So things were already looking up Friday after class. I had a Hawaiian BBQ, music and a Roof Top Party to attend! Seriously this was probably the most eventful weekend since, well… I can’t really remember. After we ate and sang some songs, we packed up and hiked across the street to the Pasadena Museum of California Art Roof Top Party, hosted by Fuller’s own Brehm Center. The only bummer was, Melanie discovered I can actually dance (nothin fancy, but I can keep beet). The cat is out of the bag and I have no more excuses. No worries, I think I’ll still survive and I hope my secret is safe with her.
Then Saturday morning rolls around--grey and wet. I LOVE it when it rains! The first hint of fall, of weather, of seasons here in Southern California. I get to pull out my sweaters, socks and boots. What more could I ask for?
Little did I know my day was going to get exponentially more fantabulous until I got the call from Nicole. She asked me how much I loved her and I knew. I knew she would come through for me. I knew she loved me enough to hook me up with an extra ticket to the Glen Hansard, Marketa Irglova and Iron and Wine show that night!!! Have I died and gone to heaven??? (not yet, the concert hadn’t started).
So I was giddy the whole day, I could hardly get any work done, we were going to go see one of the greatest shows I could hope to see. (And for free, might I add. Thanks WaMu, just tag my concert ticket right on to the tab of the Bailout plan… that’s a whole other story).
We drove up into the hills of Hollywood, and stood outside the Theatre waiting to grab our seats, second row from the back. You bet, I roll in style. Iron and Wine were amazing—who knew such passion and depth could come from a guitar, a piano and an accordion. I was blown away. Their music is new to me but I’ve come to really like woman king, it speaks to the feminist in me. But my favorite part is that she is depicted as a hand-to-hand combat warrior, “sword in hand swing at some evil and bleed.”
THIS WAS JUST THE BEGINNING!!
Then Glen and Marketa came out with their band and just took us all by the seat of our pants and rocked! Not only did they do some of their own exceptional tunes they did everything! They left us silent and made us want to scream. Glen unplugged his guitar and walked up front on the stage and said “I think I’m going to try this one without the speakers.” He strummed the first chords and the crowd cheered but only for a second because we didn’t want to miss a word … “I’m scratching at the surface now…” We could hear him clear as day, unplugged, all the way up into the nosebleed section! “This is what you’ve waited for, your chance to even up the score… …” One of the most powerful performances I have experienced.
I have to add some of the most amazing surprises like Robert Sherman (who wrote and performed for us supercalifragilisticexpialidocious) and John Carney (writer/director of Once).
Really this show was beyond all my expectations!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Double Dose of Jesus
So today I was helping with the service at Fuente de Vida, the spanish speaking Church I will be at for the next nine months. I was told I would lead the "Oracion del Senor" "The Lord's Prayer." Okay, I'll just read through it a number of times to make sure i don't totally butcher some of the words.
So this morning, I was given a stole--blue and stiff, hand made by some people Ruben knows in Mexico. That was a first in my life, I'm not quite sure of their significance, but I'll keep looking into that. We walked to the front and stood behind the table, again not a position I'm used to. Pastor Esponda told of the significance of taking communion with the people of God, read scripture and blessed the elements.
I led in the prayer, that everyone else knew and said more quickly than I did so I giggled and kept going as well as I could, then Pastor asked me to say "the bread is the body of Christ and the wine/juice is the blood of Christ, or something like that" so I stumbled through "Something like that in english" and we stood there while everyone took their part. I hadn't noticed that we were going to all eat/drink together at the end, so as everyone was watching I took my piece ate/drank quickly and offered the plate to the deacon beside me who was surprised by my manners but didnt' say anything because i quickly realized I had done that one wrong. Pastor came to my rescue and offered me another piece of bread and we at together. I guess I just really got the real presence of Jesus today.
We have finally gotten past the "mucho gusto" part and moved into the "conjuntos" part. We're together in this and I have to wade through the next three months in order to get to know them and they me. Even when I take more Jesus than was allotted.
So this morning, I was given a stole--blue and stiff, hand made by some people Ruben knows in Mexico. That was a first in my life, I'm not quite sure of their significance, but I'll keep looking into that. We walked to the front and stood behind the table, again not a position I'm used to. Pastor Esponda told of the significance of taking communion with the people of God, read scripture and blessed the elements.
I led in the prayer, that everyone else knew and said more quickly than I did so I giggled and kept going as well as I could, then Pastor asked me to say "the bread is the body of Christ and the wine/juice is the blood of Christ, or something like that" so I stumbled through "Something like that in english" and we stood there while everyone took their part. I hadn't noticed that we were going to all eat/drink together at the end, so as everyone was watching I took my piece ate/drank quickly and offered the plate to the deacon beside me who was surprised by my manners but didnt' say anything because i quickly realized I had done that one wrong. Pastor came to my rescue and offered me another piece of bread and we at together. I guess I just really got the real presence of Jesus today.
We have finally gotten past the "mucho gusto" part and moved into the "conjuntos" part. We're together in this and I have to wade through the next three months in order to get to know them and they me. Even when I take more Jesus than was allotted.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Conversations with Mom
Hey Mom,
I was re-thinking about what we were talking to Luz (my grandfather's caregiver) about today. She said that the average housekeeper made about 2,000pesos a day (Luz' family is from the Philippines) with the exchange rate of 46 pesos/1 us dollar. The basic math is that that same person is expected to live off less than $1.50 a day when a hamburger costs $1 and a poud of meat about $4-5. The next thought I had was that a person who made even 10 times that would still be living off less than $15 a day. This hardly pays for food and shelter (if you're creative) let alone healthcare, insurance, children, education etc.
It really made me think because I have budgeted for myself $100 a week for food and extras. That's something like $15 a day. Now, granted, I spend $5-7 on a burger here so there is some inflation but it really helps me keep things in check especially when I have gas, utilities, a spacious and comfortable home with running-heated water and electricity. This is the kind of stuff that reminds me how much I have, above and beyond. Why I'm in seminary. And that the world I know is such a small fraction of what everyone else sees/knows.
I don't know if you ran the numbers through your head again, but I thought you would be interested to know.
love you!
I was re-thinking about what we were talking to Luz (my grandfather's caregiver) about today. She said that the average housekeeper made about 2,000pesos a day (Luz' family is from the Philippines) with the exchange rate of 46 pesos/1 us dollar. The basic math is that that same person is expected to live off less than $1.50 a day when a hamburger costs $1 and a poud of meat about $4-5. The next thought I had was that a person who made even 10 times that would still be living off less than $15 a day. This hardly pays for food and shelter (if you're creative) let alone healthcare, insurance, children, education etc.
It really made me think because I have budgeted for myself $100 a week for food and extras. That's something like $15 a day. Now, granted, I spend $5-7 on a burger here so there is some inflation but it really helps me keep things in check especially when I have gas, utilities, a spacious and comfortable home with running-heated water and electricity. This is the kind of stuff that reminds me how much I have, above and beyond. Why I'm in seminary. And that the world I know is such a small fraction of what everyone else sees/knows.
I don't know if you ran the numbers through your head again, but I thought you would be interested to know.
love you!
Mi primero semana era una interna
My first week as an intern
Sunday morning I leisurely rose to prepare for my first day at Fuente de Vida. Church does not start until 11am so I had plenty of time to review my “personal statement” for the congregation that day. I had no idea what to say. So I told them who I was, where I was from and a little bit about why I was there.
I sat alone through the service, behind two blind visitors who are apparently lay pastors for a church and honored guests that week. I scribbled some notes and followed along as much as I could. I think my favorite part is the singing, because I become part of the church when we sing. I can sing along, and understand mostly what I am saying to God but for some reason the significance of the words in these songs have changed. I'm learning that no longer does music at church find it’s strength and foundation in the words themselves but also in the corporate and personal offering it bears.
It didn’t matter that I only understood at best 50% of anything anyone said. It didn’t matter that my skin was white, my hair light, my eyes green or that I am a woman. They said “Bienvenidos” while shaking my hand and kissing me softly on the cheek.
I had a similar experience in South Africa. After 10 days of living, studying and traveling with a handful of South African Theology students I was given the name Owetu. A word deeply rooted in the freedom movements against the powers of Apartheid when citizens would rally together and proclaim Amantla Owetu—Power to the people, power is ours. Owetu means ours. At Fuente I have only committed to nine months and have given two days yet somehow I am part of them.
Day two: I met with Pastor Ruben and we walked around the church campus and began a brief conversation about questions I have. Then I observed as he led a couple in marriage counseling. I left early to join the deacons for a home visit with a woman who had suffered much pain so it is hard to work, and life is difficult. We sang more songs, Miriam read from Matthew 9 and spoke boldly of the good doctor we have in the Lord, we then shared our own prayer requests and offered it all to the Lord in prayer.
Most of the time I feel anxious about wishing I already knew the language, but the grace and support I have received has made me understand they love and accept me where I am and appreciate my commitment to them. But what is most important is that God is with us--guiding, leading and changing us.
Sunday morning I leisurely rose to prepare for my first day at Fuente de Vida. Church does not start until 11am so I had plenty of time to review my “personal statement” for the congregation that day. I had no idea what to say. So I told them who I was, where I was from and a little bit about why I was there.
I sat alone through the service, behind two blind visitors who are apparently lay pastors for a church and honored guests that week. I scribbled some notes and followed along as much as I could. I think my favorite part is the singing, because I become part of the church when we sing. I can sing along, and understand mostly what I am saying to God but for some reason the significance of the words in these songs have changed. I'm learning that no longer does music at church find it’s strength and foundation in the words themselves but also in the corporate and personal offering it bears.
It didn’t matter that I only understood at best 50% of anything anyone said. It didn’t matter that my skin was white, my hair light, my eyes green or that I am a woman. They said “Bienvenidos” while shaking my hand and kissing me softly on the cheek.
I had a similar experience in South Africa. After 10 days of living, studying and traveling with a handful of South African Theology students I was given the name Owetu. A word deeply rooted in the freedom movements against the powers of Apartheid when citizens would rally together and proclaim Amantla Owetu—Power to the people, power is ours. Owetu means ours. At Fuente I have only committed to nine months and have given two days yet somehow I am part of them.
Day two: I met with Pastor Ruben and we walked around the church campus and began a brief conversation about questions I have. Then I observed as he led a couple in marriage counseling. I left early to join the deacons for a home visit with a woman who had suffered much pain so it is hard to work, and life is difficult. We sang more songs, Miriam read from Matthew 9 and spoke boldly of the good doctor we have in the Lord, we then shared our own prayer requests and offered it all to the Lord in prayer.
Most of the time I feel anxious about wishing I already knew the language, but the grace and support I have received has made me understand they love and accept me where I am and appreciate my commitment to them. But what is most important is that God is with us--guiding, leading and changing us.
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