Friday, August 29, 2008

Running to Stand Still

I know this song was originally written about drug addiction, but it speaks to my struggles with my flesh and my desire to stop running from things that seem to control me. We spend so much time and expend so much energy running when our deepest longing is to be free and stand firm. This song haunts me, but it carries an ethereal beauty that draws me to leave my CD on repeat for entire car rides. Bono sings with such emotion and passion. He doesn't have a classic great voice, it's just raw and real. I love it when I get this song stuck in my head on a long run, especially if I'm running through the woods. It somewhat personifies the peace that I find when I'm out running, just me, my Father and my beloved city. (Sometimes Thaddeus runs with me too)

Running to Stand Still (Watch an awesome live version)

And so she woke up from where she was lying still
Said we got to do something about where were going
Step on a steam train
Step out of the driving rain
Maybe run from the darkness in the night
Singing ha la la la de daySinging ha la la la de day
Sweet the sin
But the bitter taste in my mouth
I see seven towers
But I only see one way out
You got to cry without weeping
Talk without speaking
Scream without raising your voice, you know I took the poison, from the poison stream,
Then I floated out of here
Singing ha la la la de day
Singing ha la la la de day
She runs through the streets
With her eyes painted red
Under black belly of cloud in the rain
In through a doorway she brings me White gold and pearls stolen from the sea
She is raging She is raging and the storm blows up in her eyes
She will suffer the needle chill
She is running to stand still

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Created in Our Image

I love Donald Miller, especially "Searching for God Knows What" Perhaps I appreciate him because he speaks in a rambling manner much like me, only he's smarter and funnier. He has a not-so-secret crush on Katie Couric and imagines how things would go when he meets her for the first time and how poignant his interview would be and how she would fall in love with him by the end of the interview. People are attractive from far away and then when we get to know people all our junk and baggage comes through.

I personally would like to be Alyson Felix's running partner. Her dad is a pastor and she even listens to his sermons in the car while she is driving to practice. She's real gracious and endearing in all her interviews. I think we'd get along rather well. She does have a hitch in her running stride, but so do I. Even our running strides are compatible. She's still the second fastest woman in the world. I'm sure she has lots of issues, but she sure seems beautiful, genuine and caring coming from Beijing to my television set.


We have such a tendency to create people in our own image. We even prefer to keep at a distance so as not to mess things up and to preserve the image of them that we protect in our head. Shane says that God created us in His image and we turned around and returned the favor. Part of it is about fixing people, and part of it is about trying to get for ourselves what we want.

After I read Barack Obama's books and read a few speeches and decided that I would be excited to vote for him, my tendency was to not pay attention to him in the media. I didn't want anything to taint my view of him, I want to think that he believes like me and to do too much research and investigation will only disappoint me. This doesn't have anything to do with political preference, people do the same thing with athletes, authors, friends, significant others, movie stars, musicians and the like. We exist in the messed up part and so I embrace the baggage because until we get through the mud of our issues, we aren't truly freed to be all that we can be.

Interestingly enough, Barack asked Donald Miller to give the invocation at the DNC and he prayed a rather nice prayer.

Father God,
This week, as the world looks on, help the leaders in this room create a civil dialogue about our future. We need you, God, as individuals and also as a nation. We need you to protect us from our enemies, but also from ourselves, because we are easily tempted toward apathy. Give us a passion to advance opportunities for the least of these, for widows and orphans, for single moms and children whose fathers have left. Give us the eyes to see them, and the ears to hear them, and hands willing to serve them. Help us serve people, not just causes. And stand up to specific injustices rather than vague notions. Give those in this room who have power, along with those who will meet next week, the courage to work together to finally provide health care to those who don’t have any, and a living wage so families can thrive rather than struggle. Help us figure out how to pay teachers what they deserve and give children an equal opportunity to get a college education. Help us figure out the balance between economic opportunity and corporate gluttony. We have tried to solve these problems ourselves but they are still there. We need your help. Father, will you restore our moral standing in the world. A lot of people don’t like us but that’s because they don’t know the heart of the average American. Will you give us favor and forgiveness, along with our allies around the world. Help us be an example of humility and strength once again. Lastly, father, unify us. Even in our diversity help us see how much we have in common. And unify us not just in our ideas and in our sentiments—but in our actions, as we look around and figure out something we can do to help create an America even greater than the one we have come to cherish. God we know that you are good. Thank you for blessing us in so many ways as Americans. I make these requests in the name of your son, Jesus, who gave his own life against the forces of injustice. Let Him be our example. Amen.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Storytime

Buddha and I sat on the front porch and we curled up in the wagon to read a book. Earlier today I wasn't feeling the greatest and I was at the computer center when I spotted a familiar book in the pile of donations. Max Lucado wrote a children's book entitled, "You are Mine." Usually I'm not one for cliches and feel good language, but I have a soft spot for this book. Someone read it to me once when I was really sick my freshman year of college, man how time has changed. I pulled the book out and actually read it by myself before reading it together with Booboo. The story is about wooden puppets who find their identity in having the most boxes and toys.

The main character gets caught up in this pursuit, forsakes all his friends, families and values and joins this race. He thinks he's climbing the mountain to compete with the others but he stumbles into the puppet makers workshop. Punchinello is ashamed, but Eli the maker is patient and loving. He asks him a series of questions that reveal to him that his heart is not happy and that he hasn't been trusting in love and his creator. His stuff isn't what makes him happy or important, it's the fact that the maker created him with love and finds him special. Well, it was cute because Percy came out and joined us and helped quiz Buddha on the reading comprehension and Ma caught the end of it and wanted to hear the story and made Buddha sit still until he fully understand why Punchinello was special.

The simple things of this world confound the wise. I truly have found that the more childlike I am, the more ready and able I am to receive the Words of my Jesus. How beautiful that the story can be as important for Booboo as it is for me as it is for Ms. Linda. We have an incredible maker. I remember visiting Mexico for the first time and Saul was preaching and shared a story about his wife that has stuck with me since then. They were at an artisan market in Oaxaca and they were looking at beautiful pottery. He remarked about how lovely it was and he was so focused on the intricate designs, textures and colors. His wife however said to the salesperson, "I have to meet the creator of these works." They ended up going to meet the person and driving for a few hours, but the impact of meeting the artist and entering into her story brought so much more wholeness and beauty to that amazing pot. Oh that we would focus on the creator and not the created. Psalm 73 calls Gods children to remember that God won't give us anything that gives us more pleasure than him. Sadly I have to remind myself of this almost daily.

Guatemala is known for beautiful vibrant colors. In fact my mom/aunt usually buy me the Colors of Guatemala calendar every year, which I really appreciate. I want to make my own clothes some day. U.S. clothing is so sterile and institutionalized. I suppose that my limited jeans washing is about as close to protesting this as I normally get. Anyhow, as I wandered the streets of Panajachel and saw hundreds of vendors selling the same things, I couldn't bring myself to buy any of it, even though many of the artesanias were beautiful. When we stayed in San Pedro, there were only a few shops and I stopped in one and got to speak with a woman as she was making a beautiful textile. I talked with her a while, before purchasing several of her pieces and I gladly payed a bit more for the story behind the original art.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

mucho fuego aunque me duela, ayudara

At the Workshop of the Master

That time passes and everything changes...That the dream that I had in my soul all of a sudden has disappeared/ That the smile on my face has left me; my tears begin flow /At the workshop of the Master I come well/ He will cure my pain /He will take me into his arms and every hurt He will heal /The tools of the Master my soul He will mend

Al Taller Del Maestro

Ay como me duele estar despierto y no poder cantar
Como expresarte sin palabras que muero si no estas?
Que el tiempo pasa y todo cambia;
hoy lloro de soledad
Que el sueno que llevo en el alma de repente ya no esta
Que la sonrisa se ha marchado; mis lagrimas caeran
Al taller del maestro vengo pues El me curara
Me tomara entre sus brazos y cada herida sanara
Las herramientas del maestro mi alma El remendara
Martillo en mano y mucho fuego aunque me duela ayudara
A conocerlo y a entenderlo a saber que nada merezco
Amar es mas que un pretexto es una entrega es un negar
Mas que aquel sentimiento es la decision de amar
Al taller del maestro vengo
Alli el sol se pondra
Al taller del maestro vengo
Carpintero mi alma aqui esta
Al taller del maestro vengo
No importa el tiempo que alli he de estar
Ay de aquellos dias que hizo frio el sol no aparecio
Cuando el talento no lo es todoy el silencio
vale mas que mil palabras sin senti
doy una vida morira si
Tu no estas aqui conmigo
De que sirve mi cantar?
Para que la fama y las estrellas si el maestro alli no esta?
Para que decirte que te amo si conmigo no quiero estar?

huh moments


I have dreamed about running alrededor de Lake Atitlan for years. The most important things I took to Pana were my running shoes, camera and lots of books. After the annoying chicken bus ride, I was looking for my sunglasses and as I reached into my trendy guatemalan wool messenger bag, I envisioned my running shoes still on the rack of the overhead bin above my seat. Some gringo is probably wearing them as we speak. Guess I'll have to wait for my next trip. Maybe running the "Human Race" this weekend through NYC with Thaddeus will begin to make up for it just a bit.

Last night I watched Frida on Univision. I appreciate Frida much more, but Diego is still my favorite. I recognized some of the fake sites from Coyoacan and they went to Xochimilco and rode boats in the canals. I could understand almost half of it. I don't have anyone to really practice spanish with. I'm too scared to give my phone numbers to my Guatemalan friends because talking on the phone in Spanish gives me migrainas.

I could sit in coffee shops all day. Philly or Guatemala, no importa.

Coffee, running, pasta, bananas, books. I think those would be my five essentials in life. Cheese is a close sixth. Lean cuisine, healthy choice, and lean pockets weren't on sale tonight and I panicked and didn't know what to eat.

Andrew nearly went blind from rubbing chili powder in his eyes at the Mayan village we visited. Freakin hilarious, I died laughing. i know it's insensitive, but I mean how often can you say that's happened to you. He has an awesome story to tell everyone.

Blellca told me that she wanted me to have authentic Guatemalan food when I first got there. She took me to "Cajun & Grill" I giggled to myself swallowed my tongue and narrowed it down to the Jazz Combo, Louisiana Chicken and Bourbon Chicken. I went with the Bourbon chicken. I love Blellca. Soy Chapin!
Watching George Harrison's Pakistan tribute concert at 1 a.m. with Fernando in the pouring rain.
Andrew eating about 7 choco's in two days.
Guatemalan television olympic coverage. Were they there? Guatemalan's biggest olympic athlete plays badminton. Still no career medals for mis Guates. I could make the team handball team.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Coffee Scented Reminders


Reading a lot of Thomas Merton and Dorothy Day this week has helped me frame my time in Guatemala and my decisions I face here. I haven't really had much time to write about my reflections because my laptop is enfermo right now. That gives me time to read and share with people while I'm here at home. The other night I sat down and went through my pictures with Ma Linda and Buddha. They loved all the colors, tapestries, buildings, artwork, and friends that they experienced through photos.

I'm reminded throughout the day of many different aspects of the trip. My entire room smells like Guatemalan coffee because two bags burst in my suitcase. I highly recommend coffee scented bath towels, heavenly! Pretty sweet that I sat down in a hole in the wall shop where they harvest and grind the coffee fresh. It was like 100 feet from our third floor balcony hotel room that looked over Lake Atitlan and cost only like 7 bucks a night. The trip was a vacation and I definitely needed some space and perspective. Lake Atitlan and Antigua were the main touristy parts of the trip. It was tough, we spent a day and a half there when we could have hung out with friends. I'm not sure it was the right choice. I mean how often do you get to hang out with your Guatemalan friends, but then again, how often can you relax at a gorgeous lake surrounded by volcanoes. It rained shortly after we got there. We had enough time to grab a nice breakfast on the street and walk past all the street vendors in Panajachel. I went to grab my sunglasses and I suddenly realized that I left my running shoes in the overhead bin of the chicken bus that we had taken from Guate. It cost $4 for a four hour bus ride. Bumpy as all get out.

We took a boat ride in the rain across the lake. Andrew noted that crossing the lake was reminiscent of the helicopter ride into Jurassic Park. It is definitely otherworldly, even in the rain. We stayed in San Pedro, which is much more tranquil and less touristy than Pana.

We had some amazing Italian food at an authentic Italian Restaurante and grabbed some Gallo beer on our way to relaxing and card playing on the balcony looking out over the lake. I woke up with the sun around 5:30 or so and climbed up the hill and snuck into the gorgeous colonial style baptist church and spent the morning in song, prayer and reading. I wish I could wake up every morning to such tranquility and solitude. I almost forgot, when I was exploring the church, I was reading a Bible verse written above the pulpit and as I was focusing on the scripture, I totally kicked a giant cement block that blended into the floor below me. I may or may not have swore and hopped around for a few minutes before chuckling at the irony. I still have a blood blister in my toe. It really really hurt.

I grabbed a freshly ground and brewed cup of coffee and talked sports with the brothers who run the coffee operation. Man I love fresh Guatemalan coffee, personalized and made with love and humanity.

We went for a long walk before we made it to a beach and went for an hour canoe ride in the lake. So gorgeous and peaceful. It was perfect. I rowed by the shore for a while, past a school of kids playing basketball. I thought there was a lot of trash, and I was going to collect it and dispose of it, but they turned out to be floaters for crabbing pots and fishing traps. Expending such energy on the lake and being so alone and in such solitude provides tremendous amounts of perspective. We are so little, my issues are so little and God is so big. His love is so big, masterfully displayed in his incredible creation and his greatest creation, us.


It was so good though to get back to Guate and see our friends. We met at the Tikal Futura hotel which is a really nice hotel shaped after ruins in the Northern state of Peten. I got to see some people for the first time and we went to Blellca's house. There were about fifteen people there and the whole purpose was to get ready for our trip to the Mayan Aldea of Saquitikaj. My friends have such huge hearts for their people, and for me too. I didn't know half of the people there, but it was so much fun to prepare 45 bags of food with rice, pasta, sugar, coffee, beans, vegetables and more food. Volunteering and serving together is such a great way to build bonds and create friendships. Afterwards we sat around Blellca's living room, talking laughing and fellowshipping over some authentic Guatemalan Hawiian Pizza Hut pizza.

We got to sleep in until 6:30 and I was ready to go after a refreshing cold hand bucket shower. The girls and others had to be up by 4 a.m. to finish arreglaring the viveres. Fernando, Andy and I joked to them that we were up by 3 to pray together and make fresh baked postres for everyone. I was nestled into the microbus when some of my friends opened the door and said, "Pedrito, Ven aca" and before you knew it, I was balanced on some bags of food in the back of the pick-up truck off for the three hour drive. It's so cool that my friends want me to experience Guatemala, to know it's history and to be shaped by it no matter where I am. They make sure I experience things that I should, sit down and go over maps of the country, give me books, tell me stories, and carry such pride and beauty for their nation.

The truck ride was freezing cold, and yet I managed to get sun-burned. I sat in the back enjoying the breathtaking vistas as we meandered through the countryside up to the high country. I sat there talking to friends, praying, laughing and enjoying God's creation. We were greeted in Saquitikaj with applause, firecrackers and beautiful smiling faces. It was my second visit to the aldea and so I was not quite as stunned as my first visit. I remember feeling like I had just walked into a National Geographics magazine. This mystical experience was compounded by the fact that I quickly realized that there were way more women and children than men. Where were all the men? I assumed they were in the fields working, but my friends quickly informed me that the indigenous communities were hit hardest by the civil war and that many villages were left reeling with widows and orphans.

How beautiful to see my sisters and brothers in Guatemala naturally loving those in most need. It wasn't activism, social justice or a fad or a phase, it was a natural love response to the call of Christ to love as we've been loved. It was a blessing to see people come alive in this


element. Friends who tend to be quiet were all of a sudden captivating 100 children with a puppet show about pride, love, and dreaming big dreams. There were games, pinatas, public safety information (Many people are killed in Guatemala annually due to mudslides, earthquakes and flooding). We distributed all the food, clothing and toys we brought and played with the kids and their new toys for a bit. Pure joy.

I helped distribute food while Andrew gave out clothing to the men. I kept an eye on him because I wanted to see if my mountains of Maryland Terrapins gear was a big hit. Andy did a good job pushing them, but I think they were too big for most of the men, so the women will wear them, or they will be rags. I had dreams of a great soccer player going to UMD from this aldea in Guate. Oh well.

After everything was distributed we set off for a gorgeous walk down the hill to have lunch at someones house. I knew this would be coming and I was a bit nervous because food is a touch questionable. Last time I was trading food with people because I couldn't handle some of it. I joked about it, but it was probably the most amazing meal I've ever had due to the scenary and the background of love and sacrifice that went into the meal. The chicken on my plate was not bought from Fresh Grocer, someone killed it that morning, the carrots were grown out back, the juice was made from the trees and it was a huge sacrifice to serve such a large group so much food. I know I've never had a meal at such a cost before. Andrew made it known that he enjoys spicy food and so they prepared a special hot sauce for him. I looked up when I heard a commotion only to see Andy squinting his eyes and crying. Well, I practically started crying from laughter at seeing this and I will never forget this image. Everyone realized that Pedrito was a bit more mischievous and not so innocent as he appears when his tongue is extremely limited by his cognitive language skills. He was fine.

Friday, August 22, 2008

On Fixing People


I reread Henri Nouwen's Out of Solitude on the plane ride to Miami. That book really gives me perspective on a lot of things. One of the things that always challenges me is the concept of curing people versus caring for people. Curing controls and defends love, while caring releases love. Bob Lupton's Theirs is the Kingdom has been a favorite of mine for several years and I reread a story that ties into curing versus caring that is a real challenge.


On Fixing People


Most people saw Philip as a ne'er-do-well, a community write-off. He was an abusive father, a chronic manipulator, an irritating leech, and probably mentally retarded. I remember feeling relieved when he was locked up for a drunken escapade. At least he was out of the neighborhood for awhile.

That's how I felt before I glimpsed Philip through kingdom eyes. It happened one day while I was talking with our pastor. He had discovered some value in Philip that the rest of us missed. Apparently there was a rather keen mind behind Philip's dull appearance. And concealed by a host of irritating defenses was a heart longing to be tender and responsive.

At first I couldn't see it. But I wanted to believe it, so I made a commitment to invest myself in Philip. I convinced some people to create a job where he could learn the discipline of steady work. We secured affordable housing to give his family a stable living situation. There were hours and hours of counseling, teaching, modeling, and praying.

The changes that occurred were remarkable. Philip stopped drinking and assumed a leadership role in his home. His hard work began to pay off both in income and self-esteem. The church community became his family, and he demonstrated a genuine desire to grow as a man of faith.

By the end of two years, it was almost impossible to recognize the old Philip in the new. An incredible transformation had taken place. We all marveled at the life-changing work that had been done in him.

Then things started to unravel. Philip’s work attendance became irregular. He lost one job, then another. As some of his old behavior patterns returned, his home life suffered. His participation in church declined. We talked prayed, encouraged, and rebuked. Nothing worked. The backward drift continued and continues even as I write. We seem powerless to stop it and that troubles me deeply. Again and again I ask, “Why?”

Why, indeed? Perhaps it’s time to look at myself. Does my disappointment spring from compassion and care for Philip? Or is it a reaction from a darker side of me that sees his downfall as the loss of my personal accomplishment? Have I watered and tilled and waited in wonderment for what the Creator would cause to grow? Or have I been clipping and twisting and wiring a miniature bonsai shaped after my image? Could it be that Philip shrivels because of the manipulation of my expectations?

I’m beginning to see that fixing people is a dangerous business. Fixing assumes I know what the final form should be, as if I were a spiritual orthodontist who knew just what wires need tightening to produce the perfect smile. When I presume to fix someone, I shape that person with my values, doctrine, hygiene, parenting, vocabulary, housekeeping, nutrition, and a host of other things. Fixing is a license to fashion after my image one who may be uniquely created to flower in quite a different form. It is a dangerous business because it may block or skew the growth of another. And it may unwittingly intrude on the work that God reserves for himself alone.

But what about Philip? How can I help him?

Or is Philip helping me? Perhaps he is teaching me to serve without controlling. The drama of his life instructs me in the ways of being a good neighbor. He invites me to take a faithrisk, to gamble that in releasing him from the shadows of my expectations he will be freed to grow toward the sunshine of the Creator. Do I really believe God is the designer of all life? Do I believe my highest and best is to love God and my neighbor? Is that what you ask of me, Philip?

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Getting back slowly

My blogging is a bit cramped right now because I’m not sure where my laptop is. Hmm…that’s not so good. Getting adjusted to the U.S. has been difficult. A huge part of my heart isn’t in Philly right now. Not at all. I still love the neighborhood and the people, but it just doesn’t seem the same. My heart is searching right now, and I’m not sure how that’s going to go. Not exactly the best time to contemplate buying a house here. I’m definitely trying to find some clarity on that issue. I went for an ass-kicking of a run tonight in the dark up at Cobbs Creek Park. Man, I love running at night and it was my hardest run in months. Something about challenging my burning lungs and legs that brings me clarity and perspective on God, love and life.

I’m standing on an interesting precipice right now with little clue as to where things will go. I can’t tell you how many times a day, I open my cell phone to remind myself to, “Not look anxiously about you, I am your God, I will strengthen you, I will help you.” My heart was excited to see Guatemala and the U.S. play a world cup qualifier. It would have been so sweet to stay there and watch it. If only the hurricane had kept me there.

My senior year of college I wasn’t sure where I wanted to do Mission Year. I was pretty sure I wanted to go to Atlanta or Philly and when the Falcons met the Eagles in the NFC championship, I joked that I would move to whichever city won. I’m still in Philly and I guess after the soccer match, that means I’m going to be in the States at least for a bit longer. Guatemala played pretty dirty, especially Carlos Ruiz and that dude who sized up Brian McBride and tore his face off. That cost them the game, at least. I will be sending my friends a menacing letter, or as menacing as mi lengua permitira en Espanol. Watching the Guatemalan team play so juacali took some of the edge off my nostalgic longing to be in the land of the Quetzal. There was a part of me that was ready to move to Guatemala had the U.S. lost. I don’t want to run from things, but sometimes a fresh start is what you need.

Yesterday, I went to the Green Line with Tyree to grab some coffee and sugarless scones. We read for a while before walking over to Clark Park. I talked to my parents for a bit and I’ve been asking friends and family for prayer about buying a house. It’s kind of like I have this part of me that wants to buy a house and settle here in Philly and there’s another huge part of me that says, quit your job, move to Guatemala and be a part of what’s going on there. My dad was surprisingly encouraging and I’m not seriously thinking about Guatemala, but I am definitely questioning living here and working here. I sure don’t know what God’s doing with me, but I’m seeking to be empty, seems like I’m pretty empty. Who knows.

We met someone at the airport in Guatemala who was divorced three years ago after a thirty year marriage. She started to visit Guatemala for mission’s trips. Long story short, she met a Guatemalan doctor and now they’re dating and she seems pretty confident they are going to be married shortly, assuming that it’s God’s will. I know I’m sure quick to judge other people for things I’m certainly more than capable of doing and have done many times already. People are quick to decide that things they want to happen are God’s will and they just assume that it’s supposed to happen and they start to run with things. It made me a touch uncomfortable and to me the whole situation didn’t seem to be right. Maybe it’s just that I hate the thought of divorce and feel like God hates it so much and that people can work through things. I know that’s not really the point and that it sure as Hell is not my job to judge people, especially when I’m guilty of doing the same thing. It’s hard to be patient and not co-opt God’s will and mold it into our image and desire. That’s a safe recipe for pain and hardship. I read a good story relating to that in “Theirs is the Kingdom” today.

Buying a house, seems like the safe bet, I already question my job sometimes and whether I’m just a poverty manager. Buying a house would seem like selling out in some capacity, even though it’s in a low income neighborhood. It would really tie me down. I told ACHIEVEability’s realtor, who is a nun, that mortgage is a scarier m-word to me than marriage. I sure struggle with money and finances sometimes. On the flight home from Miami, I was talking to someone returning from Bolivia on a mission’s trip about savings and retirement accounts, hoarding, and trusting in God. No one has ever convinced me that savings and retirement accounts are any different than the dude from Jesus’ parable that built an extra grain silo to store his stuff and his life was demanded of him that very night. Any thoughts? I feel like I’m not being any different than the world and that freaks me out. Moving to a distant country might bring some short term relief, but it wouldn’t address the deeper heart issues.

It’s cool to see neighbors, kids, coworkers and community leaders excited to see me back here. It makes me feel good to be here. Deep down, I suppose I feel like I’m where I need to be. I’m trying to be faithful to make sure and not try to do the things that my flesh wants to do, but what God would have of me.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

My Guatemalan Heart

I have so much to write about Guatemala. My heart is heavy to be back, but I know that's not where I should be. I have beautiful friends there and it is a beautiful place. I'm so blessed that I was able to go (and get back before the hurricane came)I love Philly and I pray that I'm able to carry the love, perspective and hope from Guatemala to my job and life here. My laptop isn't cooperating right now, so writing may be a touch difficult. Keep me in your prayers as I'm considering buying a house right now.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

mi corazon chapino

soy estadounidense pero tengo un corazon chapino que continua crecer entre este pueblo hermoso. hoy visitemos una aldea indigena que fue afectado en serio por la guerra civil que termino hace doce anos. se puede ver las resultados en los ojos de los huerfanos y viudas como las escrituras de isaias. de verdad el evangelio es para servir y amar los humildes como ellos pero de nuevo jamas he visto gratitud y gozo como este pueblo. tambien anoche para ver los estudiantes guatemalteco de prepar por la viaje con mucha comida, juguetes, y ropa por mas de 45 familias y todo fueron donativos de sus familias y amigos. que un bendicion para aprender un poquito de todos sus historias y los razones del corazon de levantarse muy temprano para visitar un pueblo extranero y muy lejos de la ciudad. fui en el baul de un camion hace tres horas para llegar y me encanta a ver el paisaje en la detras de un pick-up. me gusta mucho las palabras como pick-up en espanol. deseo que podria a quedarme para unas pocas meses. les ensenemos sobre las planes del desanos naturales como terremotos y inundaciones. todavia no puedo a decir los letros de rr como carros o churrascos y la unica persona que habla ingles puede decir todos de las lenguas Juguemos varios juegos con los ninos, ellos se pueden a hablar en ingles pero la mayoria de los adultos solamente se hablan quiche. lleve muchas playeras de la universidad de maryland, pero casi nadie las quisieron. que mala honda. despues de los dones, nosotros almorcemos y ellos nos cocinaron muchos. fue una experiencia de mucho humilidad y nunca lo olvidare. cenemos con blellca, fernando y lindsay y no quiero a despiderles. la familia de fernando es demasiado amable y me encanta mucho que los hombres las disfruta a la musica rock. claro que si debora esta celoso de mi de pasar tiempo con fernando. quiero a escribir mas en ingles. voy a regresar a los eeuu y ojala que continua practicar mi espanol.

yo come tres chocos de banana y son muy ricos.

nos vemos.

ciao

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Oh Can't You See What Love Has Done!

"La paz justa y democratica no es simplement el cese de la guerra, implica exigencias basicas para la existencia del ser humano como la dignidad de la persona su promoción humana y desarollo integral."


~Comandante Rolando Moran

(A just and democratic peace is not simply the absence of war, it demands fulfillment of the essential needs of humanity through dignity, empowerment and development.)


I was in a U2 mood today. I suppose that happens quite often. I was wearing a U2 shirt too, which makes that even easier. We spent some time in the centro de Guatemala City and it's rather beautiful with the cathedral and the palace. Guatemalan history is so beautiful and so painful, which fits well into the juxtaposition of nearly everything in my life these days. I really enjoy learning more about the process of peace in general and how it plays out in different areas of the world, particularly through the eyes of people from different cultures. I also bounce my thoughts of peace off my thoughts of love and how it plays out in me in my anger, care, frustrations and faults. I really liked that quote above regarding peace. It was part of the peace treaty in Guatemala from 12 years ago. There was a bloody and excruciating 36 year civil war that still impacts the country today in so many ways. I would encourage anyone to read about it or ask your favorite Chapino to share with you. (As usual the United States muddied the water, and I'll leave it at that for now)


Anyhow, what's important is the pursuit of peace. "Seek peace and pursue it," as David wrote. All throughout the Scriptures and pages of speeches and works of my favorite peacemakers, there echos this sentiment that peace is not a vacuum, it is not empty, but it is a term that implies fullness, wholeness and presence, not absence.

As I was reflecting on peace, I was feeling "Window in the Sky." I was singing it throughout the day, I tried to traducirlo a Espanol and sing it in Spanish, that's always fun, a combination of bad linguistics and a poor voice. It's rather freeing though to embrace my imperfections and enjoy the best that I can produce and just make a joyful noise and not worry about what others say. I don't really care what you think ;c) I should be able to imbed the video, but alas, I'm technically challenged ahorita, so you can just click on the title to see the video. Higly recommended!

Window in the Sky

The shackles are undone
The bullets quit the gun
The heat that’s in the sun
Will keep us when there’s none
The rule has been disproved
The stone it has been moved
The grave is now a groove
All debts are removed

Oh can’t you see what love has done?
Oh can’t you see what love has done?
Oh can’t you see what love has done?
What it’s done to me?

Love makes strange enemies
Makes love where love may please
The soul and its striptease
Hate brought to its knees
The sky over our head

We can reach it from our bed
You let me in your heart
And out of my head, head…
Please don’t ever let me out of you

I’ve got no shame, oh no, oh no Oh can’t you see what love has done? Oh can’t you see? Oh can’t you see what love has done? What it’s doing to me?


I know I hurt you and I made you cry
Did everything but murder you and I
But love left a window in the skies
And to love I rhapsodize

To every broken heart
For every heart that cries
Love left a window in the skies
And to love I rhapsodize

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Michael Freakin Phelps


I got to watch some of the Juegos Olympicos en Espanol tonight. Man, I love Michael Phelps. I'm not sure which is more artistic, watching Rafa slide about the clay hitting ridiculous backhands or witnessing Phelps jet through the water in an elastic porpoise manner. Both are so beautiful and amazing to watch. I could watch them for hours. What a beast Phelps is. Do work Baltimore, do work, son! I wish I could have watched that relay race live. That was freakin unbelieveable. Jason Lezak is totally responsible for that one. That was a different type of swimming than I have ever seen. (I wanted to put a picture of Phelps reaction to the U.S. squeaking out the Gold, but it is a touch homoerotic and so I went with a more conservative one.)

The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men...

I'm in Guatemala ahora. God has a sense of humor and my plans here have already changed half a dozen times. I love Guatemala. My spanish is so rough, but I love this country. Tonight Vinicio sat down with me and we worked over a map of the country, planning out possible trips as the conversation evolved into a discussion about Guatemalan history, human rights, war, injustice, sorrow suffering, the church and God's love in all this. Perspective is so cool. There are so many problems in this world, with the church, governments and people. I mean this place is pretty F'd up, but times like today sharing food and fellowship over the dinner table, sprawled out on the floor perusing a map of Guatemala or singing praises to God with the congregation at Nueva Generacion and the guys from Boston send chills down my spine as I think about the beauty of the Kingdom of God. Sometimes it is but a whisper, but the taste of the Kingdom is sweet and sustaining. Flying over Guatemala, I read Henri Nouwen's "On Solitude" and I go back to that book so often. He closes the book in a way that makes me wait expectantly to see how God reveals himself to me in the midst of a hurting world, including me. He is present and working and I want to patiently wait. (Cursing the luggage conveyor belt at Guatemala's airport is not patience, repeating "With patience, you can cook stones" did not work)

"Is God present or is he absent? Maybe we can say now that in the center of our sadness for his absence we can find the first signs of his presence. And that, in the middle of our longings, we discover the footprints of the one who has created them. It is in the faithful waiting for the loved one that we know how much he has filled our lives already. Just as the love of a mother for her son can grow while she is waiting for his return, and just as lovers can rediscover each other during long periods of absence, so also our intimate relationship with God can become deeper and more mature while we wait patiently in expectation for his return."

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Por Los Calles Viejos Del Barrios Mexicanos

I love architecture, I love structure in general. I suppose that's the engineer in me and a childhood built upon Legos, Constructs and Brio trains. I love textures, colors and lines. New cities are giant playgrounds to me. I could just walk around neighborhoods and take pictures for hours. I suppose I do that too. I love taking pictures, but my favorite way to capture beautiful architecture is to run through neighborhoods. Running through Mexico has afforded me the opportunity to experience some beautiful and culturally significant areas as well as traditional and commonplace areas that most would deem unworthy of the limited schedule of a foreigner. I love running because it is a core value to me. I will get up early to run. I will run when I'm tired and feel like taking a nap because it is important to me and because I know that it's not everyday that I can run through a beautiful city. Even when I can't run and have to walk, I love exploring the city.

On Thursday when we visited Andrew's family in La Presa, high in the mountains (on the side of a mountain in realidad) I realized why sandals are for eating Huarache's and not for wearing. We were caught in a downpour and his family was so hesistant to let me leave wearing sandals. Ana took some comfort from the stories I shared about how I would wear sandals in high school in the middle of Winter to board the bus for ski trips in rain/sleet or snow. The rain was pouring and the street from which we had to catch the bus resembled a white water rapids ride at Six Flags. Of course we had to cross the street to catch the bus. My sandals and jeans are still wet and their odor did not improve from this incident. I took pictures which I will post later. Side note: I violated my no umbrella rule twice so far aqui in Mexico.

Mexico City is so huge. 27 Million People. Sit on that number for a minute. I have such little sense of perspective and geography in the whole city. I crave control and understanding. Even in the little tiny blocks where we stay, I want to know everything and I feel confident in small pieces, but the city is comprised of hundreds of areas like this and my task of direction seems beyond reach. I pretty much gave up, which I think is good, especially for a visitor. I can just enjoy where I am without knowing the larger picture. I know this is part of God's purpose for me being here. I focus too easily on things that occupy my entire worldview and I lose sight of the Kingdom of God. I can't grasp God's will without knowing His Kingdom.

The past few days we've been staying in Andrew's summer apartment, which is really just a concrete block with a bathroom on the roof of a real house. You have to climb this rickety spiraling staircase just to get there, of which I am no fan. It's actually somewhat exposed to the elements, which makes for chilly sleeping, but I am not one to complain about living simply or without much semblance of American comfort. I almost prefer this place to the fancy apartment we had been staying in, for the simple reason of the view. Last night I sat out on the roof and eventually stood on the wall and just looked out over the city. I couldn't do anything for several minutes. I was moved to read through Jeremiah and hear of his passion and compassion for the Cities of God. I stood and sang as I prayed and just entered into God's arms. I disappear and am empty that I might know God and His amazing love for me. I still know so little about His vast and perfect love for me.

The city folds up like a taco resolving the temporary obstacles the ridges of the mountains provided. The city surrounds you with even more people than you can imagine could possibly live in such a confined area. The houses go up too, layer stacked upon layer like duplos or toothpick bridges. There is something so humbling and overwhelming to see so many houses stacked upon each other, so many stories so tightly packed together invariably tied together regardless of desire. I'm sure the majority of Mexicanos don't stop too often to consider the existential consequences of living amongst so many, in seeming insignificance in the municipal, much less the cosmic scale. I was fortunate to observe the Big Dipper and a few other constellations through the lights and pollution of the city.

Who am I that God is mindful of me and with all the people, problems and issues, how can I waste so much time fretting over things that I allow to expand and dominate my thought life. Today as I walked out of an amazing church service, I was greeted by another hill side village nestled into a massive green mountain and with the Spanish alabanza musica still in my head, I shook my head in wonder as God continues to open my eyes to His world around me and how much grander and greater it is than that which I can fathom.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Saturday

I grabbed a donut on the way to the Metro this morning. I generally don't partake in donuts, but I suppose Mexican donuts aren't as sweet and fattening as those from the states.

We actually got to sit on the train, which was a welcome change. Mexican trains are insane. You can't get a seat at midnight and the cars are still packed. I was sitting down reading my trendy bilingual youth Bible when two people approached me and asked me "Eres Cristiano?" I started talking to them in my drawn out deliberate Spanish and we had an interesting conversation on the church, missions and ministry, American government and Biblical views on war. People are so patient with me, and I know enough Spanish to have in depth conversations, but at fragmented and inconsistent pace. I tend to think they find this endearing and impressive, but that might just be me.

We went to an art museum, which is actually just someones house. She was really wealthy and best friends with Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera. Rivera is one of my favorite artists and the museum had an eclectic collection of his works from all the stages of his career. I was not real familiar with his early and later works and I spent most of my time in his rooms, although she had an extensive collection of pop art, Kahlo, sculptures and statues, beautiful Jade, Crystal and rubies, Asian art, and much more. (Hundreds of elephants died for this woman to have an elegant house)

I spent a lot of time on a lithograph by Rivera whose translated title was Dreams, Night of the Poor. I pasted the color version, but the black and white lithograph was breathtaking in it's style as well as subject. He conveyed so much pain, hope, sorrow and reality in this work. I don't know what it was exactly, but I had such a hard time removing myself from this piece.

Jim's Mexican family met us at the museum and we headed off to the Market in Xochimilco to grab lunch. I love markets so much. So many colors, smells, sights, people and excitement. We got some barbecoa, carnitas, tortillas and other fixings and headed off to eat lunch. Xochimilco is built on a canal and hundreds of people ride on canoas to enjoy a meal, some marimbas or mariachi music, shop the markets on the islands (or the floating markets in the boats on the canal) or just relax. It was so beautiful and relaxing. The food was amazing tambien and I could have stayed there all day. I read a bit, caught some sun, practiced my spanish and just enjoyed a beautiful town. I thought I had to go to Italy to experience such an extended system of canals. I took lots of pictures, but this cheap Google picture will have to do until I have my camera cable.

We went out for some cheap Mexican beer and amazing tacos to celebrate one of Andrew's friends Birthday. Good times.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Today on the train I read two books. They are very different, one being about families and fly-fishing and the other about praying the Lord's prayer, and yet they share many surprising similarities. I approached my trip to Mexico and soon to Guatemala, with hope and expectancy for God to work in me, reveal something to me or challenge me. I always carry at least two books with me because sometimes I want to read about God and sometimes I need something lighter because I'm fearful of being convicted or challenged by God. I find prayer not to be so convicting because it's a time to empty ourselves of ourselves and seek fullness from God, to bring nothing and seek nothing, but Him. Sometimes I have a hard time praying, I drink too much coffee, I can't sit still for too long, there's too much noise around me, I get bored and my headaches also make it very difficult for me to pray. I mean, I went a seriously long time without consistent prayer and it took a season of pain and a lack of understanding to force me to prayer. I'm ashamed of this, but grateful that God operates and loves His children in such a manner. It reminds me of the Gibran poem On Pain,

"Much of your pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility."

I have been thinking a lot about pain, joy and sorrow lately, particularly as I walk and breathe Mexican history in the streets, ruins, cathedrals and museums of this amazing city. Yesterday, I visited four churches and spent some time in each of them praying. We settled on going to the Cathedral instead. There is so much gold in the church, it's rather overwhelming. I generally don't appreciate ornate churches, but this one really boils my blood. White Europeans came and stole gold from the indigenous folks and then built this fancy temple to God from the abundance of their stolen goods. Something tells me that God does not delight in that. I suppose we continue to do similar things today as the church, in more inconspicuous manners, but I have a hard time understanding why God lets such things happen.

The next place we visit is the Basilica, which is the second most visited Catholic holy site, behind only the Vatican. It's a rather breathtaking place, but again there is pain, idolatry and contradictions. Jesus is almost an afterthought to the Virgin of Guadelupe. From the moment you step off the metro and rise to the streets, the markets are filled mainly with icons of Guadelupe. There is more zeal for her than for any sports team I've ever seen in the States. The markets cover the street and stretch for nearly a quarter mile on the pilgrimage to the Basilica. On the one hand, it's amazing to see so many people buying religious items. There's no way you would ever see anything like this in the U.S. although I've never visited that Holy Land Bible theme park. There are some crosses and Jesus artifacts, my favorite being the pictures of Jesus with a lowrider in the background, but the overwhelming majority are of Guadelope.

My favorite one was at the plaza de tres culturas and the church was really old and fairly simple with plain stained glass windows and some rock construction including a dome made of stone that was so impressive. We sat there for a while and both spent some solid time in prayer. I love churches, but generally ones that aren´t too fancy and this one was really peaceful and inviting to me.

Out of time on the computer...

Thursday, August 7, 2008

I could end each day sitting in a hammock listening to good music, talking to God and reflecting on my day. I woke up early to go for a run. My brother asked me if I noticed the altitude change, and I really didn´t, but now it´s going to be in my head. It was the most beautiful run, I´ve been on in a long time. Running through Coyoacan was so refreshing, full of colors, smells, gardens and inviting parks. I even got to run past Frida´s house and Leon Trotsky tambien. I felt so good and did some exploraring and felt great to start the day. Andrew and I went to the Zocalo first, which is the huge square downtown surrounded by the national palace and the church with the most gold I´ve ever seen. I was so sad because they weren´t letting people into the palacio and I so badly wanted to see Diego Rivera´s murals. He´s one of my top three favorite artists of all time. There is at least a football field´s worth of murals that tell the beautiful and painful story of Mexico´s history.

fighting sleep... will write mas tomorrow. So glad to be here!

things to write about...
Dido white flag on the bus
i was the tallest person on the bus with like 25 people on it
with or without you at the taco place drinking german beer
running across the street with rain up to my ankles in leather sandels in la presa
Basilica and catholic questions
churros after dinner
andy{s family being awesome
how to lose a guy in ten days
walking the food markets and the religious fanatics markets
students massacred
andy almost got me killed by a bus
mariachis on subway
michigan state hat
i love food

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

He me aqui

Landed safely in Mexico. I've spent more time waiting in airports today than I've slept the past two days. Can't wait to catch up. Thad and Vince took me to the airport at 4:30. I know Big's been waiting to get mentioned in my blog for a minute now. West Philly all day, but I'm excited to spend some time in algunos barrios y por la tierra del pueblo. I wandered around the Mexican airport for a few hours with a MacGyvered suitcase setup since my one suitcase is missing a wheel. Got scolded by la policia for sacaring a photograph of a reflection off some important building. Spanish holding up so far, nice lunch. They serve amazing food on Mexicana Airlines.

Andy and I are staying in Coyoacan and it's a pretty sweet area. Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo and Trotsky lived in this borough and you can definitely sense the rebellious, artistic and revolutionary spirit still here. We went to a really stylish restaurant with live music and enjoyed dinner from a molcajete followed by some sweet churros and cafe after dinner.

Sleep is coming soon, so sweet!

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Tupac's Favorite Poet (mine too)

Tupac and Huey from the Boondocks turned me on to Kahlil Gibran. Figure that. Read as much of his stuff as you can get your hands on. These are a few that I've been feeling lately. English wasn't even his first language (Lebonese) ...craziness.

Joy and Sorrow Kahlil Gibran

Then a woman said, 'Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.'
And he answered: Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives? When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. Some of you say, 'Joy is greater than sorrow,' and others say, 'Nay, sorrow is the greater.'

But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy. Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced. When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

On Pain

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

On Work (just a portion of it, maybe my fav)

You have been told also that life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary.
And I say that life is indeed darkness save when there is urge,
And all urge is blind save when there is knowledge,
And all knowledge is vain save when there is work,

And all work is empty save when there is love;
And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God.
And what is it to work with love?

It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.

Great and Unsearchable Things

I love the book of Jeremiah. Been reading through it a lot lately. I was reading through Kahlil Gibran's "The Prophet" which is like my favorite book on poetry and his connection between joy and sorrow reminds me a lot of Jeremiah. I like this passage in Jer. 33.

"This is what the LORD says, he who made the earth, the LORD who formed it and established it—the LORD is his name: 3 'Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.'
4 For this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says about the houses in this city and the royal palaces of Judah that have been torn down to be used against the siege ramps and the sword 5 in the fight with the Babylonians: 'I will hide my face from this city because of all its wickedness.


6 " 'Nevertheless, I will bring health and healing to it; I will heal my people and will let them enjoy abundant peace and security.

7 I will bring Judah and Israel back from captivity and will rebuild them as they were before. 8 I will cleanse them from all the sin they have committed against me and will forgive all their sins of rebellion against me. 9 Then this city will bring me renown, joy, praise and honor before all nations on earth that hear of all the good things I do for it; and they will be in awe and will tremble at the abundant prosperity and peace I provide for it.'


Monday, August 4, 2008

Green Lining

I remember from the DC Urban Project, we used to talk about green lining. It meant that we approach things with a cultural posture of learning, we reserve judgment, observe, and give people the benefit of the doubt. There's a whole fun little drawing to accompany the idea. I haven't thought about that particular terminology in a long time, but it just came to me as I'm sitting in the Green Line Coffee Shop. I came here to work on mind-numbing paper work for my job. I'm going to be here for quite a while and just needed to get out of my office. I have had waaaaaaaay too much coffee today, and I've only eaten bananas so far. I'm going to run back to my office, grab a quick run and then hit up the coffee shop again. Just needed to take a break from the monotony.

I was trying to come up with a catchy blog title and it came and hit me... real deep, I know. It actually is because its very appropriate for me, in my neighborhood, my job and my personal life. It's about extending grace, removing your ego, hoping and giving people a possibility to grow into. I need to green line.

It's ironic because just today I borrowed Rachel's book called the Art of Possibility by Rosamund and Benjamin Zander. You can actually read it on Google Books How freakin cool is Google. I have read portions and have been wanting to read the whole thing for some time now. Really, the only part of the book I'm familiar with is the portion that describes the practice of giving an A. It's pretty much the same concept as greenlining, but drawn out into an entire philosophy on life. I need to read this because it's the obverse side of trusting in God and not fretting. It's not to say that people are basically good, but that there is a masterpiece inside each of us and we need to look for that and not compete with one another or judge. Anyhow, the authors write that,

"Michelangelo is often quoted as having said that inside every block of stone or marble dwells a beautiful statue; one need only remove the excess material to reveal the work of art within. If we were to apply this visionary concept to education, it would be pointless to compare one child to another. Instead, all the energy would be focused on chipping away at the stone, getting rid of whatever is in the way of each child's developing skills, mastery and self-expression.

It is an enlivening way of approaching people that promises to ransform you as well as them. It is a shift in attitude that makes it possible for you to speak freely about your own thoughts and feelings while, at the same time, you support others to be all they dream of being. The practice of giving an A transports your relationships from the world of measurement into the universe of possibility."

That's where I stand right now. I need to transport my relationships. It's so much easier to just judge, hold grudges and be angry at people who disappoint or hurt you. I'm sick of that, it wears on you way too much. I'm letting go, I'm greenlining and you're all getting A's suckers, cuz I'm a big old sucker myself. Listening to U2 and Bono cryin out in Yahweh and a lot of that song talks about giving people A's, especially recognizing that we all deserve big fat F's, but that it is through God's love that we are capable of shining. I love that man. Oh, and give me an A even though I'm writing this at work, no worries, I'll be working all evening! Peace

Yahweh

Take these shoes
Click clacking down some dead end street
Take these shoes and make them fit, take this shirt

Polyester white trash made in nowhere
Take this shirt, and make it clean, clean
Take this soul stranded in some skin and bones
Take this soul, and make it sing

Take these hands, teach them what to carry
Take these hands, don't make a fist
Take this mouth, so quick to criticise
Take this mouth, give it a kiss

Yahweh, Yahweh
Always pain before a child is born
Yahweh, Yahweh

Still I'm waiting for the dawn, still waiting for the dawn, the sun is coming up
The sun is coming up on the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean
This love is like a drop in the ocean

Tell me now why the dark before the dawn?
Take this city, a city should be shining on a hill
Take this city, if it be your will
What no man can own, no man can take
Take this heart, take this heart, take this heart
And make it break

New York State of Mind

"It became very clear to me sitting out there today, that every decision I've ever made, in my entire life, has been wrong. My life is the opposite of everything I want it to be. Every instinct I have, in every aspect of life, be it something to wear, something to eat ... It's all been wrong..." ~George Costanza

I always laugh hysterically when I see that episode and watch as he begins to act conversely to his instincts only to discover things begin working out magnificently after this adjustment. It ties together wonderfully in a half hour episode. Unfortunately, it doesn't quite pan out in the real world. Although, to take this anecdote to what I assume is an unintended spiritual level, it somewhat represents dying to our flesh nature. We are called to reject our earthly impulses and live counter to our comfort in opposition to fear and doubt. I've found that to be a hard place to walk in, despite repeated efforts and focus.

This weekend I considered George's dilemma on several occasions as I thought through a multitude of decisions, small and large. Ironically, I suppose the first decision was whether or not to go up to Seinfeld's backyard and visit the Big Apple. I was hoping to take Tyriq and Thaddeus with me, but they both backed out and when I finally rolled out of bed on Saturday morning, I was grumpy not only from sleep deprivation, but from the sounds of rain that carried all the way to my bed. After much deliberation, internet and fatherly research, I made the decision to go for it. Three hours later, after a brief rain storm pincered me in Central Park, the weather cleared up for good and left me a perfect weekend to enjoy New York.

Old friends and new ones are beautiful things. I had such a great time exploring the city. I was never too terribly fond of NYC before, but I guess it's finally growing on me. For me being such an urbanite, this was the first time I ever hailed a cab before. True story. I'd never been to Harlem before, that was cool, very different than Philly. Saw a beautiful night storm come across the Hudson as the sun was setting. Walked along the river by Chinatown as a front was coming in. I love the time right before a storm, it's so peaceful and yet terrifying. Walked a ton. I visited St. Patrick's Cathedral and I love churches and beautiful architecture and I'm very fascinated by Catholicism and learning about the early church and saints. There was a wedding going on and it was in Spanish and the groom's name was Pedro.

I enjoyed an arepa from a street fair that was muy sabroso. I read Dyson's new book on Dr. King's death at a quaint coffee shop during the rain and also on the bus. He explores Dr. King's philosophy about his own death, violence and the weight of knowing he would die and how it's affected America 40 years later, incredible book. Hadn't been on a Chinatown bus for a minute and had some amazing white peaches and cherries from a fruit market. Spent a lot of time at Columbus Square and had an awesome view from the top of a building right next to the square. I certainly couldn't buy a house there and I'd be broke if I lived there, but it's definitely unlike any other city in the U.S.

Went to church this morning (not at St. Patrick's) and the message was about fasting, which was pretty cool because I had a conversation about fasting over breakfast this morning. I suppose whenever someone speaks on fasting, I hope for them to speak about Isaiah 58 and the true fasting that God calls us to in seeking justice and breaking chains of inequities and that God doesn't care much for false piety that is hollow and void of justice done in love. Anyhow, that withstanding, something that I really took away is us longing in our fasting, for things to be as they were intended by God. It's a recognition that things aren't right and a hope for the kingdom to attain this. In that way, it connects us to Christ's ministry and to each other. I often approach fasting as me desiring God to fix things in MY life, somewhat implicitly in ways that I desire, and it's really just about ME. I think that maybe fasting is about God and others. It's about His will, period. Not necessarily His will for Pete Gackenbach, but His will, period.

When we fast, it becomes clear that it's not about us, it's about God and His kingdom. We get to be a part of it, but we're not starring in it, anymore than anyone else. I was a bit bummed because they served communion at the earlier service and I haven't partaken in communion in a while. Communion Sunday is a solid three hours at Greater St. Matthew's, which is brutal, but I love the actual communion portion of those days. I never really thought about it before, but fasting is much like communion. Yes, it's an introspective time, but it calls us to look to Jesus and look to others. We disappear in the sacraments and we disappear when we let go of our earthly reliance.

God's working on me. My heart and my butt have been kicked a bit lately, but I always go back to Psalms and remind myself that my heart and flesh may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. I can't wait to see what's in store, I know I sure would have written the story differently, but there must be a reason I'm living in a basement and He's sitting on the throne of the universe ;c)

At church, we met someone from Germany who has been traveling throughout the east coast before heading back to college. He even hiked for three weeks on the Appalachian Trail by himself, haha and I was proud of running a quarter mile at night in West Philly through a paved path in the woods. I actually handed him my drivers license and asked him how to pronounce my last name. I was somewhat hoping for a deep revelation, but I think he basically said it the same way I've been told all along. He hung out with us for most of the day and we had some neat conversation sitting in Central Park. We also introduced him to Chipotle and he was awestruck. Anyhow...

More to come on the NYC adventures tomorrow. I've got to get to bed. Only two days of work this week, but I have much to get done!

Friday, August 1, 2008

Patience Can Cook a Stone

God's really trying to teach me patience these days. I must be really resistant or something. My parents came to check out houses with me. I started to put a bid in on the one that I really like and Sister Anne Marie called and let me know that I won't be able to get the one that I wanted. Back to the drawing board...

It was pretty cool that my parents came and were so excited. I still might buy one of the houses. I suppose I need to wait and make sure that it's really what God wants for me. I'm so confused by where God's leading me, but man I'm trying to be patient and faithful. I kinda felt like the monk who was chased by tigers and jumped off a cliff and grabbed a branch only to face tigers at the bottom of the pit as well. Suddenly, he saw a strawberry growing from the branch, and ate it and it was the most delicious strawberry ever. I suppose my strawberry was the pizza and beer that I shared with my parents at Dock Street this afternoon. My mom had beer for the first time in her life. I'm so proud. It's important to be able to appreciate small things and big picture things in the midst of trials. I'm getting there.

So I'm waiting. It's cool, I know some friends who are waiting on things too. Situations that seem overwhelming, but God says to stand firm and to wait. My cell phone wallpaper is a picture of a sign in a display case of an abandoned building up the block from my office. Someone randomly writes Bible verses on pieces of paper and changes them once a week or so. Two weeks ago, they put up a verse from Isaiah that has been my meditation day and night, I open my phone and think of the verse so often, "Do not anxiously look about you for I am your God, I will strengthen you." (Isaiah 41:10) I am so hesitant to put all my trust, I mean all my trust in God, I will slowly put a little bit more and a little bit more, but I hold some back.

I was thinking about patience a lot tonight. I'm not even patient with myself. I get so down on myself when I swear, when I get bitter, fearful, or doubt God. I'm so quick to dismiss the voice that says, "Let it go Son, let it go." That's what I'm trying to learn right now, to let things go. I guess I'm slowly getting there. I like discipline. It's one of the things I enjoy about running. Pain can be so beautiful. I had a doctor's appointment today and they ran a bunch more tests on me. For some reason the needle in my arm hurt worse than normal, but it didn't bother me. I am hopeful because I want to feel better and the pain is a necessary step to diagnosing the cause of my problems. I'm so tired of my health that I want to go through as many tests as possible because my hope and desire to feel better dominates whatever is required to get there. I was excited that my doctor referred me to three other doctors. I suppose that I need to feel the same way about my life in general. I've had some pretty painful tests, but I want to get where I'm supposed to be going.

Suffering apart from Christ is wasteful pain though. In our suffering, we are about to connect to Christ. He chose to suffer voluntarily and suffered innocently. He defeated sin and death, the ultimate suffering upon the cross and thereby defeated suffering period. Death lost its sting and the grave had no victory. Paul said, I am crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ now lives in me. Pope John Paul II gave a speech that I really like regarding this verse, he says,

"Faith enables the author of these words to know that love which led Christ to the cross. And if He loved us in this way, suffering and dying, then with this suffering and death, He lives in the one whom He loved in this way; He lives in the man: in Paul. And living in him to the degree that Paul, conscious of this through faith, responds to His love with love--Christ also becomes in a particular way united to the man, to Paul, through the cross. This union caused Paul to write, in the same letter to the Galatians, other words as well, no less strong: "But far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world." [Salvifici Doloris, Pope John Paul II]

Now that's deep. I had a nice run and thought about suffering. It was interesting, I was running in the dark, and it almost seemed like hills weren't as bad and I could run harder than when I run during the daylight. I'm not sure if there's any truth to that. I felt completely comfortable and at ease. I don't really understand where I'm going with my life, but I know that God's doing something and I have absolutely no fear at all for my safety in my neighborhood. I'm not sure if that's faith or foolishness. I suppose it may be some combination of the two. I was running at night, which I love to do.

I got to Baltimore Avenue and the trail goes into the woods at that point and I debated continuing, and I went for it. There was a bit of light on the path and as I was coming to the bridge, the train passed and lit up the woods. A strange thing happened too. Last week they painted over the graffiti with paint and a vehicle ran through it, and I happened to run through it too. Well, the paint seemed to be almost fluorescent and created a small meandering path that guided the way. It was pretty sweet, especially considering my footprints guided me along the way. I stepped in that paint thinking nothing of it and it turned out to guide me later on.

I ran hard tonight. I was feeling empowered and adventurous and got back to Baltimore Avenue after my jaunt through the dark path and was contemplating running through the woods on the stone path in the pitch black dark. I got to the gate ready to press on, and then I was like, um that's nuts and stupid, stay on the concrete path and learn your limits! I'm sure my mom is glad to know that I'm not completely crazy and foolish in my adventures. While I might have a dulled sense of fear and eagerly approach adventure and uncertainty, I'm still looking for my way in the dark. It's sure comforting to know that to God, my darkness is as bright as the light. I'm pressing on towards the goals, both seen and unseen.