Mother's Day

Mother's Day.

 It is both painful and beautiful.

  It is a time to make memories as well as remember.

   It brings me a lot of tears and also laughter.

    It is a time I reflect on my mom and miss her fiercely but also celebrate being a mom myself.

I must write about my mom, but also about being a mom, because I am in a new season of motherhood recently. So, mother's day is a time to reflect.

 I have written so many words about my mom, but there always seem to be new memories which surface or new thoughts of her as I cross new moments of mothering myself. I often wonder "Is this  how my mom felt during the days of raising teenagers?" I wonder if my mom cried in frustration or out of sadness in the quiet moments, but only shined her smile with us. And then I feel sad that I can't call her and ask her. I wish I could sit across the table from her, play one more round of Dutch Blitz with her and laugh over coffee. I wish I could ask her advice or at the very least, cry to her through these days of navigating new phases of mothering. While I am certain she didn't have an experience such as COVID-19, I am certain that I was a very emotional teenager (who, me?? ....)  and thus, would love to hear her wise words and know that she would pray for me as a mom through this time as well as for my emotional graduating Senior daughter. But wishing for all those things does not change the circumstance and every time the emotions surface, I find new ways to navigate them. I look for ways to celebrate her and keep her memory going or I find new photos and smile at the memory captured by such a photo.

 As mom, I am over emotional lately. (Who, me?? ) Elizabeth is graduating. I cry with her as she grieves over a lost prom, missing last days of walking the halls, and possibly no graduation ceremony. Yesterday, we drove through the high school parking lot to pick up her cap and gown - a no-contact way for the school to deliver the goods. Yet as we drove through the parking lot to pick up these items, faithful teachers, complete with masks, rang bells and cheered for the Seniors picking up their items. So much emotion coursing trough my veins. Moments of motherhood flashing before my eyes as I held back the tears.
 Mothering is hard. It is so very worth it, but it is hard. Each phase is so different, each phase has made me a better person. Each phase I have had total moments of failure,  but complete moments of joy, too.
  As I feel the sadness of what she is experiencing right now, I also watch with joy as she searches for ways to bless others during this time. This girl, always looking out for the less fortunate. I smile as I watch her mount the horses and canter across the ring. I smile as she talks animatedly about her dreams of upcoming college years and dorm rooms. I embrace the moment, because every moment lasts but a breath.

 When I lost mom, I learned that. I recall sitting at mom's bedside, reading while she slept. And I paused thinking, "This could be my last day with mom." But in that moment I also learned maybe it would be, but that means I need to enjoy this moment. And so in that moment, I did what mom loved doing- I sang to her. And in that, while she could not talk, somehow she was still teaching me. In mom's absence, I find little notes she had written through the years or old photos once forgotten and I recall her laughter, her joy and her ever positive attitude.. and I hear her voice and feel her with me. She isn't here, but she kind of is honestly. Her lessons live on in me.

 My son is fun and teaches me and challenges me in ways different from Elizabeth. He's quiet, but strong. He doesn't talk a lot, but when he does, I close my books and put away my phone because I know he wants to really share. He has a string of sarcasm but a love for stupid jokes, like me. With him, I often laugh over nothing at all, which leaves the two of us at times breathless. We usually don't even know what started it. He's my coffee buddy, offering to make me a cup and sitting with me to drink one himself. He challenges me with his independence, but I so look forward to what he will one day do. And I am so glad we have 2 more years left, because letting go as they move on to the next phase is not easy. It is kind of heartbreaking.

 So, this mother's day, I think about my mom and I am sad she is missing these milestone moments with me. But I am thankful for the lessons she taught me so I can work to teach my daughter "adult" lessons as she transitions.
  I am embracing a new season as a mom.
   Mother's Day is to celebrate my mom and all she taught me to be... and to celebrate the joy my own children bring me.

 Motherhood is...
painful and it is beautiful.
   It is hard and it is joyful.
     It is full of laughter and tears.

 Happy Mother's Day, Mom! No longer here, but forever in my heart.
     And I am so blessed to have my own two beautiful kids. I will take my time to remember my mom... but then I will laugh and enjoy the ever fleeting moments I have with my kids today.

The Little Things

It has been a bit since I've posted a blog about "the little things" in life that make me smile.

 It is important, especially in times like these, to focus on those moments because the "big things" certainly can become overwhelming and consuming. Thus, as I sit in my chair on this very rainy Friday in Ohio, I reflect on my week and some of the little things that have made me smile...

~ Ending the semester with a  4.0 in what began as my most challenging semester (and ended the same) ever. Proof that the harder it can be, the more it can push  me to grow.

~ Spending a day doing beauty masks and making pancakes and painting with my daughter

~ Playing games with the kids and laughing over nothing.

~ Discovering an old photo of me and mom I love, thanks to my sister for digging through her library of photos to find the original.

~ Finding more grey hairs on my head :) And embracing it!

~ Good friends willing to collaborate with all my dreamy ideas for the foundation Footprints with Hope

~ TRX Straps! Thanks to a kind soul from a local gym who is lending them to me, I can get back to that workout after (far too much) time off from strength training.

~ Journals and gel pens. I love penning my thoughts in the old fashioned way. I want to remember these days of strange times and forced changes even if they are hard because they are pushing me to grow and I don't want to forget.

~ Coffee. Can I say coffee every time? I miss my coffee dates with friends so much. But I love holding the cup of joy in the morning hours or over a Zoom call or after dinner to wind down.

 It's the little moments which so easily can slip through the cracks of the days and the frustrations and I don't want to blink and miss them and wish I'd better embraced those things each day. Life is a journey, especially right now. The growth is hard but will be beautiful in time. I am thankful for the little things, one day at a time.

April Reflections

Sunday, April 26

 Dear "Diary": or in this case, "Dear World"
     It feels like day 4,356 of the COVID 19 Virus and I've yet to really write about it. In these 6 weeks of quarantine, I have been writing, but the thoughts have gone so deep at times, it's difficult to put the words out there for others and often times difficult to understand them myself.

    So, today I sit here to share. Likely a lengthy post, if you make it through it. But one hopefully worth the read. For me, a way to process, and always a time to understand deeper what I am learning.

    At the beginning of March I was in Colombia with the members of the board of Footprints with Hope. It was an incredible trip, and during that trip, we were discussing Corona Virus and our thoughts about it. However, little did we know the way it would change our lives upon our return. I still work to process my thoughts from that trip because as soon as we came home, life turned upside down. The truth is, much of what I learn in Colombia, now in some ways, people here are finally seeing and experiencing in our own back yard, even if in a different kind of way. When I am there, we don't live by our clocks so much. We see poverty. We experience a way which causes us to reflect on life so differently. Now, quarantined and the differences between social classes being so exposed here, we are also made to look at life differently.

  Looking at life differently comes with challenges, but also perhaps may be a healthy thing for all of us to do. So, what can I share about my time in quarantine these months... what am I learning, seeing, feeling and how am I growing?

  Well, both of my classes at the University switched from in person to online. This virus has forced everyone to change the way of doing daily activities and we've learned how possible we can make that be when necessary. It can be a good thing in some ways and open new doors of opportunity in the world of online learning. That came with challenges - especially being in a cooking class! However, we have navigated that. In some ways, it has felt like the world's longest semester, though. Today it completes and I am so happy for that. Interestingly enough, one class was a Human Rights class and I learned things that could make its own blog. Hardest class ever, but one of my most worthwhile. And being in quarantine, with so much time to think, it has been profoundly deeper of an impact, I believe. The virus has highlighted so desperately the needs of this world in new ways. Experiencing a pandemic that isn't just touching our community or maybe a community of a friend but the ENTIRE world! It is a time to connect globally in ways our world has not done for many years. I have always had a passion for other cultures and the world as a whole, and I feel this situation is shedding light and producing a new understanding. There can be beauty found in this. Simultaneously my heart is breaking for those I want to help so badly but don't know how.

  My daughter is missing out on the end of her Senior Year. She  has struggled with this in certain aspects, but handles it like a champ in others. We have no idea when her graduation will be, with 3 back up dates they have created. We can't really plan her graduation party very well. She's missing prom and senior walk and making those memories with her friends in the halls and classrooms in their last year together. For a 17 year old, it is a milestone. It certainly has become one she will never forget. For a 17 year old, the future is uncertain anyway, and right now even more so. As a mom, we've waited years for this time for her, so it is a little sad for me, too. However, do you want to know the beauty of it? At the beginning of her senior year, I was longing for more time with her. Just a few more shared moments in lieu of looking at her leaving. And the pandemic has given me that. We've done beauty masks and puzzles and watched shows and talked about the future and politics and dreams and hurts. These are days which will never be given back. I cherish them with her.

  Work has had its challenges. So many challenges. I have been stretched in new ways, but also it has given me time to think about the work environment and goals and dreams I want to achieve there. We also have learned  how to work remotely, which is a positive. Not being together consistently has pushed me to learn to communicate in a different way, at times harder, but healthy. We face the possibility of our event not even taking place- the thing we work day to day for year in and out. That comes with heartache too, thinking over that. Yet I think it also brings perspective. What we do on a daily basis (to make a living) does make an impact and a difference, but it puts into perspective priorities too.

 Let's get real here... I wrestle with anxiety and depression and if I am being super honest with you, during these weeks it has been awful. I have had to force myself out of bed at times. I have made myself reach out to people in moments I am feeling the worst struggles. I'm trapped with my thoughts, which can spiral me in a dark direction sometimes. I run outdoors more than ever right now, which helps me more than words can explain, but doesn't take the struggle away. I've learned how to fight it, but I face it more than ever during this time. I am not afraid of the virus. I am not scared of the illness. I am heartbroken for the lost and the poor. I also have zero control over the situation. Faced with thoughts and emotions I can often bury in the midst of work or helping others (without realizing I am doing that) during these weeks I've had no choice but to process those often suppressed emotions. I want to understand them, but they are painful to process. Facing them is hard, to say the least. I am a people person, I get my energy from others and helping others and so, while there are ways to do that through this, the reality of facing the darker emotions are highlighted. I'm just being real.

 However, through these days, I have determined that I want to grow and learn and use this time which will never be given back. I made a list of home projects, but that hasn't happened. But is that really the important task right now? For me, probably not.
  There is progress being made on administrative things for Footprints with Hope foundation, and that is a positive. We have to pass through a quiet season right now, so this is a good time to accomplish behind the scenes tasks.
       I have been doing more writing, even if just for myself.
  I have been running more again, which is purely for me. Not for a race nor for being with others, but to fight my mental struggles and to purely enjoy who I am. My running times are my peaceful moments, my time to process and to be "free". I have really enjoyed being able to do more distance again.
         I have been savoring moments with the kids through this time. That matters more to me than any house project ever could.
   I've been praying a lot. Having time with my creator. He says "Be Still and Know that I am God."  He asks us to be still. I don't do it well. In this time, it is forcing me into a stillness of sorts that I've never done. And it's driving me deeper in love with Him. Yes, I struggle with the emotional realities of depression and anxiety. But do you know who is in the depths of that with me? Jesus. And thus, I grow closer to Him even when it is a time of upheaval. I love that. He really has pushed me to stand still.
      Connecting virtually. We live in a technology driven world that can serve as a distraction. However, during these times, I have found a lot of joy through it. Church is online, which i desperately miss in person, but I am thankful for it nonetheless. I also can join in with my Colombian friends every Sunday, which I am loving. They are virtually meeting every Sunday, a newer thing for them to do, and I love it. All the pastors get together over the 30 some churches and I love joining them in their services.
     Also, not totally on purpose, but I have reconnected with childhood friends. I had such a fun childhood, full of good memories and laughter. It has been fun to remember things and reconnect.

 There is always good to be found in the challenges. My ever wise daughter, an essential worker right now in the grocery store, along with my son, who also works there, shared a statement with me yesterday. She said " Mom, this customer was telling me how awful this virus has been for her and how she has it so bad. But mom, we all have our own struggles we are facing through this time. Everyone has to face something through this that is hard. I feel for her, but we all are struggling."
     She is right. I have a bucket of blessings in the midst of this, with a job and health and provisions. I face my own struggles. But so does every person going through this. This is a time for us to pause and learn.
   What can I do differently when this time ends? How will life change because of these weeks of quarantine and stillness? How can I take these lessons that feel overwhelming at times and produce a better version of me? And with that better version of me, how can I impact those around me so that life, looking differently when this passes, can be a good kind of different?

 I could go on about this. These are thoughts partially produced through these events for me. Deep. Often very deep, which makes it hard to put it to "paper" to sort them out.  april has been a very long month. But I know that darker times, hard circumstances, always produce growth. You cannot see the seed in the soil as it grows and blooms, but once the crop breaks ground, you watch it become a plant and a product which makes a difference. That is where we are... seeds in the ground, and soon we will see the beauty of the product if we are patient and willing.

   John 10:10 "The thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of."
      I close with a song that has come across my path through this time so that I don't forget this is part of what I am learning and want to embrace...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKpEytickx4
         

Chasing my shadow

The wind whips around my skin. The sun is kissing the sky in a beautiful way. The deer are enjoying running through the woods. My shadow stretches across the ground in front of me. And I breathe in deeply the enjoyment of being outdoors running.

 In the midst of these times, I have to find the positives. I am an extrovert and I love being around people, so this time of being at home with family can have benefits in savoring the hours with the kids nearly grown, but also can provide challenges in my anxiety with lack of conversations over cups of coffee and sweet embraces. Running is a time of peace for me in the midst of these strange, ever-changing days.

 Over the last 10 years, I have really enjoyed running. Each season of those 10 years has held different reasons for the running being significant. I have come to learn much about myself through the process, developed a sense of confidence I didn't know existed within me; found a career and worked my way up the ladder through that; fought anxiety and depression with the weapon of mind over matter and getting out to run; made some great friends; crossed a few finish lines; and most of all, have become a better version of me.

 The challenge for me over the last year is that between schooling, work, family and mission work, while I have still exercised, it's been more of a robotic act than one of pure enjoyment. These days are allowing me to find that enjoyment again.

 I've never been a fast runner. Running is work for me. But the sense I feel when I am out there doing it is is one that cannot come from a spin class nor a weight training session. However, in regards to my running, I am going to be honest here. Over the last year, I've let several comments affect my desire to get out and run, let alone blog about it as much. But, I'm over that, so I'm going to share.

 I've heard things (when discussing my run time) "Oh, I pace the slow people!"  or comments like "I can't wait to have another runner around"  or "That's it? You only did 2 miles?" or "What was your time" to which I would be embarrassed to answer.
  I'm paraphrasing, but I've also been told that perception is reality and those words and more said have affected my mindset of pushing through the challenges to do something I love simply for the sake of doing it. Yes, I have had extra activities affecting my ability to get out, but words play a huge role in my mindset and I let those take over for a time.

 However, in these days, I am returning to my roots. I am starting over again, essentially. I haven't lost my knowledge in how to run or what to do to improve. I may have lost my motivation for a time, though, in discouragement or in the business of daily life. Today I write to share for anyone out there doubting their ability : DON'T. I'm using this time of the world slowing down to rediscover that part of me. In those moments I think clearer. I feel the presence of the Creator. I find my confidence again. I remember why I began to fall in love with this sport in the first place. So, today I write to encourage those of you who may feel  you "can't" or that you are not a runner. It isn't about your speed. It's about your heart. So....

 Let the breeze tickle your skin, don't care about the speed.
    Watch the sun kiss the sky and slow down to take a picture of it.
Chase your shadow with the flag whipping in the wind behind you.
  Pause to stare back at the deer looking at you.
     Push through the "I don't like hills" and feel the burn in your legs bring you to life.
 Add an extra mile, even if it is at a walk pace.
    And most of all, as you run, let the words roll off your back into the wind and just allow yourself to be free and to be you.

 That is what running does for me. I am enjoying the daylight hours of running, certain that contributes to the joy of it for me. (As opposed to the 530 am dark and chilly wintery days). As much of an extrovert as I am, this space of running by myself is a savored moment I have severely missed . In times when it can be hard to find the positives, in times that my anxiety honestly has a tendency to be heightened, these are the moments that bring me into who I am, the moments that I am thankful for in the midst of these strange days of unknown- the quiet moments in dawn hours of running. And so, I will savor this. And whenever normal becomes back to normal, I hope to hang onto these lessons I am learning, one day at a time. Because when I run, it isn't just about being out running more miles again, it is about learning about my Creator, it is about learning my own self and pushing through the mind blocks that can come with the daily grind of life. And thus, I will chase my shadow in the early morning hours.... one day at  time...

 

9 Years Ago

Today the world is changing rapidly. The virus is captivating attention, causing fear and creating change on even an hourly basis. This is an event and a time that we will all remember the rest of our lives. 

  However, while there is seriousness to this topic, I find myself really wanting to talk about something besides the virus. Continuing life as normal as possible, whatever normal is. Normal changes rapidly, honestly.  Colombia is typically my go-to topic of choice as I continue growing and learning. Writing helps me process what I'm learning and share those lessons with others. However, today I want to write about my mom. 

 I have written countless stories about my mom and it often seems there may not be one left to share. Yet somehow, it feels there will never be ones I run out of, if that makes any sense. Today is a day that changed my world 9 years ago. Today, March 20, is the day that my mom went home to heaven. I have written many times about what that day was like. Today it is easy to recall the day as if I were living it out again. The details of those moments are ones forever engrained as part of my story. 

 

Today I watched a video play back of what we put together for mom's funeral. That's the story I want to talk about today. Yes, I get sad many times missing my mom. The ache of not having her when I am frustrated about work to call and share is an ache that physically hurts at times in my chest.  The tears fall when I feel sad and cannot call her. The joy I have when I get to do tasks I love, such as work on the foundation or travel to Colombia or plan a marathon - that joy that I cannot sit over coffee with my mom and tell her all about it does create heartache at times. And I allow for those moments because that is part of grief. I visited the cemetery today and let myself cry there. 

  

 But this moment, this is a moment to remember her with joy, too. The video brought back a lot of memories I hadn't thought about in a long time with her. First of all, my mom used to sing a song to me as a child each night before bed. Then she sang it to the grandkids as they were babies and growing up. She sang the song "I have decided to follow Jesus".  Mom lived out that decision in her every day life, reading her Bible, praying for others, inviting people over, sacrificing financially all the time when there was little to sacrifice. On the video, the grandkids, who mostly were fairly young, sang the song to begin the video of mom. 

 The video was a compilation of photos of mom's life. She grew up in Minnesota, where winter is brutal. But mom enjoyed winters. (She did not pass that on to me!) She was Sweedish, after all. There were photos of her ice fishing. There were also photos of her fishing in the summer time. One photo was from a time she took my dad up to the lake for a visit and he had fish as well. I can't ever really remember a time of my dad eating fish, let alone fishing. But there he was in the photo, grinning like a boy in love. That was their relationship... love and laughter. And doing things the other enjoyed. 

 There was a photo of mom and dad playing around like a cowboy saying "stick 'em up" (maybe today that is a rarity, but there was a time that was a game). Dad had a handkerchief around his face, mom, turning her head in laughter. Photos from their wedding, photos from our family growing up, all 4 of us kids. We didn't have many vacations, but there was a photo of us in Texas, where mom's parents lived for a time. I remember that vacation, where we traveled the 6 of us in the Chevy Impala hours and hours to arrive at Texas. I was very young, but I even recall on that trip crossing the border (on foot) into Mexico and visiting a little touristy area. 

  In the video was a photo of mom holding a trash can with a big bow on it. My mom was so simple and the smallest things made her smile. That was what she wanted for Christmas- a trash can. So that year we sent her on a treasure hunt for that can and once she finally got there, she seriously grinned as silly as the photo shows. 

  

 She loved children and children loved her. She taught Sunday School at church for nearly 40 years. She was an education major at Cedarville (College) University but chose to stay at home once she had children. The video has many photos of her holding my kids, my sister's kids and even other babies. You can see her attentively playing games with them. And always, always she had a smile. She liked to be silly, wearing tea party hats or making funny faces or telling stories that made everyone laugh. 

 Watching the video again reminded me of many stories of her life. She was the youngest of 7, with two sets of twins in that family. She was teased and the stories go on about the tricks they liked to play on her. However, they loved her fiercely and I really enjoy seeing the photos of her with her 6 siblings and how they even hovered a bit over her. 

 You see, while I feel I have shared many stories, the memories will always surface with more. Writing about them makes me smile about her instead of cry. Sharing about her life keeps her legacy alive. She is gone and I miss her fiercely. But her words and her memories burn inside me, keeping the smile that she had every day as a part of me as well. 

 People will often comment on my smile, when they see it genuinely, that it is a wonderful feature of mine. I got that from mom. Oh, my dad loves to laugh just as much... but the smile I have I contribute to my mom. 

 I miss her today, but I miss her every day. I hope that I never forget these stories and that we keep telling them and one day my kids tell them. I can hear her laugh when I see these photos. 

 9 years ago today I said goodbye to my mom. But she will forever be a part of my story that I will keep telling. 

Cartagena- Rich in Culture, Full of Love

The world is turning a little upside down right now and all of us likely feel a little out of sorts. However, I don't want to focus on the reasons for that in this blog. I write today to return to the stories of how my life got turned upside down when I became a part of Colombia... when I got wrecked as I wrote about in my last blog.

 This was my 7th trip there. Some have asked me if it becomes old or if I grow numb to what I see. My answer is no... and I hope that I never do. Each time I travel to Colombia, when I return to my home away from home, when I am wrapped in loving arms from my family in another country, my heart and eyes get opened in some new way. I get stretched, I learn, I cry, I laugh,  I am touched, and I am changed... every time.

 I can't figure out yet whether to capture in words in this blog my experiences day by day or just list out some of the more interesting ones little by little. This trip was full of "first" experiences for me, even though it was my 7th time there... This trip was a little different for me in that I took with me 3 others, James, Isaac, and Andy. James and Andy are part of then board of Footprints with Hope, the foundation we've established to begin doing deeper work in the villages/cities of Colombia. (our fourth board member could not go with us.) Isaac is the son of Andy. It was my first time doing that. Isaac and Andy have a way of story telling that can be deep in moments which touch the heart but can also be completely hilarious. We laughed a lot on this trip, thanks to their humor.

 I'll share the trip day by day and preface my "first" experiences with those words. Seriously, a blog does not do justice to these experiences.

 There is a first time for everything....
   1. When we finally got through the long line of customs, and to the counters, it was taking James forever to move through customs. James has been there as many times as I have, but each time he has only visited the same village. This was going to be his first of visiting other locations. But from the get-go, we called him the "problem child" on the trip. (He wasn't really, but every trip has one, so we gave that to him).  We all passed through customs quickly, but I noticed that James was taking a very long time at his counter.
 James does not speak Spanish, so I asked my lady who passed me through if I could go help him, as he'd been there some time. She said yes and when I moved over to his counter, the man checking him in to the country would not let him pass through because he didn't have a reservation number for the hotel where we were staying. Well, this was a first. They usually only ask for the name of the hotel. Props to the man for doing his job diligently, but... I could not understand this when the others of us passed through without that. well, in the end, the man called the hotel and confirmed that James was with me  and we were allowed through. Not a bad experience, just a little weird. We moved on for our luggage.

 2. First time for me to arrive to the carousel for luggage for it not to be there. Andy and Isaac had been waiting on us to come through, so they informed us. I spoke with the man at the carousel and was informed we had to go to the Delta office. Well, another first for me. Lesson here: always have good clothes in the carry on bag. Now, I've traveled enough to know this. I did have one outfit (simple running clothes and flip flops, of course) in my carry on. But our next day activity was going to be one in which I wanted to be dressed up. So... lesson learned. In all fairness, on this trip, we were taking a lot of books, heavy, and so in order to balance out the weight of the 2 suitcases, I stuck a fair amount of books in my carry on because clothes are lighter for the checked bags. Well.... lesson learned. But hey, it made for a fun excuse to get a little something new to wear ;)  This was the first for my luggage to not quite make it.
  In case you're wondering, the luggage didn't make it because our connecting flight was pretty tight and thus, our luggage did not make it not that flight. Kindly Delta delivered our suitcases to our hotel when they arrived the next day.

3. Another first for me- I was the full time translator on this trip. I have traveled there by myself without a translator, but on this trip, I was the translator for everyone with me, navigating all the conversations. This is both exciting and well, I also felt nervous, insufficient to do so. There is a great way to learn- jump in and do it!

                                                            Day 1. Sunday. Cartagena
 Cartagena is full of culture. There are bright colors, live music, awesome food and so much rich history. Although I've stayed there several times, on this trip, I saw more of the city than before and we got to experience many restaurants and explore a bit more the ideas and the history of the city. Andy and I will lead a team there in October with Footprints with Hope through the Restoration Park Church and we are quite excited. We had fun exploring the city in new ways, navigating ideas for what or where we can go with the team in October.
      After a fun evening Saturday night exploring Old City, we left Sunday morning from the hotel to attend Flor de Campo, the church in Cartagena. We were welcomed with open arms. I felt like I was in my own church, welcomed with hugs and kisses and kind words. These friends have become family and it was wonderful to be back. Being the translator was a new experience for me. I was up front with Bishop, translating the sermon and then later translating all of the conversations and the very cool things the church is doing there in Cartagena.
  When the service ended, they broke into small classroom settings. This is the ministry in the little area of Flor de Campo with the kids, Voces Invisibles, Voces de Todos, some of whom are migrants from Venezuela. They are taught photography, and on this day they were taking actual printed snapshots of their small city blocks (as we would think of ) and placing them on a paper, mapping and drawing them out. They were learning how to use photography to understand their own space of living.
 They were learning guitar, drums, singing, literature, reading and through all of these avenues they are taught their rights, they are taught their roots and their history and they are taught how to live life abundantly and make better choices. To see all of this was beautiful, to see the joy these kids have, and an avenue to grow in a healthy environment off the streets.

 Next we ate lunch together in the pastoral parsonage. While we finished lunch and enjoyed tinto (coffee) we listen to Bishop and the girls who were preparing a cultural dance for us banter back and forth about whose dance was best- Salsa, from Cali, Bishop's home town, or the other dances of the other cities like Cumbia, and  Maplé. Listening to them was quite comical and that banter continued on the whole week every time the topic arose.
  Which led us to the next moment of the gals presenting dances for us. They gave a little intro to each one, what the background and the history to the dance was, why it was original to its location and how they used it as an expression of their culture, their history and their lives. They prepared 3 different ones for us. We really enjoyed this.

 Lastly, after many photos and much laughter, we were able to enjoy one more "show". There is a small band called Ninguneados, who you can see here who performed for us for a bit. They shared their story, how they use their music to be the voice for those who do not have a voice. Their name Ninguneados is based on this poem. Their music is beautiful and powerful.

 After that, we visited the home briefly of one of those band members and then made our way back to the hotel. From the hotel we went back out into the city and enjoyed another meal in another new location, exploring the possibilities and also reminiscing about the day and the ideas our foundation was beginning to form through the little bit of exposure.

 By the way, Cartagena is the location of launching our first pilot program with the women. We are half way to our funding for that. If you're interested in donating towards it or want to know more, please go here to donate.  We are looking for partners in our mission to bring hope to Colombia, one step at a time!  You also can find more information on our facebook page, with more videos at Footprints with Hope facebook

 PS. Please forgive the messiness of these photos... there is a work in progress in bettering the blog site. Enjoy the photos!

 
 

Wrecked

Have you ever been wrecked by an experience?
 Seen something that changed your world view? Met a person who challenged your thought process? Or perhaps had an experience that even was difficult to pass through but changed you for the better?

 Wrecked.

 It is a word drawn from a book I recently read. The book in fact is called Wrecked.  By Jeff Goins. And it is about "when a broken world slams into your comfortable life."

  People often wonder or ask me why I go to Colombia so often?

 It is because I was wrecked by that experience. And being wrecked changed my world forever.

  The first time I went to Colombia in 2016, it changed my perspective forever. I'd always had the desire to do work in a Latin American country. But the experience I had there wasn't just about the one time event. I was told in preparation for that time we would have there, that I would feel and see differently upon my arrival home. The challenge would be when I come home how to take that feeling and not let it fade, but to let being "wrecked" make a change for the future.

 I didn't always understand that. I would come home each time I visited and feel such a deep need to make a difference. To be different myself.  I wanted to implement here what I learned there. However, in a different culture, like our go-go-go and plan-plan-plan culture, putting those lessons to practice becomes extremely challenging. I never do it super well. Yes, I get wrecked every time I go. In a different kind of way each time. But when I want to do it here at home in the states, it is very hard.

 But through these few years of traveling there, expanding into different villages, Footprints with Hope, the non-profit foundation I founded has come to life. That is what being wrecked has done to me. It has brought the desire to life, to work towards a change because I was changed. The foundation has become an effect of being wrecked. Through the foundation, we hope to help change the lives of the women living in Colombia who have experienced violent situations and are looking and longing for ways to crawl out of those, but haven't had a hand to help them do so. And through that, more people are going to get to experience being "wrecked". Both the women in Colombia and those who will have the opportunity to begin traveling with our group. And I hope when they do, they will want to come home and make a change. Not a temporary one, but one that will carry out the work of Jesus in new ways, ways unique to each of them.

 We all have unique gifts. Thus, when being wrecked, how that will play out will look different.

 So, ask me why I keep going back to Colombia...

 It is a calling, yes. A desire to help spread the love of Jesus through acts of service and a simple "show up and be there", which makes others know they matter. But I go back, and I began the foundation, because when I was wrecked, I knew I never wanted to go backwards. I wanted to make a change. Not for my sake, but for the reason of spreading the love of Jesus with the gifts He has given me.

 Tomorrow I leave once again to go to the beautiful country. We are working as the foundation to launch our first project, which will be an 8 month program for women. We will be teaching them a trade, a job skill. They will get time with a psychologist, who will help them work through their past, their hurts, their insecurities. They will learn financial management. And we will put together their stories in a book. They will have dance therapy. To do this program, the cost is roughly $5,700. We have begun the process of raising that money.
 Tomorrow I take 2 of the 3 board members with me. We will visit locations, talk about the program, meet those who will implement it in our absence. We will visit a village which I have not yet seen, which does intense work with the Venezuelan migrants. I go back because those people matter. I go back because I was wrecked and don't want to ever lose what I have learned through that. I go back because those women are valuable. And I am excited to share my experiences with others to see how when they get wrecked how God will take that and use it for His good.

   I can't wait to share about the experiences post trip.... and how I get wrecked this time around.