Children's Literature

"Here is James Henry Trotter when he was about four years old."

We began reading James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl yesterday at the park with the kids from the shelter I am working at. I had prepared well for our readings from this book. I prepared songs to accompany the story's exciting moments and to engage the children in the character development. I circled difficult words that I could emphasize to facilitate vocabulary enrichment. I even wrote in the margins a series of penetrating questions that would help the children relate to Jame's experience. But as I read to these kids, I saw the limit to my endeavors in preparation, and I witnessed a child engage with the story in a deeper way than I expected - to a level that maybe I wasn't prepared to go.

It should be clear that this story is brutal. In the first page the cute 4-year-old's parents are eaten by a rhinoceros. So James is entrusted to the care of two wicked Aunts who beat him frequently, give him little to eat, and say things to him like, "you miserable creature" and "get out of my sight, you disgusting little worm." Obviously underlying this plot is the heaviness of abandonment, loneliness, and fear, which Roald Dahl vividly describes. While I may incorporate this book into the curriculum of one of my future classrooms..say third grade, I don't think I'll read the first two chapters again to a group that includes three- and four-year-olds.

But as we concluded our reading, the question of a nine-year-old girl, one of our kids, gave me pause. She asked, "Is this a true story?" Quickly, I muttered that it was fiction but that James experience was sadly true for many children. She nodded in truthful agreement. And then we quickly transitioned to a rousing game of "red light/green light."

I've been thinking a lot this girl's sensitivity, her quickness to note the reality of James' situation. What prepared her to empathize so keenly with children who face what James is going through at the beginning of the book? This is what troubles me. Has this girl experienced anything similar to James' childhood? I know that she and her brother just got reunited with their parents two weeks ago. We were there the day of their joyful reunion. It pains me to consider the possibility that she has suffered separation from parents, maybe even like James, prior to this summer. It concerns me that what I ignorantly thought to be a silly, imaginative book could have serious, real connections to the lives of the kids.

Yet somehow, I am scared to ask her about it. I want to maintain professional distance. I don't want to delve into her potentially broken childhood history. I don't want to get too close...too attached. I just want to play with the kids, and design literacy experiences, give them love, even share the gospel with them. But I recognize that I can't do any of these things if I am unwilling to truly love the kids: to listen to them, to hear them, to know them, to learn from them, to appreciate them for who they are.

I prayed a lot about this last night and today God gave me the courage to ask some deeper questions while we were all walking to the pool. She openly told me about she and her brother's history of foster care - what each of the three homes were like and how good it was to be back with her mom and dad.

There's always more to ask and more to learn (I'm especially sensing the need to talk with the little brother), but I hope this will be the start of more open, trusting, and healing conversations, for me and for the kids.

I think we'll have to keep reading the book too.

A quote from Robert Lupton: "I know I must continue touching and being touched...somewhere concealed in these painful interactions are the keys to my own freedom."

Miracles are happening...

On Thursday evening, when we gathered to set our budget for the week, we heard that one of the personal cars being used for our program was towed. We were all aware of our tight budget so realizing that the costs for this situation could be up to $250, we very quickly prayed that God would intercede and provide for the needs of our community this week. Well, early the next morning, the student who owned the car and I went to reclaim the car from the impound only to realize the total cost was $400 ($325 for the tow and $75 for the parking ticket). To put that in perspective, we only had $420 budgeted this week for food, laundry, giving, and personal money. What were we going to cut? How are we going to eat!?!

Through literal miracles, over the course of the following few days, God provided us with the funds to well exceed our needs for the week ($40 from strangers on the street, the parking ticket being rescinded, $75 off the towing cost). It brings tears to my eyes to think about how good our God is, about how he cares for our needs, yet how quick we are to plan and strategize the ways that WE are going to survive. God has us in His hands and for that we give Him praise!

Jesus Reality

Peer pressure has led me to write this blog. I'm about to give the world a snippet tidbit flashglance at what's been rolling along in my curly-haired brain these last few days.

God has me here in Lancaster City for a reason. To learn, to grow, to be humbled, transformed and renewed. And what I'm learning is that this is real.

Well, duh Kira. You're not in that imaginary city next to Lancaster that goes by the same name. You're not in dreamland. You have been here for 3 and a half weeks now. What are you getting at?

Following God is no small thing. The Bible? C'mon people, this is real. There's people living it out everyday. In a way, life seems more pure in the city. What you see is what it is. Whether it's the neighborhood I work in that has trash all over its streets and car seats on front porches, or the grandfather adorned with children that I pass everyday on my walk home, or a man walking by our porch one evening who after a mere greeting was sharing his life with us, showing us a picture of his beloved daughter and explaining how she was murdered Nov. 27th 2001.

And then he thanked us for being young people with vision and he prayed for us!

A young man at the teen center I work at lives with his sister. His parents are not around. He's a phenomenal artist and dreams of going to college for art.

I've met four pastors since I've been here who are former drug addicts.

I led a Bible study for the first time last week on one of my favorite passages, Mark 9:14-29. In it, I emphasized the plea of the desperate father of an evil spirit-stricken boy, crying, "I believe! Help me overcome my unbelief!" After asking questions aimed at getting the teens to imagine the circumstances of the passage and to relate to the father's plea, the director of the program, Pastor Wayne, took it a step further. He made it really real for those teens by likening the boy in the passage possessed by an evil spirit to the modern-day crackhead. He went on to say that we were made in God's image and we're all loved by God, but we're all susceptible to spirits overtaking us. So, we must take care to avoid the realm of evil spirits- of drugs, alcohol, pre-marital sex, and other fleshly desires that tempt their young souls.

The circumstances that these teens live in is opening my eyes and stirring my heart. God has placed me here to wake me up from my lala dreamland of suburban comfort and God-loves-me-everything's-great  ideology. He's confronting me with real brokenness and with the disturbing truth that he calls me to do something about it. Jesus wants me to sever myself from this world and take up my identity fully in him. I feel excited, frightened, and even mournful of what worldly comforts I will lose in my pursuit of Jesus.

So God, I pray that you will meet me in my fear and that you will help me overcome my unbelief. I'm learning what it really means to follow you, and Lord God, please give me the strength to accept it. For, I know that your plans to prosper me and not to harm me.

Shmackin' and choppin'

Tonight Wes, David, and I had a pretty cool walk around some of the neighborhoods of Lancaster city. Wes asked us if we wanted to take a walk because he had a lot on his mind and he wanted to think and pray. I asked if we wanted to walk downtown and Wes said he didn't really want to talk to people too much, so we just started walking along with no real destination in mind, saying hello or "how you doing" to people sitting on their porches as we passed by.

We said hello to a couple of guys sitting on their porch, both white, one older and one younger, and they said something we couldn't hear. So I hung back to hear what they said.
"How you doing?"
"We need more whites around here," says the older man.
"We'll protect you," the younger man encouraged us.
"OK."
They were far away and it was tough to hear so we all smiled at them and walked away, not immediately realizing what they had actually said. It was shocking to hear such blatant prejudiced comments from a couple of strangers. But God had more to teach us on that walk. Race was definitely a theme.

We walked by a group of 5 or 6 young black boys, about 12 years old, fixing a bike. We said hi to them, which is what we do to just about everyone we see in the city and they said hi back.
"Are y'all church people?"
"What was that?"
"Are you church people? Are you with a church?"
"Well, we do go to church."
"Oh, OK. 'Cause a lot of church people come around here and ask us to come to their churches."
"Oh. Well, we're not doing that. Do you go to church?"
"Yeah, I go to the one over here."
"What are the church people like? Are they nice about it or mean?"
"Well, it's kinda annoying. I mean I can't go to all their churches. One time a black lady come over and asked us to go church, and she came early in the morning. Why would one black person come over to another black person early in the morning?"
"Well, why is that different from a white person?"
"Well, she woke me up. You just don't do that to another black person."
"Man you're not makin sense." said one of his friends.
"All right." said Wally (pronounced Wal-LEE), the oldest kid, who was fixing the bike.
We talked to them for about 20 minutes, talking about girls, bikes, drugs, and college.

After we left Wally's porch, we walked past a school I recognized. We had walked that way before on our way to the house of a Bhutanese refugee to teach English (my day job is teaching English to refugees). So we decided to stop by the Dig-It Project to visit Saheeb, a 65-year old black man we who runs a garden where he employs teenagers and provides food for the elderly.

He invited us in right away when he saw us and gave us some fresh cantaloupe. There were about 5 or 6 young black boys there, aging from about 10-13. Saheeb seemed to be teaching them. He was telling them stories about black history, giving them advice about the dangers of "choppin," ('choppin' basically means putting your friends down), and teaching them manners and responsibility. After we had been there for about 10 minutes, we saw a few more kids walking up. It was none other than Wally and his friends. Then Saheeb gave us some cake, which was "shmackin'!" according to one of the kids there, named Deonis. Finally, Saheeb got out a few drums and he and 2 or 3 other boys played a drum circle as Saheeb directed them. I was amazed by the way he was able to connect to the kids and teach them good values.

We had gone for a walk and had planned to just walk around and not talk to anyone, but God had a different agenda.

Sidewalks Art Show! Check it out!

First off, before Sidewalks everyone made a piece of art to describe their family, ethnic background, and faith journey!  This is our collage of collages!  My personal favorite is Nick's pizza box on the right!

We are all amazed by the artwork of Kira Fry!  She painted this on the wall of the basement!  God is growing something new as he flips life upside down here in Lancaster City!

Here are a couple of sweet collages from Caroline Tolli!!

Basement wall painting by Caroline Tolli

 

God is stirring in David Gorman

More awesomeness from David Gorman

David Gorman

This is as artsy as I get... I made this display to inform parents about our kids camp this week! (Stay tuned to future blogs about our worksites!)

  

Jamie Keister

More from Jamie Keister!  This one is based on the essay 'We See from Where We Stand' that our group read.  Click here to read it yourself, it is awesome!

More art to come!  Stay tuned!!

broken sidewalks

Some are concrete, some are brick.

Some are smooth, some are bumped up.

Some are adorned with benches to sit on, some are adorned with broken glass to avoid.

Some are only a little bit messed up. Some are really broken.

The city is taking notice of the dangers of neglected Sidewalks.

The paper today says that a "new look is coming to area around Central Market".

"Broken benches and loose paving stones will be replaced." Woohoo! Good news! A beautified city!

But for who?

That's not in our section of town.

Unfortunately, they aren't noticing the Sidewalks where we live. As we pay attention to the needs of our neighbors, our hearts are broken. Many in power not only don't notice the pavement at our feet here. The city's decision to spend $2.5 million on the brick sidewalks around Central Market may be a strategic business investment, but who will invest in the communities and families in the Southeast section of Lancaster?

During worship last night, (led by talented Danny, groovin Michael and smooth John) we prayed for "your kingdom come, your will be done, in our lives, and in this world" as we then interceded for the city and people of Lancaster. My heart is heavy with the needs I see here - children with absent parents, mothers who struggle to receive their children as blessings, and people who have nothing of their own left - no one who can or will welcome them into their home, no home, no food, no clothes.

Lord, may your kingdom come on all of the sidewalks of Lancaster!  Please bring life into the midst of the brokenness that I see here! Amen.

Funtivaties Galore

Games, games, more games, and storytime.

When we are not playing with the children of the neighborhood or diving deep into scripture you could probably find us playing some type of game. There are many funtivities! Let me tell you a few:

1. Bananagrams- if you haven't played it get on it because it is beyond awesome. Also if you are a Scrabble lover this is for you. Many of us have stayed up late just to get in one last game, and it is always worth it in my opinion.
2. Dutch Blitz- fast hands and a sharp mind will allow you to go far. A super fun card game that I am slowing getting better at. The louder you get the more fun it becomes! Check out this pic of John Thiel dominating at Dutch Blitz!
3. Pictionary/sentence game- Ha, I don't know if it has a definite name. But it is so incredibly fun and you don't have to be a good drawer at all. Actually its most enjoyable when some people aren't talented in the drawing area. Much laughter will result.
4. Story time with David (pictured with me while cooking mac & cheese) - Beware... these Goosebumps stories will result with chills up and down your spine. David narrates the tales of Goosebumps as we all gather around, but don't worry they are actually hilarious especially because its David who is our storyteller. He gives an interesting twist with his narrating talents.
5. Bop-it- The commands of Bop-it fill our living room, which is accompanied by frustration usually. I might have received the high score so far, but someone will probably break it soon...maybe.


Playing these games has definitely brought our community closer together. As the laughter echos in our house, I can see God smiling down on us. Laughing is a beautiful thing, and God is so good for giving us this gift. Me and my fellow sidewalkians can't get enough funtivities. This is my temporary family for the next month-ish, and I love them all. Such a blessing =)

Buying for 16 is no easy thing

It's the end of the week, and we are down to the bottom of the last jug of milk and box of cereal.  Today, a new cooking team of 4 is beginning their adventure of buying, cooking, and serving meals for 16 people for a whole week!  It's quite an operation, and it is a significant part of our community living experience.  This week our team chose to budget $350 towards food (we are living on $30/week for gas, laundry, food, etc).  Next week, we are going to see how we do with budgeting $250!!!  I am a little nervous about the nutritional value that comes along with spending less, but I know God will show up in some great ways as we choose to live simply and give our money away in other places in the city.

I thought you might enjoy a few highlights from this week's cooking team purchases

• 190 slices of bread, 40 hamburger buns, & 5 dozen bagels - lots of enriched carbs flowing in our lives
• 3 large qts of LOCAL Strawberries!  Yup, it's the best time of the year for going to the Lancaster Farmers Market!  Thank you Bisquik for making a delish shortcake compliment.

• 22 lbs of knock off brand laundry detergent... (We'll see how our clothes turn out this week! yikes... there has got to be some reason why tide costs like 8 times more!)

I am nervous about this detergent!

• 1000 sheets of toilet paper.... for this week!  I always feel slightly embarrassed with this filling up half a shopping cart with this ginormous bag.  Maybe other people think that I never leave the bathroom (thanks Jim Gaffigan for helping me ID this thought)

Nick likes toilet paper

• 20 free paper bags!  A special shout-out to Giant grocery store for donating some paper bags for a little costume fun with kids we are working with in Lancaster. Check out some pics!

All in all it was a great week being on the cooking team, but I am glad to pass the torch!

Happy Flip Flop Day!

To be honest, it's a little bittersweet writing this post. I usually spend Flip Flop Day with my family back in Erie and celebrating it here in Lancaster today just makes me miss home.

(This is where you ask what Flip Flop Day is)

What's Flip Flop Day, you ask? Let me explain.

Today I woke up expecting an average morning, eating my usual bagel with peanut butter and side of cereal. But Michael (my housemate slash person that Wes sometimes confuses me with) had something else in store. After getting to Bret and Betsy's house and eating some cereal, I heard about something magical happening today for a limited time only. Tropical Smoothie Cafe was giving away FREE SMOOTHIES to anyone wearing flip flops! Wow. What a fabulous idea. Michael had heard about this irresistible offer a few days prior.

After figuring out some logistical details (not everyone had flip flops so we had swap around), a handful of us walked downtown, following the rainbow that ended at Tropical Smoothie Cafe where a fruity pot of gold awaited. We arrived and got our free smoothie, surprised at its large size (strawberry banana if you were wondering). Then Danny and Caroline met up with us, just finishing their 7-mile run (one of the pair was significantly more drenched than the other -- no names will be mentioned. Let's just say their name starts with "D" and ends in "anny").

What a beautiful adventure to start the day. Props to Michael for the hot tip.

Listen, be patient, and love

It was a beautiful scene returning home to East End Avenue after a full day of making house calls to refugees brand new to Lancaster and the U.S. Some neighbors were relaxing on porches and others were walking along the sidewalk enjoying the summer sun. Nick and I were returning with a bag of towels for the refugees we will be teaching ESL to in Harrisburg tomorrow. Two little girls approached us, asking if we needed help. Nick gladly accepted (we are both learning that receiving help and hospitality is a wonderful gift) and walked along with the girls.

Meanwhile, there was an elderly man strolling slowly along near the house. "How are you all enjoying the neighborhood so far?" he asked smiling. I told him it has been great getting to know the stories of the people in the city, and soon he was telling me his. Wesley, age 68, was diagnosed with bladder cancer two years ago. After a recent surgery, he now walks down East End Avenue everyday for physical therapy, training his body back up because he knows he can. His story was beautiful, and I wanted him to keep talking, but all he wanted to do was hear my story and talk to me about my future. We talked news, health, medicine, nutrition, history, racism, creativity, and future generations. He even told me he wants me to invest in youth and write a childrens' book with vegetables! Everything he said was thoughtful, and I received much encouragement from him.

Time flew by as we conversed, and I realized the sun was falling lower in the sky. When I looked up, I saw that Nick was playing foursquare with the two girls, Doralis and Patricia, and others were joining in. The evening in front of the house became full of foursquare, collages, Fathers' Day cards being made on the porch, and new dance moves being learned from six-year-old Amanda. It's nearly 11:00 pm now, school is officially out for the summer, and the sounds of laughter, harmonicas, bouncing foursquare balls, and kids' voices are still filling the sidewalk.

After a restless night thinking and praying about big issues of Jesus' mission and mine, God gave me so much joy and peace today. Living in this city is richly rewarding and God is revealing himself in the most unexpected of ways, through 6-year-olds and 68-year-olds. "Listen, be patient, and love," He quietly whispers.

Receiving or taking???

I like security, and I like things that make me feel secure. I like seat belts, daytime, my dad, predictability, and internal calm. I've always tended to shy away from that which is difficult and unsettling. And oh boy--I have felt unsettled about a lot of things the past few days. But by the grace of God, I want to take a bolder approach this time. I want to dive into these unsettling things headfirst, because I think God is going to meet me there. He already has.

I felt particularly conflicted walking home from my first day of work at Water Street Mission this afternoon. Just as my program leaders had predicted earlier in the week, the workers at the Mission stated that I should be prepared to receive a lot from the people of the city. Sounds amazing, right? It is. But the prospect of receiving from the people I want to serve caused a deep unsettling in my mind and heart.

How can I receive from those I am trying to serve? Isn't loving across social boundaries a one-way street? If I receive and learn from those I interact with, am I not stealing away some of their life? If I put myself in a spiritual position to receive from these people, don't I miss the opportunity to give away spiritually? How do these people ever experience the love of Christ--how can I give that--if I am receiving from them?

As He often does, God spoke awesome truth to me as soon as I got these charged questions out on the table. I think the prospect of receiving unsettles me because I believe that there is only a certain quantity of life in any given relationship. This life is transferable, but its size remains constant. "Giving," to me, has always meant transferring some of the life I have to another individual. When I serve, I sacrifice some of the life in me by sharing it with another. From this perspective, if I allow the tables to be turned and I receive from those I meet in this city, I will soak up what life they have. That certainly doesn't sound like serving to me.

However, I see there is something seriously wrong with this view. God is not in the business of limiting life. He is the Creator. He creates life. He multiplies it. He expands it. So giving and receiving in relationships is exactly that--giving and receiving. It is not giving and taking. In sharing my life and receiving life from the people I meet, God causes life to grow in both of us. Wow--that's cool!

Creator God, help me to freely give and freely receive Your life as I meet and interact with the people of this city. Amen.

God's work, not mine

They say living in close community like this in the city brings the best and the worst out of people. I'll attest to that. We've only been here half a week, and no lie that it's been a tough couple o' days for me. I've been realizing just how unready I am for this program. I've been realizing just how much work God has to do in me. I've been realizing how all the selfishness and pride and arrogance and self-image that I thought I had under control still master me when I least expect it.

Understand that I came into this program figuring I'd be a pro here; I've done missions all my life, I've lived in the city before, I've been hearing about the issues that are present here. But all the things I believed I was good at, things as simple as just listening to a person's story, have wound up being things I'm failing at and need to learn from others about. Realizing how needy I still am is a frustrating experience.

Thanks be to God that our salvation and sanctification don't rest on our efforts, but His. We were blessed tonight by being able to attend a local inner-city church service. And that's exactly where God intended to break through to me. I wanna give my all to God and Lancaster city, but the truth is He is the One giving to us. All we can give Him pales in comparison to what He's already given us and still will. I need to learn to accept His grace and correction with humility, realizing that I don't have it all together, which only highlights His goodness and love for those who really need it. People like me.

Thanks God, for showing me that I still got growing to do, and would You continue to water a seed that's been planted.

Do I belong here?

This quotation, from an article about cross-cultural ministry, stuck with many of us today: "If you have come to help me," said anonymous Australian aborigine woman, "you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together." Other writers and ministers I respect have voiced similar convictions, that true freedom is derived in the reciprocal serving of people from different cultures, who receive from each other and work together to find healing. But I confessed to the group that from my perspective, these words seemed like merely a big mysticism. Was there power to this quote that was based in concrete experience. Would I come to find this liberation in Lancaster? Is this an experience God is leading me in this summer?


Today has been a strenuous day. Getting lost in the neighborhood on a run - almost. Orientation with the Transitional Living Center I'll be working at. More learning about ministry and race. Finishing the day with a viewing and discussion of the movie Gran Torino. During a break, one of our team asked me a simple question: "How are you?" and I responded by telling some about the questions I've been asking these first three days of our program:"Do I belong here?," I've been asking. "This isn't my city. This isn't my neighborhood. Will I accomplish anything of value? Is it selfish to ask these questions?"

As I reflected in this moment, I began to see that these questions and concerns are not dissimilar from those that I ask myself often. It seems that wherever I am - home, Bucknell, abroad, I am always worrying over the dreaded question, "Do I belong?" Am I alone? Can I trust others to accept me?

I suspect that this is an area in which Jesus wants to work on my heart this summer. Maybe this is the liberation that I hope to experience. Maybe this is the freedom I hope to find serving and receiving at the Transitional Living Center. But do I trust this neighborhood, this city of Lancaster to accept me? Do I trust that Christ has me here for a reason, and that I do not need to be inhibited by my old fear of not belonging?

Father God, I trust my life to you this summer, as I continue to learn from you and all your people. Amen.

Throw a little color on it

Earlier, in the heat of the day, some us were practicing what is becoming more normal - sitting on the front porch. It is in this ever-forming routine that we sit and wait until the two kids next door come by, curious to know what we're doing. Over the previous days, we would need to be quick in forming fun games and conversations with the kids but today, we got a break - sidewalk chalk.

On the one piece of land connecting the properties together on the block, the sidewalk is quickly becoming the place to gather, not just when we're overflowing from the porch, but it is also where many neighbors are seen smoking a cigarette, talking with friends and family, and running around playing games. So with the popular and colorful chalk today, some nostalgic games were formed - hopscotch, tic-tac-toe, and sidewalk art.

It was amazing in the few hours we spent this afternoon. What was once the place where people walked and gathered, now transformed into a place where laughter and creativity was developed. What was once a drab, yellow piece of concrete became a colorful piece of community. Praise God that a little creativity and small piece of chalk can bring such big smiles to the children of the street.

Check out this video of Nick doing hopscotch for the first time!!

A Firefighter's Miracle

  Okay, so it is day numero dos of Sidewalks. So far so great, because these people I will be living with for these next weeks are fantastic. God has blessed me yet again with amazing people in my life. I guess I shouldn't be surprised because having awesome people in my life seems to be a theme.

Rather than run through the whole day I will share a tad about the sweaty hellos we did today, while exploring the city. Well, I was with David today walking through the Sahara of Lancaster. By the first 30 seconds, we had some sweat beads dripping off our noses, ha. We walked to a park to eat our bagged lunches, which I was so entirely ecstatic about because PB&J is one of the best sandwiches ever.

The 'Sahara' sidewalks of Lancaster

After David and I enjoyed our park brown bag lunches, we came across a man cleaning the exterior of his car. We were sort of nervous to approach him and start up conversation because that sort of thing can be uncomfortable, but God gave us a push to do so. This man was friendly right away and wasn't shy about sharing his story with us. He had been a firefighter in New York for 27 years, and has lived in Lancaster for 6 years. Anyways, God was so apparent in his life because when his son was 5 years old, he was diagnosed with spiral meningitis and it didn't seem that his son was getting any better. The man was sleeping at his son's bedside in the hospital as he had done for 3 days straight. On the 3rd night, the man couldn't sleep because he was so upset and stressed about his son's condition, and the man came across an elderly custodian while walking the halls of the hospital. The custodian told him not to worry and to just have faith.

The next morning his son was running around and playing in the hospital hallway. The doctors could not come up with an explanation to this miracle, but it was obviously a God thing. The man asked the doctors about the elderly custodian, but the oldest person on the custodial staff was 50, but the custodian the man had seen the night before was definitely at least 80 years old. This man was convinced God had heard his prayers and had given him a miracle by healing his son.

David and I were astounded by the beauty of this man's story. Because this man was so open and willing to share, David and I were encouraged to keep on greeting other people along our hot and sweaty walk.

I could go on and on about my day, but this is a blog, so not the best idea. All in all I am doing wonderfully, and I thank you all for your prayers =)

Fans Are Beautiful Things

So I'm sitting at the dinner table with this beautiful invention in front of me: a fan. Since stepping out of my car into Lancaster city, I've been sweaty. Not like the a-little-dark-spot-under-the-armpits-sweaty that makes you consciously remember to not lift your hands up or do the wave in the near future. But more like constantly being in a state of stuffy, hot sweat. Kinda gross, right? Definitely not the ideal scenario to meet people for the first time or to make first impressions. And with people I will be spending six weeks with -- living and breathing and interacting together.

The real sweaty David that probably (alright, definitely) smells is a persona that I'm not crazy about. The persona I want to project is the clean-cut, not sweaty, not smelly, good-looking guy with an easy smile who doesn't wipe his brow every five minutes. But right now, that's not me. That is not the real, true me. I can't avoid my sweat, my grime, my uncleanly state.

This six weeks I'm going to learn a lot. I'm anticipating learning a lot about myself and being confronted with my faults and weaknesses and the dirty, smelly areas of myself. And that sounds nice and good and admirable conceptually. I'm sure when it happens it will be scary and confusing and not particularly fun. But it's true and I'll grow.

Jesus, help me be brave enough to engage myself these six weeks.

P.S. Mom and Dad -- I totally forgot to text you that I arrived safely in Lancaster. So I'm here!

A Surprise on the Sidewalk

It’s the first day of Sidewalks for staff, and I’m feeling good. Today I was walking down the street, and I saw an elderly man with tan skin walking very slowly. He was weighed down on his right side by what looked like

a very heavy bag. I assumed that along with the the physical load that he was hauling, he was probably carrying many emotional burdens. As Danny, Andrew and I promptly passed him on his left before a large tree in the sidewalk, I made sure that I acknowledged him. Even as we swiftly brushed by him, I made sure to look him in his eyes, even just for a brief second, because I wanted him to know that I believed he had dignity. I wanted him to know that even though he didn't really look “important”, I believed that he had value. So I said “hello”. And then I turned away and kept walking forward.

When I was already one or two paces ahead of him, I heard a surprising response. The old man called out to me with compassion in his voice “God bless”. It caught me by surprise. I thought I was the one with something to offer him. How could a man who walks like that offer me something, anything? I have much to learn in the city, from people I might never expect to learn from. What would I have learned from him if I had approached him wanting to learn from him, instead of feeling like I am the only one with something to offer?

Life happens on the sidewalk. And that’s where I’ll spend my summer. Learning that I have much more to receive than I have to give.

False Narratives

As our staff team of 4 gathered today in Lancaster to prepare for Sidewalks together, we concluded the day by watching the movie Crash together.  WHAT A MOVIE!?!

I am struck by how the characters in the movie are put in situations that cause their false narratives to quickly bubble to the surface.  I even wrote down how some of these underlying false narratives connected to their stereotypes and racism.

• 'affirmative action stole my father's life' - so now I have to do what I can to steal life back
• 'my instinct was to cling to my husband as the black man walked by, then he hijacked my car' - see I was right about them
• 'once I was assaulted by a man' - now I know I can't ever trust that man
• 'my son wasn't there for me once' - so it couldn't have been him who helped me

Our view of E. End Ave.

On some level, you can't fault the characters for arriving at their conclusions. On another level you see in the movie how false narratives and stereotypes left unchecked can lead to painful, broken situations.

Although the average day does NOT involve car crashes and gun point situations, it DOES involve combating false narratives.  It makes me wonder what twisted truths are tucked away in my heart as I come to Lancaster?  What past events have jaded my current view of a certain ethnic group / men or women / the elderly?  What lenses do I have on as I walk the sidewalks of Lancaster?

My prayer tonight is that God would highlight my false narratives this summer and replace them with HIS narrative of truth!

More to come..... Students will join us on Wednesday!!!!

hidden blessings

Last week I was sitting in the reception area of Water Street Ministries' health services, waiting to talk about the internship details for the two nursing students who will work there this summer. Someone walked by another woman waiting there and complimented the woman's clothes. Turns out that woman made her outfit - she ripped up an old pair of jeans, using bright yellow fabric for patches. The yellow fabric came from an old shirt, which she turned into a cool, modern summer shirt with several sets of straps (my description isn't doing it justice).

I ended up talking with this woman for 10 minutes, admiring her work, hearing about how she makes the clothes, and about how you can buy jeans like hers for $50 or $60 at the mall. She told me she was handed a needle and thread when she was 4 years old. Her grandkids and their friends are always asking her for customized outfits, which she enjoys making (but wishes the kids were interested in learning how to do it themselves). We commiserated together about how many people buy things new and throw them out when they are barely worn, which contributes to our financial problems and the issue of having more trash than we know what to do with. When I described a small hole that was developing in a less-than-ideal place on a pair of my jeans, she told me how to fix it.

What I thought was a business visit turned into a lot more. It was a thoroughly enjoyable 1omin. Gotta love the blessings that come from interacting with new people. In fact, it's probably worth viewing every stranger as a hidden blessing.