My Worlds Collide

When I am away, I often feel like I lead a double life. I have this life at home that I miss dearly. My people, my places, my past and the home that I will return to... and then I have this life here. And one of the most beautiful, but weirdest parts about my life here is that no one at home really knows it. My people, in reality, have no idea what my life has looked like for the past six months. There is something very refreshing about this. I can go away and be whoever I want to be, independent from where I come from, but all the same, it is terrifying that the people who mean most to me can't picture the world I am currently living in. People try... they read my blog, stay in touch, ask questions, and listen to my stories, but this is a world you can't believe until you see it. This is a world that has changed my life forever, shaken up everything I know to be true, and altered my view of the universe.

How wonderful it was to have these two worlds collide in the tiniest bit for a few days this last week.

 

Though I missed the rest of the family being here... having Christina here was one of the most beautiful parts of my experience in Costa Rica yet. Getting to walk through the streets of the slums I have come to know and love so well, with my sister, the woman I admire and respect more than anything in this world, was a dream come true. Everyone loved her just as I expected them to. Going to the home of Nicole, a young girl who is helping her family overcome hunger, crack addiction, domestic violence and a state of poverty unlike any I have ever seen, and translating for she and Christina both as they shared their stories, their strength and their love with one another was one of the most powerful moments I have ever experienced. And watching as tears poured from Nicole's mother's eyes, overcome by the ounce of hope that she found in Christina's story. Hope for she and her family, as well as hope for this world.

How special it was to have my sister by my side, spreading love in this dark, broken place with me.

How special it was to have her meet my Tico family... the people who have loved and taken care of me so well for the past 6 months...

And special doesn't even begin to describe how it felt to have her accompany me as I took my six little girls to the beach; the first time five of the six of them had ever seen the ocean.

When people think of Costa Rica, the first thing they think of is beautiful vacation beaches, rain forests, and more birds and animals than we could ever imagine. The last thing we think of are the little girls who have lived here since birth, yet who have never left the slums they call home, much less imagined traveling to the beach. We don't think of the teenage mothers who go days without eating, giving all of their nutrients to the babies they're breast-feeding;
the little girls whose eyes grew large and happy as we told them they could eat as much as they wanted for breakfast, and who ate plates of food as if they'd never eaten before; the little girls who have been forced to grow up way too quickly, nevertheless spent hours on end crashing into the waves of the ocean, burying themselves in the sand, and enjoying a once-in-a-liftime chance to be happy, carefree and innocent;
little girls who have seen more violence, darkness and pain than you or I could ever imagine, yet are still so full of joy and just craving love.

 

 

 

Every time I am with these six girls, they teach me something new... from Joselin, proving that a teenage girl can overcome having no positive influences in her life, and find it in her own heart and soul to be the one of the most incredible, loving mothers I have ever seen; or Carolina, a girl who was closed off, angry, full of hate when I met her six months ago, and who with love, support, and knowing that people believe in her has blossomed into one of the most sensitive, caring, thoughtful girls I know. Six young girls who are all so very different, and who think I hung the moon, have showed me more about endurance, perserverance and strength than anyone ever has. And it was an honor to share a day with these six beautiful angels and my sister, as well. It was one of the most meaningful days I have yet to live.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.
-Proverbs 3:5-6

How to Survive

Once upon a time there was an island where all emotions and human sentiments lived. Sharing the island was Fear, Wisom, Love, Worry, Envy, Hate... They were all there. Despite the occasional arguments, life on the island was tranquil, and even predictable. Sometimes the routine put Boredom to sleep, or Impulse created some sort of scandal, but more often than not Convience and Perserverance managed to calm Discontent.

One day, unexpected to all, Wisom called a mandatory meeting. When Distraction and Laziness finally arrived, all were present and Wisdom began, "I have bad news for all of you. The island is sinking."

"No!! How is that possible?!? We have always lived here." They all exclaimed in unison.

So Knowledge repeated, "The island is sinking."

"But it can't be...Maybe you're wrong."

"Knowledge is never wrong," responded Conscience, accepting the truth. "If he says the island is sinking, then the island is sinking."

"But what are we going to do?!" Asked the rest.

"Of course every one of you can do as you please," Knowledge began, "But I suggest that you all find a way to leave the island... Build a ship, a boat, a raft, or anything else that allows you to go... Because he who stays on the island will disappear with her."

"Can you help us?" They asked Knowledge, trusting his abilities.

"No," he said, "Foresight and I have built a plane and as soon as this meeting is over, we are going to fly to the closest island." And with that, Knowledge boarded the plan with Foresight - as well as Fear who was hiding in the stowaway cabin - and together they left the island.

Immediately, all of the emotions then began to build rafts, vessels, sailboats... All... Except for Love. Love, who was too attached to everything on the island said, "Leave this island...after all this time together!? How could I leave this lovely tree, for example? We have shared so much!"

So while all the other emotions were constructing that which would carry them away from this island, Love climbed every tree, smelled every rose, walked down the beach and rolled in the sand as he'd always loved to do. He touched every rock and ran his hand down every branch... 

When he reached his favorite spot on the beach, exactly where the sun goes down, with the naivety of a lover he said, "Maybe the island will sink for a moment, and then resurface... Why not?" And so he stayed there sitting, for days and days, watching the shoreline closely, trying to determine whether or not the reversal of the island's descent was reversable. 

With every moment the island sunk a bit more, nevertheless, Love couldn't think about leaving because it was entirely too painful. All he could do was cry. Yet as just as he was mourning for all that he was losing, it occurred to him that the island was very big no although it would continue to sink, he could always find safety in the highest point. Anything was better than having to leave. Therefore once more, he touched every rock on the shore, felt the sand between his fingerst, and walked along the water on the tiny beach that was once so large.

And every day the island sunk a little bit more. Every day, Love found refuge in a smaller piece of the island. "After all we have been through together..." He exclaimed to the island, when at last only a small piece of firm ground remained - the rest had been covered completely by water.

And it was in that moment that Love realized that the island really was going to sink. He finally understood that if he didnt leave the island, Love would disappear forever from the face of the earth. So he walked down the flooded paths, hopping over enormous puddles, and made his was to the harbor. There was no longer a possibility to make an exit like all the others; he had lost too much time denying that which he was losing and crying for that which was disappearing, bit by bit, right before his eyes. With his fellow emotions still in sight, he had the hope that he could explain his situation to one of the, and that they would understand and take Love with them. 

Intently watching the ocean, he saw Greed in his vessel and began to make signals to him. risk approach the Harbor.

"Greed, you who have such a large vessel, could you take me to the neighboring island? I have suffered so much for the disappearance of this island that I couldn't build a boat."

 

And Greed answered him, "I am so weighed down by money, jewels, and precious rocks that I don't have room for you. I am sorry," and continued his journey forward without looking back.

 

Love remained watching and saw that Vanity was coming in a beautiful boat full of decorations, trimmings, marbles, and flowers of every color. It was very attractive. Love craned a bit and yelled, "Vanity, Vanity, take my with you!!!" Vanity looked at Love and said, "I'd love to take you, but you look awful, so dirty and unkempt... Sorry, but you would lessen the quality of my boat..." And he left. 

 

And so Love asked for help from every one of the emotions.... Constancy, Jealousy, Sensuality, Indignation and even Hate. And when he thought that no one else would pass, he saw a tiny boat approaching... The last one... It was Sadness.

 

"Sadness, sister," he said, "You know me so well, you won't abandon me here... You are so sensitive like me, will you take me with you?" And Sadness answered, "I would take you, I am sure of it, but I am sooooo sad... That I prefer to be alone," and without saying anything else, he left. 

 

Love, poor thing, realized that for having been so attached to these things that he loved so much, the island was going to sink in the ocean until it disappeared. So he sat on the last piece of the island, waiting for the end... When all of a sudden he heard someone whisper, "psst...psssttt...." It was a strange old man who was calling him from a small rowboat. Surprised, Love answered, "Who?? Me!?!" Raising his hand to his chest. "Yes, yes," said the man, "You... Come with me. Board my boat and row with me. Ill rescue you." Love looked at him, dying to explain, "What happened was that.... "I understand..." Said the old man without allowing him to finish. Love boarded the board and together they began to row themselves to the next island.

 

It wasn't long before they watched as the last piece of the beloved island went under and the island disappeared forever. "There will never be another island like that one," whispered Love, hoping the old man would contradict him and give him some hope. "No," the old man said, "Like that one, never."

 

When they arrived to the neighboring island, Love realized that he was still alive... He finally realized that he was going to survive.

 

As he turned around to thank the old man, he saw that without saying a word, the man had mysteriously disappeared. So Love, very intrigued went to search for Wisdom, so that he could ask him, "How is it possible? I didn't know him and he saved me... All the rest of you left me, but he helped me.... He saved me and I don't even know his name."

 

Wisdom looked at him with his large eyes and said, "He is the only one who is capable of helping Love survive. When the pain of a loss made you think it was impossible to go on... When you seemed to have absolutely nothing left... The one who saved you, and will always save you, Love, is Time."

Giving

The emotions that have resulted from my work here the past week have been too immense to express through words, thus I have avoided expressing myself at all, however, after a beautiful morning in LC this morning, I am feeling reinspired in all walks of life.

My weekend was marked by the harsh reality that two of my sweet girls, Carolina and Caterin live, as I spent Friday night, as well as Saturday with them. Friday night was a surprise for two little girls who had never been to a mall in their lives when we took them to Lincoln Plaza - the closest thing to the US in CR - to buy dresses for the party we're throwing for Carolina's fifteenth birthday. I never imagined that I would watch two teenage girls stand frozen in Forever 21 and then turn to ask me, "What do we do now?" And as I struggled through finding dresses for them, and then shoes the next day, I discovered more about their lives than I was prepared to handle. 

Their mother, Dona Marisól, is 32 and has 8 children, from ages 17 to 6 weeks. They live in a two bedroom structure that is equally as unsafe as the streets outside, with an irresponsible father who has come home two weeks straight without money as a result of his addiction to video games. For that reason, when they showed up Saturday afternoon, Carolina was in tears telling me that she left her 6 year old little sister at home crying due to hunger, but there was no food in the house and no money to buy food. Caterin gets sick every time she eats and they can't afford to go to the doctor, Carolina is cutting herself again, and the baby isn't gaining any weight... And there is very little that I can do. When their mother asked me for money to buy food, the word "no" simply was not an option. Yet when I gave her $40 and she was ungrateful, expecting more, I knew exactly why I was going to receive the consequences that I received when Sergio found out I had given them money.

How unbelievable difficult it is for me to consider saying no to a family with starving children, when my pockets are practically overflowing. But Sergio firmly told me that he was trying to teach these people that asking for money is not the answer to their problems, and that I was reinforcing their belief that he's wrong. Instead, I am supposed to be helping them help themselves. I am supposed to be guiding these women and girls to find a way to strengthen their own hearts, heal their own wounds, and find new, healthier paths to take. And that's why I am here, to show these girls what it feels like to truly be loved, believed in and cared about... But how do you tell a hungry child no? Or a desperate mother with 8 mouths to feed? I just couldn't. 

We walked into Los Cuadros today only to find more terror, when we were told the reason for the elementary school that half our kids go to, and that is located right across the street from the building in which we work being closed. Yesterday, a gang of narcotraffickers held up the school while the children were in class. One of the guy's children goes to the school and had a problem with a teacher, and thus he and several others stood outside the school, shooting at the building with pistols, and threatening to kill every last one of the teachers. The children were escorted out by the police; thank God no one was hurt. The police, probably a little bit afraid themselves, were too worried about the aftermath of trying to arrest them, thus they decided just to shut down the school temporarily, hoping the problem would resolve itself. 

But then finally, a little hope and inspiration shone through when we went to visit Nicole. Now there was nothing physically beatiful about out time with her seeing as she lives in one of the worst parts of Los Cuadros in a one bedroom home with 7 siblings, her mother and her abusive father. But what was beautiful was the strength and faith that she had as she shared her story with us. She is a 21 year old girl who started using crack at age 12, however, decided 4 months ago that she wasn't destined for the life of suffering that was all she'd ever known, and that she wanted something better. Thus she quit, cold turkey, applied for a scholarship and went back to school. Today, she continues to live in that house, with three siblings still using, and dealers across the street, yet she is clean and she is determined. She told us today, "I am hungry, I am sad, and my life has been nothing but suffering, but I have seen God work miracles and I know He is working in my life, too. You just wait and see... God is going to use me for something good, and I'm going to share my story with the world."

When we left her house, Sergio and I went to the community center because he had some questions for me. He told me that to him, this world was normal. He told me that though every story hits him, and his heart will never be numb to the sadness and despair that each, individual family feels, nothing here shocks him. Thus, he wanted to ask me how I was processing my experience here, what it was doing in my soul, and if I believed that our work was effective. The truth is, everyday I walk into Los Cuadros changes my life. Listening to Joselin excitedly share the news of her engagement, and feeling the nausea rise into my throat as I see her future potentially slipping away; going to visit a young mother and her 2 week old twin girls, and giving her clothing because all she has is one individual outfit for each child, thus they're often just wrapped in blankets; sitting in the kitchen with a mother and child, and hearing them talk about dropping to the ground the night before to dogde the potential lost bullets from the gunshots outside their door; waiting for the bus and having a homeless probably eight year old little boy, who is dirty, stinky, and visibly traumatized ask me if I can please buy him an empanada; and walking alongside someone who tells me that he his prepared to give his life for me if he needs to....and knowing in my heart that he truly means it... I will think about this place and these people every day for the rest of my life.

 

Dios Guía Mi Camino

Tuesday, Thursday and Friday mornings consist of "caminatas," which are more or less neighborhood walks, where Sergio and I go visit with the mothers and children in Los Cuadros. Leaving the homes, I am often in shock, convinced that there's no way I could see or hear anything worse than what is just experienced. Life's full of fear, pain, and sorrow. Home after home of mothers saying they're absolutely exhausted, pregnant teenage girls, and walls that don't even keep out the rain, much less the danger of this environment. I often ask Sergio how he chooses where we walk, or who we visit. There are so many families in need of simply someone who is willing to listen, how does he choose? Time and time again, he has told me that he says a prayer in the morning when he wakes up, asking God to lead him to the homes of the people who are in most desperate need. He allows God to guide his journey, and simply walks in the direction in which his heart is pointing. Today, yet again, I saw God work directly through Sergio as we stumbled along the path of three different homes where the mothers were hopeless; it was as if they had been asking God for some light, and God was answering their prayers through Sergio. I have never met a man so gifted.

The first house we stopped at wasn't even planned, but as we walked past, and it registered in Sergio's mind that he had visitied with this mother a few times before, he began to knock on her door. She opened immediately, as if she knew we were coming, and there were already tears in her eyes. She invited us to sit down on the couch, and then was mortified as I sat in the spot where her child had just had an accident. I told her not to worry, Sergio asked her what was going on, and she pointed to a mirror on the wall behind her with a bullet hole straight through it. I guess she could tell from the puzzled look on my face that I didn't understand, thus she led me into her bedroom, and showed me the bedroom through which the bullet had entered just last night, waking them at 3:00 in then morning. It went through her window, through her bedroom wall and the mirror on the other side, through her child's bedroom door and stuck into the wall right beside his bed. They had been awake and terrified ever since; she was still shaking. There were no words that neither Sergio nor myself could say to what this mother was feeling away, as she told us that her home was located in the war zone, between two battling gangs, and that she was out of work, hadn't eaten in days, and couldn't even dream of relocating. I looked over and noticed that her baby was eating mayonnaise out of a bowl because that was all she could offer him, and I wanted to burst into tears. We sat with this woman for about an hour as she spoke to us about the danger, her failing marriage and her recent thoughts of suicide. The hardest part was knowing that the only thing would could provide this woman was our love and prayers.

A bit overwhelmed, we  continued our walk, when suddenly Sergio began knocking on yet another unplanned gate. A young girl stuck her head out the window and told us her mother wasn't home, but told her two little brothers to let us in the gate and onto the porch. We entered and Sergio asked her where her mother was, she replied, "At work." He asked her why she was home alone with the boys and not at school, and she told us she wasn't going to school anymore because she had to take care of her little brothers because they couldn't afford child care. "Did you want to stop going to school?" Sergio asked her, and immediately tears began to well in her eyes as this ten year old little girl told us she wanted to go to school so badly, but her mother wouldn't let her. Thus she and her two brothers are at home, alone, in the house all day everyday as their mother works. As we left I became angry with this child's mother, "How could she do that to her child?" I asked Sergio. When he looked at me and just smiled, I knew exactly what he was trying to tell me without saying a word, "Who are you to judge this woman, Caroline. You have absolutely no idea what her life looks like." And my heart melted; I really don't have any idea.

And then finally, we made it to the house we had intended to go to all along. One of the "ranches" right down the hill from the home of the biggest drug dealers in the area; the ones who are often seen shooting shot guns into the sky from their roof. We visit this house very often, because though the mother is always telling us how much love there is in her home, her five girls all wear a face of sadness unlike any that I have ever seen. Yesterday, when we arrived, we were greeted with coffee and homemade "Tres Leches" cake. For some unknown reason, this mother was especially open and willing to share yesterday, therefore when Sergio asked her what her life was like as a child, stories began to spill. She told us that she was always the rejected child growing up, therefore when she found a boyfriend at age 14, she moved into a "home" with him. When they were 16, they got married and had their first child; by age 26, they had five daughters. Today, their daughters range from age 12 to 22... The 22 year old has a four year old son, and the 19 year old has a 1 year old daughter. They all live in this home made of scrap metal together. There are rats, the walls don't keep out the water, and there is hardly room, much less food for them all. I looked upon this brave woman with disbelief; I am constantly amazed by what some people are capable of enduring. And the most unbelievable part about it is her faith despite all of her suffering. As she looks upon her sad, skinny, yet gorgeous girls, she speaks of God, and His plan for she and her family, and how grateful she is for all the blessings He has given her. 

It is in these places that I feel closer to God than ever, which is often troubling. Why is it then when I am with people who are fighting some of the worst violence and poverty that I feel God's presence so strongly? Maybe it is because I can feel Him working through me as I visit these homes. Maybe it is because the only thing some of these families have is there faith, and therefore it is infinitely strong. I don't know the answer, really, all I know is that God's presence here is undeniable.

Me

I have discovered that there are two faces of loneliness: there is the loneliness that is so dark, so sad, and so very scary. The loneliness that makes the days pass long and slow; the loneliness that makes us feel without purpose; the loneliness that leaves us completely empty. 

Over the past few months, however, I have become very close with a different kind of loneliness; a loneliness that I not only find beautiful, but also beneficial. The days are still long and slow, and sometimes there's the slightest taste of sadness, but then there's also this overwhelming sense of something bright. This sense of hope that comes from at last being away from the constant movement, pressure, and expectations of home, and finally being able to be alone with my thoughts; at last getting the chance to reflect on what I have seen, what I am seeing, and how I want all these pieces of my life to shape me into the woman I am becoming - the woman I want to be. It's kind of funny, because I have run from the the debilitating loneliness that makes us feel as if we're drowning for a long time, but today I am basking this loneliness that I can anticipate myself craving one day.

It is in this sweet loneliness that I am learning exactly what my priorities, and my values are, and what fills my heart the most. 

I was talking to my friend, Manny, the other day, about how amazing it is that some of the deepest, closest relationships i have made are when I am away from home, and outside of my comfort zone? This is something that has scared me for years, because my heart is truly at home with my family. It is something that has confused me, because I feel more known and understood at times, by people who I have only known for weeks, perhaps months away from home, than I do some of the people I've known my whole life. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that when I am "away," my priorities are different. There is no baggage, very little responsibility, and I am nothing other than me. I am not sure what it is about home, but when I get back there, it is so easy to fall back into the idea that's what's important is being dressed in the cutest clothes, working out excessively, getting that new car, making the best grades at the most prestigious school, being liked and accepted by everyone I meet; being perfect. When I'm away, however, and my days consist of sharing God's love with people who need it more than we could ever imagine, life seems so much simpler. My heart is so much lighter, more open, and more pure. My soul is so much more content, comfortable, and full. I am 100% me, the good and the bad, doing little other than what I believe I was put on this earth to do: give love. Thus the people I meet, meet me when I am my best, most true, most passionate self, and more often than not, they not only understand my passion, but also share my passion. They don't get to know Caroline the good student, Caroline the runner, Caroline that is constantly running around with a jam packed schedule... The Caroline beneath all the expectations, and pressures that I always seem to put on myself... They get to know the real, true Caroline.

Perhaps that's why it's always so gut wrenching to say good bye to Romano, Robin, my friends from Spain, Manny... Because they the part of me that I love the most, that I am most proud of, that I believe is the best version of myself. 

My hope, is that someday soon, I can discover whatever it is I need to make me capable of being this person ALWAYS... Not just when I'm away. 

I want to be the girl who is NEVER too busy to love.

The girl who is a friend, family member, or lover not when it is convenient,

But always, before I am ANYTHING else.

The girl who makes every person in my path feel loved, important, worthy and capable.

The girl who always takes care of herself.

The girl who is wise, confident, light hearted and thoughtful.

The girl who longs to know a person's story, and never, ever judges.

The girl who allows herself to truly be seen.

The girl who is giving and never selfish or too proud.

The girl whose top priority is to give love.

La Vida es un Sueño

Life is a dream.

I have been walking through my days this past week or so in a fog; present when I have needed to be present, but the rest of the time looking down on my life as if it was some weird movie. One of those strangely beautiful movies where there are about five different stories all going on simultaneously and somehow, through one character, they're all connected. I am that character. That person wandering from scene to scene, constantly in awe of the wonder, the horror, and the irony that makes up this world. Half of the time I am convinced that this chapter of my life isn't real, I'm just dreaming, and pretty soon I am going to have to wake up.

I was walking in the rain with Sergio on Friday, on the way to the bus after a long afternoon in Los Cuadros. He could tell something wasn't right with me; he had been asking me all afternoon, "¿Qué tienes?" (What's wrong?) I just kept telling him, "podemos hablar más tarde." (We can talk later). Then we got on the bus, stuck in the much dreaded rush hour traffic, and I couldn't hold it in any longer, "Manny is leaving on Friday, and I'm just really really sad." 

For those of you who don't know who Manny is, he is another one of the angels with whom I have crossed paths in Costa Rica. For the past four months, he has been one of the only constants throughout my journey. A kind, gentle, wise man from Mexico, who has been living in San Diego since he was twelve, then has been out of the country working for Maximo in both Peru and Costa Rica for the past year. He is one of the ones who immediately made me feel secure, like I had someone I could count on, like I had something safe and familiar in this place where everything is foreign and unknown. Now, however, he has become yet another one of the magnificent people who I have met, then had to say goodbye to, as he unexpectedly has had to go home. This is fine, this is life, however, it is proving to be one of the most difficult elements of my time away. There won't just be sad goodbyes on the last day...but rather the sad goodbyes are constantly popping up out of nowhere, knocking the breath out of me, and leaving me to start the search for new people, yet again. For a girl whose best friends are her family, and the people she's known all her life, the girl who went to elementary school, middle school, high school and college in the same town, the girl who pours her whole heart into all relationships, this is getting pretty draining.

But as I talked to Sergio about my sadness, he of course, made me feel worse and better all at the same time. First he told me that what I was feeling then is what he is going to feel when I leave. He told me he wakes up every morning and remembers that I am going to leave, and asks God to please give him the strength to enjoy today with me, rather than be anxious about the future. He told me that when I got here in May, when we first met, he was about to quit - not only his job, but also his life, his faith, his everything. He felt like he was walking alone, giving his life, literally, working for a foundation where the leaders won't even do what he is doing, and walking in a community that is so dark that he was even losing hope. But then he told me that he met me. This rich, white girl who was actually excited and passionate not only about taking pictures with the cute children when they're clean and made up, but also about putting her own life in danger in order to go in the homes, love on the families, pray with the mothers, and cry with the grandmothers. He told me that when his battery was nearly dead, I gave him a new sense of purpose, hope, and determination. The crazy part is that I feel the exact same way about him.

I don't think I merit the words that Sergio pours over me; I believe he deserves all the credit. But what I can believe is that for some reason God brought us together, and I think we make an incredible team. A team who holds a 17 year old girl's baby, as she soaks up the rain water that is pouring through the walls of her poorly built shack, trying to ignore the gun shots outside. A team who can approach a group of crack dealers, with shotguns down their pant legs, and receive smiles and gratitude from them as we offer them, and their children lollipops. A team who can talk to those who are dangerous without fear, acknowledging that they, too, are people and are in need of love. A team who can bring together three older women who have no faith in anyone outside the walls of their home, foster amongst them a three hour conversation, where they support, love and understand one another... and perhaps even create through them a group of positive leaders for their community. A team who can pull together a group of volunteers who are willing to dig through trash and sewage in order to level the hill beside a woman's home so that she can add a room for her sister who is dying of a brain tumor. A team who can potentially shatter the tough, rebellious, hateful outer shell of Carolina's heart, and reach the tender, innocent soul deep inside. A team who was brought together to not only shine light into the lives of the sad families in Los Cuadros, but also into the one another's lives, offering a glimpse of beauty and goodness in a world that can often be so evil and scary. A team who will soon go down separate paths, however, who will always be together, lifting one another up in spirit. 

I get off the bus, drenched and exhausted from a day of walking from one draining situation to the next, heavy with the sadness of having to say goodbye, and maybe even wondering a little bit why I put myself in the situations that I do...and then I feel a sense of peace come over me. A sense of peace that gives me the courage to continue forward. A sense of peace that comes from the only constant in this world. A sense of peace that comes from knowing that God is with me, guiding me, and loving me every step of the way. A sense of peace that comes from knowing that the reason I am here, giving until I have nothing left, is because I hope that through my actions, my love, my consistency, someone in this community can see and know God. 

So when I stop, and really think about it, it really is all kind of like a dream. I have no control. I have no say. All I can do is the best I can to use what God has given me to be the person He created me to be, and walk the path He has selected for me. When you think about it like that, it takes away a lot of the pressure. When you think about it like that, it offers a lot of peace.

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