washington post article.

for any of you who didn't yet see the article, photos, and sound clips from the washington post on joseph's house, which is really quite beautiful, the link to the photos is here, from which you can see the article and the sound clips.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/gallery/2008/11/30/GA2008113002282.html?hpid=multimedia1&hpv=local

and the pendulum swings...

as i should have know and somewhat expected, things at joseph's house have once again swung in the opposite direction. remember when a month or so ago, i was struggling being in the house because it felt so hard to live with so many people who were too "healthy" (meaning independent despite their precarious physical states), dealing with the hard issues of living together like conflict, trust, addictions, relationships, and all that human stuff? as much as some of those factors remain, the feeling of the house has once again shifted, and four residents have passed away in the past few weeks, as well as one in the hospital who just today flatlined and is on life support in the ICU. it's interesting how there always seems to be more death around the holiday season... and sad. something about the holidays lends itself to an increase of emotions, whether it's love (as seems to be evident in the fact that everywhere i go, there are couples making out! including at the kennedy center during a performance of handel's messiah. i mean, really??) or sadness. anyhow, it's been hard actually after being so used to the residents who had been here for a while to have things shifting and changing, and to once again be around so much death and sadness. it especially affects the community when those who have been here for a long time pass away, because the residents both acutely miss their best friends and see their own mortality in the passing of their friends. it's amazing, though, the kinds of relationships that the residents have with one another, relationships full of love and friendship unlike they've perhaps ever experienced before. i find myself without tears when i hear about someone passing away, but to see the other residents around his or her body, speaking words of sorrow or anger or tenderness, gently helping us wash the body, kissing the face or the hands of their friend, the tears seem to flow freely. and today, with my friend in the hospital dying, being revived but now on life support, i am once again overwhelmed with the shock and finiteness of time, of opportunity, of chances to love and care. life is happening now! i want and need to be more present to each person i'm with in each moment...

the pendulum swing also seems an appropriate metaphor in my own life. last year, i felt as though i had tireless energy and time to give to this house, this place, these people. but this year, especially recently, i've felt much more tired and prone to want to withdraw, be alone in my room, spend time away from the house than i did last year. it's been hard to figure out, especially because it's not as though i'm spending more technical hours working. but it was helpful to have a friend suggest to me that perhaps the pendulum has swung back in my own life, that the overextension of last year is only now showing some signs of burnout, and i need to listen to them in order to try to find more equilibrium in the future. another season, another state of being to adjust to. so here i am, trying to have grace with myself and allow myself the space i need, but also to live fully and presently into each moment and relationship.

part of the reason i've been doing some more reflecting lately about the past year is that as the new year approaches, which always lends itself to self-reflection, so too approaches (this sunday!) the year anniversary of my and david's first date! (which, funny enough, i didn't realize was actually a date until afterwards, when i really hoped it was one!) it's been quite a year of growing and learning in that relationship too, but i am incredibly grateful for him and for the ways in which i've learned more about myself, the world, and love through and with him.

so in all things, through all seasons, through the up and down of the pendulum swing, i still say, "thanks be to God."

updates.

just in case anyone is curious about what's going on for me right now...

my back is continuing to heal from my little biking accident a few months ago now. it's been quite the learning process, and pretty frustratingly slow, but i do feel much better and got back on my bike last week to ride to church. i still am amazed at how much i'm learning about taking my own physical health for granted, even living in a hospice, and about being able to ask for help. thank you all for your prayers, cards, packages (grams!), and love.

joseph's house is still keeping on. i've been working some more overnight shifts lately, which is a little hard for me but also can be a really nice time to connect with people in the house more one on one when everyone else is gone and things have quieted down. it's especially nice tonight after having been gone for a few days back to PA for thanksgiving. the feeling of walking up these steps and through these doors and have my friends here say, "we missed you!" and "it's good to have you back," and "welcome home!" it's beautiful. i continue to be grateful for this place of so much learning. and, i'll probably put a link to it on here when it comes out, but look for a big article about joseph's house in the washington post on tuesday december 2nd.

time back in pa for thanksgiving was really nice - it's always good to see family and friends, especially when i don't have school work looming over my head the whole time. and it was really nice to share all of that with david. i'm amazed at how, thoughout my life, i have been blessed with so many beautiful relationships.

as i look to the future, i've begun looking into different masters in social work programs around the dc area... i want to stay here, as it feels more and more like home, and i can't imagine leaving j-house, new community church, or my friends here. i feel a little uncertain about applying to grad school because i don't have a really clear vision of what i want to do with the degree, but i know that my options would be vast, and i feel like next fall will be about the right time to start something new. we'll see. please continue to keep me in your prayers as i work on applications and discerning what the next step is.

with abandon.

i've been thinking about how this year at j-house has been so radically different thus far from last year. last year was full of so much learning about death and dying and about poverty. i'm still learning lots about both of those things, but it seems to me that this year is more about learning who i am and how to live with others, facing my own humanity and theirs. part of this comes from the nature of j-house right now; the house is almost full, but everyone in the house is fairly independent and no one needs bedside care. it can be incredibly joyful to live in community with one another with so many people feeling well - we had a great time celebrating halloween by decorating the house as oz and dressing up as different characters from the movie (i was dorothy, complete with ruby slippers and toto!); there are so many joyful moments gathered around the table sharing a meal together. but having so many healthier people in the house also makes things harder sometimes - there's more chance for fighting, for drama, for someone to slip back into feeding addictions, for stealing, for suspicion... it's hard to live together sometimes! and so, right now, i am amazed at how i am learning to see my family who lives here with me, to really see them, as human like me. i can't just "other" him and her as someone who is poor, or black, or HIV+, or sick, or any other label i'd like to give them that makes me different from them. no, we are the same. we are brothers and sisters, family, human beings interacting with one another and trying to care for each other in this crazy world. and it's often messy and imperfect and hard. but as pastor jim said last week in his sermon, love isn't love unless there is some risk involved. surely God risked it all in giving us Jesus, and i want to learn how to risk my all, how to live with abandon, in trust and faith that God is a merciful, loving God who will take care of me. in the midst of all this humanity, all these relationships, i want to learn how to live without clutching so tightly to my own things, my own desires, my own needs, and to live more and more fully in God so that i can be poured out for others. i don't know exactly what this looks like, but i am grateful for God's mercy and presence with me on this journey, as well as for the incredible community i have surrounding me and supporting me. and i am grateful for this year, this gift of time and space to really learn about who i am at my deepest core, what makes me feel most alive, and to explore what it means to live out of that place, trusting God as my creator to use me as i am made to be. to live with abandon.

election.

i walked down the stairs with one of the residents that morning, heading to the breakfast table. as we met on the landing, i asked her how she was doing this morning. she looked at me, and her big beautiful smile spread across her face. “i’m doing great!” she said to me. “it’s election day!” the energy at the breakfast table was high, and intensified by the O shaped Obama biscuits. it was pretty amazing to realize the hope that obama has inspired in so many, especially among black men and women at joseph's house who can hardly believe that a black man could be allowed to lead the country. one of the guys took off to the festival center to vote and is still wearing his “I voted today!” sticker proudly on his brown leather coat. one of the cornerstone guys came over and asked me, “do you think they have an instruction book there at the poll?” i told him i didn’t think so, but that when i went to vote for the first time in PA, the volunteers working there were really helpful and told me how to do everything. “is this your first time voting?” i asked him. “yep,” he replied. amazing! a forty something year old black man, who’s spent time in prison, on the streets, in and out of rehab programs, is going out to vote with excitement, feeling like anything is possible. in so many ways, that day was a healing day, renewing my somewhat lost faith in democracy, in patriotism, and in hope for america.

i still had to go to my chorale rehearsal that night, and when i got back to joseph’s house, no one was down watching tv. i headed up to my room, a little disappointed that i was spending election night by myself when i live in the nation’s capital. so after my best friend called and told me that obama won virginia, i went downstairs again and turned on one of the news channels. one of the residents was down there setting the table for the next morning, so i helped him put out the spoons and cups as we waited. then emily called again, “obama won it!” i pulled my table setting buddy into the living room as we watched the reactions of people all over the country, crying, cheering, ecstatic, disbelieving. my friend stood in his somewhat sleep-like state, hunched over with his arms hanging down, and bounced up and down, doing a little dance and yelling hoarsely, “o-bam-a!” i paged over the intercom in the whole house, “obama won! obama won!” we went out on the porch and joined in the cheering that was erupting all over the neighborhood. cars honking, people screaming and clapping, fireworks going off… it was like new years but better. my friend brey and i walked down to 18th street in adams morgan, where the street was filled with people screaming, waving huge flags, singing the star spangled banner and playing when the saints go marching in on a random trumpet. two police cars drove into the crowds of people with their sirens on, but even that couldn’t dispel the excited crowds. eventually, the policemen drove off and left us all to our celebration. the sense of camaraderie, community, and hope was so tangible, across color and class lines. it felt so huge and new.

i know that not everyone reading this blog agrees with me or is excited that obama won the election. i know that electing a black president will not change the prejudice that lives as hatred in the hearts of many, or the racism that is deeply entrenched in the systems of our country, which i've written about before. i know that no matter how great our president elect sounds, he is not a savior; i trust in Christ alone to bring His kingdom to this earth. i also know that it’s very possible that not all that much will change, that we will be disappointed in many things that even the most hopeful president cannot yet change. yet, the hope is in the hearts of the people who are ready for something new, to believe in democracy and unity and change. and the possibility for healing and reconciliation that having a black man as our president does, to me, provide an opportunity for the Kingdom to grow. i just hope and pray that this change really will affect the lives of all Americans in a way that promotes unity, peace, and especially helps those who are poor. i know that there is a lot of fear, especially considering the state of the economy right now, about what will happen to our country, especially for those of us who aren't struggling as much and were perfectly content with the way life has been. it’s scary for me, too, a little bit to realize that i grew up living a lifestyle that benefits from tax breaks for the wealthy. am i really willing to give up my privilege, my leisure, my security so that others can eat, have affordable housing and healthcare and education? i hope that i am. God, give me strength, give us strength of conviction and the courage to follow through. please guide our country and our new leader.

from this bed.

last week, i had a little biking incident followed by a belly dancing class that seems to have done some temporary damage to my lower back. i'm sure i'll be fine after letting my body do its healing, but being forced to miss a weekend camping trip and lay in bed on my back for the majority of the past three days instead has made me think a lot about my friends here at joseph's house, thoughts that have also been spurred on by the movie "the diving bell and the butterfly," which i would highly recommend.

what would it be like to always be bound to this bed? to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night staring at the same cracks on the wall, hearing noises in the rest of the house and on the streets of action and vitality while being trapped in my own body here in this bed, forced to observe the world? to have to ask for the simplest things, like a glass of water or for help to use the bathroom? while i'm thankfully not at that place of complete debilitation, i can somewhat resonate with that position of bed-boundness. and what does that begin to do to my sense of self and worth, when i can no longer do the things i used to do, or live out the roles that have defined me for my whole life? maybe i can no longer see myself as a musician, or a caregiver, or a writer. maybe i can no longer see my humanity as defined by my ability to walk, or use the bathroom, or eat by myself.

last week, we began a little book study on the book a year to live by stephen levine. this is a book about an experiment the author did to take one year and live it as if it was his last. during our time together at j-house on thursday, we did an exercise where each of us wrote on sticky notes our 4 most important material posessions, our 4 most important activities, our 4 most important roles (aka sister, girlfriend, daughter, musician...), and the 4 most important people in our lives. we then had to lay these all out in front of us, and choose 1 from each category to hand over to "death," a role played by patty, who gracefully collected our stickies in a bowl in the center of the circle. then, "death" came around a second time and took any number of stickies that she wanted from each of us without our choosing. it was a sobering and insightful exercise, to be forced to give over things that define us, that often make up the meaning in our lives, to death. an activity that we will all have to engage in, willingly or not, at the end of our lives. and if we think about it, we probably experience small deaths each day, being forced to give up roles or relationships or possessions that we may have valued or clung to or defined ourselves with, but which are unwillingly taken from us. maybe it's a job lost, a friend lost, a favorite cd lost, a shattered expectation or hope of someone else or ourselves. as we did the exercise, however, i began to think: if death takes all these things from me, is there still something at the core of who i am that makes me human and gives me meaning?

i think so. regardless of how much or how little we are able to move, think, relate to others, at our core, we are each beloved children of God. this can seem a little trite sometimes, but to know that when we are lying in that bed, unable to move or speak or do any of the things that have always defined us, we are still loved, and loved fully and passionately by God, is incredibly freeing.

so as i write this, from this bed, i desire to rest tonight in the freedom that i am incredibly and perfectly loved by my Creator.

bellydancing and such.

well, dear friends, it has once again been entirely too long since i've written to you. and since i'm filling in an overnight shift tonight and it seems pretty quiet in the house right now, i thought i'd take a little time to update you on my life down here in the district.

i can't believe it's already october. i love the feeling of fall. i love biking everywhere... thanks to some generous friends, i have a new (used) bike to replace my former mode of transportation: a purple sparkly bicycle from about the 4th grade. today, a few of us went on a glorious 20 mile bike ride on the capital crescent trail... i do love biking. the feeling of wind in your hair and on your face, the beauty of the outdoors, the workout even... it's been great for me to grow in confidence to bike around the city.

so since moving into the j-house, i've been pretty intentional about creating lots of scheduled time for myself outside the house. this has consisted so far of joining the capitol hill chorale, a singing group of about 90 people that practices down on the hill; beginning a yoga class and a belly dancing class at a local art center for low-income kids and adults (which yes, i still fit into on my increased stipend); starting meeting with a therapist as a support for processing things in the house and beyond; and joining a class at my church, new community church, called "the church as a recovery and resurrection community". all of a sudden, my days have filled up! it's been great to be a part of new things and meet new people, but i am feeling the tension between so much structure outside of my time at j-house and the lack of structure during my time in the house. i'm only scheduled to work one 8 hour shift a week, filling in some extra times when needed, but the rest of the time, i still need to figure out how to be in the house without working all the time or hiding out in my room all the time. i guess life is a constant search for balance, and this is a prime example. any fears i may have had, however, about not being supported as i live here are very much dispelled. i feel incredibly supported and cared for by my housemates from last year, many of whom are still living in dc, my co-workers and friends here in the house, my fantastic boyfriend and the other cornerstone guys, my church, and lots of friends and family who aren't in dc as well.

it is strange, too, realizing that the kind of obsessive and emotional feelings of love that i had for the house and the residents last year have shifted. last year, i felt like i could give of myself and my time almost tirelessly to this place, and i really wanted to always be here. now, i feel myself not always wanting to be around, having to push myself sometimes to be present to and patient with my family in the house. i guess it's a little like a romantic relationship - the emotional high and excitement that usually comes with the newness of a relationship tends to fade in and out, and eventually, a deeper level of commitment to one another and love for each other can grow. it's different, but ultimately, i think it's better, or at least truer and deeper. this is what i hope for this year in the house.

that's not to say there aren't incredible times too... like one of the residents finally naming himself as someone with HIV and claiming both his sickness and his desire to live; like beautiful huge smiles and hugs and "goodnight roomie!" from another precious friend; like tonight at dinner, sitting around the table together, sharing laughs and good food, planning halloween costumes, dancing and singing to aretha franklin. "freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom, freeeeedom!"

it's not about me.

i am incredibly blessed to be living in the j-house. what an incredible struggle and an incredible gift this year will be! i do miss my dy family, but it helps that many of them are still around, and i am grateful for this chance to invest more completely in my family here at the house.

i had a pretty frustrating morning yesterday. one of the residents who has been around for a long time and is really loved and huge to the house is dying. he is getting more and more confused and sick, but he is fighting to the end. yesterday before breakfast, he told me he really wanted some macaroni and cheese. so along with making the usual extravagant breakfast of eggs, bacon, grits, oatmeal, toast, potatoes, fruit, etc etc... :-) i made a batch of macaroni and cheese from scratch with the help of one of the nurses here. i felt pretty glad to be able to make him what he wanted from scratch, not to question the oddness of wanting mac and cheese for breakfast but just to do it. i love that about joseph's house - following whims, giving as much and whatever we can to provide comfort and show love.

but as i brought the mac and cheese to him as he sat on the couch, he took one look and proceeded to tell me that i was a lousy cook, that i have a lot to learn, that the mac and cheese was lumpy and awful... and in that moment, i was really frustrated! i didn't want to love him, i didn't want to be compassionate or gentle, i was mad for being unappreciated and criticized. so i went and cleaned some bathrooms... good coping mechanism i guess. :-) and as i was scrubbing the toilet, i realized that the mac and cheese episode had nothing to do with me, with me being a bad cook, with me not being able to meet needs. my friend is dying! he is reaching for control, he is struggling on the edge of life and death, he is scared, he has toxins from his failing liver invading his brain and affecting his personality and confusing his thoughts... this is yet again another opportunity to look beyond myself and to continue to extend love, grace, and compassion to a dear friend who i do love who is dying. and how many times to things that hurt me in relationships actually have nothing to do with me, but with a deeper pain that my friend is feeling? i desire to have eyes to see through my own sensitivity to the pain that others are acting out of.

this idea that it's not about me has been a big one for me lately. yes, i need my own needs met, and i need to be cared for, and i'm grateful for a place like j-house that promotes self-reflection and for dear friends here and outside the house who care for me and love me. but, as much as i want to continue to live a self-reflective, introspective life, i also want to live a life where i can look beyond myself and with wild abandon give my life away. Jesus talks so much about this - those who lose their lives for My sake will find it, take up your cross and follow Me, the one who wants to be great must be a servant of all... i want to continue to follow Christ, to follow His way of love and peace and sacrifice and healing and giving life, not just live for myself and my own ego. and ultimately, i don't want my life to be about me, but about how who i am and what i do fits into a bigger picture of God's love, salvation, and redemption of the world. may it be so in my life.

remember.

this week, we had a memorial service to honor all those who have passed away at j-house in this past year. this has been such a week of closure and remembering - the residents of j-house, the year with my dy community, and the year with my j-house community. it's been sad and joyful to reflect over this past year - it's been an incredible year. anyhow, i wrote a poem prayer for our service which i thought i'd share.


We remember.
We do not ask, God, that the void be filled
For in the aching, in the yearning, in the grieving, in the emptiness,
We remember.
Faces. Laughter. Tears. Voices. Silence. Friendship. Hands. Love.
So we ask instead, God, to remember.
We ask for memories
That they would be our joy.
To remind us that our lives are full of moments of beauty and love. And to look for those moments.
We ask for learning
That they would be our teachers.
To remind us of how much we have learned from those whose lives have brushed against our own. And how much we have yet to learn.
We ask for hope
That they would inspire us.
To remind us that there is beauty in ashes, joy in pain, life in death.
We ask for a chance to live more fully and deeply into who we are
Remembering the blessing of each day. Each moment. Each breath.
In. Out.
And we are alive!
So as we remember
These Faces. Laughter. Tears. Voices. Silence. Friendship. Hands. Love.
We ask that our hearts will always quiver, even the slightest bit,
For those who have flown away to freedom.
And that out of death, into death, we would each have the courage to choose life.
Today. In this moment.
In. Out.
May we remember.
Amen.

silence is golden.

it's been a long time, and much has happened in my life since i last wrote. i came through some heart break with an increased sense of my self, of my own freedom and strength, of my own empoweredness. as my friends and family laugh at me, i still love to claim that i am an empowered woman. i assert that who i am, who God has made me to be, is beautiful and loved and unique and strong, and i choose to surround myself with people who allow me the freedom and grace to continue to learn and live out who i am at the core of my being. i am so grateful from the beauty that has come from ashes of pain in my life.

i have also decided for sure to live at j-house next year. i feel called to live there; i believe so strongly that Jesus is with and desires me to be with the poor, the broken, and to see myself too as poor and broken. and how more fully can i be present to and with those who are suffering and to my own suffering than to live in community with my beautiful brothers and sisters who are dying at j-house? i know it will be hard, but i also know that it will be incredible, growing, rich, beautiful. so pray for me as i prepare to transition. and pray for my community now as well - it will be hard to leave this sweet community. i will miss living with them so much - they have become my family, my confidants, my closest friends. and there is still much uncertainty for many of them about where they will live, what they will do. i know and trust that God has so much in store for each of us, and i pray that the gift of community that God has given us this year will continue throughout our whole lives.

this past weekend, my community went on a silent retreat at a beautiful retreat center in maryland. we traveled to the beautiful land on friday afternoon, ate dinner together, and then entered the silence, which we kept until sunday mid morning, where we broke it for a worship service. it was really lovely. it's amazing how much, in the silence, i am even more aware of how my mind is constantly racing! but even to notice how my swirling thoughts became thinner and more slowly moving was a blessing. i desire to cultivate more space for silence in my life. i believe that God desires me to just spend time with God in silence. and in the silence, in nature, i felt God's presence - in the songs of the bullfrogs by the pond, in the sunset giving its golden light to the tall grass, in the fireflies twinkling in the dusk, and most of all, in the warm summer breeze. that breeze that seemed to fill me and breathe into me and through me, reminding me that God is with me and in me and all around me. and so i am grateful for the silence.

i am also grateful for the metaphors in nature that i feel blessed to see and feel. i sat for a while with my feet in a stream, just taking in the beauty around me. as i looked at the stream, i realized that i could choose to see two realities. one was the muddy, murky, brown stream bed covered in rocks and mud. the other was the beautiful reflection of the green glowing trees and the blue vibrant sky in the water. i couldn't see both at the same time - almost like one of those magic eye books, i had to choose which reality to focus on, and that was the only one i could see. this is a reminder to me about the kingdom of God. i have a choice to focus on the sin and pain and brokenness of this world, the mud of the world which seems without hope; or i can focus on the ways in which the bigger, more vibrant reality of the kingdom of God is already reflected and seen in the world now. i can choose to see the kingdom, acknowledging that sometimes it will be marred by ripples and harder to see. but still, God's kingdom is here and now, and it is coming in its incredible beauty and strength and life. i want to choose to both see God's kingdom in the world, as well as to be that kingdom, to be that reflection of God's love and justice and peace in a world that is still full of muck and mire. help me, Lord, to see and reflect Your kingdom.

an open heart.

i have experienced pain this year. pain of falling in love with those at joseph's house only to lose them. pain of feeling unsettled and ungrounded by questions that have pierced down deep into my very core. pain of being rejected in a relationship where i felt i had given so much of myself. pain of feeling distance from those i love who find it difficult to understand what i am doing and how i am being.

and yet, despite this pain, i want to and need to keep my heart and my mind open. please understand me - this does not mean that i do not believe in truth. i believe and hold on deeply to the truth that Jesus is God and has come to show us the way to love and be loved, to usher in a new way of being that brings wholeness and reconciliation between us as human beings together and between us and God. but i also feel so strongly that i want and need to come to the world with a posture of openness - i picture myself sitting cross legged with my hands on my legs, palms out and up, arms outstretched, looking up and out. i want to ask questions. i want to be curious. i want to hear different views, to hear different people, not just to prove to them that i am right and they are wrong. i want to really hear them. i want to be open to knowing, to being in different ways, to see God in new and different places, to being shaped and molded. i think that sometimes, conservative christians believe that they have to cling so tightly to a very narrow truth that they end up going on the offensive against anyone who comes down outside of this narrow truth, wounding others and themselves in the process. i have been there for much of my life. but if we believe in a God who is infinite, a God who will forever be mystery to us, then why is it so hard to embrace mystery, to embrace unknowing or contradictions or new possibilities? i know this can be taken too far, but i also know that clinging so tightly to my own version of what is truth can steal from me beautiful relationships and richness of life. and so i ask questions, i look further and deeper, and i don't claim many answers. i'm sorry if my openness to the world, to knowing and questioning and just being without answers is threatening to anyone that i love. but this is where i feel called to be. with open ears, open mind, open heart, trusting that God is big enough to keep me in His love and truth.

charity versus justice.

so david hilfiker, the founder of joseph's house, is teaching a class for us volunteers about the structural causes of urban poverty. his book, urban poverty, is a really great, fairly easy read that clearly lays out the structural causes, historical roots, and possible ways to change the urban ghetto. i've really gained a lot of great insight from reading his book and taking this class with my fellow volunteers.

last week, we read an article that he wrote several years ago about the dichotomy between charity and justice, and it really made me think. his argument is not to do away with charity, but that we need to be aware of the dangers of charity work in inhibiting our work for justice. places like joseph's house and other charities address the results of a problematic system, trying to alleviate the immediate, dire needs of people in poverty; and as much as this is necessary, in some ways it takes pressure off of the government to change the systems that put them in such dire straits in the first place. charity is also more rewarding and often easier to do than pursuing justice - charity gives us the pleasure of seeing real people's lives being changed, even in small ways, and it can be a once and done thing. negatively, however, charity lets us maintain an unhealthy power relationship with the poor, a one-way relationship in which we are the only ones giving, which allows us to continue to see them as "other" than ourselves. conversely, justice, achieving a level of enough and dignity for all human beings regardless of whether or not we think they are "deserving" of our charity or not, is a life-long effort, does not always result in seeing change in our lifetimes, forces us to see ourselves and the poor as part of a larger human family, and is much more threatening to changing our own way of life. but if we want to see places like joseph's house rendered unnecessary, if we want to eliminate poverty and AIDS, then just taking care of those currently in poverty will not do it - we need to radically change our systems - healthcare, welfare, education, employment opportunity. and these things will change our way of life in some way. but isn't it worth it - how can we, the richest nation in the world, allow our own people to live in such destitution? we need to stop seeing the poor as "other" than ourselves, stop being so concerned about preserving our individual privilege at the sake of depriving others of basic needs, stop feeling good about ourselves after writing a check or volunteering our time at a charitable organization, and start engaging our government and those in power about the things that are keeping our brothers and sisters in the unbreakable cycle of poverty that they are currently in.

my hope and prayer is that you, hearing the stories about these precious friends of mine who are being wronged by our current systems, will join me in engaging. we need the real relationships across racial and socio-economic lines which charity work so often provides to keep fueling our passion to engage these systems. it's much harder to give up when faces and names of dear friends will not leave you alone, friends who are suffering. i invite you to find your own friends that cross these boundaries, and allow them to teach you and help you engage the issues that are keeping us apart from one another. Jesus was the ultimate boundary crosser - he befriended women, samaritans, tax collectors, prostitutes. let us do the same and allow these relationships to transform us and transform our country, as well.

choosing to follow.

it's been a long time since i have thought about choosing to walk in God's way, to follow Him in my life. as i've thought about what i will do next year, i've thought about it mostly from a perspective of selfishness. what do i want? what will i enjoy the most? what will bring me joy and security? i do think that it's helpful to think about what i love and what i desire as i think about God's will in discerning the next steps for my life. as a general rule, i think that evangelical christians tend to downplay their own desires and wants as they try to deny themselves to follow Christ. but i believe that God has created us with unique gifts and desires, and so when we discover something that brings us deep joy, it is often God's spirit coming alive inside of us and guiding us. yet, i do want to think about how i can follow Christ, how i can work to bring God's kingdom, which is both at hand and still coming, here on earth now in a deeper way.

last sunday, i heard gordon cosby, one of the founders of the church of the savior, preach at church. his sermons are always deep and convicting, and this one was no different. one of his points was that we need to understand Christ's suffering as tied to his love and to follow him in that. gordon talked about Christ's love being a suffering love, that Christ went to places of suffering to be with and take part in that suffering. and if we claim to follow Christ, we need to do the same. when he spoke those words, "joseph's house" came to my mind in complete clarity. i realized last week that for me at this point in my life, to follow Christ in the deepest, most complete way that i can see is to live at joseph's house next year. to live in community and work with those who are suffering in a deep way, facing their own pain, illness, and death, is clearly God's call on my life right now. and i want to choose to follow God's call. i know that it will be hard, i know that living with my beautiful friends here in DY again would be a lot easier and more fun, but i want to choose God's way. and so i choose it, knowing it will be rich and hard and painful and beautiful.

also, i've gotten so many opportunities in the past week and a half to go downtown and see the cherry blossoms. they are so beautiful, and i love being with them with different friends in different times - bringing down a blanket and lying in the grass amidst them, walking around the tidal basin and seeing all the petals in the water, taking silly pictures and beautiful pictures, watching the other people there to take in the beautiful sight. i love spring and the beauty of nature. i'm grateful to be alive at times like these.

i know where i've been.

there are points in my life when i love to look back and see this twisty turvy journey that i have been on. it's amazing, really.

a year ago, could i have guessed that i would be living in dc, doing the city thing, living simply, having a compost, enjoying the cherry blossoms; working in an incredible job that i love and feel fully alive at, caring for and becoming friends with men and women who are dying; living in an incredible community full of incredible lovely and loving friends and brothers and sisters in the journey; becoming part of an incredible church community of people who are, to me, living out the gospel and the kingdom of God in the most authentic way that i have ever experienced; falling in love with an amazing guy who just serenaded me and cooked me a delicious birthday breakfast; seeing God and Jesus and faith and love in a whole new way? the answer is no. but i'm so grateful.

i always love birthdays, both mine and other peoples'. i get made fun of for loving holidays in general - i love wearing the crazy festive socks, the colors, baking the cookies (one of my co-workers said she didn't know it was presidents day because i didn't make president shaped cookies). but i just love having any chance to celebrate being alive. and birthdays are a great time to do that. so thank you to all who made my birthday beautiful. and who make my life beautiful.

because my life is so full of beauty.

happy easter.

Christ is risen.

he is risen indeed.

hallelujah.

five years.

sadly, i can't even really remember what i was doing five years ago when the war started - i think that i was pretty oblivious and apathetic. the journey that i've been on for the past five years, especially the past three, has been pretty incredible. i still feel as though i am generally pretty uninformed about the happenings of the world, but despite that, i felt so able to mourn today - to mourn the hundreds of thousands of lost lives, to mourn the families ripped apart, to mourn our ability to kill one another, to mourn unnecessary death.

we held a candlelight vigil at joseph's house tonight - it seemed appropriate, as we, too, are very familiar with mourning the dead. it breaks my heart to think about the way that we are able to love and accompany in a beautiful way those who are dying here at j-house, while thousands upon thousands of iraqis have died alone and needlessly because of this awful war. and honestly, if the government weren't spending billions of dollars on war and violence in iraq, perhaps joseph's house would not need to exist - perhaps the government could and would actually spend money and effort on fighting the poverty in this country that leads people to be homeless, on fighting AIDS in this country that kills so many.

i wrote a liturgy for tonight's memorial vigil. i'll post it here. because we wanted to be inclusive, we did not use any kind of religious language in the liturgy. but all i can think tonight is "Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. please."

A Liturgy for the Fifth Anniversary of the War in Iraq

Response: We remember, we mourn, we press on towards peace.

Leader: On this day, we lament these past five years of violence in Iraq.

Response: We remember, we mourn, we press on towards peace.

Leader: On this day, we think of those thousands of soldiers, both American and Iraqi, who have died in combat.

Response: We remember, we mourn, we press on towards peace.

Leader: On this day, we think of those tens of thousands of Iraqi people, innocent civilians, who have died in violence or in need as a result of this war.

Response: We remember, we mourn, we press on towards peace.

Leader: On this day, we think of those millions of Iraqi refugees displaced by war who today, at this moment, are without homes, food, medicine, shelter, or safety.

Response: We remember, we mourn, we press on towards peace.

Leader: On this day, we think of those millions of Americans who are homeless, sick, hungry, and neglected while our government spends billions of dollars on war and violence.

Response: We remember, we mourn, we press on towards peace.

Leader: On this day, our hearts ache for all those who have lost fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, and friends to the senseless violence of war.

Response: We remember, we mourn, we press on towards peace.

Leader: On this day, we mourn loved ones lost, and we condemn violence in all its forms.

Response: We remember, we mourn, we press on towards peace.

Leader: On this day, we pledge to remember and honor those who have died by actively pursuing peace, both in our own lives and for our nation.

Response: We remember, we mourn, we press on towards peace.

Lord, have mercy on us. lead us to peace.

a long time.

well my friends, it has been an awful long time since i wrote to you on here. for that, i am sorry. i want to be better about keeping you informed about what is going on in my life, what i'm seeing, learning, experiencing, feeling down here in dc. so much has happened in the last month and a half since i last wrote. i got to share my world here with my lovely family, molly and my parents in separate weekends, and that was really great and affirming. those visits were precious, and in sharing my world here with them, i realized more that this is truly my world, my home here now, and it feels very different than a college visit ever did. sometimes, i feel so overwhelmed with gratitude when i realize that everything i was made to do and be, i can do and be here - at j-house, in my community, in this church community, in this city. i am able to be fully myself in a glorious way here. i am so thankful for that.



i also went on an anti-racism training weekend called damascus road in philadelphia. it was a powerful time of learning and beginning to see the world and my world differently. i'd like to write a whole post on racism sometime, but for now, i'll only say that when i begin to think about and realize how entrenched racism is in the structures and culture of our society, i am overwhelmed. one of my many privileges as a whie person is that i am able to be ignorant, that i don't need to think about racism because it doesn't clearly face me everyday. white people in this country hold the power and privilege at the cost of people of color. our history shows this, our present shows this. how can we change this? how can i be a part of this? this learning is also being enhanced by a class i'm taking with the other j-house volunteers that is taught by david hilfiker, who founded joseph's house. so much good and challenging learning. i continue to see the world with different eyes.



there has been much learning and change at joseph's house in this past month, especially in the past two weeks. we've had a lot of deaths lately, two in particular which were really huge. i continue to mourn for them and process what they taught me. on the other hand, one of the residents who has been there since i got to j-house in august is really improving and has started physical therapy after not walking since last spring. we went to the zoo on wednesday, which was a glorious day, and it was really lovely. we enjoyed the gorillas especially, although she screamed so loud at a rather large python in the reptile house that the whole zoo must have heard. :-) it was a really great time. and we continue to get new residents, with whom i seem to just fall in love so quickly. i know that it is God living inside me that allows me to continue to love over and over again, knowing that i will lose them. but really, i gain so much, i receive a gift with each new resident, and when i allow myself to open to each new gift, i am blessed.



i've also spent some great time with friends this past month and a half. i continue to absolutely love my roommates - the seven of us were so blessed when we were given each other to live with this year (and possibly beyond!). we got to celebrate isa's 25th birthday, sing and play together, splurge and go out for indian food, hang out together in philly. last tuesday night in the rainstorm, two of my roommates came out and played in the rain with me (as did david :-). we ran and splashed in the puddles late at night, and sang at the top of our lungs together. then we bought ice cream cones and sat on a porch swing and laughed. oh, it was glorious. i love the warmer weather and the anticipation of spring and newness. i got to spend last weekend in NYC with one of my best friends, catching up, laughing, just being together. i continue to grow closer and closer with my co-workers at joseph's house, which is also such a blessing. i am also falling in love with an incredible guy, which is great. :-) i am a part of so many beautiful communities and incredible relationships. my heart and life is full of love.



so, after all that, i am tired but blessed. my life is rich, but my heart feels a little bit like it's pulled, stretched, covered in the fingerprints of beautiful people. in our staff meeting yesterday at j-house, we made clay pieces to express how we were feeling. and i, i feel a little bit like i am so busy and so full that i am numb to myself. i haven't been able to cry in a few months now, which is feeling heavy. i feel a little bit distanced from everyone in my life. but i also sense the newness that is coming, anticipating cherry blossoms and blossoms in my own life in the spring time. and i know that through it all, i am not alone. God's grace in my life abounds.

lovelies.

i just thought it would be fun to put up a picture of some of my lovely roommates and me going out salsa dancing last weekend.

i am so blessed to live in this house with six incredible people.

hands.

i had one of those incredible, deep experiences at joseph's house this weekend.

one of the residents at j-house right now has been a little bit hard for me to connect with. he has a trach, so he can't talk that well, and he has a feeding tube, so he doesn't eat meals with us. he's in an incredible amount of physical pain - he sits in his room with his head in his hands and stomps his feet. that much physical pain, combined with emotional and spiritual agony, sometimes coming out in anger, is scary to me. so i had not been the best about carving out time to be with him.

this sunday, however, he was in an excrutiating amount of pain. so i went in to sit with him. as i walked in the room, i accidentally startled him awake. i felt so uncomfortable, so unsure if i was welcome in that room. but i decided that i needed to stay and sit until he asked me to leave. so i did. and after about half an hour, he reached out and took my hands. all i can do is pray in his presence - he is a deeply spiritual, deeply hurting person. i was praying that Jesus would be present with us, and then i had this sense that in that moment, I was being Christ to him. i was overwhelmed at the thought of the intense physical experience of pain that he was in, and so i put all my focus, my energy, towards my hands, towards pouring love somehow through my hands into his. i wanted this physical sensation to be somehow redemptive, counteracting the physical pain in the rest of his body. as i thought and prayed for that redemptive touch, he began rubbing his hands all over mine - rubbing my wrists, squeezing then releasing, interlocking fingers. we sat like that for over an hour, just our hands together, feeling that connection, experiencing touch and love in that touch. in a completely non-sexual way, it was like we were making love with our hands.

i'm still in awe of that time as i think about it. since sunday, my interactions with this dear man have been so profound and full of love. he gave me his will, telling me that he wouldn't have given it to me if he didn't trust me. he gave me a hug and a kiss when i left, and the look in his eyes of gratitude was enough to make me cry.

i am so thankful for the gift of hands. and the gift of love. and this incredible gift of meeting others in a deep way.

simplicity.

here's a short, 20 minute movie called the story of stuff. it's pretty interesting to think more about where all our stuff has come from and where it's going. go to www.storyofstuff.com, watch the movie, and if you do, please let me know what you think! (it may take a little while to load)

also, i have decided that it is my goal by the end of this month to start our own indoor compost bin. i'm so excited! i'll be sure to keep posting about the progress of that... the next thing on the agenda is to order a couple hundred worms... :-)

i am enjoying being stretched and continuing to learn about simplicity and how to be a good steward of the earth and to care for my neighbors. if i want to follow Jesus in all areas of life, i think it would be good to keep scaling down my possessions and being more thoughtful about material things (although i know i will stop far short of becoming a wandering teacher with a pair of sandals and a tunic...)

the questions.

this week has been one of the hardest weeks of perhaps my life. i've felt overwhelmed with grief for most of the week, overwhelmed with death and sickness, devoid of hope, and sometimes, just numb. we've been grieving the loss of three men who were all significant to us at j-house, mourning the sudden loss of a father for one of our nurses, and feeling scared and shocked over the news of the hospitalization of another resident who'd made it out of j-house into a drug rehab program. it seemed for a while like there was no way it was possible to get any more bad news.

with so much grief and pain in my heart and the hearts of my dear family at j-house, i've been too overwhelmed even really to cry.

and amidst it all, i continue to ask so many questions - questions about life, death, God, salvation, Jesus, heaven, hope, redemption... sometimes the questions just well up in me and feel so large and all-encompassing that i'm afraid they're going to become debilitating. but everyone keeps telling me to live into the questions. and so i try, sometimes because i have no choice but to keep living into them. i've been reading "letters to a young poet" by ranier maria rilke, which is full of wisdom. this is a passage that has resonated deep with me in this week:

"you are so yong, so before all beginning, and i want to beg you, as much as i can, dear sir, to be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. and the point is to live everything. live the questions now. perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer."

live everything.

how thankful i am to be in community. and how blessed, amidst it all. i love what my roommate sarah said about living in community: being in community is like being in love - whenever you're away, despite what happens, your heart wants to be with them. so it's good to be together.

goodbye.

my pops died this morning.

it was so fast, as seems fitting i suppose for him. he would never have put up with any long, drawn out dying process. when i came in a little after 7, he was talking to me, asking me in a hoarse voice to fan his sweaty, cold face. he sat up for a minute, trying to breathe better, then he lay back down. he tried to hold my hand through the sheet, so i took his hand from under the sheet and held it. and then, after a few hard breaths, and some little gasps, he stopped breathing. i couldn't believe it. it seemed unreal. i sat there in shock for what seemed like eternity, before calling for someone else to come in. because he wasn't on hospice, we had to call 911. thankfully, the detectives who came were kind and the EMTs were wise and merciful enough not to pound on his chest and do other horrible things in the name of recussitation. while all that happened, one of my other j-house loves let me lay in bed with her while be both cried, holding hands.

after the police and EMTs left, all of us staff at j-house washed his body gently and dressed him up in his favorite shirt and sweater (it makes him look like a professor, especially with his glasses on). then we just sat there together with him, telling stories, quoting him, laughing and crying. it was good to be together.

it will be so strange for my pops not to be there. i miss him. and i hate AIDS.

but better to have loved and have lost than never to have loved at all. and love him i did.