And So, It Begins...

As I have tried to transcribe and document in this space, both for my readers as much as for my own self introspection, these past few months have been, needless to say, transformative. I came to Boston to prove a singular point, armed with little else save naked ambition and blind entitlement, which was simply that I, in fact, told you so. Beyond that very limited elementary bragging right, I had no real plan. I simply enjoyed savoring the "appearance" of conquering success on my trips back to California every three months, which conveniently also allowed me to feel unattached to anywhere and anyone. Particularly not to any lasting invested friendships or relationships, let alone some latch key kids from the ghetto. In Boston, I always had home to revert back to. At home, I always had somewhere East Coast I had to be. In short, I owed nothing to no one, and the dodging of commitment or responsibility was always just a plane flight away. The perfect crime.

As I have pontificated enough about, my eventual job loss led to a very serious upheaval in this world Ive created for myself these short 29 years. After some amusing kicking and screaming, Ive come to accept this new phase of meager means and constant uncertainty. It was obviously time to concede that I was not driving this bus, and for what its worth, I do feel as though Ive made certain headway in getting over myself, as it were. God willing.

Proof of this can be found in that currently I am in the process of giving up certain long time ... I hesitate to call them addictions technically. Metaphorically speaking, there are elements to my life that are exactly like my favorite pair of red patent leather Gucci heels: wild, loud, fun for a night of careless cavorting, usually leaving me bruised, blistered and in pain, and cost me and arm and a leg.
Lets just say I am slowly removing these "shoes" out of my collection of footwear. (Except for any ACTUAL shoes... because thats just absurd.)

Recently I got the memo that God is asking me to give up much more than some sassy high heels. A new friend I met through the Quincy Street Youth Center named Leah, who is the one responsible for facilitating my new role as a mentor and a tutor, brazenly asked me, rather randomly the other week, if I would like to go to Haiti... for a month... on a mission trip.

Honestly, I really just stared at her for awhile. I didnt want to reveal that I actually have no idea where Haiti even is on a map, and that my knowledge of that country is limited to the fact that I think Wycleff Jean might be Haitian, and that essentially any cop show or movie that features Haitians (Bad Boys 2 - Holla!) paints them as a violent and lawless people. Beyond The Fugees and Will Smith movies, I know nothing of the country, and, if Im being truly honest, have lost my taste for the energy and occasional theatrics that accompany world travel. Delayed flights, cramped seats, lost luggage, bugs the size of my head... I could go on.

Strange that I would come to a place in life where I am starting to sound like a curmudgeonly old man refusing to leave his barca lounger. After all, before the age of 19, I had traveled overseas more times than most people will in their entire lifetime, paid for mostly by my after-school job slinging smoothies. I am both cursed and blessed with an incurable curiosity about the daily lives of people who, at its simplest, aren't me. Once, on a family trip to the Bahamas, I got so bored within the literal prison of the resort walls, that I got on a city bus and went exploring into parts of the island Im sure I was not welcomed. I did however learn that when the Bahama people get onto a bus, which was more like a little trolley car, they say hello to every single person in the seats, and every single person acknowledges the new arrival. I wish I had video of that bus ride, because each new person would stop when they got to me, sitting there waiving and repeating, terribly, the local pleasantries that were being dispensed. I wonder now if they thought I was lost, drunk, or ill. I probably have a hundred stories of me and my need for exploration of the unknown. Ive long maintained, how can you know who you are, until you find out who you aren't?

Maybe I should have been an anthropologist.

"A man's steps are of the Lord; how then can a man understand his own way?"
Proverbs 20:24

Not to belabor this point, but essentially -

God Said Go. So I am going.

July 5th - August 9th to Passe Cataboise, and I am scared to death but excited to do something and be a part of something larger and more important than myself. Haiti is the poorest, most disease-stricken and famine-ridden country in the Western Hemisphere. I have seen poverty in my time, but Im not so sure Ive really seen suffering. I dont know that I could recognize the face of misery if I saw it, but Im willing to bet that this will be unimaginable. Im not sure what God wants from me in this, nor how he intends to use me while I live in a concrete barrack in 120 degree weather, probably subsisting on avocados. I hope most of you are smirking in delight at the thought of this formerly - add your own impression of me here - girl sweating it out sans all creature comforts and/ or available snacks.

I look forward to choking on my own words.

I ask you to pray:

Pray for our safety and health.
Pray that we raise the necessary funds to run a camp and feed the children who will attend.
Pray for Haiti and its broken people.
Pray for real transformation. For all of us.

"The gate is wide
The road is paved in moderation
The crowd is kind and quick to pull you in
Welcome to the middle ground
You're safe and sound and
Until now, it's where I've been

But I am willing to risk it all
I say your name
Just your name and I'm ready to jump
Even ready to fall
Why did I take this vow of compromise?
Why did I try to keep it all inside?

I've never known a fire that didn't begin with a flame
Every storm will start with just a drop of rain
But if you believe in me, that changes everything

'Cause it's been fear that ties me down to everything
But it's been love, your love, that cuts the strings
So long status quo
I think I just let go
You make me want to be brave
The way it always was
Is no longer good enough

You make me want to be Brave." - Nichole Nordeman