Hello again, dearest friends and family.
By now, if you are still actively reading this blog you're must be someone who loves me. However, if you happen to be a random blog-stalker welcome...you too will soon fall in love with me.
Oh. Recommended music of this post is Seeing Angles by John Butler. Open in a seperate window and read the blog of optimal performance.
I am now officially over the one month hump of living here at CLM (hold your applause). So I am going to attempt an objective reflection on the past 30 days - much like CNN is probably doing for our President's first 100 days about now... (btw, Obama's first 100 days mean nothing... because none of the issues infront of him were ever achievable in a 100 days. Stop trying to make news out of nothing, Wolf Blitzer)
Let's keep this brief... due to my weariness, I cannot produce full, coherent, correctly spelled sentences at the moment. (as evidenced by my last blog post - sorry again Flavio and Gee).
Week 1 at CLM
The defining question of my first week at CLM was "what exactly have I gotten myself into?"
The answer... I found heaven on earth. It's a dirty, sloppy, snotty, poopy, teary, screaming, cluttered, and chaotic heaven, but I swear to you there is a special kind of down-in-the-dirt love here that lifts you up. It's tangible (and tastes like rice and beans).
Weeks 2-3 at CLM
The central question of my middle few weeks became "Can I do this?" Can I actually do all that needs done her... Can I do all the work that needs done? (there's a lot and always more) Can I fix what needs fixed? (there's a lot and always more). Can I hug everyone who needs hugged (there's a lot and always more) Can I help who needs helped - both child and adult? (We all need alot and always more). Can I actually love and give and do it fully everyday to the point of literal exhaustion? (Speaking of exhaustion - every pop star who has ever been hospitalized for exhaustion need to be kicked in their boney arse, given a cracker, and forced to come here to work for a few months - forward this to Lindsey Lohan if you have her email address).
The answer, by the way, is YES I can do this...and its only by the grace, energy, and creativity of the Mothership (Nate Johnson's nickname of God) that am I able to do any of it. I honestly don't feel like I am living for myself here...my internal understanding of the word "myself" has taken on plural meaning. Community and unity don't even fit this feeling...it's not just that I feel close to the people here.... I feel like a cell or an organ of a larger living thing. It's a bizarre feeling...so completely the inverse of my life just 6 months ago that I don't think Rebirth is too strong a word.
I am now officially over the one month hump of living here at CLM (hold your applause). So I am going to attempt an objective reflection on the past 30 days - much like CNN is probably doing for our President's first 100 days about now... (btw, Obama's first 100 days mean nothing... because none of the issues infront of him were ever achievable in a 100 days. Stop trying to make news out of nothing, Wolf Blitzer)
Let's keep this brief... due to my weariness, I cannot produce full, coherent, correctly spelled sentences at the moment. (as evidenced by my last blog post - sorry again Flavio and Gee).
Week 1 at CLM
The defining question of my first week at CLM was "what exactly have I gotten myself into?"
The answer... I found heaven on earth. It's a dirty, sloppy, snotty, poopy, teary, screaming, cluttered, and chaotic heaven, but I swear to you there is a special kind of down-in-the-dirt love here that lifts you up. It's tangible (and tastes like rice and beans).
Weeks 2-3 at CLM
The central question of my middle few weeks became "Can I do this?" Can I actually do all that needs done her... Can I do all the work that needs done? (there's a lot and always more) Can I fix what needs fixed? (there's a lot and always more). Can I hug everyone who needs hugged (there's a lot and always more) Can I help who needs helped - both child and adult? (We all need alot and always more). Can I actually love and give and do it fully everyday to the point of literal exhaustion? (Speaking of exhaustion - every pop star who has ever been hospitalized for exhaustion need to be kicked in their boney arse, given a cracker, and forced to come here to work for a few months - forward this to Lindsey Lohan if you have her email address).
The answer, by the way, is YES I can do this...and its only by the grace, energy, and creativity of the Mothership (Nate Johnson's nickname of God) that am I able to do any of it. I honestly don't feel like I am living for myself here...my internal understanding of the word "myself" has taken on plural meaning. Community and unity don't even fit this feeling...it's not just that I feel close to the people here.... I feel like a cell or an organ of a larger living thing. It's a bizarre feeling...so completely the inverse of my life just 6 months ago that I don't think Rebirth is too strong a word.
A Small Example of a Large Transformation?
Many of you know my problems with mornings and my absolute love-affair with sleep. Well, it may shock you to know that I have seen the sun rise every morning this week and most mornings since I have been here. I am up at 5:45am everyday to pick up our nurse, I drink coffee and study portuegeuese till 7:30, I work outside or in the kitchen till 10 or 11. Then, I shower and prepare to work/play with the kids until bed time. I finally get to sleep about midnight - after I pick up our older girls from night class and send a few emails (It's 10:18 as I write this). Oh, and I have started sleeping in my jeans and hoodie - as a time saver and warmth saver for the mornings (I also did this as a child. You should try it. I think I was ahead of time in elementary school). Where does this energy and zeal to get out of bed come from...? Certianly, no me - that's for sure.
I am not sure I can adequately reflect on my time here yet - think it might take me months and years to full understand this place, these people, and myself*. My ability to reflect on what is happening here feels childlike and silly - like I am trying to run backwards in a marathon so I can see all the people behind me. With each awkward backward-step-forward another runner passes me until I am in last place and the race has passed me by. Anyway, I feel changed here... I feel like a monk or soldier or an humanoid robot...and at the same time I feel exactly like myself*- a stripped-down, foundational version of myself - raw and honest and strong and humbly confused. My wants and desires (other than coffee) are falling from my mind like dead leafs from the branches of a tree (TV, Music, Sex, Booze, Movies, Books, School, Work, Cloths, Looks are gone)...perhaps making space for good fruta? (a lil wink to Jesus - if ya didn't know)
Today and beyond
The question now has become "What is the best way to do life here?" What is the best way to organize my time? What is the best way for me to interact with each individual kid? What are the needs, the shortfalls, the achievements, the likes, the dislikes of each girl and boy? What can I say or do for the missionaries that will best lighten their load and fill their souls? Basically, what is the best way to love?
The ANSWER alludes my intellectual grasp, however, the ANSWER does find me - periodically .The ANSWER likes to sneak into simple moments during my day... fleeting perhaps, but powerful. Today, it was a 3 minute twirling hug with Caroline. Letting Arivaldo listen my Ipod while we worked as a reward for straight A's this grading period. Picking up trash around the swings. Meeting the older girls' teenage attitudes with a Portuguese quip - which left them surprised and grinning. These moments hit me like shining, inspiration fairies dive-bombing my brain from the heavens.
I am sincerely not in control when the moment is RIGHT. But when the moment is WRONG I feel myself actively thinking...actively trying... acting like I think I should act....rather than just acting out of love. Showers today was a WRONG moment.... One of the boys (12) was bullying a smaller boy (5) and instead of seeking wisdom or creativity to address the situation... I grabbed The Older Boy by the back of neck and pulled him back with force. I didn't hurt him and I know my touch wasn't painful - but it was forceful. At the moment, my heart jumped out for the Lil Boy and my rage jumped out toward The Older Boy. However, This Older Boy may be 12 years old in reality but he is probably on 8 years old emotionally. He came from a street gang as a child where was abused and bullied and beat up....and he survived because he learned to adapt to that world. He acted the way he did because someone bullyed him, hit him, abused him - maybe his dad or an older gang member. And so when I met this behavior with force...instead of love...instead of humor....instead of guidance - I just added to his life history of violence. Living here is a battle of to find the creative, loving, thoughtful ways to defuse violence, loathing, depression, and chaos. I am learning how a little more everyday. Or is it that everyday the ANSWER is finding me more?
Mike, Mary, and I had lunch today....
I just want to say how much I love Mike and Mary. I am in awe of their teaching skills, their marriage, their friendship, their love for the kids, their insight into CLM, and their constant and perfectly-timed support of me. I look forward to my greetings from Mary everyday (I miss them terribly while they are away this month). At least twice a day, Mary stops me and with a sincere and glowing smile, she says "How ya doing?". Now her "How ya doing" isn't like your normal pass someone in the hallway "How ya doing?". Her smile, and eyes, and voice say more than "How ya doing?" it says "Patrick, I care about you and I worry about you. I appreciate you and I want you to know that I am thinking about you. Please tell me what's on your heart and what's bouncing around in your head... I truly want to know and I care." - that's tangible love, folks.
During lunch, Mary and Mike were bouncing back and forth with insights and stories about CLM and the kids (sometimes when they get going on a story they tell it to together - trading sentences with out missing a beat - that's tangible marital love). During our conversation they said this (paraphrased)....
Mike: Working here has redefined grace for me... It's easy to look at our kids and where they come from and see the connection between their pasts and their behavior. But working you here, you realize that our kids with problems become adults with problems. When an adult acts out abusively or sexually, we usually think it's a cop out to blame their childhood experiences. But here you get to see the lasting effects of abuse on children, and it forces you to extend grace further...to more and more adults who do terrible things.
Mary: You'll notice the I am always hugging the kids or putting my arm around the kids...it's because I thought one day, "How many bad touches have our kids had?" Whether the bad touches were physical, sexual, or physcological? How many bad touches have they experienced in their lives? And how many of my loving touches will it take to erase the bad ones from their minds? Home many times do I have to hug a child before they feel loved and they know that God loves them? So everyday I try to give all our kids good touches so some day, however long it takes, they can understand real love.
Me...reflecting.
Many of you know my problems with mornings and my absolute love-affair with sleep. Well, it may shock you to know that I have seen the sun rise every morning this week and most mornings since I have been here. I am up at 5:45am everyday to pick up our nurse, I drink coffee and study portuegeuese till 7:30, I work outside or in the kitchen till 10 or 11. Then, I shower and prepare to work/play with the kids until bed time. I finally get to sleep about midnight - after I pick up our older girls from night class and send a few emails (It's 10:18 as I write this). Oh, and I have started sleeping in my jeans and hoodie - as a time saver and warmth saver for the mornings (I also did this as a child. You should try it. I think I was ahead of time in elementary school). Where does this energy and zeal to get out of bed come from...? Certianly, no me - that's for sure.
I am not sure I can adequately reflect on my time here yet - think it might take me months and years to full understand this place, these people, and myself*. My ability to reflect on what is happening here feels childlike and silly - like I am trying to run backwards in a marathon so I can see all the people behind me. With each awkward backward-step-forward another runner passes me until I am in last place and the race has passed me by. Anyway, I feel changed here... I feel like a monk or soldier or an humanoid robot...and at the same time I feel exactly like myself*- a stripped-down, foundational version of myself - raw and honest and strong and humbly confused. My wants and desires (other than coffee) are falling from my mind like dead leafs from the branches of a tree (TV, Music, Sex, Booze, Movies, Books, School, Work, Cloths, Looks are gone)...perhaps making space for good fruta? (a lil wink to Jesus - if ya didn't know)
Today and beyond
The question now has become "What is the best way to do life here?" What is the best way to organize my time? What is the best way for me to interact with each individual kid? What are the needs, the shortfalls, the achievements, the likes, the dislikes of each girl and boy? What can I say or do for the missionaries that will best lighten their load and fill their souls? Basically, what is the best way to love?
The ANSWER alludes my intellectual grasp, however, the ANSWER does find me - periodically .The ANSWER likes to sneak into simple moments during my day... fleeting perhaps, but powerful. Today, it was a 3 minute twirling hug with Caroline. Letting Arivaldo listen my Ipod while we worked as a reward for straight A's this grading period. Picking up trash around the swings. Meeting the older girls' teenage attitudes with a Portuguese quip - which left them surprised and grinning. These moments hit me like shining, inspiration fairies dive-bombing my brain from the heavens.
I am sincerely not in control when the moment is RIGHT. But when the moment is WRONG I feel myself actively thinking...actively trying... acting like I think I should act....rather than just acting out of love. Showers today was a WRONG moment.... One of the boys (12) was bullying a smaller boy (5) and instead of seeking wisdom or creativity to address the situation... I grabbed The Older Boy by the back of neck and pulled him back with force. I didn't hurt him and I know my touch wasn't painful - but it was forceful. At the moment, my heart jumped out for the Lil Boy and my rage jumped out toward The Older Boy. However, This Older Boy may be 12 years old in reality but he is probably on 8 years old emotionally. He came from a street gang as a child where was abused and bullied and beat up....and he survived because he learned to adapt to that world. He acted the way he did because someone bullyed him, hit him, abused him - maybe his dad or an older gang member. And so when I met this behavior with force...instead of love...instead of humor....instead of guidance - I just added to his life history of violence. Living here is a battle of to find the creative, loving, thoughtful ways to defuse violence, loathing, depression, and chaos. I am learning how a little more everyday. Or is it that everyday the ANSWER is finding me more?
Mike, Mary, and I had lunch today....
I just want to say how much I love Mike and Mary. I am in awe of their teaching skills, their marriage, their friendship, their love for the kids, their insight into CLM, and their constant and perfectly-timed support of me. I look forward to my greetings from Mary everyday (I miss them terribly while they are away this month). At least twice a day, Mary stops me and with a sincere and glowing smile, she says "How ya doing?". Now her "How ya doing" isn't like your normal pass someone in the hallway "How ya doing?". Her smile, and eyes, and voice say more than "How ya doing?" it says "Patrick, I care about you and I worry about you. I appreciate you and I want you to know that I am thinking about you. Please tell me what's on your heart and what's bouncing around in your head... I truly want to know and I care." - that's tangible love, folks.
During lunch, Mary and Mike were bouncing back and forth with insights and stories about CLM and the kids (sometimes when they get going on a story they tell it to together - trading sentences with out missing a beat - that's tangible marital love). During our conversation they said this (paraphrased)....
Mike: Working here has redefined grace for me... It's easy to look at our kids and where they come from and see the connection between their pasts and their behavior. But working you here, you realize that our kids with problems become adults with problems. When an adult acts out abusively or sexually, we usually think it's a cop out to blame their childhood experiences. But here you get to see the lasting effects of abuse on children, and it forces you to extend grace further...to more and more adults who do terrible things.
Mary: You'll notice the I am always hugging the kids or putting my arm around the kids...it's because I thought one day, "How many bad touches have our kids had?" Whether the bad touches were physical, sexual, or physcological? How many bad touches have they experienced in their lives? And how many of my loving touches will it take to erase the bad ones from their minds? Home many times do I have to hug a child before they feel loved and they know that God loves them? So everyday I try to give all our kids good touches so some day, however long it takes, they can understand real love.
Me...reflecting.
I am like a silent sponge around Mike and Mary. I just want to soak up their wisdom and their light so maybe i can squeeze a little of it out for someone else. I think what I am trying to say (so much for brief - once again) and I think what Mike and Mary do and say everyday is what early Christians called the 3rd way. Some primal instinct inside of us demands that we respond in life with either - fight or flight. Neither are good options... Today, I grabbed a kid by the back of the neck to protect a smaller kid = FIGHT. I could have done nothing and just let the tussle subside = FLIGHT. Or I could have gotten creative and loving and found the 3rd way. Tomorrow, I will hunt for the ANSWER again. As I have said before, I am prepared for the long defeat working here at CLM. It's a constant battle between giving up and exploding with frustration...but really its a big game of find the 3rd way. Don't get mad...get creative. Don't yell....laugh. Don't nap alone...lay in the yard with the kids and dogs. The ANSWER is the 3rd way. The 3rd way is creative love. And God is love. I am learning that if you look for the 3rd way, it has a way of finding you.
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