This blog´s name is "El Imagen del Rostro de Cristo," which translates to "The Image of the Face of Christ." I remember talking to a good friend of mine about the name of it, and telling this person that I was referencing the story when Veronica placed a cloth on Christ´s face. After she took the cloth off His face, an image of His face was present there, something that she probably looked at and venerated for the rest of her life and was recounted in the gospel that was written a time later. Looking back on the name, it seems to be a proper choice.
We have two weeks left here. Well, now a little less than two weeks. The new volunteers are almost finished with orientation, we are planning our despedida, and I am saying goodbye to my co-workers and my newly found friendships with my community and Ecuadorain neighbors. When I arrived here these days seemed so far away, but now that they are here, I am wondering where all the time seems to have gone.
As I prepare for my return to the United States, I look back on this year and realize the imprint of Christ´s face in my life. It is on my heart, for now I look at people and relationships with more care and joy than I did before. It is on my mind, for I now think about Christ in all of my actions and my words. It is on my spirit, for I now look at turmoil and suffering as part of something larger that I cannot understand, something that we are all working towards: the reign of God on this earth. We are all like Veronica, holding our lives in our hands and staring at Christ´s face right in front of us. It must be our choice to really look at it and venerate it, or just toss it to the ground and continue living.
After this year I hold on to this image of Christ that is indellibly marked in me forever: an image of a suffering Christ that knows the hope promised to Him from the foundation of the world, a image that is living and breathing through the life that I choose to live and make. It is an image that will forever be with me, and I will always live with it before me, greeting all those I meet in the imprint of Christ in my heart.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Numbered Days
It´s a month and 5 days away: what most current volunteers dread and say they want to miss . It´s only that far until the end of our time here.
I´m sitting in my worksite updating this, and as much as that number makes me nervous, I really don´t have a lot to worry about. I´m returning to a fully paid for graduate school education, a place to live, my family, friends, girlfriend, and a job. Returning to the States with all of this to fall into is a true blessing, one that a lot of the friends I´ve made here will never know.
Yet these friends are going to be the ones that get left behind, at least physically. I won´t be able to just pass by Monica´s house and hang out with her and Valeria, my goddaughter. I won´t be able to call up Luisana and see if I can pass by her house and hang out with Katy and Anthony. I won´t be able to go to mass in Parroquia Bautismo de Jesús every week, help play music and lead the youth ministry. I won´t be able to help out at the Oratorio Salesiano anymore and interact with the students I´ve learned to love. I will be returning to great things in the States, but I am going to be leaving a lot of great things, too.
What matters, though, is that these people who I´ve grown to love are going to be part of who I am. Their stories have now become part of my story, and I want to continue living them out in my life. So while our time together may be coming to an end, our time as friends and companions in this life is only just beginning. After this year I could start counting the days that I remember them in my life. It would probably last for a very long time, a lifetime, perhaps.
Writing about it makes me realize it could be a lot worse. I´m stuck between a flower patch and a soft place, looking forward to a future that is bound to be everything that I want it to be, but looking back at a past full of love in spite of challenges. Let´s hope that as the numbers decrease I can continue with this attitude.
I´m sitting in my worksite updating this, and as much as that number makes me nervous, I really don´t have a lot to worry about. I´m returning to a fully paid for graduate school education, a place to live, my family, friends, girlfriend, and a job. Returning to the States with all of this to fall into is a true blessing, one that a lot of the friends I´ve made here will never know.
Yet these friends are going to be the ones that get left behind, at least physically. I won´t be able to just pass by Monica´s house and hang out with her and Valeria, my goddaughter. I won´t be able to call up Luisana and see if I can pass by her house and hang out with Katy and Anthony. I won´t be able to go to mass in Parroquia Bautismo de Jesús every week, help play music and lead the youth ministry. I won´t be able to help out at the Oratorio Salesiano anymore and interact with the students I´ve learned to love. I will be returning to great things in the States, but I am going to be leaving a lot of great things, too.
What matters, though, is that these people who I´ve grown to love are going to be part of who I am. Their stories have now become part of my story, and I want to continue living them out in my life. So while our time together may be coming to an end, our time as friends and companions in this life is only just beginning. After this year I could start counting the days that I remember them in my life. It would probably last for a very long time, a lifetime, perhaps.
Writing about it makes me realize it could be a lot worse. I´m stuck between a flower patch and a soft place, looking forward to a future that is bound to be everything that I want it to be, but looking back at a past full of love in spite of challenges. Let´s hope that as the numbers decrease I can continue with this attitude.
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