i relearned today that washington dc has the highest HIV prevalence rate in all the U.S. - 1 in 20 people in the district are HIV positive, and in the poorer areas, the rate is similiar to subsaharan africa. um, is that insane? do people realize this? and why aren't we doing something about it? it's much easier and more comfortable to talk about sending aid to AIDS orphans in africa than to look in our own towns and see the awfulness of the disease here. joseph's house can really only meet such a tiny portion of the gigantic need. it's pretty overwhelming.
anyhow. i'd like responses to the rest of this post, if you have any.
i don't want anyone to think that i'm "giving up a year to serve." i don't want to just be young and idealistic. no. this is how i want my life to be. lived in community, lived among the poor, not full of stuff or money, not isolated by race or economic class. this, to me, seems real. Christ came to proclaim good news to the poor, freedom for the captives, healing and hope, not just spiritually but physically as well. i feel the same call on my life. i mean, if what i do to the least of these i truly am doing to Christ, then how can i say i love my savior and not even be present to the least of these?
it is really sad for me to think that i will somehow lose this, that it is just being young and idealistic that somehow i can change the world, and once i get older and maybe start a family, it will fade away. (as i write this, i seem to hear a certain former career counselor in my head... yikes!) this, what i'm doing and seeing and living this year, is how i see the calling of Christ to live in this world. and whether i continue to do what i'm doing at joseph's house, or if i go back to zambia, or something else completely different, i don't want ever to go back to the content ignorance in which i used to live, not really knowing about the suffering around me and not really caring to know, being comfortably surrounded by people who are just like me. this is a call i feel on my life - Christ calls each of us to a different way of service to Him, and i don't want to produce guilt in anyone else. so please, don't feel guilty or accused if you're reading this and feel differently.
but to me, this is real and true. not just now, but for my whole life, if i claim to truly follow Christ with abandon.
but is it even possible? yes, i dare to hope now, but i also worry that the world and my own selfishness are too strong...
Monday, September 24, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
i want to let you take the lead.
i continue to absolutely love my place here. my house, my job, my friends, my God... i am so grateful.
today was a particularly beautiful day, both the weather and the time at "work," if i can even call it that. it was the first day of fall, but warm enough to still be august. the sky was blue, the breeze was light... mmmmm. but more beautiful was seeing my dear friends again today. oh, i love some of them so much. and i think it's ok that i feel love for some more than others, as long as i am actively loving all of them the same. but today was lovely for me and one young man in particular. this lovely young man, about my age, is probably the sickest he's ever been in his whole life of fighting the AIDS which began attacking his body at birth. and he is honest about being depressed, scared, in pain. but today was a good day. he greeted me this morning as i walked in the door with a grin and said, "ready to make banana pancakes?" we made breakfast together for the house, which was lots of fun. then, after doing some cleaning and checking on the other residents, i just sat with him while he was cuddled up in bed, feeling so cold with about 5 blankets on, a fleece, a heating pad on his back, and a winter hat. i just wanted to make him warm, but all i could offer him was my comparably cold hand. he took it though, and we sat like that for quite awhile. that was a beautiful time. later on, i brought him his many pills with his beverage of choice: chilled bananas and cream ensure. he bravely downed all the pills followed by the whole can of ensure, and we sat on the edge of his bed and laughed at his grumbly stomach. soon before i left, he told me he felt ready to take a walk around the block today. so he and one other resident and i took off around the block. we walked slowly with lots of breaks to rest, and it took us about an hour to finish the trip. about in the middle of the block, though, on busy columbia road, we were resting in the shade of a payless shoe store. a store nearby was playing some latin music, and my friend started dancing. then, before i knew it, he pulled me up to dance with him, and we were dancing in the middle of the sidewalk, just dancing.
here is the part that i felt i learned from today, that was kind of metaphoric. at one time, my quite talented dancing partner turned so that our hands were twisted. i assumed i would then need to twist out, so i did so. but in doing so, our hands broke apart, and i realized that this was not in the choreographer's plan. so we started again from the beginning, and this time, when our hands were twisted, i waited until he spun me out, and we never lost contact. that was perhaps the best dance of my life. and in that moment, i realized that i want to let him and all the residents take the lead this year. and sometimes, it's ok to be tangled up and to feel uncertain as to how to get out. but it's important that i don't try to pull away or twist out and in doing so, lose that hand gripped onto mine. i need to just wait until they are ready to twist me out, to let me go, or to keep me close. i want to be able to wait, to sit through awkward silences or hard questions, tears or pain, and not let go of their hands. even when i don't know, and i feel tangled up, i want to let them be my teachers, let them lead me. and in that, there is beauty, beauty that i've seen so much of so far in this place.
so thank you to my dance partner today, who wasn't afraid or ashamed to dance in the middle of a busy street, who wanted me to let him lead me, who shared with me laughter and smiles and holding of hands and joy that blesses me beyond measure.
today was a particularly beautiful day, both the weather and the time at "work," if i can even call it that. it was the first day of fall, but warm enough to still be august. the sky was blue, the breeze was light... mmmmm. but more beautiful was seeing my dear friends again today. oh, i love some of them so much. and i think it's ok that i feel love for some more than others, as long as i am actively loving all of them the same. but today was lovely for me and one young man in particular. this lovely young man, about my age, is probably the sickest he's ever been in his whole life of fighting the AIDS which began attacking his body at birth. and he is honest about being depressed, scared, in pain. but today was a good day. he greeted me this morning as i walked in the door with a grin and said, "ready to make banana pancakes?" we made breakfast together for the house, which was lots of fun. then, after doing some cleaning and checking on the other residents, i just sat with him while he was cuddled up in bed, feeling so cold with about 5 blankets on, a fleece, a heating pad on his back, and a winter hat. i just wanted to make him warm, but all i could offer him was my comparably cold hand. he took it though, and we sat like that for quite awhile. that was a beautiful time. later on, i brought him his many pills with his beverage of choice: chilled bananas and cream ensure. he bravely downed all the pills followed by the whole can of ensure, and we sat on the edge of his bed and laughed at his grumbly stomach. soon before i left, he told me he felt ready to take a walk around the block today. so he and one other resident and i took off around the block. we walked slowly with lots of breaks to rest, and it took us about an hour to finish the trip. about in the middle of the block, though, on busy columbia road, we were resting in the shade of a payless shoe store. a store nearby was playing some latin music, and my friend started dancing. then, before i knew it, he pulled me up to dance with him, and we were dancing in the middle of the sidewalk, just dancing.
here is the part that i felt i learned from today, that was kind of metaphoric. at one time, my quite talented dancing partner turned so that our hands were twisted. i assumed i would then need to twist out, so i did so. but in doing so, our hands broke apart, and i realized that this was not in the choreographer's plan. so we started again from the beginning, and this time, when our hands were twisted, i waited until he spun me out, and we never lost contact. that was perhaps the best dance of my life. and in that moment, i realized that i want to let him and all the residents take the lead this year. and sometimes, it's ok to be tangled up and to feel uncertain as to how to get out. but it's important that i don't try to pull away or twist out and in doing so, lose that hand gripped onto mine. i need to just wait until they are ready to twist me out, to let me go, or to keep me close. i want to be able to wait, to sit through awkward silences or hard questions, tears or pain, and not let go of their hands. even when i don't know, and i feel tangled up, i want to let them be my teachers, let them lead me. and in that, there is beauty, beauty that i've seen so much of so far in this place.
so thank you to my dance partner today, who wasn't afraid or ashamed to dance in the middle of a busy street, who wanted me to let him lead me, who shared with me laughter and smiles and holding of hands and joy that blesses me beyond measure.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
will i?
this song from the musical "rent" is stuck in my head and in my heart. it was made into a movie a year or two ago, and it's full of hard things to watch, but perhaps worthwhile if you can get through it. this song, "will i?" is sung by a group of people who are in a support group for those with and affected by AIDS in the movie, and, well, here it is.
will i lose my dignity?
will someone care?
will i wake tomorrow from this nightmare?
it's just repeated over and over, in a round, and it's beautiful and haunting and makes me want to cry. because i know that so many of those at joseph's house feel this way, and i want to just answer that suffering and pain and say no, you will not lose your dignity. yes, i will care. and i don't know if you'll wake tomorrow or not. but nightmare or not, i want to be there with you.
i went to a conference this weekend on caring for those who are dying, and the speaker gave these definitions for love and compassion:
love is to trust in the inherent loveliness of another person and to speak that loveliness to them.
compassion is snuggling up close next to pain and refusing to leave, waiting for something true to be revealed.
may it be so in my life.
will i lose my dignity?
will someone care?
will i wake tomorrow from this nightmare?
it's just repeated over and over, in a round, and it's beautiful and haunting and makes me want to cry. because i know that so many of those at joseph's house feel this way, and i want to just answer that suffering and pain and say no, you will not lose your dignity. yes, i will care. and i don't know if you'll wake tomorrow or not. but nightmare or not, i want to be there with you.
i went to a conference this weekend on caring for those who are dying, and the speaker gave these definitions for love and compassion:
love is to trust in the inherent loveliness of another person and to speak that loveliness to them.
compassion is snuggling up close next to pain and refusing to leave, waiting for something true to be revealed.
may it be so in my life.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
six years later
tonight, i watched "the ground truth" with my housemates. it's a documentary made about the war in iraq, with mostly interviews from soldiers who have gone to iraq, returned, and turned against the war. the images and stories were sad and horrifying, and the wounds that these men and women live with, not just physical but emotional, are painful even to hear about.
who would have thought we'd be where we are today six years ago? i don't pretend to be incredibly informed about the situation, but i do have one thought that i can't escape. in the movie, one soldier who was dealing with post traumatic stress disorder found himself in jail after a violent interaction with some policemen. he said that his wake-up call was finding himself sitting in jail with a bunch of "dirtbags." now, i know this wasn't a point of the movie at all, but to me, this is poignant:
we need to start viewing each other as human beings with dignity and deserving of respect. how can we hope that a soldier would respect the people of iraq when he doesn't even have any respect for his fellow americans in prison? we need respect and love! whether it's the businessman or the homeless man i pass on the street, both are worthy of the same respect and care. whether it's a dear woman at my work or a child in africa, both dying of AIDS, both are precious and worthy of care, love, and concern. whether it's my fellow americans who are losing their lives in iraq, or it's the iraqi soldiers losing their lives, both lives are costly losses. all human life is valuable. the pro-life conversation needs to get beyond abortion and extend to the death penalty, to treatment of illegal aliens, to war and conflict.
and particularly as christians, we, myself included, need a wake-up call. when Jesus told us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, have we listened? how can retaliating in violence ever be love? how can we love the iraqi people when we're killing them? how can we love the terrorists? gosh, i know that's radical, but that's what Jesus call is - a radical call to a counter-cultural life. so are we, our comfortable, patriotic, american christian selves, are we following our radical Savior? if not, we (i!) need to reexamine if we're serving a man-made version of god, or the true and living God as seen in the life of Jesus.
p.s. an interesting twist on the plight of some 9/11 rescue workers can be seen in michael moore's newest movie, "sicko." i would recommend checking it out; it's an interesting watch and not too political. :-) am i turning into a liberal hippie?? :-) perhaps... i'd love your thoughts, too!
who would have thought we'd be where we are today six years ago? i don't pretend to be incredibly informed about the situation, but i do have one thought that i can't escape. in the movie, one soldier who was dealing with post traumatic stress disorder found himself in jail after a violent interaction with some policemen. he said that his wake-up call was finding himself sitting in jail with a bunch of "dirtbags." now, i know this wasn't a point of the movie at all, but to me, this is poignant:
we need to start viewing each other as human beings with dignity and deserving of respect. how can we hope that a soldier would respect the people of iraq when he doesn't even have any respect for his fellow americans in prison? we need respect and love! whether it's the businessman or the homeless man i pass on the street, both are worthy of the same respect and care. whether it's a dear woman at my work or a child in africa, both dying of AIDS, both are precious and worthy of care, love, and concern. whether it's my fellow americans who are losing their lives in iraq, or it's the iraqi soldiers losing their lives, both lives are costly losses. all human life is valuable. the pro-life conversation needs to get beyond abortion and extend to the death penalty, to treatment of illegal aliens, to war and conflict.
and particularly as christians, we, myself included, need a wake-up call. when Jesus told us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, have we listened? how can retaliating in violence ever be love? how can we love the iraqi people when we're killing them? how can we love the terrorists? gosh, i know that's radical, but that's what Jesus call is - a radical call to a counter-cultural life. so are we, our comfortable, patriotic, american christian selves, are we following our radical Savior? if not, we (i!) need to reexamine if we're serving a man-made version of god, or the true and living God as seen in the life of Jesus.
p.s. an interesting twist on the plight of some 9/11 rescue workers can be seen in michael moore's newest movie, "sicko." i would recommend checking it out; it's an interesting watch and not too political. :-) am i turning into a liberal hippie?? :-) perhaps... i'd love your thoughts, too!
Thursday, September 6, 2007
precious pedicures.
so, i have now completed three days at my new "job". my first day was incredibly overwhelming, as joseph's house was swamped with people, full of hustle and bustle, and i felt insecure, unhelpful, and overall, in the way. there was a memorial service held for one of the residents who passed away last week, and it was a pretty intense way to start the job, i guess. but since then, it has been incredible.
so, a typical day for me? so far, it seems to be as follows: i arrive around 9 for a nice hot breakfast with the other staff and residents who are able to come to the table. after eating, we take breakfast to those in the house who are bed-bound. some of them who are very sick, we feed them; others can feed themselves. i've gotten to feed several of the ladies breakfast the past two days, and i love that. then, i probably do some dishes and some loads of laundry, maybe wash a floor or something. then, we may have a staff meeting which is full of reflection and sharing time, both about ourselves and the residents, emotionally, spiritually, and physically. i'll have a conversation with one of the men who is my spanish "profesor," trying to help me brush up my awful high school spanish with his limited english. then we'll eat lunch and bring lunch and meds to those in the house. after that, i may help give bed baths and change sheets, clothes, and diapers for those who are unable to get up. with so much tenderness, we rotate the patients in bed every few hours so that they don't develop bed sores from lost circulation. today, i got to gave one of the ladies a pedicure and manicure, complete with salve massage, and we both loved that. gosh, those moments are precious! and to be able to serve her in that way and just tell her she's so beautiful, and see her smile... it's incredible. then i sat with another lady who will probably die either today or tomorrow. i just sat with her. there was nothing i could say, other than "hi, it's katy, and i'm just going to sit with you. can i wet your lips or wipe your face?" and do those things for her warning her before hand because she is blind. then i just sit, holding her hand, stroking her hair. she can't move or talk; her breathing is a labor in itself. but i love sitting with her and trying to love on her with my hands, my thoughts, my prayers. seeing our common humanity, reflecting on her life that i know so little about, asking for peace and comfort for her and her family. it's actually beautiful, sitting there with her.
so, i am loving it. loving it so much. sorry that i can't say names because of confidentiality, but these people are already becoming precious to me. i know it will be hard losing so many of them this year. but i feel so blessed to be there. i told my dying friend today that it was such a gift, a present to me to be able to just sit there with her. how am i so blessed, to be able to share in those sacred moments with her?
so, a typical day for me? so far, it seems to be as follows: i arrive around 9 for a nice hot breakfast with the other staff and residents who are able to come to the table. after eating, we take breakfast to those in the house who are bed-bound. some of them who are very sick, we feed them; others can feed themselves. i've gotten to feed several of the ladies breakfast the past two days, and i love that. then, i probably do some dishes and some loads of laundry, maybe wash a floor or something. then, we may have a staff meeting which is full of reflection and sharing time, both about ourselves and the residents, emotionally, spiritually, and physically. i'll have a conversation with one of the men who is my spanish "profesor," trying to help me brush up my awful high school spanish with his limited english. then we'll eat lunch and bring lunch and meds to those in the house. after that, i may help give bed baths and change sheets, clothes, and diapers for those who are unable to get up. with so much tenderness, we rotate the patients in bed every few hours so that they don't develop bed sores from lost circulation. today, i got to gave one of the ladies a pedicure and manicure, complete with salve massage, and we both loved that. gosh, those moments are precious! and to be able to serve her in that way and just tell her she's so beautiful, and see her smile... it's incredible. then i sat with another lady who will probably die either today or tomorrow. i just sat with her. there was nothing i could say, other than "hi, it's katy, and i'm just going to sit with you. can i wet your lips or wipe your face?" and do those things for her warning her before hand because she is blind. then i just sit, holding her hand, stroking her hair. she can't move or talk; her breathing is a labor in itself. but i love sitting with her and trying to love on her with my hands, my thoughts, my prayers. seeing our common humanity, reflecting on her life that i know so little about, asking for peace and comfort for her and her family. it's actually beautiful, sitting there with her.
so, i am loving it. loving it so much. sorry that i can't say names because of confidentiality, but these people are already becoming precious to me. i know it will be hard losing so many of them this year. but i feel so blessed to be there. i told my dying friend today that it was such a gift, a present to me to be able to just sit there with her. how am i so blessed, to be able to share in those sacred moments with her?
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