An Enormous Thank You!

At the beginning of March I was really humbled and was learning some big lessons about trusting God when it comes to fundraising.

Now, I can look back and really say that I have been floored... utterly astounded. For two and a half months we really struggled to see how God would provide for our trip to the Amazon. We had sent out prayer letters and money barely trickled in. However, in the two weeks leading up to the trip, supporters sprung up and gave quite faithfully and generously.

The day before our trip, I was able to get final numbers from RCE and my mind was blown. You guys gave above and beyond what we could have ever expected.

From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for your generosity! We are safely back in Bogota after a week in the Brazilian jungle. We will be sure to post some thoughts regarding the trip.

Thank you!

Chains are Broken

"I once felt shame talking about my mother. I was ashamed that she used to be a prostitute. Then I came to understand that she only did it for us-- for her children," Marta explained. We were all huddled in her bedroom, listening to her story. Minutes ago, her mother, Cecilia, had shared her story with us-- an Opportunity International team from the USA.

I had a hard time assimilating everything.

The tall building with several different rooms-- each occupied by an entire family. The moisture that permeated everything. The dank smell. The crowded rooms. The poverty.

Then there was the pain that they carried in their hearts. And then, then the healing they had experienced after an encounter with the living God.

Cecilia and Elenita are both former prostitutes. Opportunity International, through their micro-credit program, has helped them leave that life behind and find a new source of income. Cecilia realized that by working in prostitution she was taking money away from her client's family to give to her own. She wanted a new way of earning money.

Elenita shared her story with us:

She came to Bogota when she was 14 years old because her mother had died and she had no one. She had an infant with her and was hoping to find support from the deceased father's child. Little did she know, her mother-in-law and all the women in that family were involved in prostitution. Her mother-in-law hated her and finally kicked her out of their home. Her sister-in-law went with her, not wanting to leave Elenita on her own. Every day, her sister-in-law would go work and bring back enough money to support them. Elenita felt ashamed that she wasn't working so she begged to go work with her, but her sister-in-law refused.

One day, Elenita followed her sister-in-law to work and saw her stand outside a door way, scantily clad. Elenita followed suit and stood next to her. Her sister-in-law begged her to go back before it was too late. She explained that they stood out there to sell their bodies... Elenita refused to go back. She had nothing else... she had a body, so she figured she could sell it to provide for her own child.

After a couple of months her mother-in-law became jealous because Elenita was making much more money. Her jealousy drove her to take Elenita's son away from her and she also began stealing her income. Several weeks later, Elenita was able to take her son back and get away from her mother-in-law.

She was involved in prostitution for over 30 years. She had six children, and three of them have died-- two of them were murdered.

I couldn't imagine the pain she'd been through... and yet, she spoke of Christ's comfort and hope. She talked about the transformation she had experienced, thanks to the work Opportunity was doing. She knew that Jesus was the only way she could have left her former life behind.

She knew chains had been broken by the power of the cross.

An Aching Heart

Down feathers were everywhere. Kids were running around shrieking. We were looking for two missing jackets. A wrestling match broke out to my left. I shook my head and sighed.

What in the world is going ON? Why does this feel so chaotic?

About five of us from my graduating class got together yesterday and went to visit our beloved Recyclers' Ministry (their parents pick through garbage and find recyclable material to sell to factories and that's what they live off of). I was super excited. I had seen them last in May, but was really excited to go back with people from my class. We quickly put together a Bible story and a short application. We decided who was leading songs and then we headed over to the neighborhood.

When we reached their corner, three of the kids started sprinting toward us. I stopped my conversation in mid-sentence and ran out to meet them. Soon, I was overwhelmed with hugs and kisses. Ah, I love them so much.

We started playing some tag and then sang some silly songs with them. Then we began acting out the Jonah story. After one time, Natis and I figured we should do it again, in Opera style (thanks, Medeba!). After that we did it super slowly... and then super quickly. The kids LOVED it! And, having seen it four times, they remembered the story well =)

After story time we gave them a cup of milk and some bread for snack. They loved the milk and kept asking for more.

During snack time one six year old came up to us and asked if we had seen her jacket. We shook our heads, but Natis started looking for them. They were no where to be found. Since we weren't doing organized games anymore, the kids began running around. Two of them pulled out toy guns and started shooting everyone. I cringed at every gun shot. One little girl kept crying because she kept getting hit by the boys. I went to talk to one of the seven year old boys and had to take a step away when I saw him pull out a switchblade.

I felt my mouth go dry and I wasn't sure what to do.

Meanwhile, the other kids kept playing with a down pillow, by shaking it in a dog's face. The dog soon tore it apart and feathers were flying everywhere. The little boy with the blade kept coming toward us as if he were ready to hurt us.

My mind kept spinning and I felt nauseous.

Why were they so aggressive?

When I got home, I shut the door to my room, turned up the music and started crying. My heart ached... it still aches for these children. We started working with these kids four years ago... I know God has used our ministry to bring forth fruit in that neighborhood, but I felt extremely discouraged. I was sick knowing the kind of lives these kids were living... the adulthood they were walking into.

Monteria: An Overview

We arrived in Monteria around 10:00 am on Friday morning. Martha and her husband, Alfonso, were there to pick us up. Immediately, we were welcomed by their loving, latin hospitality. As we drove through Monteria, Martha began telling us about the city and the work that World Vision is carrying out there.

I was shocked to hear that 74% of the population live in slums (they call them "communities"), suriving in absolute poverty. I looked out the car window and saw nice houses, nice cars and nicely dressed people. And these are the 26% who are rich... I thought to myself, feeling slightly nauseated by the contrast. She continued to tell us that Monteria was a microcosm of the problems Colombia faces-- the corruption, the poverty and the violence. Every day, she told us, there were deaths. Drug trafficking was quite common and most deaths were related to the cartel.

Though I learned in my classes this last year that Colombia had achieved universal primary education, I saw first hand that many children roam the streets, unable to enter the overcrowed public schools and incapable of affording private schools.

We visted ASODESI, a World Vision sponsored school where Martha is the director. There, she gave us a tour and told us more about the work they do. From there, we went into one of the slums, La Candelaria. One of the school staff members accompanied us and we visited a family whose children went to ASODESI. They graciously welcomed us into their humble home and offered us chairs to keep us from sitting on the dirt floor. They shared with us the difference World Vision has made in their lives and their gratitude toward God and the work that they do. Polo, their 12 year old son, proudly sang a typical coastal song for us. He then told us that his dream was to one day become a veterinarian.

I later asked Martha if this was an attainable dream, or if that's all it'd ever be... a dream. She fervently shook her head and assured me that because of his education at ASODESI there was definitely a possibility of him one day becoming a veterinarian. I smiled.

Saturday and Sunday we traveled with Martha, Alfonso and their 13 year old son Felipe, to Tolú and Coveñas-- two coastal cities. We were able to spend time on the beach and swimming together. My mom and Martha were able to talk for hours. It was clear that she was often lonely and didn't know who to share the struggles of her job with. She was able to pray and share this burden with my mom. I know she was deeply blessed by this time together.

Monday morning we on our way to ASODESI bright and early: 5:30 a.m. The weather is incredibly hot all year round, making it impossible to do much in the afternoon. Most schools start at 6:00 a.m. to take advantage of the coolness of morning. The temperature easily reaches 40ºC (99ºF) every day for a couple of hours... finally cooling down some by 8:00 p.m. But even then, I slept with a fan on and absolutely no sheets every night, still waking up warm.

At 6:00 a.m., we participated in a teachers' meeting at ASODESI. They had a small devotional and then shared with us more about the school. Of the 650 students, the vast majority sponsored by World Vision. The kids still pay a small amount every month (about $15 USD). However, there are many who still can't afford to attend. These $15 obviously don't cover the costs involved with running a school. Martha continuously worries about the sustainability of the school.

Around 8:30, my mom was given the floor... she began speaking to the 48 staff members about the importance and value of their jobs. She then asked me to share 15-20 minutes about what kind of impact my teachers had on my life. Believe me, I had plenty of material to fill. She continued speaking about education and personal development for the next five hours. I was amazed at their ability to focus for seven hours (6:00 am to 1:00 pm), sitting in a room with the temperature steadily rising.

After the "conference" we met with the English teachers for a while. One of the school's emphasis is English as a tool to break the chains of generational poverty. The English teachers were all from Monteria and had learned English at the university there. However, their English was quite limited. One of them had never spoken to a native English speaker before. I was shocked. They had no text books, yet were expected to teach poor children English in crowded classrooms with little to no materials. Wow.

The next day was pretty similar to the first. We shared ideas about how to make classes more didactic. I was able to share a lot about my teachers' teaching methods and we played a lot of games. It was quite fun.

On Wednesday morning we were invited by Samuel (the music and art teacher) to visit the community with him. I was ecstatic. We weren't sure, however, if we were going to be supporting an event his church was having or if we were actually running the event. We arrived at the community and found dozens of kids waiting inside the church for us. Turns out, we were running the event :).

We quickly got organized and split responsibilites. Thankfully, we had bought 90 eggs and the church had hard-boiled them for us. We brought an Easter egg decorating kit with us and decided that would be our hands-on activity. Samuel and I sang songs with the kids in 90º weather and then my mom shared a Bible story. We then broke up into groups and had them color eggs. They absolutely loved it and then were able to bring an egg home with them to eat later.

Wednesday was by far my favorite day of the trip. Samuel insisted that we were always welcome there. His dad was the pastor of the church and they are committed to seeing transformation and redemption in the lives of the community members.

Thanks for your prayers :) I'll continue sharing reflections about specifc parts of the trip in time.

Teams, Teams, Teams :)

It's been about twenty four hours since the GEBC team left. Though I absolutely loved having them here, I kind of let out a sigh of relief. Teams are always exciting... and always exhausting. Though I wasn't with them 24/7, I still thoroughly enjoyed getting to know them and partner with them at a variety of ministries.

It's been a while since I've felt connected to Glen Ellyn Bible Church. Spending one semester in the Wheaton area four years ago, is hardly enough to maintain that connection. The majority of the friends I made four years ago are no longer at GEBC, and I need to remind myself that GEBC is still my family's home church even if it doesn't always feel like home.

However, getting to know this team of sixteen gave me more connections at church than I've had in a while. It was nice to see Fletch and Mama Jane and several other students again and it was great to meet so many other fabulous people. I look forward to seeing them around on my infrequent visits to GEBC during the semester.

During these last two weeks I was asked, "Does it feel weird to only be 19 and already be translating and leading teams?" I hesitated, but had to reply 'no.' Due to my parents' jobs I've found myself in many translating positions in the past. Though I've never actually led a team before, I was pretty involved with helping out with the logistics of the ministries we visited with the GEBC team. I absolutely LOVE being part of mission trips that come to Colombia. I LOVE watching the members experience Colombia for the first time. I LOVE knowing that for some, it isn't the first time, but fell in love with it on a previous trip.

My heart flutters when I see others gain a love for the Colombian people... for the country I love so deeply. I'm always encouraged to see North American teenagers give of themselves, selflessly serving people in need. I was impressed with this year's GEBC team-- their maturity and heart for God was evident. They had various obstacles in just two weeks-- being mugged, several health issues, etc-- and yet, they still were on fire, ready to serve God.

They were willing to be the seed that must die before it can bear much fruit.

All Things New

It wasn't my first time and yet, I still felt a little uncomfortable. As we zig-zagged our way through the orphanage's hallways, I felt my heartbeat accelerate. I knew what was waiting upstairs.

A big room with white walls. Mattresses scattered about the floor. Baby chairs lining the walls. Special needs children everywhere you turned.

You could hear the moaning and the crying way before entering. The hair on the back of my neck was on end... and upon entering, I struggled to breathe easily. My eyes took in the sight and my heart broke.

Dozens of children lay on mattresses or sat in chairs. They couldn't speak and few could make any significant movements. Some had obvious physical deformities and all had special needs.

The nurses soon gave us jobs. For the most part, we just fed kids. Feeding one child could take up to an hour, because spooning liquid into their mouths was a tedious process. Those who weren't feeding simply sat next to other children and comforted them. It was incredible to see how though these kids couldn't speak, they could sense a tender presence. Their sobbing quickly turned into quiet moans.

I was impressed with how the GEBC team responded to these children. Though I'm sure many have had contact with special needs children in the past, I don't think anything could have fully prepared them for this orphanage. And still, many without hesitation, stooped down and cuddled children, singing softly or simply rubbing a child's hand. It was beautiful to see the love of God penetrating this seemingly forgotten orphanage.

After feeding one child I went over to Juan David, an older child who also happened to be blind. He was curled up in the fetal position, rocking back and forth to the rhythm of his moans. I gently touched his shoulder and he instantly sat up and reached up to grab me. He pulled himself up and climbed up onto me. Once he was comfortable he nestled his head into my neck and kept rocking back and forth. He couldn't keep still and for an hour, we kept moving around trying to find the most comfortable position for the two of us. As I hugged him, I prayed for him.

It was easy to get discouraged and wonder where his life fit into God's greater purpose. And for a while, I was discouraged. My heart broke realizing that Juan David's entire life would be spent in this orphanage, because adoption was highly improbable. And yet, I felt God's comforting whisper, reassuring me that his sovereignty and love were compatible.

My mind drifted back to the Adam and Eve. And the fall of man. And the curse that followed. All of creation was cursed. Genetics were cursed. These children were born with these illnesses and disabilities because they were born into a cursed world.

My heart throbbed and yet I was comforted, knowing that my beautiful savior, was at work redeeming humanity... Christ didn't just come to save us from our sin, but also from our pain, our sickness and our shame. Not one of these precious children were unknown to God. I joyfully imagined the day that they would sing and leap in heaven, running into the arms of the One who had made all things new.

A Spiritual Diagnosis

"The team was held up and robbed at knife-point."

The words came like a punch to my stomach. I felt a whirlwind of thoughts swirling through my mind at a sickening pace. I gripped my cell-phone and managed to

ask my mom, "Where? Was anyone hurt?"

"I'll tell you the story when I get home," was her only reply.

I hung up and allowed the words to sink in. Our home church (GEBC)

in the Chicago area had sent a team of 12 high school students to Colombia-- my home-- on a short missions trip. This wasn't the first time Bogota had been a GEBC missions destination, but it was the first time they were coming focused on working with the poor in the worst parts of Bogota. And working with the poor in large cities always involves risk.

Always.

I suppose it was bound to happen at some point. As a missionary family

in Bogota, we've seen, hosted and planned several mission trips to Colombia. But this was the first time any team had come into such proximity with the violent effects of sin.

After talking to my mom, more details began to fill in gaps of the story. Five men approached the group of eight as they were walking up to a children's home (Buena Semilla, which means 'The Good Seed") in Barrio Egipto. They were armed and demanded their valuables. Several cameras and cell phones, the church credit card and the pastor's wedding rings were stolen. Some of the men threatened the girls on the team, showing them their knives as a tool of intimidation. Thankfully, no one was hurt.

My thoughts kept bouncing back and forth between praying for the team and hurting for the thieves. These men probably had younger siblings or cousins who benefitted from the services that Buena Semilla offered. No doubt that they knew the pastor who had poured out his life for these people for over half a decade. And yet, they weren't free from the devastating effects of sin.

I felt my heart get heavy, as it absorbed the extent of our fall-- once again. As a passionate advocate for social justice, I find it easy to get caught up in the physical reality of these people: their hunger, their nakedness, their suffering. It's much easier to see their lack of physical resources or justice and fight for those, forgetting that these are simply symptoms of a deeper problem... a deeper sickness. The Great Physician offered the diagnosis long ago: sin.

Man wasn't simply cursed with having to eat by the sweat of his brow. Woman wasn't simply condemned to feel pain during childbirth. All of creation was cursed-- perverting our desires, our dreams, our motives, our relationships. We live in a fallen world. And working with fallen people puts us right in the middle of these fallen desires.

While these men followed their greed, they were controlled by sin.

The cry for justice must be met by a freedom from sin.

Barrio Egipto

Photograph by Rob Tracy

Cut and Paste

Half way through second semester. It feels extremely unreal-- as if I just left Colombia a couple of weeks ago. But no, eight weeks later and I'm wondering where the semester went.

This post will be fairly scattered, attempting to give a snapshot of various aspects of my life =). Think of it as cutting parts of my life apart and then pasting them all together in one blog post.

Life in America is still, well you know, life in America. I've definitely had highs and lows; I've watched my heart change and break and grow. In January I was really struggling with the fact that I was back in America-- my heart longed to be in Colombia, working with my hands and loving those who are visibly poor. February reminded me of all the ministry opportunities here: the poor in spirit. And now, now its March. God is moving and my heart skips a beat when I get a glimpse of his Spirit transforming lives.

I've been in limbo-land when it comes to Christian ministries on campus. Last semester I was involved with Cru, but for a variety of reasons I decided to look for another fellowship. After several weeks of traveling around, I've narrowed down my choice to the Navigators and InterVarsity. I've enjoyed both tremendously and have seriously been challenged in my faith through friendships I've developed there. My goal was to choose a ministry by the end of February, but that didn't happen. So maybe by the end of March?

 

Over spring break I'll be flying down to Florida to spend a week with my grandparents. I'm looking forward to this time with them, because I haven't seen them for a couple of months and rarely get more than a weekend with them when I do see them.

Summer 2011 is approaching and am I ever ready!

I'll be flying down to Colombia before the 20th of May and hope to be there until late August. I'm looking for jobs or internship opportunities with various ministries in Colombia.

Yesterday I found out that two of my friends, Deepika and Carina, will be coming to Colombia for a month this summer. Besides shrieking and giggling like crazy, I could not wipe the stupid smile off my face for a couple of hours. I'm so excited to spend this time with them and Natis in Colombia this summer.

Tyler will be coming down in July for a week or two. It will be amazing to have her see that entire sphere of my life that is so foreign to her. Chrissy will be coming if she gets a certain job in the next couple of weeks. Karissa (another good friend) might be coming as well.

Hahahaha. Needless to say, it will be quite the summer of visitors, but I am incredibly excited.

Unofficial

"No, no. The owner of all the bars in Champaign started it-- so he wouldn't lose business over St. Patrick's Day," Tyler clarified the facts for me.

I just sat there, trying to imagine such a grotesque holiday: Unofficial St. Patrick's Day, pride of the University of Illinois. So, the facts are these: In 1996, bar owner Scott Cochrane, created this holiday to increase his profit. St. Patrick's Day normally falls over the university's spring break, so bars are hurt when students go home. By creating a new "holiday," bars were gaining as much money as possible. I've heard that the campus population doubles, due to a terrible migration of college students coming to U of I. In past years, bars opened as early as 7:00 am and heavy drinking continued through the entire weekend. In 2007 police fines during this weekend totaled $44,000. In 2006, a graduate student fell off a moving motorcycle and died.

I must say, this entire week as been leading up to Unofficial weekend. In every class I hear murmurs and excited whispers about how this weekend is one where they can get "smashed" and "wasted." I am disgusted and saddened at the same time. Disgusted at the bar owners, encouraging drunkenness so that they could make more money. And extremely saddened to see the profound emptiness surrounding me. My classmates and some friends are desperately empty, seeking fulfillment and momentary pleasure over the weekend. It hurts to think about how many will suffer from alcohol poisoning, rape, battery, etc.

The Christian organizations on campuses in the past have held 24 hour prayer rooms so that Christians could come together and lift this campus up to Jesus. Others have hosted water tables, attempting to prevent dehydration and share the love of Jesus to those in drunken stupor.

Be lifting up this campus in your prayers this weekend. May some hit rock bottom and turn to Jesus. May God in his mercy forgive the flood of sins soaking this campus. May Christians be emboldened to take a stand and love others courageously, whether than includes handing out water, holding back hair while comforting those throwing up, or simply sharing the Gospel.

An Overview...

Winter clothing is quite excessive, I must admit... leggings, socks, pants, long sleeve shirt, fleece jacket, winter jacket, gloves, scarf, hat and boots. The end.

Going outside is an entire ordeal. I have to prepare myself to spend 10 minutes getting ready to walk out the door, making sure I am properly attired. And no, this doesn't involve a preoccupation with fashion; it's a survival mechanism. I used to consider myself an outdoors kind of person and now I'm beginning to reconsider.

Could it really be that I was enjoying tropical sun only two weeks ago? Have classes really been going on for almost two weeks? Ah, humans… creatures of habit. I’ve fallen into habits and routines that pertain to life here at U of Illinois. Class, friends, food, sleep, church, friends, class and when it’s convenient… sleep.

This post will mostly be an overview of my life and what I should be doing this semester.

ACADEMICS

I’m excited for what this semester holds. True to my nerdy self, I love all of my classes this semester. Below is the list of my classes:

- Arabic

- Portuguese

- Comparative politics of developing nations

- Civil society, NGOs and international social movements

- Comparative world literature: cross-cultural examination of love and death

- Modern Dance II

Yes, I am taking a dance class. And yes, I’m pretty bad at it. But it’s fun… I have to remember to just relax and laugh it off.

Everything else is quite fabulous, though… I’ve met some Colombians in my Portuguese class. It’s amusing to try and speak Portuguese with a Spanish accent. More than anything, though, I’ve really enjoyed meeting people who speak Spanish fluently. It’s refreshing.

SPIRITUAL

I’ve begun going to TCBC’s (my church) youth group. I believe I’ll be helping out as a middle school girls’ small group leader. I’m looking forward to the opportunities to speak into the lives of younger girls and encouraging them to run after God with all that they are.

At the end of last semester I began to feel disenchanted with Cru (Campus Crusade). For a variety of reasons, I decided to try out other Christian groups on campus this semester. I went to Navigators last week and will probably go for a couple more weeks. After that I’ll try out InterVarsity or Axiom (Campus Christian Ministries). I’m looking for a group where I truly feel the community of Christ and where I feel I can use my gifts best to serve others.

SERVICE

I’m thinking about joining a coed community service fraternity this semester. I miss doing service projects and I figured that I should start being intentional about finding those opportunities. I’m hoping to join this semester so that I can learn of the service opportunities in the area