A Gift a Day

Every morning I wake up with an anxious excitement, anticipating how this next day will unfold. It's as if I wake up every morning with a sweet little gift sitting at the end of my bed, waiting for me to discover the magic that's inside. The magic comes in all different forms.

 Some days it's a magical sadness that nearly weighs me down and wears me out. The magic of walking past the houses constructed of scraps of metal, wood and perhaps even some cement, to the ones pieced together out of carefully chosen scraps of trash. The "homes" made of single mothers who have fled Nicaragua for a "better life" in Costa Rica, were they can't work because they're illegal, and can't feed their children because they can't work, and can't feed themselves because they can't feed their children. Homes like those of Maria Jesus. 

When she unashamedly led us into her "home," I was in complete and utter shock, not so much from the conditions she was living in - I have seen homes like these before - but from her willingness to welcome us into her home, offer us a cup of coffee, and proudly tell us that she picked the location and managed to out a roof over her and her son's heads entirely on her own. But as soon as we asked her how things were going, her demeanor began to transform in a way that is becoming all too familiar. As her face began to quiver, and silent tears slowly dropped from her eyes, she began unveil the darkness of her reality. She is a 55 year old single mother of 5 children, three of whom are still in Nicaragua, and one of whom has fallen into the toxic web of drugs just outside her front door. Thus she is alone, with her twelve year old son, Rigo, one of my students, and together they are fighting to survive. She has just found out that not only is she sick, but her sister has also been diagnosed with a brain tumor and needs to come live with her; she asked for a place to peacefully die. She begged us to tell her how she could help her sister when she couldn't even provide for herself and her child. She has never received an education, is sick, and illegal. She has no money to buy a cable to wire stolen electricity to her "house," much less to buy anything other than rice and beans. She is desperate, sad and hopeless. 

                     This isn't her home - I couldn't let her see me take a picture - 

                    but rather the view from her home to the area of "nicer homes."

So you may ask where in this moment I could find a silver lining, and call this moment a gift... And that's the exact direction in which I'm moving. When she was done telling her story, we embraced Maria Jesus, prayed for her, and then Sergio, without even thinking about it first, told her we would help her build a room for her sister, as well as find money with which she could buy a cable. In moments, we had made something so seemingly out of reach into a reality, and we did it without even lifting a finger. This is a gift. To see the joy on this woman's face when we told her we'd be back Saturday morning to help her, and see the tears begin to fall down her face yet again, however this time accompanied by a smile. 

And then their is the gift that brings nothing but warmth to the heart. The simple act of calling my 17 year old student, Joselin, and asking her if Sergio and myself could take her out for a special dinner to celebrate her first Mother's Day (it was last Thursday in Costa Rica), and hearing the surprise in her voice as she eagerly asked when and where. We met her in El Parque Cultural, which is surrounded by every type of restaurant you could imagine, at 5:30 and told her she could pick the place. What we didn't consider beforehand was the fact that she may have never been out to eat, much less know where to start when picking a restaurant. Therefore, overwhelmed and  bit flustered, she chose McDonald's, because it was the on,y place she'd ever heard of, and she just really wanted a hamburger. Now as you can imagine, I shuddered a bit when she chose to eat there, nevertheless, it was the best experience at McDonalds I have ever had. As I snuggled Joselin's sweet baby Eiken, and watched her entirely too skin frame scarf down a McDonald's double cheeseburger, I could feel God's presence with us in that nasty fast food restaurant. Any economical, cultural, experiential, or spiritual differences were irrelevant; it was just A 32 year old ex-gangster from Guatemala, a 17 year old new mother from the slums of Costa Rica, and an overly blessed 22 year old girl from TN sitting together as friends, and loving one another.

Then there have been the terrifying gifts that nearly made me pee my pants, yet forced me to open my eyes and see a world that I've never wanted to believe existed; the tough gifts of experiencing what it is  like to live a whole two days without ANY running water; the uncomfortable gifts of being stuck outside in the slums, without an umbrella or a rain jacket, getting soaked to the bone, yet having to continue on with my work day regardless; the indescribable gift of crossing paths with a man who I never could've IMAGINED I'd be friends with, someone who once perhaps resembled the men from my nightmares, and being SHOWN that even the most damaged, dark, and scariest souls have beauty underneath, and have something wonderful to offer to this world.

My eyes a wide open; my heart is racing, exposed, and vulnerable; my mind is exhausted and overwhelmed; my spirit is alive and excited; my soul is absolutely full. 

“A sacrifice to be real must cost, must hurt, and must empty ourselves. Give yourself fully to God. He will use you to accomplish great things on the condition that you believe much more in His love than in your weakness.” 

― Mother Teresa

Faith is Right Now

Finally, I am getting back into my work here, in Costa Rica. The first few days were slow, trying to get back into the routine, find my place again, reestablish friendships, and get used to not having my family just a call, or a bedroom away. I never really questioned whether or not I should be here, but I did find myself questioning several times whether or not this time around would be as successful, fulfilling and inspiring. In my boredom and taste of loneliness over the weekend, I did end up asking myself, yet again, why I put myself in the situations that I do. Right when I got reacquainted with my home, family, comforts and life....was it really a good idea for me to leave it all behind again? Am I really getting anyone here that I couldn't get at home, or more importantly, giving anything here that I couldn't give at home? Was it really necessary to suffer,through a four hour plan ride with Cooper in order to return to Costa Rica?!

And then Tuesday morning, I arrived at the By With a Ball offices to find Sergio waiting for me with a huge smile on his face and his arms open wide to hug me for a good ten seconds, then thank me for coming back. That was enough to fill my heart to its rim, but the day only continued to get better from there. I was invited into a meeting where we discussed - in Spanish - the program/curriculum that had been developed in order to create leaders out the children we are working with in Los Cuadros. It is a five part, Christian based curriculum that is a wonderfully organized, but also open enough for me to be able to use my creativity, experience and knowledge to make it more applicable to the population with which Sergio and I are working.

The backbone of the curriculum is as follows:

1. Faith and hope

2. Self-esteem

3. Strength and discipline

4. Responsibility

5. Consistency and perseverance 

I can't think of five values more important to this community than those listed above, but anticipate the perplexed looks on the children's faces when I ask them, "How do you define faith? What's the difference between faith and hope? Are they both necessary in order to find happiness?" More than likely, these children have never even been asked to consider the idea of happiness, or what would/could make them happy... Therefore we have an immensely large job ahead of us, yet one that could ultimately change the future of not only this special group of children, but also their entire community, country and world. 

As we were brainstorming ideas of how to even approach these topics, we decided to first look within our own hearts, and attempt to define, dissect, and analyze what these values mean and what role they play in our own lives. The first question Sergio asked me was, "What is the base of your faith." One would the answer would come to my mind quickly and that I would be able to express my beliefs without any hesitation, but that was not the case. I stuck, I was lost, I was frozen. I thought through all the answers I was "supposed to say:" the Bible, Jesus, the church... But none of these felt real to me. Of course they're key elements of my faith, but there is something so much more powerful, so much more effective than those things in strengthening my faith, I just couldn't seem to find the words to express it. 

So I asked Sergio, "Well, what is the vase of your faith?" Of course, his response was quick and easy, "the Bible," he told me, and then began to quote verses from the Bible that speak of what faith is. He talked about the story of Abraham, sacrificing his only son, Isaac, simply because of his obedience and faith in the words of his God, and told me how very influential this story has been in his life. It was in that very instant that I realized where exactly my faith lies: in the stories of the people around me. 

I look at this man whose existence has been one of suffering since his first breath, yet whose faith pulled him allowed him to beat all the odds that were against him, and be one the strongest, most kind, giving and inspiring men I have ever known. It is in his heart and through the way that he loves that I see God most clearly.

I think about my sweet friends, Amy and Forrest, and the roller coaster they've endured, yet the graceful way they have persevered, clinging to each other and their faith to pull them through a season of fear and sadness that no parents should have to endure. I see them loving on their angel of a child, Grace, and see the hundreds of lives she has touched in her own short five years on this earth, and in this family, I see God. I see love, his mercy, his Grace.... Not understanding the mysterious ways in which he works, but unceasingly thanking him for souls like these.

I think through the stories of Christina, Mr. Whitfield, Romano, Tavarres and know that their stories are the instruments of an incomprehensible God, whose plan for each one of us is so much greater than we could ever imagine, and whose Glory shines through these people's faces.

All of a sudden in this moment, all of my questions vanished, and I was given a dose of inspiration to touch these children's lives, and attempt to share with them the way that faith can transform their lives, and the lives of those around them.

Life is Good

What a journey the past 11 days have been. 

The two weeks prior to my departure from San Jose, and return to TN were full of anxiety, nerves, worry, and an extreme case of over thinking/overanalyzing every decision I'd made in the past three months. I think I hid my internal chaos pretty well behind my large smile and positive exterior; but to say that inside I was going insane may be an understatement. I was doubting whether I had made the right decision to stay in Costa Rica, or would I be more capable of making a difference where the cultural and language barriers weren't so strong. I was disheartened by the frustration that I felt in wanting to do more for these young women and mothers, and thinking maybe this organization could find someone else who was more qualified to serve this community. I was saddened by the idea of my parents in constant worry back home. I called Callie on the verge of a breakdown, telling her that I was thinking about canceling my flight back to Costa Rica, and joining AmeriCorps and doing a year-long project in CA instead. We even talked about moving there together. I cried to my dear friend, Carissa, telling her that I felt like I was being impulsive and careless, and begged her to tell me what the right answers were. And then I talked to my father on the phone, pretended everything was fine, and felt my heart melt as he told me that I didn't have to return to Costa Rica if I decided I didn't want to, and that though he would prefer me stay at home, he would support whatever decision I made. I closed my eyes each night, and pleaded that God make this decision clear.

And then my last day, I went to my English class in Los Cuadros. When Joselin walked in with her tiny three year old niece, whose mother was at home with Joselin's baby so that she wouldn't be distracted from her studies, my heart stopped. And when the small child smiled up at me, with three rotten front teeth that not only looked painful, but also smelt like something dangerously unhealthy, I felt my stomach fall to the floor. And then I felt someone tap me on the shoulder and it was Karen. When I turned around, I was immediately enveloped in one of her loving hugs. She made me promise that I would be back; it was as if she could sense my indecision. And she repeated over and over again, "me cae muy bien," (I really like you)... and told me she had known she would like me since the first time she met me. And after class was over, her words changed to "te quiero mucho" (I love you very much); I swear, she could read the questions that were floating through my mind. What she didn't know, however, was that in that very moment, she was answering the prayers I had been praying for weeks. After longing for a sign, a clue as to what God's plan for me entailed, she made everything clear with her raw, simple honesty. I could not tell this child goodbye; my time here had not yet come to an end.

So unexpectedly, I left San Jose with a sense of peace. I was going home. I was going to see my people; I was going to recharge my spirit; I was going to soak up every moment of comfort and familiarity. But the peace came from the knowledge that soon I would be back. 

Walking down the hallway of the Nashville airport was like déjà vous. My mind was flooded with the numerous times I had made this walk before - returning from Spain, Haiti, the Dominican Republic - anticipating the warm embrace of my father. This time, however, I was pleasantly surprised; not only were my father and step-mother waiting for me, but also Callie and Coop. Immediately my fears of my little man having forgotten me were erased when I saw him trying to wiggle free from Callie's arms so that he could get to his mommy. Finally, I could take a deep breath; there is no better feeling than coming home. And since the moment I arrived in Nashville, I have felt loved to no end. While usually I am overwhelmed by the idea of so many things to do and so many people to see, these past two weeks I have felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. There is no girl in the world who has felt more loved, supported and blessed to have so many irreplaceable people in her extraordinary life. 

Today, my heart is ready to return to Costa Rica to share a fraction of my wealth of blessings with the special community I have discovered there. I feel stronger, I feel lighter, and I feel capable. I am anxious not only to see how God is going to use me in the lives of the people in Costa Rica, but also to see what He is going to teach me through them. 

I can't wait to share the next phase of this journey with you all.