Finding Mary

I showed up at an outreach that Thanksgiving morning with my “Martha” apron on. I was ready to mash potatoes, serve green beans, wash the dishes, even scrub the toilets. But I had never met the guy in charge, and he mistook me for a “Mary” and sent me out to the streets.

I walked for about an hour, inviting those along the way to a warm meal. Then I saw her. She was half bent over, talking desperately into the payphone to the voice on the other line. I waited at a distance until she hung up. I invited her to dinner, and she said yes without hesitation.

We walked and talked like old friends, and she tore my Martha apron right off. By the time we reached the church I knew her story, even the most intimate and painful details. The next night she came over for dinner at my house, and on Sunday I picked her up for church.

She became a friend. Not a project. Not someone to fix; someone to love.

For a while Rachel was a big part of my life. I can’t say for sure if she was changed by me, but I was certainly changed by her.

On Sundays I would pick her up from the house where she was staying. She shared the home with dozens of other people and slept on the couch in the living room. Usually my arrival would be her alarm clock. I would step over passed out bodies and wait patiently on the couch while she dressed. Some days her dreadlocked roommate would sit and smoke and challenge himself to a game of chess while chatting with me about life and love and God.

Then one morning, a few months into our friendship, I went to pick her up and she was gone. No doubt her adventurous spirit moved her on to the next unknown.

I still think of Rachel and say a prayer for her from time to time. And when I do I remember how thankful I am for my friend who helped teach me what it means to love my neighbor.

The Martha in me had always led me to serve my neighbor naturally. But my friendship with Rachel taught me that love is not always about what I can give or do, but rather about what we can share. Sometimes it is something tangible, like a warm meal, clean water, or a bus ticket. But more often love finds itself in places like open conversation, laughter, and shared silence between friends.

"As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, 'Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!'

'Martha, Martha,' the Lord answered, 'You are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed- or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.'"

Luke 10:38-42

The C Word

This week I was asked to house/animal sit, and in exchange they allowed me to have a couple of the girls I mentor over to go swimming yesterday.

Two weeks ago I helped the woman I live with paint the New York skyline for her church's VBS. As a thank you to her for all the work she did, they gave her a giftcard to the Olive Garden. And to thank me she invited me and the girls to go out to dinner last night.

It kinda feels like that thing...

You know...what's that word?

Its that thing where you help others out when they need it, and then they help you out, just because they can...

I think it starts with a C....

Oh, yeah.

Community.

Today it Happened...

You will all be happy to know that today it happened...

As I, Miss Independent, was walking back to my car, a kind stranger from across the parking lot came and asked me if he could help load my 44 pound bag of dog food into my trunk.

And I said yes, please, and thank you.

My faith in Community has been renewed.

And, naturally, I thought he was cute. My knight in shining armor.

Then he called me ma'am

The end.

Community at the Water Pump

Dikupita Madzi Ku Mpope....

These are words I will always remember from my time in Malawi. They mean "I am getting water from the water pump"...and in order to run a feeding center for 150 children, you must do this several times a day. In order to help me learn the language of Chichewa (Chiwe), the women at the feeding center in Mponela would constantly ask me what I was doing, and very often, this was the answer.

Getting water from the water pump was a very physical task, but somehow it was an enjoyable task.

The water pump is a source of life for the village. It is where water, an essential for living is found. It is where, at anytime of day, you can go to get water, and meet a friend. It is a place for sharing stories and laughter, but more than that, the water pump is a place to experience community. 

After you walk to the water pump and pump the water into your bucket (and if you are an azungu like me are probably already exhausted at this point), you must then get the incredibly heavy bucket of water on your head.

Women carry heavy items on their heads for good reason...once you get it up there, it is much easier to carry, and if it is something like water, it is much easier to carry without spilling.

But first, there is the task of getting it up there.

Although I don't doubt that there are some African super women who are capable of getting the bucket on their head without help, it is a two person job.

As soon as your bucket is full, someone jumps in to help. There is no wait to watch you struggle. There is no wait to see if someone else will step up to help you. There is someone there, helping you lift it and place it centered on your head, with no questions, just a smile.

And although it may be someone you have never met, they are a friend.

The water pump is the center of life for a community, in more ways than one.

Miss Independent

Usually, I pride myself in being independent.

If there is something I have my heart set on doing, I do it, even if I can't find anyone to join me. If there is something that needs to be done, I do it, even if I have to do it alone. Even if it sucks.

I'd like to say it builds character.

I travel alone, I have gone to concerts alone, I volunteer alone, and being single have learned to do many things on my own that I probably wouldn't have otherwise. Shoot, I even moved to a foreign country alone. 

And, I buy dog food alone.

I know, I know, it doesn't sound like a big deal. But believe me, it kind of is.

I am 5'2", and the bag of dog food I buy stands at about 4'...and weighs 44 pounds. Over the years I have learned to maneuver the huge bag of dog food from the floor of the store up and over the side of my shopping cart, up and out of the cart into my trunk, and up and out of my trunk, through my front door, out my back door, and up and into my dog food bin. In all my stuggles, I have only ripped open the bag on the corner of the cart and spilled 44 pounds of dog food all over the store floor one time.

Yeah, that was a good day. 

Anyways, through my dog food struggles over the years, I have noticed many people watch me in sympathy, some of them maybe even tempted to help me, but none ever have. Not one person has ever asked if they could help me lift the bag that is half my size.

That is why yesterday, when I went to the store to get dog food, I knew I was in trouble. Having had surgery 2 weeks ago, 44 pounds is way beyond my weight limit. But thinking of those dozens of times over the years that no one has offered to help, I was hesitant to ask. I didn't want to be a nuisance. So, Miss Independent came out, and I didn't ask for help.

Don't worry, I didn't break doctor's orders. Instead I bought two 8 pound bags of fancy dog food (which together cost the same amount as the 44 pound bag) that I figure will last atleast a few weeks, when maybe I will be able to lift the monster sized bag again. My dog may be happy about me spending a lot more money for the good stuff, but me, not so much.

It makes me wonder, if we lived in a "community" based society, the kind that is a common theme in so much Christian literature nowadays, how things would be different.

Would I be scared to ask a stranger for a little help? Would I even need to ask? Would they even be called strangers?

And maybe, just maybe, if I didn't need to be so independent, I wouldn't be, and that would be okay.

It leaves me thinking...

Maybe rather than building character, independence builds walls.

Breaking the Cycle

This photo is more than just a picture.

Like I said this morning, this photo represents something that is amazing, beautiful, exciting, and a dream come true.

It is amazing because it is the result of hard work,

determination,

and the sacrifice

of many.

It is beautiful because it is the beginning.

Beginning of change

and new opportunities

for an entire community.

It is exciting because

I was part of this

 

and you were part of this.

We were part of making this dream come true.

And in February these children attended their first day of school here.

Which was their first day of school ever.

With a little help from money I raised, a lot of help from a local Zimbabwe church congregation, and this community of villages, we were able to start school for these rural families almost immediately. But this is just the beginning. These coverings are meant to be temporary. Permanent bathrooms have already been built, and we are hoping to build a permanent school here that will serve many generations to come.

Currently this school is giving 159 students first time educations, and I am told that there are more than 1,000 children from surrounding villages who are in need and waiting to attend as well.

These communities are amongst the poorest in Zimbabwe. They are set apart down dirt paths that are complicated to travel on.

 Many children among the current students are orphaned, and are trapped in a cycle of poverty.

But we are equipping them with tools that will enable them to

rise above and break the cycle of poverty.

Over the last three months I have been able to build a trustworthy relationship with New Life Church in Zimbabwe, who was given the vision of building this school. I am still working on joining with a non-profit ministry here to raise funds through, but I could not keep my secret any longer.

More information will be coming soon. Until then I ask that you would be praying about this opportunity to bring education to these villages, and that you would be searching your hearts to see if there is a way you would like to take part in this blessing.

The Perfect Fit

The elementary school where I work is located in an area of Fresno called Highway City.

Fresno in itself has many poor communities. Based on poverty/population ratio, it is actually the most impoverished city in the United States, and Highway City is one of the poorer areas of the city.

I feel as though the Highway City area is often overlooked because it is on the very western edge of town. Most people have no reason to go into the area, making it easily forgotten.

Today, though, the children of Highway City were remembered.

The local business called Granville Homes donated loads of coats for kids. Teachers have been taking notes as the weather has turned colder as to which students are in need of winter coats. And today every single one of those kids recieved one.

In our little autism classroom three of our students were blessed with big warm beautiful coats. The kind of coats that are well made, warm, and will last a long time. And it just so happens that the coats they were given were in their favorite colors. All three of them. One could call it a coincidence, but I will say that God cares so much about these little ones, that not only does he want them to stay warm and healthy, he wants them to feel beautiful and so very loved.

Our kids don't quite understand where these coats came from, but there was priceless joy as they put them on and pranced around the room.

So, thank you Granville Homes. Your gift of love was the perfect fit.

Community

When I moved to Zimbabwe in 2006, one of my main responsibilities there was to oversee the building of 3 homes.

The project was called "One Child at a Time", and it was a blessing project to be done in addition to the ministry Tecla does on a day to day basis.

Tecla's ministry is unique in a way that she has decided not to build an orphanage to care for the orphans she encounters. Instead she works to place them in loving homes, one child at a time.



In a country where there is no foster care system, God placed it on her heart to try to provide the best for these kids, which is family.

Surprisingly, in a country where the unemployment rate is 95%, Tecla does not have much difficulty finding loving parents to care for these orphaned children.

Before arriving in Zimbabwe, I was a bit worried that these children were being taken in by families who did not necessarily want to accept these kids as their own children, but rather take them in as workers. Although this option can be much better than what the children would face out on the streets, it is not the best that God desires for his kids.

When I arrived I discovered loving families who had taken in these children as their own. Some of them are related to the orphans they care for, some not. But what touched me the most was seeing the sacrifice this meant.

These families, all of them headed by single women, do not have a penny to spare. They do not have the option of buying more porridge to fill the hungry tummies. Instead they sacrifice their own. They do not house these children as slaves, but instead these women work twice as hard so that they too can attend school with their new siblings.




This is where Tecla comes in. She does not place these children into homes and then walk away. She continues to work with them and their families to make sure they are all provided for. Everything Tecla does on a day to day basis comes out of her own pocket. She works hard to run a business, but not to get rich. She works hard so she can ensure these families are provided for.

Tecla has taken on the role as a caregiver. These mothers try their best to care for their families, but at times this is impossible. Tecla will help provide food, clothing, medical treatment, and school fees as she can. She'll visit home to home, and see where her extra care is needed. But sometimes there are needs that she cannot meet.

For example, when a family is sleeping like sardines on a dirt floor, covered by a holey tin roof. "Houses" that welcome in centipedes, snakes, mosquitos, and scorpions, and offer no protection from intruders. The cost of providing healthy living conditions is a cost beyond what Tecla can provide. But the cost of not is something she cannot bare. This is where we decided to help.



Because of inflation rates we pushed to get the houses built as quickly as possible. I thought I was there for a year, but there was a sense of urgency to finish the homes. Now I understand why.

We were able to complete three homes in three months. Three homes with roofs, cement floors, doors, and windows. Homes for families that work harder and sacrifice more than most could imagaine.



Although Tecla and I worked hard to get everything in order for these houses to be built, the famlies worked even harder. We hired a contractor to help, but it was the families who did most of the work. When one family was not working on their own home, they were helping one of the other families with theirs.





After spending years in a private college and church, and hearing sermon after sermon on community, it was in Zimbabwe where I actually learned what community really means.