a part of me that wants to just get my own apartment and work at a job long enough to get promoted and find ministry projects to be a long term part of and establish a core group of friends who I can see and be somewhere long enough to actually take some classes  and not be forever haunted by not having the right education for all of the jobs I want, the ones that make a difference in peoples life.

But really I am just whining. :) Because I’m more than blessed. :)

Which leads me to what I’ve really been dealing with:

-discontentedness.

Not because I am unaware of how amazing everything God has done, and His Life that He’s allowed me so graciously to be part of.

I am discontent to my response.

I am positive that we are different for a reason, that the person advocating for clean water is doing so not because the AIDS gig was already taken, but because he is passionate about making clean water available to everyone. As Christians, we are all one body, but each one a different part. In the same way, just like we represent different parts of the body, we are all holding a bit of God’s heart for justice within us. Maybe not all of it because there’s no way God’s heart could be contained in one human being, let alone could that person handle the weight of it. But to a certain degree, when your heart is completely crushed and consumed by a justice issue, I think it’s because God’s given you a taste of how He feels about it, and within that, a responsibility to do something about it. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that means everyone who’s shed a tear over something as widespread as the Invisible Children documentary should hop on the next plane to Africa and go pop a cap in Joseph Kony, or even move to Uganda and live and work with former Child Soldiers. But I do think that passion is there for a reason - and if you don’t feel like it’s to go do something with your life about it, it could be you are supposed to share that passion with others and ignite it in people who ARE supposed to go, or it’s something you are supposed to be constantly in prayer about, interceding and handing it over to the God of the Universe.

Well, lately, I’ve been having these, yeaaah, inklingss….

Not about Child Soldiers or clean water or, well, even anything super Justice-y.

But about my life, and about suffering, and potentially about the connection between the two.

I just don’t feel right. Spending money. Saving money. Having money, really. Living comfortably. Living for a paycheck. Not really contributing to society.

I just want to give it all up.

Buuuut I dont know how!

There HAS to be a reason I am burdened by what I am burdened by.

That has to mean something.

(I realize there is no conclusion for this post. I don't have one, yet. Hopefully, one day soon, I will, though)

A taste of Maz.. or it's coastline, anyway

Umm.. Yep. So this is the city of my current residence.

REASONS TO LIKE WORKING IN A COFFEESHOP IN MEXICO

Today I met this french guy who grew up in the Ivory Coast, works in the Middle East as a teacher, and drove down from Seattle with a girl from California who he met two years ago in India.

“The worst sleep ever!” he laughingly complained, as he eagerly sipped down his coffee and explained the excitement of sleeping in your car only to be woken up with Military guns pointed at your face.

Their ultimate goal was to make it down to Guatemala City, where they’re going to go to some small, isolated villages and set up a volunteer based Montessori-esque school for some kids who's only other option is harvesting coffee. This is either the second or third official one they’ll have started… ahh, I love it! All from a homeless looking guy who is excited to shower in the ocean, has no shoes in sight and yet two master degrees and is changing the lives of children in different countries all over the world.

The dream, it's yours - own it, you can live it!

“That is the principal thing-not to remain with the dream, with the intention, with the being-in-the-mood, but always forcibly to convert it all into things.” 
— Rainer Maria Rilke

"How I ended up in a foreign country living with two babies, three married couples, two Chinese girls, some people from Pennslyvania, and two Mexicans," and other fun explanations.

If you had asked me two weeks ago what I would be doing today, “leaving everything behind to establish a new life in Mexico,” was probably not exactly what I had in mind. Yet here I am, four days of Mexican living under my belt, and 7 more months to go!


So how did I get here?

Well, I was just living regular Sara life in Saint Louis. Working, friendshiping, that sort. It’s the generic American lifestyle (plus or minus a few things, of course) that usually fuels my wanderlust and leaves me longing for foreign streets, new eyes, empty pockets and an overflowing heart.

This time was a little different. I’m slowly but surely getting over the whole, never stay anywhere for more than a few months things. It’s exhilarating, so many good things have come from it, (I’ve experienced God in so many places and contexts that I had never even known existed!) and I have no doubt it’s been the right road for the past two years, but it’s lonely and exhausting. I am weary of having eyes that see so much but hands that can only touch, never hold.

Plus, unlike two years ago, I now have a much more solid grasp as to what I feel I'm supposed to be doing longer term, and had various steps lined up to hopefully start pursuing seriously in January, and I’ve been working full time trying to save up in an attempt to make that a reality.

So when I heard of this program in Mexico called Marketplace Ministry, I thought it sounded awesome, but dismissed it quickly as ultimately a money depleting, dream crushing, time waster that would just mean I would have to start over once again with nothing, like so many times before, right back where I was at with little relevance to the future I am pursuing.

So that was that, I stopped thinking about it. I actually really liked my job and the people I met there, things were going well otherwise, I loved getting to spend more time with my friends; I was achieving St. Louis goals that should have been conquered years ago…. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t even have an overwhelming desire to leave. And then randomly Mayhecko started popping back in to my head.

“Hey. Stop it,” I would say.
“You don’t have anything to do with my future, I’m happy and saving money, go away,” I told it, with an eye glare and a nod of finality.

But alas, it persisted!

So I started praying about it. And everytime, the response would be the same, unrelenting, “Go.”

“Oh, uhh, sorry God, but you must have forgotten… That has nothing to do with my future… remember? You've instilled a passion in me for abolishing Human Trafficking and pursuing justice ... ummm, not a business class in a surf town in Mexico.” Haha. Cuz of course I know more about my future and what God wants me to do with my life than He does. “Umm, and, I’m pretty happy right now… not really good timing to uproot and make a trek into the unknown, wouldn’t you agree?” Apparently not, because the only “response” I ever got was just got more ‘go to Mexico’s.’

So I talked to Justin with Looney Bean, booked a super expensive flight, worked 8 shifts in seven days while still managing to spend 3 days preparing/celebrating my best friends wedding, said my goodbyes, packed, and 8 days later landed in a new country, without any luggage or ideas as to why exactly I’m supposed to be here, aside from the fact that to truly live our lives we’ve got to lose them.

So! To all who were wondering, that’s why I’m here, and this is what I’ll be doing:


I am doing a program called Marketplace Ministry, run through Looney Bean Coffee Company. Basically you live in a community with a bunch of other Looney Bean people, while taking Business, Ministry, and Spanish classes, working at their coffee shop, doing various ministry around the city (i.e. working at the dump or an orphanage, leading kids clubs or working with prostitutes…. Or all of the above and more!), and learning how to run a business that can be used either as a ministry or to fund a ministry, so that you are self-supported, etc. The program runs through the end of January but afterwards I can either stay on as a volunteer and/or help with the next program which starts mid-February.

Even though it’s uprooting once again at a time and for a reason that somewhat defies logic, I am excited and ready for whatever this season may bring, because I know that regardless of the challenges and the uncertainty of handing over the reins of control, it's not a dream-crushing, time wasting, money murderer - I feel confident that this is where I am supposed to be and I’m excited for all the things God has in store that are “too lofty for me to attain.”

‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord.“As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts “ Isaiah 55:8-9

Beni Swa L’Eternal!! (an off the field update)

So I know the post below this is sort of depressing and just talks about what a terrible state Haiti is in, and, well, that's true... but there are also ridiculously awesome things going on in Haiti and I just want to share a few of them! They make me so excited, you don't even know!!

1. During our time in Saint Marc, a counseling group from Switzerland started visiting the girls at some local brothels. While they were initially a little apprehensive about what sort of reception they might receive, they were instantly greeted with total warmth and hospitality, to the point that the brothel girls even closed down the business for a few hours just to spend more time with them. This lead to the idea to of inviting the brothelites over to the YWAM base every week for fun activities, refreshments, some great conversations, and a revitalizing change of environment. For the first time ever, there were girls from all different brothels, countries, and backgrounds in one place, enjoying each others company (okay... we saw a few catfights... but they always led to some moral lesson and forgiveness!) and relating to us and each other in ways that nothing to do with their employment. I was only on base for three of the weeks that the girls came, but it was enough to see the beauty in each of them, discover that, for almost all, this was not their lifestyle of choice (many viewing it as more of a form of slavery than anything else), and hope for the best for all of them.... which is why it was so exciting to hear that, within a month and a half, TEN of them had left the business! And that was while we were in Port-au-Prince, so there may be even more since then... This was a friend in Haiti's facebook status the other day:

"Praise God! Today the first prostitute who left the brothel was moved into a local pastors home where she will be discipled and given a chance for a fresh start! When she saw her new room at the pastors house, she sat down and cried- she's been praying for a way out for so long! God is moving!!!"

AAaaah!! Sooo good!!  So many big things are happening in Haiti ... change is coming!!

2. THIS ONE IS AWESOME! The first tent city we lived/worked with at the Medical Clinic New Beginnings is one of 3 tent cities under YWAM Saint Marc. There were 18 families living there, all of whom we got to know through teaching/working/living alongside them for a month. The tents were constantly flooded, if you were lucky enough to have a mattress, it was probably filled with water and mildew, hopelessness was rampant, people longed for housing of their own .. these were not just beggars off the street (and so what if they were?), these were business men, hard workers, busy mothers, mechanics.... who in one tragic moment had everything ripped away from them. 

AND NOW THEY ARE THE FIRST (YWAM) TENT CITY TO BE CLOSED DOWN AND MOVED IN TO PERMANENT HOUSING!!! That's right, Homes of Hope and summer teams have been working hard all summer, and my friends all have their own houses again, in beautiful Timmonet! I am so excited for them! I honestly did not think this was going to be a reality for them for ages still. ((and now I just read that two of them have been closed! Click and look at this goodness!))

3. Cite Soleil means City of Light, but you would never know it from the slums, guns, and naked children running rampant through the area. The last tent city we worked in was in Cite Soleil, the poorest and most dangerous part of Haiti (and one of the last areas to receive aid after the earthquake), with this particular camp housing about 6,000 displaced Haitians. We were the first ywam team to be sent to that location, so we met with the local leadership who then informed us that the majority of the children were orphans, food had ceased arriving, clean water was miles away, and they were in desperate need of a school, a church, a true football or activity field (to give the children something to do), and a clinic of some sort. In our last days there we were thrilled to be able to deliver food to the community, but it was disheartening not knowing if it could be the last. (When food is a rarity to a starving child who's country is covered in aid workers and relief packages, what happens to that child, to those amazing children who I've sung and danced with, months later when everyone's gone home and even the media's forgotten about Haiti? Those are the thoughts that plagued me while we were in Port-au-Prince...I found out last month that one of the little little girls I had gotten to know there, the cute little one I'm holding in this picture, had died. You can read about it here, in a post called And the Smallest Smile Faded. Those fears were not without reason.)

 
 So the internet has been GREAT because first I saw a video of another food distribution going on down there... then I read that our amazing Brazilian chef Walter really had it on his heart to cook for the people down there, and he's been making meals for the kids! Next I saw requests for funds and donations to help build a school/church/clinic, and now all the funds have come in and they are going to start building on September 1st! ...All they need are people to go build! 



I would lovelovelove to go so much, but alas, I am still financially depressed, hehe, and am hoping to do photogenx or something equally epic/unfortunately costly this coming January, which requires working non-stop til then to try to set off part at least part of the costs. Which means.... YOU should go instead! Yeaaah, I know it's in like... two weeks... but come on, live a little! Haha okay... fine... don't go (not really....of course go! geez!) for this... but you should consider going for fall or winter holiday! I promise it'll change lives, yours being the first.


Anyway, not sure if anyone still actually checks this, but just wanted to get the word out there that some big prayers are being answered in Haiti, so keep em coming! 
ps. If you are interested in donating to ywam haiti, click here to go to YWAM Port-au-Prince's site, or here for YWAM Saint Marc's!

squalor that leaves the mind gasping for air

"In the lights of passing shops,
we could see tattered clothing on a
frail humanity,
pumping water into an old bucket,
carrying a gunny sack of
dirty papers and rags,
and hammering on a
greasy bicycle frame.

My wife was crying tears and sobbing sobs,
"Take me back home!"
"I want to go back home!"

My heart was thinking,
"Is this a ride through hell?"
"Is this a night in Paradise Lost?"
"Is this what happens
when no one cares?"
"Is this the ultimate end of
a lost humanity?"
"And where are the shepherds
to look for the lost sheep?"

In Calcutta, you walk through human
stench and bone-grinding
degradation and watch a heroic
struggle against all the odds to
survive in a squalor that leaves the mind
gasping for air.

You walk through a no-man's land of
lepers begging
with no noses and
with stumps for fingers
(the flesh long since eaten away).

You see humanity with no limbs, partial
limbs, and horribly twisted limbs
vying for alms with mothers
clutching new-born babies to their
shriveled breasts.

You see children scavenging garbage bins
for bits of broken glass or metal
for 14 cents a day.

Then, before you can get accustomed to
the depths of someone else's misery,
the survival dance takes a different turn.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see an
enchantingly beautiful nine- or ten-year
old girl picking through a pile of
ashes to find some bits of
charcoal to sell.

Her beauty could appear on the cover of
any number of American fashion
magazines were it not for her filth, and
you ask yourself,

"What future does she have?"

"How long before she begins to sell herself for
some man’s quick joyride
at 30 or 40 cents a shot?"

And deeper questions jettison into your
conscience,
"What is my responsibility here?"
"Am I my brother's keeper?"
"Who is my neighbor?"

---

I'm not sure who wrote this, maybe David G. Marmon.
But it resonates with me, reminds me of Haiti - the
"you walk through human
stench and bone-grinding
degradation and watch a heroic
struggle against all the odds to
survive in a squalor that leaves the mind
gasping for air."
especially,
with the ending being the sort of questions that seem to be permanently embedded in my own thoughts, the answers always changing and never secure enough to be closed with a period.
I despair over being bound by financial limitations in my longings to experience and hopefully help change the world/at least one person's life, but it doesn't leave me without excuse or responsibility even with under $50 to live off of for the next who knows how long. This is perhaps a bit extreme, but challenging and thought provoking for me non-the-less:

"Definitely Mother Teresa is someone I consider a hero; not for her work and dedication to the poor and the dying and destitute; nor for the nice quotes she left us to write in our face book profiles. I admire her for her power to sacrifice without requirements. I have been seen how missionaries work around the world, and how non-profits organizations functions and there is always conditions and requirements of all sorts, from A to Z, from all colors of the rainbow and wedding ring sizes before "loving people".
I am not ignorant and I am quite aware that without money we can't do much; we cannot help a hungry child or cure someone’s disease. But seems that it was not that important for Momma T and she has never have those requirements to start to acting justly, love mercy and walking humbly: begging for food herself to feed the orphans was a sacrifice she made but she never required of God to provide everything before she started living the life she was called to.
How many people like helping the poor but with the condition of a home with a bed and a place to shower? Or How many of us are willing to live with the poor somewhere in the slums in Thailand, knowing that we can always count in having few dollars that someone, either family or friends, will deposit to held us to get our basic needs and once in a while a treat?
I want to help everyone only if I have my own comfort zone within my uncomfortable zone. I have conditions to help. I am a hypocrite; that’s what I am and I realized that there are so many things I have to confront. But Mother Teresa was not even close to be a hypocrite: she became an orphan herself (separating from her family), and lived among the poor leaving behind the comfort of her cozy convent in Loreto"

(-www.iamhumanity.blogspot.com)

the rubble is pushed aside, the bodies are out of sight ...

it's been 6 months since the earthquake, and judging by the media coverage (or should I say lack there of?), it seems Haiti has regained some stability and normalcy.

Well, normalcy, yes. I can attest to the fact that the Haitians seemed to have adjusted. Unfortunately what the past 6 months has made "normal" to Haitians is a life that no one should have to adjust to. Every single park, field, or open space has been converted in to a tent city (If you haven't read my previous posts, a "tent" could mean anything from a big hoop tent to a small camping tent to four big sticks with plastic wrap and rice bags for a ceiling.), some housing as many as 10,000 displaced Haitians (very possibly a higher number, that's just the largest that I personally saw), with another tent city down the road, and then on the next street, and the next and the next and the one after that and so on and so forth.
You do not need to go looking for the ones who have lost everything, they are everywhere.

So, yes, there's more of a sense of normalcy. But the "norm" is rape. The "norm," is starvation. The NORM is sleepless nights, hugging your few belongings tight as the rest of your tent gets flooded in torrential downpour and fishing out other possessions in the morning, not knowing when the next time you'll be assured a sip of water, unemployment and boredom resulting in theft and gang activity, hundreds of orphans in one place being "cared for" by people who don't have enough to feed their own children, the norm is children being robbed of a future or education because you no longer have the right clothes or supplies to be allowed in to schools, the norm are swollen stomachs and orange hair that's falling out from malnutrition.
Haiti is no doubt more stable than it was right after the earthquake. But instead of a tragic "event," it is now a tragic life.

And it is already almost forgotten.

Please.. PLEASE DO NOT FORGET ABOUT HAITI!!!

When the Earthquake was still really big, Rihanna, Jay-Z, and Bono wrote a song regarding the tragedy. During the chorus, along with some semi-unfortunate "ooh"ing, this is repeated:
"We're not gunna leave you stranded...."
I listened to it the other day when I was looking some Haiti stuff up on youtube, and I started crying when it got to that part. (haha, yea, okay, embarrassing... whatever, lol) Not because of the song (can't really claim to be a fan), not even so much about the message... but because... It's only 6 months later and in many ways we HAVE already left. We did leave them stranded... or at least I kind of feel like I did.
This song had no emotional anything to me when I heard it originally.
But now it's different. Now I've been there. Now I know the people. I've seen their destroyed homes, destroyed lives, destroyed families. And yes, I was there for almost 2 and a half months, and I worked my hardest while I was there. But that was already almost a month ago, and I've done nothing for them since. As far as I know, I will never do anything that helps the country of Haiti ever again. I know it's not about guilt, but I am sitting in my comfortable chair on the internet in the air conditioning, when I now have friends who don't even have a ceiling or walls, and I am not actively trying to improve their life.
The entire world was mourning with Haiti on January 12th, yet now it's as if the dead were buried with the alive, and no one's bringing flowers to the graveside.


***I wrote this and didn't publish it because I was going to add/edit it and make it awesome and make you care, but mostly this is just me realizing the depth of my experiences in Haiti and everything that happened, and really finally mourning for them, and wanting to be there again, very much. But now I am going to post it anyway because I've concluded I'll never really finish it, and I do think it's important to remember that Haiti is not instantly better just because TV's got something new to cover.