One year later...

I've been looking back through my pictures of the trip to Banda Aceh province on the island of Sumatra, Indonesia last March. Only days from now these people will mark a year since a surge of unfathomable proportions carved deep loss into their lives. I thought I'd share some of the meaningful pictures. Please let me know if you would like to see more or hear more about what I found when I went to help.









Look closely at the people.
They each had a story to tell.

The Hole and a Friend

The other day I was really lonely. It was a day like many others. I asked a friend if I could just be around her. She invited me in (she jumped in). While in her presence, we watched several episodes of THE WEST WING. In episode #32 Noël, Leo tells Josh the following story:

"This guy's walking down the street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out.

"A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, 'Hey you. Can you help me out?' The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on.

"Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, 'Father, I'm down in this hole can you help me out?' The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on.

"Then a friend walks by, 'Hey, Joe, it's me can you help me out?' And the friend jumps in the hole.

Our guy says, 'Are you stupid? Now we're both down here.' The friend says, 'Yeah, but I've been down here before and I know the way out.'"
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The priest, the doctor...well meaning prayers and fix-it solutions---been there done that. There are plenty of people willing to peek down at me out of interest, and throw something in from afar.

The friend in the story who jumped in...Wow! That's love. That's presence. I need that.

Have you been in the hole before? Do you know the way out? I'll trust you to help me find the way out. I trust that we could find the way out together. Open invitation to anyone who has found him/herself in a deep, dark place alone and gotten out by God's grace. I need you.

Taking a Risk to Love

I'm just going to put this out on the table. I think it is a really hard to risk loving. Hard because I don't like hurting at all. I mean it...I DON'T ENJOY PAIN IN MY HEART! Look at this quote I found recently. It is from written from the wise heart of C.S. Lewis. I know enough of his story to be certain that these words are from his heart--a heart that experienced pain and joy. A heart that risked to love.

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries, avoid all entanglements, lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all dangers and perturbations of love is Hell." The Four Loves

I've been thinking about getting another hamster for my classroom. I actually have had to talk myself through the death of that "future hamster" because I've had to see two previous ones die. I catch myself thinking, "Geez, it's just a hamster! Get a grip!" But the truth is, I can't get a grip on a heart that is beating with something eternal--love. Lewis is right...even caring for an animal is risky!

I've been really sad thinking about Melisa, my foster daughter of two years. She had another birthday last Saturday. The 10th one that passed without me being able to let her know that I really care. Ten years ago, she left my home and told me she didn't want me to contact her. That's a decade of broken heartedness. In fact, when she left, she took a part of my heart with her. Ouch. I'll get that piece of my heart back in heaven?

I am currently grieving the death of a friendship. My dear friend did not die. No, just the friendship. It is pretty fresh in my life. It has made me question whether anything that I found valuable about the experience of that friendship and what I found delightful about her as a person was even real. My heart, beating with the eternity of love, HAS to believe that it was all real.

I can't get a grip on my heart and make it stop loving. Make it stop risking. And that is a good thing.