Hope and Peace

Hope

Snow.

Pure.

White.

Perfect.

Beautiful.

Miracle.

Isn't it amazing that snow is a particle of dust, surrounded by a droplet of frozen water?

As if peace froze around pain, something amiss in the world,

and then at just the right moment it dropped from heaven,

in the millions,

and the world is left with a blanket of peace.

On the ground, the rooftops, the trees.

Bringing little children joy to romp around in it.

It silences the whole world,

if only for a minute,
giving it hope

that wrong can be made right.

For a minute,

the whole world can forget that there are problems and hurt.

The whole world has hope.

so this is love

What is love? Pure, true love. What is it really?

There were once four girls who had moved to a new land for a while to learn about themselves and how they could better serve the Lord and others. They liked this new land, but as it drew nearer to Christmas, they found it harder and harder to be away from their loved ones. They wanted a Christmas tree so that it would at least feel like Christmases they were used to back home, but they were finding it difficult to scrape together enough money.

One afternoon in mid-December, when the girls were particularly feeling the lack of a Christmas tree, there was a knock at the door. The girls opened it to find four men, angels it would seem, bearing a Christmas tree and wishing them the merriest of Christmases. The girls were so ecstatic, and invited them in. Together they decorated the tree and spent the evening talking and laughing over coffee, popcorn and pie, and became friends. The four men left at the end of the evening with promises to visit again. The girls sat in their home beaming at their new tree that had been brought them by new friends that had shown them true love. A love they couldn't describe and would never forget.

Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you, he is Christ the Lord. -Luke 2:11

This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. We love because he first loved us. -1 John 4:9, 19

Fear Not

This world is not our home. As Christians, this world is not our home, something better awaits us. That, is comforting, that the best is yet to come. But I also feel a sense of, I guess abandonment as a youth ministry course would call it. Hesston, was not my home, the London Mennonite Center that I stayed at this weekend was not my home, Bradford is not my home, the place I was raised is no longer my home, and where I will go to next, will not be my home. When will I ever come HOME? I feel this strong sense of longing, for a place to call home. Not a place with matching furniture and walls and dishes. Not even necessarily a place where I sleep and eat. But a place that I can feel as if it truly is home, and not know that I will be leaving, or when.

Cliched phrases are rushing through my head as I write this, such as, "Home is where the heart is," "Home is where there is love." But my heart does not stay put. It flutters it's wings and hovers, daily. My heart is in music, in writing. My heart is in serving. I take it with me to school, and give children my heart as I try to teach them the all-too-confusing phonetics of the English language. I take my heart with me to choir and laugh and sing and praise God with the other women there. I take my heart with me when I see or talk to new friends we have met here in Bradford. There are times when I want to keep my heart with me for whatever I am doing here, but it won't stay. It hops the next ocean-liner and then plays leap-frog on cars and trucks all the way to Nebraska, and Kansas, and California, South Dakota and New York. Sometimes it hops a plane to Paraguay. So, I don't really know that home is where the heart is. Maybe it is. Maybe I have a jumping heart, so full, it can't spread love fast enough. Maybe God intends for my home to jump with my heart throughout my life. I want so badly to settle, on a farm in Kansas and have the same job for 30 odd years.

But maybe God is preparing me for something far different. Maybe He has a life planned for me that I'll have 10 different homes and 12 different jobs. It feels as if my strength is already waning, at the young age of 20. "I can't lead a life of moving, constantly jumping from place to place!" my soul screams. But even as I fear and doubt, I hear the still small voice of God say, "Fear not, I will be with you my child. Even as I am with you now, I will be with you." "Okay," my soul whispers back, "Ok. But only if you will go with me." "Fear not."

Appearances

Why do we care so much about appearances? The movie, Mona Lisa Smile, is about a forward-thinking art professor who gets hired to Wellesley Girls School, because she wants to make a difference. The movie shows the mould for young girls that existed in the 1950s in the United States, to be the perfect housewife. Even if life inside the perfectly painted house with matching door and window trim wasn't peachy, it was supposed to look like it to all outside eyes. They passed these values down to their children. Their children passed perfectionist characteristics on to their children. So here we are, grandchildren of perfect housewives of the 50s, caught up with perfectionistic tendencies, but living with a knowledge and in a society in which none of it really matters. But the facade is still there. We can try to tell ourselves that the things we do and the decisions we make have holistic reasons with a purpose behind them, but to a degree, whatever it may be, it's all about appearances.



So what I've discovered is that no matter how much I hate that it's always about appearances, and no matter how much I criticize others for caring so much about appearances, I like things to be ok, from the outside. I care about appearances. Even though, and especially when I don't want to.

Our table on a typical Friday when we've been painting our hall

thank you

Sorry, again, for not blogging for so long. Hopefully this will not be the start of every blog to follow. I've been trying to think of what to say to catch you up on my life for the last month without writing so much. For now I'll just tell you what I'm thinking, and any bits I forgot to tell you will fall in later.

I'm thinking right now, about the similarities between the Mennonite and Anglican church traditions. I actually noticed quite a few at the last service I was at. Some time ago at my home church we started a tradition of after the Gospel is read during the service, the pastor will say "The Word of God, for the people of God," and the congregation will respond with "Thanks be to God!" Thanks be to God was somewhere in the liturgy at St. Wilfrid's here in Bradford. I'm learning to appreciate more about the liturgical tradition, and I can't wait to keep learning about it. I did notice in one service, that it seems that the Anglican church emphasizes that Christ was born on earth, died for our sins and rose again, but not so much about His life and teachings. Maybe I'm wrong, but this is just what it seemed to me.

I'm also remembering quite a bit and noticing parallels between what I've learned in the classroom in the past and current situations. Books, movies, songs, sermons, conversations, will spark my memory to something from the past. So thank you Hugo Boschman, Bradley Kauffman, Ken Rogers, Marion Bontrager, Michele Hershberger, Lael Ewy, Kevin Wilder, Tony Brown, Todd Lehman, Karen LeVan, Dan Harrison, Rebecca Schloneger, Emily Yoder, Neal Friesen for all you taught me that has actually stuck with me. Also I apologize for any mispelling of your names. Reading Shane Claiborne, and Dorthy Day, and singing with a community choir, and being backround music for very appreciative art exhibition goers has reminded me of what I learned, and allowed me to glean even more from what I've learned in the past. It gives a feeling of accomplishment, and self worth.

So right now, I'm very thankful for my Hesston experience, and for the opportunity of this year. I'm reminded every day how hard it is to live with 3 other people in a small house, to keep long distance relationships, to acclimate into a new culture that even the language seems different in at times. But I really wouldn't want it any different. So at the risk of sounding cornier than I already have, thank you to everyone in my family, my home church, Hesston, SLCC, Radical Journey and the partners here in Bradford for giving me this opportunity. Thank you God, for the gifts and opportunities to use them you have blessed me with. Amen.

Hopefully future blogs will come to you less corny and more often (that could be a trade off, right?)

Blessings,
Rebecca

of homesickness and snickets, wonderful accents and biscuits

When I arrived in England, I said, I really need to blog. For the past three days, I've been saying, I really need to blog. But I haven't. Not that I don't want to tell you all how I'm doing and what I'm doing, but I'm busy doing! I'm trying to soak up my experience, but I'm missing writing about it in the midst of the experience. Also, every time I get onto the internet, I seem to email, or Facebook or Skype. These are great, and I have great conversations with people. But after every time I do talk with or email a lovely person back home, I am left with a feeling of sadness and realization that this is hard. I am homesick, and it is very hard for me to be away from those I love. Harder than I would like to admit. I would greatly appreciate prayer about this.

But don't think it's all bad, oh no. I'm living in England! This is a really wonderful place, and I am thoroughly enjoying myself. The economy seems to be better here than in the states. It seems much more can be bought for a pound than for a dollar. The accents, are wonderful to listen to! Occasionally I have to ask someone to repeat what they said, but for the most part it's like a fairy tale to hear an accent. People of Asian nationality and with an English accent are harder to understand, but it's still fine. There's also happy little words and phrases. A snicket, is a small path that connects more major streets or paths, that's wedged in between buildings, or next to a more forested area. Cookies are called biscuits, and are served with tea or coffee, which is served after most meals. Whenever we've been to someone's home for a meal, afterward there has always been an offer of tea or coffee or another refreshing drink, often served with biscuits. We've picked up the habit, and have been drinking quite a bit of tea in our flat.

Finally, the countryside, my favorite part thus far. Last Friday, Angie, a lady from the Methodist church, drove us to her house and then she, her husband and their border collie, Nellie, took us walking in the woods/countryside. It was fantastic! It was quiet, and there was fresh air and there was green! "Well of course," you're thinking, "what else would be in the countryside?" But you see, I truly am a farm girl, and I had not been out of the city since the middle of August. This was a great deprivation for me, and the walk on Friday was a great refreshment. Also, my dog is a border collie, and I miss her greatly, so it was great to have a frisky Nellie running about and fetching a stick all the while during the walk. It was a dreary day, and they served us a lunch of hearty homemade soup and homemade bread, which hit the spot. After soup, they served us cheese and crackers, fruit and yogurt. Once we had enough of that, they served us coffee and tea. It was a wonderful day that left us ready for naps and our year ahead. That is all for now, hopefully the next blog will come sooner rather than later.

Blessings,
Becca

No habla Espanol

I had a wonderful weekend of jazz music, Baptist worship and Mexican food, followed by a very unpredictable Labor Day holiday. All 18 RJers met Krista at Union Park sometime after 9:00 a.m. to discuss hospitality. So we did, and then we were to go be hospitable. Sounds easy enough eh? Or not. The default picture of hospitality in my mind is the warm loving care given out from the home of my Uncle Leroy and Aunt Donna. My Aunt Donna is the most hospitable person I know, and while I've hopefully learned a few things from her over the years. However, I was at a loss for how to be hospitable in a city I've only been in for a few weeks when I didn't have a home or means to cook a meal for anyone.





First, Naomi and I decided to learn more about this immigration march we had stumbled upon, and we figured we could look for ways to be hospitable there. We both agreed that what is currently happening surrounding immigration in this country is unfair and needs reform and so we though, why not? we have time to walk. Many people tried to give us fliers and sign petitions about a plethora of socio-political issues, whether they knew much about them or not. Much of the talks and chants before and during the march were in Spanish, and I had to keep asking Naomi what they were saying, what was going on. I felt out of place, like I didn't belong there, even though I knew I was welcome it was as if I wasn't at the same time. I imagine that's how people who don't speak much or any English feel most of the time here in the United States. It gave me an empathy for them. A glimpse of an understanding of what's behind the passion of marches. I don't understand because I've never been in that position, but it helped.





After marching and chanting the best that we could in Spanish, we diverged from the march when we were closer to downtown. We walked a block this way, and a block that way. Then we walked a few more blocks that way. We walked fairly aimlessly in search of hospitality opportunities and a bathroom. Finally we found a Walgreens that was open. After more wandering we found an El stop (elevated train) to get on and we were able to buy a pop from the machine for a young mother and her son who were already on the other side of the fence waiting for the train. Yay! Hospitality: check. However, we didn't feel very accomplished. We got off at a stop, and found a Pita Pit. It was 1:30 by this time and we were hot, tired and very hungry. As were were sitting there enjoying our freshly prepared pita meals and perusing over a paper, it occurred to me how much hospitality can be appreciated, and how well it is sometimes received. I was exhausted, more or less, and I hadn't had anything to eat or drink in a few hours. Even though I did pay a pretty penny for my pita, I was so grateful to the workers who had prepared it for me. This seemingly small act of hospitality was very meaningful to me at this point in time.





So after this unpredictable day lacking labor, I feel that I learned a fair amount about hospitality. I think that hospitality is something that you do, even though I didn't do much myself this particular day. I also think that hospitality is an outlook, a way of living, that encompasses more that just physical acts. Being shown hospitality taught me more than I ever could have thought. I learned that one never really knows how well their hospitality is received. Also, not showing hospitality can have much larger ramifications, that one would originally think. Even social and political ramifications on an international level.





-Becca

God's Blessing Towing

So this past week I realized something. This year is going to be hard. I realize that sounds like the most elementary and no-brainer statement, but it's true, and in a sense I did just realize it. Yes I knew before this year that it's going to be hard, but I just now realized how, and how that relates to me.

This week we looked more in depth at the Enneagram, a personality test that describes nine basic types of people. We also met with our teams and the staff to talk about how we're doing, what's going good, and what we're struggling with. Then it hit me. This is hard. Before Wednesday, things were pretty peachy. All 18 of the participants here get along quite well, which is impressive and good. None of the information or topics we were discussing were hard for me to think or talk about. But when we started talking about me, that's when it became difficult. It's hard to dissect the what-fors and why-nots of me. I don't want to, but I will be thankful after I do.

It's uncomfortable to be looked at and examined with a magnifying glass, to lay things out on the table and discuss them. There are good parts about my personality to look at and discover and there are very good things happening to me because of this program. But there are also things that are ugly and uncomfortable. Not, this meeting is getting long and I really have to use the bathroom uncomfortable, but migraine uncomfortable. A migraine that won't go away. An uncomfortable that stays, it won't go away for an extended period of time, possibly this whole year. I also realized that I've never been uncomfortable for any amount of time. I've been uncomfortable in situations which I can shortly thereafter be comfortable again.

So, I'm learning to be uncomfortable. One last nugget to leave you with: today on the street I saw a tow truck that said God's Blessing Towing. People don't usually see the need to be towed as a blessing, let alone from God Almighty! But the tow truck coming to pick you up, may be seen as a blessing. Either way, I found it an interesting name for a towing company. I would usually pair a name like that with a daycare or a women's shelter. I likened this to my own experience. Being uncomfortable isn't seen as a blessing right off the bat, but what I learn through being uncomfortable will be 10,000-fold blessings.

-Becca

first blog

Well hopefully this is the first of many messages you'll be reading from me! Hopefully I did everything right, and it looks how I want it to.

Explanation: My trip across the pond is my trip to do service in England this year! Yes, according to my Grandma Hofer, the Atlantic Ocean is just a pond. But I like it! I think it makes it seem much less far! So here is where I will be posting experiences, musings, pictures, and journalings during my time in Chicago (one month) and England! Also know that you are WELCOME to come visit me at any time during the year in England! I'll give you a place to stay! There's just one small catch, I won't pay for your plane ticket. Sorry to burst your bubble there. If it makes you feel better plane tickets are cheaper than you think. But it's ok, because I'll see you when I get back to the states.

So yesterday in church I was commissioned to go on this journey. It was a really meaningful time. It feels "official" now. My family was all there and it think it helped all of us to prepare to be separated for 10 months. I really do feel connected to my church, and supported by them, and actually ready to depart, believe it or not. Now to pack... Below is what I said to my congregation as a precursor or parting words of sorts.

“Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always to the very end of the age.’” Matthew 28:18-20. I’m spending this next year in Bradford, England doing service with Radical Journey through Mennonite Mission Network. I’m so excited for what God has planned for this next year, but I’m also scared out of my mind to leave the comfortable Midwest. But the last part this passage comforts me, and reminds me daily, that even though I may go farther from home than I ever imagined, Jesus is always with me. I can honestly say that I have a passion for service. I’ve always loved helping, since I was little, in the kitchen, in the garden, whereever. Ever since my first service trip with the youth group in high school, I’ve latched onto every service opportunity available. I was a student manager for VB in high school, and I loved every minute. I just can’t get enough of doing service. Since about my junior year of high school, I’ve felt God’s nudging to do service about this time. God kept opening windows and doors and pointing and speaking, and here I am, ready to embark on a year to do God’s work.
A week from today, I will fly to Chicago for a month of orientation doing team building activities and volunteer work in the city with 17 other RJ participants who will be located in Paraguay, South Africa, Australia and England. On September 20, each of the four teams will travel to their respective locations, provided each person has proper funds, and that everyone’s visas have been approved. Please pray that God will provide adequate funds for each participant, and that the visa process goes smoothly for everyone so that each team is able to leave in due time. I’ll be living in an apartment with the rest of team England: Devon, Tiana and Rachel. We anticipate a year filled with volunteering, relationship building, and finding more about God’s plan for our lives. We’ll be volunteering in an elementary school that has mostly Pakistani and Indian children attending, working with the local Methodist youth group, helping with an African women’s club, and there is also hope to start an after school program that primarily our team would be in charge of. On July 12 of next year, all four teams will reunite in Chicago for a week of fellowship and storytelling about what God did in our lives over the past 10 months. The final month each participant will spend in his/her home church applying what they learned while away. I am certainly looking forward to sharing and working in the congregation that has given and taught me so much growing up. Your prayers and financial support is greatly appreciated. During this next year, an advocacy team will be closely working with me to mentor me, keep track of finances, prayer requests and keep me connected with you all here at Bethesda. Those individuals are: Linda Goertzen, Pastor Andrea, Thayne Sparke, Berdine Buller, and Deb Mierau. If you’d like more specific information about what I’m doing or how you could pray, feel free to ask any one of these people throughout the year. As we look ahead together at this next year, I ask for continued prayer for visas, funding, health, the ability to accept the unexpected, and willingness to carry out God’s will. I’ll close with Romans 15:30-33 “I urge you, brothers, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by the love of the Spirit, to join me in my struggle by praying to God for me. Pray that I may be rescued from the unbelievers in Judea and that my service in Jerusalem may be acceptable to the saints there, so that by God’s will I may come to you with joy and together with you be refreshed. The God of peace be with you all. Amen.”