Thursday, September 6, 2012

The results are in...

So, I had forgotten all about my previous post about heading out to Guatemala.  I have been home for almost a month now and been busy with life- as usual.  It is only now as I look at my blog that I remember vaguely...
I went to Guatemala with a heart full of love and hope.  I was not disappointed.
My team was a group of ten people, only one whom I already knew (my friend Denise).  There was a couple and their daughter who is only a year older than my own daughter, a couple and their daughter who is about my age, a young man, and a young woman- all of whom have a deep and abiding faith in God and in service.  These people, who started out strangers, became a family to me this week and taught me things I needed to know and reminded me of things I had forgotten.  I know they were put in my life for a purpose, and I am so grateful for each one of them.
We arrived in and drove through Guatemala City quickly and within an hour had arrived in Antigua.  It is a beautiful, old city with volcanoes around it.  The properties are all enclosed in walls, so the roads abruptly end at tall walls and the city is hard to see- except central, open areas for some churches and parks.  We ended up staying not at the team house, but at a bed and breakfast type home.  It was beautiful and cool and peaceful and I could have stayed forever!
We spend Sunday in a market, purchasing supplies for our trip down to the village, and worshipping at Iglesia del Camino (church of the road).  We sang songs in Spanish and English all at once and listened to dual-pastors share the message.  The song Guia Me El Cruz (Lead Me to the Cross) will always remind me of this trip and the beauty of celebrating God's love through music.  I think this was the moment that I started to feel His love again.  I didn't want the song to end; I wanted it to play forever and continue to fill me with joy.
We headed out Sunday evening for Hotel 6 in La Maquina, the area we would be serving in.  We waved goodbye to the cool weather and comfortable housing, and headed down toward the coast.  La Maquina is not quite to the coast, so we didn't go all the way to the ocean, but we did drive for about four hours.  The hotel is very modest.  Three of us ladies shared a room with three twin beds, three big fans and two small fans, ventilation in the tops of the wall and a window, and a bathroom with one knob in the shower with one little pipe sticking out of the wall- the cold water shower.  Mind you, I did not say the words air conditioning or window unit.  These things do not exist where we were.  And the initial horror of no hot water ends abruptly after a day in hot and humid weather.  The cold water shower was the blessed end to every day of heat.  I don't know that I will ever be so grateful for a cold water shower again!
We spent Monday through Friday in a village called Linea C-6.  The villages are all spread down a main road (the line), and each line is given a letter (C) and each village is given a number (6).
We built the well at the Asemblia del Dios (Assembly of God) church, so that all people would have access.  The drilling team spent the week drilling the well.  I, along with two other ladies and our hygiene leader (an awesome lady named Blanca), went into the school (K-6) to teach the children every morning.  We taught them about washing their hands, brushing their teeth, keeping their food safe, and taking care of the well.  We played with them at recess and we held their hands while we talked.  We made salvation bracelets with them and acted out Bible stories.  We were silly and we were honest.  We were loving and we were friendly.  We fell in love with these kids!
We spent our afternoons teaching the ladies of the village the same lessons we taught the children.  They were sweet women and had such a sense of community.
The entire time in the village was amazing.  These people that we, as Americans, look at as being poor, needy, third world, and lacking- these people, taught us about community, kindness, laughter, hope, and peace.  Their lives are simple in worldly things, but their hearts are full of friendship, patience, and faith.  A few scenes that stick out in my mind:
  • Our first day in the village, the four of us who composed our hygiene team went walking through the village with a guide in order to invite the women to the church for the lessons.  At most homes, we were invited to sit down and the hostess would not be satisfied until we did.  At most homes, the outside rooms with dirt floors were swept so the lines of the broom showed that it was a well-cared for home. 
  • Our team went down to the river Samala one day.  It is the river the entire area is named for, and we loaded up in the back of a pick up truck with a few of the men and a few of the boys, and took off.  When the drivable road ended, we walked through cow fields and crossed several small rivers (I think I counted 10) to get to the big river.  It was beautiful and we played in it.  We sat on the bank and played with the kids in the sunshine.  When we returned, we were an hour late for our meeting with the women.  I ran up to them- covered in mud and water as I was- and apologized in my poor Spanish for being so late because we had been at the river.  The women smiled at me, and one woman asked, "Isn't it beautiful?"  I said yes, and we carried on. 
  • During a lesson with the women one day, I noticed a mother and daughter using sign language.  After the lesson, I went to ask if they signed.  It turns out that the daughter is deaf and has been educated at a school for the deaf.  Her sign language is different than ASL, but we worked around that.  I told her we had a young man on our team who was hard of hearing, and went over to see if he knew sign.  He didn't, but another team member was sitting next to him who works with a group that provides hearing aids to people!  He had a great talk with the girl, Keyla, and her family.  I was able to translate between Adam (our team member) and Keyla's parents.  I was able to speak Spanish and convert it into sign (which I had to translate in my head from English to Spanish) and translate back to English as Adam told them he would work on getting her hearing aids.  I was then able to, the next day, stand there and translate that he was able to promise hearing aids for Keyla.  Coincidence?  I just happened to look at these women in a moment of signing, David (our team member who is hard of hearing) just happened to be sitting by Adam, and a hard of hearing man, a woman who signs, and a man who provides hearing aids, all just happened to be on the same mission trip?  This was a God moment. 

I learned so many things from the people in this village.  I spent four days focused on serving these people- my brothers and sisters- and giving all that I had.  My days taught me patience, humility, kindness, love, and gratitude.  I learned how to see people as Christ does, and truly SEE them.
I spent four nights praying and having devotional with my team and discussing what we learned that day over dinner.  My nights taught me faith, hope, forgiveness, and friendship. 
We left the village Thursday afternoon amidst hugs with our friends and tears from the children.  I have a family in Guatemala now, and I will hold the people of Linea C-6 in my heart forever.
We went to an orphanage, Amor del Nino (Love of Children) on Friday morning.  I played with children, held sick infants, and fed two month old babies their formula.  I toured the orphanage and saw a place full of love.  The nineras work 7 day, 12 hour week shifts for these children.  I was amazed at how many kids there were.  No matter how much love these women have, it is not enough for the 50 kids they are trying to care for.  I just held babies all morning.  I couldn't leave.  Every time I got up and put down a child, someone else would cry.  It was as if their little voices were just pleading, "what about me?"... "please pick me".  I loved every minute I spent there.  I did not cry as we left as I thought I would, but my heart was full of love for these children and I realize that I love children.  Period. 

Now, to the big question.  Did I find renewed faith?  Did I find God through serving others? 
Let me share a few more experiences:
  • Liz, one of my roommates, told me, "you were put on this path for a reason.  This is part of the journey God has for you."
  • After my devotional, when I shared some of my life with the team and cried as I sometimes do, Ken (our team leader), pulled a chair into the center of the group, where I sat wide-eyed, as everyone formed a circle around me, put their hands on me, and several of them prayed.  It was not a blessing as I am accustomed to- but there were prayers sent up from a group of people who were my family that week.  There were words sent up to God from the lips of the faithful on my behalf.  And I felt God's love.
  • I went to Guatemala with the difficult choice of allowing my children to go live with their father every other week.  I kept this pain at bay, and every time I thought of it, I just said, "God, I can't take this one.  I need you to take it now."  And the pain would leave immediately. 
  • Every night, I heard the testimony of someone in my team.  I saw what we did every day, and I heard and felt how it impacted each of us every night.
  • For much of the trip, the song "A Window to His Love" played in my head.  I was to be a window to the pure love of Christ, and I was able to see Him because of it.
  • I had scriptures I hadn't thought of in years pop into my head while having conversations with my team members.
In short, I felt God in my life more powerfully than I have in a long time.  The weight of deciding if  should let the kids go live with their dad every other week left me.  I knew that I needed to let them go.  God made this answer for me, handed it to me, and carries the weight of the pain- when I let him.  I am far from being the devout Mormon woman I once was.  I don't know that I will ever find absolute trust in a religion again.  But my faith in God is absolute.  The answers, the safety, the pure joy of His love has renewed my faith.  When I decided to stop questioning and just believe, I was able to see Christ again as my Savior, my brother, and my path to God.  When I just stop and believe, I am filled with a peace that I have missed so much. 
I believe, as strongly as ever, that it is in serving others that we serve ourselves.  The pathway to God is in following the example of Jesus Christ.  It is not a narrow path to Heaven, but a straight and purposeful one. 

Friday, August 3, 2012

Guatemala, yes. A mission trip, well...

I am leaving tomorrow to go to Guatemala.  It is a trip that I had not planned to go on, a trip that I just kept thinking about (thanks Denise), and finally decided to go on only three weeks out.
I am excited to see a new country, meet Guatemalans, and try new food.  I am hopeful that I can help change the lives of the people in the village we will go to. 
I am hopeful that we can bring them a well that provides water- clean, pure, drinkable water, and teach them how to use proper hygiene skills.  Mostly, I am hopeful that we can love them, serve them, and learn from them. 
I am terrified of contracting malaria, getting nasty diarrhea, or being assaulted by gangs (thank you dad for pointing out that Guatemala is home to the most violent gang on earth!). 
I am afraid that I am not strong enough to endure a week without air conditioning, seeing poverty to an extreme I have never been exposed to, and, finally, I am afraid of my heart breaking when I go to the orphanage we will visit to take supplies to.

I really had to think about going on this trip because it is, in fact, a mission trip.  These people that I am going to be travelling with are going in the name of Christ, to serve as His body and do His work.  I had to ask myself if it would be okay for me to go, since I don't know much about faith anymore.  When I filled out the application, I looked at the box with "name of your church" for several minutes before leaving it blank.  I don't have a church. 
When I came to the blank asking me for my covenant statement, I didn't know what to write.  What do I believe?  What is my testimony?  What can I honestly say about my beliefs?  I wrote something to the effect of,  "I want to follow the example of Jesus Christ in serving and loving other people."  I figured that, regardless of the reality of Jesus Christ, His is still an amazing example to follow.  I figured that would be enough.
What I have noticed these last few weeks though, is that it is not enough.  I have realized that, deep down and climbing further to the surface each day, is a belief that if I go with an open heart and do His work, that God will talk to me once more.  That if I serve Him, and share His love, then I will feel His love again.  That if I give enough of myself to others, that He will restore to me the part of Him I once held in my heart.  This is what I pray for- that in bringing God to others, they will bring God back to me.
I fear it is a wasteful hope.  I fear that I will feel only emptiness and an even deeper loss, but I hope.  I hope that I am still worth the gift of His love.

Does this make me selfish?  Probably. 
But here's hoping anyway.

Monday, July 23, 2012

The baby is here

The moment is perfect- as if it were straight out of a movie:  My children walk into the hospital room.  They see their beautiful new baby sister from the doorway.  The baby is pink and chubby, snuggled into the crook of her mother's arm.  Her father stands beside the bed, leaning over the white sheets to lay one hand on his wife's shoulder and another on his newborn daughter's cheek.  My children are overwhelmed with excitement as they race up to the edge of the bed.  Their smiles grow so broad their faces look like they are about to burst.  My children start talking all at once- how cute she is, who will hold her first, all of the giddy comments of a new-made brother or sister.
I, of course, am not in the room.  I, of course, am walking down the hall, tears filling my eyes.  Down the elevator, across the parking lot, and into the car.  It is there that the tears begin to fall.  It is there that the weight of the moment hits me.  My children are bonding with their family- and I am not in the room. 
Another consequence of divorce.  Another piece of my heart gone.  Another ache that must be forever hidden from my children. 
Divorce never stops hurting.   

Monday, July 16, 2012

When I grow up

When I grow up
I want to be pure Spirit
So I can be everywhere
I will watch my children and hold them in arms of love
They will feel my warmth and care
I will soar to hospitals
And heal the heart of grief
I will float through school houses
And hold the hand of children lost
I will fly throughout this world
And share the gift of love and peace
I will do the work of Angels
I will spread the love of God
I will know who is in need
I will make weak souls stronger
And I will bring hope to the despairing
I will complete my life this way
And when I need His love
I will beam myself to Heaven
And sit in company of Gods.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

But



When I was a little girl
My momma took me to church
and I learned the names for God and Jesus
I learned all the songs and how to pray
They told me to love my Heavenly Father
and I would be happy and go to heaven

So,
I am a child of God
God is love
And families are forever
I understand,  okay

When I was eight they baptized me
One dunk, and I was purified
They laid hands upon my head
and gave me the gift of the Holy Ghost
They promised His spirit would go with me
as long as I lived the way they said

But
I am a child of God
God is love
And families are forever
so that's okay

When I was a teenager
I didn't know if I believed them
I sometimes didn't do what they said
I was told I just had to repent
and I could be clean again
they always forgave me, and it was enough

But
I am a child of God
God is love
And families are forever
so that's okay

When I was a young adult
I lost my way entirely
I didn't believe them, they didn't care
I was pregnant and eighteen
They said get married, it will be okay
I pretended to believe them, and they let me stay

But
I am a child of God
God is love
And families are forever
so that's okay

When I was a young mother
I went back to the church
I took my baby girl, and then my baby boys
My children learned the names for God and Jesus
My children learned the songs, the prayers
And I believed we would reach heaven together

And
I am a child of God
God is love
And families are forever
and we'll be okay

When I was fully grown
I went to church each week, I served the people in my ward
I taught my children all their stories
I loved God and Jesus and I prayed
I believed what they said- most of it
And when I didn't, I convinced myself to overlook it-

But
I am a child of God
God is love
And families are forever
so that's okay

When I went through a terrible divorce
I went to church for guidance, for help
Nobody had time to talk to me, to comfort me
I was alone with three small children
So I turned to God and prayed and wept
I couldn't think of a reason they left me alone-

But
I am a child of God
God is love
And families are forever
so that's okay

When I was a wayward woman
The bishop pulled me in (he had found some time)
He told me that I was not forigven
He told me I was outcast
He ripped my heart out of my chest
He turned my soul to blackened ash
Repentance and forgiveness lost-

But
I am a child of God
God is love
And families are forever
so that's okay

em


Love. (See the period there?)


As a gestational surrogate (surrogate mother), I am often assailed with questions about how I could do this to my body, my family, yada yada.  The only answer I have is:  love.  When I see somebody hurting, I want to help.  When I see a woman/man/family that can not grow, it breaks my heart. 
When I realize how easily I could help them fix that, how can I say no? 
If you saw a wounded child on the side of the road, how could you not help them?
Would it matter if that child were your own?  Would it matter if that infertile woman was your sister?  Sadly, it would. 
And then I think of all of the other ways in which we, as a society, do not show love.  When we hate people because of their race, their religion, their gender, their sexual preference.  And I realize that even though we claim to love each other, we pretty much pick and choose who we want to love.
And then I get angry.
I was raised by a mother (and, I must give credit, a religion) that taught me to love everyone.  I was taught that every single human being is a child of God, regardless of anything else, and that was the most important thing.  I was taught "Jesus said love everyone".  I never thought to question that statement.  I love everyone.  Well, I don't love everyone, honestly, there are people I really don't like.  But I don't like them for personal reasons, not for anything silly like the color of their eyes.
I didn't realize at the time that most people teach "love everyone" to their children, and then, through their actions, teach their children who "everyone" really is.  Luckily for me, my mother really did love everyone, so I never learned how not to love everyone.
As I have grown, my view has changed on many things.  I don't know that I even know what God is anymore, so I don't know how well I can connect everything to Jesus, but I do know that whatever you believe God is- whether He is a She, Mother Earth, a pantheon of gods, a spirit that lives in each of us, the power of our own minds, the collective spirit of all living things, whatever- that that God is love. 
I no longer prescribe to any specific religious views.  The only principle that I really prescribe to is love.
I am going to love everyone I can. 
When I look at people- it will be through the eyes of love.
When I vote- it will be through the eyes of love.
I am totally, completely, undeniable, and irrevocably imperfect.  I  make bad choices all the time, but I live with them, and when I can fix them and apologize to those I hurt, I do.  I say stupid things all the time- and I apologize all the time as well (my husband perhaps may disagree, but overall...)

I guess the point to this entire rant of mine (written while some Indiana Jones movie plays and my husband and father in law chat in a decidedly distracting manner) is to convey my frustration with all the time our society spends on issues like immigration, racial equality, gender bias, gay rights, and so many other "people" issues.  We are all people.  Can we just put our common humanity above the many differences between us?  Can we not just look on one another in the way my mother taught a young and innocent me?
It's all about love people, it's all about love.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

My grandmother


My grandma Mary died on Saturday.  She wasn't my biological grandma; she was technically my step grandmother.  But that sounds so ridiculous, don't you think?  In my heart, and in hers, she is my grandma.  Since I was ten years old, she has loved me, fed me, hugged me, taught me, and laughed with me.  She accepted me from the first moment I walked into her home.  When my daughter Katie was born, a relative stated that my Katie "wasn't really the first grandchild".  My grandma said, "oh yes, she is." 
When my son was born, my grandma flew down to visit.  She laid down on the couch with that baby, and she sang and cooed to him for so long I thought they would both fall asleep.
On the day she died, I felt so empty, so helpless and pitiful.  So, my daughter and I went and bought a beautiful candle and a candle holder.  We lit it in rememberance of our beloved grandma. 
I lit the candle
It was golden and beautiful
As I looked into it's flame
I realized that my grandma was a light
She taught us a love of good cooking
She taught us a love of travel
She taught us to live each day with joy
She taught us to chase our dreams
She taught us how to laugh
She taught us to be strong women
She taught us to stand up for our beliefs
She taught us how to embrace every day like it were the only one
She taught all of this by her example
She didn't just tell us stories
She lived them!
My grandma is a light
People were drawn to her because she shared that light
And now that light lives on
in the hearts of all she touched
We carry on her flame
it will never grow out.
As she dances with my grandpa Jack tonight, we remember not the darkness of her passing, but the bright, unending light she passed on to all of us.
Her flame grows brighter still.

Oh dear lady, how I miss you and love you.  I will hold you in the light and you will live forever in my heart and in the hearts of my children.  Three generations call you blessed, and generations to come will shine with the light you have left to us.