Mission: Possible

Coke and Cassaba Cake

2012-03-02T13:06:00.003+08:00

One day last week my mission was to track down a certain family from the slum that Teresa and I were friends with last year. We had heard that their family was affected by Sendong, and Teresa had sent a donation to pass on to them. My faithful friend Rocsan accompanied me in our treasure hunt. First we went to the slum area, where their neighbors told us that they were at one of the evacuation centers.

Joniel and his family at our home last year

So we rode a jeepney one rainy evening to the Patag area. The evacuation center turned out to be a basketball court, filled with people sitting around, cots for each family, I assume, and people's belongings. It was loud, and disorganized and their was no privacy at all. We asked around, and were overjoyed to see the familiar face of our thirteen-year old friend Joniel.

Joniel speaks no English, and my Visaya is still pretty rotten so Rocsan asusual did the talking. Where was the rest of his family? His dad was at work (working as a security guard) and his mother and siblings were at their church back at the slum. We hopped back into the jeepney with Joniel, and made our way back to the slum area.

In an empty hall, we found his slim pretty mother, Jona, and the other four kids aged 2 to 12. They were so excited to find us. Apparently they had several times returned to the apartment where we used to stay, trying to find us. Ate Jona told us that they had sought shelter at their church (they are Protestant) because the evacuation center was too far from the kids' school, and they had no money for the 7 pesos motorella ride to take them to school every day. She said that the evacuation center was too loud for the kids to sleep.

I asked about their experience during the floods. She said that their entire family had climbed up the bars of an advertisment billboard, with the dad clutching their two-year old son, to escape the waters of the flood. I can't even imagine how scary that must have been for them all.

I handed Ate Jona the donation in an envelope. As we talked, she looked at me and asked if she could open the envelope. I said sure. Within a few minutes she had used some of the money to buy Rocsan and me some Coke and a piece of cassaba cake.

If my family had no food, no money and hardly any belongings, I would probably have all that money and more spent in my head already. But her first thought was an act of generosity and hospitality.

It seems like the less you have, the more generous you are. I guess that's not always true, but it has been the experience of many of our missionaries, that the poor are the quickest to give. It's a reminder for me too- "Freely you have received; freely give." Matt 10:8

Life After Sendong

2012-02-24T13:31:00.009+08:00

A couple of nights ago I spent the night at my friends, Rocsan and Omar’s new home in ‘Tent City’, one of the evacuation camps where survivors of Sendong have been relocated. It was really interesting to see how their lives go on, how people have been helping them, and how contented they seem.

Rocsan, who is the Mama of the camp a.k.a. the camp manager

The camp site was located up in the hills about a half hour ride from the city. The weather was cool (according to them cold, according to me perfect). The blue tents donated by an Australian relief organization were spacious and waterproof.

The tents they call home

They had been there for a month, and thanks to the help that poured in from international organizations, the government and local groups, they seem to be okay. Each family was given two little solar powered lights. They are given food packs with rice and canned goods every week. Rocsan, who is the camp manager, told me that they are hoping people will give them money too so they can buy fresh vegetables- that’s not something that would be donated. She just contacted a group who will be giving each family 500 pesos, so she was thrilled.

The tent that won an award for being the 'best-kept tent'

A community kitchen was constructed by Del Monte, so people can cook on individual gas stoves.

Gas stoves and wood stoves

Toilets, or comfort rooms, as they call them here have been built, as well as makeshift bathrooms. Some of them go to the school next door to bathe and use the toilets.

Bathrooms

Indian-style toilets!

It’s obviously not the most comfortable life, but I am impressed at how peacefully they have adjusted to their new life here. They will most likely be here for another five or six months before they can get permanent homes. I heard that this is one of the more organized camps.

I had a good time hanging out with Omar and Rocsan, who have been good friends to us. Rocsan showed me around the camp, and people smiled and greeted me as I passed. They probably thought I was another rich benefactor, but as I told Rocsan, I came only with prayers (which are just as valuable). We sat in their tent later and even had time to talk about some problems they are going through, and pray about it. We visited the chapel leader who lives close by (they sometimes ask her if they can store food in her refrigerator), and she was very kind to me. She even invited us to eat breakfast at her home the next morning.

The foam and pillows in the tent were very comfortable, and as I dropped off to sleep, I heard someone drop in and ask Omar and Rocsan all sorts of questions about me. I like to think I understood because my Visaya has gotten better, but I think that the English interspersing the conversation was enough for me to figure it out. I was supposed to go to sleep before Omar and Rocsan, who slept in the outer compartment of the tent, because they snore and I am a light sleeper.

Household chores continue

I woke up through the night with the snoring and the noises and the newness, but fell asleep easily. The camp began stirring before 4.30m am- there were people moving around, announcements on the loudspeaker, roosters crowing, and water splashing. I awoke, and with my missionary gift of falling asleep easily, went back to sleep till 7 am.

We went over to Ate Puri’s home for breakfast, and soon after headed back down the rocky road to get back home. And yes, I did come back and take a nap.

A Joy Day

2012-02-22T17:00:00.004+08:00

I've been in a bit of a daze for the past ten days, trying to adjust to being back in missions, and on my own, and away from family, and hoping to rediscover the joy of doing God’s will. I talked to my mother, who encouraged me to persevere, and I read this article, and it was like God was speaking directly to me.

And then, yesterday was a Joy Day. In the morning, I met the FMC missionaries who are stationed at Malaybablay, a hilltop town a few hours away. They had come to CDO to renew their visas. It was such a relief to meet ‘my’ people, who have the same vision and mission, and so many of the same struggles, and challenges. Sarah was my closest friend during Intake and my time in the States, and helped me feel loved when I was sad and far from home. I had met Rebekah at our ‘Come and See’, a week-long pre-Intake retreat in June 2010. Her holiness, simplicity and love impressed and inspired me. And then I got to meet the Romero family- Lindsey and Sammy and their cute little missio‘mary’s- Evie and Anders. It was just a brief meeting, but it made me feel so happy and encouraged.

Then at 4 pm, accompanied my faithful friend Gen, who is a campus ministry missionary, I headed for the orphanage that Teresa and I used to visit outside the city. I had lost the number of the orphanage social worker, so no one knew we were coming. I hadn’t prepared a session because I wasn’t sure if the kids would be free, but I thought I would just go and say hi to them and tell them I was back in the Philippines. We got off the jeepney and walked through puddles and mud (I forgot to wear my waterproof slippers) surrounded by the beautiful green hills. As we walked into the compound, we couldn’t see anyone around. It was too wet for the kids to play out, and the social worker had the day off, we found out later.

So we walked down the path to the building where the kids lived. As we approached some of the kids saw me and started shouting ‘Ate (Ah-tay) Susanna!’ They ran up and took the traditional ‘blessing’, by lifting my hand to their foreheads, and then hugged me. They were so thrilled. I felt like an old friend. They pulled me inside, and sat me down on a chair, and then sat down around me. I wasn’t sure what to do, because I didn’t have anything ready. And small-talk isn’t that easy because they spoken English is limited, although they mostly understand me. But as we chatted a bit, and sang some of the old songs, they said “Ate! We have the bibles!” They ran off and brought me two bibles, one was the bible we had given one of the older kids.

“Shall I tell you a story?”

Eyebrows lifted. (That means yes.)

They were so ready, so eager. I told them the story of the Good Samaritan, and Gen translated for me. “Jesus wants us to help people even if they are not our friends,” I told them. “That’s not always easy, right?” They thought about it and lifted their eyebrows again.

Then we talked about Ash Wednesday and Lent, about prayer, fasting and almsgiving. It always feels strange to talk to kids who have nothing about almsgiving. They are ‘the poor’. But I guess everyone has something they can give. “If you see someone who needs help, you could help them.”

We prayed together, and then went to eat a little snack because it was one little girls’ birthday. She has been the most eager and interested of them all, and loves reading the bible story book that we used. I wished I had known it was her birthday, I could have brought her a little gift. I remember the joy of little gifts when you’re young, and I guess especially when you have no family. I searched through my bag, but couldn’t find anything I could give. So I gave her my chain and cross from around my neck. What a gift- sweaty, tarnished, old. But maybe still of some value to her.

I left that day feeling like a missionary again, remembering why I had come, and resolving to work on my Visaya so I can actually catch all the jokes that they make.

Happy Lent, readers! A season of grace, of change and of new beginnings. Make the most of it!

Year Two Begins

2012-02-16T14:58:00.003+08:00

So I have begun my second year of missions as I arrived in Cagayan de Oro city on Monday morning. I am alone, as the Alvarez family who I will be serving with on Camiguin island will only arrive in March.

I was welcomed with love and hospitality by the community here- I was picked up at the airport by one friend, and am living for these two weeks with another friend. I celebrated Valentine's day twice- once with the singles from community at a nice restaurant on the 13th, and once with the youth of the community's campus ministry with dinner and a talk on the best Love of all- the personal intimate love of Jesus. It was good to see all the familiar faces of youth I've worked and lived with in the past.

But it was still hard to leave family again, and come back to a world that is not my own. The weather is hot and humid, it rains a lot, and travelling for 26 hours wiped the energy out of me. So I've been feeling tired and a little down for the past few days. Plus I have to re-accustom myself to cold baths, big cockroaches, crazy hair and no morning tea. Today's Psalm said "Look to him, and be radiant."

Radiant, hmm? Anyway, this poor soul cried, and asked the Lord to lift my spirits and give me a little of that radiance. I ate some breakfast (tuna and bread) and left the house for a meeting with the priest I will be working with on Camiguin. I knew I should eat lunch eventually, but I had lost my appetite, and just didn't want to bother. I know not eating is probably not a good idea, especially if I want to feel better. I vaguely thought I would buy a banana eventually. But the Lord is like my Mama. Or my Mama is like the Lord. Whatever. He decided to make sure that I ate. I met Fr. Joe at about noon, and he immediately said "We'll eat lunch and talk." We went to the convento, and I ate a good lunch of rice, fish, vegetables and even a cold cold Coke. Oh yeah. After that I spent some time just soaking in the Lord in the cool of an air conditioned Adoration chapel. And THEN I checked my mail and found that a friend is making a donation to my mission funds (something I've been worrying about).

So a lot more radiant right now. Thank you, Jesus.

P.S. No photos because I left my camera charger at home, and am waiting for someone to come from India to Cagayan to drop it off.

Visiting Old Mission Fields

2012-02-05T13:56:00.005+08:00

My class in 2009

My class in 2012

A couple of days ago I visited the school that I taught at a few years ago. It is a small school in a village outside the city, and I had taught a third grade class for a year. It was one of the most fulfilling experiences I have had, because I love teaching, and it was so easy to see the fruits of my work there.

Leaving my 13 third graders was hard, but going back to see them three years later was such a blessing. The kids were thrilled to see me, and showed it by holding my hands, giving me little gifts (like a kite), a card, putting mehendi on my hand, and telling me they had missed me.

Applying mehendi- a talent Indian girls develop

Mehendi hand

What was great was seeing how my kids had blossomed into confident, responsible young men and women from the harum-scarum little eight year olds I started with. I guess it's a reminder that the Lord uses the seeds we've planted, even once we have to move on, which is very reassuring for a missionary who often has to pack up and leave a particular place or job or mission.

I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. 1 Cor 3:6-7

Life in My Big Catholic Family

2012-01-30T21:12:00.004+08:00

Family at Christmas lunch

I've been living at home for the past couple of months after a year and a half away and am getting a new perspective on both the blessings and the challenges of living at home with my family. Actually there is so much I could write about my family, my first book should probably be about them. The only problem is my siblings will probably sue me. Just kidding. They wouldn't really. They would just kill me straight away.

So, here's a couple of thoughts on both the challenges and the blessings of living with my big Catholic family. (And yes, I now know by most big Catholic family standards, five kids is not exactly 'big'... right, Alvarezes and Eckstines? But in my world, it is.)

A few days after I got home, my father told me, "You better make a list of all you have to do." My response? "DADA! I've been living on my own for more than a year, I don't need to be reminded to make a to-do list."

And then my mum started a cooking course, where I cook dinner every other night... under her supervision. If you hang around at my house, it would not be unusual to hear statements like "Mother, I AM 25 years old, you know." "Don't be so proud." "It's time to let me make my own mistakes." Etc. etc.

Then of course living closely with a bunch of people means everyone is involved with everything that happens... and comments on it too. For example, this morning I decided to actually do a little exercise, spurred on by the 3 kilos I put on in the last month, and the fact that I was winded halfway through my first dance at a recent party with my friends. I knew I was totally out of shape, so I didn't want to announce any grand exercise plans. I tried to slip out of the house. But no.

Family member 1: "Where are you going?"
Me: "Um, to run around mutter mutter.."
"WHERE?"
"To run. A little."
Family member 2: "What? Where? I didn't hear!"
Me: "Aaargh."
I ran around my tiny neighbourhood, for less than ten minutes, and then came back upstairs. "That was quick!" comments my uncle. "Start small," I reply. My younger brother laughs.
Me: (Gnashes teeth)

So a lot of involvement. A lot of accountability. Family knows when you are being lazy, or selfish, or rude, or undisciplined. "Have you said your prayers?" "Are you going for Mass?" "You said you were going to go for a check-up, have you called the doctor yet?" "It's past 12, why are you still up?"

But when I'm mad at my myself for messing up on my resolutions yet again, I can run and confess to my mother, and ask for her wisdom, prayers and encouragement. When I want to go for daily Mass, I always have someone to go with. When I need to be accountable (hint: everyone who is serious about following God needs to be held accountable by someone), and need help following through with my decisions, I always have someone to switch off the wifi at 10.30 pm and wake me up with a hot cup of chai at 7.30 am. When I get a text from a struggling friend, I have someone who will pray with me for her.

Not to mention, there are SO many opportunities for humility. :-) I don't take them all, but.. I'm working on it.

When you're completely on your own, there is less opportunity for people to get on your nerves, but there is also less opportunity for you to learn how to love. So I guess living with my family reminds me of how imperfect and weak I am, how far from holiness (family knows you at your worst, so you can't fool them) and yet that God gives us opportunities for grace and forgiveness and healing and new beginnings through them.

A Little Pee Never Hurt Anyone

2012-01-27T13:19:00.002+08:00

A few days ago my mother and I walked down the street to visit with a group of construction workers' families who live in shanties in an empty plot of land. We had brought them some warm clothes and blankets from us and members of our community a few days before, because it had become very cold, and their flimsy homes were not much protection from the elements.

I still find it hard to talk to complete strangers, so my mother was the one who would be the main conversationalist. I always admire my mum because when I talk about all the social divisions in India, she is one person who I know who tries to overcome those divisions, talking to strangers, especially the poor. She and my dad and members of our prayer group used to regularly visit families in the slum when I was a kid. I'm still trying to get to where she is.

Anyway so there we were chatting with the women, (my contribution was making faces at the kids and asking their names) and feeling a little awkward (what else is new?). The kids were the cutest things, most didn't know any Hindi because they are from Karnataka, so the oldest kid was the one who introduced the rest to me. We chatted for a while, then left because the women had just come back from work, and needed to cook for their families.

As we left, I suddenly heard a baby crying. We knew they had left a baby sleeping in a small one room guardhouse near the entrance of the field. We tried to signal to them that the baby was crying, but they were too far. I looked at my mum, and my mum looked at me. What should we do? I was torn... I knew the baby would be dirty and wet, and we were on our way home, and the families were close, and it probably wouldn't make a difference, etc. etc. But... How could I just leave a baby crying like that? My mum nodded, and I went into the room and picked up the half-naked baby. Yup, no diapers, obviously.

So of course I got some pee on my sweater. But the baby stopped crying! :-) Another little girl joined us soon and told us that the mother had gone to the shop. My mum made the baby smile, and then we handed her over to the babysitter.

So if we're looking for a moral to the story: A little pee never hurt anyone. Or babies are worth the pee they produce. Or angels can come disguised as dirty babies. (Hebrews 13:2) Or just say Yes- every little yes helps you make the bigger ones. If pee could stop me from loving a tiny baby, how could I ever learn to 'lay down my life for my friends'?

For those who are in the advanced levels of love and self-sacrifice, please ignore this entire post. This is for those who are still learning the basics of saying 'No' to selfish desires, and 'Yes' to the call to love.

Leper Colony

2012-01-26T13:13:00.002+08:00

One of the events in Kolkata that stood out to me was our visit to the Leper Colony. It was just a visit, we were not volunteering there, but it was a moving experience.

A whole bus load of foreign volunteers were taken to the home an hour away from the Motherhouse, with me as the only Indian as usual. It makes me wonder if Indians from other parts of India go there to volunteer at all, or if it's not even something we've thought of. Maybe people feel that there's enough to do in their own cities or towns, they don't need to travel to Kolkata to help the poor. For me, it was more of a pilgrimage. Yes, the poor are with us, everywhere, but what about the spirit that says "The miracle is not that we do this work, but that we are happy to do it."?

They gave us a little history about the leper colony before we went through the wards. I missed part of it because I got a little lost. Not unusual. Apparently it had started as a mobile clinic under the trees because they had no place to treat the lepers. Even after they got a place, the work was so difficult because the patients were violent, because of the way they had been treated in the past.

They said that there was a huge difference between those days, and now. And we got to see that for ourselves. We had to cross a railway track to get to the actual home. Yes, without an overbridge, or anything- just look to your right and you left, and run. I think that was more surprising for the non-Indians than for me.

As we approached the first ward (after a short stop at the creche/school for the children of the workers), a patient ran out and embraced each of us one by one. Can you imagine? How would you feel if someone told you your mission for the day was to embrace a leper? Only, when he did it, it felt so natural, so right. I'm not generally a very 'huggy' person (most Indians aren't), but I knew I was hugging Jesus. (And in case you were worried, none of the lepers were contagious, because they had all been treated.)

We walked through the wards, either shaking the hands of the patients or joining our hands to say 'Namaskar'. Many of them were missing fingers or were disfigured in some way. Most of the patients knew both Hindi and Bengali. I have always thought I couldn't speak Hindi, because we never spoke it at home, and although we studied it at school, I was too scared of being mocked to actually admit my ignorance, and managed to fake my way through school without ever having a conversation in Hindi.

But in Kolkata with a bunch of Americans, I realized that as little Hindi as I knew, I knew more than the other members of our group. So I tried, and was extremely surprised to find that I could actually have conversations. So as we met the leprosy patients, I said 'Namaskar! Aap kaise hain? (How are you?)' and watched as their faces lit up. They all seemed peaceful and happy, and at the same time so excited to have visitors and human contact. One of our missionaries, James, learned a few phrases in Bengali, and that was as effective and made them so happy.

What hard lives they have led. And yet the peace visible on their faces shows that they have come in contact with love. I was blessed to see one of the many fruits of Mother Teresa's love and faith.

With The Eyes of Christ

2012-01-20T20:19:00.008+08:00

This is an article I wrote for the latest edition of FMC's newsletter SERVE.

Five years ago I was working in an e-learning company in my city. I had my own little workspace, my own computer and a nice paycheck. My office was air-conditioned, protecting me from the uncomfortable wet monsoon weather, the chilly winters and the blazing summers. I could go through the whole day with my headphones on, with hardly any human contact and with no idea of what the weather was like outside. But something nagged at me. I kept seeing myself living in a bubble, cut off from the 'real world': the vast majority of people who worked outdoors, people who didn't have it as good as I did, people who had to deal with many discomforts in their daily life. I itched to leave, and within two years I did. I taught a third grade class in a village for one school year and then joined FMC as a foreign missionary.

First step out of the bubble: My third grade class in a village school

But even after I left that job, I realized that I still lived in that bubble. I had lived in it all my life. There are so many social divisions in India. I'm sure there are the obvious caste distinctions to most traditional Hindus, but there are so many other subtle, and equally rigid divisions. A maid will not sit down for a meal with her employer. An English speaker laughs at those who speak 'broken' English. A fair-skinned guy will rarely date or marry a dark-skinned girl. Nobody will ever notice or greet a street sweeper. Well, people in the city will almost never greet or smile or make eye contact with a stranger. No one makes small talk with office clerks or shopkeepers. No one will ever touch a beggar. Most time we won't even notice them, unless they tug at your clothes or thrust a begging bowl in your face.

And that was my life too, living in my educated, English-speaking, Westernized, Catholic bubble. When I walked down a street, I wouldn't see people. I didn't even realize it, but if you were not 'like' me, I didn't notice you. Not being able to speak much Hindi strengthened the division. I didn't dislike people, I just ignored them.

But God knew He had so much more in mind for me. He began to open my eyes in little ways over the years. In 2007, when FMC missionaries came on their first trip to India, I remember being with them at a church in Mumbai. As we walked out, I saw an old partly crippled woman coming up the steps to the gate. I moved aside so she could pass, but the FMC missionaries immediately moved towards her to help her up the steps. It jolted me because the thought hadn't even crossed my mind.

In my time in Mexico and the Philippines, God kept challenging me to see people with new eyes. And I began to change, slowly and sometimes reluctantly. Old habits die hard. But the real test came when I returned to India in November 2011 after a year and a half away. The Lord knew I would need help so He arranged an FMC short-term mission trip in Kolkata and Pune to get me going. He used the missionaries to help me see my fellow-Indians through new eyes- His eyes.

A stranger, a brother

Two evenings we went out with 'dispensas' for the many homeless people, a guitar, and a willingness to tell anyone and everyone that Jesus loved them and wanted them to know Him. As this bunch of Americans (and one little Indian) walked the streets of Kolkata, people flocked to us. Within moments of stopping to talk to someone, we would have a crowd around us. You know why? Because this was something different, something new. White Americans are akin to celebrities in India. They are on the top layer of the many, many layers in Indian society. Almost everyone will treat them with deference. 'And these superstars choose to hang out with us, the common man? Not talk down to us, but be with us? Treat us with respect, not condescension? Treat us not just as equals, but as brothers?' Remind you of Someone?

At one point a man who was chatting to us asked me 'Are you their guide?" I said "No, I am also a missionary. We work together." He couldn't get it. "You are friends?" "Yes," I said. "How do you like it? What is it like?" he asked. "It's good," I said, unable to explain with my limited Hindi that we are equals, we are friends, we are brothers and sisters with the same Father. I am no less than than them, and neither was he.

Becoming one like us

For the first time in my life, I looked at every passerby, every local sitting with a glass of chai, every vegetable seller, every ragged child, every old beggar as a precious soul, as a beloved child. How could I ignore them? They were His, as I am His. They don't know Him by name yet, does that make them less precious or less relevant? No, more, because He desires them to know His name and His love. I heard someone say once 'If Jesus is true for anyone anywhere, then Jesus is true for everyone everywhere.' What a thought! 'Lord, You love each of these people with the same tender, intimate, passionate love You have for me?"

A precious soul

I don't think I had smiled at so many strangers in my life. The Lord blessed my Hindi, and I found it was not as bad as I thought it was. I prayed with people, I asked them about their lives, I saw them. One evening we stopped to help a poor woman begging for medicine for her son. We prayed for her, then took her to a pharmacy to buy the medicine. As I waited for them to get the medicine, I suddenly felt a pair of arms slip around me. "I'm so happy that you came," the woman said as she hugged me. A barrier broken.

Create in me a new heart, O Lord

This is the God we have- a God who destroys the barriers created by sin, prejudices and hard-heartedness, and gives us new hearts with which to love and new eyes with which to see the world. A God who gave up His privilege, and stepped out of His comfort zone to love us and show us who He really is and who we really are. You and I are called to do the same.

“Seeing with the eyes of Christ, I can give to others much more than their outward necessities; I can give them the look of love which they crave.” ― Pope Benedict XVI, God Is Love (Deus Caritas Est)

My Experience with the Missionaries of Charity

2012-01-10T14:58:00.009+08:00

I helped staff a short term mission trip in Kolkata and Pune for two weeks in December. I will be sharing some of my experiences and thoughts about that time.

I was both excited and apprehensive to be going to volunteer with the Missionaries of Charity in Kolkata: excited, because I have heard so much about Mother Teresa and her love, and you know, she’s OUR saint and all that (yes I know she isn’t beatified yet), but also apprehensive because I KNEW I didn’t have that kind of love, and was afraid of making it even more obvious to myself. I almost wanted to stay home. But the Lord wanted me there, and off I went with my mission partner of the last year, Teresa, on a 27 hour train ride to Kolkata. (Also known as Calcutta. But only as Kolkata if you have a proper patriotic, anti-British attitude.)

We were joined by a team from the States a few days later, and for less than a week we joined the Missionaries of Charity in their work with the poor and suffering. Let me write some of the things that struck me.

At the Motherhouse

The number of the foreign volunteers: Over the week that we visited the Motherhouse, I must have seen at least 200 volunteers from different countries. Every day we would meet the volunteers for a simple breakfast of bananas, tea and bread, and every day I would see new groups of people! I talked to people from New Zealand, Japan (konichiwa!), Mexico, the US, Australia, Germany, France, Singapore. So many people, from different worlds, and backgrounds, and ages from high-schoolers to retirees, but all inspired by the work and love of Mother Teresa.

The tenderness of the volunteers: It wasn’t just their presence. It was their love. As I entered a home for physically and mentally handicapped children, the volunteers who had been there for a longer time greeted the children by name. They hugged them, and held them, they joked with them, they tenderly fed them. Many of the children were hardly responsive, heads lolling as they sat in wheelchairs. To those unused to the sight, their infirmity could repulse you. Something within us is repelled by the sight of broken minds and bodies. I speak for myself too.

A statue of Mother Teresa near her tomb

And yet... what could motivate people to such tenderness? What could transform that disgust to compassion? ‘The love of Christ urges us on.’ I don’t know what motivated each of the volunteers, but I do know what motivated Mother Teresa. “I wouldn't touch a leper for a thousand pounds; yet I willingly cure him for the love of God.” She saw Jesus hidden in the distressing disguise of the poor. For the first time I thought “That could be me.” And soon after that, “That IS Jesus.” Two very motivating thoughts.

Washing clothes is God’s work too: So most people wanted to work with the children, play with them, feed them, teach them. But we got sent up to the terrace to wash clothes, since we were only volunteering for five days. Every day there was a huge load of laundry. And EVERYTHING was done by hand. Or foot, as the case may be. The bossy ‘maasi’ (auntie) ordered us around. ‘Dance, Uncle!’ she demanded as she pointed to a big bucket of dirty clothes (and diapers). She kept us moving “Squeeze!”, “Hang it here”, “Fold it like this!” Since I was the only one who spoke a little Hindi, I got the majority of the abuse. What was the use of yelling at those foreigners when they didn’t understand a word she said? Here was a nice Indian who could understand and thus berated for everyone’s stupidity. Lol. It was actually kinda funny.

Laundry on the terrace

Anyway, so we squeezed and wrung, and hung, and folded the stained and ragged clothes, till we were tired. I’ve never handled so many cloth diapers, or had to touch other people’s underwear. (Nice underwear is a good gift for the poor, it is a luxury for so many.) And we thought, Wow, these women do this EVERY DAY? It was good to work with our hands, and good to serve the inhabitants of the home in a small way.

Contemplatives in action: Every morning we awoke at 5 am, left our guesthouse at 5.30 am, and were sitting in silence with the Sisters at the Motherhouse by about 5.45 am. Mass started at 6 am, followed by breakfast. Most people know that waking up early is NOT something I regularly do. But this was... beautiful. Starting our day with the Lord, receiving grace and strength from Him, finding that quiet place at the centre of His Heart. Mother Teresa said “I don't think that I could do this work for even one week if I didn't have four hours of prayer every day.”

It wasn’t just action, or action based on an ideology. It was action that had sprung from an experience of love. I often think that that is the difference between social workers and missionaries. And that’s the first thing to check on if you feel cynical, hopeless, uninspired and unable to love.

There was so much more, but this will do for now. People come looking for the secret of Mother Teresa. But it is no secret. It is Jesus- a Love freely available to us all.

Christmas Gifts

2011-12-23T22:55:00.004+08:00

I know... I know.. It's been ages since I last posted. But SO much has been happening that I haven't had time to process stuff, let alone blog about it. I've been too tired to think or shower or write. And when it comes to choosing between showering and blogging I choose showering. Usually.

So last Advent and Christmas I was very far from home. I was with family in the States. For the first time, I felt a little isolated, far from Christian community, the familiar tradition of family prayer and even far from the real meaning of Christmas as I had no real opportunity to serve or be selfless, or look after anyone but myself.

This Advent has been one of the most blessed and meaningful ones I have ever experienced. Instead of me bringing the Birthday Boy my gifts, He has been surprising me with one after another. 'From His fullness we all have received grace upon grace.' Jn 1:16

At the beginning of December, Teresa and I left for Kolkata where we were joined by a team of missionaries from the States for a short-term mission trip. We spent two weeks there and then a few days in Pune praying together, serving the poor, preaching the gospel and trying to love everyone we met.

Statue at Missionaries of Charity Motherhouse

There was tiredness, sickness, two visits to the ER, shocking dirt and poverty, and feelings of insufficiency. But there was grace that came to the rescue every time. We had answered prayers, messages through Scripture, and for me a renewed sense of joy and purpose. If Jesus is true for anyone, then He is true for everyone.

Christmas Eve is tomorrow. I am content. I have never felt closer to the Lord, or more at peace with what He is making of me, and the way of life He has called me to. I know I am not there yet, but I know I am on the right path. I can see the ways He has been changing me and making me the woman He always planned for me to be. I know it is not me, but HIM. And in that lies my joy.

Finding my joy in the Lord

Are you looking for joy and peace and all those nice things people keep wishing each other in silly texts and FB posts and greeting cards? Carve out an hour of quiet in your crazy day tomorrow (yes, I know you have to buy last minute gifts, and cook, and decorate, and make sweets, and hang out with relatives) and just BE with Him. I promise I will too. Grace is waiting for us.

Goodnight, world.

Home Sweet Home

2011-11-21T22:22:00.004+08:00

Back with my Mama

Guess what? After more than eight months in the Philippines, and almost a year and a half away, I have finally returned home! What a blessing it is to be here- I am appreciating all the little blessings of home- Indian food, tea made by my parents, my little nieces, a bed, an oven, a stocked kitchen, wifi, tv, siblings to hang out with, long conversations, cool weather... the list goes on.

But in all this, I remember a little story told by a Christian leader in the Philippines. He said he had returned home after his first mission away from home. He arrived at the airport and was expecting to be greeted with fanfare, by all his family and friends. He was disappointed when only his mother was there to pick him up. He showed his disappointment and asked her why there was no one there. His mum said these words- "Son, you're not home yet."

I'm not home yet. I enjoyed my homecoming, but I know that this is just a little taste of what the final homecoming will be.

All along the way I felt the presence of God in different ways. The day before I left the Philippines, I was feeling horrible- I had a streaming cold, my body hurt and I was beginning to get worried again. Sure I had flown across the world before, but what if I had forgotten something? What if something went terribly wrong? Like my uncle who had once booked his plane tickets months in advance only to find shortly before his departure that the airline had shut down and they hadn't bothered to let him know. Okay, not exactly like that, but who knows? Anyway, so all day I asked everyone who said bye to me to pray for me to feel better.

Guess what? From the time I left on the 12th morning, I was perfectly well. I stopped sneezing, I forgot I even had my handkerchief and medicine. (Thank you for your prayers, everyone!) Everything went perfectly smoothly. I had been worried about getting from the domestic terminal to the international terminal in Manila. And then the lady next to me in the plane offered me a ride. All my bags just about met the weight limits. A friend working at one airport allowed me through with a few extra kilos on my baggage. I felt totally comfortable and like an experienced traveler. I especially enjoyed not looking like a 'foreigner' anymore, as I observed ALL the foreigners at the international airport, and then all the Indian faces at my departure gate.

I got home at 5 am on Sunday morning, after 25 hours of travel, in time to catch a few hours sleep before the surprise my siblings and I were planning for my parents' 30th wedding anniversary.

The Lord will keep
your going out and your coming in
from this time on and for evermore.
Psalm 121:8

(P.S. I know I haven't written for ages. Thanks Anonymous, for reminding me that people actually read my blog.)

Christian Craziness: Praying Over Inanimate Objects

2011-10-19T12:35:00.002+08:00

I have the most awesome God ever.

Really.

A few nights ago in the middle of the night, our fan stopped working. I woke up from a bad dream because of the heat and tried to put it back on. It wouldn’t start. I unplugged it from the extension, and plugged it into the wall outlet. Nothing. I resigned myself and went back to sleep. The next morning I woke up and tried it again hoping the whole thing had been a bad dream. Nope.

To realize how much our fan means to us you have to experience the weather here in Cagayan de Oro. It is ALWAYS hot. We don’t have a winter. At the beginning we wondered if we would survive without air-conditioning. But of course that was way too expensive and fancy for poor missionaries. So someone donated a fan, and we moved it from room to room as we needed it.

Sometimes we would curl around it, hoping to absorb more coolness from it. Sometimes in the night as it rotated from Teresa to me, I felt like I couldn’t bear the few seconds when it was off me, and on her. One time Teresa had a bible study with a friend in the next room, while I worked in our bedroom, so she borrowed the fan. And I took off half my clothes and felt like I couldn’t move as my whole body was bathed in sweat.

Yes, that is how much we loved and depended on our fan.

And this preciousssss fan had stopped working.

“Maybe we can offer it up as a sacrifice..” said Teresa.

“Yup,” I said dolefully. “Looks like it.” (I know, I know, sacrifices are supposed to be offered joyfully, not grudgingly.)

“Maybe we can pray over it,” suggested Teresa.

“Yeah, we should.” But we didn’t. (Man, those Christians are crazy.. praying over a fan?)

We survived yesterday because it had been raining all day, and was the coolest that the city has been since we got here seven months ago.

This morning I was working on my laptop and it began to get overheated. Uh oh. The fan was needed to cool down my laptop too.

Finally I decided it was time. Yup, to pray over my fan. Don’t worry, I’ve thought people who did stuff like that were crazy too. My parents do it. My mum prays for hairdressers when they’re cutting her hair. She used to enlist us when we were little to pray over her cakes so they wouldn’t be ruined by our unpredictable oven. Our mission founder, Ms. G, writes about a time she prayed over a donated refrigerator which had leaked for years… and it stopped leaking to the wonder of the person who donated it to her.

So I carried the fan back into the room, plugged it in and said aloud “Lord, I know that if you want to mend this fan, you can. One word and it will be fine. I truly believe it. So right now, if it is your will, I pray that you WILL fix this fan for us. Amen. P.S. I'm really hot.” And I switched it on. And the blades didn’t stir. Then I changed the angle of the fan… and the blades whirred into action.

Yup. I have an awesome God, who is teaching me to trust that like the little things, He can also control the big things, when I allow Him to.

P.S. Disclaimer: He says yes to some things, no to others, but 'Trust Me!' for all things. It's just funny some of the things He says yes to.

Bits and Pieces Part 2

2011-10-10T12:51:00.004+08:00

Since I never seem to get down to writing a thoughtful blog post about my life here in missions, I decided that I may as well post a few short glimpses of my life here. Something better than nothing, yes?

SOMETHING UPLIFTING

So last Saturday was the feast of St. Therèse, the little flower of Jesus, patron saint of missionaries, and my special patron saint for this year. We celebrated by going for Desert Day in the morning to the river near our friend Rocsan’s house just outside the city. It was beautiful!

Desert day at the river

And that evening we invited Rocsan, her husband Omar and another friend Dan who are all local missionaries working with an evangelistic programme here for dinner and our community way of welcoming the Lord’s Day.

Omar, Dan, Rocsan and I

We ate inun-unan (fish cooked in vinegar with ginger, garlic and onion) and a weird potato salad that I made.

Inun-unan... mmmm

Rocsan is one of our most faithful mission partners and has been accompanying us and translating for us at both the orphanage and the school. It was a beautiful way to celebrate Saint Therèse with missionaries who have the same child-like faith, simplicity and faithfulness in small things as the Little Flower.

SOMETHING SAD

On the way to school one day, our motorella stopped at a traffic light, and a little boy came up to beg from us followed by an older girl, about 15 years old. She saw me and called me guapa, and asked for money. As our motorella drove off, we looked back and I saw with the other beggars a familiar face- it was one of my third grade students. She is about 13 or 14, always looks unkempt and is cross-eyed. She saw us and recognized us. I realized that they were from the tribal communities who we have been told beg for a living.

I asked one of the teachers about her later. She said “I tell her not to beg, that she must come to school.” “But why do they beg? Do they have any source of income” “No, they have to beg for food.” How can you convince a child to come to school if the choice is between food and education? It makes me feel so hopeless because there ARE no jobs... everybody struggles with getting jobs, even those who are educated. How do we help them? Well, we thought about trying to raise money for a scholarship- so that at least some of them get fed regularly when they attend school.

SOMETHING FUNNY

We have the most random things happen to us. Once we bumped into an old beggar named Alexandro, whom we met and bought food for at Easter.
Alexandro: Hello! Hello! I’ve been writing to you many times! (Unintelligible) I have a number. I wrote it down. (He pulled out a sheaf of bills) Here it is! (He pointed at a handwritten number- ‘637’)
Me: What does it mean?
Alexandro: It’s the number of countries in the Middle East.
Me: ???
Alexandro: it was nice to meet you! Bye!
Me: Er... bye!

SOMETHING THOUGHT-PROVOKING

Some weeks ago Teresa and I went swimming for the first time in six months. We were befriended by some guys at the pool (This happens a lot. It’s hard to figure out how to be a missionary and ward off unwanted attention from boys at the same time. I blame Teresa for being American though.) Anyway so I landed up talking to one guy and in the course of the conversation...

He: I thought that all foreign countries are rich.
Me: No, there is poverty in many parts of the world.
He: Is your family in India rich?
Me: Not at all.
He (without a hint of sarcasm): But you eat three meals every day?
Me: Uh yes.
Maybe we are rich.

SOMETHING REALLY REALLY COOL

So during the nine days preceding the feast of St. Therese, Teresa and I prayed a novena to her. I have not been exposed to a lot of Catholic devotions in my life (except the Rosary), so this was something new for me. I have been rediscovering so many new and cool things about my Catholic faith- teaching about faith really helps me to get to know it! Like Pope John Paul II in Redemptoris Missio “For missionary activity renews the Church, revitalizes faith and Christian identity, and offers fresh enthusiasm and new incentive. Faith is strengthened when it is given to others!”

Anyway so I said my novena and asked St. Therese to pray for some special intentions. On the third day of the novena, I was at a coffee shop working on my laptop, when I suddenly got a very strong whiff of roses. I looked around expecting to see a romantic girl clutching a large bouquet of roses... but there was not a rose in sight. No one had entered the coffee shop in the previous few minutes, and no one was moving around. The scent lasted just a few seconds and then it was gone. I normally don’t have the strongest sense of smell (food burns while I fiddle:-D), but this time I immediately was able to identify it. Perhaps a little sign from a little flower? Apparently she’s done it for many people. I’ll just have to wait and see if it means my prayer will be answered.

Good Reads Part 1

2011-09-26T13:28:00.004+08:00

So I thought that today I would just post a few good articles that I have been reading, and would love for EVERYONE to read.

The title itself makes you curious.. And of course as a missionary, I totally get his point.

As an atheist, I truly believe Africa needs God

A small incident in the life of Catholic blogger, Matthew Archbold. It makes me think of what our founder-director, Ms. Genie calls 'god-incidences'. I think that most missionaries are always noticing them.

My $3 Lesson in Christianity

An old interview with Mother Teresa. She is such an interesting person. It's easy to think 'living saint' and then think of her as some kind of supernatural being. But she was just a little soul who said 'YES' to God.

Interview with Mother Teresa

Party Time!

2011-09-19T12:08:00.009+08:00

On Saturday, our apartment had it's first birthday party! A few months ago Teresa had befriended a young boy who knocked on our door asking for plastic bottles. His name is Joniel and he has three sisters and a brother. They live in a poor area in the city, not far from where we live. Teresa visited them with a friend to translate, and gradually we became friends. Joniel and one or more of his sisters would turn up at our home almost everyday and we would share our simple dinner of tuna and rice with them. They coloured pictures and read story books.

Teresa found out that it was Joniel's birthday on Sept 15 and his little brother's as well. So she planned a little birthday party for them on the 17th.

It was awesome!

We sang 'Happy birthday' for them, prayed for them and cut a colourful cake.

We made and decorated our own party hats.

We ate cake, loved it so much that 'we' took second pieces that we couldn't finish.

We played 'Pin the tail on the Donkey' which was totally new to everyone.

We played passing the parcel, also a novelty. The little sister who won the prize almost jumped with joy when she saw the box of crayons which she had won. We had two awesome friends, Aiza and Rocsan who translated for us, helped us get ready for the party and were missionaries with us.

Their whole family came, including their grandparents, mother, siblings, uncle and aunts. At the beginning, when everyone was sitting around rather uncomfortably trying to figure out what was okay, the grandfather suddenly broke into a little dance to the music that was playing. It was awesome! He told us he was the datu, the chief of his tribe.

At the end, the mother prayed for us! We were so blessed to have the Lord send this family into our life, give us the chance not only to help them, but also be loved by them.

Meeting God in a Jeepney

2011-09-12T11:53:00.003+08:00

I’ve been reading a book called ‘Abandonment to Divine Providence’ by Jean-Pierre Caussade. In it he says ‘God speaks to every individual through what happens to them moment by moment.’

Yesterday Teresa and I went to buy some stuff at the mall. As usual we travelled by the local transport- jeepney. We were sitting in a crowded jeepney, and opposite us sat a blind man with a guitar singing a song in a local language. Next to him was a younger boy holding a plastic bottle cut in half with a few coins in it.

As he sang, I noticed he had a beautiful voice. Suddenly he started singing a new song. From that ragged man, in the middle of a crowded, dirty and noisy Filipino city, came the beautiful melody of an old Charismatic song- Give Thanks with a Grateful Heart. It was my grandfather’s favorite song, and we sang it at his funeral fifteen years ago.

I could hardly believe my ears. Jean-Pierre Caussade talks about the mundaneness of the present moment disguising the beautiful presence and will of God. But for a moment, the disguise slipped, and i could see a glimpse of heaven, as angels sang those beautiful words.

I had been struggling with a dark mood the previous day, but as I heard the strumming of the guitar and the beautiful words, I began to sing along. My heart lifted, and once again I had ‘the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen’.

I slipped some money into the bottle, remembering Grandpa, and continued singing as we got off the jeepney and entered the mall.

Give thanks with a grateful heart,
Give thanks to the holy one,
Give thanks because he’s given Jesus Christ, Son.
And now, let the weak say I am strong,
Let the poor say I am rich
Because of what the Lord has done for us.
Give thanks.

P.S. That was one of the moments when I wished I had remembered my camera!

I Was Hungry...

2011-09-08T20:42:00.001+08:00

Pictures of Missions

2011-09-02T20:45:00.002+08:00

We asked the kids at the orphanage to close their eyes and imagine heaven... this was one kid's concept. I thought it was pretty cool.

What this picture looks like: One kid prays while the rest refuse "I will NOT listen to this God stuff!"

What this picture really is: "Close your eyes and ears and imagine everything is dark and quiet... that's how it is before the world began." All the kids respond except one kid who hears "Close your eyes" and assumes we're praying. Lol.

My Oasis

2011-09-02T20:42:00.001+08:00

A couple of days ago as I was praying, I brought to the Lord all the weight I was carrying-my anxiety, my indiscipline, my tiredness, my distraction, my guilt, my insufficiency. I’m the kind of person who ‘thinks too much’- who over analyzes, constantly evaluates myself and every situation in my life, and more often than not, feels like I’m not measuring up. But grace whispered to me ‘This is not the normal Christian life.’

As I prayed, I felt like the Lord was calling me to something new for the next three months. An oasis. A calmness, a peace, the quiet at the centre of the whirlwind. My life is still going to be crazy. We have heaps of ministry, plenty of unexpected twists and turns, and much to do to prepare for the future. But at the centre of it all, He wants to me to sit with Him. I visualized an oasis, a fresh green place, and me as a tree planted by the side of the water.

A few days ago we went for our weekly visit to our orphans. Teresa and another friend from here went off with the younger kids aged 8 to 12. I called my five oldest, with whom I have been working since April. They are 14 to 16 years old. Our session was about prayer, and how important it is to stay connected with the Source of Love. We talked about a simple method of contemplation, and then I sent them out into the garden to actually do it. Be still. Ask the Holy Spirit to come. Surrender. Look at Jesus.

I sat on the steps of the office and tried to follow the same steps. It was about to start raining, the sky was overcast, it was drizzling. The air was cool, which is very unusual where we live. And all around me was green, green, green. Trees, grass, bushes, plants, hills. And it was all perfectly still.

As I just looked and stilled myself, it seemed almost familiar. I suddenly recognized it. It was my oasis. I was at the heart of God, and I was at peace.

They shall come and sing aloud on the height of Zion, and they shall be radiant over the goodness of the LORD.. their lives shall become like a watered garden, and they shall never languish again. Jeremiah 31: 12

I was Hungry, and You Gave Me Food

2011-08-22T11:16:00.012+08:00

Outside the school

Teresa and I have started working in a poor school in the middle of one of the poorest areas (called barangays) in the city. As we walked through the narrow path to get to the school, through rows of rickety houses, it was like walking in the middle of somebody’s home as half-naked kids ran around and bare-chested men sat around and women cooked, and everyone stared. In some ways it was similar to the slums in India.

We are teaching ten classes every week from Grade 1 to Grade 6. Of course, we are teaching Religion. We were blessed to be invited to teach at the school, because the Principal is a member of the Christian community that we work with. As we talked to him about the school and the children, we found out a little more about the background of the community there.We heard that 81% of the families live below the poverty line, which means that the father usually earns less than 100 pesos ($2.4) a day, with which he has to support his whole family. Most men are labourers or trisikad drivers. They are usually from the provinces, but come to the city to get work.

The saddest thing of all this is that most of the children come from broken families. Yesterday, we were talking about families in school, and we asked them why the family in the picture we had was happy. They said “Because the family is together, because it is not a broken family.” Many fathers have deserted their families and many of them have two or three families. So most children don’t have the security of parents that love each other.

On top of that, many of the kids are malnourished. They are sometimes so hungry that they don’t have the motivation to go to school. The principal said that when they tried getting them to school anyway, it was useless because the hungry kids would just fall asleep in class. They have an on and off feeding programme once a week for the kids, when they have the funds. Right now, they don’t have the funds. The local government body says that they will soon send food, but they are two months into the school year, and there is no food yet.

The idea is to feed the 120 most malnourished children at least once a week, on Fridays. When they have the resources, they give them a kind of rice porridge.

No child deserves to go hungry. These are the little ones, defenceless, unprotected. They have been deprived, physically and emotionally. They need food, they need loving, united families and they need Jesus. We are there to tell them about a God who loves them, and who they can turn to. We are going to pray for their families, for a change in their situation and their hearts. And we are asking you to consider making a sacrifice to provide them with food to survive.

Teresa and Beth in a trisikad

Beautiful little girl

The rice porridge for 120 children costs 1000 pesos a week. Our idea was that they could give them a boiled egg too, but that would cost another 600 pesos.

All it takes is 1600 pesos or $40 or Rs 1674 per week. Ask your family if they can make a sacrifice, give something up, so that you can feed 120 hungry kids just once. If many different people respond, maybe we can keep them going until they get help from the barangay.

Beloved children of God

Yes, I know there are many hungry children in the world, and we can’t feed them all. But we can sure feed some of them! This is your chance to feed Jesus!

Then the king will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.' Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?'And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.'
Matthew 25: 34- 40

I really hope that if you do not respond, it is because you are already giving so much that you have no money to spare.
Email me if you want to help! susannadealmeida (at) gmail (dot) com

Here is an article about the school. (Click to enlarge.)

You Who Abide in the Shadow of the Almighty

2011-08-15T13:21:00.005+08:00

Pic taken AGES ago... when we first arrived in the Philippines

About a month ago, I had one of the scariest experiences of my life. I have never been in close contact with death, never lost anyone close to me, and although I talk about death a lot, I had never really looked at the possibility of death directly. Well, that changed.

The Alvarez family was visiting from Camiguin Island. We resurrected our Intake’s tradition of Dessert Night with yummy mango float dessert and a pineapple pie. I love dessert nights! We had a great time sharing our missionary experiences of the past month. Baby Julian, aged 1 and a half, was wandering all over the house, playing with the door, laughing along whenever we laughed, trying to get a taste of Sammy’s pineapple pie and then spitting it out. Then he headed for the stairs, which he has been fascinated by on previous visits. Before either I would follow him up the stairs, or someone else would keep an eye on him. This time, at first we blocked him off from the stairs with our chairs. But later he managed to get through. No one reacted, so I just assumed he would be okay. Or I thought one of the older kids would go there eventually. But we were all so absorbed in our conversation.

Suddenly we heard a loud thwack, followed by Julian crying, so we all jumped up in shock. I got there first; he was lying face down at the bottom of the stairs, so I picked him up and handed him to his mother. There was silence from everyone. I assumed it was just a knock on the head that kids get all the time, so I wasn’t too worried. But as Stasi held him, suddenly he stopped crying, and his head lolled backward. Stasi caught his head; she had terror in her voice “There’s something wrong! I mean it! There’s something wrong!” She and the kids saw his eyes roll back and close. We all freaked out at her fear and the limpness in his body. We had no idea what to do! I thought his neck was broken. We thought we were seeing him die before our eyes.

We all started yelling and praying “Praise you, Jesus! Help us, Jesus! Please, Jesus!” Some of the kids started singing “In the name of Jesus, we have the victory” Praise Jesus, in about a minute, he came back to consciousness and started crying. We were still really scared. Teresa, Odilio and Stasi went to the house of a neighbour from our Christian community, Tita Bebs, to ask her where the closest hospital was.

I stayed with the kids. The three oldest were in tears. The fourth child, Sammy, 6, was really confused. “Why is everyone crying?” We continued praying together, but as I prayed, they were shaking and crying. They were all old enough to realize that he could die, he could have brain damage. I had to control my fear and tears. Apparently, the previous night, Abram, 9, had dreamed that Julian, wearing the same clothes, fell on to the street outside their house and died. He was afraid he had made it happen with his dream. I held Maddie, 13, close as I prayed, and she leaned on me and sobbed. Then I had Abram on my lap too.

Sammy came to me and said “Isn’t it funny how the little kids don’t cry when someone gets hurt?” “And they have boogers!” Vincent, 3, added. Lol. I was thankful that they were unaffected by the tension in the air.

Meredith, 11, asked if we could read my bible, so I brought it down and started reading Psalm 91. I remembered it was a psalm of protection but I had not remembered the exact words, and how appropriate they would be.

You who live in the shelter of the Most High, who abide in the shadow of the Almighty, will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I
trust... Under his wings, you will find refuge... For he will command his angels
concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you
up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone. Those who love me, I
will deliver; I will protect those who know my name. When they call to me, I
will answer them; I will be with them in trouble. Psalm 91:1, 4, 11-12, 14-15

Then we read the story of Lazarus. I was comforted and struck by how even though Jesus knew what was going to happen, and even allowed it, he still felt the pain of their grief. He was one with us in our weakness. And Mary cried out to him and almost accused him “YOU could have prevented it!” And He told her that he allowed it so that His Father would be glorified. ALL things work for God for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. Still, knowing that God’s will could have been Julian’s death was something hard to face, especially as we saw Stacie’s stark fear.

At that moment, even in the midst of our fear, I felt that Jesus was very close. I felt like He could feel our fear, and that He was holding us, even as I was holding the kids. We truly felt like we were under the shadow of the Most High. I guess that is the paradox of our faith, that God could allow us suffering and then come and bear it with us. And yet, I remember my mother sponging our hot bodies when we had a high fever, and what agony it was, how we cried... and still she did it. I believe that a good God really allows suffering only for some good purpose... and we will know what it is sooner or later.

P.S. Julian is totally fine. By the time they got to Tita Bebs’ house, he seemed fine, so much so that Tita Bebs couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about. “Just three steps?” They took him to a hospital, but he seemed okay, and a month later, he is still doing great, praise God.

How Lovely on the Mountains are the Feet...

2011-08-01T20:53:00.016+08:00

Trekking though the beautiful Filipino hills and valleys

On Monday, I was blessed by the visit of two of my cousins from Pune- Jeremy and Nicholas. They could only spend three days with me, so we wanted to make the most of the short time we had together. What did we do? We took them on a trip to the most beautiful island in the world, and then on a trek through the mountains to bring food and the love of Jesus to a little settlement of poor people living there. We used some of the money donated to us by our benefactors to buy food supplies for the people living there.

What an adventure that was! There were so many challenges! We started off at about noon due to a bunch of unexpected delays. It was hot, and our team included Odilio and Stacie Alvarez’ five youngest children. It was hot, and we were a little impatient because we needed to make sure we got back in time to catch the 3 o clock ferry.

As we started climbing, we realized that the ground was wet from the rain the previous day, and was therefore extremely slippery. Many of us slipped and fell several times. And then we had the little ones with us too. That would have been a good time to have three or four arms... my cousin Nicky carried Vincent on his shoulders, while baby Julian got passed around from one person to the next. Trying to remain upright by ourselves was hard enough; with a baby in your arms, it was a lot harder and a lot scarier. I think the Lord sent a few extra angels to keep those kiddos safe.

As we climbed, Stacie’s flip-flop’s kept breaking. Finally she walked barefoot through the mountains. ‘How beautiful are the feet...’ I thought, as I saw her mud-caked feet.

Stacie's beautiful feet

We finally got there, and met about ten families at their tiny chapel. Odilio shared with them a passage from the Bible, and then I got a chance to share with them how much God loves them, and how He wants them to ask with childlike faith for what they need. They asked us to pray for their needs- for their little community to get accessible roads, for enough food to eat every day, for protection from natural disasters.

The tiny chapel and the mountain people

It’s hard to imagine how hard their daily lives must be- many of their kids can’t go to school, because the way we came was the only way to the village. We're still wondering ‘How do they manage when they have a medical emergency? Can you imagine trekking through those mountains in the night? It was hard enough during the day.’ They are very poor, and usually only eat the food they can grow which is sweet potato and a few other things. They don’t even have rice, which is the only real FOOD to most Filipinos. We saw one little girl with light eyes, almost blue, and Stacie commented on them. That’s when Fr. Joe told us that that was not charming, but tragic- they were that color because she was malnourished.

Light-eyed Filipina baby

In spite of their suffering, they greeted us with such beautiful smiles and generosity. They fed us with the tender coconut meat, and we drank coconut water. That’s all we ate for lunch, along with some berry kind of fruit we found growing on a tree halfway there. And we drank spring water. Yup, back to the basics.

Tender coconut for lunch

We got to hand out small bags of food that we put together- rice, dried fish, sugar, noodles and Milo (a chocolate nutritious drink for the kids). Even little 3 year old Vincent decided to give away the candy that his parents were carrying for him. Missionary kids really get the best Christian education ever.

Sammy giving away food and smiles

We just had a short visit with them. We trekked back, and by the time we reached the jeep, i was exhausted and ready to drop. We rushed back to the house, grabbed our bags and Fr. Joe dropped us to the ferry. We got there in the nick of time. As we ran on to the boat, the ferry workers looked at our mud splashed, sweaty, tired bodies and asked “What happened?”

Missions happened.

Filipino kiddos, an American baby and Indian missionary keep a divine appointment

Seeking Joy

2011-07-15T20:32:00.003+08:00

Beautiful Mantigue Island

I say to the Lord: “You are my God. My happiness lies in you alone.” Psalm 16:2

A month ago we were on Camiguin Island to visit the Alvarezes and do a retreat with their youth group. We had decided that on Monday we were going to go off on our own to the beach. We’ve been busy, we never seemed to have any time for ourselves, so we were going to make sure that we got this time. Also, “We’re in the Philippines, for goodness sake! Why have we been to the beach only ONCE in the past four months?” Many times during the past week we thought longingly of that island. In the middle of the tiredness and busy-ness of the retreat, we would look at each other and say “I can’t WAIT for Monday.” I visualized a quiet beach, swimming in the water, praying, sleeping.

Finally Monday came and we set off. We went to Mantigue Island, and as we reached we looked at the beautiful island. The sea was a beautiful clear bright blue, the view was spectacular—it was exactly what we imagined. Except that I felt a sense of disappointment. I thought I would feel happier than this. Teresa came to me a few minutes later and said exactly the same thing. “Why doesn’t this beautiful place satisfy me? Why don’t I feel happier? Why am I not reacting the way I thought I would be?”

But Fulton Sheen in his book ‘You’ talks about this. He says ‘The fact is: you want to be perfectly happy, but you are not. Your life has been a series of disappointments, shocks and disillusionments. How have you reacted to your disappointments? Either you became cynical or you became religious. If you became cynical, you blamed things rather than yourself... You made happiness extrinsic to yourself. No wonder you are never happy. You are chasing mirages until death overtakes you.’

For example, I on the island could have said “If only there were no insects, and the sun was not so hot, I would be happy. If only my family were here, I would be happy. If only I had a hammock and a shady tree, I would be happy. If only I had a tall, cold lemonade, I would be happy. If only I had an attentive and attractive husband, I would be happy.”

‘You ask yourself: “What do I desire above all things?” You want perfect life, perfect truth and perfect love. Nothing short of the Infinite satisfies you... With your feet on earth, you dream of heaven; creature of time, you despise it; flower of a day, you seek to eternalize yourself. Why do you want Life, Truth, Love, unless you were made for them? How could you enjoy the fractions unless there were a whole?

(...) You begin to see that friendship, the joys of marriage, the thrill of possession, the sunset and the evening star, masterpieces of art and music, (...) the industries and comforts of life, are all gifts of God. He dropped them on the roadway of life, to remind you that if these are so beautiful, then what must be Beauty!

(...) Disappointments are merely markers on the road of life, saying “Perfect happiness is not here.'

Our disappointment was quickly succeeded by that reminder—our happiness lies in him alone. We know this, but we keep forgetting. That day I spent time in prayer and reading ‘Story of a Soul’, and left after a few hours knowing that I didn’t have to squeeze happiness out of that moment. True joy will come whether I am on a beautiful quiet island, or in the hot sweaty noisy city... as long as I am one with my Jesus, allowing Him to love me, to fulfil me. That’s the secret of the saints, the secret of heaven.

Perfect happiness is not in the material world. It is in Him.

Easy Ways to be a Missionary

2011-07-07T12:34:00.002+08:00

Two of our missionaries in Mexico with Hugo, who sits outside the Cathedral

Teresa and I are at a stage in our missionary year where we are between things. We still have a few ministries going on, but they are not very time-consuming, and as we wait for a couple of other ministries to come through, we find ourselves with quite a bit of free time and the question ‘Are we doing what we came to do?’

Through prayer and allowing the Lord to break down some barriers in my heart, I realized that He was calling us to do something very simple, but very important—feed the poor.

I know that at the beginning I was expecting a radical change in my heart at once, but that didn’t happen. I had the same reaction to the poor that I had at home- a mixture of resentment, guilt and inadequacy. There were too many, they were too ‘in your face’, I knew that some of the street kids smoked and sniffed glue, and had somewhere to go, but preferred the streets. I knew that some may be frauds. I knew that giving them a few coins was not a solution.

But I knew that those were just excuses, and none of them were good reasons to do NOTHING. They were still brothers and sisters, and they still deserved love and a full stomach. So after seeking the Lord, I felt that we needed to do ‘small things with great love.’

Like Mother Teresa said, ‘If you can't feed a hundred people, then feed just one.’

So once a week we have started what we call our ‘street ministry’. One of us cooks lunch, for ourselves and a few more people. We pack the food into bags, and take to the streets. We pray for the Lord to lead us to the right people.

“Maayong hapon! (Good afternoon)” we smile as we greet one little old lady.

“Unsa imo pangalan? (What is your name?)”

“Gigutom naka? (Are you hungry?)”

“Mag-ampo? (Prayer?)” (Yeah, we don’t know how to say that in a full sentence)

We give them the food, say a prayer with them, try to talk a little if they know English, and then leave.

That’s it. So simple, so little, but a start.

And our little forays lead to other conversations and prayers. As we prayed with one of the little old ladies, a passing Protestant pastor stopped, joined our prayer and then had a little chat with us. He asked us if we worshipped idols. :-)

Another lady came up to Teresa as she was talking to a beggar outside the Cathedral, and shared her problems with her. Teresa prayed with her. A few days later we met the same lady and she told us that she was much better, the prayers worked, and she told all her friends about the missionary she met. She was so grateful to Teresa for telling her that ‘God misses her’.

So guess what... YOU can be a missionary! All you need is love and the Holy Spirit.

Good News!

2011-07-07T12:17:00.003+08:00

Finished the book in one day!

Do you have any questions about Catholic teaching? Chances are, if you do, it has something to do with sex. There is no way to be Catholic in today’s world, and NOT realize that there is a wide gap between the secular perspective of sex and marriage and the Church’s. So how did you react? If you’re Catholic, you either

Accepted everything the Church said just because the Church said so, and that’s good enough for you (ha ha, no I don’t know anyone like that either)
Figured that that you would have to decide for yourself on each issue and that the Catholic Church has no real authority and definitely no good reasons to base its teachings on
Ignored the issues that didn’t affect you personally, and followed the teachings that were not too hard
Got mad at the Church for being a backward woman-hating sex-hating institution stuck in medieval times, harming millions of ignorant Catholics ... and left the Church (physically or mentally)
Were very confused by the contradictory messages (in every TV show and movie you’ve watched) and decided to look up the whys and wherefores

I was a 5. I was once told by a relative when I was about 15, “You know that you don’t HAVE to believe everything your parents believe, right?”

Yes, I did know. My parents’ lives and beliefs gave me enough desire to want to understand this Catholic faith. But for years, I have been asking my questions and finding my answers through books, blogs, websites, articles, discussion forums and the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

Asking questions is a very good thing... if you’re willing to look for the answers.
So if you are one of those people who are asking questions and are looking for answers, here’s the good news: Christopher West, an American author and speaker, wrote a book called Good News about Sex & Marriage: Answers to Your Honest Questions about Catholic Teaching.

Good stuff! It’s in a question-answer format, with all the typical questions that we have either had ourselves or heard others ask. It’s based on John Paul II’s Theology of the Body. What’s cool about it is that gives you the big picture, and at the same time the heart of it all (pun unintended)—love. And what love is really about.

You will find all the typical questions that people have in their minds like...

What could possibly be wrong with two people of the same sex loving each other? If love is of God, then it can’t be wrong.

What in God’s name could possibly be wrong with contraception? Why shouldn’t two consenting adults who love each other be able to have sex?

Why doesn’t the Church just get with the times and admit that some marriages just don’t work out?

I find it quite ironic that old celibate men seek to dictate sexual morality to others. What do they know about sex?

...and many more.

What can I say? If you’re married, planning to be married, Catholic or just interested in understanding why Catholics do what they do, AND if you are willing to read with an open unprejudiced mind... read the book.

Disclaimer: The book is quite explicit, so you’ll have to judge whether your kids/teenagers are ready to read it yet.

Having Nothing, Possessing Everything

2011-06-16T11:00:00.003+08:00

Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Phil 4:6-7

We are treated as poor, yet making everyone rich, as having nothing, and yet possessing everything. 2 Corinthians 6:10

"A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to leave alone." Thoreau

When we got to the Philippines, we were amazed at how cheap everything was. When I went to the States, the prices intimidated me and it took me a while before I was comfortable buying anything. But here prices seemed a lot lower than even India. I made a mental list of all the things I wanted to buy here. We felt like millionaires... that is, until we had to start paying rent and our visa fees. Suddenly it seemed like we were regularly going over our budget, and had no money for ANYTHING that wasn’t absolutely essential.

So we counted purified water as essential, but dish cloths and hand towels as dispensable. Large mirror? Eh, we had street windows. Teaspoons? Tablespoons work almost as well. Flour is expensive? We turned Filipino and ate rice with almost every meal. Almost everything in our apartment was donated by generous members of the community who took us under their wing.

Slowly I began to realize that all the things that I so desperately 'needed' I didn’t really need at all. As Thomas Dubay said in ‘Happy are You Poor’, why do we think that we have to wear a new set of clothes every day? When I read the examples of the saints, I realize how I am just at the beginning of this road, very far from where so many of them reached. And I do realize that our simplicity is still a long way from the simplicity and poverty that most people in the world have to live with. But I am happy that I am on the road. The road to simplicity, to gospel poverty.

It’s something we have to keep reminding ourselves of, asking ourselves ‘Do I really need that?’ I have to choose to stop looking longingly at pretty clothes and cute shoes. If I have less to give because I’m spending too much of my money on inessentials, that is indeed something to be concerned about.

But the best thing about this new life is that it’s not about what I don’t have, but what I do. Like St. Paul says, ‘having nothing, and yet possessing everything’. Because our hands are open, not holding tight to anything, the Lord is able to bless is with far more than we can ask or imagine. We are slowly being released from the slavery to our wants, to our hungers. We are free to love, free to give because we try to hold on to nothing. We are able to receive so much grace! Our relationship with Him is growing deeper and richer. The things that block Him are slowly fading away, and it's so much easier to see and hear Him.

And He always gives us what we need, and sometimes even things we don't. Everything He gives us is far more precious than if we had tried to get it ourselves. It’s like O. Henry’s ‘The Gift of the Magi’. We love Him, so we give Him everything. He loves us, so He gives us everything. And the gifts are that much more valuable.

A couple of weeks ago, Teresa and I were bemoaning our lack of a blender. “Oh, how we would love a blender!”

“Let’s just tell the Lord.”

“Lord, we would LOVE a blender. But we know we don’t NEED it, and so we can’t justify buying one. So if You would like to give us one, we would be SO grateful! We know You CAN! So please, Lord, if it is Your will, send us a blender!”

A few days ago we were on Camiguin Island and we were telling the Alvarez family, our fellow FMC missionaries. They looked at us and then said “We have a blender that we don’t use...”

Praise God! He gave us a blender! Mexican beans and banana smoothies, here we come!

And then I had been hoping and praying for a guitar (as you would have seen in my last post). I didn’t receive any responses, and so was feeling a little despondent. “Well, Lord, I surrender it to you,” I said as I walked to our free wi-fi coffee shop for my weekly date with my family two days ago. And there at the top of my inbox, was a mail from a lovely member of my community back home who said that she and a co-worker would be donating the money for the guitar.

Desert Day on Mantigue Island

He keeps doing it for us, giving us little surprises, unexpected joys- the beautiful smile of a little kid watching us pass on the street, people giving us snacks for our Desert Day when we had nothing to eat, a beautiful breathtaking little island to have our Desert Day on... we are well provided for! I am blessed beyond measure! I have nothing, but possess everything!

A Musical Appeal

2011-06-04T19:26:00.004+08:00

Dear blog readers- family, friends, acquaintances and strangers,

So as the title suggests, this blog post is an appeal. One thing missionaries learn is to be willing to humble themselves and ASK. SO here goes... I believe God is calling me to learn a very useful missionary skill- playing the guitar. I have often hoped to pick up this skill, especially when I worked as a teacher at Gyanankur school in a village in India. Music is a huge blessing, and accompanied song always blesses prayer meetings, bible studies, praise and worship sessions, sessions with kids... basically any missionary activity.

As I continue my work as a missionary here in the Philippines, I have realized that now is the perfect opportunity to learn- I have met many potential guitar teachers (including a local youth missionary whom I could help support be paying her to give me guitar classes). And if I put it into my schedule, I will also have the time to practice and learn.

I especially feel convicted about this recently because Teresa and I are most likely going to be working at a school in a very underprivileged part of the city from July, teaching catechism. I KNOW that using music would make it SO much easier to love and communicate with those kids, also because their English may not be very good.

I do not have the funds to buy a guitar- our budget is pretty tight with the cost of our rent and the visa fees, and all our ministry expenses. So I thought I would send out a special appeal. If you, or someone you know feels called to make a donation to contribute to the cost of a guitar, it would be a huge blessing to me and my mission. The cost is not very high- it would cost about 4000 pesos, or $92 or Rs 4165. It's not much, but it is beyond my means.

Pray about it, and pray for me!

Love and prayers,
Susanna

Praise the Lord!
Praise God in his sanctuary;
praise him in his mighty firmament!
Praise him for his mighty deeds;
praise him according to his surpassing greatness!

Praise him with trumpet sound;
praise him with lute and harp!
Praise him with tambourine and dance;
praise him with strings and pipe!
Praise him with clanging cymbals;
praise him with loud clashing cymbals!
Let everything that breathes praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord!

CYA Mindanao Conference

2011-06-01T20:52:00.007+08:00

We spent five days in Valencia, a city five hours away from here. It was the annual CYA conference with delegates from all over Mindanao. It was such a joy to me to be with so many people who love the Lord so much and are living lives of love and service. These guys are already missionaries, even if they’re not foreign missionaries. The times of praise and worship blessed me too; it was like tasting heaven again, regaining the eternal perspective, giving my heart to Jesus again, remembering His joy, and the total gift of self He was gently asking of me.

Mass with Bishop Pacana

Mountain-top praise at 6 am

Teresa and I were given the opportunity to help with one of the talks. The topic was boy-girl relationships. In CYA, the young people are encouraged to set aside exclusive relationships until they are ready for marriage, and that is something we taught our youth back home too. The point is really to put God at the centre of all their relationships, and live pure, healthy and loving relationships with all the ‘brothers’ and the ‘sisters’ as they call each other. To some people, that seems like a hard decision to make, but as we observed these young people, we could see that there was really something beautiful about their relationships. The brothers were encouraged to serve the sisters, the sisters to allow them to serve, there was much banter and closeness, but never anything that isolated a couple. They had the freedom to really love each other; there was no flirting or attention-seeking behavior; the sisters were free to focus on each other, and not only on the guys. The brothers were quick to serve even the quietest sisters, and everyone received love, attention and encouragement. It seemed like heaven on earth!

Brothers lined up to gently help sisters down a slope

So during our talk, we encouraged those to whom this was a new way of life. We got a chance to share our own experiences. During the open forum one of the most active single women who serves in the community asked a really hard question. She said, “What about people like me who are nearing 40? We’ve been waiting, and one by one all the guys were taken... How should I respond to my colleagues and the world that looks down on me?”

The international speakers!

I said “I think that that is every girl’s fear. What if I’m left alone and single for the rest of my life? I think the problem is that we think marriage is the source of our happiness. We need to know that a husband no matter how awesome, is never going to be the source of our joy. We need to know that we are fulfilled and made happy only in Christ. I’m going to quote from Boy Meets Girl. ‘What about MY love story? When does MY love story begin? You need to know this: If you have met Jesus Christ, your love story has begun!’” The girls were wowed. The truth always sets us free!

I also got the chance to talk and share with many of the youth one on one, hear their stories, and tell them how God had worked in my life. I was blessed to know that three of the girls whom I prayed with for answers to serious dilemmas in their lives at the beginning of the camp, told me on the last day that the Lord had spoken to them and they had received the direction they needed. Praise God!

Gazing on God's beautiful creations while talking about His love and mercy

CYA Household and Bible Study

2011-06-01T20:46:00.005+08:00

CYA Sisters' Summer Household

We are working with a campus ministry called Christ’s Youth in Action (CYA), an outreach of the Sword of the Spirit community here. We were blessed by the enthusiasm and commitment of these young college-age youth. Their motto is ‘Kay Kristo, Buong Buhay, Habambuhay’ or ‘For Christ, our whole lives, for the rest of our lives’ and their mission is to evangelize college students and raise leaders. Every summer they have a ‘summer household’ where a group of girls live together for about a month, praying together, doing chores as teams, listening to talks and being formed as Christian women.

One of their leaders texted us the day after we got back from the young adults camp. “Our household starts tomorrow. Can we have it at your house?” It was short notice, but we were thrilled. Our apartment is too big for the two of us, but all along we had a feeling that the Lord wanted to use it for ministry, and not just for us. We kept praying that the Lord would show us how He wanted to use it. The girls told us that they had been searching for a place for weeks, and even though they couldn’t find one, they were so sure that God would provide, that they stuck to their planned starting date even though they didn’t have a place. And He did!

So we had three weeks of a very full house. There were many challenges including a room that felt like a boiler room (it was the hottest part of summer, and with twelve girls sharing a badly ventilated room, the temperature went up), sleeping on the floor because I didn’t have place to curl up on the mattresses (I’m amazed at how those girls managed to sleep in one position all night- a special talent) and a friendly mouse that hung out with me one night. But the blessings far outweighed the challenges. I now have ten new sisters! The girls set such an example for us in their home-making skills, their love for one another, their patience, their hard work and their love for the Lord. At the same time we were able to bless them by our conversations- they had so many questions. They asked questions about our faith, about practically living it out, about experiencing the Lord in a deeper way. They listened eagerly to our witness.

One night we were led by the Spirit to have a special ministry time with them- through bible verses, testimonies and videos, we looked at the things that were blocking us from growing in our relationship with the Lord, and took a new look at the life and joy He was offering us through His Holy Spirit. We prayed over each other, and God really showed up! Many of the girls had a deep experience of God’s love and healing, and some of us had visions and shared prophetic words. It was pretty awesome!

College Bible Study

We ran a girls’ summer bible study on a college campus here with the CYA over two weeks. We called it ‘Meet Jesus in the Bible’ and it was a way of introducing girls to experience and hear from God through His Word. We used some of the well-known passages like the Emmaus walk, Mary and Martha, the rich young man, the healing of the paralytic, Jesus calming the sea and a few others to give the girls a glimpse of who Jesus really is and how He wanted to relate to them. We also taught them the traditional method of bible study called Lectio Divina- lectio, meditatio, oratio and contemplatio. We had time to share, and of course time to eat! I think it was a good experience for both them and us. How I love God’s Word!

Hey Yo Everybody, What’s Up and What’s Down?

2011-06-01T20:02:00.004+08:00

I’m so sorry, dear people, that I’ve slacked off from keeping my blog updated. The past month has been very full, with one thing after the other. Part of the reason is that the summer holidays are in May, and so all the youth activities are planned for May. So here are some of the things we’ve been up to, and some of the ways the Lord’s been using us.

Kairos Camp

We accompanied the high schoolers of the Sword of the Spirit community to their camp called Kairos at the end of April. We also took with us the two oldest daughters of another FMC missionary family here in the Philippines. It was their first time to be away from their family, and their first camp. At the camp I was given the chance to give one of the sessions to some of the new youth, talking about making a choice for God. I love teaching!

Some happy YA-ers. can you spot the 25 year old? ;-)

One of the biggest blessings of the camp was the last night when we had a time of praise and worship, and we prayed over some of the participants. We could really see the Holy Spirit working as some of the youth shared their struggles with us, and the Lord reached them. I was super-blessed to hear from and pray with a 15 year old guy who had a deep experience of God’s love and forgiveness. He told Teresa and me that we were the first ones to whom he had ever spoken about God! What a privilege! He was so excited about his experience, he was almost shaking. On the way home in the bus, as I was reading my bible, two kids noticed and told me that they had almost never read the bible before, but they wanted to start too. Wow! How the Lord uses simple things like choosing to read my bible in the bus.

Hearts, voice and hands lifted to God

I was also SO blessed to meet my cousin Ruth from India and another of youth members, Naomi, at the camp. They are spent a month in the Philippines with the Sword of the Spirit community there, and part of their activities included attending this camp. I hadn’t seen anyone from home for almost a year, so hugging my cousin was like taking a big refreshing gulp of Sprite before continuing to climb the mountain. I think everybody who was around were wondering who the crazy Indian girls were when I saw them arrive and jumped on them.

Three happy Indian girls

More Bits and Pieces

2011-05-08T15:42:00.008+08:00

So I know I haven't posted in a while, but there's been plenty going on. However I haven't really tried to put together a blog post about all the awesome things yet, because I just finished working on a newsletter and an article for FMC's newsletter.

Still, I'm sure you'd love to hear something about my fascinating life here in missions...

So...

Good news: Teresa and I have been blessed to have about ten beautiful, faith filled girls living in our home for their three-week 'summer household'. We get to pray together with them, join with their beautiful voices in singing songs of praise, learn how to be better housekeepers and cooks and spend hours talking and talking!

Late night talking sessions

Bad news: We also have in residence more than one sweet little... MOUSE! I've lived with cockroaches, lizards, ants... but MICE?

Good news: According to Cha, one of our new sisters, mice are no big deal. She says we're lucky we aren't living with.... KITTEN-SIZED RATS! Yes, because her family does.

Bad news: Apparently you just have to live with whichever rodents decide to move in, because if you antagonize them.. they'll CHEW ON YOUR CLOTHES!

Good news: Suffering is the currency of the Kingdom. Maybe I'll eventually stop jumping on a chair and screeching when I see them. Maybe even name them, as my mother suggested.

What else?
Interesting sights...

Live fish for sale on the street-

Do you need someone to take an authoritative stand on coconuts? Visit the Philippine Coconut Authority.

Interesting authentic Filipino experience-
Guess what? Durian isn't as bad as everyone said it would be... I can even imagine one day liking it. ;-)
That's all for today, folks!

Alive Again!

2011-04-23T17:45:00.008+08:00

In spite of everything the Lord has said and promised, every now and again I still have feelings of self-doubt and questions about whether the Lord would really use us to bless people spiritually. Well, last Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday Teresa and I conducted a retreat called ‘Alive Again’ for a bunch of high-schoolers and college students.

Who Killed Pedro Santos?

The first day’s talk was called ‘Who Killed Pedro Santos?’ and we talked about spiritual suicide, and how we cut ourselves off from God when we replace Him with things that will not satisfy us. On the second day, we went into ‘Family History’- how sin entered the world, how our human nature was twisted with the Fall, and how Jesus’ death and resurrection set us free from the power of sin and opened the way for a new life. The third day was about ‘Life after Death’- how to live the new life Christ is offering to us.

What a blessing it was to do the two things I love doing most (apart from sleeping)- teaching and talking about the Lord. The funny thing is that the Lord reminded us that it was Him, not us who was working in people’s hearts. The first day, the talk was great. We were happy with the response. The second day... I don’t know. I just didn’t have the energy I had the first day, the talk was too long, there was too much information, the kids were getting distracted and fidgety. I guess I had forgotten that the attention span of teenagers is not as long as mine is. We came back that day feeling a little depressed. ‘Thank you, Lord, for teaching me a little humility. Now I know that it isn’t my awesome teaching skill that is achieving anything.’ Also, we started the first day with 50 kids, the second day with 40 and the third day with about 35.

Small group sharing

I woke up on the third day with a sense of hope and peace. “What was I worried about? The Lord is awesome, and He’s going to do something for these kids!” That day was awesome. We tried to keep it lighter, with more games and interactive stuff and attention shifts. As I shared about the awesome personal tender love of God, tears came to my eyes. The Holy Spirit gave me zeal and joy as I spoke His word. We ended the retreat singing ‘He has turned my mourning into dancing’. When we were asked how the retreat went, we said we thought it was good.

Lean on me...

And then we read the evaluation sheets. The Lord gave us a little glimpse of how He had used us, and what He was doing. It was like opening a Christmas present. Here are some of the answers that we got. How good God is!

What did you like about the Alive Again retreat?

First thing I like about the retreat are the amazing sharing, inspiring talks. I don’t like it but love it. Those are the best part about the retreat.
I like the community and the environment. It gave me a glimpse on what kind of life I will be living if I am close to God. I liked everything about it. I was absolutely renewed through the talks and activities.
I like the Alive Again retreat not only because of its content but also the speakers... The way Susanna shared and delivered the talk was interesting. I can feel the emotions as she shared and I like it. The message was also clear & the speaker spoke just what I wanted to hear. They answered some of my prayers to God. It helped a lot.

Did you experience God through any of the talks, prayers, activities? In what way?

I got to experience God through the talks, prayers and activities. In a way God and I were creating a bond that was never created (before).
Yes, I did. Through the missionaries, I have learned and knew how great is God’s love for me.
I did experience God but it was somewhat a tap in the heart that break my barrier to Him.
Yes, it seems that He, God, was the One talking in front through the speakers.
YES. A very BIG YES! I felt Him through the speakers. He is like using them as an instrument to talk to us/me. Maybe I was too deaf to hear Him that’s why I’m here. I also felt Him like He is just sitting next to me and smiling as I listen to His words.
Absolutely. I can totally relate to the talks and the testimonies. And I can sense conviction in my heart. I’m encouraged to really seek God more. And I believe the Holy Spirit made me thought of that. Indeed, God wants me to draw closer to Him every time.
Yes, especially during the prayer before closing the activity. I had a deep contemplation of the passion of Christ.
Yes obviously for a fact that God used both of you (Teresa and Susanna) as his instruments to make us closer to him and know him more.
Yes! I experienced GOD. I experienced GOD through the people itself talking and sharing about the talks, prayers and activities. God’s grace to let me join here is a living proof that I’ve experienced GOD.
Yes, by reflecting the talks of the speakers in front said. In that way, I realized that God is always in my life and is just trying to get me away from all the things in the world and be just the two of us talking. Heart to heart.
Yes! I actually felt his strong presence when we had the first talk/ 1st day. It feels like God is really talking to me that He is the only one can satisfy our desires.

We're all alive again!

P.S. One of the awesome things about the retreat for me was that for the first time in my life I got up in front of a bunch of people and told a joke... and got a laugh. :-D Apparently, it is customary here to start your talk with a joke, so I practised beforehand, and it was awesome! :-D

Need a comedian? Call me! ;-)

Bits and Pieces of Our Life

2011-04-15T21:17:00.006+08:00

This was a yummy meal prepared by our sister Beth, one of the members of the single women's group we attend- we eat, we pray, we share. We really enjoyed the vegetables! Because most Filipinos never eat vegetables! If you're vegetarian, think twice about visiting the Philippines. if you love your meat, come on over!

This is our new apartment... it's a row house. It has it's pros and cons. It's VERY spacious (coming to visit anyone?), it's close to everything (including a new air-conditioned mall where we entertain our guests :-)) and it's comfortable. BUT we share the space with giant flying cockroaches, lizards and ants. We also have very thin walls. That means we get to be a part of our neighbour's lives ALL the time. That includes hearing lights switched on, people belching, a girls softly humming to herself, radios and TVS blaring. The pro of all that is that I didn't want to live in a bubble cut off from the real world. Here I definitely am not. And Filipinos don't seem to fight, so that is definitely a blessing!

This is the long, hot, but very beautiful road we get to walk up and down every time we visit a home for the mentally sick. With us is a Filipino guy who we met on the long walk, and whose family invited us to visit them. He is now teaching us Visayan. How much excitement we create when we say 'Salamat' (thank you) to people. Teresa got a loud round of applause and cheers when she said 'Mayong gabii' (Good evening) to our community here. Heh... I can't complain I don't have motivation to learn!

Any teachers recognize my hand gesture? yup, it means 'mouth closed and ears open'. :-) These are the kids from the orphanage we visit every week. Notice how they pay no attention to me! No, no, it's not that bad... I retain my special teaching gift, and we had an awesome bible story session with songs and prayer and pictures to colour. They are so open and receptive.

Filipinos love taking pictures. And this is a preferred pose called 'waki waki'.. according to Teresa, they're saying 'whacky', but anyone the point is to do funny poses for the pictures. How beautiful God's children are, no?

Things I Didn't Expect

2011-04-04T11:35:00.004+08:00

As I look back at my first month of missions, I realize that there were many things that I hadn't realized would be a part of a missionary's life... Are you ready?

Singing Justin Bieber's 'Baby, baby, baby oh!' for the first and hopefully the last time: As Teresa and I visited the House of Hope, we visited with a beautiful 17 year old girl who has gone through some horrible stuff in the past. We could see the pain and the innocence in her eyes. We talked to her, asked her questions, and then asked if she would like us to sing a hymn. She told us that she loved singing and broke into song - 'Baby, baby, baby oh!' We were so thrilled to hear her beautiful voice, and that she still had enough interest in life to sing, that both Teresa and I joined her. Btw, that song seems to be the most popular song in the Philippines.

Dancing in a synchronized dance: Yes, I know you want recorded proof of this. But part of hanging with our new Filipino friends and their community outreach was a fellowship night where each group had to present a dance. Teresa and I summoned up our courage, and we actually did it with the other girls to a Tagalog song. How come we didn't have some kind of training for this during Intake?

Being laughed at by fellow jeepney travellers, passersby on the road, complete strangers... in short, everyone: As Teresa and I try to learn how to get around by ourselves, we often say or do the wrong thing. We tried to get off from our jeepney three times at the wrong place, and everybody thought the two foreigners were hilarious. Still, we've learned to laugh with them.

Teresa in a jeepney

Being hungry all the time: Is there something about Filipino food that causes you to feel hungry just an hour after after eating a huge meal? Maybe giving up snacks for Lent wasn't the best idea. Then again, maybe if it doesn't hurt, it doesn't count.

The Tap: We love this! Guys and girls greet each other by a little double tap on their shoulders- It is friendly without being over-intimate. We are just beginning to get comfortable doing it.

Literally rubbing shoulders with everyone we're travelling with: Jeepney drivers refuse to leave until there are so many passengers that we are all squeezed in together. I'm constantly amazed at how many people can fit into tiny spaces, especially in the back of the tiny motorellas. But this is Asia. And yes, India isn't so different.

The Talent: Everybody is super-talented here! Guys who look like just average guy next door types pick up a mic and start singing, and Teresa and I are dumbstruck. They play, they sing, they dance, they paint. They asked us what we did, and we shamefacedly admitted that we didn't sing, play an instrument or do anything except make funny (to us) comments about life.

Anyway, that's all for today... Things have been hard in some ways, but the Lord has shown us His presence, and answered our prayers, so we are encouraged and hopeful about the future and how God is going to use us, and is using us. Keep praying for this little missionary team.

Bring the Poor to Us

2011-03-28T21:52:00.000+08:00

Teresa and I have been struggling with our reaction to the poor around us. On one hand, we believe that the Lord sent us here to serve the poor, to love them, to share what we have with them and to show them the loving face of Jesus. On the other hand, we know that many of those who beg do so as a business because we look like gullible foreigners. We’ve been told that the church has tried to help many, and get them work, but many prefer to beg. We know that there are many who are genuinely struggling, and most of those are probably not even on the streets. Anyway so we are praying that the Lord will put us in contact with some poor families that we can visit, and help with our limited financial means.

But it’s still hard to eat good meals when we can see so many on the streets. A few days ago, Teresa and I were eating at a nice-ish restaurant. Sometimes we eat at the simpler places and pay maybe 60 pesos for a meal. Here we paid about 100 pesos. Teresa blessed the food and prayed “Lord, bring the poor to us.” An interesting way of putting it, I thought.

We ate our meal, and found that we had a lot left over. We were sitting at a table near the door of the restaurant. Suddenly the door swung open and a young boy approached us. I was really surprised that he had the courage to come right in, evading the gaze of the proprietors. Teresa immediately responded with her big missionary heart, and kindly invited him to join us at the table. We could feel the eyes of everyone in the restaurant on us, probably wondering who the crazy foreigners were. Our little friend, Marlo wolfed down the food and the soda Teresa bought him.

It was the perfect answer for that evening! We didn’t know if he had a family and home where he had enough to eat, but we believe the Lord sent him to us, and that He knew that he needed that meal.

As we left the restaurant, three of Marlo’s friends made a beeline for us. We gave them some snacks (that we usually try to carry around with us) and asked them their names. These three rascals with mischievous grins tell us “We have no mother, no father... We want you to adopt us! Adopt me! Please! Take me home! You are my mother! Take me home!” It was both hilarious and disturbing... they were obviously having the time of their lives, but where did they learn to say stuff like that? Anyway that was just one of the many funny but awesome things that have been happening to us here in the Philippines.

I have so many stories to tell, and so little time to write about them. I promise I’ll try though. I will be working on a newsletter soon... let me know if you’d like to receive a copy.

Open Wide Your Mouth

2011-03-19T13:12:00.004+08:00

So I think if I had to pick a verse to represent the past two weeks, I would pick: Open wide your mouth, and I will fill it, says the Lord. From the time we were picked up in Manila, to our time in Cagayan, then Camiguin, and then Malaybalay, we have been fed constantly with delicious food. It’s no surprise that that first Visaya phrase we learned was ‘Lami ka’ayo’, meaning ‘Very delicious!’ We had to say it all the time.

We woke up early and had a huge breakfast, then a mid-morning merienda, then a big lunch, then an afternoon merienda, then a big dinner, and then sometimes a late night snack. Oh my gosh! I’ve put on so much weight! And the food was so good, especially the fresh fruit- mangoes, pineapple, starfruit, papaya, watermelon, bananas. I have never eaten so well in my life!

And it wasn’t just the food. We were looked after so well everywhere we went. People we had never met in our lives, picked us up, drove us everywhere, invited us into their homes, fed us, gave us beds, bought us gifts, treated us like honoured guests. And why? Just because they loved the Lord, and we had been sent by the Lord. As we received the star treatment, I began to feel uncomfortable and guilty. Why were we being treated like celebrities? We had done absolutely nothing to deserve it.

I struggled with my feelings for a while, but tried to graciously accept the hospitality and generosity. And as I prayed about it, and talked to Teresa about it, I realized that there is nothing in my life that I deserve. I haven’t earned a loving family, food, clothes, a home. I haven’t earned salvation or the love of God. It was all freely given to me.

And it’s pretty clear how Jesus wants me to respond to that. “Freely you have received, freely give.” I guess he poured the blessings in the first two weeks to remind us that He is a generous God and we can’t limit his goodness and provision. And in the same way that the priests and community members freely gave, we need to freely and willingly pour out our lives every day here. We can’t grudge any effort we have to make, any discomfort we face, any money we spend on others. He’s been providing for us at each step of the journey, and He wants to use us to provide for His people in this city.

Here’s a little story of how he provided for me a couple of days ago.

*Mayette and I were shopping in a new supermarket close to our new home, and the place was packed. We waited in line on the household level of the store for 20 minutes. Then we realized we needed sugar from another level. I went in, while Mayette waited outside with the stuff we had bought. I thought it would be a quick in and out because all I needed was one item. But this level was crowded as well. I found my sugar, and joined a line. None of the lines seemed to be moving faster than a snail’s pace. My legs hurt, I was tired, and I was feeling bad for Mayette waiting out there for me. I said “Lord! Please get me out of here! Poor Mayette!”

In a few minutes I saw a security guard moving through the crowds. He seemed to be looking for someone. He came up directly to me, and said “You only have one item?”

“Yes.”

He indicated that I should follow him. What was going on? Had my crazy mission partner sent him to find me? I could visualize it: “There’s an Indian girl in there holding one packet of sugar... it really shouldn’t be taking her this long to get out.”

I followed the guard through bypassing all the lines and the cashiers, till we reached the front of the store. There was a lonely little register with one cashier. I paid for my sugar, and received my receipt, baffled.

I got to Mayette and demanded an explanation. No, she had not sent a security guard to find me.
The Lord had.

“The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them.” Psalm 34: 7

*Our new names are Mayette and Susi
(On second thought, a week after writing this post, we've decided this whole nickname things is getting too confusing. So we're sticking with our own.. for now.)

Why Am I in the Philippines?

2011-03-19T12:25:00.007+08:00

The most beautifully designed church I've seen

Guess what? The Philippines is the most Catholic country in the world! So why would a couple of Catholic lay missionaries go to the Philippines of all places? Several people have asked me this question already, and I didn’t have an answer ready. I just knew that as we were seeking God on where He wanted us to be, I heard ‘Philippines’, and then that’s where the directors in FMC felt called to place Teresa and me. For our first year, we allow ourselves to be guided on the choice of our mission post.

So here we are in a super-Catholic country, with so many people flocking to daily Mass, so many Catholic groups and organizations- Sword of the Spirit, Couples for Christ, the Charismatic Renewal, heaps of religious orders, and signs of an awareness of God’s presence everywhere. Churches, chapels, masses throughout the day, religious banners, motorelas with ‘Jesus is Lord’ painted on the front, or ‘Holy Infant taxi; Please do not spit’, etc. The daily masses have so many people attending. On Camiguin island, people woke up at 4.30 am to attend a daybreak Way of the Cross.

Going for a 4.30 am Way of the Cross on Camiguin island

But over the past two weeks that we have been here, the Lord has been showing me that He did have a reason for us to be here.

We are here to call Filipinos to be missionaries. We believe that the Lord is calling many Asian Christians to rise up, to share the good news that we have been given with our non-Christian brothers and sisters, to share the Love we have been freely given, to invite all people to share in the freedom and joy of knowing Christ. We who are privileged are called to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and share Christ with His poor. We need to know that it is not enough to know Christ; we have to make Him known. “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required.”

Sharing God's call to me to be a missionary

The other reason I believe God has called me here is to teach me how to love His poor. For years in India I have been surrounded by poverty, and for the most part I have ignored it. When I passed a beggar, I averted my eyes. I assumed that anyone who begged from me was a con artist, and therefore deserved nothing from me, not even an acknowledgment. That is how most Indians react to the poverty around them.

Over the past few years, the Lord has been softening my hard heart, and helping me realize my obligation to my brothers and sisters who have so much less than I do. As we walk through the dirty streets, my American mission partner catches the eye of most beggars, and they come toward us with hands outstretched and a pitiful story on their lips.

Whether the story is true or not, I can look them in the eye. I can smile at them and greet them as a brother, a sister. I can share with them some bread and a holy picture. I can ask them what their name is, and I can tell them ‘God bless you’. Somehow I can let them know that they are loved, they are of value to someone, they are not forgotten or ignored by everyone.

I have to unlearn my immediate instinct of turning away, of judging them and distancing myself from them, and I think the Lord knew that he had to take me to a new country to learn that. We are still praying about ways to help the poor without enabling them to cheat us, or live a lazy life. But we know the answer is never to do nothing.

I also hope and believe that God is going to use us to remind people that He is real; He is a God who answers prayers, who offers salvation, forgiveness and a new beginning. In Him, we truly receive fullness of life, and I know this because I have experienced it, and I have witnessed it. Many people who were baptized Catholics as children may never have understood it or realized it. We are here as witnesses to a loving, living God.

We have also been told by more than one priest that the Philippines need missionaries. Their young people have questions; we’re here to answer them. The families have not fully understood how to live a Christian life; we’re here to witness to them. Many lay Catholics don’t realize that their faith is more than going to church; we’re here to remind them of that. God sends people from different countries because a foreign prophet is noticed, and listened to.

Now you know. That’s what a couple of lay Catholic missionaries are doing in the Philippines.

Do Not Worry About Tomorrow

2011-02-28T09:39:00.003+08:00

Today at Mass I was distracted. My mind flitted from one thing to the next. I briefly asked the Lord to speak to me through the Mass, and then my mind went crazy again, like a sleep-deprived toddler with a sugar high.

"Do I have what I need? Do I need to buy a pair of shorts? I'm sure there's something I've forgotten. What about all the papers and copies of things I need to carry with me? I need to focus so I don't forget anything. Are all my clothes going to fit in my bags? Do I need to give away some more? But I need them! What about shoes? I need a rain coat or an umbrella. I wonder where we'll stay. Will we have enough money to buy the cooking equipment that we need? I hope we don't mess up or forget anything before our flight tomorrow. Will I be as nervous as I was when I left India? Will there be complications I don't know how to deal with?"

And then the Lord spoke. Very clearly. This was the Gospel-

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life,
what you will eat or drink,
or about your body, what you will wear.
Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?
Look at the birds in the sky;
they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns,
yet your heavenly Father feeds them.
Are not you more important than they?
Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?
Why are you anxious about clothes?
Learn from the way the wild flowers grow.
They do not work or spin.
But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor
was clothed like one of them.
If God so clothes the grass of the field,
which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow,
will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?
So do not worry and say, ‘What are we to eat?’
or ‘What are we to drink?’or ‘What are we to wear?’
All these things the pagans seek.
Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.
But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,
and all these things will be given you besides.
Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.

Matt 6:25-34

And the Psalm said:
Only in God be at rest, my soul,
for from him comes my hope.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
my stronghold; I shall not be disturbed.

My soul is at rest.

Philippines!

2011-02-24T02:38:00.005+08:00

Dear Awesome Readers- Family, Friends, Friends of Friends and Complete Strangers,

Guess what? I am finally leaving for my first mission post... the city of Cagayan de Oro, Philippines! Let's hear a loud 'Praise the Lord!' from all of you! Thank you for those who prayed for me to get my visa. I will be living with my awesome mission partner, Teresa Reardon, a second-year missionary, whose last mission post was Mexico.

Can you tell that I'm excited?

We leave on February 28th, and will be in the Philippines on the 2nd of March. I will celebrate my 25th birthday in Manila. We will live in Cagayan for the next nine months working with the diocese and the local Sword of the Spirit community. Another FMC family, the Alvarezes, will be living on an island not too far from us. Ms. Genie will be with us in the Philippines for the first two weeks, installing us, helping us to get settled, and speaking at different events.

I'm really excited! God has been so faithful! For so long, I have felt His call to be a missionary, and I will finally be living and working as a foreign missionary. I feel a sense of hope and anticipation. I'm can't wait to see how God will use us and form us in the next nine months. Once again, I will be leaving family... the mission family that the Lord provided me with in the past eight months... flying to the other side of the world, to a new country, a new culture, new challenges, new adventures... and I am at peace. I feel very sure that this is where God wants us, and I know He's leading our little itinerant group of missionaries.

Pray for me in the next few days as I prepare to leave (there are so many things I have to get done), and in our travels. I promise that once I'm in mission I will update this blog regularly with news and pictures. And expect a newsletter in about a month. I love you all, and I am so grateful for your prayers and encouragement.

Teresa and I two months ago

Alive Again!

2011-02-14T12:36:00.005+08:00

Today I had a little vision of what my life has been at times and what it could have been if I had not chosen to accept the invitation that the Lord gave me.

I went to sleep late last night, and woke up for Mass tired, listless and uninspired. I spent the morning on the couch with my computer and a headache. I finally took a long long nap and woke up at 6 pm. And that's when I realized I had missed the most beautiful day of February. It had warmed up, the air was fresh, crisp and cool. The sun shone brightly, the sky was blue. And I slept through it all.

Meanwhile my mission sister Sarah cooked lunch, went for a boat ride in our pond, baked cookies and visited her brother in Lafayette. I felt such a sense of loss. This day would never come back. I could have LIVED, instead I just existed. I could have LOVED, instead I lost myself in a little cocoon of selfishness.

Suppose that was how my whole life passed? Suppose I sleep-walked through my life, never opening my eyes to see the beauty around me, never opened my heart to love the funny, beautiful, original, lovable people in my world? Suppose I kept my gaze fixed on the mud, and never saw the stars? Suppose I crawled through life when I was supposed to be flying? Suppose I never considered the possibility that all the beauty in the world was pointing me to a Love far beyond anything I could have imagined?

Horror. What a sad, empty, useless life.

But, hey! Our God is a God of second chances. I got up, ready to begin again. I went for a run in the fading light, came home and cleaned and organized stuff, made plans, listened to my music and sang along. I prayed, ate tamales and chocolate chip cookies. Tomorrow I babysit, get together with my missionary family for a Saint Valentine's Day Dessert and Tea Party, work in the office, enjoy the warm weather, dance, sing, laugh, play, create, read, think, serve, live, love!

I'm almost 25, I have my life ahead of me, I'm about to begin my first year as a missionary, and I couldn't be happier... I'm awake, I'm alive, and I'm in love!

P.S. Listen to Matt Maher's 'Alive Again'...

I woke up in darkness
sounded by silence
oh where, where have I gone?

I woke to reality
losing its grip on me
oh where, where have I gone?
...
You called and you shouted
broke through my deafness
now I’m breathing in
and breathing out
I’m alive again!

You shattered my darkness
washed away my blindness
now I’m breathing in
and breathing out
I’m alive again!

A Foreign Missionary in the USA

2011-02-07T09:38:00.006+08:00

So I was wondering how I would spend my time here in Louisiana before I finally leave for missions. I needn't have worried. At the beginning of the week, I prayed that the Lord would give me opportunities to be a missionary. And, boy, did he!

Every single day I had opportunities to serve, and was completely exhausted by the end of the day. When I read Ms. Genie's book 'Go, You are Sent', she says that she and Mr. Frank prayed "Lord, let me fall into bed every night exhausted in your service." I remember thinking that that was I wanted too. And so the Lord gave me a taste of what missionary life is really like this past week. Let me tell you about a couple of things I did.

On Tuesday, missionaries Sarah, James, Jonathan and I woke up at the crack of dawn (read 6 am... I'm not exactly an early riser) and drove to a school to talk to high school students about vocations. "What is a vocation? What is YOUR vocation? You and I are called first of all to be holy! To be saints! How can I know what God is calling me to be?" I shared with them my missionary vocation, and how God spoke to me and called me. I also told them that missionaries have the coolest lives in the world. Sarah told them missionaries don't shower. Lol.

I was incredibly sleepy, and slept all the way there and all the way back (it was an hour's drive) but the Lord showed me that I didn't need to be completely rested, completely at the top of my game in order for me to be a missionary. I also didn't have to get the perfect reaction to know that what I was doing was important. I felt like a lot of the kids were kind of comatose, not responding much. But I remembered- 'We are not called to be successful, but faithful." I am called to plant the seeds, to tell the kids that God has a plan for their lives. He is the One who will take it from there.

Then yesterday Sarah, James and I joined John Paul Summers, FMC's youth minister, at a confirmation retreat. I was supposed to be giving a talk about how as Christians we are are called to service, and also to help with the small group sharing time.

I guess I had forgotten what my own confirmation class had been like- most kids were there because they had to be there, most kids didn't care at all about that 'Jesus stuff', most kids would die before actually participating or responding seriously to anything that was happening at the retreat. In fact the main purpose of such a retreat was to practice your extremely sarcastic and witty comments. Well, that was 10 years ago with a bunch of 14 year olds in India. This was 2011, with a bunch of 17 year olds in the heart of Louisiana. And it was much worse. They just didn't care. they laughed, they talked while a talk was going on, they refused to share seriously during the small group sessions, they told me they hadn't heard the talk at all. Not all, but most.

I felt my heart breaking as the day progressed. I felt like I could see the world the way God sees it- ignoring Him, mocking Him, rejecting his love. And how much He loved them. I could see the potential in them, I could see the open hearts and joyful lives that the Lord wanted to give them. It was like watching an action movie where the hero had come swinging in, but the prisoners refused to be freed. He had the key to the locked gates, but they didn't want it. It made me so sad.

I prayed. I realized I had not really prayed much for the kids before coming to the retreat, I had not made any sacrifices to prepare. So I prayed right then. I said "Lord, DO something. Holy Spirit, we need help."

And then at about 6 o clock in the evening, James said "I feel like i should get up and give them my testimony." "Do it!" I said. It was the Holy Spirit that inspired him. So he got up and began to share how he had been in the same place as them, in Catholic school, with a whole lot of head knowledge about God, but nothing more than that. He talked about how God reached him, and called him to something more, how he investigated the Catholic faith to see if it was really true, and how it all checked out.

He talked about how he heard the AUDIBLE voice of God in the deserts of Mexico (Did you say audible? Yes, I did. Read his story here.)

And as he talked I saw them listening. There was silence, and there was attentiveness. After he spoke, their priest, a young and holy man of God came up and said that he felt inspired to share something that he had never shared before. he said that many years ago he had been at a Confirmation retreat, and he had been angry at God because his mother had just died. He said that even though he had not been interested in anything happening there, something got through, and he decided to try praying just once. He said that two weeks later he received his vocation.

In today's reading, Saint Paul said "I came to you in weakness and fear and much trembling, and my message and my proclamation were not with persuasive words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of Spirit and power, so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God."

I felt like that's what happened. The Holy Spirit spoke. The power of God was revealed. Later that night Sarah obeyed the prompting of the Spirit, and with much weakness and fear and trembling (literally) she shared her own testimony, of how the Lord set her free from her bondage to sin and the guilt she carried.

And last of all, I gave my talk about service, and how God is calling us to something more than just drifting through life.

"The purpose of our lives here on earth is to LOVE!"

"Nate Saint, a missionary martyr said 'People tell me I am wasting my life, and I tell them- Everyone is wasting their life on something, and when the bubble of this earthly life bursts, what will they have left of eternal significance?"

As I spoke I once again could see attention, I could see responsiveness. As I spoke, I could feel a fire burning in my heart.

That day God used all of us to speak to His children, to speak His words, communicate His love, His presence, His invitation.

I was exhausted, but I was happy. I am doing what I have been called to do.

D.C. March for Life

2011-01-31T15:15:00.001+08:00

So I attended the Washington D.C. March for life, a huge protest march on the anniversary of Roe vs. Wade, the case in which the US Supreme Court legalized abortion in 1973. So just a few thoughts and observations from my experience there, as well as what I've read...

There were about 400,000 protesters from all over the country, but the March was ignored by the mainstream media. Who says the media isn't biased? Here's a funny satirical article about it. Apparently every year the same thing happens. Hundreds of thousands march through the streets of the nation's capital, and no one really notices or reports it. I think there were a couple of articles, and only on the religion pages. They don't see it as a civil rights issue.

How about this? This picture was used on one news site- and it was the most unrepresentative picture they could have possibly found. The protesters were overwhelmingly young and so so joyful.

(Picture removed because I'm not sure about copy-write)

Time lapse video of the march for life- taken over an hour and a half.

One emphasis of the pro-life movement that I like is that we are pro- LIFE not just anti-abortion. We need to support and celebrate life, not just focus on the evil of abortion. Human life in all it's stages and forms- babies, children, the handicapped, men, women, the elderly, the infirm... life is a gift from God, and life is GOOD. That means doing what we can to love and help PEOPLE. The life of the pregnant mother is valuable too.

It was encouraging to me to see so many people who would voluntarily brave the cold to make a statement in support of the little ones who have no voice.

Here are some of the pro-life slogans I saw or heard about-

Men Regret Lost Fatherhood. Abortion Isn't Healthcare because Killing Isn't Healing. I Regret my Abortion. If it's not a Baby, You're Not Pregnant. Smile, Yo' Mama Chose Life. I'm a Baby, Not a Choice. Save the Baby Humans! Choose Life!

Some groups called out to each other: "We love babies, yes we do! We love babies, how 'bout you?"

Before the march started, we attended the huge youth rally and Mass at the Verizon center. I had never seen so many Catholic youth together in one place. I took a few videos... no photos because my battery died.

It was beautiful to see the hundreds of priests walking in. So many lives dedicated to God, so many representatives of him, so many and so young.

Each diocese cheered for their own bishop. I like the bit where everybody cheers and cheers for the papal nuncio.

I am captivated by the depth and beauty of Danielle Rose's voice and music... I actually bought her album 'I Thirst' (which I probably shouldn't have.. oh well, I'll consider it an early birthday present to myself) which is inspired by the life and spirituality of Mother Teresa.

These Little Ones

2011-01-29T07:05:00.005+08:00

Little lay Catholic missionaries

I walked into the big house filled with excitement. I was meeting my heroes, Scott and Kimberly Hahn. They responded so graciously to three strangers walking into their house. Had this happened to them many times before?

We sat and chatted a little. I told them how much their book Rome Sweet Home had influenced me. I did not tell Scott Hahn that for me, meeting him was the next best thing to meeting the Pope. That might have freaked him out just a little.

I was surprised by how old they were- most of their kids are adults, and they even have grandchildren. The book was obviously written a long time ago. I must have read it ten years ago.. time flies when you're getting old.

Anyway, so we sat together and talked, took a picture, and then we asked them to pray a blessing for us. Kimberly prayed, and then we began to make going away movements. We had just barged into their house, so we didn't think we should stay much longer.

But then Scott Hahn asked us "Do you have a few minutes?"

Uh.. do we have a few minutes for Scott Hahn? Duh!

So he sat us down and gave us a mini theology lecture on missions! It blessed me so much.

He said that as Kimberly was praying he thought of a passage from Matthew 10, where Jesus sends out the apostles. At the end of the chapter, He says ‘Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.’

Dr. Hahn's thought was that although people assume Jesus is talking about the same people- the prophet, the righteous person and the little ones. But he said it's possible that Jesus was talking about a hierarchy of His workers, and that we, the lay missionaries were the little ones, in some versions called 'the least of these'.

Since my patron saint for this year of missions is St. Thérèse, the thought delighted me. Her way of littleness and humility have inspired me, as have the Little Sisters of the Poor, and in particular my great-aunt Sister Cecile, known as Auntie Beattie to her family.

And then Scott Hahn said "I was just thinking... how much God loves you!"

I think the Lord inspired him, because two days later I needed those words.

We were at the Verizon center for the huge youth rally and Mass before the March for Life. At the end of the Mass, the Cardinal asked all the priests to stand up, while all 20,000 youth cheered for the. We then cheered for the religious sisters, the seminarians, the novices and postulants, and those discerning a religious vocation.

That's when I realized how invisible we the lay Catholic missionaries are. We are not even a blip on the radar. We are nobody in the hierarchy of the Church, even though we too are coworkers.

I also realized that there was something in me that wanted acknowledgment and honor. So silly for one who says "I no longer live, Christ now lives in me."

Jesus has chosen for us the best way of all, the way of littleness, of hiddenness. What a gift! I read somewhere that that is why Mary is mentioned so little in the Gospels- because she chose the little, hidden way.

This is a video of Danielle Rose, a Catholic singer (who sang at the youth rally) singing the Litany of Humility, a beautiful prayer, and something I should probably pray every day.

Dreams Come True

2011-01-28T08:28:00.012+08:00

Many years ago I had heard of a Catholic university in the United States, of hundreds of young people who were passionate about their faith, in love with Jesus and faithful to Mother Church. I heard of daily Masses that were packed, friends choosing to pray a rosary together, vibrant youth rallies and a passion for the truth. Wow. I told our little youth group back home about them, showed them a little video from one of the Steubenville youth conference, told them they were not alone in their love for the Lord.

I never dreamed that one day I would be walking through the campus seeing it all firsthand. Across the world, years later, and there I was. The Lord planned it all- I had a few weeks before I would be leaving for my first mission post, FMC had planned a road trip up to Washington DC for the March for Life, with a stop planned at Steubenville. James, one of our many missionaries who graduated from FUS (another testimony of the Holy Spirit at work there) and my missionary sister, Sarah, accompanied me on this pilgrimage.

The J.C Williams center

What a blessing it was! To stand in those halls, to attend a Festival of Praise (a monthly praise and worship evening) with young Catholics whose love for Jesus was visible in their unembarrassed outstretched arms and beautiful singing, to attend a packed Sunday Mass on campus, to visit the Portiuncula Chapel, a replica of the church that St. Francis built when he heard God's call to 'Rebuild my church', to visit the bookstore filled with amazing Catholic books, to be given a blessing by Father Michael Scanlan... almost too much. I also got to meet a friend from our youth programme back home who is studying in FUS now.

The bookshop made me cry, I just wanted to take all the books and send them home to India.

But wait... there's more! One of the major influences in my life have been Scott and Kimberly Hahn who wrote about their conversion to Catholicism in the book 'Rome Sweet Home'. That book motivated me to take another look at my Catholic faith, and appreciate the beauty of the teachings that have been handed down for two thousand years, and the grace I could find in the sacraments. I also read Lord Have Mercy and A Father Who Keeps His Promises, also by Scott Hahn. I have long wanted to read his book, The Lamb's Supper and Life Giving Love by Kimberly Hahn. For years my parents have bought copies of Rome Sweet Home with part of their tithe, and given them away.

Professor Hahn teaches at Franciscan, and Kimberly Hahn is on FMC's advisory board of directors. But I didn't really think I would meet them. When we arrived in Steubenville, we stayed the night with friends of some of our FMC missionaries- Keith and Iwona Major and their three children who generously accepted us into their home even though we had never met before.

When Keith Major heard how much the Hahns had influenced me, he decided I should meet them. He knows them well, so the next morning James, Sarah and I trooped into the Hahn's house, (which was three houses away) and got to meet these holy and wise people in their own home. Wow. My cup overflowed. We even got a little missionary teaching from Dr. Hahn.. but that's for another blog post.

We were graciously received by the Hahns

So many things happened in those six days of our trip... more blog posts coming. Sorry this one was so long... I just couldn't stop. Praise God for 'giving us the desires of our heart.' Psalm 37:4

Choosing Saints

2010-12-28T00:57:00.004+08:00

Most people pick a patron saint when they receive the sacrament of Confirmation at the age of 14. For some reason, my parish decided to skip this beautiful tradition, so I have never had a patron saint. A few years ago I began to read Catholic blogs, and realized that I was missing out on something good. Especially when I read Jen's A Name for Baby Joy and other stories like that. My mother generally seemed to have the same experience of heavenly friends- at different points in her life, the Lord would send her someone to help her and inspire her and pray for her, and He'd send her books and movies and all sorts of information about the saint.

So I have been trying to figure out who my patron saint should be for a few years. I do like the stories that I've read about Don Bosco, St. Francis of Assissi, Padre Pio, etc. But I never found a saint that I could completely identify with, or one I could commit to for life. :-)

This morning I was reading one of my favourite blogs- Conversion Diary and she had made this little program 'Saint's Name Generator'. So I decided to take the plunge. "Lord, send me a patron saint for 2011, for my first year in missions." (Notice how I didn't commit for life... only for a year.) I hit the button, hoping I wouldn't get some random saint name like 'Dormition of Mary'... something I pulled up once before. That's not even a saint!

Guess who I got?

St. Therese of Lisieux, patron saint of missionaries.

I'm all set! :-)

P.S. I recently read her autobiography, Story of a Soul, and I loved it. I even got it for my mother for her anniversary. I love her 'little way'.

"Our Lord needs from us neither great deeds nor profound thoughts. Neither intelligence nor talents. He cherishes simplicity."

Divinity is Always Where One Least Expects to Find It

2010-12-25T12:21:00.004+08:00

As I prepare for my first Christmas away from home, I once again started thinking about what all this is about. People keep saying stuff about 'Jesus is the reason for the season' and how 'the real meaning of Christmas' is being lost. But what does that really mean?

When I try to think of the real meaning, I picture the nativity scene. Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus, cows, shepherds, angels, wise men. And then I stop. What is the big deal? I keep feeling like I'm missing the point, missing the awesomeness, lulled into boredom by the familiarity of the scene. It's even easier to lose perspective when you are not consciously choosing to think about it. It's easy enough to fill Christmas with noise and good food and carols, and jokes and fun, family and friends, greeting, good feelings... all of them good things in themselves. But not if they make me forget.

A few months ago I started reading this book by Fulton Sheen- The Divine Romance. As I read this passage, I got it! I rediscovered the awe, the beauty, the wonder, the breathtaking-ness of the fact of Christmas. Yes! This is what it is about! And this is also why it's easy to forget. As I remember, I just feel so grateful that I'm leaving for missions in a month- the 'stable of the world', where Christmas is a daily reality.

Out on a hillside in a stable cave, where shepherds sometimes drove their flocks in time of storm, Joseph and Mary went at last for shelter. There, in a place of peace in the lonely abandonment of a cold windswept cave, there under the floor of the world, He Who is born without a mother in heaven, is born without a father on earth.

Of every other child that is born into this world, friends can say that it resembles his mother. This was the first instance in time that anyone could say that the mother resembled the Child. This is the beautiful paradox of the Child Who made his mother, the mother, too, was only a child. It was also the first time in history of this world that anyone could ever think of heaven as being anywhere else than “somewhere up there”; when the infant Child Jesus was in her arms, Mary now looked down to Heaven.

In the filthiest place in the world, Purity is born. He, Who was later to be slaughtered, “crucified” by men acting as beasts, was born among beasts. He, Who would call Himself the “living Bread descended from Heaven,” was laid in a manger, literally, a cow trough, a place to eat. Centuries before, the Jews had worshiped the golden calf, and the Greeks, the donkey. Men bowed down to them as a God. The ox and the donkey now were present in the stable to make their innocent reparation, bowing down before their God.

There was no room in the inn, but there was room in the stable. The inn is the gathering place of public opinion, the focal point of the world’s moods, the rendezvous of the worldly, the rallying place of the popular and the successful. But the stable is a place for the out-casts, the ignored, the forgotten.

The world might have expected the Son of God to be born...if He was to be born at all...in an inn. A stable would be the last place in the world where one would have looked for Him. No worldly mind would ever have suspected that He, Who could create the sun to warm the earth would one day have need of an ox and donkey to warm Him with their breath; and to think that He, Who in the language of Scriptures, could stop the turning about of the star Arcturus would have His birthplace dictated by an imperial census; that He, Who clothed the fields with grass, would Himself be naked; that He, from Whose hands came the planets and stars, would one day have tiny arms that were not long enough to touch the huge heads of cattle, that the feet which trod the everlasting hills would one day be too weak to walk; that the Eternal Word would be dumb, that Omnipotence would be wrapped in swaddling clothes, that Salvation would lie in a manger, a place where cows eat. No one would ever have suspected that God coming to this earth would ever be so helpless.

And that is precisely why so many miss Him. For the Creator to come among His creatures and be ignored by them, for God to come among His own and not be received by His own; for God to be homeless at home; that could only mean one thing to the worldly mind: the Babe could not have been God at all. And that is just why the world missed Him.

The Son of God made man was invited to enter His own world through a back door. Exiled from the earth, He was born under the earth, in a sense, the first Cave Man in recorded history. There He shook the earth to its very foundations. Because He was born in a cave, hewn out of rock, all who wish to see Him must stoop.

To stoop is the mark of humility. The proud refuse to stoop and, therefore, they miss Divinity. Those however, who bend their egos and enter, find that they are not in a cave at all, but in a new universe where sits a Holy Babe on His mother’s lap, with the world poised on His fingers.

Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen

Riches Hidden in Secret Places

2010-12-08T05:01:00.004+08:00

About a week ago, I was praying in the chapel, bringing to the Lord all my confusion and questions about the future and all the silly little things that were worrying me. I had recently been feeling that I needed to listen more. I was so busy talking to the Lord, that I didn't take the time just to be quiet and allow Him to speak. Partly because I felt like even if He did speak I wouldn't hear, and partly because I was afraid it would just be me talking to myself, and partly because I was too lazy... I figured I would just pray and then let things work themselves out. No need for direct guidance for me.

Funny aside: (I wrote this in my diary a month ago) A couple of days ago I was praying, and thinking that I needed to listen to the Spirit talking to me, to be more attentive to His voice. People often talk of that still, small voice, but I had rarely heard it. So I said “Okay, Lord, I’m going to be quiet and listen now. Say something.”

And then I heard a voice in my head saying “Testing, testing…”

LOL! This is why I don’t trust myself to receive messages from God. There’s so much of me in there! I just can’t stop!

Anyway, so I sat there in the chapel, and tried to be silent and still. The Lord knows how short my attention span is, so pretty soon I heard "Isaiah 45".

"Isaiah 45, huh? That's you, Susanna, isn't it? Making stuff up? What if I say 'Isaiah 47'? Does that sound right too? What about 'Isaiah 40'?"

Strangely, they did not sound right. So I wrote down 'Isaiah 45' in my prayer journal, and then promptly forgot about it. Yeah, in tune with God's voice I certainly am.

The next day during my prayer time I remembered. So I opened Isaiah 45, and read. Wow. It was full of good stuff - stuff that I needed to hear, stuff that directly addressed issues I was going through.

One of the things I was worrying about was the fact that I was spending too much money on a very important gift I just had to get. This is different from my missionary funds, obviously, so I had to spend my personal money, and let's just say there's not all that much of it.

Isaiah 45, verse 3 says:

I will give you the treasures of darkness
and riches hidden in secret places, so that you may know that it is I, the Lord,
the God of Israel, who call you by your name.

"Riches hidden in secret places? Really, Lord? Does that mean I'm going to find some money somewhere? Or maybe You mean spiritual riches... " I am sad to report that the second possibility didn't excite me as much as the first.

As I walked back to my aprtment, I was still thinking about that particular verse. I came upstairs and then started pulling out some books I needed to give someone. As I opened the package in which one of the books was kept, out fell a roll of $1 bills. So it was just $5, but it was so exciting. In the past six months that I've been here that has not happened to me once. It is far from the amount I needed, but it's a start. And it's a reminder that 'He will give me treasure and riches so that I may know that it is He who called me.'

And another miracle of His provision- I had been hoping for a camera before I left on mission. I had one really old camera that broke shortly after I arrived in the States. And I feel like owning a camera is important in mission, just so I can keep people updated about my life in missions, use pictures for my blog and newsletter. So out of the blue I came across this website called Goodness Reigns. It had a monthly competition where the prize was a free Flip camera.. and to cut a long story short, I won! Yay!

I did just find out that the Flip is a video camera only, and can't take photos, but still... I'm pretty excited! And my mission partner has a camera, so we should manage.

Oranges and Chocolates and Hugs

2010-11-24T10:07:00.006+08:00

Today was a hard day. I woke up with a cloud around my head. I spent some time in prayer, and felt a little better, but as the day went on , the black mood returned, and I couldn't (and partly wouldn't) shake it off. I felt alone. I missed my Mama's hugs. I felt tired. I felt depressed and I felt weepy.

This happens so rarely. In fact, I haven't had a really homesick day day since I had left. We were working at FMC's new youth center that we were cleaning and preparing for the wedding of two of our missionaries. I was alone in the top floor for part of the morning making beds and crying and feeling sorry for myself. I knew that I didn't really have anything to feel sad about. I knew how much I was blessed, but my emotions didn't seem to care too much about being rational.

So there I was feeling sad and depressed and alone. Then Ellie, age 13, one of my band of crazy missionary sisters, came upstairs looking for me. Yay! I had someone to complain to. She had never seen me like that, but she was a trooper. She didn't encourage me to feel sorry for myself, but gently suggested that we play the 'Praising Game'. We started it in Mexico as we walked back hungry and cold from a home visit. It's easy- you just have to take turns to praise God for something, without missing a beat.

Ellie, Comforter No.1

Anyway, so that did help. As I was talking to Ellie and trying to explain mood swings and depression,
Me: I want chocolate. Chocolate will help. But Ellie, you have to know that chocolate isn't the answer. You have to turn to the Lord for comfort when you get like this.
Ellie: Er okay.
Me: I miss my Mama's hugs sooo much today. I don't know when next I'm going to get one. I may not see her for another two years. I want to cry some more.
Ellie: There, there (Or something to that effect)

Some time later my missionary sister Sarah came up, and petted me and sympathized and hugged me and loved on me (as she likes to call it). She also told me I needed to eat more healthily, and that I was probably tired because I hadn't eaten a healthy breakfast that morning.
Me (dreamily): Fruit. I would love some fruit.
Sarah: Mmm.. grapes. I need grapes.
Ellie: Me too!
Me: My body craves fruit right now.

Sarah, Comforter No. 2

A few minutes later, Meredith, age 10, and Rachel, age 8 walk in. With a bowl of chocolates. And an orange. After we pounced on them, Meredith asked me "Would you like a hug?" Oh I meant to say 'Would you like an orange, but since I said hug..." and she came and gave me a big hug.

The orange, the chocolate, the hugs and the love helped so much. Sometimes I wonder if my Jesus is almost laughing at me. Nobody loves you? You're all alone? You want chocolate? And fruit? Take that!

Beautiful Feet

2010-11-22T11:43:00.005+08:00

How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news! Romans 10:15

Turning the World Upside Down

2010-11-17T23:55:00.009+08:00

One of the things we studied as a part of our missionary training was the Acts of the Apostles. You know, learning how to be missionaries, from the first missionaries themselves. What boldness and courage they had! If FMC has a patron saint, it is probably Saint Paul the evangelist.

One day we came across this verse as we read Acts-

When they could not find them, they dragged Jason and some believers before the city authorities, shouting, ‘These people who have been turning the world upside down have come here also... Acts 17:6

Turning the world upside down... the phrase caught my fancy. What did it mean? Were they there to mess with the established way of things? What did upside down mean? I found part of my answer as I read this awesome book- Happy are You Poor by Thomas Dubay. Here's what he said:

If we turn to the pages of the New Testament we find a picture as opposite (to the world) as it could be: humility, being last, unknown, hidden in Christ, is a condition for getting into the kingdom... prestige is worthless and even an obstacle to greatness... the hard road and the narrow gate, carrying the cross everyday is immensely important. .. dying to our selfishness and crucifying our illusory desires are indispensable... impressing people is of no importance at all, whereas being pleasing to the divine eyes is everything... virginity is a favoured and privileged state, and chaste fidelity in marriage mirrors the very union of Christ and his church... one may not try to best others; rather he is to serve them as though he were a slave...

We are called to turn the world upside down! Because that's what Jesus did. We can't be Christians if we think like the world, talk like the world, live like the world. The world is messed up, and we come with Christ to be restored and allow Him to restore the world through us. In fact, I feel like the world is the wrong way up, and we come to turn it upside down- and set it the right way up.

The world says "Look out for yourself. Look after Number One. Make sure you have what you need, that your life is secure."
Jesus says "Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it."

The world says "Sell yourself. Make sure everyone knows how great you are. Self-promotion is everything."
Jesus says "All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."

The world says "It is your right to pursue wealth and fame and pleasure, and these will satisfy your hunger for something more. And when you have enough, give it a little bit away, and you will be a good person."
Jesus said "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me."

The world says "The worst possible fate for a person is to be single. If you have no romance n your life, you have nothing. You will die a lonely, crazy, unhappy bachelor/spinster."
God says "I have loved you with an everlasting love. Remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age."

For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God. 1 Cor 3:19

So off we go to turn the world upside down. Good thing I practised so many headstands during Intake. :-)

Visions

2010-11-16T03:36:00.003+08:00

Last week we spent three days doing a Life in the Spirit Seminar. I've attended quite a few LSS's in my time, and have even helped run them, and adapted the talks for a kids' version. Basically the life in the Spirit talks are a set of talks used by Catholics and Christians all over the world to renew our relationship with the Father, Son and Spirit. I like it because it gives you a crash course on Christianity, emphasizing the main things that sometimes get lost when you grow up as a Catholic.

We talked about the love of God, the reality of sin and the need for salvation, repentance and faith, new life in the Spirit and receiving God's gift of the Spirit. We ended with a session in which we prayed for each other to receiver the power and gifts of the Spirit, promised in the Bible- 'But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.’ Acts 1:8

It was especially relevant for us because we are going out soon to be His witnesses to the ends of the earth. During our prayer many of us received visions for each other, that helped give us a sense of purpose and strength for our future.

The next day we had Saltillo Day, a day of pilgrimage to the Cathedral and the Miracle chapel, lunch at a restaurant and a day in the local market, either window shopping or buying little things (we could only afford little things).

In the morning as we prayed in the miracle chapel, I was talking to the Lord.

"Lord, I so often forget where I am, where I've come from and where I'm going. Maybe it's because I have such a short attention span. Every now and again I just feel a sense of disorientation. Why am I here? What is my purpose? I just feel a little lost, like I'm drifting in a dream. Give me perspective. Re-orient me."

So He did.

I saw myself on a road in the midst of wide open land. I was dancing along the road, filled with joy. The road was long, but I could see where it was going. Right at the end it reached a horizon of clouds and rainbows, and I knew that just after that was heaven, and Someone waiting for me. My gaze was fixed on that end, and that was the reason for my laughter and my joy and my dancing. There were some people ahead of me on the road, and some behind me, all dancing with joy. There were many not on the road at all. But as I danced along, I drew the people I came across into the dance, and we linked arms and continued to dance on.

Perspective. Thank You, Lord.

Disclaimer: I don't think that means that following God is going to be easy, or without pain, or without suffering. But I think that I am going to have joy in spite of weary legs and blisters and sprains and thorns and ditches... because I know where I'm going.

Mission Pictures 2

2010-11-15T11:45:00.000+08:00

Our youngest missionary doing his thing!

Intake 2010

2010-11-15T08:46:00.003+08:00

So here's a picture of the whole gang- all the new missionaries, four missionaries from Intake 2009 and Mr. Frank, Ms. Genie, and their son Simon-Peter. This is in front of the Cathedral at Saltillo, the closest big city to the little town in which we live. I spent some blessed time praying in the Cathedral, and in the Miracle chapel just next to it.

Mexico Again!

2010-11-08T02:32:00.005+08:00

So on Wednesday night, after a month and a half of Intake, our caravan left for Mexico. We planned to drive through the night and cross the border in the morning, and I guess reach General Cepeda around Thursday afternoon. You know how to make God laugh? Make plans.

A couple of hours into our journey, one of the cars broke down, and needed a part replaced. Since it was already almost midnight, we wouldn't be able to get the part till the next morning. So we decided to spend the night at the gas station at which we had stopped and continue in the morning. So we slept in the cars for a while, and spent the rest of the time in the attached store which was open all night. It was not very easy to sleep in the cars, but we didn't really care because we had so much fun hanging out together. What did we do?

We played bananagrams, we danced, we greeted people cheerily as they left the neighbouring casino. Our intrepid missionary Sarah even prayed with one lady who was worried about working so late and making it for a meeting the next morning. People seemed so happy to meet a huge bunch of missionaries going to Mexico, especially the fact that we had sixteen kids with us. One guy heard our story and gave the kids ten bucks to buy some snacks with.

The next morning we ate our breakfast- the first I tried 'biscuits and gravy'- according to Wikipedia 'It is a popular breakfast meal in the United States, especially in the South.It consists of soft dough biscuits covered in thick "country" or "white" gravy, made from the drippings of cooked pork sausage, white flour, milk, and often (but not always) bits of sausage, bacon, ground beef, or other meat. The gravy is often flavored with black pepper.'

Anyway. So we ate well, and continued on our journey. I think I spent most of that day sleeping. We reached the border town of Laredo and spent the night at a nice motel there. And the next morning, we drove into Mexico, got our visas, and were in General Cepeda by evening.

I feel like the whole adventure was a little reminder of what missionary life is like- we can make plans, but finally we are completely open to whatever God throws in. He wanted us at the gas station that night- maybe there was some danger on the way that we avoided, maybe we answered somebody's prayer with our presence and prayers and witness at the store... who knows? What we know is that 'All things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to His purpose.' Romans 8:28.

So we praised Him, and enjoyed all the craziness of being abandoned to His will. And now we're in Mexico for the next two weeks, willing to learn whatever else He has to teach us.

Gas station dance party

My Heart is Ready, O God!

2010-11-01T07:09:00.009+08:00

The past month and a half have been a very significant period of my life spiritually. I remember some years ago at a retreat in Panchgani, I was praying for an experience of God's love. I remember around me people were visibly moved as they were prayed over. One of my closest friends who has been through a lot of pain and dark times in her life. She had a vision of God's love enveloping her.

"I had no idea He loved me THAT much!" she told me through her tears. She was filled with a joy that seemed to overflow. She couldn't stop laughing for almost an hour after the prayer session, and kept hugging everybody around her.

I was really happy for her, but at the same time I was sad for me. "Why not me, Lord? Why can't I feel that love I've heard so much about?"

My faith did not depend upon that feeling, that experience. I believed that Jesus was the true God, and that the Catholic Church was His body, not because I had seen a vision, or had a spiritual experience, but because of a number of reasons and proofs that seemed to me reasonable, that fit together to make sense of the world. I had experienced answered prayers many times, and healing of relationships and situations. So I didn't want to feel His love as proof of His existence, but just as a consolation, as a reassurance that it was ME He loved.

Years later I was on the other side of the world, far away from home from family, from all that was familiar... and something had changed.

I could feel it.

That Love was suddenly not just a theory, a piece of information, but something very very real. Like a warm blanket on a cold night. Like a breeze blowing across my sweaty face. Like a hug. It was not there at every moment, but every time I cried out, every time I said "I need you!", He was there. Especially at the Eucharist. Especially at my daily prayer time in front of the Blessed Sacrament.

Why now? After so many years of trying to follow God, why was it that I was suddenly so aware of His presence, so close to His intimate love? I had experienced it in flashes a few times before, but it was infrequent.

I found the answer as I read a book - 'Happy Are You Poor' by Thomas Dubay. To put it as briefly as possible, this book is a look at the call of Christ to every Christian to live a simple, 'sparing-sharing' lifestyle and look at the value of a love-filled sharing frugality. It is an extremely challenging book, similar to 'The Irresistible Revolution' and I recommend both books... only if you're willing to be challenged.

Anyway, so as I read, certain sentences began to jump out at me-

Gospel poverty.. bestows... the experience of a radical readiness for the kingdom. Factual poverty embraced in faith does something to a person in the deep resources of his being. It matures him, develops him, makes him receptive to what the Lord Jesus is about... He is on God’s wavelength. Poverty helps dissolve... resistance to the word of God.

Why so? ...For us wounded human beings, possessing imperceptibly slips into being possessed...

I feel like the reason I was suddenly so aware of the presence of God is because of my poverty. I have nothing else. He called me to give up all the other things that I had held on to so tightly- my comfort, my routine, my sleep, my family, my nieces, my books, my stuff, my cell phone, my laziness, my security, even my dreams. For some months before I came here, I had been letting go of all those attachments.

And once I was here, I began to feel the fruit of that poverty. Most of the resistance had been dissolved. It is not perfect detachment, because every morning I have to make that choice again, the choice to let go, to give up, not to hold anything or anyone more dear to me than Him. But it's easier now. Because I can see and feel the reward of that poverty. Freedom.

"My heart is ready, O Lord, my heart is ready." This psalm that we repeat often as we pray the Liturgy of the Hours rings in my heart more and more.

I feel free, free to receive the graces that God wants to give me, and free to go where He sends me, free to love those He sets in my path, free to live the life of freedom he has set before me.

For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery. Galatians 5:1

I'm free!

A Voice in Our Heads

2010-10-18T09:19:00.005+08:00

So this is yet another amazing experiment planned by this group in New York City called Improv Everywhere. Isn't it fun?

So as I was watching this I suddenly realized that those crazy people on the streets of New York are us! The crazy Christians of this world. People look at us strangely because we seem to be moving at a different pace, dancing to a different tune, tuning in to a different station. We are in the world, but not of the world. We are strangely connected, and we are on a mission that nobody else really gets. We are connected by a Voice that other people don't hear. We are heading in the same direction, because of that Voice. We may not even know why exactly we're taking a particular route, or why we're wearing red or yellow t shirts, but we know the Voice knows, and we trust the Voice. Some people think we're crazy, some people think we're cool, everybody thinks we're different. We don't really care. We have that joy in our hearts and that spring in our steps. We dance to that music, the soundtrack of the saints, as Jen from Conversion Diary puts it.

You know the cool thing? Anybody can join us! All they have to do is tune in to that Voice. The Voice wants us all. Everyone's invited.

Love is It's Own Reward

2010-10-04T01:58:00.008+08:00

One of the things that Lord has been teaching me here is to learn how to love, how to sometimes say no to 'me' and yes to everybody else. For a lot of my youth (notice how I refer to my youth as if it is in the distant past) I chose the easy way out of life- I lived in my own little world of books, and avoided the inconvenience and effort and potential hurt of building relationships. Over the years, the Lord has helped me to change.

Living in community sure makes it difficult to stay in a shell! I share an apartment with four girls, and a bedroom with three, and a bed with one! I live in a two-storey house, and the lower half is occupied by a family of twelve! We spend most of our time in the big house with the rest of the missionaries in training- altogether eight adults and sixteen children! Whether I like it or not, I'm with people most of the time.

Kids everywhere!

But guess what? I like it! The painful move from the world of ME to the world of Everybody Else is actually worth it! I discovered this some years ago when I moved from my job as an instructional designer in an air-conditioned office to a job as a third grade teacher in a village school. God created us for love, and if we aren't loving, we aren't living. Here are some moments where I discovered just how sweet community life can be-

Early Morning Hugs
A few days ago I was leaving the house at about 7 am to pray, and I met Bridget, 4, and Annie, 5, downstairs. It was Bridget’s birthday, so I gave her a big hug, and then both she and Annie took turns giving me big hugs. At one point they were both hugging me and Annie goes “You smell nice, Susanna!” Heh. What better way to start my day?

Dance Party
We had just welcomed the Lord's Day in with prayer and a meal, and it was just about 7 pm. How should I use my free Saturday evening? Well, my room mate Sarah, the oldest Eckstine daughter, Abi and I decided to practise our headstands in the living room. Suddenly all the little kids discovered us, and decided that the funnest possible thing they could possibly do was headstands and somersaults on the carpeted floor of the living room. It rapidly developed into a little show, with each one taking a turn to show off their moves. We whistled and hollered and cheered whike each one got their moment of fame. "Go, Meredith! Woo hoo!" "Okay, now it's Bridget's turn! Yay, Bridget! That's awesome!" And then Maddie/Sunny, my other room mate put on some Disney music and all the little kids and the little kids within us danced and twirled and swooped and jumped and spun and pranced around the room for an hour. It was very loud, it was pretty wearing (what with carrying and spinning little kids of all sizes), and it was so much fun! I never would have planned such an evening for myself... but the Lord planned it for me.

Of One Heart and Mind
"Aaaaahh! My back hurts! Something bit me! The pain is spreading! I'm going to die!" My ever-practical room mate Sarah immediately took a look at the red mark on my back, showed some sympathy... and prayed! I've been blessed to experience the "Let's pray about it" spirituality of FMC through Sarah. As soon as there's a little problem, a worry, an injury, a concern, she says "Can I pray with you?", "Will you pray with me?", "Lord Jesus, help us to stay awake today!" If I was not living WITH people, aware of their problems, and letting them into mine, I never would have that opportunity to join my prayers with others as we turn our hearts and focus our minds on our loving Father together.

Suz and Sarah

Birthday Cards
It was the night before Sarah's birthday, and I still hadn't gotten down to making her a birthday card. I waited till she was asleep so she wouldn't see me doing it. It was already late, the light was off, and I realized I had no idea where my Fevicol was, and was really doubtful of my chances of rummaging through my suitcase and cupboards with my little cell phone flashlight without waking her up. Tired already, I prayed "Lord, f you want me to make this card, you need to help me find that Fevicol". I shone the light next to my bed... and there it was. "Okay, Lord! I'll do it!" I stayed up late finishing the card. The next morning as Sarah read the cards that all the kids and I had made for her, she cried. And my tiredness was worth it.

Love costs, but it's worth it.

There are so many other little incidents that are giving me joy. Carrying a heavy baby and putting him to sleep with a lullaby. A shy smile from one of the littlest Alvarezes. Harmonizing with the beautiful voices of the older girls. Sharing fears and hopes with the other single missionaries over sushi. Receiving encouragement from Ms. Genie during our one-on-one. Taking little Becky for piggy back rides up and down stairs. I hope I remember them all. Even if I don't, I hope that this Love is going to be my life for always. If I continue to abide in the Source of all Love, Love Himself, it will be.

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God.
1 John 4:7

Training For the Race

2010-09-27T07:40:00.006+08:00

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.
Hebrews 12: 1-3

Intake is supposed to be three months of training to get us into shape spiritually and mentally for the challenging life of a missionary. For sure we will not learn everything we need to know, but we will hopefully be strengthened enough to get started. Like St. Paul says, if athletes are willing to train their bodies for a competition, how much more should we be willing to be trained for an eternal prize- heaven- for us and all the souls in our care.

One of the first few talks we had was on perseverance. Kristen talked about one of the hardest things she faced- sickness and weird undiagnosable rashes on her legs. Ack, we thought- that does sound kinda creepy. How discouraging that could be in a strange land far away from home and your Mama. Luckily such trials still seemed somewhere in the vague and distant future. As she ended her talk, she implored us, only half kidding "Guys, when you get sick, please, please, don't leave... don't quit!"

Guess what? Two days later I woke up with a really sore throat. On Monday I sat through the morning sessions with a fever and a headache. Then I stubbed my toe and got it bloody. And THEN a strange rash appeared on my legs! It felt like it was too much. I was like, "What is THAT about, Lord?"

I think it was just a little reminder that I needed to rely on the Lord even when things actually felt horrible, not just when I was pumped up about missions and life and souls and salvation. And that I needed to be prepared for those times, and be willing to accept some suffering for the sake of the Gospel.

I am pretty healthy now, and I am back to my default enthusiasm for missions, and life in general. Life is good, and I am excited to be studying again after a long long time. (I don't really count my BA in English Lit because that was two weeks of study once a year for three years... that degree is almost embarrassing) But now I am studying, and what good stuff it is too- Redemptoris Missio, Pope John-Paul's great letter all about missions. He says it all so clearly and with such urgency and zeal. Then we have the Catechism of the Catholic Church- daunting from the outside, but also fascinating once you get into it. And the documents of Vatican II. And of course, the Bible... so much good stuff! Beautiful, strong, with the voice of God ringing through each of these different books and letters. How blessed we are to have this wisdom so easily accessible to us. And three months to study it and reflect on it and take it all in!

I'm also doing something I've never done before- reading several books at the same time. I've got Theology and Sanity (another awesome book) and Blessed Are You Poor, and I need to re-read Story of a Soul.

So we're twelve days into Intake, and God is strengthening and nourishing me. I am blessed and ready to begin a new week. What crazy things will God do in the next seven days? Come back in a week to find out!

Five Days Into it...

2010-09-20T10:16:00.005+08:00

So readers, I hate to say this to you, but the only reason I'm writing right now is because I know I won't have a chance to write till next Sunday. I feel no urge to write, but I do feel the fear of not posting for a week, so here goes...

It's been five days since the long-awaited Intake began. We started with introductions and Mass at OLOB, the new youth retreat house. Then we had a mini beginning retreat on Day 2 and Day 3, in which we got some of our basics re-established. Things that we have heard before, but that we needed to hear as we began a new journey and a new commitment to God and to His call to us. It was a blessing to hear from the experienced missionaries, and to take a good look at missionary life from their perspective. We talked about having a life of prayer- being constantly aware of the presence of God around us, and investing in our daily personal prayer time. We talked about community life, about total commitment- not as much to FMC as to the Lord. If we were sure that He was the one who had called us to missions, then we had to respond with all that we have. We talked about perseverance in the face of sickness (a given in missionary life) and possible persecution. All good stuff.

We ended with Desert day- an FMC tradition where we took a packed lunch and wandered off to a lonely spot to listen to the Lord. It was a blessed time in spite of the many insects... I realize that I like nature except when it buzzes around me and crawls up my legs and bites me :-) It's going to be interesting to see how the Lord uses someone as unadventurous as me as a missionary.

On Saturday we had a work day- the whole caboodle marched off to Our Lady of the Bayous to clean up. It's pretty exciting that soon it will be used to host the youth ministry that John-Paul will lead. It was fun with the Eckstine and Alvarez kids. Sixteen kids wherever we go! Could we ever get bored? What with tales of prank-playing ghost nuns in the rooms we were cleaning, the work did not really get monotonous.

Pool day... with a bajillion kids! Fun!

And then today we had Mass followed by Pool Day at the home of one of the members of FMC's board of directors. It was so much fun! The water was perfect, the kids were thrilled, the food was plenty. And guess what? I got to jump on a trampoline for the first time in my life! It was awesome. The closest I could get to flying. Apart from my dreams and speeding down an empty road on my Activa back home. And I also got to shoot some hoops, which I haven't done for ages.

So overall a great day although my one day for communicating with my family was wasted because my family decided to go on holiday for the weekend. Humpphh! How inconsiderate! Just kidding! I have been super-blessed recently, especially by my family- I received one package from them a few days ago, and will receive another one tomorrow, from another friend who recently came to Louisiana. I'm enjoying my jeera golis which everyone here hates and spits out :-)

I am all set to begin our first normal-schedule week! (Except for a heavy cold- pray for me!)

Intake Begins

2010-09-15T02:01:00.003+08:00

It was a year and a half ago that I prepared to leave my home and my job and my country to be here with FMC for their annual three month training- Intake 2009. Then I made my official application to FMC, collected references, sent out appeal letters, mentally prepared myself. Finally when all that was in order, I got ready to apply for a visa. Except that we suddenly discovered that I couldn't just apply for an R-1 visa, FMC first had to file an I-129 with the Department of Homeland Security. How long could that possibly take, I thought. I'll just join Intake a little late.

September turned to October and then to November. Intake was over and still I waited. Meanwhile I continued to serve God where I was, in my community, in YA (our youth programme) and in my family. The Lord taught me the important lesson of surrender and trust. Meanwhile FMC continued to pray for me and encourage me from afar. Even as my community members encouraged me and said "It will definitely happen!", sometimes it just felt like a distant dream that would never come true. Finally the I-129 came through in March, but a mistake in the filing added another two months to my wait. Finally in May 2010 I received my visa.

And now, one year later, I am here for Intake, Intake 2010. A new year. A new set of excited missionaries. The Lord knew that He wanted me right here, right now.

I am pretty excited about the next two and a half months. It is going to be a fairly packed time with study of the Catechism, the Acts of the Apostles, Redemptoris Missio, teaching workshops, apologetics, assignments, service days, chores, community prayer, personal prayer and community fun time too. There are going to be sixteen kids, two married couples, three single girls and one single guy. And by the beginning of December, we will be trained, and ready to be sent out. This is going to be fun! I can't wait to see how the Lord works in us!

Blessed Assurance

2010-09-12T07:24:00.003+08:00

I just remembered something that happened three months ago that I wanted to share. It was the ninth of June, 2010, and a timid young woman from Pune, India was about to take her first flight ever. I was scared, but at the same time heavily leaning on the Lord. I wrote about how smoothly everything went in an earlier post.

But there was something that happened that flight that I forgot about, hadn't even shared with my parents (and I share everything with them.. thank you, Skype!) I was not one of those people who find the idea of being airborne scary... You know, like the old women in books who say "If God wanted us to fly, he would've given us wings!" or "It just ain't natural!" Nor had I given a second thought to stories of plane crashes. To put it simply, I did not suffer from aerophobia, aviatophobia, aviophobia or pteromechanophobia. :-) I just assumed that if God was taking me, He would look after me.

But at one point during that long flight, the PA system came on, and a voice announced that we should fasten our seat belts because we were going to hit some turbulence. I didn't really know what to expect. Then it happened. It felt like the plane was bouncing around, and I felt nauseous. For the first time I thought about death.

Those of you who know me well know that I have talked about death a lot. I have given instructions for my funeral (sing Blessed Assurance, not Coming Home, throw a party, lots of good food, dance) and instructions on how to honour my memory (wear unmatching socks), stuff like that.

But on that day, as I thought seriously about death, I started praying, and I felt a complete and deep and unmistakable peace. As the plane bucked up and down, I closed my eyes and felt God. I don't often 'feel' God. I know Him, I talk to Him, I receive His gifts, His grace, experience His little miracles, but I don't see Him. But at that moment I felt Him surrounding me in that little airplane seat. And I knew that I was not afraid of dying.

I'm His, and that won't change when I die. That day wasn't the day, but someday it will be. One day I will meet the Lover of my soul, I will rest in the sweet arms of Jesus. And as C.S. Lewis puts it, that will be not 'The End', but 'The Beginning'.

God Loves a Cheerful Giver

2010-08-30T09:09:00.006+08:00

One of the things which really made an impression on me in Mexico was the generosity that I experienced... from the poor Mexican people. It's easy to give when you have a lot, but it seems like the more you have, the less you give. And your gift is worth so much more. Like the widow's mite-

Jesus said to them, ‘Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.’ Mark 12:43-44

The first evening our team went to a poor rancho and invited people to the chapel for prayer, there were not many people. The few people who came were very old and seemed very poor. I wondered whether they were even happy that we were there. But after the prayer, I found that they were indeed grateful, and showed their love in a very practical way- they gave us watermelon! That must've been quite a gift for a poor family.

You can see that they could not have picked a better gift..

And then, when both our teams returned home tired from the evening, our Mexican missionaries Tonio and Mari invited us all for dinner to their home. They have six children! (And one on the way) They didn't NEED to feed thirteen foreigners. But they did. They welcomed us into their home and family, fed us the yummiest tortillas EVER, and showed us that we really are their brothers and sisters.

So that was another lesson that the Lord taught me through my Mexican brother and sisters- the beauty of a cheerful generous heart.

Random Mexican Experiences

2010-08-27T23:01:00.010+08:00

Here are some of my experiences and impressions as an Indian in Mexico... For me, new places are still VERY new. Back home I hardly travelled at all, and now in the space of three months I've touched Country 2 and 3, both on the other side of the world to my home. So every new experience is much more striking to me.

Every home we visited in Mexico, the people would incredulously comment on how brown I was. They are used to equating 'missionary' with 'white person'. So my brownness would always come up in conversation. An old lady would be telling us about her late husband, and "He was as brown as she is!" gesturing to me. Um, okaay...

Spot the Indian

Sarita, one of our experienced missionaries, was taking me around the town on the first day. We ducked into the bakery, and the baker looked at me and started talking in Spanish. I looked helplessly at Sarita, who is fluent in Spanish, and she explained that I was Indian.

"Soy- de- India" I painstakingly enunciated. He looked at me blankly. I repeated it. Apparently my Indian-accent Spanish and my inaudible voice don't make for good communication. Even after that he kept talking Spanish and looking straight at me, while Sarita translated.

I love the comments and questions that came up after Mexicans heard I was from India.

"India... It is very far away."
"Is India beautiful?"
"There are many poor people there.. yes? A lot of suffering?"
"Ah.. people in India don't eat cows!"

(Side note: One of my missionary brothers said that he used to think that Indians were either very poor or IT geeks.. Ah, Hollywood stereotypes)

One interesting thing is that in India it would be the height of rudeness to tell someone you've just met "You're very brown." It would be the same as saying "You're very ugly" because of India's obsession with fair skin.

But in Mexico it was just a statement of fact, not an insult. And one Mexican lady even said "You're very beautiful.. Exquisite.." Wow! :-)

One incident that sticks out for me is one evening at the ranchos. I was walking with Teresa and Gretchen, knocking on people's doors and inviting them to the chapel. "Somos misioneras Catolicas. Les invitamos a la capilla por la oración." I kept practising it in my head, but when we reached the door I would chicken out and look pleadingly at Teresa, who would always rescue us and talk kindly to the people about their dogs, their children, their flowers... I really admired her ease and friendliness.

So at one of the houses Teresa was talking to the lady of the house, and a little girl of about six was peeping out at us. Then just as we were about to leave, she ran up to me and put her arms around me. I was so amazed, and very thrilled. She clung to me and wouldn't let go. She even said something in Spanish, which none of us could understand. Heh. So precious. In India, kids are not normally very physically affectionate, so random hugs from little kids are not very common.

That's the little girl who hugged me... unfortunately I the only picture I have of her hugging me is tucked away in my memory... like most precious moments.

And one of the funniest memories I have is of Teresa's sister, Charlotte, who wanted to get a picture with a donkey... an authentic Mexican picture. Unfortunately, the donkey did not think it was such a good idea, and very blatantly rejected Charlotte's advances. So we got an awesome picture of Charlotte chasing the donkey down the road.

I liked Teresa's caption for this picture- Charlotte missed the bus

Speaking of Missionaries...

2010-08-27T00:04:00.011+08:00

So today is the 100th birthday of Mother Teresa. Who is Mother Teresa, do I hear you say? What? Oh, I don’t.

Yeah so Mother Teresa is probably one of the most famous people in the world, which if you think about it, is pretty cool, considering the kind of people who are usually famous these days. Mother Teresa has been an inspiration to many. In India, there are many people of all religions who have a special love for her, and consider her ‘their own’. She has shown people all over the world the loving compassionate face of Jesus. Missionaries have so much to learn from her.

Here are a few quotes from her... let this amazing woman’s life challenge yours.

When we have money, we lose contact with God... What can we do with too much money? Put it in the bank? We must never get into the habit of being preoccupied with the future. There is no reason to be preoccupied with it: God is there. When the desire for money comes, with it comes the desire for the things money can provide: superfluous objects, beautiful rooms, luxurious food on our table, more clothes, admirers, etc. Our needs increase, and, because one thing leads to another, the consequence is endless dissatisfaction.

Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat.

Nothing can make us holy except the presence of God... And for me, the presence of God lies in fidelity in the little things. We cannot accomplish great things — just little ones, with great love. The Sisters do little things: they help children, they visit the lonely, the sick, the unwanted. When someone tells me that the Sisters have not undertaken any great work, that they are doing little things calmly, I answer that even if they helped only one person, that would suffice. Jesus would have died for a single person, a single sinner.

If you can't feed a hundred people, then feed just one.

In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love.

Joy is a net of love by which you can catch souls.

I want you to be concerned about your next door neighbor. Do you know your next door neighbor?

When I read the things she said, I feel at the same time ashamed and encouraged... inspired to change.

I also found an interesting interview with her which answered some of my questions about how she evangelized and how she responded to the questions of the world. She is so human and so much a saint. A reminder and a challenge for all of us.

And here's a funny conversation I had about Mother Teresa and other things with the kids I was teaching in a village near Pune almost two years ago. Heh.

More Than Coincidence

2010-08-25T00:01:00.010+08:00

Before I went to Mexico on my first mission trip, I asked the Lord "Teach me something in this week, Lord. Tell me something about my missionary vocation."

On Sunday, the 8th of August, I read the Mass readings before going for Mass (I usually try to do that but I had an added reason to do that that Sunday- the Mass was in Spanish!) and the Gospel of that day was from Luke 12. Here's a part of it.

Jesus said to his disciples:
“Do not be afraid any longer, little flock,
for your Father is pleased to give you the kingdom.
Sell your belongings and give alms.
Provide money bags for yourselves that do not wear out,
an inexhaustible treasure in heaven
that no thief can reach nor moth destroy.
For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be...

From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required..."
Luke 12: 32-34, 48

As I read it I was transported back to a day in August, 2007- three years earlier.

I was at a small retreat centre in Mumbai along with the youth from our Mumbai SOS community and three FMC missionaries. We had had various sessions and times of prayer, which I don't really remember at all. What I do remember is sitting out on a sunny porch reading my Bible.

I had been praying and feeling so blessed. I had everything a person could need to be happy. I had family, I had freedom, I had friends, I had youth, I had my future ahead of me, I had the best gift of all- salvation, and an intimate love that few have known, I had peace, I had the promise of eternal life. What did I not have?

I opened the Gospel of that day- Luke 12 and read verse 48- From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required.

That was me.

'From you, Susanna, to whom much has been given, much will be required.'

I felt like there was a big finger coming out of heaven and pointing down to me.

'I'm talking to you, Susanna.'

'I have given you everything.'

'Are you willing to give it all back? Are you willing to come be a missionary?'

Yes, Lord. I don't know how, I don't where, I don't know with whom. But, yes.

Three years later here I was, on the other side of the world, scared, but ready to begin my missionary training and life. And on the day I was to begin my first mission, God sent me a little reminder. Yes, He was the one who had sent me. Yes, He would provide for my needs. Also a reminder to recommit my resources and my energy to His mission, give Him and it my heart.

It was like a little missionary anniversary.

Interestingly, this story is connected with another one. A few days before my dad had asked me if I wanted to say anything to our Sword of the Spirit community in Pune. So I quickly typed out and sent a short message saying something about how we have been given so much, and then God was calling us all to give everything, and be missionaries for Him wherever we were.

I had no idea at that point that the Gospel on that Sunday, the day when my message was read to them was saying exactly the same thing.

God has so many threads that He is weaving together. It's like one of those novels where you follow different people's stories in different places, and it's only at the end that you find out how their lives and were all interconnected. here we get glimpses now and again, but I guess we'll only get the big picture in heaven.

Maybe that'll be my first question in heaven.

"Lord, show me the big picture."

And then we'll see how all those coincidences weren't really coincidences at all.

The Wall

2010-08-22T00:13:00.009+08:00

So you read my last post and now think missionaries do nothing but have fun all day long? You think life is just a little too easy maybe? Well, this post is here to disillusion you. As you now know, one of the things missionaries do in Mexico is build houses for those who are desperate for help. So the last short term mission trip had started building a small house for the daughter of an old lady in General. They took weeks to get it almost up. And then.... the hurricane hit. And down the wall came. Everyone was really disappointed that all that hard work had gone to waste.

Rebuilding the wall

Still, they decided to start rebuilding with our mission trip. Day after day they slogged, mixing mud with shovels, piling adobe bricks one on top of the other.

Wet mud keeps it together

On the third day, they were really impressed with their progress. “Weeks!” they said “Hah! We’ve got this wall up in a day!” They sat down to take a break, and one of the girls, Charlotte, sat with her back against the wall.
And then...

Yup.

The wall fell down.

On her.

The wall shortly before it fell- note the dangerous slant

Apparently the woman for whom they were building it was so distressed that it had fallen on one of us that she just turned and fled inside and wouldn’t come out. Poor Charlotte got a bad cut on her leg. Thankfully, it wasn’t worse than that. You may think that this story isn’t particularly encouraging in any way.

Down it came.

What impressed me was the response of the missionaries to this trial. Charlotte gave a little sharing at the rancho that evening about how we needed to trust God, and that He knew best, and in the long run, it was probably best that it had fallen down. Once the wall was up again it would be the best possible wall it could be.

Jonathan, our team leader, shared that the incident reminded him that although the physical things we do for people are good, they are nothing compared to the spiritual blessings we bring them. The food we give will be eaten, the clothes will wear out, the houses may be destroyed, but if we can bring them the knowledge of the love of Christ, NOTHING can take that away from them. Salvation is a gift that can last for eternity.

So missionaries have plenty of trials too- five people fell sick during the trip, money was stolen, the car was driven into a ditch, my legs were covered with swellings from the mosquito bites (strangely it’s only the mosquitoes in Mexico that bothered me, here in Louisiana they ignore me), and I’m sure everyone had their own personal sufferings. But that did not take away from our faith, or our experience of God’s goodness. Praise God that ‘all things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose’.

The wall back up... is it falling? No! We're just kidding! ;-)

Do Missionaries Have Fun?

2010-08-21T04:17:00.007+08:00

I remember about a year ago, a guy I knew telling me ‘You are too young to be so religious...” The underlying assumption was that religion is for when you’re too old to do anything else, and that obviously religion is too boring for any normal young person. Youth is for fun! Leave religion to the people who are too old to have fun anyway! It sounds silly, but that’s how some people think. (Old people, we know you like to have fun too ;-))

But most people do think that Christians must be kind of bored (and boring). All those ‘nos’! No to premarital sex, no to getting drunk, no to drugs, no to certain books, movies and jokes... Do they just sit at home and read the Catechism of the Catholic Church on a Saturday evening? What do you think?

Do you ever wonder whether missionaries lead lives of drudgery and loneliness with no time for anything except prayer and suffering and whether pursuing holiness means being depressed and very very serious about everything in life? Real Christianity is not about all the ‘nos’, it’s about a resounding YES to God’s life-giving plan for us. So people who are truly living out His plan for their lives, are the happiest people on earth. Sure there are sufferings, and missionary life is not very easy, but there is such a deep joy that nothing can take away. So to set the record straight, missionaries have fun. A lot of fun.

I wish that everyone could have a chance to visit the Mexico mission house... you’ll see what I mean. Put together a bunch of young people who are truly at peace because they have experienced the freedom of knowing Christ, and are living their lives radically loving God and their neighbour... well, the joy overflows. There are constantly silly jokes, people singing loud and off tune as they wash dishes, dancing and tickling the little kids at our Mexican missionaries’ home, competitive games of Bananagrams, random funny games like Signs, the Family Game, the Donkey Game (invented by FMC missionaries).

Just doing their job- our resident comedians, J and J

We had our resident comedians in Mexico- James and Jonathan. The two of them together could keep everyone else in splits for hours. Then we had special Mexican birthday celebrations for the guy who organized the mission trip, Neil- where I got to whack a piñata for candy for the first time. (I only vaguely remembered what that was from the movie ‘The Emperor’s New Groove’.)

Alyse beating up the defenceless piñata

On the day after the mission trip ended, those of us who were still around went for a little picnic... and I got to experience a little slice of heaven. It was a watering hole in the hilly desert not far from General. We had to duck through thorny bushes, hike for a while, weave through some vegetation (making us feel very adventurous, and a little bit like we were in the middle of the TV show LOST) but when we got there, we felt like we had reached heaven. A small secluded spot, clear flowing water, surrounded by greenery, cloudy weather, a few raindrops hitting us now and again... it was surreal. Some of our people dived in fearlessly from scary (to me) heights. I think this place even trumped my lifelong favourite place Panchgani (a hill station near Pune).

Our view from Panchgani- my second favourite place in the world

So yeah, missionaries do have fun. As one girl who had not many ‘alive’ Catholics in her life said (in surprise) “You people are normal!” And strange as it may seem to some people, even praying is ‘fun’. “Dancing, dancing in the Kingdom... dancing in the Kingdom of God!” as we spin around with the little kids and dance with joy. We’re loved! We’re set free! God has beautiful plans for our lives! How can we not be filled with joy?

Missionaries even go dancing sometimes!

Feeding Jesus

2010-08-19T02:34:00.004+08:00

There were smaller ways that Jesus used me. On Saturday night the mission trip was officially over and most of the group had left. The four of us who were driving back on Sunday, and the three full-time missionaries who are living in Mexico were left.

It was our last meal together, we suddenly realized that there was no food ready for the night. So Theresa started making dough for flour tortillas. I offered to roll them out. So I started rolling dough (it’s pretty similar to rolling chapattis, only much thinner) and after rolling for a while Theresa told me to stop because we had enough for ourselves.

After that Catherine and I started making apple crumble (taking all Mama’s recipes on my laptop paid off) When I was done with that, I noticed that Charlotte, Theresa’s sister was still rolling tortillas. It was about 9 pm by then. For all the Indians reading this, 9 pm doesn’t seem late to you, but most Americans are used to eating dinner by about 7 pm, and sometimes even earlier. So it was really late, and everyone was really hungry. Why was the meal so delayed?

It turned out that one of the old Mexican ladies that we visit had come to the house and asked for something to eat. So Theresa gave her our tortillas. I was thrilled when I heard that! We got to feed Jesus! “You saw me hungry, and you fed me... whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me.”

We got to physically give of what we had been given. It didn’t cost us much- we just had to wait a little longer for our meal, and roll a few more tortillas, and it was still quite enough to fill us- but it did cost us something. And I think that makes our gift more valuable. Rolling those tortillas was a joy. I wish that I could remember that every act of love is a gift to Jesus, and do it with that joy- each prayer I say for those who need prayers, each little suffering I face as I learn to be a missionary, each time I decide not to complain, or offer to help when I don’t feel like it. All for love. God can and will use each love offering.

I am amazed and inspired by the way the full-time missionaries at General Cepeda did that. People were constantly knocking at the door asking for food, for money for the doctor, for medicine, for rosaries, for prayer, for help with building a house. And each time they would patiently and lovingly respond to each request. It couldn’t be easy when you’re really tired already, or when you’re in the middle of something else, or when you’ve just sat down to eat. But it happened time and time again. They were really Jesus to these people. And people saw their love, and they knew that they could trust and believe their message of God’s love.

Bringing Jesus to the Brokenhearted

2010-08-18T06:40:00.007+08:00

Another small incident where I saw God using me, guiding my thoughts and words was one evening at a rancho. Every evening thirteen of us would all pile into the mission van and drive to the ranchos outside the town. We divided into two teams and covered two ranchos every day.

First we would ring the chapel bell, and then go to each house and invite each person to the chapel for prayer. “Somos misioneras Católicas. Les invitamos a la capilla por la oración.” Then we’d go back, ring the bell some more (I really enjoyed the one time I got to ring the bell) and start the mini prayer meeting in the chapel.

Ringing the church bell- you can tell how excited I was :-)

Jonathan (who led our team) started them off with fun action songs in Spanish. Even though I couldn’t really sing any of them, I really enjoyed the tunes and doing the actions. Then a couple of us would share our testimony (some time where we saw God working in our lives), and then there’d be a short message. At the end we’d invite anyone who wanted prayer to come up in front and we’d pray over them.

At the chapel at one of the ranchos

So on one day we invited people to come up for prayer and a beautiful young mother came up. Her beauty really struck me in a sad kind of way. She had three little children, and one of them clung to her skirt as she stood before us. So Neil asked her what she wanted prayer for, and she said that she was tired. She just looked so sad. So we prayed for her, and as we were ending, I felt like I should tell her Matthew 11:28-30

‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’

As Neil translated, she just looked at him with this look of mute entreaty in her eyes. Then Theresa told her that whenever she felt depressed to read her favourite Scripture and call on Jesus to help her. She just stood there, looking at us. Tears filled her eyes. We had kind of finished praying, but she just stood there. So we started praying again. Then we hugged her and finally she left.

I really felt that God was using us to speak her, and that she was hearing Him through us. Psalm 34: 18 says 'The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit.' What a privilege to bring Jesus to this heavy heart, to speak His words of love to this hurt soul.

Love Letters

2010-08-17T01:34:00.004+08:00

One morning Alyse, Rachel and I went to visit a blind lady who they visit often. Her brother lives next door to her, and he’s blind too. We arrived, greeted them, and Alyse talked to her for a while. Usually after some time of casual conversation, Alyse would ask each person we visited if they would like her to read them a passage from the Bible. They always joyfully agreed. But this lady beat her to it- after a little while, she asked her to read Psalm 23 to her.

It was beautiful to see her joy as Alyse read it. She said the words along with Alyse. It was obviously a Psalm that was really meaningful to her. When it was over, she asked for another Psalm. Alyse looked at us, and I suggested Psalm 139. I remembered that it was a Psalm that had been very meaningful to me one time when I was feeling alone and lost. So Alyse read it.

As she read, the lady was visibly touched. She started praising God as she listened to the words. ‘Gracias Dios!’ ‘Gloria Dios!’ As soon as it was over she told us that she loved it and would ask her husband to read it to her as soon as he came back.

Alyse had been reading it in Spanish, so it was not till we got home and I re-read it during my prayer time that I realized how beautifully God had used me. That Psalm was JUST right for someone who was blind.

O Lord, you have searched me and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from far away.
You search out my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
O Lord, you know it completely.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me...

If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light around me become night’,
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to you.

‘Even the darkness is not dark to you’... wow! I hadn’t even remembered that that verse was in this Psalm, but how perfect. God knew exactly what she needed to hear, and gave me the right words for her. As someone put it, I was the envelope in which He sent her His love letter.

Helping God Bake Cookies

2010-08-16T11:53:00.004+08:00

At the beginning of the trip I remember thinking how useless I was. I couldn’t speak a word of Spanish (well, except for stuff like ‘no hablo español’ which doesn’t count), and people who know me know that I’m not much good with physical activity. Yes, I need to exercise, and build up my stamina so I can be a good missionary, as my parents kept reminding me. So I was pretty unsure about how I could be of any service to anyone during this mission trip. I had plenty of opportunities to grow in humility, as I realized how inadequate I was. Like the one day that I volunteered to help with the house building. My only job was to mix mud with a shovel. Sounds pretty easy, you think? Huh.

The adobe wall that I (didn't) help build

As we stood under the hot sun, I would stick a shovel into the mud. And then pull. And pull. And then give up on the idea of actually lifting the shovel, and just try to turn it over without lifting it off the ground. It was terrible. I was horrible. I felt like I would have been as effective with a teaspoon instead of a shovel. I watched one of our team, Rachel, as she energetically stuck her shovel in, lifted and turned... splat! I couldn’t even lift the shovel... empty!... without a strong effort. So yeah, I wasn’t much use there.

Rachel, our champion mud-mixer

Then on the house visits I would start off well with a ‘Buenos dias!’ and then subside to complete silence as one of our Spanish-speaking missionaries and the Mexican people would animatedly discuss life. I did manage to get a parting sentence in as we left- ‘Dios te bendiga!’ God bless you. I found myself lagging in enthusiasm and effort.

Of what use was I? What could I offer? It was more than a question for just this week, it was a question for my missionary life. I’ve never lived on my own, looked after myself, how could I look after other people? In my own country I’m handicapped by my lack of Hindi and Marathi, how would I serve in a Spanish-speaking language?

Well, it was fairly early in the mission trip that Jesus answered my question. As I was praying, I read that day’s Mass reading (something God has often used to speak to me). It was from 2 Corinthians.

The point is this: the one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each of you must give as you have made up your mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver... And God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work. He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.
2 Cor 9: 6-8, 10

I didn’t have enough. But I had something, and I needed to give what I had cheerfully and willingly. And God would give the rest. I could see it happening. Victoria, another member of the team, inspired me. She didn’t know a lot of Spanish, but boy, she tried. As we walked in the sun to the homes, she would greet every person we passed with a loud and cheerful ‘Hola!” and a wave. She always found something to say at each person’s home, and if she couldn’t say it herself, she’d ask someone to translate. And by the end of the trip, her Spanish had improved dramatically, and everyone we met knew and loved Victoria. She shared an unplanned and personal testimony at a rancho, which blessed all those who heard it. As Breanne put it, her testimony ‘rocked that chapel’. Well, the Holy Spirit did, anyway.

He multiplied her efforts. He used her willingness. That’s all He asks. Well, I received His word, and tried to live it. It was far from my best efforts, but it was something. And God used me.

In my next post, I’ll write about some of the ways He used me. Or at least the ways that I actually saw. There may be so many other fruit that I’ll only know on the other side of heaven. It’s like one of the missionaries put it at morning prayer- We’re like little kids helping their mom bake cookies. She could do it perfectly well on her own, and it’s a lot more trouble for her when she allows the kids to help. But she allows her kids to participate, for their sake, not for hers. And she supplements their efforts. That’s God’s beautiful plan for humankind. He’s allowing us to participate in His mission. It isn’t my talent, or Spanish-speaking ability, or skills that make me a good missionary. It’s just me allowing God to use me, like an artist wrapping His hand around mine to make a beautiful picture.

Beautiful Precious Souls

2010-08-15T14:15:00.005+08:00

At the beginning of the mission trip I was not feeling at all like a missionary. I did not FEEL like doing good works, I did not at all feel attracted to the Mexican people. I was a little happy to be in a new country, but that was it. There was no love or zeal burning in my heart.

On Monday morning, our group split up into two teams. One was going to help build a wall for a Mexican lady’s house, and the other team was to visit the homebound. I was on the home visits team, probably because I am the physically weakest person from the group, and maybe they thought climbing over my lifeless body might slow things down a little. (Updated: I did one morning of house building. Please don't ask.)

So Alyse Spiehler, the youngest but most experienced missionary from the group introduced us to home visits. “I LOVE home visits” she said “because I get to meet some of God’s favourite people. They are living saints. Some of them may be hard to look at because they may be crippled, or may be their house smells, but that shouldn’t stop us from loving them.”

We grabbed the ‘dispensas’ that we were taking them- bags of basic food supplies like flour, rice, lard, coffee, etc. and took off. As we walked down the streets of General Cepeda, Alyse, Theresa and Erika talked about some of the people we were going to meet. “That lady is the cutest little old thing!” “She is such a darling.” “I just love Doña Maria Elena!”

I couldn’t feel the same. I knew that I should go to these people and take them supplies and listen to them and pray with them because it was my duty to ‘love your neighbour’, but I felt no desire to love them. All I saw were wrinkled lined old faces, bent bodies- pitiful, but not lovable.

What was wrong with me? My feelings were influenced by a world that has no value for the old, the poor, the weak. In almost every movie that I watch, the protagonists are young, healthy, attractive. In the news are the rich, the powerful, the beautiful. In the eyes of the world, the little ones don’t exist. They exist in most people’s lives only as liabilities, as burdens. In the lives of most young people, the only people who exist are the one who are useful to us in some way. In India, we hear of many families kicking their own aging parents out of their homes.

And I could see this ugly attitude in myself. An attitude that only values the external. Or only values people who are of use to me.

But then the first morning we walked into the house of one little old lady who lives completely alone. Alyse talked to her, my Spanish limited me to ‘Buenas días!’ I observed as she talked to us, her animated face and ‘Gracias dios!’ We gave her a dispensa, read her some bible verses and prayed with her. As we prayed, I suddenly got a glimpse of a reality beyond the one we create for ourselves, and truer- here was an old lady we were talking to for a short while. We would leave, but Jesus would not. This soul was precious to Him. He would walk with her, talk to her, mourn with her, comfort her, and send her missionaries with food and prayer every now and again. This precious soul is the reason for missionaries to exist.

Jesus blessed me by opening my eyes to see the beauty of each person we served. I saw them through His eyes. I saw that beauty again and again. In another old lady at a rancho who came up to us for prayer, her face splitting into a wide smile, as she hugged each of us. In the joy of each lined face as they welcomed us, in the tears of the eyes of one tired young mother, in the innocence of the babies, in the big grins of the little children, in the hospitality of the Mexican family (who are FMC missionaries) who fed our team even though they have eight children of their own.

I have seen some beautiful sights here in Mexico. But none so beautiful as God's precious souls.

Updated... Finally!

2010-08-15T03:08:00.005+08:00

Dear readers, I'm really sorry for not updating my blog for so long. At first it seemed like there was nothing happening worth writing about, and then there were SO many things that I didn't have time to focus and put together a post.

But we just completed a short-term mission trip here in Mexico, and have a day before we leave for the States, so it's blog time!

I am going to write several posts about my experiences here and what God has been teaching me in the course of the past week, but here's a little background of the mission here in Mexico.

FMC has had a mission base here in the little town of General Cepeda for many years. The mission house or Casa de Misiones is simple, but spacious. It is basically a courtyard surrounded by rooms. Catherine (my room mate for the past few weeks and a sister of one of the FMC missionaries) tried to describe it to me, but it's hard to get an idea till you are here. It is often used as a place where Catholic groups from the States come and live for short-term mission trips.

General Cepeda is a quiet place, SO beautiful, with it's narrow paved streets, lines of connected houses (just a wall between each house) around a park, with the little church just on the other side of the park. There are usually full time missionaries living at the house here, helping the poor, working with the parish, evangelizing at the ranchos and being available to the people.

It is a very different kind of experience from what mission work in India would be, largely because most of the population are at least nominally Catholic. But it has given me an idea of how a missionary lives, daily pouring themselves out for the love of God and His people.

So here are some stories and pictures of the past week.

The Big Adventure

2010-07-27T04:40:00.003+08:00

Now and again I'm just going to use an old post that I've written about missions or my faith... like today. This is one that I wrote in February 2008. Crazy, huh? I didn't realize then that God's plan had me waiting for another two and a half years before I left on my missionary life. I guess we'll only know the whys and wherefores on the other side of heaven.

It's time for the big adventure- leaving the security of my comfortable well-paying job, rejecting the normalcy of a teaching job and the nobility of working with an NGO... and going into the unknown mostly unaccepted world of doing God's work. I don't know how exactly God will use me, but I feel the irresistable call to mission work. Teaching is good, teaching poor kids is better, but I choose the best- bringing God's love to anyone who wants it. I know it won't be easy, for so many reasons, but that isn't the point. I KNOW that life at the centre of God's will isn't the same place as my comfort zone. I just pray that the same Jesus who calls me will give me the grace I need to live my calling.

The Second Reading yesterday said:
... Join with me in suffering for the gospel, relying on the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works but according to his own purpose and grace.
2 Timothy 1: 8-9

Yesterday I got a small taste of a missionary's life. I visited two of the girls in my cell group in their homes- in the Ramtekdi slums. Poor homes, but they welcomed the prayer that I brought. And they asked me to come to their paralyzed uncle's house to pray with him too. They spoke Konkani I think, and I don't know whether I was talking Hindi or Marathi , but I managed to communicate and bring goodwill and a blessing. Such a small thing I did, but it wasn't so easy.

Let's see how God's plan unfolds in the next few months. I am trying to be open His will, wherever He takes me.

Mexico Mission Trip

2010-07-23T01:01:00.003+08:00

I'm really excited because I am most probably joining a small mission trip to Mexico in August with some FMC missionaries and a few others. It will be my first official short term mission trip.

I was a little worried about whether I would be able to get in and out of Mexico as easily as the other missionaries (all of whom are Americans) with my Indian passport and religious visa.

So I went to the Great All Knowing One- the Internet. I needed to make sure that my visa was a multiple entry visa. I had heard that it was, but I had never seen it clearly written anywhere. I didn't want to leave the country and then be stopped on my way in, and denied entry back in... Aaah. Worst nightmare? I could see myself a lonely figure forlornly waving goodbye to the others as they drove off... yes, I watch too many movies. After a lot of clicking and websites that led nowhere, I finally figured that it was written on my visa! Entries: with a little number or an 'M'... did it have it? Sarah Kate pulled out my massive file to take a look at the copy.. yes it did! Entries:M

Next I needed to check whether Mexico was as happy to welcome Indians in as they were Americans. You don't need a visa to enter Mexico if you're an American. Welcome in, beloved gringos, and spend all your money here. Now Indians on the other other hand... I went from the websites of the Indian embassy in Mexico to the Mexican embassy in India, from Yahoo answers to WikiAnswers... and finally the Great All Knowing One spat out the answer:

As of the 1st of May 2010, holders of valid visa of the United States of America (any nationality) shall not require visa to enter Mexico with tourist, transit and business purposes only.

Woo hoo! Mexico, here I come.

Some of the things I am waiting to see are whether Mexico is in any way similar to India, I don't know why, but I get the feeling it may be close to Goa. To see if the poverty is different, whether it will affect me differently from the poverty in India. To see how different the needs are. Also, to see missionaries in action. So far I have only heard about it, I have never really seen it. Even when FMC missionaries were in India, I was working, so I didn't get to join them on their street and slum ministry. In a way, maybe to glimpse my future- I may be working in Mexico next year, after my training.

One of the funny things that happens here at Big Woods is that Mr. Frank and Ms. Genie kept breaking into Spanish whenever they talked to me. Lol! it was because we had a Spanish priest with us, to whom they had to keep speaking in Spanish, because he was still working on his English. Also, because of my brown skin. So something that may happen in Mexico is people assuming I'm Mexican... and perhaps trying to hold conversations in Spanish with me.

To deal with that eventuality, I have prepared myself:

"No entiendo!"

"No hablo español!"

"Sólo hablo Inglés!"

"Soy de la India"

I'm all set!

Come... That You May Go

2010-07-18T08:25:00.007+08:00

Last week was a hard week for me. I joined the staff of Faith Camp, a week long camp run for 140 11 to 14 year old kids. Faith Camp is an amazing work of God- it has been a place where many young people have experienced Christ and His family for the first time. It includes fun, fellowship, food, service, and obviously, faith.

We had crazy fort wars where kids pelted each other with water balloons, wet oatmeal and paint, we had carnival night with games and rides, and rock climbing walls, and face painting, and live music, we had relay races, we had swim day, café night, where all the staff dressed up.. the theme was New Orleans. We had moms in the kitchen, cooking up awesome food... it was by far the best food I have had at a camp. We had Mass, confessions, talks by great speakers like Kevin Granger, Sarah Baquet, Colin MacIver and others. We had a praise and worship night (referred to as 'crying night' by experienced campers..lol) where the kids just opened themselves to the love and healing of God. We had great praise songs and music all the time.

So... you may say that none of that sounds really hard. Well, for me it was... I was a stranger in a strange land. I was surrounded by people I didn't know, most of who were waay younger than me (some of the main coordinators were 5 years younger than I) The FMC missionaries who i had been staying with weren't there- they were all on mission trips. I felt out of place, I missed knowing everybody the way I did at camps back home. I missed being known as the crazy Susanna who could always be relied on for a laugh. I missed being big-sister Suzy who my YA girls and guys would come to for advice. I missed being at the center of my comfort zone. Here I was just the quiet Indian girl who nobody really knew.

I know that in my place many people would have just gone out there and made friends. I know my brother Bruce would have thrived on a situation like that. He loves new people, new challenges, new stuff to do and see and be part of... me, not so much. It is just so much harder for me to initiate conversations and friendships. I guess it's the residue of old insecurities. Anyway, I did try, and I did talk to some of the campers and a few of the staff. But most of the time I just felt lost and alone. Everyone knew each other so well, and got along so easily. They had so much in common, and most of them were so uninhibited... very different from most Indian youth.

For the first time in my life, I had no one and nothing to lean on... Except the Lord. I had no friends, no family, no books to lose myself in, no movies, no bed or room to retreat to... we weren't supposed to hang out at the cabins where we slept at night.

Where did that leave me? In the arms of my Jesus. This past week Jesus has really been for me a Refuge and a Hiding Place. We had a little chapel with the Blessed Sacrament. What a joy it was to go there and just be with the One who loves me, and has always loved me. It is so easy for me to ignore Him when I have friends and family and books around. It was only now that I realized just how much I needed Him.

On Thursday afternoon we all went for Mass and confessions to a church in Abbeville. For a while we just sat there with the Blessed Sacrament exposed. I sat there praying.
Me: Lord, I just want to be with You. But why is it me always talking with You silent? Why can't I hear you too? It feels like a one-sided conversation. Oh wait, that's the point of the Bible- that's You talking to me. Umm... what did Jesus say in the Gospels?

I racked my brain, and then this verse popped into my mind- ‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’

I thought about that for a while. What did it mean for me to 'come'? He was just waiting there, arms open... all I needed was to turn to Him.. and come. Before I could be a missionary, or get married or have children, I needed to learn and believe deep in my heart that He was really all I needed. I couldn't just think.. "Wow... God is love." I needed to live my life wrapped and enfolded in that beautiful satisfying love. I needed the humility to turn to Him, and not think that I could figure it all out myself with my intelligence or humour, or talent, or knowledge of Catholic doctrine, or friends, or popularity. Until I learned to COME to Him, I would never be able to GO and preach the Gospel as a missionary.

Then Mass started. I had not read that day's readings, which I normally do. I day dreamed my way though the first readings, then said "Lord, help me to focus on the Gospel!"

Guess what it was? Yup. Matthew 11: 28-30. The same verses I had thought of. Or rather that the Holy Spirit had whispered to me. I was wowed.

But wait... my Lover figured I needed to hear it one more time. That night, we had cabin time, which is basically small group sharing. Nicole, the beautiful woman of God who was leading our small group had written each of us a verse from the Song of Songs as a way to honour us.

When it was my turn she said "Susanna, I chose this verse for you because you shared with us about how you come to be with Jesus in the chapel, it's just so beautiful that you just COME to Him..."

And these were the words written on the paper she gave me-
My beloved speaks and says to me: "Arise, my love, my fair one, and COME!"
Song of Songs 2:10

With that capital lettered COME, I just knew that God had used the pain of this week for a reason. He knew that I needed that extra push to jump into His arms. And I did.

Why Be a Missionary?

2010-07-08T23:46:00.002+08:00

This is the kind of post that I am going do in parts... many parts. (However I am not going to name this part 1... just in case I don't get down to doing follow up posts any time soon)

Why be a missionary? This is a very valid question to most people. I asked it myself. Various family members did. And there are many answers (hence, many posts).

Today I'm going to confine myself to one basic reason based on the Gospel reading of a couple of days ago.

Then Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and curing every disease and every sickness. ³⁶When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. ³⁷Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few; ³⁸therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest.’
Matt 9: 35- 37

He had compassion for them. He saw how lost, how helpless, how harassed the people were. We see how people suffer, and we want to help. Missionaries go out to offer truth and to offer love. Our only motivation should be LOVE. We want the best for our brothers and sisters, and that is why we evangelize. Any evangelization that comes from any other motive is pointless and ineffective.

We force nothing, we impose nothing. We offer the One whom we have been given- Christ- and people are free to accept or reject Him. And from what I have seen and heard and read, anyone who is genuinely searching, whose hearts are open, receive and rejoice in the Good News that we bring.

So if I go out as a missionary, and do not sincerely love and want the best for the people I go to, then I am no missionary. The only valid reason for missionary work is LOVE. And if I do sincerely love people, then I want to give them the best that I have- the joy and freedom that comes from life in Jesus.

Being Family

2010-07-05T00:04:00.003+08:00

I entered a new country, a new organization, a new home, without knowing any of the people I would be with. I had met a few of them briefly, but that was all. Before I came, people were worried about me.

"Where will you live? Do you know these people? Who will you live with? Aren't you scared? How will you get around if you can't drive?"

I didn't really know the answers, but I wasn't really scared either.

And now that I'm here I am just really amazed at God's beautiful plan of family. I, a stranger, was welcomed a family- I was not a foreigner, I was a sister in Christ. I have been well cared for, I have been driven around, I have been accepted as a part of the family here. I know that isn't always easy- everyone has their own schedules, and things to do, and friendships that are already formed. But they made a point of making space for me, and making sure I was comfortable. We are different (in spite of how westernized we are at home) and yet, in the important things, we are the same.

A few days ago, some FMC members were recording a TV programme for the diocesan TV show at the community television studio. One of the things that they talked about was going to serve the poor in other countries.

"These are not just 'the poor' to us- these are brothers and sisters. If my sister called me and told me she was hungry, I wouldn't just send a cheque, I would rush over to her home and bring her food."

And that is the beauty of knowing that we are children of God. It means breaking down the barriers in our minds- 'those are Americans, those are Indians... those are the poor, those are the privileged" and seeing everyone the way God sees them- as His children, beloved and valuable.

This is one of the things I am learning here, as I make my first adjustment to a new culture (something missionaries need to do very often)- to see everyone as family, and to accept them and love them, and be one with them. It's not easy- it's a shift in perspective, a change in my selfish 'me' way of thinking.

Yesterday I was lying alone on my bed as some of the other girls were talking in the living room. One of my missionary sisters saw me, and came and sat down with me, and talked to me. It would have been as easy to stay with her old friends, the people she knows well and is comfortable with. But she chose to see me as family, and include me in the family.

And this is my challenge, and the challenge of every Christian- to live as family and to love as family, the way we were created to.