"God has no other hands than ours." Dorothee Sölle

Well. It's been a while, hasn't it? I have intended to blog countless times. But as with all good intentions comes an often less good reality to get in the way. Today, though, life happened so drastically that I literally can't help but write about it in order to make something resembling sense. Some of you may remember the educational trip in which I participated with Lancaster Theological Seminary's young adult program, LeadershipNow. We traveled to the borderlands of Mexico and learned about migrant life through a program called BorderLinks with the intention of being advocates for the children of God that governments have forgotten. We built relationships: with each other, with migrants who had yet to cross the desert into the United States, with those who had been deported from the United States, as well as those advocating for the basic human rights for all migrants.

Last summer, someone shared an opportunity with me to become trained to visit detained migrants in McHenry County jail (a county or two northwest of DuPage County). I went to this training in the hopes of living the words and promises I had said and made to the people I met in Mexico. Months and months passed and I heard nothing from this group, so I added the training to a list of life experiences and moved on. Then, a month or two ago, I got a letter with the list of the ministry team of which I was a part. Today was the first day I visited McHenry County jail and the people there.

I met a woman at her home and she drove the both of us to the jail. She lives about 15 minutes away from the jail and an hour from me. I am quite grateful that my dad drove me to her home because 2 hours on the train to sit idle with my nerves would not have been helpful. I sat in her home and waited nervously for her to be ready to leave. Once we were in her vehicle, I asked her to describe what the day would look like; she did.

We arrived at the detention center and I was instantly doing it wrong. Instead of putting my drivers license through the smaller-than-mailbox-sized slot in the wall, I attempted to go into the office to give it to the guards. After my continued confusion with the procedure, I locked all my things away in a locker and clipped on my red visitor tag. We were taken to a "library", if you could even call it that. We had a few minutes before the first group (all women) came in so I got to see the forms we were to use. One was a chart on which we could record information to make phone calls for the detainees, since making calls on their own behalf costs the money they don't have. The second sheet was a prayer request sheet that is passed on to local parishes that they might pray for those being detained.

Suddenly the room was full of women in orange jump suits. I talked to a woman from Mexico who has lived in Chicago her entire life. She has not seen her son in five and a half months. She has court next week. Please pray for her release. A woman from Korea can't be in touch with her mother because her mother's phone is blocked-- but her mother does not understand what "blocked" means, so the situation is not fixed. The women left. Men came in afterward. I will skip the second interaction I had and return to it since it is responsible for my lack of homeostasis. My third interaction was with two Polish men. One man was very excited to return to his family. The other couldn't figure out what he is meant to do with his life and hopes daily for some guidance. He couldn't fathom how I already knew what I want to do with my life.

We then broke for a half hour so the jail could do its head count.

After break, we met with another group of men. I chatted with an older man from Mexico who grew up here. He's only been around Illinois, Indiana, and Wisconsin. Our time ended and I chatted with a man from Zambia, as well as another man from Poland. The older man from Zambia has relationships with the others with whom I was visiting. His wife is in dialysis. Please pray for her. The man from Poland shared some of his struggles with regard to his faith. How moving that after a few short minutes, he felt comfortable sharing something so private.

After this, I was driven to the train station and I came home to my place of comfort and privilege.

Let me return to the encounter I skipped. He is a man of only 24 years, from Mexico. We talked and laughed together for the entire 15 minutes we were able to spend together. He and I had an interaction together on the grounds of the callings and convictions of my faith. He and I were Christ to each other. When it was time for our time to end, I reached out to him for a hug, and we did. I was then scolded quite sternly for providing such an embrace. The note about not hugging the detainees was in a letter I had not read in two months. It is against the rules of the detention center, among other things. At the time, I was terrified. I shut down. I was worried that I would be asked to leave, or worse, that we all would. I was terrified that the guard monitoring the visits would pull me aside to scold me as well. Every other word from my mouth was an apology, and yet I was not told "it's alright, just don't do it again". That was really tough.

I believe I did the right thing by hugging that man. It may have been against the rules, or breaking protocol, but it was the right thing. If God has no other hands than ours, how do I not use those hands to be Christ to others? I am still unsettled in my spirit; this is the first time, really, that I have blatantly disagreed with an authority figure on behalf of Christ. I know that no one ever said following Christ would be easy. I think I was not prepared, today, to take such a new course of action for my faith.

Feedback? Prayers, please.

"Everything in the universe goes by indirection. There are no straight lines." Ralph Waldo Emerson

School has been in session for two weeks now. I'm pretty sure I knew this would happen, but I'm already behind and a little burned out. Six hours per week will be committed to student organizations. Thirteen hours per week are dedicated to working tours and Niebuhr Center combined. Twelve and a half hours will be spent in class. That doesn't really sound like a lot, but it feels like a lot. I'd love to say that I feel like I am contributing and furthering my education, but I can't really say that at all. I'm not sure if I am becoming a better person. I'm not sure of relationships. I'm not sure why I do the things I do. I'm not sure if I'm breaking promises I made to myself, to friends, and to God. I don't know how to rectify those broken promises. I can't understand if I am betraying who I am and the things which I believe. I want to think I am changing the way I see the world and the way I display who I am. I also feel like I'm taking 2 steps in an opposite direction, not necessarily backward, just in a direction I was not anticipating. I've found that I'm not as good of a listener or comforter as of late because I'm too concerned with my own matters. I don't give to my friends the things they may need from me. I don't know how to be a friend anymore. I feel really out of touch with God and with nature and with people in whom I have distinctly seen God. I feel like I am not compassionate or empathetic. I fear that I have run out of time to feel anything. All I feel is like the beginning of Garden State, where Andrew Largeman (Zach Braff) is sitting on the airplane with chaos all around him, but he does nothing but sit there. I am engaged in the chaos, but I still feel like I am separate from it. I know exactly how someone else would see my life and what someone else would do, but I never do it for myself. I have become far too concerned with what others think of me; I value their opinions more than my own. I can't hold my ground in a conversation; I play on quick wit or sarcasm or teasing to get me through. I can remember about 3 times in the past two weeks that I have had a genuine moment with someone when I wasn't trying so hard to be something I thought I was ready to be. This will be how this semester is, or I need to learn how to say no and advocate for my needs. I've always thought I was skilled in those departments, but they seem to have disappeared in my confidence in them. It seems I have a lot of rearranging to do.

“Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'" Mary Anne Radmacher

This entry is dedicated to one of my best friends.

She is amazing and is inspiring me to take some more action with my life and my body. I love her and I hope to be more like her.

“In a controversy, the instant we feel anger, we have already ceased striving for truth and have begun striving for ourselves” Abraham J. Heschel

Specifically: That quote is true and it's being tested today and I'm not happy about it.

Generally: I would love to be able to be able to choose how I handle situations. I get so caught up in my emotions that I can't see logically and I can't get past anything at all. It has really been detrimental to my life and will only continue to do so until I learn how the heck to keep myself on track. Anything else I say will just be a restatement of that sentence so this is where I am ending this.

I'm going to go read Twilight and escape this bullsht situation that I call my life.

“We grow neither better nor worse as we get old, but more like ourselves.” May Lamberton Becker

I'm starting to do a lot more on my own, I think. I'm becoming more self-reliant. I think. I'm not exactly sure. I'm doing things like making dinner more often, or stopping on my way home from work to get groceries. I bake. I'm currently attempting to make potato bread in the bread machine. I've been doing my own laundry for as long as I can remember. I don't do my own finances yet, but that's a bit over my head at this point. I take my own initiative to make appointments (or I will once I get back to school). I wanted to buy my own planner rather than wait for my parents to suggest to me that I get one.

I'm not sure if this is me actually growing up, or if it's me catching up to where I should be at this age. I'm not quite sure. I'm really excited to have pseudo-apartment style living this year. I feel more adult going into this year than I have for any other academic year. I feel a new dedication to my classes as well as the student organizations I intend on joining. That may be because I now have responsibilities in two of those clubs. Either way, I am feel like a part of a bigger picture. This feels like what adult life might feel like once I'm not in school anymore.

I'm also petrified that I'll get my own place some day and fall flat on my face and not know what to do. The things I enjoy are not things that will be helpful when I have to make my first rent payment. I also feel like I'm getting a little far ahead of myself here. It is a lifestyle choice of mine to enjoy the life I have while I have it while not worrying excessively about the future. I'll learn how to pay the bills when it's my responsibility to pay the bills. I'm getting a fish. That will be enough responsibility for a while.

I don't want to get burned out, but I also need to become a lot more independent and responsible. I am excited to schedule in work-out time with my roommate, Sarah, this term. I'm excited to have meetings and to be a relatively important piece of those meetings. I might go back to my grandma's for Thanksgiving without either of my parents. I want to live a full life, being myself, growing in to my self. It feels like a tricky balance: responsibility and development combined with having the fun a soon-to-be 19 year old should have. I know that I can do both: it's just doing it at the right pace that might become a bit of a challenge.

"If you're walking down the right path and you're willing to keep walking, eventually you'll make progress." Pres. Obama

So here's the deal. There's crap I shouldn't do and I do it anyway. The main one I have come across as of late is judging people based on their political thought systems. It doesn't matter what mine is like, though if you've spend 5 minutes with me, it would be quite clear where my values may rest. I haven't been directly confronted with specific people or issues that have caused me to think about this; politics are the way of life of most people in the United States, even if they don't name themselves a Democrat or a Republican.

The fact of the matter is, I judge someone every time I find out that he or she thinks a different way than I do. I know that a lot of people do that even if they don't realize it, but I often feel my prejudice is a bit more of a hindrance than I'd like it today. A girl I met once updated her status on facebook with a political statement with which I disagreed and I seriously considered deleting her. How immature of me. There is a guy I was attracted to once (and still would be if he didn't live 600 miles away) and whenever I tell someone about him I say, "he's cute, he's liberal, etc etc" and continue to list off traits I find appealing.

It's natural to be drawn to people who share the same values and ideals that you do, but I actually think my preconceived notions of all people who don't think the way I do will hinder me in the future from developing good relationships. I want to expand my horizons and see things in perspectives I may not have always considered. It is easy for me to say that, but if you stick me in a room with someone with traditional views, I will dismiss their ideas as ridiculous and old-fashioned the second they open their mouths.

I really dislike that this is my mentality, but the first step to fixing a problem is admitting that that problem exists. The bottom line is this: I do want to work with all people to make a better country, a better world. I do want to learn more about peoples' life experiences and other circumstances that lead them to believe what they do. I want to be challenged in my belief system, so that when it is challenged when it might be most crucial, I can defend what I believe and know why I believe it.

I have a feeling it will be one of the hardest things I will ever undertake, but I really need (and intend) to work on being more open minded to people with different political views than my own, while still learning and developing my own platform.

"After all this time?" "Always." // "the last enemy to be defeated is death"

Disclaimer: if you do not like Harry Potter, there is no point in you reading this entry. I completely nerd out.

I have been thinking about Harry Potter a lot lately (more so than usual) for a couple of reasons.

01. Half Blood Prince came to theaters (you have been living under a rock if you did not know this.)

02. I recently (as in yesterday) finished rereading Deathly Hallows.

I am thinking mostly about Snape. In my opinion, he is one of the greatest characters in the series, if not the greatest. I really admire his love for Lily. When I read The Prince's Tale chapter, I am completely blown away again and again. The compassionate, romantic Snape has never before been exposed to the readers, but it still fits. It suddenly all makes sense. Besides finding out that he is indeed with the Light, we find out so much truth about his core character. It is even clear in his dying action: looking Harry in the eyes. Lily's eyes.

Dumbledore always said it was love that protected Harry. Voldemort never believed it and Harry rarely did. Love did protect Harry: Lily's love for Harry, supplemented by Snape's love for Lily. Even though, to Snape, Harry was the symbol of everything he had wanted. Harry is a representation of Lily's love for someone else. Snape had every reason to detest Harry- the son he never had with Lily. Despite that, Snape continued risking his life for love. Maybe he thought that he owed it to Lily; to protect what she loved was to protect her memory.

Oh, Snape. I hope to someday love as you did.

-----Completely Different Topic, While Still HP Related-----

Remus Lupin has the crappiest life of all the characters who I've contemplated so far, and he handles it really poorly.

In school, he was sort of the less cool counterpart to James and Sirius, his only dignity coming from the fact that he was (and always is) 10x cooler than Peter Pettigrew.

He grows up and James is murdered.

For 13 years, he believes his other best friend to be a murderer, and even if he wasn't, Sirius would still be locked up in Azkaban.

Even when THAT is cleared up, Sirius dies two years later.

Meanwhile, Peter Pettigrew just continues to be a douche bag Death Eater in Voldemort's pocket.

Then he marries Nymphadora Tonks, which is cool, except for how he doesn't really love her 100%.

Harry, then, calls him out on his crappy behavior so Remus knows he can't hide behind his "for the cause" attitude.

AND! during all of this, he is a werewolf, a lifestyle accompanied by terrible stigma.

Things start to look up for Remus. He has a kid and seems pretty pleased about it.

Though he doesn't know it, things against Voldemort are going pretty great, relatively speaking.

And then he goes and dies. Talk about a crappy life. It makes me sad to think about.

His happy ending, though, is in death, I suppose. He is on with all of those who died before him: James, Sirius, Lily, Tonks. This sounds trippy, but I think that when I have accepted that death actually happens to people, I will understand more of who Remus Lupin is and be able to look on his life with hope that things are better for him.