As the title suggests, this is a reposting of what I posted on our NGL Intern Blog this afternoon! It's quite long... and I will admit, there are portions of previous postings on here... so please disregard those! ;)
"Oh my! It’s been quite a while since I posted… too long in fact - with being on trips and then the blog being down, it’s been several weeks for me! So, let’s recap!
I spent a gorgeous week at Lakeside helping out with the Next Generation’s Leadership Taskforce and attending the West Ohio Annual Conference. I greatly enjoyed my time at Lakeside getting to know a few of my fellow interns better (and getting up at 5am to watch the sunrise - twice! And on cloudy days at that!) ;) I always love attending conference, I like being able to catch up with people from around the conference that I know, as well as meeting new friends and watching God work within us as a body. Oh! And I LOVE worship at conference!!!! We always invite such inspired speakers and worship is planned so beautifully! :) Usually, worship is my favorite aspect of conference, but this year, my favorite part was the time I spent with the youth as I stayed in the youth house and helped with the NGL Taskforce! I loved listening to the hearts of the youth as they shared their stories and drew closer to God, us, and one another. For me, one of my favorite moments was sitting up until 1:30 or 2:00 with Joe and one of the youth talking about calling. For me, it’s incredibly special that this youth chose me to share his calling with, and even more special that he was asking for my advice in figuring it out! When he asked me that, I almost fell off the chair I was sitting on - what?! You want me to give you advice about calling?! Me? The one who let life get in the way and ran for many, many years? Maybe I’m not the best person to ask about that! Every part of me wanted to tell him to find someone else to help him, that I wasn’t quite the one to do it… but something in the still of my heart spoke, “just sit.” And so I sat, and I prayed. God, give me the words, and I will speak only when you have given me the words to say. As it turns out, we had a great conversation, and not only was the youth blessed by the conversation (I think and I hope) I was blessed to be a part of it as well! Joe and I drove the youth home very late, and went to bed for what would turn out to be a very, very short night!
The next morning, I woke up around 4:45, climbing out of bed to make it to the dock by 5am… the youth that Joe and I had been talking to the night before was planning worship and devotions on the dock for the youth and the interns if we chose to come. After two or three hours of sleep, I was practically dragging myself out of bed, and my body fought very hard to go back to sleep! But I knew I had to go - I knew how much it would mean if I were there. As I arrived at the dock, I saw just how well worship had been planned that morning. The youth had arranged for there to be greeters at the end of the dock, welcoming people to worship, two guitarists, a sermon, and prayer time. I sat in awe at what God had done in the hearts and minds of these young people, and felt incredibly privileged to be asked to participate with them. Worship was incredible. We sang, we prayed, and the youth Joe and I had talked with the night before gave an amazing sermon. For a majority of the time, there were only two other adults there and myself, until Tiffanie joined us. At the conclusion of worship, we all prayed together in a circle, had a group hug, and took some pictures. After that, as I was preparing to head back to the youth house and then to a meeting, and morning worship (this was Thursday of Conference) the two other adults who had been there stopped me. We had a nice conversation about NGL things as well as the taskforce, and then they turned to go. As they left, I watched as one of the men turned around and walked back up to me. After a conversation about me and my ministry, the man took off a stole he had been wearing around his neck, placed it around mine, and charged me with speaking to and for all people. I didn’t know what to say, other than thank you. He hugged me once more, turned and the two men left. I was speechless, and if you know me very well at all, you also know that there were a few tears involved with that as well. ;) I spent some quiet time on the dock by myself thinking about what had happened, and then went on with the rest of my day!
For me, conference was amazing!!! I always feel so privileged to be a part of all the work that is done there, and to watch God work in and through us!
So onto the D.C. trip! Oh my, where to start!!! We had so much fun, it’s hard to even remember it all! Although I must say - I’m not sure I’ve laughed that long or hard in quite a long time! :) You all are amazing!!!! :) Although so much happened during the trip, I will do as I did with Lakeside, and pick a few of the highlights! :)
For me, there were three things that tied in the top of my list for the trip: The Holocaust Museum, going to the Casa de Maryland and worshipping with the Day Laborers there, and sitting in the UM Building with you all after we were invited to read our creative writing. It’s hard to say which of those things was my favorite, because each resonated with me in such a different way! Both of them however, were precious and sacred moments that won’t be easily forgotten!
At the holocaust museum, I was standing inside one of the traincars used to transport persons into the Nazi death camps. As I was standing there, I was overwhelmed by the thoughts of what had occurred in that space - final goodbyes, death, starvation, freezing, extreme heat, separation from loved ones, trampling, murder. All these things happened inside of train cars such as the very one in which I stood. And as I stood there, I could almost hear the voices, as if eavesdropping in on conversations. I could picture faces, pressed against one another - bodies crammed into the car like sardines. I stood and waited, with tears in my eyes, praying to God about what had occurred in that space. What would I do if I were standing there inside that train car? How hard would I have to fight to survive? Would my words be words of peace and grace, or words of anger? Would I be able to tell my loved ones that I loved them? My heart burst with questions, with empathy, and with sorrow. And it was just then, that God answered the thought crying out from the most inner part of my being - were You there God? Did the people inside this car pray to You? Did You hear their prayers? These were questions deeply imbedded into the heart of all the others I was asking - questions I fight with from time to time within my own journey. Are You really here God? Even in all this mess? In all my question asking inside that train car, I stood motionless, barely able to breathe, flooded with the questions, the hurt, the sorrow, the faces, the lives, the stories. It was all there. And it was then that a little boy approached me - he couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. I didn’t notice his approach, but he hugged me, and as I looked down, startled and roused out of my questions back into reality, I found this boy hugging me. We made eye contact and he said to me, “It’s okay. God was there.” Then as quickly as he’d come, he was gone, around the corner and out of sight, off into another part of the exhibit. I fought hard to keep the tears that had been filling my eyes from spilling over. I had just experienced God; a God with skin on - in the form of a little boy. I’m sure that he had no idea the impact of what he said to me. “It’s okay. God was there.” It wasn’t just a random statement. It was an answer to the cry of my heart. “It’s okay. God was there.” It wasn’t just about the train car, nor was it solely about the people that lived and died inside that car. It was about me. Living, breathing, and sometimes barely able to keep my head afloat me. “It’s okay. God was there.” I can scarcely attempt to comprehend the impact of that phrase. It speaks into the depths of my heart - to the places we often hide, where we often are the most broken and the most in need of help. Why is it that we hide from one another - even though we know others will help? Why is it that we hide from God? At least I did and still sometimes do. Adam and Eve hid from God in the Garden, and it’s a practice we still use today - albeit incredibly flawed and fruitless. Why is it that we can’t take our broken hearts, our shamed and guilty bodies to the Lord of all Creation? Why is it that we can’t take our dirty, sinful selves the to the very One who died to save us? What is it that we’re so afraid of? It’s a matter of trust. And it doesn’t come easily to me, or to many of us I suspect.
My question at devotions tonight was both a question and a challenge: What can I do today to change the world right now? How can I make an impact right now, right where I am, with whatever I have? Why do we always think that changing the world has to happen down the road, when we have things all planned out? Why can’t it happen now? Why can’t it happen here? Why can’t it start with me? It can. I just have to be willing to seek out those opportunities. I have to be willing to get a little messy. To step outside my comfort zone and my safety net. I have to take the risk and just jump, knowing that I will be caught in the loving arms of my Savior. It’s about risk, it’s about love, it’s about trust. And most of all, it’s about changing the world in whatever way we can, right now, today. So… what are we waiting for?
There was something about being at Casa de Maryland that just made my heart smile, even before we walked in the doors and got the warm welcome! Pastor David is a phenomenal man, and I am so glad that he has worked in the ministry there! As we introduced ourselves, I once again (I say once again, because this is something I experienced last summer on our mission trip as well) felt completely culturally ignorant to many of the individuals who were seated in front of us. I couldn’t speak their language and some of them couldn’t speak mine. On one hand, this was truly frustrating, as language is such a vital form of communication, but on the other, it was a blessing, allowing me to pay much more attention to the other forms of communication that were going on. Body language, tone, pitch, inflection, vocal speed… all of these things that we often filter out became much more important when I was speaking through a translator! And I also find speaking through a translator to be both sad and exciting. Sad, because I cannot speak the language of the person I am speaking to. I’ve been given the cultural privilege to learn English as my primary language (and yes, I do speak a bit of French… but let’s face it, for me, it’s not nearly enough to be able to communicate effectively!) I was given by privilege of my birth status, parents, nationality, and lots of other things I can’t control the gift of speaking English in an English speaking country. For whatever reason, good, bad, or indifferent, the individuals that we were speaking with were here with us, in a country where their language is not the primary one, nor is it understood or spoken by many people at all! For me, being in a situation where my language is the minority is exciting - it’s a chance to learn something new, but more than that, it’s a chance to walk in someone else’s shoes… just for a few minutes. The interesting aspect of that is that I can leave. I can walk outside of Casa de Maryland and find people who look like me, act like me, and speak my language. The difficult thing is individuals like Max and the man from Kenya, and all the other men and women in that room have a hard time doing that. They don’t have the choice to leave and find signs and grocery stores that are everywhere and convenient like those of us who are privileged enough to speak English can. (Okay, okay, I know… enough about that, and time to get off my soapbox!) Anyhow, being in worship with the Day Laborers is something that I won’t forget. It was a privilege to be invited and welcomed into their midst and to be made a part of their community there. Pastor David told us that whenever we were in Maryland, we could find a home there with them, and it was something I truly felt! His words weren’t just empty words, but the words of himself and the community in which he represents! Another touching moment for me was when Max stood up to address us. Speaking through Pastor David, Max charged us with asking questions, with speaking for those who have no voice, - for them, as Day Laborers. Max told us that we were the generation of the Church that needs to fix the world, to speak for those whom churches have previously cast aside. As he spoke, I felt the tears in my eyes, and then on my cheeks…. it’s true. We are that generation! It is our job to speak for the voiceless, it is our job to ask the questions people have been avoiding for years! It is our job to keep asking those questions until we (the Church) can figure out how to answer them! We must not remain silent, we must not sit by and let things happen as they have been and avoid changing the system… as the current catchphrase says, we must “rethink church” and we’re the one’s to do it! It’s our job!!! It is our job to push the Church to newer and greater ministy opportunities… it is our job to be what Jesus has called us to be!!!! (Okay, okay, I know… another soapbox!) After worship, we had a few minutes to mingle with the Day Laborers before we had to go on to the next part of our day, so I chose to thank Max. Just about the only Spanish I know is how to say thank you, so that is what I went to say. “Gracias Max” There was much more that I wanted to say, but without a translator and without the ability to speak Spanish, I just could not. But then, Max spoke, and he spoke to me in English, continuing what he had said to us as a large group and speaking to me as a leader of the church. He asked me to remember his face, to remember his name, and to remember his story when I help the church make policies. He asked me to remember people like him who have no voice, either politically or in the church and to speak on their behalf. I smiled, and I thanked Max for his wisdom and his kindness and for the witness that he had been to me that day. I knew that my heart would never be the same! During that time, I also spoke to a man from Kenya, who also urged me to speak on his behalf. He asked me to “be a voice for us who cannot speak” and to advocate on his behalf. The words of these two men touched me deeply and to be quite honest, I’m not exactly sure what all to do with them yet… that’s still something I’m thinking and praying about!
The other part of the trip that touched me deeply was when the poet Quique Aviles came and shared his poetry and monologue with us. He was so inspiring and his work touched my heart as well! But even more than that, you all touched my heart!! After we dispersed and came back together with our creative writings, I was amazed to find that a majority of us were willing to share our work. Usually, that is not something I would do, but after listening to several beautiful and indescribable works, I felt as though I should share. I was blessed by the vulnerability of each of us in that moment. That we were willing to share with one another a piece of our heart and soul, and that we trusted one another to take a piece of our heart with them. So to all of you who shared and to all of you who chose not to share, thank you for being a blessing to me! :) And, as others have done, I will share my work as well:
I Ran
I ran. As fast as I could run.
Some men and women in uniforms ran after me.
They shouted in a tongue I could not understand.
I ran.
Along the way I saw others, they were running with me.
A child, a father, a family. Running for their freedom.
“It will be better there” - that’s what they tell us.
“It won’t be so hard.”
“You won’t be so poor.”
I’ll finally be free.
I ran.
Then it happened.
The child fell.
Crying and hurt, bleeding where his knee hit the dusty, rocky ground.
He didn’t run anymore.
But I ran.
Something in my heart broke for him.
I wanted to stop but I knew I couldn’t.
I just ran.
The people in uniforms raced toward them,
Picking them up and dragging them back to that awful place.
But I just ran.
I couldn’t help it.
I couldn’t go back.
I couldn’t let them catch me.
So I ran.
I will never forget their faces.
We were friends, the other runners and I.
We were friends and I just ran.
We were brother and sister, but I just ran.
Now I work in the fields.
They pay me poorly - but it is enough to live.
They treat me badly, but I endure.
It is better than being back there.
I can eat.
I can live.
I can breathe, and I can run.
I can take care of my children.
My son, my daughter.
They can go to school.
Life is better for them here - they can run.
To this day I can’t forget - I won’t forget.
The face of that man and his son.
My friends.
I watched their tear stained faces as the border patrol led them away.
I could have tried to help.
And I just ran.
Okay… so I know this is the longest blog post ever… (haha, sorry! I hadn’t updated in a while, the blog was down, and I’m one of those crazy people who processes by writing… so I blog outside of this anyhow!)
Life at Ginghamsburg has been busy the past few weeks! I’ve spent a lot of time making and taking phone calls about the resources and services that we have available here at New Path (the Outreach ministries of the Church) and working with Paws4Hope, a pet food pantry and reduced fee veterinary clinic. I’ve been writing a lot of policy and procedures for the clinic, helping to get things organized for the new policy, and creating client files that we can refer to each month at the food pantry. In addition to all that, I’ve been working in the food pantry and on Monday nights at Gateway Cafe, a community dinner and interview process for the clothing ministry, food pantry, furniture ministry and much more! Last week at Gateway, we did an altar call during the worship portion of the evening and I had an opportunity to serve as one of the persons who would pray with people as they came forward. As a part of that, I had the opportunity to pray with three individuals who accepted Christ for the first time, and one young man who was rededicating his life to Christ! YAY GOD! :)
So… this probably is the longest blog post ever (sorry!) but it certainly was an update of what I’ve been up to lately, and the things that have touched my heart and life! :)
Blessings, grace, and peace to each of you, (and see you in 6 days interns!)
Lorrin"
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