Category: Good Stuff

The Nosedive Five

EDIT: This is actually being posted nearly two months later. It’s been sitting unfinished in my drafts folder for all that time, and though I don’t feel like I can do it any more justice than I could when I started writing it, I wanted this day to be recorded.

Travel Day: 8
On Ground Day: 6
Nicole’s Birthday
Final Day

This morning was early. Granted, we are used to that, and I would have rolled over semi-consciously when the stupid roosters started crowing anyway. But seriously having to roll out of bed at 4:00 AM and go to the kitchen would not have been on my to-do list of choice if I’d written the schedule for our eighth day in the jungle.

Breakfast meant seeing the kids for the last time. They came in basically in the dark and still sang their pre-meal songs and prayers. We definitely have our system down pat by now, and since some of the kids left last night, there was only one super-fast breakfast shift, another hearty meal of the brown sardine mush that makes me praise God for Chet’s dwindling supply of Nutri-Grain bars and sick at the thought that some of these kids are 5 years old and they are hiking for up to a day or more and probably will eat nothing else on the trip home.

That thought just kept slamming me as I watched groups trickle out into the jungle, mostly groups of tiny kids with one adult guide per group. And I was sympathetic before it started raining. And raining. And raining.

The gringos went back to the church to begin packing up. Chet handed out beef jerky to the guys before the girls came over. I’m really glad that he can’t go for days straight on yuca and rice either. Fabian sat singing “His Cheeseburger” from Veggietales and peeling us grapefruit, putting a candle-sized hole in one for Nicole. I’ve had weird birthdays. My 16th and 19th stick out in that regard. But Nicole’s a candle-topped jungle grapefruit takes the cake (no pun intended).

Chet talked to us for a while about the rain. The original plan was for us to go and bail out the runway with cups from the kitchen so that the water wouldn’t stop the planes from landing.

For emphasis and so that you know I’m not kidding, let me just say that again. We were going to go and bail out the runway with cups from the kitchen so that the water wouldn’t stop the planes from landing.

He also mentioned the possibility of planes not getting out, and that the order of flights would be two Ecuadorian groups (including Giberto (sp?), whose wife just had a baby back home), three gringo flights (Chet’s group being last) and then the rest of Rey’s crew. As a bit of foreshadowing… flex and flow, right?

As it turned out, Rey and Palabra de Vida wanted to give us a break. I don’t think I could have felt more appreciated (as I tried also not to feel guilty) for our work than by walking to Toca’s house down the runway as the Ecuadorians seriously did bail out the runway with coffee cups as the bit of afternoon sun helped to clear it up a little. Looking down at the still soaked and muddy landing strip and up at the 80%-gray, cloud-covered sky as we trekked to lunch with the Vice President, I was already skeptical that eight flights would get in to Toñamparé, much less out.

We were all pretty tired, and there wasn’t much talking over the delicious arroz con pollo. Sarah even had to jab Teddy a couple of times for that whole facial expression thing (as he can’t express himself of Wao) so he didn’t look like he hated the meal as he sat staring blankly into space from exhaustion.

Hiking was another one of those things that just would not have been in my own plans, but as it turned out, getting a lesson in jungle flora and fauna was pretty sweet, and so was standing by the beautiful, gigantic waterfall when we got to the end of our jungle journey. And somewhere in the discussion on the way back, Toca decided he’d teach us to shoot the blow gun. The big one. (As in “Keep-out-of-reach-of-chiiiiiildren.”) He set up a watermelon, and I just about hit it, and most of the guys came close. Necia and Danielle didn’t do bad either, but Jerry nailed the thing. I don’t think many gringos do that (though I don’t know how many non-Huaorani other than Chet they’d let try).

By that time, Chet decided that we couldn’t hang any longer or we’d be cutting it too close on the planes. We made it back to the church and actually part-way back to town when we heard the first engine in the sky. We RAN. I’m stunned we actually got all our belongings into various backpacks and Williams’ adventure racing bags, especially in so little time, and all of us were back at the other end of the landing strip as the first planes took off and the second set got ready.

That was the two Ecuadorian flights, and the first gringo flight did get out with Jerry, Necia, Matt and Angela. Next was supposed to be Teddy, Nicole Lane, Danielle and me. Somehow we switched with Chet, Fabian, Bryan, Sarah and Dana, and then again at the last moment, Dana and Nicole switched. Praise God- this turned into another birthday present for Nicole and a very much needed Spanish speaker in our group. She thought she’d just be the translator for the pilot, and I also think she might even have had the foresight to realize that another plane was NOT getting out. I should have known that after seeing a North American pilot scream in Spanish at an Ecuadorian pilot who had sat on the ground for 30 minutes and knowing how concerned he was as our time was being gambled against the ever-darkening weather.

Chet turned to us as it began to rain (having been misinformed that our plane was already in the air from Shell) and said “See you in Shell.” To give you an idea how confused things were already, the pilot (coincidentally named “Dan”) turned to him with a strange look and said “You’re going to Arahuno.” Chet’s smile faded just slightly, but he shrugged and said “Okay.” As he hopped into the cabin.

As the five gringos and Fabian faded into the looming clouds, we heard our last airplane engine for the night. That was it. There were no more planes leaving the ground, and in fact, we found out later that the ones in the air were disallowed to land in Shell, having to make instrument landings in Arahuno. The pilots used our sleeping pads to crash in the cargo areas of their planes.

Forgive me for the consistent redundancy in this post, but here’s that statement again: The pilots used our sleeping pads to crash in the cargo areas of their planes. That meant that our sleeping pads were in Arahuno, and we were in Toñamparé.

It was a pretty sad moment for us as we unpacked again, Teddy, Lane and I in the church (praise God we didn’t cut our lines and could re-hang our mosquito nets) and Dana and Danielle back in the house across from us. After that we walked back down the runway for the beginning of at least the fourth round trip to town that day. We felt appreciated again though, as the Ecuadorians did the “ritual of the rain” for us as we entered the kitchen and made us sit and be served first. And as for dinner, at least we got eggs again. My mom will think I’m crazy when I start putting eggs on my rice at home, but it was delicious.

We went back to the church and Dana went right into Maestra mode. Or maybe mom mode. Or at this point I’m just thinking that’s Dana’s all-the-time mode. We went around the circle of the five of us and talked about or feelings. Amazingly, all five of us had already worked out exactly why we were there, why God picked us at the five to be left behind (the “Nosedive Five” as Teddy named us), the individuals who needed to learn a specific lesson. All of us had different reasons, and all of us were pretty honest about it, to the point that it wasn’t hard for me to open up and express myself at all, and that I could gain a newfound respect for two people in the group, and an unexpected friendship with another. I doubt that that conversation will ever leave that circle, if only because there is absolutely no one who could understand it without being there. We say that a lot about experiences with Youth World and Ecuador, but this is one that I will not even attempt.

I played guitar in the dark and prayed to close us out, and it was cool to have five musically talented gringos singing praises and choosing joy despite the ridiculous circumstances. I realized about halfway through my favorite song of all time that we were probably waking up Dayuma next door and tried to keep it down, but just couldn’t help it. That will go down as one of my favorite and most meaningful worship experiences ever.

Refreshed

Travel Day: 4

On Ground Day: 2

Every morning we’ve been waking up to Fabian. I’m usually conscious enough to hear Chet to say “Bryan?”, which means “Wake everyone up, Mr. Maestro.” Immediatley Fabian, in his awesome Ecuadorian accent starts repeating “Bryan? Bryan? Bryan?… Bryaaan? Bryyyyan? Bryan?”

This morning was no exception, and it continued when he burst into song. I’m not sure if I find it obnoxious or hillarious when he belts out “Buenos dias, Señor Jesus!” and “Acompantes, acompantes….” He’s like a human alarm clock. And considering there are no other morning people in the group (even Chet just shakes his head and walks outside) he takes a lot of grief for it, but just stands and stares at you for a while and then shrugs and continues singing.

As we were all brushing our teeth outside the church, our new home, Fabian walked next door to Dayuma‘s house. She has a covered area out front for storage and where her animals hang out, particularly a parrot. Fabian was putting his finger out, trying to get the bird to land on it. In a high-pitched parrot voice he would say “Hola amiga?” and the bird would flap its wings violently and go “SQWUAAAAAAAAK!” and try to bite the outstretched finger. This continued for twenty minutes. I kid you not.

We had devotion with Rey’s group and made it only about 4 minutes late. Pretty good for gringos, and amazing that the Ecuadorians started on time, even when the missionary in charge is Columbian. The kitchen crew took off while everyone was having coffee and some semblance of breakfast cake. We had breakfast set up and ready to go in no time. Roberto informed us that it was much easier for him and us and much less complicated for the kids if we just put spoons in the bowls rather than on the table. This really did make life much easier, just setting the places with cups and bringing the food over in a sort of assembly line. Meanwhile, Fabian was working on those benches from yesterday. Turns out that he and a couple others are putting some wood on the bottom to make a long flat surface to touch the ground on each leg, rather than a pointed end that digs into the ground. This will help stabilize them as well as keep our “remodeling” work from being undone.

One thing that I did not mention about yesterday and that I might have failed to mention today except for some events that will occur later in this story is what we do when the kids arrive. Dana was really excited for the kids last night and as they lined up outside and we had nothing to do until they were finished eating, she said “Let’s make a tunnel!” So all five gringos stood on one or the other side of the door, put our arms up and out for them to run underneath and smiled and yelled “Whooooooo!” as the children came in. The littlest ones were totally confused, but some of the older ones really liked it.

We had opened several cans of sardines but we didn’t see them in breakfast. Nicole said as we were eating that if we were having sardines for lunch, she was going to be packing in this stuff. The “stuff” in question was a crumbly, dried sort of brown something. There’s just not even any kind of breakfast I can compare it to. Even oatmeal is just too liquid-y even in its driest form to compare, and I had no clue what any of the ingredients were at the time, and only know one of them now. Fortunately, it was easy to clean up.

The cups got done first (which is something we learned to start doing the rest of the day) and then the spoons and finally the bowls and it just flew by, with not much to scrape or scrub or rinse off before actually washing them. We had plenty of time to make it over to the program, which was a story about Hudson Taylor in Spanish of which I at least caught the gist. As the kids went out to do devotion time in their age groups with counselors, we headed back to the kitchen, which feels like our base of operations now. Between not having worked our tails off for breakfast like we had with all previous meals and the fact that we were upbeat from Fabian’s singing and the parrot and had had a fairly happy morning, it was like we had settled into our place here.

Now that all the kids are here, it takes two shifts for them all to eat. About 90-115 (depending on what is being served) come in for the first batch. Then when they leave, we clean up and reset as fast as we can and let in the other 45-60 kids (depending) and then the gringos (the other eight) and then the kitchen crew (gringos, Ecuadorians, and Huaorani) and any other Huaorani who would like to eat. It’s really cool that they get to come because the extra food goes to good use and because the people in town are becoming very involved in what’s going on here, watching, helping, and coming to the program each session.

Lunch contained tuna, and we discovered in the course of setting it out that those sardines HAD been in our breakfast. Nicole was really happy to learn that. At least it was a painless way to consume them, not knowing. Ignorance is bliss.

And on the bliss front, it turned out that after we (the kitchen crew) sat down, we were D-O-N DONE. (I know how to spell, it’s a YouthWorld joke). Bryan, Chet, Sarah, Teddy and probably a couple others relieved us from lunch dishes. Dana had gotten a chance to talk to Chet about the extreme amount of exhaustion we had felt yesterday (and to think I was worried I wouldn’t be doing enough work on the kitchen crew) and they decided to step in for us. We went to take showers and have some desperately needed quiet time.

This afternoon was the first time in Toñamparé that I got to take a little bit of a nap, and to do my Quito Quest Intern devotional and read scripture and to just have some prayer time. It was really good to realize how much we have actually accomplished, despite feeling like we are trapped in one little area for the largest chunk of the day. We had talked on the way back how that was really sweet of them to step up for us (but how we were sure we looked exhausted) and by the time we walked back I felt really refreshed. Refreshed. I just want to put emphasis on that word because it would become a theme the rest of the day. For me, personally because I felt like the floaters and sports/generator crew that switched us out for lunch dishes were just an answer to prayer. I asked yesterday to be able to have the energy to just keep doing my job all week and to glorify God through it, and those guys definitely gave us the ability to do that, and to have the time to remember what we’re here for.

We went back for dinner and set up again. It was getting dark by the time Rey, Angel, and the rest let the kids out of the session, but fortunately the generator guys had string wiring and two light bulbs in the kitchen and had the generator going five minutes into the meal. The kid applauded when they cranked it up.

Dinner was rice, lentils and eggs with lemonade (though we found out that the water for the lemonade isn’t purified, and despite being heated, we’re trying to stay away from it. Back to the Nalgene bottles). When the kids were lining up outside, two of the Ecuadorians said “Let’s do the Ritual of the Rain!” Dana knew what this meant even before she was done translating that sentence for us, and all of us were laughing as we ran to make the tunnel. We thought the kids would think we were crazy gringos. The adults certainly do, but it is truly a sign of partnership that they join in with us in our idiocy. And apparently the kids like it. Besides that, we get to show our enthusiasm for our assigned job and for the kids that we’re truly here for, making them feel at peace and at home as they learn about God and have an amazing camp (EDIT: see Saturday, June 14th’s post about the “amazing” aspect of the camp that Rey’s group is putting on here).

It also turns out that they constructed a new table outside during the afternoon. We’d had one before, but it was small and short. This one was a little taller and a little longer, and the Huaorani who had made it had done so specifically for us to wash the dishes. If there was one thing they could do to show their appreciation for us beyond the “Ritual of the Rain,” that was it. I’m sure it sounds silly if you are reading this on a screen in North America, but that we were noticed and thought of cared for was really just touching, especially in light of knowing the usual sentiment toward gringos, “We love them, they bring money.” I’m seriously tearing up right now typing about a table.

At any rate, we now had dishes down the a science. Fabian (who was at this point about 80% finished with all those benches: this guy is a work-a-holic) made sure the spoons were cleaned and dried, aquiring the nickname “Spoon Boy.” It also turns out the Roberto has been boiling water and keeping the spoons in it for half and hour or so after every meal so that they really are sanitized. That made me feel much better about our ability to clean them, and I can handle cups and bowls. I’m sure I’ve eaten off worse at Boy Scout camps. The rest of us ripped right through the cups and then the bowls in record time, especially since we now had room to stack the dirty dishes outside and then pass them through two wash buckets and a rinse bucket and a “clean” bucket to take back inside as we had the table/working space for everyone to be involved at once and be out of the way of the diligent Huaorani women who cleaned the nastiest cooking bowls before we could even get to them.

We went to the program and I thought we would be getting to bed soon. But this is Flexador, right? I can’t honestly say I wasn’t grumpy going into this, wanting to have debrief and be D-O-N DONE. But we went outside in the dark and cranked up the generator for some makeshift light posts and played games. The kids did a South American style tug-of-war with inner tubes rather than rope. One from each team would grab the inner tube and hang on and the rest would hold on to the kid in front’s waist and pull. It’s really a lot more violent but also a lot more effective than our way. After several rounds of that they did the same thing grabbing the waist, but formed two “caterpillars” and tied a balloon to the waist of the last one in line. The first kid in line had to pop the balloon of the last person on the other team, and no one could let go of the person in front of them. Hilarious to watch.

Finally, it was an obstacle course. Each team had ten people line up behind an inner tube. The first kid would scramble through the tube, grab a broomstick and do ten fast-paced turns to get dizzy. Then they’d run and have to stop and put their face to a plate on the ground full of water, grab a piece of candy out of the middle with their teeth, and spit it to the side. Then they’d get up and run in a straight line to another plate covered with flour and grab another piece of candy with their teeth and spit it out, but now the flour would be all over their wet face. Finally, they’d run again to a soccer ball and have to kick it into a “goal,” two sticks, each held by a counselor. It was pretty wide, but dizzy and with flour in your eyes, even for kids who play just about no other sports butsoccer, it was a tough shot. When they finally made it, the second kid would scramble through the inner tube at the beginning and do the same process.

After all the different age groups had gone, rotating a set of two girl teams and a set of two guy teams against each other, the counselors went.

Then they decided it would be a good idea for the gringos to participate. So the six gringo guys went head-to-head with the six gringo girls. We had a huddle and it was unanimous: there was no way we were going to get beaten by girls. We flew through that thing, and I was last in line, which meant everyone else got to stand and yell “GO FASTER DANNY” as I spun around the broomstick and headed off toward the candy. Being the VERY LAST person through all the water and flour, it was disgusting and dirty, and I couldn’t find the candy, and had grit in my teeth for hours when I got done. But when I kicked that goal and the whistle blew, we were a full person ahead with Nicole still standing behind the inner tube.

And we were disgusting. I’m hoping Chet will have some pictures I can insert here of us covered in flour and mud. And all we had was our Nalgene bottles (we were out of both water in our cooler and buckets from which we could pump without going up to the “shower” again) with which we could get our faces and hair clean. For those of us with facial hair (though fortunately I shaved before we left Adam and Sarah’s so it wasn’t too bad) this was an exceptionally fun experience. But the kids cheered us on and thought we were awesome. For those of us who are in the kitchen all day and only get to see the kids when they eat, it really made us feel a part of the camp and beginning to have a relationship with them. I think it also raised us a few notches in Rey’s crew’s eyes, because in their experience gringos can be high and mighty and certainly wouldn’t deign to do a children’s obstacle course when they could be headed back to the church to sleep. (PS- if I didn’t relay this already, the church is very much like the buildings we were in before, in that it is open and has the fence for window/walls above chest level so you can see out and so we could tie our mosquito nets in the same manner. That has no bearing on what I’m writing, I just don’t want to give the wrong impression when I say “sleeping in the church”).

We did head back after that, but the whole town was heading to bed too. It was probably about 10:30 by this time, and for people who are used to rising and setting with the sun, that was a loooong day (sunset is around sixish and there was a lot of activity between then and the end of the games).

Teddy and Nicole led debrief, and as it turns out, they used the “one word” debrief that Sarah and I intentionally saved for someone else. Not that we can’t do the same one again, but I feel like we like being creative, and it’s a good way to practice different methods before we do them with our teams. I won’t get into my word, because I feel like I can get my message across without it. The one that has stuck with me (other than Chet’s being “Tortilla”) was Sarah’s: Refreshed. She’d felt spiritually refreshed working with the kids and holding a baby for a large chunk of the day, and getting to be a nurse for a while, and listening to God realizing a new Call in her life. I was really glad that we split up into parejas to talk about our words and pray once we’d all shared our word and whoever wanted to had gotten a chance to explain their related feelings. And I was really glad that it was my pareja who had said something that resonated with me so much, especially on a day that I had spent so much time with God and really really felt like I had found a place among my friends in the kitchen crew and in the camp with the kids as a whole.

Praying with Sarah was also a really great experience, just because of getting to know each other, and being able to talk out our fears and frustrations and joys and lessons learned. She also prayed for something that will stick with me for a long time (cryptic key word for my own memory when I read this later= tickle).

Chet finally let us break into the junk food tonight. We had Chips Ahoy and Oreos as we debriefed and prayed and had a brief meeting afterward about the plans for tomorrow with Rey and for ourselves, who would be doing and leading what (Lane and Danielle will be taking debrief tomorrow and we’ll have another devo session at 6:30 for which we plan to be fully on time).

Six o’clock will come early, but as much as it has been another truly long day, I feel truly Refreshed, and I feel that the team does as a whole as well.

Falling into Place

One of the most amazing things about my time in Ecuador last year and about our team in general was how God just made things fall into place. We used that phrase, “fall into place” about six million times each day.

Tonight, we packed up for our trip to the jungle and went to Matt and Marlo’s for dinner and to weigh all our stuff (and selves). We ended the evening with prayer requests and a group prayer session about the upcoming week. We prayed about bats and bugs and other fears. We prayed that we will be able to “choose joy” (those are El Refugio words that just hit me this exact second as a way to sum that up) each day when we wake up and that it would be a contagious sign of God’s love. We prayed that our nerves would be calmed, and that we would be able to bring needed gifts and talents, even if we have no idea what we are doing. And by the way, for a group of people who came here with intentionally to be leaders, we feel like we have no idea what we are doing.

So when I came back to the DeVries homestead this evening (it’s turning back into their home as opposed to ours as we pack everything up) I found several e-mails in response to a letter I sent out this afternoon. (I love communication!) Julie sent me the scripture from tomorrow’s devotional, Galatians 3:26-39: Jesus said,”Now I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. If you have love for one another, then everyone will know that you are my disciples.”

It’s written as a command, but I find it a scripture of reassurance as I look at what we are headed into and next to our prayers this evening. It just makes me realize what’s important. We feel like we need to know what we are doing and do our jobs and facilitate a camp. And we’re really focused. Out of the 12 interns/Maestros, all 12 were J’s and 11 were E’s on our Myers-Briggs test. But we’re here as missionaries, here to grow in our understanding of God and in our relationships with his people, and to share His love.

And guess what. The prayer from the Upper Room? Dear God, help us to see the world through your eyes. May we be receptive to your leading for our direction. In Jesus’ name. Amen. Can a devotion fall more “into place”? I need to be receptive to His reminder that our goal is to LOVE and to SHOW IT, and I’ll be seeing a whole new world all week long.

We, as interns, have been reading a couple books this summer. One of them is Credo by Ray Pritchard. He writes about the way that God makes himself painfully obvious, to the point that we must be aware of Him, as Romans 1:20 says, we are “without excuse.” I would be without excuse if I did not recognize that one, and I pray that I will be able to keep that in mind through plane rides and bug bites and 150 children. As we said in Cape Charles, that scripture is my “Yay God.”

EDIT: Literally the same second I published this, I got another e-mail from Heather. I quote (without permission) “Don’t hold back… Share the Well my friend!” For those of you who have any clue what I’m talking about… V8!

The Living City

It’s strange waking up early every morning. No matter how early or how late I go to bed, I’m up at 7:30. That doesn’t mean I’m not a lot happier with coffee. But I am at least mostly ready to roll. Each day the sun comes over the volcano (and into our window) sometime about 6:45. It’s like God just instantly cranking up a natural dimmer switch and saying “Here’s a new day, use it!”

Quito is completely alive by the time I’m moving. I think what usually makes me aware that it’s morning first, even before the light and the honking cars (this country uses horns like no other) is the planes coming and going. Maybe 747s make a different noise than C-130s, but I’m surprised I’m not used to that over my head all the time.

At any rate, it’s like being part of an organism with all kinds of functioning parts. There are twice as many people in Atlanta as there are here, but the way the city is stretched out, you just can’t look at it and fathom a bigger place. There are people moving everywhere, walking, driving, biking, piling into pickup trucks like a bunch of gringos (yeah we do).

There is activity outside as people go to work and school. They walk their dogs, they sell food and phone cards and everything else imaginable on the street. Guards or policía can be found at most corners. There are just always people around.

There is activity inside the house as well. Someone is making coffee while until about 8:15 there are constantly two showers going. Adam is heading off for Alliance and the rest are preparing for QQ training and morning worship and Mr. Bagel (mmmm).

Everyone has something to do. The interns, the staff, the people around us in Quito. Those planes flying over are bringing people like us in and out of the country. The guards in the neighborhood are keeping us safe. The street vendors are keeping those around them fed and supplied and making their living. It’s like 1 Corinthians 13 about the Body of Christ. Each of us is different, each of us has a job to do, and every one is important.

That was actually the scripture for Cameron’s morning worship yesterday. And I can’t think about that verse without thinking of Mason’s exercise where we literally pick body parts that other people in discussion group seem to be. Although I feel like something vestigial many days (an appendix, perhaps, or the left pinky toenail) I know that God has a unique plan for me. That ought to be really evident today as we find out our parejas.

Each of us interns are different, with different gifts and strengths and abilities and perspectives. I pray that we’ll be able to mold those all together to compliment each other and be great leaders this summer and great hosts for our teams. Please pray for us all as we finish our (formal part of) training today and prepare for the jungle. Just three days, I can’t believe it.

Safe arrival

Last week I stood in the RDU parking garage laughing that I had made it back to my car. I was actually in disbelief that I possessed the responsibility to make it from Elizabeth City to Raleigh to DC to Burlington to North Hero to Ottawa and back nearly the same way. And now here I sit in Quito, Ecuador. Wow.

So Cameron and Roberto Vivanco and Emily (another Intern who is a site host rather than hosting teams) picked us up at the airport last night. We ran by Adam and Sara’s house (another Youth World couple who are temporarily housing all the male interns and our male Maestro, Bryan). We picked up Matt Smith (another Quito Quest host) and had dinner at the Vivancos’. Delicious. Especially since it included “safe” lettuce. There’s not going to be much green stuff we can eat the rest of the summer. After that, hung out with the guys and Sara and hit the sack for an early morning today.

This morning was breakfast at Matt and Marlo Jensen’s and a lot of meeting people (the female interns/Maestro and the long-term QQ staff). We did a devotional, we sang, we talked about our purpose this summer, which was really great. Huge focus on the growing in Christ aspect, way more so than the job aspect or even leading teams. It was a really cool way to start the day and the summer.

We went to the park this afternoon and played football for a while and then did quiet/devotional time outside and just beat the rain when we headed off to the mall for dinner. (The nice mall where we went last year after our dump visit. On a side note, I managed to stay under budget this time.)

Now it’s just chill time back at “home”. Official training starts tomorrow and we’ll be here and at the Youth World office a lot. I’m really excited about working with everyone here this summer. The guys are awesome, the girls are awesome, Matt and Marlo are awesome, our Maestros, Bryan and Dana are awesome, Dario and the rest of the QQ staff are awesome. It’s such a Christ-centered environment and I’ve learned a lot despite not accomplishing too much today. Much like our first day last year.

Lacking a "Linebacker"

First off, this will make a lot more sense if you’ve seen the “Evangelism Linebacker” video. YouTube address (dispite my loathing of YouTube for a multitude of reasons all stemming from their liberal interpretation of handling copyrights) is below. For posterity (you know, if my dream ever comes true and there is a Constitutional Ammendment to ban YouTube) just search for “Evangelism Linebacker” and I’m sure you’ll find it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvYFvhx1dcY

Blog entry proper:

I’ve not been the most patient person lately. I want everything to fall into place for Ecuador this summer. I want my International Teams fund raising account to hurry up and catch up with the count in my head. I want to be done with work and exams already so I can go to the beach, or maybe Vermont. I can count twenty pleasant things I’m eagerly anticipating and fifty more unpleasant ones I’d like to be over with.

But as much as I want work to be done with, I’ll feel like there’s so much I would rather be doing myself than delegating when I drive by Albemarle Music. And I’ll miss everybody there. Well, not John. (Just kidding, John. I know you account for 80% of my readership by yourself). And much as I want to be in Ecuador, I’ll miss Adan, Bayron, Brittany, Damaris, Eddie, Eric, Jesus, Joe, Luis, Melany, Vanessa, Aaron, Bart, Ben, Carrie, Cynthia, Derrick, Jason, Kos, Susie, Tina, Wade and everyone else that make my “day off” a learning experience and a joy.

I think I forget until each Tuesday that I can still grow in Elizabeth City, despite feeling like I have accomplished what I set out to do when I came back here. I forget to take Qui-Gon Jinn’s advice and focus on the “here and now,” though (being a good Methodist) I’d call it Prevenient Grace rather than the Living Force.

The other six days of the week, I think I need a “Patience Linebacker.”

“Boo-ya, baby! Concrete tastes the same in both hemispheres! Don’t be so anxious, I’ll blow you up anywhere!”

Life Lessons for the day:

“What can we do to show God we love Him more?” -Toni
“Pray once a day and twice on Sundays!” -Cynthia

“[In God’s time] everything falls in place.” -Julie (incidentally, my fund raising is finally where it is supposed to be, thanks to Grace alone)

[unspoken implication that guys should not have long fingernails] -Wade

Avoiding the Whale

Have you ever been asked to do something on very short notice? That was me tonight. Toni called me at about 5:35, giving me roughly an hour to come up with what she requested: a devotion and music for the worship at Benjamin House at 7:00.

Benjamin House is an incredible place. It is a group home for adults with various mental disabilities (seriously, click that link and check it out). It is a very beautiful facility full of warm, welcoming people with the love of Christ in their hearts.

I’m really not sure what I was expecting. I mostly just put my expectations aside (while I stressed about my message) and took it all in as it came. And although I was expecting excitement (Kevin, Mason, Toni and everyone else who has ever done anything over there has always talked about the love and energy they pour into worship), I was still totally amazed at the absolute enthusiasm that everyone shared.

I talked about Jonah. I’m sure everyone could tell it was a hastily-constructed devotion. But I learned something today, both through and about the written Word, and through speaking about it. The last verse in Jonah chapter 1 says that God “…provided a great fish to swallow Jonah.” The whale didn’t eat Jonah because the dude was unlucky, or at all because of it’s own free will (I guess only we get that). God provided it for Jonah- Jonah, who was only out in the sea in the first place to avoid God.

I’d never caught that single word before. In fact, I looked in three different translations of the Bible for one that would highlight that very provision a little less (my original planned message was going to go in a bit different direction that what I ended up). But each one, despite other differences, used the same exact phrase: “God provided.”

So there I was at First Baptist Church and Toni asks my via phone from Fayetteville to lead worship on short notice. I didn’t know it, but I was learning from Jonah already. And then, there I was giving a message an hour and a half later pretty much out of my head, and thinking “no way” could I have come up with this alone.” Oh- and I even asked Adam his favorite Old Testament story, hoping he’d give me something easier to work with than what was already circling around in my brain (Jonah). But guess which stubborn, seafaring Hebrew and eponymous, 4-chapter, single-story book he said? (If that didn’t narrow it down enough, the book, story and man in question are Jonah).

Once I’d squeezed all I could from Big Daddy J (as he was known to his homies in Galilee), Adam and I broke out the guitars and Toni’s Beach Retreat/Benjamin House songbook. I would have played all night if they’d kept calling them out. Nobody cared when we screwed up the chords, or the words, or the melody, or the harmony, or any of the other ways one music major and another ex-music major managed to massacre the music. The eight or nine that live there, plus Sam and Billy truly made a joyful noise. This tiny chapel was louder and had more hands in the air than I’ve heard and seen at most hundreds-members sanctuaries packed to the rafters on a Sunday morning.

When we finally played/sang/worshiped with “Sanctuary” and no one immediately shouted another number, I closed is prayer. Something I mentioned and lifted up to God was our desire to show the world that we are Christians (like the song says) by our love. And the people and Benjamin House certainly showed us. with their love for each other and for 3 total strangers they welcomed with open arms and hearts, and the love for Christ shown through those same acts and through genuine enthusiasm for worship and for Christ.

After Benjamin himself dismissed us from Chapel, he, Bart, and a couple others showed us their rooms, and we got a general tour of the place. We talked about football and wrestling and cars like we were all old buddies. We even got a hip-hop dance lesson.

I’ve been thinking since going to Ecuador last summer about the marginalized people of society. The poor, the homeless. The handicapped of all shapes and sizes go on that list too. I wonder if everyone could see the love, life and energy at Benjamin House if they would think differently about those who are different than them. We tend to ignore people who don’t measure up to us in status or wealth or intelligence of ability. Hut I have been trying to look at peoples’ faith and friendship and simple existence as human being and children of God and not judge them at all.

Jonah was the scripture of the night, but if there were books of the Bible of Bart or Benjamin, they would be my favorite. Because the hero of all three is God.

Huevos de Pascua

We had an Easter Egg hunt today at La Casa. (For those of you who don’t know, La Casa is an after-school ministry for Spanish-speaking school kids, held at Christ Episcopal Church two days of the week). Miranda and I went out to the side yard/playground and hid (roughly) 130 eggs1 for the kids to find. I doubt we even knew where they all were by the time we went back inside and upstairs.2

Once all the kids were finished with homework, coloring, and snack, it was egg hunting time. They bunny-hopped from the parish house to the playground with makeshift Easter baskets (plastic Food Lion bags) swish-swishing around. I even noticed one particularly adorable second-grader actually skipping through the yard, bag in hand, waving in the air as the egg-collecting began.

You just really can’t hide 130+ brightly colored eggs very well in a maybe 20×50 meter fenced-in yard. But even with half the eggs scattered around the ground or along the brick wall or other painfully obvious places, the kids had a blast. I don’t even remember the last time I skipped around doing anything. I think the joy of watching them actually dwarfed the feeling of them actually (for once) listening to me give directions before we went outside. I love kids.

1We didn’t know until later that we were supposed to count the eggs. This resulted in guesstimating how many eggs we had to limit each kid to finding. (Although several went over the alloted six by bagfuls, which itself resulted in the re-hiding of some eggs).
2As I told Miranda, I thought you had to be a lot older before you could hide your own Easter Eggs. I was mistaken.

Favorite People

Today was the Elizabeth City District United Methodist Lay Rally. Basically its the anual conference of all the non-clergy district leaders and anyone else, lay or clergy that wants to attend. The district youth praise band played before the service (most of it anyway, which only included two actual youth). So I got to jam with Toni and that was cool. After the service we went upstairs to the youth room and I got to play a little more music with Marlowe and Elanit. Also always a pleasure.

When I finally left and dragged myself to First Baptist (exhausted after having preached there this morning, played guitar all afternoon, and being sick) I just sat in the congregation. I did stand up and play bass so David could sing “That Where I Am There You,” but otherwise I was just a regular guy at the service, which was a nice change. No preaching, no praying out loud, no singing or playing, just a chance to be a part of the worship service, which I needed. And I just generally had some good conversations with Becca and later David and Steve and the Winslows and the Saunders.

Overall, the thing that stuck out to me all day was just getting to see a lot of random and very special people that I don’t usually have the opportunity to spend a lot of time with. And that’s a blessing in and of itself.

Photos Up

So I have finally got my Flickr Plugin working and my photos are up. This particular plugin doesn’t update super-fast, so the best way to view the new ones is on my flickr page, quite a few are showing up right now. I’m in the process of getting all of mine moved over there, even the Ecuador ones. So keep an eye on them. Just hit the “photos” link at the top of this page (or if you’re reading this on facebook, click right here).