With Gratitude

Seasons matter. They indicate to our senses the passage of time. Without them, I feel disoriented, like this day of gratitude has appeared without much warning. Finally today, the temperature fell and my mind could reconcile a bit more that it is, in fact, November.

Our office was open today for a half-day while over 90 volunteers from all around the country served families that were perfect strangers just 4 days ago. On my way home, I stopped at Miss Smiles' home and got there just in time for sweet potatoes, some unknown southern vegetable similar to a pepper, chicken, and baked macaroni. Her daughter and son-in-law also came by to wish the volunteers who had been painting a Happy Thanksgiving. It was a beautiful half-hour--a mix of race, culture, tradition--all in the framework of gratitude.

As I've noticed the importance of seasons in the physical realm, I consider the seasons in our spiritual lives as well. I know that this season is different... and I'm beginning to be ok with that. I'm fighting the urge to replicate my CO life and instead am asking what this season should bring. All the while, I'm grateful that life brings changes, seasons--that not every day is the same, that while there may be indicators, we're not certain what that will mean. I'm thankful for uncertainty and the opportunity to seek and trust.

This Thanksgiving day, I'm also filled with gratitude that I am human, that I feel, that I was made to love and be loved, and that so many have been part of the seasons of my life.

We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
For lessons learned in how to trust in You
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream
In abundance or in need
--Nichole Nordeman, an excerpt from "Gratitude"

Home Away from Home

Another new beginning... my first night in my new apartment! Unpacking tonight made me feel extremely grateful for this place, this chance, this year. It's a shotgun style place with high ceilings and exposed brick over the closed-off fireplaces. There are 19 less beds then in the last house, so it automatically feels less lonely, less like others are missing. It's furnished but without a TV and I'm looking forward to the reflection time that will inevitably allow.

Many thanks to Max for bailing me out and helping me move, packing my entire car, while I rested. (I'm fighting off some kind of cold/flu right now.) Thankfully we're not working Saturday, so I'll have a true weekend to recuperate.

As I look around this new home of mine, I ponder what the memories of the next 11 or so months might entail...

Sunrise, Sunset

Just a few moments ago a sweet girl, accompanied by her father, came in to fill out an application to have help rebuilding their home. I should expect it, but every time a resident launches into their story, I'm shocked. I suppose I should be grateful that I haven't become desensitized to it all just yet.

She explained, "My mom kind of drowned in the storm. I evacuated like a week before, but she didn't," with unbelief and denial still laced in her voice over two years later.

When she turned in her application to me, her dad also handed me the program from the funeral of his 55-year old wife. Smudged with fingerprints and worn with time, the photo of this wife and mother was so pixelated I could barely make out her features. All I could say to him was a heartfelt, yet completely inadequate, "I'm sorry." I could see the memories in his eyes as he took it back and studied her face on the cover. He couldn't speak, but simply pointed to the top: Sunrise- 1950, Sunset- 2005.

Oh God, before the sun sets on my days, help me to live my live as wholly yours!

Blessed Reassurance

"Yet there is no doubt that God prepared me for this life I now lead,

connecting the varied and ironic threads of my experience into a beautiful tapestry as He would see fit."

--Ravi Zacharias, Walking from East to West

Balancing Act

"My life belongs to others just as much as it belongs to myself." -- Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out

After working three Saturdays straight, I had the pleasure of sleeping in, relaxing, watching football, and reading yesterday. Callie Redfield blessed me with some of Henri Nouwen's work and I'm eating it up. Being on the go so much makes me relish the still moments and realize that I desperately need more stillness and solitude in my life to be effective. Writing on this blog has forced me to think and process and I'm grateful for the chance to do so! I want to learn and grow as much as possible this year and I know that reflection is a key factor in that.

But the real question is, how can I effectively balance inward reflection with outward relationships?

"In the midst of a turbulent, often chaotic, life we are called to reach out, with courageous honesty to our innermost self, with relentless care to our fellow human beings, and with increasing prayer to our God. To do that, however, we have to face and explore directly our inner restlessness, our mixed feelings toward others, and our deep-seated suspicions about the absence of God." -- Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out

Breathing In

Today is a perfect day in New Orleans. I'm in Mid-City, sitting outside on N. Carrollton Ave. at my Bean Gallery coffee shop, a pleasant breeze dancing through the air, gas lanterns and palm trees across the way. This morning had a chill to it, like the promise of fall on the horizon. With Saturday's volunteers out the door and to their sites, I could take a minute to breathe deep.

Finally caught up on voicemail, I've retreated after a long week of women- over 200 of them! It was Women's Rebuild Week and the busiest week so far. It went well, but I'm glad it's over! :)

For the first time since arriving here, I think I feel comfortable. Driving through the Garden District, I realized that some of the streets were familiar to me. I just might be adjusting to this town. I also successfully navigated my way to the Wal-Mart on Tchoupitoulas (I dare you to take a stab at pronouncing that one!).

I didn't anticipate this transition to be so all-consuming. The energy expended in "figuring things out"--everything from budgeting to the cheapest place to buy gas--has also managed to cloud my vision. I've been straining ahead, and now I'm looking back. It finally feels like I can see things clearly again, like the lens of self is becoming more and more transparent.

Anticipating that the chaos will continue, I want to learn how to be peaceful, kind, gentle in spite of how stressed I might feel. I want to be one that takes the time to see people for who they are--not just a name on a volunteer calendar or homeowner list. I want to be a participant in rebuilding of much more than homes.

"God had been in the shadows all along. When God puts a broken life back together, He removes the scars because he builds from the inside out. And when God steadies a faltering life, He puts you on His footing."
--Ravi Zacharias, Walking from East to West

Remembering we're all here for a purpose, that this life is not accidental, I'm breathing in the beauty of this day.

Any Given Sunday--The Church Search

During family vacations as a kid, I dreaded Sunday morning because it meant the inevitable trip to a local church where we didn't know a soul. It always felt as though all eyes were on us, all whispers were about who we might be and were we came from. Looking back, I don't think I quite understood the larger body of Christ.

Thankfully my church search has been quite different than my middle school remembrances. I've visited the Vineyard a few times where Jeff and Janell Hirschoff, Fort Collins-ites who moved to Kenner, LA just a few weeks before my journey began, are running the volunteer program through Mercy Response.

Today I attended my second New Orleans church, Redeemer Presbyterian (PCA). Hoping for solid preaching and interesting worship, I headed down to the Garden District to visit the only PCA church in New Orleans proper. It's a small church that has been hosting post-Katrina volunteer teams and has worked on over 100 homes in the greater New Orleans area. Adele, a lawyer in the city, introduced herself and broke the awkward "I don't know anyone here" silence. Ray, the pastor and a NY native, was also very welcoming. He was invited to the church the week before the storm. Little did he know what his ministry would become. His family has had visitors or mission teams staying at their home over half of the year!

They were hosting a post-church potluck, but I already had a ticket to the Saints game, thanks to a very generous individual! (They lost and are now 0-4. If I've learned anything about the people of NOLA, I'm sure those Saints will keep on marching!) And Steeler fans, don't worry, I'm still black and gold through and through!

I'll leave you with a G. K. Chesterton quote from Orthodoxy in Redeemer's program this morning:

"Suppose we hear an unknown man spoken of by many men. Suppose we were puzzled to hear that some men said he was too tall and some too short; some objected to his fatness, some lamented his leanness; some thought him too dark, and some too fair. One explanation... would be that he might be an odd shape. But there is another explanation. He might be the right shape... Perhaps (in short) this extraordinary thing is really the ordinary thing; at least the normal thing, the center."

I miss you all!

P.S. Women Builders- We're hosting over 100 volunteers this coming week to work on 13 or 14 homes for Women's Rebuild Week! Preparing has brought back lots of memories and pink hammers!

Only in "da Parish"

I've survived my 3rd week, and the first without my family in town, with the St. Bernard Project in 'da Parish' as it is fondly referred to in these parts.

While I try to adjust, I pray that I can be a light in this place. It's difficult to leave my faith-filled support network and I feel a sense of urgency to find a place to connect and worship.

It's obvious that my position with the St. Bernard Project will consume much of my time and energy. The pace in a post-disaster setting is quick; the need is so evident.

I've seen lots of firsts this week: a completed home and ribbon-cutting ceremony, a family approved for help followed with tears of relief, volunteers changed from crabby to understanding, all combined with glimpses of grace along the way.

Yesterday I chuckled at a few things I thought I'd share...

Only in St. Bernard Parish will you find that:

• If you need a lawnmower, you should go to a bicycle store. (Apparently this is common knowledge and a rather consistent combo in Louisiana.)
• You just might come home to find a frog in your house. (I've found that a broom works fairly well for sweeping the little guy out the front door!)
• The local coffee barista (Mike) might look at you like you're speaking Greek when you ask for a large, non-fat, vanilla latte, like he's never heard of it before. (I finally splurged on a latte this week when I was running low on energy and a bit early for work. I went into the 3 Friends coffee shop to be greeted by someone who looked extremely similar to Elvis (also Mike, but the barista's sidekick). After being asked, "Is that the one with the foam?" in response to my beverage choice, the very friendly Elvis clone chatted with me for the next 10 minutes while Barista Mike called his wife, who normally makes the drinks but was recovering from surgery, for instructions on how to make a latte.)

This place is truly unique! I am blessed to be here through (get ready for this southern talk) the support of all y'all! Please keep the prayers coming as I continue to discern how to spend my time and where to go to church. I know I need grace for each moment!

Hanging on to Hope

It's been a whirlwind week for me, as was to be expected. Now into week #2, I'm adjusting... but I will admit that exhaustion sets in rather easily for me as I adapt to this disaster mindset.

A tropical storm was heading our way over the weekend and all the AmeriCorps teams in the area were mobilized to create temporary shelters for those residents of St. Bernard Parish in FEMA trailers. It was such an odd feeling... the impending doom of another disaster. People were skiddish, anticipating the next 'big one.' They say that winds above 65 mph could destroy the trailers.

It amazes me how matter-of-factly the disaster stories are told in 'da Parish.' Katrina is part of their lives now and they refer to it as nonchalantly as 'making groceries.'

One homeowner I met last week retold his story of over 100 mph winds during Katrina. Joe and his father watched as the water turned from a few feet to 18 feet, breaking down their front door and stranding them on their own roof. They soon were selecting trees, one for each, that would be their next lifesaver if the water continued to rise.

Trying to shelter his father from the rain that was actually cutting his legs (at 100 mph I guess rain can do that), Joe managed to maneuver a boat onto the roof as a shield from the elements. His success was followed promptly by a tree crashing into the back of his head, knocking his face into the boat that was his shelter. Spitting teeth and blood, Joe held onto that boat to protect his father.

Now when you ask Joe how he's doing, you'll inevitably hear something along the lines of, "We're making it," or "We're still here." Joe was a teacher in the inner-city with at-risk youth before the storm. With no health insurance, his diabetes is out of control and can't work. From the way he talks about that time, it's obvious that he was a blessing to those students.

We started working on Joe's house this week. It's been gutted for quite some time and finally there is insulation and drywall going in. "It looks like a house again," he says. "You can't see through the walls anymore..."

Joe told me that he's found God again in the midst of all of this. He doesn't quite know when or how he lost his faith, but he knows that it's back. Instead of being on his roof hanging onto a boat, he's in his trailer hanging onto hope.

Blessings Abound

Upon my arrival in St. Bernard Parish I thought I would share some of the blessings that I've seen provided, truly more than I could have asked or imagined:

1. Financial support-- I only need $60.14 more per month!! (thanks to everyone who has contributed through my church, at my going away party, and otherwise!)


2. A much-needed bike rack (thanks to Andy, Tina, and Fosten)


3. Kitchen items (courtesy of Callie and Kelli)


4. A happy iPod (thanks to my generous friends)


5. Safe travel and company on my drive to N'awlins (thanks to Marcie and Gordon for putting up with me over the many miles)


6. And the biggest surprise of all... A HOUSE AND NOT A FEMA TRAILER! I'm staying in an amazing furnished house that has been remodeled for volunteers and I have it all to myself until November!

Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. Glory to him in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:19-20)

Tomorrow I hit the ground running and report to the office.

MANY THANKS for each one of you and your support as I've begun this journey!

Reality vs. Denial

How do you "wrap up" 5 years of life? How do you leave friends, family, coworkers and not leave a part of yourself?

As I've asked myself these questions over the past weeks, it's been a battle between denial and reality. While it's much simpler to just put off the inevitable, the truth quietly waits around the corner. In this case, tomorrow marks the end of the road for my roommate and I, at least for a time. Endings are difficult and painful, but also a sign that bonds of love have been formed there. It almost makes me grateful for the good-bye tears--helps me to know that these past 5 years were also meaningful and intentional.

And so, the answer is that you do leave a part of yourself, but you gain much more than you give. I'm trying to embrace all of the emotions I feel during this transition, knowing that our great God, the one who sees it all, has my times in His hands and will continue to lead me beside still waters and restore my soul.

So many people have been instruments in my life--Thank you!

On the journey to New Orleans, Leg 1 is over and Leg 2 is about to begin. Tomorrow I bid adieu to Marcie and my brother and I depart for Crosbyton to stay with the most lovely couple in west Texas, Opie and Big Daddy. We will hopefully arrive late Saturday night in NOLA, get settled into the FEMA trailer on Sunday, and start at The St. Bernard Project on Monday!

For those that were wondering about Humberto, he should have already passed by when we arrive. Thanks for your concern, and I'll keep y'all posted!

"Whereas the Civil Rights movement required the activism of a just cause, Katrina requires the activism of a merciful heart.
This kind of compelling opportunity comes along only once in a generation. Right here, right now, this is our moment."
--Seth Barnes, Adventures in Missions

A Page is Turned

It's finally here! Decision made. Adventure started. Chapter begun.

Nearly 5 years after arriving in this great state of Colorado with it's beautiful vistas, I am setting off on September 12 for St. Bernard Parish, Chalmette, LA to work with St. Bernard Project. The views will be drastically different, and I'm not sure that I'm fully prepared for the contrast.

This will be the place that I record "the entire experience" and I hope you will visit often to read my accounts of St. Bernard Parish residents and their post-Katrina journeys of hope and perseverance.

For you CO folks, there's talk of a going away shin-dig, so check back for more details.

I'm honored to be going, yet humbled with the knowledge that I really can't do it alone! I'm counting on lots of visitors!