This past weekend I found out my plan for next year: I am going to be a full time student working towards a Masters of Divinity at the Boston College School of Theology and Ministry. I am also still working on getting my things together for the peer ministry program there. It's all so close and yet so far; I feel like i'm standing inbetween the past and the future, and right now the future is beginning to overtake me.
Next year I'm going to be on a college campus in Boston, Massachussetts. If all goes well I will also be ministering to first year students and living on campus as well. I will be closer to Christine and be able to see her as much as possible. I will be reading and studying and doing all of these things I've taken a break from for the past year. I took a break from these things and have been living here in Mount Sinai, an invasion community in the city of Guayaquil, where there are little to no services (irregular trash pickup, no running wate, etc.), and our house is the biggest house in the entire sector. And now I'm anticipating having to make that transition back into an academic and social life that I haven't had for the past year.
It's crazy to be in between all of these things now. But I think, as I think about it more, I have a better chance of being ok in my head than I was with coming down here. And if I'm living between the past and the future, that must mean I'm living in the present, right? The future will come, and the past has already happened, but now is what I need to focus on. In all honesty, that is a difficult thing to do. But anticipating something takes a lot more energy than just sitting in the present and being happy with it.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
The Desert
2 and a half months. That´s the time that´s passed since I worked at my previous job in Bastion Popular. In those two and a half months I´ve had an incredible opportunity to begin to retool myself and make myself a better me, but it hasn´t come without its challenges. What it´s really taught me is that God really places people where God wants them to be at the exact moment in time that they need to be there, and I did need this desert, so that I could come out more focused on God´s will.
First things first, I had two wonderful oases inside of this desert. First was my visit from Christine, my girlfriend, that took place this past December. She only came for four days, but during those four days I realized how much closer we had become in our time apart. As soon as we hugged I knew something had changed between us, but it wasn´t a bad change, or a change to be afraid of. It was growth, a development of our love for each other for the five months we were apart. In those four days I realized the blessing she´s been in my life these past months, and this really pushed me to work on myself spiritually and emotionally so that I can be the best "me" I can be (more on that later).
The second oasis was the volunteer trip to Vilcabamba that we took the week following Christmas. It felt great to get out of Mount Sinai and just get lost in the scenery and the wilderness with a bunch of my good friends. We laughed, told stories and just enjoyed each others company. This really brought up my spirit and boosted my moral from sort of desolate. Being without a job does that to a person, and when we returned from our trip I was in the midst of entering a desert that would last for a while.
Towards the end of December, early January, we were greeted with a struggle over land. The land owner, Marcos Solis, and people like him were called "land traffickers" by the President of Ecuador, and when Solis fled the country, everyone came to take some of his land. People were moving in left and right. All of the comfort and knowing the neighbors in our neighborhood began to fade with all of these new faces and new people whom we didn´t know. On top of this, the government was beginning to knock down houses around our area because of "invaders" who took the land. So we were asked to house sit in our house to ensure that, if the government and military did in fact come, we could explain what a house like ours was doing here and present our land papers to them.
Because of my job loss, I was the one who did most of the house sitting by choice. My compañeros were out making plans and doing wonderful things around the community, and while house sitting preventing me from doing that, it also gave me time to reflect. I asked myself hard questions: Why was I here? What did I want my volunteer year to look like? Was it even worth it staying here? In my daze on the couch I found myself asking these questions and bringing myself closer and closer to starting again the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, until one day I just picked up the book and started.
In this action I began to understand what this time was going to mean for me. It meant a reconnection with Jesus, a time for me to realize my call from God more absolutely. And it truly has been. I´ve realized that in my past I thought a call from God meant that I needed to answer it alone by joining an order and becoming a priest or a monk. Now I realize how my call from God specifically asks me to be in relationship with others, my friends, family, and Christine. Because of Christine´s position in my life I´ve been reflecting mostly on our relationship together, and realizing that God´s call in my life requires that I make a decision either to follow it or to not, to choose my vocation and hold on to it or ignore it and believe that I have any control over my life. And yet, because I am willing to listen to God´s call in my humanity, despite its imperfections and misunderstandings, I know that what I want for myself is God´s will done in my life, and I know that my vocation involves another person there with me. In not as many words, the one I love who came to visit may be my vocation, and I am actively choosing that end for myself.
Because after the desert, Jesus began his public ministry and began to do God´s will in his life. He was thrown out of his own home town and questioned by the powerful and the rich, but the most important thing to Him was fulfilling the will of God in His life as well. In traveling with Christ I am able to see His life as full of the will to do what God wants of him, and in doing that, realizing that what He truly wants is the same that God wants. We do have free will, and we do have the power to take our lives into our own hands. We can do that with Christ or without Christ, and no matter what, we live with that decision. I don´t know how long I´ve been without Christ, and maybe the desert of the past 2 and a half months has lasted longer, but now I´m out on the other side and ready to begin living my life again inside of the Cross of Christ.
First things first, I had two wonderful oases inside of this desert. First was my visit from Christine, my girlfriend, that took place this past December. She only came for four days, but during those four days I realized how much closer we had become in our time apart. As soon as we hugged I knew something had changed between us, but it wasn´t a bad change, or a change to be afraid of. It was growth, a development of our love for each other for the five months we were apart. In those four days I realized the blessing she´s been in my life these past months, and this really pushed me to work on myself spiritually and emotionally so that I can be the best "me" I can be (more on that later).
The second oasis was the volunteer trip to Vilcabamba that we took the week following Christmas. It felt great to get out of Mount Sinai and just get lost in the scenery and the wilderness with a bunch of my good friends. We laughed, told stories and just enjoyed each others company. This really brought up my spirit and boosted my moral from sort of desolate. Being without a job does that to a person, and when we returned from our trip I was in the midst of entering a desert that would last for a while.
Towards the end of December, early January, we were greeted with a struggle over land. The land owner, Marcos Solis, and people like him were called "land traffickers" by the President of Ecuador, and when Solis fled the country, everyone came to take some of his land. People were moving in left and right. All of the comfort and knowing the neighbors in our neighborhood began to fade with all of these new faces and new people whom we didn´t know. On top of this, the government was beginning to knock down houses around our area because of "invaders" who took the land. So we were asked to house sit in our house to ensure that, if the government and military did in fact come, we could explain what a house like ours was doing here and present our land papers to them.
Because of my job loss, I was the one who did most of the house sitting by choice. My compañeros were out making plans and doing wonderful things around the community, and while house sitting preventing me from doing that, it also gave me time to reflect. I asked myself hard questions: Why was I here? What did I want my volunteer year to look like? Was it even worth it staying here? In my daze on the couch I found myself asking these questions and bringing myself closer and closer to starting again the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, until one day I just picked up the book and started.
In this action I began to understand what this time was going to mean for me. It meant a reconnection with Jesus, a time for me to realize my call from God more absolutely. And it truly has been. I´ve realized that in my past I thought a call from God meant that I needed to answer it alone by joining an order and becoming a priest or a monk. Now I realize how my call from God specifically asks me to be in relationship with others, my friends, family, and Christine. Because of Christine´s position in my life I´ve been reflecting mostly on our relationship together, and realizing that God´s call in my life requires that I make a decision either to follow it or to not, to choose my vocation and hold on to it or ignore it and believe that I have any control over my life. And yet, because I am willing to listen to God´s call in my humanity, despite its imperfections and misunderstandings, I know that what I want for myself is God´s will done in my life, and I know that my vocation involves another person there with me. In not as many words, the one I love who came to visit may be my vocation, and I am actively choosing that end for myself.
Because after the desert, Jesus began his public ministry and began to do God´s will in his life. He was thrown out of his own home town and questioned by the powerful and the rich, but the most important thing to Him was fulfilling the will of God in His life as well. In traveling with Christ I am able to see His life as full of the will to do what God wants of him, and in doing that, realizing that what He truly wants is the same that God wants. We do have free will, and we do have the power to take our lives into our own hands. We can do that with Christ or without Christ, and no matter what, we live with that decision. I don´t know how long I´ve been without Christ, and maybe the desert of the past 2 and a half months has lasted longer, but now I´m out on the other side and ready to begin living my life again inside of the Cross of Christ.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Losing Weight
So, one of the weird, healthy (but unhealthy, sometimes) benifits of being here in Ecuador is losing weight. When I came down here I weighed about 225 pounds...now, after four months, I´m down to a slim (relatively so) 195. That´s the difference of about 30 pounds. The healthy schedule of weight loss is about 3 pounds per week per person, and so since i´ve been here for about 16 weeks, that actually isn´t that bad. And I feel a lot healthier, too: my food intake has been a mix of beans, rice, with the ocassional homemade pizza sneaking its way into my diet.
This is an unintended consequence of being here. My goal of being in Ecuador, nor did any of my thoughts go into, losing weight. It´s just an added consequence of being from the United States and loving to eat. I am able to eat like I do in the States because I have the option to choose the food that makes me heftier. Here, I don´t have that choice, which is an interesting reflection to think about. Living down here with people who eat this way everyday shows me that one can live on this little amount of food and still have not only a good life, but a very active and strong life as well.
And I see Ecuadorians doing manual labor everyday. They use the energy given to them by their food to good use. And when I ate, I would eat and sit, eat and sit, then walk around a little bit, then eat and sit some more. No wonder I ended up the way I did. No wonder there´s an obesity epidemic in our country. People have the option to eat and sit or eat and walk around and be active, and a lot of people eat and sit. I know very active people, so it´s not everyone. But the other reflection is that I´ve lost all this weight just by walking around my neighborhood, meeting people, allowing myself to experience the life of Ecuadorians daily by taking buses and actively choosing to walk places.
Of course, I don´t really want to loose more weight than this, although I probably will. And that´s not a bad thing, so long as I´m losing it doing this like I said above. Perhaps people in the States should just get out of their house and meet their neighbors, walk, and share in their lives. That sounds healthy to me.
This is an unintended consequence of being here. My goal of being in Ecuador, nor did any of my thoughts go into, losing weight. It´s just an added consequence of being from the United States and loving to eat. I am able to eat like I do in the States because I have the option to choose the food that makes me heftier. Here, I don´t have that choice, which is an interesting reflection to think about. Living down here with people who eat this way everyday shows me that one can live on this little amount of food and still have not only a good life, but a very active and strong life as well.
And I see Ecuadorians doing manual labor everyday. They use the energy given to them by their food to good use. And when I ate, I would eat and sit, eat and sit, then walk around a little bit, then eat and sit some more. No wonder I ended up the way I did. No wonder there´s an obesity epidemic in our country. People have the option to eat and sit or eat and walk around and be active, and a lot of people eat and sit. I know very active people, so it´s not everyone. But the other reflection is that I´ve lost all this weight just by walking around my neighborhood, meeting people, allowing myself to experience the life of Ecuadorians daily by taking buses and actively choosing to walk places.
Of course, I don´t really want to loose more weight than this, although I probably will. And that´s not a bad thing, so long as I´m losing it doing this like I said above. Perhaps people in the States should just get out of their house and meet their neighbors, walk, and share in their lives. That sounds healthy to me.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Me Encanta. Me Encanta todo Eso
"Me encanta. Me encanta todo eso." This means, "I love it. I love all of this."
As I sat in the Terminal Terrestre, I came to a realization over a double quarter pounder with cheese. I came to the terminal with an errand to run: I needed to buy pupitos for my guitar, which is necessary given the scope of my work. After this errand, I wandered the terminal and found the buses that went between provinces, so I jotted down some information. Finally, I stopped for a bite to eat.
In the terminal, there aren´t cane houses, heat from the sun, water barrels, the sound of roosters and water trucks, babies and families, sounds that I´ve grown accustomed to. Only the sounds of shuffling feet, private conversations, and the exchange of money. As I sat over my burger, I looked at the TV and saw "American Gladiators" flashing in front of one Ecuadorian man, alone, sipping a McDonald´s cup, seemingly mesmerized.
I suddenly became aware of what I was doing in the terminal and what everyone else was doing as well: I was being from the United States, or as we say in the US, being "American." I was eating a doube quarter pounder with Cheese, watching television, and sitting. I was consuming goods physically and monetarily, and it felt normal. My discomfort with this idea then lead me to buy a chocolate bar, a I ate half of it before I caught myself.
It seems that this is what being American is, and what we´re trained to do in the US is consume, sit, and allow the world to watch us. The show was translated so people could understand it, but I´ve never needed that. Everything is given to me in my language, and has been for 22 years.
People want to be American and as I walked from the McDonald´s with my chocolate bar, I realized that I was, too, because consuming, walking through a mall and being served is what we are trained to do. From a young age, "americans" are brought to places that have familiar advertising slogans or faces and we want to obtain them. We want to spend and spend because that´s the American way: consume, sit, and allow the world to watch us. We don´t watch the world and understand what we´re doing to them.
As I write this, I sit on a rickety bus. A woman sleeps in front of me as I travel back from this experience to the place I live, a farcry from where I was. I feel sorry for everyone who sees me and thinks that because I´m American I am the world that everyone watches on TV. The truth is I´ve stepped off that stage and joined the crowd. Yet that slogan still brings me back to a world that I once kne, that loves consuming, sitting, and allowing the world to watch by commanding it, a hypnotic and seductive phrase that will always make people want to be American:
"Me ecanta. Me encanta todo eso."
As I sat in the Terminal Terrestre, I came to a realization over a double quarter pounder with cheese. I came to the terminal with an errand to run: I needed to buy pupitos for my guitar, which is necessary given the scope of my work. After this errand, I wandered the terminal and found the buses that went between provinces, so I jotted down some information. Finally, I stopped for a bite to eat.
In the terminal, there aren´t cane houses, heat from the sun, water barrels, the sound of roosters and water trucks, babies and families, sounds that I´ve grown accustomed to. Only the sounds of shuffling feet, private conversations, and the exchange of money. As I sat over my burger, I looked at the TV and saw "American Gladiators" flashing in front of one Ecuadorian man, alone, sipping a McDonald´s cup, seemingly mesmerized.
I suddenly became aware of what I was doing in the terminal and what everyone else was doing as well: I was being from the United States, or as we say in the US, being "American." I was eating a doube quarter pounder with Cheese, watching television, and sitting. I was consuming goods physically and monetarily, and it felt normal. My discomfort with this idea then lead me to buy a chocolate bar, a I ate half of it before I caught myself.
It seems that this is what being American is, and what we´re trained to do in the US is consume, sit, and allow the world to watch us. The show was translated so people could understand it, but I´ve never needed that. Everything is given to me in my language, and has been for 22 years.
People want to be American and as I walked from the McDonald´s with my chocolate bar, I realized that I was, too, because consuming, walking through a mall and being served is what we are trained to do. From a young age, "americans" are brought to places that have familiar advertising slogans or faces and we want to obtain them. We want to spend and spend because that´s the American way: consume, sit, and allow the world to watch us. We don´t watch the world and understand what we´re doing to them.
As I write this, I sit on a rickety bus. A woman sleeps in front of me as I travel back from this experience to the place I live, a farcry from where I was. I feel sorry for everyone who sees me and thinks that because I´m American I am the world that everyone watches on TV. The truth is I´ve stepped off that stage and joined the crowd. Yet that slogan still brings me back to a world that I once kne, that loves consuming, sitting, and allowing the world to watch by commanding it, a hypnotic and seductive phrase that will always make people want to be American:
"Me ecanta. Me encanta todo eso."
Thursday, October 14, 2010
How to Feel in Light of Sacrafices
This is an interesting feeling.
I walked into the cyber late morning and checked my email. I read a few from someone I care about, one that engenders me to keep praying harder and harder. I looked on my facebook and saw pictures from an event I wish I could have been at...marking the second big thing in this person´s life I´ve missed out on by choice. I am missing a lot at home with shows and so many other things I could be doing there that it makes my eyes well up a little and my throat get tight.
Yet, I´m here, living with one paved road and people I don´t know. I have to pay for my internet usage and learn a new language. Every day I take a bus to a place that I am still learning to love, and when I come back home I´m too exhausted to think about all of these things. Now that I´m thinking about them it makes me wonder: How do I feel about what I´ve sacraficed? The sacrafice of comfort, the sacrafice of presence, the sacrafice of language, the sacrafice of all I´ve known for twenty-two years. And I´m here, writing on this blog about it, not knowing how to feel.
My heart breaks and soars when things bad and good happen among the one I hold dear and my friends. Today has been a rush of those emotions, and I can´t talk to anyone about it at the moment because I have trouble expressing myself in Spanish. No one around can talk to me either because I have trouble understanding it. It´s all some sort of emotional roller coaster because I´m apart from the only four other people around who can understand me.
Yet I need to be self sufficient and begin to start dealing with these things alone. I´m not going to be able to have people constantly around me all of my life, no matter how much I desire that. The reality of human life comes from the fact that we will all end up alone at some point in our lives, and I suppose at this moment, at this computer, I kind of feel like that. I miss being able to console my loved ones and cherish the joys that they feel on a daily basis. I miss giving them a call to hang out and shoot the breeze with me. And now I´m living with the choice I´ve made to go without that for the next year.
It´s been three months now and I think I´ve just begun to hit the point of this experience: through sacrafice comes discomfort. Through discomfort comes growth. Through growth comes destruction. Through destruction comes creation. I am constantly desmantled by God, and it looks like God´s doing it again. Slowly, but surely. And when I am desmantled, I hope to understand where God is taking me and what God is doing with me.
I walked into the cyber late morning and checked my email. I read a few from someone I care about, one that engenders me to keep praying harder and harder. I looked on my facebook and saw pictures from an event I wish I could have been at...marking the second big thing in this person´s life I´ve missed out on by choice. I am missing a lot at home with shows and so many other things I could be doing there that it makes my eyes well up a little and my throat get tight.
Yet, I´m here, living with one paved road and people I don´t know. I have to pay for my internet usage and learn a new language. Every day I take a bus to a place that I am still learning to love, and when I come back home I´m too exhausted to think about all of these things. Now that I´m thinking about them it makes me wonder: How do I feel about what I´ve sacraficed? The sacrafice of comfort, the sacrafice of presence, the sacrafice of language, the sacrafice of all I´ve known for twenty-two years. And I´m here, writing on this blog about it, not knowing how to feel.
My heart breaks and soars when things bad and good happen among the one I hold dear and my friends. Today has been a rush of those emotions, and I can´t talk to anyone about it at the moment because I have trouble expressing myself in Spanish. No one around can talk to me either because I have trouble understanding it. It´s all some sort of emotional roller coaster because I´m apart from the only four other people around who can understand me.
Yet I need to be self sufficient and begin to start dealing with these things alone. I´m not going to be able to have people constantly around me all of my life, no matter how much I desire that. The reality of human life comes from the fact that we will all end up alone at some point in our lives, and I suppose at this moment, at this computer, I kind of feel like that. I miss being able to console my loved ones and cherish the joys that they feel on a daily basis. I miss giving them a call to hang out and shoot the breeze with me. And now I´m living with the choice I´ve made to go without that for the next year.
It´s been three months now and I think I´ve just begun to hit the point of this experience: through sacrafice comes discomfort. Through discomfort comes growth. Through growth comes destruction. Through destruction comes creation. I am constantly desmantled by God, and it looks like God´s doing it again. Slowly, but surely. And when I am desmantled, I hope to understand where God is taking me and what God is doing with me.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Coups aren´t as scary as the history books say they are...
I don´t think as many people heard about this in the states, so for those of you who didn´t, here´s what has happened here in Ecuador. Last thursday, President Raphael Correa was giving a speech in Quito where he announced that he was going to reduce the salary of national police officers so he could help fund some other programs for the poor here in Ecuador. Heckled during his speech, Correa responded by saying, "if you and to kill me, than kill me!" and dramatically undid his tie and buttoned his shirt. As he was walking to his car, someone in the crowd threw tear gas, the president was placed into a gas mask, and taken by car to a hospital to treat an already existing injury to his leg. What nobody realized (apparently...although I don´t quite know how this happened) is that the drivers took him to the hospital for the National Police. So for the day, Correa was sequestered in the hospital, and the National police sequestered him there. That night, a group of Special Forces came into the hospital and freed Correa, bringing him back to the Presidential Palace safely.
There were protests and a few police riots in Guayaquil. In Quito, things were a lot worse, especially among the police. But this instance did some things to my community and me. We were not allowed to go to work friday and stayed mostly indoors saturday and sunday. We spent a whole lot of time together, and I keep thinking to myself how this is the first blessing in desguise out of the whole situation. Through so much unrest, people come together and show each other care and concern. We all were making light of the situation (we wanted to make coup-kies, and other foods that sounded like the word "coup"), but it drew us all together. I felt like I was part of the national consciousness, too: I was a little afriad, and I wanted a peaceful resolution to the situation, which happened yesterday.
The second blessing in disguise is realizing how much the political system here in Ecuador is not too much different than in the United States. It´s ok, scratch your head. Why would I say that? Well, what happened here was classic: those who had been making money and possessed power were having a little bit of their power taken away, which lead to protests and violence because of the power infringement by the president. I think of the situation in the US, and I see a group of people (mainly the TEA party), angry that they are being taxed too much, and therefore, protesting and using violence in their language to try and get that power back. It´s all an ebb and flow: Those who have power will keep power for a while, but when this power is infringed upon (which always happens, inevitably), those who have the power want to keep it, and fight to do so.
I suppose I need to listen to the words of Christ. "In the Kingdom of God, the last shall be first, and the first shall be last." I am priveledged in the world. I have a college education, a car, a house, and a future to think about with a beautiful girlfriend and the world at my finger tips. The people here in Monte Sinai have none of these things, only family, neighbors, and the work of their hands. A neighbor of mine was up all night last night, but can´t go to sleep because he has to keep his store open to make money. I will never have to go through that, but I want to try and begin to understand what that must be like.
We have a conversation ongoing in our house. Can we ever be live in the world of the poor as people from the US? I don´t think that´s possible, but by the simple act of trying to understand it, something is being done: a transferrance of stories so that I can return them to the world and give them the respect they deserve. The news will never report about these people, only those people who have a loud enough voice. Well, I have a loud enough voice, and I´m not afraid to use it.
There were protests and a few police riots in Guayaquil. In Quito, things were a lot worse, especially among the police. But this instance did some things to my community and me. We were not allowed to go to work friday and stayed mostly indoors saturday and sunday. We spent a whole lot of time together, and I keep thinking to myself how this is the first blessing in desguise out of the whole situation. Through so much unrest, people come together and show each other care and concern. We all were making light of the situation (we wanted to make coup-kies, and other foods that sounded like the word "coup"), but it drew us all together. I felt like I was part of the national consciousness, too: I was a little afriad, and I wanted a peaceful resolution to the situation, which happened yesterday.
The second blessing in disguise is realizing how much the political system here in Ecuador is not too much different than in the United States. It´s ok, scratch your head. Why would I say that? Well, what happened here was classic: those who had been making money and possessed power were having a little bit of their power taken away, which lead to protests and violence because of the power infringement by the president. I think of the situation in the US, and I see a group of people (mainly the TEA party), angry that they are being taxed too much, and therefore, protesting and using violence in their language to try and get that power back. It´s all an ebb and flow: Those who have power will keep power for a while, but when this power is infringed upon (which always happens, inevitably), those who have the power want to keep it, and fight to do so.
I suppose I need to listen to the words of Christ. "In the Kingdom of God, the last shall be first, and the first shall be last." I am priveledged in the world. I have a college education, a car, a house, and a future to think about with a beautiful girlfriend and the world at my finger tips. The people here in Monte Sinai have none of these things, only family, neighbors, and the work of their hands. A neighbor of mine was up all night last night, but can´t go to sleep because he has to keep his store open to make money. I will never have to go through that, but I want to try and begin to understand what that must be like.
We have a conversation ongoing in our house. Can we ever be live in the world of the poor as people from the US? I don´t think that´s possible, but by the simple act of trying to understand it, something is being done: a transferrance of stories so that I can return them to the world and give them the respect they deserve. The news will never report about these people, only those people who have a loud enough voice. Well, I have a loud enough voice, and I´m not afraid to use it.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Books, books, and more books
In Ecuador, there´s really not a whole lot do outside of work and neighborhood time. We have prayer every night, and we also have spirituality and community nights once every week, but other than that, there´s a lot of down time. We´ve been spending it in community a lot, but I´ve found myself getting wrapped up in books. Not just any books though: I find that I try to pick books that are from known writers or from titles that I´ve heard of in the past. Or writers that I´ve heard of from elsewhere. So far, I´ve read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer, Radical Compassion by Gary Smith, SJ, The Shack by William Young, and now I´m reading Sex God: The Endless Connection between Spirituality and Sexuality by Rob Bell, a pastor at an Evangelical church. Each book has given me interesting thoughts and feelings after I´ve finished them, and I marvel at the transferrance of ideas between people.
What might this be, you may ask? Well, I think it´s interesting that words can translate such meaning to people. The fact that I could read a book and have my own beliefs rocked a little bit, challenged, questioned, is interesting. What´s even more interesting is that it doesn´t have to happen with someone sitting directly in front of me. It happens through a piece of paper. Someone sat down, penned these words down, and they were published for everyone to see, read, and injest, so that they, too, can make this a part of their own beliefs and life. How fascinating is that?
Then I think, well, the difference between a book and a person is a lifeforce. I go over to neighbor´s houses, and no doubt some of them can´t read. No doubt some of them can´t look at words on a page and understand what they mean. But yet, whenever I speak with them it´s like the pages of an incredible story coming to life. It´s like a real life version of your favorite stories: A Tale of Two Cities? Look at the lives of people in Monte Sinai and the Puntilla. Death of a Salesman? Look at the thousands of fathers here, trying to make an honest and help their families succeed, but are stuck in their old ways, struggling in jobs that don´t make that much money, hoping that they can keep their jobs for another way. Every day I can talk to someone who experiences these stories first hand, in life.
So then, it seems, a lifeforce is found in the pages of each book. Through the simple fact that I crack the spine of a book I´m asking it to pour out the beliefs and leanings of its author. And yet, there are also those who don´t crack spines, but yet still pour their beliefs and leanings out to me, so that I may learn and injest these things into my own life. Which makes me wonder: is there anything that doesn´t bring life? Is there anything in the world that doesn´t somehow allow life to take place? Even in this place, where cane houses and dirt roads are common place, where every family is striving to better their lives for their children, hoping to make enough money to continue building a more sufficient living space, life can take place, and it takes place to the fullest.
In the end, I don´t know if this blog entry makes a lot of sense. Words, books, lifeforces, life. The transferrance of life. The way people live. Reading books brings life to all people because people´s lives are in the books, fiction or not. Talking to people here is like reading a book because people´s lives are in the stories they tell. Maybe everything in life leads people to life, even the tradgedies. Jeez, this makes me want to read a good book.
What might this be, you may ask? Well, I think it´s interesting that words can translate such meaning to people. The fact that I could read a book and have my own beliefs rocked a little bit, challenged, questioned, is interesting. What´s even more interesting is that it doesn´t have to happen with someone sitting directly in front of me. It happens through a piece of paper. Someone sat down, penned these words down, and they were published for everyone to see, read, and injest, so that they, too, can make this a part of their own beliefs and life. How fascinating is that?
Then I think, well, the difference between a book and a person is a lifeforce. I go over to neighbor´s houses, and no doubt some of them can´t read. No doubt some of them can´t look at words on a page and understand what they mean. But yet, whenever I speak with them it´s like the pages of an incredible story coming to life. It´s like a real life version of your favorite stories: A Tale of Two Cities? Look at the lives of people in Monte Sinai and the Puntilla. Death of a Salesman? Look at the thousands of fathers here, trying to make an honest and help their families succeed, but are stuck in their old ways, struggling in jobs that don´t make that much money, hoping that they can keep their jobs for another way. Every day I can talk to someone who experiences these stories first hand, in life.
So then, it seems, a lifeforce is found in the pages of each book. Through the simple fact that I crack the spine of a book I´m asking it to pour out the beliefs and leanings of its author. And yet, there are also those who don´t crack spines, but yet still pour their beliefs and leanings out to me, so that I may learn and injest these things into my own life. Which makes me wonder: is there anything that doesn´t bring life? Is there anything in the world that doesn´t somehow allow life to take place? Even in this place, where cane houses and dirt roads are common place, where every family is striving to better their lives for their children, hoping to make enough money to continue building a more sufficient living space, life can take place, and it takes place to the fullest.
In the end, I don´t know if this blog entry makes a lot of sense. Words, books, lifeforces, life. The transferrance of life. The way people live. Reading books brings life to all people because people´s lives are in the books, fiction or not. Talking to people here is like reading a book because people´s lives are in the stories they tell. Maybe everything in life leads people to life, even the tradgedies. Jeez, this makes me want to read a good book.
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