The Giver

A somewhat heavier post about working in the foster care system...

Whenever my job comes up in conversation someone inevitably responds with: "that must be tough." The phrase doesn't usually sit well with me. Sure, there have been some really rough days here and there, but in my four and a half years of working in the child welfare system I have never really felt that it has taken a great toll on me emotionally. I get to see a lot of things. It is really beautiful to see people sacrificing of themselves to care for other people's children. I get to see people giving back. I get to attend adoption hearings. The abuse and neglect? Well it is what it is. Sometimes I hear the details of it, but I never really dwelt on any of that stuff. There are so many other things for me to think about, things necessary in order to do to accomplish my job responsibilities. I keep moving. I think most of us keep moving. It is an action-oriented, solution-focused kind of job. "The job", meaning the position I held up until two months ago. I've recently transitioned into a different role within the agency known as the Placement Coordinator. Things are looking, well, pretty different from this new vantage point. Pretty really different. I've been thinking a lot lately about the novel, The Giver. Many of us public school system prodigies read the book circa sixth grade. Such a good, quick read. The Giver is about a futuristic dystopia (much like books A Brave New World and 1984) in which everything in society has been completely regimented and organized to the extreme. Everyone is assigned their careers for the rest of their lives at the age of 12. Assignments are distributed at an annual ceremony in which the entire community is present. It's a pretty big deal. Unbeknownst by the community, the most honorable position of the Giver is assigned this particular year to a boy who happens to be the main character of our story. (How convenient for us.) Whatever this boy's name is I can't remember. There is one and only one Giver, and so this position is assigned only every ohhh fifty years or so. The Giver's sole responsibility is to be the keeper of the community's memories. All things pleasurable, and all things painful. The keeper of truths. Oh imagine the sensation of sledding to one who has never known snow or the adrenaline of racing downhill! Yet the Giver must also hold the weight of war, famine, burning a finger on a stovetop. So in this new position of mine, Placement Coordinator (not Giver), I get to focus solely on matching kids with safe, loving foster families. It's really fun when it works out, especially when it's a difficult placement. But I'm also finding that it is often times rather frustrating and discouraging. A lot of profiles come through for kids, and I just don't have any homes available for those kids. And it's not the kids you'd expect to be difficult to place either. Teens are definitely the most challenging to find homes for. Also, large sibling groups of three or four or five children, those are challenging too. But sometimes - more times than I'd thought - I get requests in for a 4 year old little boy or an 8 month old little girl, and there's nothing I can do. Could we really have no open beds for a 4 year old little boy or an 8 month old little girl? That can wear on you after a while. But let me tell you what is tougher still. I'm having to face the details of the abuse and the neglect. The stories that bring these kids into the foster care system. I'm reading about the specifics day in and day out. I'm often surprised. Often in disbelief. Malnourished to the point that her hair is falling out? But she's just 2 years old. Fractured skull, fractured ribs, an infant. A 15 year old female who has never been to school before... The neighbors didn't know there were children living in the home, let alone 9 children living in the home. A couple weeks ago I reviewed a 50 page packet for a therapeutic foster  child. It contained the worst of the worst. It's just, it's horrific you guys. I wanted to leave work and go home and cry for this kid. Cry because it is so unfair. My life is so disgustingly simple, so good...and yet this young girl will probably be fighting demons the rest of her days. How can she ever have a normal life after what she has experienced? Nobody can relate to what she has been through. And so I've been thinking about The Giver...thinking about how my eyes are being opened to some things that the world around me doesn't have any idea about. If they only knew... But then I had a conversation with my brother, Gage, the other night. I mentioned some of these struggles to him, and quickly realized that I don't know anything. If anyone is the Giver, it's probably Gage. As a police officer, Gage has been called out multiple times to physically remove children from their families because of abuse and neglect - even fearing for his own safety in doing so. I'm reading about this stuff, but he's seeing it. He's intervening in the situation. Good grief, now those experiences have really got to change and shape you. Change how you think about our world and your life. Anyway, I've got to wrap this up and get my hiney to bed. I wish I had a nice way of resolving this blog or at least some kind of clever segway, but I got nothin'. These are just my recent thoughts. My depressing and possibly somewhat disruptive thoughts for all the world to read. Go get yourself licensed for foster care. Goodnight world. 

Today I woke up in San Salvador.

And then a wonderful thing happened - culture. I'm so glad I left the hotel today. I will admit there is definitely an element of fear present. Fear of the unknown world that is El Salvador, which is not so much known for being a safe place for a gringo girl to travel by herself. Fear of not being able to communicate, of being embarrassed, of being isolated, of not getting my basic needs met. Oh yeah, and of getting lost, taken advantage of, abducted  etc. But I knew I had to leave the hotel today, and the sooner the better. I just walked around the city for the last hour plus, looking for a tasty breakfast at a place now twice recommended called Mister Donut. But mostly I was walking around to just walk and see people and things. Explore and see life here. I unknowingly passed Mister Donut twice (it was on the opposite side of the street, and the signage was covered by the trees), but I'm glad I didn't see it for another 40 minutes. This city reminds me a great deal of other places I've been. A mix between Tijuana and Istanbul perhaps. It is loud and bustling, with bad sidewalks, a dichotomous mixture of new and old, posh and scraggly, developed and undeveloped. It is a clear, perfect day outside and the air is heavy with humidity. My hair is excitedly greeting her long lost pal, Humidity. They love each other, you know. The sun is radiant; I should be wearing sunblock already. Oh well. There is a lot of traffic, horns beeping just to say 'I'm here', and pedestrians get very little consideration. Trixie says it smells like squatters, that it smells like a third world country to her. She would know, I guess, since her homeland is third world and has squatters, but we haven't seen a single squatter yet. There seem to be about twice as many man out than women, and no one looks foreign like me, but I'm sure my hair helps me to blend in better than many other tourists. There are many men working construction, but it appears to be the old-fashioned/primitive/harder way of doing things - jobs that would take less time and be easier by machinery rather than by hand. There's gotta be an easier way, I'm thinking to myself. There are a lot of landscapers, too, but most noticeably of all are the men working security. I've only seen this many security guards at the N'Sync concert back in junior high. And they carry big guns around, making this look like a really dangerous place. No gang sightings yet, but I have been here about 14 hours. They say there are 100,000 gang members here. I know I fit in here because it's hot outside and everybody is wearing pants. I'm a pants all year kind of girl. Shorts are nice, I wear them, I like them, but I love the security of being held in by pants. I was surprised and disappointed to hear from Trixie's work friends (Brad & Jaime) that I should not venture to the volcano or the beach by bus by myself. I've done quite a bit of reading on the area and never got the sense that it was quite so dangerous, but Brad says the gang members are known to raid the buses and rob everyone on board. Luckily it sounds like Trixie will be working less than she had anticipated. Brad and Jaime feel it is important for her to experience the culture, and they want to take time away from work to show us around. I must see the volcano and the beach, but everything else is flexible/extra. Right now, I see a man in uniform shaving his beard on the street. Haha. I think because of my recent experiences in Turkey, I am sure to not smile on the streets here. I am not by nature a stern or serious-looking person. I prefer to smile at strangers, but I am cautious and do not want to unknowingly draw attention to myself or send any signals in a culture I may not be able to fully understand. I try to blend in and go unnoticed; however, I do (am) still wearing my bright green pants. :) I have been hearing God speak to me lately. Yesterday, on the day of travel, I got a very strong impression that I feel was from God. It was a thought, a phrase, but I swear it was from Him and not from me. (That is usually how it happens for me.) He told me that he wants to bless me this week, that he wants to surprise me with fun and rest. I do feel that this trip is an unexpected gift from Him, a surprise. It was so last minute, and the way I received a large refund to my credit card at just the same time, which helped me to pay for more than half the cost of my airfare, which is my only real expense for this trip anyway. So thank you, Lord. I want to enjoy your surprise, your gift to me, fully. I want to take it all in. Also, I immediately felt a sense of guilt/shame about stopping my participation in the all-church 10-day Daniel fast. I stopped when I started feeling very ill and when I learned that my foot was in fact infected (which is a big concern ) and that I needed to take antibiotics like immediately. I stopped fasting on day 6 of the 10 day fast. I felt like God told me or that I remembered that God cannot love me any more nor can he love me any less, and that he just wants to be close to me. Basically it gave me a sense of relief, a sense of freedom - like it didn't ultimately matter to him if I fasted anymore or not, because he loves me and thinks the best of me no matter what I do. Pretty cool, right. I want to hear more. Maybe I'm hearing more because I'm spending time in God's word. Maybe I'm listening more. Maybe I'm being taught how to listen. It is also a comfort to me that in the scripture I'm reading today it says, "But food does not bring us near to God; we are no worse if we do not eat, and no better if we do." (Corinthians 8:8) Like, why should I stumble into that verse on the same day that I am thinking through all of this? Boom. God. Okay, well this has been a lovely stop. But I think I'm ready to leave this air-conditioned Mister Donut and venture out in search of a SIM card and a restaurant for dinner with Trixie tonight.
Journal entry written Jan. 29, 2013

Back in the Saddle

I've been home 10 days now, which is just hard to believe. Time is back to moving at its familiar fast pace again. I'll tell you guys, it is a real struggle to not get caught up in the culture of busyness here. Everything in Germany moves slower, just easing its way along. I loved that you know, I think it was good for my health and my psyche, and I don't want to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of city life again. I'm trying not to anyway, but it is such a challenge already. It's taking some serious intention on my part to not speed wherever I'm driving. I know that speeding makes little to no difference, but I do it so compulsively, so automatically anyway. Speed-walking around my office in hopes of getting one more thing done before that next meeting. Eating lunch at my desk while checking emails. Just trying to cram one. more. thing. into. this. already. full. day. It's never ending though. I'm a gerbil on a wheel. I am my own problem. If I can just be a little more efficient, just get a little more work done today, then I'll be caught up in time for time....but that's not true. It doesn't matter how much I do, there's more of it waiting for me tomorrow. It's no way to live, you guys. I know that, and yet I see myself doing it as if I'm an onlooker sitting in the corner watching this crazy woman unravel. 

Flying standby didn't pan out in the end. I tried to catch one of three outgoing flights from Frankfurt to the USA three days in a row to no avail. Each day I called, and each day all three flights were booked and even overbooked. In the end, Brad saved my life. He gave me the precious gift of home by cashing in some of his frequent flyer miles. Did you know that a last-minute flight from Frankfurt to Phoenix costs $4,200.00? I know right?! I thought it'd be expensive, but not *that* expensive you know. Thank you, Jesus, for Brad's generosity and his plethora of frequent flyer miles that allowed me to finally get home in time. 

It has been really good to be back at work. I love my job and I especially love my co-workers. They are some of the best people on the planet, and I get to work alongside them! We get to meet people's needs together, and it's so cool. I missed it a lot. With that being said, I am suuuuper busy. I have so much work to do it's not even funny, haha. But thankfully I didn't forget everything. I still know how to do this social work thing kind of. The paperwork, scheduling, and phone calls are a bit of an adjustment after spending the summer cooking, cleaning, and hanging out with people. It's a change in workload, that's for sure. 

Keep you guys posted on life and other such events. 

For whoever reads this thing.

Yours truly,

City Girl

Flight Status Update

Flights do not look good for today, Aug. 7th, either. I've started praying that after all of this, when I finally get on a plane, that it might be a first class seat waiting for me. Would you join me in this prayer? (hahaha!) ;)

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go....

Well friends, we've come to the end of our adventure. The last week has been a bit of a whirlwind. I've been very busy helping folks clean their apartments, looking after their children as they pack their belongings, and giving rides to the train station and grocery store while still keeping the house open for it's normal weekly festivities. After Friday's Bible study, everyone went around the room and said some very kind things to me, said their goodbyes, and prayed for me. That's what we do around here, and we do it every time it's someone's "last Friday." I felt very blessed by this, and tried my best to really receive and soak in their kind words. I'm so grateful for this experience and for my new friendships. I could picture myself doing this full time. And shamelessly I will admit that it has increased or awakened a desire in me to be a homemaker. I just really enjoy caring for a home and having people over and the whole bit. Hospitality is a skill that I most certainly want to continue to improve and grow in. It's important that people feel welcomed, cared for, and loved. I want to meet those needs. Several of my friends will be stationed in Washington state, and I've already been invited up for a visit. Isn't that cool?

Brad and Debbie returned from their three-week trip to the USA on Saturday. Although they are laden with jet lag and claim exhaustion, they look grand to me! It has been good catching up and spending time with them. We had folks over on Sunday after chapel for a BBQ, a couple of games of volleyball, and some Olympic entertainment. It was a lot of fun! I am sad to leave the Festaburg hospitality house, but I am also excited and looking forward to being home again. I miss my friends and family very much, and I'm even feeling refreshed and ready to return to work. What a full time this has been, and yet, I'm ready to transition again.

Please pray that my flights may go smoothly on the way home as I am fly standby again. I was planning to fly out today, but just before leaving for the airport learned that all flights were booked full. I am told that tomorrow (Aug. 7th) looks much more promising, and so I am hopeful I will fly out this time around. But we'll see what happens. This standby gig is an adventure in and of itself, isn't it now?

Thank you all for your support. I could not have come here to serve and love like this without your words of encouragement, your prayers, and your financial giving. What a gift you are to me! Thank you for being a part of my world. COOL. Thanks you guys.

Much love,
Jess

Fresh

I think the best thing I have gained from this experience is the realization that I can easily feed a large group of adults. It's just a matter of planning and time really, but it's not hard. I can do it. I've been doing it, and I love it. It feels really good to host and feed people. I am so blessed to have the gift of time this summer that I can do this, that I can serve people in this way. I'm grateful for it. 

Pamplona was a total blast. I mean, what an experience! Everything you have seen in the movies and in photographs - it looks exactly just like that. I wish we had been there longer. We visited the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, which I do believe is the most beautiful building I have visited thus far. Holy gorgeous work of art. I couldn't help but think, if man is capable of such a masterpiece, what then, oh what, is God capable of creating? We had some neat spiritual conversations, and it was a rich time. 

On Saturday we took a day trip to a German town (an hour and a half away by train) called Mainz. Gutenberg's printing press/museum and workshop are there, along with some of the very first printed copies of the Bible. There is a large city square with a public market, a large cathedral, and dark chocolate ice cream - yum!! There was a group of 8 of us, which felt like just the right size and mix. 

There are two young soldiers that just started hanging around the Festaburg the last couple of weeks - Isaiah and Tommy. I don't believe either of them are Christians. Isaiah is a real hoot. He's got this real sassy sense of humor and so I can't help but give him crap at every possible opportunity. They seem to really be enjoying the fellowship and festivities of the hospitality house and we are really glad to have them around here. 

Tommy and I made an interesting connection the other night. And actually, maybe you guys could pray about this specifically. I'd like that. 

Tommy nonchalantly mentioned that his sister's birthday was coming up and said that we should "say a prayer for her." This seemed like a peculiar thing for Tom to say, so I decided to dig a little deeper. "How old is your sister going to be?" 

"Well, actually, she died recently. From Leukemia."

"Wow, did she. I'm so sorry to hear that. My brother also died from Leukemia. When did she die?"

"Seven months ago."

Seven months ago is so recent, so fresh. Ouch. It turns out that Tom's sister had recently had a baby, too. Since I have lost a close loved one, I know that certain days are more significant and painful that others, so I asked when Tom's sister's birthday was. I want to pray for that day in particular and I want to be sure to reach out to Tom on his sister's birthday.
"When is your sister's birthday?"

"The 31st."

You're kidding me. My brother's birthday is the 31st. So Tom and I have quite a bit in common. We have both lost siblings to Leukemia, and our siblings' birthdays both fall on July 31st. I told Tom I would pray for him and his family, and he, acting very soldierly, said I shouldn't worry too much about it. I said, "Okay, I won't worry. But I will pray." Seven months ago for me was as fresh as last week. 

On Sunday the house was open to all. There ended up being about ten of us hanging around the house. We barbequed, played an intense game of Spoons, and watched a couple of movies. It was a great day. I've been on my own for a week now, and Brad and Debbie will be gone yet another week and a half. As you can see, it's been a very full last couple of weeks, and I feel full as well. Thank you for praying and checking in with me here. As always, love you guys. 

Fruit and Sniffles

We had a great Dinner & Discussion last night with a great group of people. We talked about an idea expressed in the book Strength Finder. The American culture values "against all odds" triumph stories, when someone overcomes their greatest weakness. The well-known movie, Rudy, is a perfect example of this. However inspirational a story it is, Strength Finder makes the argument that Rudy at 5'6" and 165 pounds was never meant to be a star football player. It simply was never in the cards for him. It took four tries before Rudy was accepted to Notre Dame. He spent thousands of hours practicing on the school's second string team for, what, thirty seconds of actual game time? Thirty seconds of game time when Notre Dame's win had already been secured, so it didn't even matter if Rudy or you or I played. Rudy wasted his time when he could have been succeeding at something he was good at and built for. Many of us were told as young children that we "can be anything we want to be as long as we try hard enough." But is this really true? Should we tell this to our children? The author shares his personal story of completely buying into this idea and trying with all his might to become the next Michael Jordan. He was serious about basketball, practicing  3-4 hours a day after school and attending basketball camps. This went on for years and years but in the end he couldn't even make the JV team. 77% of Americans believe that their children's lowest grades deserve the most attention. In general, we tend to fixate and focus on our weaknesses rather than encourage our strengths. The author and his team promote self-exploration in order to tap into our strengths and become even more of who we already are. Interesting stuff, huh.

Brad and the rest of the Burundi team will return on Saturday. A professional photographer on the team by the name of Thomas Cooper has been posting gorgeous photos everyday that really give a sense of what's going on down there. I encourage you to look him up on facebook and check them out. Thomas Cooper from Littleton, Colorado. Brad and Debbie will leave Wednesday for a busy three week stateside trip while I keep the house up and running here in their absence. Just a couple of days after their return I will be homeward bound. I'm not counting down quite yet, but it's hard to believe that my trip is 2/3 over. Less than a month's time to serve the house ministry here, but I'm still loving every moment. I have definitely been seeing the fruit of my labor, which I am grateful for. Lots of people give of their time and energies and don't get to see the results. But I do. I see that I'm lightening the load and providing some stability, and I feel appreciated and wanted. It's good to feel useful. 

I have been fighting a cold this week, but I am hopeful that I am on the mend now. A small group of us fly out bright and early tomorrow morning where we will spend the long weekend in Pamplona and Barcelona, Spain for the running of the bulls. It should be a really rich time of fellowship! Pray that nobody gets gored. And don't worry, I'm not running. I would definitely be trampled and killed. 

K, love you guys mucho gracias!! Jessica Susan