living is simple.

You Lost Me.

2012-01-18T17:52:00.001-05:00

Recently, I picked up a book "You Lost Me. Why Young Christians Are Leaving Church... And Rethinking Faith".

I'll tell you why I picked it up.

Living as a young adult innately requires self-examination. We are constantly shedding our beliefs/values/patterns of living and integrating new as we transition from childhood to adulthood. To top it all off, we live in a culture of dramatic and rapid change - technology, science, economics, and immediate access to information. Navigation is not simple; it can be downright confusing.

Though I cannot begin to adequately explain the book in a concise manner, here's the gist. The Barna Group is a research group based in California that examines the "intersections between faith and culture." Their lastest book, written by David Kinnaman, examines the disconnect of young adults and the church at present. He names us "Mosiacs" - those born between the years 1884-2002.

They group young adults with Christian backgrounds into three categories: Nomads, Prodigals, and Exiles. (However, they also emphasize that every person's story is different and unique. These are simply broad categories formed from examining common themes and trends.)

"Nomads are described as persons who "wander or drift away from active involvement with a church or faith community." Defining themes:

They still describe themselves as Christian and believe personal involvement in a Christian community is optional.
The importance of faith has faded.
Most are not angry or hostile toward Christianity.
Many are spiritual experimentalists.

Prodigals are those who "give up on the faith of their childhood." It doesn't suggest they'll return to faith, just that they don't consider themselves "Christian" anymore. Defining themes:

They feel varying levels of resentment towards Christians and Christianity.
They have disavowed returning to church.
They have moved on from Christianity.
Their regrets, if any, usually center on their parents.
They feel as if they have broken out of constraints. They experience leaving at freedom.

Exiles are those who "feel stuck between the comfortable, predicable world of church and the 'real world' they feel called to influence." The author compares exiles to Daniel - those attempting to be faithful to their faith heritage while trying to live in "Babylon" (new culture). Defining themes:

Not inclined to be separate from "the world." They long for spirital loves to be connected, to be whole, and to make sense.
They are skeptical of institutions but are not wholly disengaged from them.
Young exiles sense God moving outside the walls of the church.
They are not disallusioned with tradition; they are frustrated with slick or shallow expressions of faith.
They have not found faith to be instructive to their calling or gifts.
They struggle when other Christians question their motives.

So where do you classify yourself?

I would probably call myself an exile. Throughout college and after, I have struggled to navigate connection with a faith community in a meaningful way. As a kid and teen, I was fully engaged in the Philly suburb independent church my Dad pastored for ten years. I had a head full of hope and was bred for leadership, ministry, and community. It still runs through my veins, but today's image of my faith different, more fragmented than 6 years ago when I graduated high school. I went to a pretty liberal Mennonite University, traveled to the Middle East for several months, learned to walk with my brother when he came out, started seriously dating a dashingly handsome and charming Mennonite, and I became a nurse (... going to church on a consistent basis? ha!).

I am wary of the church in many ways. These days, I ask more questions than I give answers. The world we live and work in looks so different from the church at times that it's hard to reconcile the two. So when I read a few pages from this book, I was pulled in because it's hard research of exactly what my generation is feeling and thinking and doing about church today.

I'm curious to hear about other people's thoughts on this book, so if you need something interesting to read and talk about, do it! I'm all ears.

Casa.

2011-10-18T18:39:00.001-04:00

Shall we take a peek at the things at my place this week?

First, craft time! I made some scrabble coasters, and I think they turned out pretty snazzy!

Flowers from Ben + Kate's wedding:

Hydrangeas outside my casa door.

More goodies from Kate's wedding. It's officially fall.

More home projects.

I found the two frames at Mercy House Thrift shop and gave them a face lift.

Frame the ones you love?

The wall hanging on the left is a Ten Thousand Villages find - Indonesia!

A home for each piece of jewelry...

and where I lay my little head to rest after my 12 hour shifts.

PhotoWork station!

Wedding gift from Kate Bergey :)

Lavender, of course.

Nurse.

2011-10-14T11:08:00.001-04:00

Kate + Buds at Bluestone Vineyard

2011-09-27T18:06:00.003-04:00

A few weeks ago we celebrated Kate's Bachelorette Weekend all over the Shenandoah - partying in Harrisonburg, wine tasting in Bridgewater, and dining in Stanton. Here are a few snippets from Bluestone Vineyard.

Kate and Hanna: a dynamic duo. These two have so much sisterly love for each other, and there is so much to admire about their relationship. If this picture doesn't demonstrate their special sister friendship, I don't know what does.

And... Hanna is beautiful, clearly.

If you've got the curls, rock 'em.

I am so happy for Kate, the friend who speaks my heart language and has literally lived with me through the ups and downs of 5 years. Ben, you're one lucky dude!

Time for a Change.

2011-09-27T14:01:00.002-04:00

The page needed a face lift. I think this is much much better.

Crayon Art

2011-09-14T13:22:00.000-04:00

Miss Hanna Nussbaum brought this fun little project to us this weekend. Try it! You'll like it! :)

Sweet Cheeks

2011-09-11T23:44:00.002-04:00

That's right. Ooh la la. This weekend we celebrated Kate's last days as single lady. Come October 8th, she'll be marrying her best friend and love, Ben. Congrats, Kate - we love you so!

Grandma Lee's Rings

2011-08-08T12:02:00.000-04:00

My great-grandma Lee's wedding rings:

Hatcher Lee Drummeller to Glen Grove Vought, Senior

April 3, 1928

Jon & Jenny

2011-02-11T14:54:00.000-05:00

Pratiksha & Phil

2011-02-11T14:47:00.001-05:00

I Spy...

2010-11-03T23:17:00.001-04:00

One of the many things you can find in the City of Harrisonburg!

A New Beginning Starts NOW.

2010-11-01T14:42:00.001-04:00

Small panicky moments flit across my brain as I unpack my things in the basement of the place I'm living for the next month or two. Questions flash like stars of dizzy vision.

Am I really doing this? Will this make or break? How soon can I afford another cat to snuggle with? Where should I make my home church? Will I be a good oncology nurse... a really good nurse? What will the next week, month, and year bring? How do I even buy a car? Where do I invest myself in my spare time?

Time to grow up, Kelly, and be an adult.

Dad and I enjoy some pumpkin Kline's ice cream as he leaves me with my Great-Grandpa's 1990 Buick Century - a borrowed, classy ride until I purchase my own car. He takes my hand before leaving and prays with me. For the ability to stop and be present. For wisdom and discernment in all relationships and choices. For the ability to determine what is good and what is best. It is a prayer of a daughter and her father to our Abba - the hearts of child and parent to the heart of God. How beautiful and wonderful. I am so thankful and grateful for the love of my earthly father and my Heavenly Father.

Here goes everything.

Hey, when are you gonna stand
Stop looking over your shoulder
See, there's a sun in the sky
And a moon that will take us 'til morning
When are you gonna stand
Stop and begin this moment
Hey, Let go
Let go

Begin
Nicky Mehta of The Wailin' Jennys

Amy & Giles Engagement

2010-10-17T13:11:00.000-04:00

I had a lot of fun shooting Amy & Giles' engagement photos. They're a good-lookin' duo, no?

Lady

2010-10-15T10:43:00.002-04:00

critterbug.

simple solutions.

2010-07-24T19:07:00.001-04:00

Her band-aids have fallen off again.

And the world is not okay.

She's desperate for anything to cover her wounds.

Her feet are covered in dirt. I take some soapy gauze to the caked on layers of the day. One half of the foot is miraculously clean, and the other half quite dirty and smelly. She knows they are awfully dirty - "dirtier than boy's feet!" But all she cares about are the blisters.

I clean, apply ointment, and place bigger and better band-aids (I hope) on her aching ten-year-old feet.

Fixed right up,
she walks out,
still wearing the shoes that have rubbed her dirty little feet raw.

clean hands & pure hearts

2010-06-27T18:44:00.011-04:00

Who may ascend the hill of the Lord?

Who may stand in his holy place?

He who has clean hands and a pure heart,

who does not lift up his soul to an idol

or swear by what is false.

Psalm 24:3-4

K.Brewer

This week's goal:

clean hands

& a pure heart

Already, this week looks like a doozy. 2x the campers means 2x the injuries and needs. But it also means 2x the opportunity to serve and offer what I have to give.

Allergy shots. Broken families. Boo-boos. Caring. Building patience. Extending grace. Being an example.

In Step

2010-06-16T18:23:00.013-04:00

The charcoal outlines of limbs, branches, and tree trunks are glittering with the activity of glowing bugs. Serene - and yet still chaotic.

This evening, we eat with hands tied to each other. We find each other blind-folded and take trust walks. In all this, I realize, though seemingly obvious, that I am here to serve others this summer. In this community, I am called to sacrifice things I wouldn't normally otherwise give up: Freedom of independent living, sleep, dignity, and the list goes on.

Lord, I DO want to be in your community this summer. I want to love uninhibited, give with vigor, and learn with curiousity and heart.

If you have any encouragement form being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in Spirit and purpose. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of other.

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus.

Phillipians 2:1-5

something beautiful.

2010-06-08T13:24:00.016-04:00

In your ocean, I'm ankle deep

I feel the waves crashin' on my feet

It's like I know where I need to be

But I can't figure out, yeah I can't figure out

Just how much air I will need to breathe

When your tide rushes over me

There's only one way to figure out

Will ya let me drown, will ya let me drown

Hey now, this is my desire

Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful

To touch me, I know that I'm in reach

'Cause I am down on my knees, I'm waiting for something beautiful

Oh, something beautiful

something beautiful by needtobreathe

2010-05-21T18:30:00.000-04:00

a burst of birthday joy.
[happy 22nd, kate!]

so are you to me.

2010-05-08T18:42:00.038-04:00

Your love is extravagant

Your friendship, it is intimate

I feel i'm moving to the rhythm of Your grace

Your fragrance is intoxicating in the secret place

Cause Your love is extravagant

Spread wide in the arms of Christ

There's a love that covers sin

No greater love have I ever known;

You considered me a friend

Capture my heart again

Casting Crowns - Your Love is Extravagent

congratulations, rae & greg

5.8.10.

Over the Bay

2010-05-07T18:32:00.000-04:00

friends at dusk :: a wonderful thing.

2010

2010-04-30T19:27:00.005-04:00

Gather up your things.
Run with arms open, eyes shut.
Aim to
Dream
Until forever.
Adopt all words which mean "to live."
Tuck all hopes
Into your pocket;
Oh, lets hope the currency will make
New and countless change.

The love thing.

2010-04-18T18:47:00.002-04:00

1 Corinthians 13 speaks about love, and for some reason, I feel it fits my experience this week's clinical experience in the hospital well...

Love is patient.

Love is patient with clients who demand three biscuits for breakfast against medical advice.

Love is kind .

Love is kind to patients in physical and spiritual distress.

It does not envy; it does not boast.

Love does not boast about superior situation, status, or health.

It is not proud.

Love leans in to wipe up bottoms and messes.

It is not rude.

It is not rude when others are rude to you.

It is not self-seeking.

Love recognizes that no task and no one is “below” you.

It is not easily angered.

Love is not easily angered by the demands or statements of coworkers or families.

It keeps no records of wrongs.

Love does not keep a record of how many years a patient has smoked or drank to the detriment of health.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

Love rejoices when patients are presented with the truth, with answers, and with value.

It always protects.

Love always protects the patient with little mobility and a habit of crawling out of bed.

It always trusts.

Love trusts that at the end of the day, you have done your best.

It always hopes,

even when others have no hope.

It always perseveres,

even without all the answers.

Love never fails…

Sunshine brings.

2010-03-08T17:27:00.000-05:00

Sunshine dances through our apartment, and I decide to go outside to dance with it this afternoon. I walk across the neighborhood, up the hills, and down again. In a short walk, the neighbors are out, and the encounters are simple, but so sweet.

...

She rides, slowly, slowly towards me on her bicycle. I am used to bikers whizzing past me, but she is going as slow as a bike can go, right down the middle of the street. She is probably in her 60s, and she is dressed in warm clothes and flashy sunglasses. On each handlebar balances a bag of groceries from the grocery store down the way. She smiles at me, and I smile back.

"A beautiful day outside, isn't it?" I ask politely.

"Simply wonderful!" she responds with gusto.

When I wanted to go slowly up big hills, my dad used to tell me to use "granny gear" on my bike - the lowest gear. This older lady on the bike gives a whole new meaning to the phrase.

As I walk on, I think of this quote:

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined. - Henry David Thoreau

...

He stares at me as a draw closer. A minute ago, he was driving a yellow dump truck, about a third of his size, up and down the driveway. Suddenly, the locomotion is halted with the show of a stranger.

"Hello," I say. I smile at him.

"Hello," he replies simply.

I continue past him, hearing him cough as I walk away.

"I have a cold."

Suddenly, I am no longer a stranger. He has announced his ailment to me. He coughs several more times, no doubtedly a cough produced from the warming temperatures.

I reply to his statement, "Oh, I'm sorry! I hope you feel better!"

He nods his little head, still grabbing hold of the yellow dump truck. I walk on and smile as he resumes his dump truck adventures, uninhibited by his cough and cold.

Ah, the dedication.

19 years and going strong.

2010-02-16T22:09:00.011-05:00

february 16, 1991

january 2010

Happy Anniversary, Mom & Dad. :)

As the music at the banquet

As the wine before the meal

As the firelight in the night

So are you to me

As the ruby in the setting

As the fruit upon the tree

As the wind blows over the plains

So are you to me

As the wind blows over the plains

So are you to me

::eastmountainsouth:: so are you to me

When snowflakes (and college students) accumulate...

2010-02-07T21:47:00.006-05:00

This is what happens when college students play in snow:

This is what college students find amusing in snow:

To Be Held

2009-12-13T18:10:00.005-05:00

The tiny four-year-old with messy blond hair accidentally knocks down Chloe's tower. She looks at me with tears in her eyes and says, "I want Daddy."

Today is my day to help with Sunday school, and I am on the floor building towers with four and five-year-olds. Rough job, for sure. And now she is crying.

I pull her in and hold her. Patting her back and trying to comfort her, I attempt to assure her she is okay. As soon as I hold her and give her a big hug, she calms. She snuggles into my shoulder.

This little girl is overflowing my love tank!

Kids have simple emotions, simple joy, simple gratitude, and simple love. They are so simply precious.

With this girl on my lap, in my arms, I am comforted, too. It is simple and beautiful - to be held.

No One is Good, Not Even One.

2009-10-24T15:25:00.008-04:00

In my Senior Sem class at EMU, we have been reading Henri Nouwen's "Turn My Mouring Into Dancing". Nouwen, in the book, says,

"Many things we think we do for others are in fact the expressions of our drive to discover our identity in the praise of others."

We were asked to respond, then, to this question:

How has this been true or untrue in your life? How does Christian culture and drive to service affect this?

I will freely admit that I often thread the praise or lack thereof into the tapestry of my identity. Who does not enjoy a word that builds confidence in what the body or mind can accomplish? Who does not fall into doubt when praise is few and far between? We crave affirmation in what we can do.

In the Christian culture, I think there is a definite personal and corporate struggle of where to derive our value. Value can be accumulated by what we put our hands to – acts done by our own strength. Growing up in this Christian culture of expected service, I often did very “good” things for people through various church activities. In fact, I think this ingrained idea of “self-sacrifice” and service contributed a lot to the decision I made to pursue nursing. This decision in and of itself is not bad. But the motivations behind my actions in the nursing field (or just in general) can often be quite self-righteous and self-serving. I won’t lie; it feels quite good to be affirmed by patients or nursing staff or peers. But in the end, my own abilities to “help” will always fall short. I cannot bank my identity in others’ approval.

The second alternative for value has nothing to do with our physical capabilities. Instead, our value is discovered through the recognition of the “Potter’s” hands by which we were uniquely formed. In this frame of understanding, we are used instead of being in control - the vessels instead of the Potters. As Nouwen frames it, you are “free from the need to prove yourself and you can be more open to the power that will work through you without your knowing it (p.73).”

Once, my Dad framed this idea in a way that was really helpful for me. I paraphrase his words:

God is sensitive to our hearts and our needs. The daily practice of being in His presence and working through my heart’s intentions and condition helps me to, in turn, be sensitive to His heart. (Equally present to God as He is to us). I also understand that God is sensitive not only to my needs, but also to those around me. So, by being sensitive to God, who is in touch with all people’s needs, I can be a vessel to meet those needs. And it’s not by my own ability then, that people’s needs are met… it’s by God’s working through me.

So, in conclusion, I am humbled to know that I’m not really all that altruistic most days. But it means I can recognize it and depend on God’s grace to shape my ever-self-focused tendencies. PTL.

Bitter Pills

2009-10-06T18:30:00.004-04:00

As I pass her room, her head is down on the table. I ask her if she is feeling alright. She shrugs her shoulders and says, "I just feel down."

This lady has been admitted for fractures after taking a tumble in her yard. Last evening, she apparently experienced a great deal of pain - "enough where I could just scream." She feels powerless and frustrated at her abrupt loss of mobility and independence.

"I suppose I just need to swallow my pride, like they told me," she says, still shaking her head in disbelief. It is a bitter pill to swallow, harder than any of the real pills I have given her to swallow.

There is no quick fix for pride. Nothing will magically catapult us over hard work, over the realities of shortcomings. There is no pill that magically restructures our motivations, thoughts, routines, and relationships.

I kneel to her level and encourage her as best as I know how, knowing all along that I could just as easily be taking my own advice.

Give yourself grace. Yes, it is difficult to acknowledge your weakness, brokenness, and inability to care for yourself. But, accepting help does not rob you of freedom or value. Take it slow; give yourself time. You are healing. Give yourself grace.

---

"When you hold lightly these dreams and fears, you can be open to recieve every day as a new fay and to live your life as a unique expression of God's love for humankind." -Henri Nouwen

2009-10-02T16:58:00.001-04:00

Walking out my front door this morning, I am greeted by this incredible display of God's creativity, masterfulness, and sheer beauty...

I love living in the Shenandoah Valley!

Hall in WC

2009-09-30T21:57:00.004-04:00

Photo from shoot with Uncle Hall

Memories: Sacred.

2009-09-24T23:17:00.003-04:00

"Maybe the most sacred function of memory is just that:
to render the distinction between past, present, and future ultimately meaningless;
to enable us at some level of our being to inhabit that same eternity which it is said that God himself inhabits."

Fred Buechner

Being Human.

2008-05-29T01:03:00.000-04:00

Take joy in the un-rushed living.
In the unfolding.
It takes time to...

- - -

Words from about a year ago.

How much life takes you and spins you around into places, relationships, and events you never could have imagined. I wish I could peg the best of those moments. Because it always escapes you; the good moments escape you because you can't always see them when they're happening. Was today, this day, a good moment? Was this a memorable day? Not particularly, I think.

But maybe, just a few weeks down the road, I'll remember today for some reason and smile. The clear, breezy night splattered with beautiful stars? The hailstorm that sent the dog cowering under feet? Or maybe the quiet morning of sun and reading the Word as windchimes echoed beneath the holy words and stories.

Take joy in living unrushed and fully.

Wilderness

2008-03-25T23:08:00.001-04:00

letting go

I'll spill out the words to bring my freedom:
You don't need me,
and I don't need you.

You are the confusion I leave in Cairo.
You are the sand wiped from my eyes in the desert.
You are the stone I throw in the Kineret.
You are the paper in the Kotel that is given to God.

I am leaving you
in the ways I only know how -
I am learning to be free
in a place that isn't home.
With great pain comes great choice:
to hold on...
or to let go.

Yes,
I am releasing.
And I am reaching for the wilderness -
for the places that leave me with nothing and everything.
Parched and tire,
I find a spring for my soul.
Oh Lord, Elo'im
my heart you have redeemed.

flowers for nagwa.

2008-02-16T20:27:00.000-05:00

On a walk through town, I wave to many people. Later, I see some boys on Brent and Matt’s street. They ask my name, and one of them proceeds to do cartwheels all over the street, singing, “Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!” in between each turn. It was quite the circus.

I give him a high five, which he gleefully responds to. Then I make my way to the flower shop to pick up a bouquet for my host mom. The florist talks with me for a little while, and she throws together a beautiful bouquet for Nagwa. I walk back, carrying bright red and yellow flowers amid a faded, gray street.

Bonita.

2008-02-16T18:24:00.001-05:00

(Beit Sahour, West Bank)

Sometimes, things are not what they claim to be.

kitty quake.

2008-02-15T20:27:00.000-05:00

Around 12:30 today, there was an earthquake, apparently. I felt shaking because I was sitting in my bed. Didn’t think about it until the second time when it lasted about thirty seconds and some cats screeched below the house. I don’t know why, but I seriously just thought there was an animal under my bed.

“Jenny, my bed is moving! I think there’s a cat under my bed…”

The thought made absolutely no logical sense. But I’ve never felt an earthquake before. She said she felt it, too. Later we found out, yes, it was an earthquake. My first earthquake…. and I thought it was a cat under my bed. Good grief.

Love Day

2008-02-14T18:55:00.003-05:00

The final week of living in Beit Sahour/Bethlehem is here, but the excitement certainly has not fizzled out. Today, as you know, is Valentine's Day. (And I wish a very happy one to allll of you!)

On any other Valentine's Day of the past, the thoughts I have had would seem quite trivial in comparison to today's experience in 2008. Other Valentine Days were spent thinking about baking cookies, giving cards, and the "horrors" of being single on such an occasion. This Valentine's Day, I have examined the heartcries of the people all around me - Palestinian, Israeli, American, and even Native American. (a group of 5 Native Americans who have joined us the last few days. They have built relationships and found many similarities between the Palestinians and what has transpired on US Reservations. They are here in Palestine for about a month)

Funny how all should accumulate on this day meant to celebrate the love for one another in a place thick with both great love and great hatred. Love, at its roots, is loyal to the point of destruction, yet on the other hand, can redeem and restore and build. In a location where nothing is simply explained, love is not exempt. This is Valentines Day in Palestine for me.

Beit Sahour has been the grounds for such examination of the world, people, and myself. In the past three weeks, I have visited Palestinian cities Hebron, Ramallah, Nablus, Bethlehem, Jericho, the Jewish settlement Ephrat, a refugee camp, and more. I have been disappointed by human ability to inflict pain of every dimension upon another human being. I am frustrated by things that both US and Israeli and Palestinian governments do on behalf of self interest... representing a whole people though actions that do not communicate its constituents true heart. But I've been pulled in by the resilience and hope, too, especially the hope of Christ. He is definitely the firm foundation for this time of personal worldview shaking and changing.

A Valentine's Party is on schedule for tonight, so I should leave. I hope that this wasnt too depressing... but I pray that all of you are doing well and constantly living each day to its full :)

Happy Valentines Day, I love you all.

Hubez.

2008-02-13T18:38:00.003-05:00

We visit Beit Aribiya, the home and peace center of a family whose home was demolished four times, rebuilt five times. Because of the trauma, his wife no longer speaks. His child temporarily lost sight. Their spirit was struck again and again. His resistance is strong, but it is heartbreaking and traumatizing for him and his family. Demolishing. Traumatizing. Robbing. Damaging mind, body, and spirit. This is not the way a human being should treat another human being.

Later in the evening, as I walk home, I pass the house where I rescued the crying little girl a week ago. The grandmother and mother are there cooking hubez (bread) on the outdoor woodfire oven. I say hello, and they beckon to me and answer, “Hubbez! Tfaddal.” Bread! Please.” They offer me some of the hubez. I accept it, shake hands, and try to make conversation in the best Arabic I can muster. I say my name and “beit” (home). I meet a little boy and shake his hand. The family was so warm! I thank them and say, “cheroffna” (my pleasure), and head back, eating the best bread I have ever tasted.

I hold the generosity of this rejected family in my hands, and I could almost cry. Their smiles are maybe what make this bread so good. It was by far the best and warmest welcome I have received yet. I do not know if they can afford what they gave to me. It stirs up my heart. I will never forget their smiles, the broken attempt at communication, and the warm bread in my mouth as I savor their generosity and welcome.

out of power.

2008-02-12T20:22:00.001-05:00

Tonight, the power is out for about a half hour. The whole hill lost power, which is sort of neat to see. The stars are even clearer. Nagwa dances around the house, swinging her hips and singing in Arabic. Raneen is annoyed at her, as any fourteen-year-old would be. It makes me smile from the inside out.

Throwing Rocks.

2008-02-09T20:21:00.001-05:00

We throw rocks today! Linford asks the owner of “Field of Nations” Daud (David) what makes him so hopeful and firm in his vision.

“Faith,” he answers.

He is a light for Christ in these circumstances. Everything he says is encouraging. It is so different from many others we encounter. He strongly believes Palestinians and Israelis should be pro-active, not re-active. His focus is not “Look what they have done to me!” but rather “You have done wrong, but I will stand with my hands open for a just and peaceful ends.” I was so impressed with him, so aware of God’s presence and peace in this man. It was so refreshing.

The soil we worked in today was mostly rock piles. I thought about the parables of Jesus in Matthew 13, and now I understand “rocky soil.” I can see that it takes great effort to make things grow here. But just as we threw those rocks off the land, surely the effort to do the same for belligerence in the heart is of great benefit. Surely there are rocks in my life that can be hurled off the soil so growth can occur! I pray that this trip would continually help me to throw off some rocks.

Nablus:daytime

2008-02-07T19:44:00.001-05:00

Nablus wakes this morning with new excitement, I feel. Tony Blair, the ex-prime minister, is visiting, so the city is alive and filled with policemen. When we entered Nablus yesterday at dusk, I was under the impression that little eisted here – that I would walk among downcast prisoners and closed shops. But I am pleasantly surprised today by the smiles, open shops, and constant bustle. These people are not defeated.

I cannot even fathom the reality of this city. Bullet holes litter walls, even the walls of the hotel we are staying in. Israeli soldiers guard the entrances at night. Guns are held to held, and bodies are used as shields. Families live in fear at night. I live so comfortably… so safe. Observing these people and hearing their stories breaks me because they are so incredibly resilient and determined. I am unsure I would prove to be courageous or hopeful in such circumstances.

As we walk through the city, I hear a sweet song erupt from the walls of one shop. It is a small, yellow bird singing in its cage. I am reminded of the poem “I know why the caged bird sings” by Maya Angelou. Alicia Keyes answers, “…only joy comes from song.” In Nablus, the cage is occupation. But, the cage does not rob the beauty of the bird’s color or its sweet song. If it did not sing, this bird, I would never have known it was there, sitting in the cage in a tiny space in a wall.

We leave Nablus through the checkpoint. After standing a while, we are ushered through ahead of the rest of the crowd of men, women, and children. I feel awful, squeezing past the people who had been waiting. I cannot look them in the eyes. It does not take them too much longer than us to get through, but it does not change the fact that we went through differently. I feel ashamed. I feel foreign emotions I cannot even explain.

Nablus: nighttime.

2008-02-06T18:41:00.003-05:00

I feel numb as I step into this place. Before Linford even says anything, I feel and know this place harbors pain and despair. Nablus is a city of limited movement in and out. Israeli control has severed the vessel for lifeblood in Nablus. I hit a place of despair, feeling hopeless and frustrated. But tonight, some of us pray and sing for about an hour. It lifts much of the burden, and I am reminded that God is sovereign, even in the hurt. He is sovereign in good and bad.

the contagion.

2008-02-05T19:53:00.002-05:00

Kevin pointed out that today was a 10.5 hour day with ATG. It was such a draining day. I think the reality of life in Beit Sahour is beginning to sink in and stick. I feel as if there must come a tipping point for all the history, stories, emotions, and everything we’ve encountered up to this point. There have been points in the day when my heart has briefly sunk, my eyes feel tears, but my self wills this emotion away – not now, in the middle of a lecture. Emotion must be released, I realize, but it is difficult to be so vulnerable in a new environment with new people.

There is real pain here – so much more than I have ever experienced, I’m sure. We watched a documentary tonight called “Arna’s Children.” It reveals the pain, anger, and hatred of extremists. The refugee came Janin was a hotbed of retaliation four years ago. Amidst it, a camp was started, to provide a creative outlet for the children through song and acting. Hatred is seeded in their hearts so young. And why wouldn’t it be? Their homes are destroyed, friends are murdered, and little girls die in your arms. Hatred grows in these circumstances like invincible weeds. There is no remedy – the trauma and reality these kids face will not change unless the environment changes. Unless the cycle of hatred and violence changes.

Halfway through the film, I feel sick. I do not want to watch any more. The kids, the men – they all speak about death. They prepare for killing, protecting, and the loss of sensitivity. I feel numb at the thought that this is so present all around. I am numb thinking that violence is and excuse for some, and an answer for many. Why?

Tears come as I watch the end of the film. Children gather and sing a retaliation song: “Another martyr will be replaced by another.” I feel I have no right to cry. These are not my relatives or friends. I am not Palestinian. But I am broken by my disappointment with humanity, with the world. My frustration is in the broken spirit. Love, hope, grace, and forgiveness provide such freedom. Why do people reject it so violently? Hatred tears away the soul of a person and a community. It is contagious and relentless.

For the first time, I feel physically vulnerable and fearful. The last place I should fear is sitting in a cushy chair at ATG. I should feel fear when a settler is following behind us with a big gun in Hebron. But not here… not in this safe space. The uncertainty and unpredictability of violence is what shakes me. Anything can occur. And here I sit, in the West Bank. My naivety is great, but I am not ignorant of the unrest that lies everywhere. Even so, I am strongly convinced that the Lord is sovereign, even in the crazy, confusing world.

Stuck.

2008-02-03T18:33:00.001-05:00

On the way home from church, we pass a house with three children playing. An old woman sits nearby. I say, “Marhaba” and keep on. But I see one little girl crying; she seems stuck between two metal bars. It appears she has been playing and hanging on the bars, only to find herself stuck in the narrow space between. She is holding herself up between the bars - arms trembling - and crying. I ask Raneen if she is okay. She shrugs and keeps walking, so I turn around and jump down to lift the crying girl, not more than 3 years old, out of her predicament. At first, her arms hold firm, but then I lift her up and out of the trap. I rub her back and immediately she stops crying and waddles down the slope. Her little naked butt peeks out between her shirt and oversized pants.

Raneen tells me two women live in this house . They are thought to be crazy because there is no father. “See!“ Raneen exclaims, “the woman does not even care about the child because she is crazy. Nobody talks to them.”

It breaks my heart a little. We live just around the corner from this family. And how would that little girl have gotten down? Fallen? Got further stuck and injured? I’m not even sure how to process this – choosing to ignore the “crazies.” Would anyone from the neighborhood stop to help? Raneen didn’t even seem phased.

men of snow.

2008-01-31T19:59:00.005-05:00

It snowed in Beit Sahour today.

Apparently, Raneen had never seen snow fall in Beit Sahour before. She could not wait to drag us outside to make a snowman and have a snowball fight. So, we bundled up and attempted to make a snowman with an inch or two of snow. We used a tree to support the body. The scant amount of snow meant our “snow”man was half dirt. But Raneen wanted him to be white. We tried our best in the muddy olive grove.

We used olive tree branches for the mouth and hair. Upon their placement, Raneen exclaims, “He says, ‘Peace for Palestine! Freedom for Palestine; go away, Israel.’ Why does Palestine not have freedom? All other countries do – Israel, Egypt, Jordan...”

I never suspected making a snowman would become so political.

Palestine.

2008-01-28T20:08:00.003-05:00

(View from our window at morning, Beit Sahour)

Just when I’m beginning to think that the days cannot possibly get any more packed, the next day comes. Not just comes, though; it marches in and tramples the following day.

We wake up this morning and raise the shades to a beautiful grove of olives, oranges, lemons, and tangerine trees. Incredible - this house, this family. Nagwa serves us tea with mint, eggs, pita, and the most delicious fig and apricot jam you’ll ever taste.

Our day begins with storytelling at ATG. Kelly Smucker was locked in a bathroom while her mother sang, “The Wheels on the Bus” to comfort her as they knocked down the door. It’s amazing to hear the stories already pouring out of the families. Incredible hardships. My own host family has deep pain. Nagwa and her husband were married in ’68. She and her husband left Kuwait in ’67 so that he could manage his women’s clothing factory. He left due to the Gulf War. They had 3 girls, and Awad was about 5 years old. So they re-entered Palestine. They lost everything in Kuwait, Awad says.

Sagee is Awad’s close friend from childhood. He has a great fervor for life, talking, and singing along with Lebanese pop singer Elissa. He was born in Syria, and he now lives in Palestine illegally. His papers/visa expired, and he has no ID. So basically, he is quarantined in Bethlehem. He wants out so much. I can’t even fathom living in a restricted area. I am privileged to move about nearly everywhere – the States, South America, EMU, and oh, yes, the Middle East. How is it that I have all the freedom in the world and do not use it or even ask for it… and a young Palestinian yearns and longs for it, asks for it, but cannot even touch it for himself?

Seeing that massive wall – 5 people high – humbles me. I want to injure the wall in some way to make it crumble. We were not meant to live behind fences or walls, of that I am sure. Even as a child, I could not understand my neighbors with fences. Fences meant less room for us to play. It made the neighbors seem haughty, snobby, and unfriendly - like they wanted us to go away. All fences seemed good for was to keep a dog in or to use the fencepost as our soccer goal.

(the wall, Israeli side, Bethlehem)

Preparing...

2008-01-07T22:45:00.000-05:00

Our first day of Orientation was TODAY! All of us were kinda jumping around; we're only slightly excited. :)

Lindford opened up by reading "Oh, the Places You Will Go" and playing a beautiful song, although I don't remember all the lyrics or the name of the guy who wrote it.

Linford talked about making "home" wherever you are in the moment. In all honesty, he noted, you cannot fully live and grasp every opportunity with vigor in one place if your mind is somewhere else. Being in school has already warmed me up to the elusive "home". When I am in Harrisonburg, I long to be "home" in West Chester with my family. But when I'm in West Chester, another part longs to be "home" at EMU. But if all attachment is found apart from current experience, it cripples ability to embrace with both arms the excitement, challenge, and growth right in front of me.

I'm exhausted, excited, intrigued, giddy, and anxious all at once. This trip will be incredible, and I'm excited to share what I can along the journey. :)