claim the name

When I was eleven, I went through confirmation at my home church, Bellevue UMC. It was during this time that I first heard the song Sanctuary, when we went to District Conference. We all loved the song, and so during our official confirmation, on Easter Sunday, we all played the song together on our instruments. Then, after speaking the words which confirmed our faith and affirmed our baptisms, we received Bibles. On the front cover were the words, "Claim the Name." This was the theme of our confirmation time--claim the name of Disciple of Jesus.

This idea of "claiming the name" comes to mind whenever I think about the term "missionary." In August 2013, I was commissioned as a missionary of the United Methodist Church. It can be challenging to claim the name of missionary for several reasons:

The word "missionary" often carries negative connotations. 
What do you think of when you think of missionaries? Often what comes to mind first is the idea of someone going to another country with intent to convert, frequently in culturally-insensitive fashion. Arrogant, self-righteous, hypocritical, and closed-minded are some other terms that hit the mark. With these ideas in mind, I hesitate to label myself as a missionary for fear of what others might think of me.

Something central for my fellow missionaries and myself has been the need to redefine missionary. Many others in my program have shared stories about needing to reassure colleagues and friends that they "aren't that type of missionary." So what type of missionaries are we?

To me, it boils down to seeking justice in faith. The "in faith" part is incredibly important--it is the reason behind the action, the foundation beneath my work. . The justice part is also crucial. My mission is not only to live a life founded on my faith, but to live with the intent to alleviate suffering, to fight for justice, to live with compassion, and to love our neighbors. To me, faith and justice are intertwined and inseparable.

This is not a negative definition. So why is it still so hard to claim the title of missionary?
Because it is so much to live up to. 

Being a missionary means I have accepted not only the challenge of working for justice, but also the challenge to grow in my faith and to remain connected with the church community. As a result, I feel the need to hold myself to a higher standard. I hesitate to claim the title in everyday life because I pressure myself to be perfect, and I fear the judgment of others when I cannot live up to it. In essence, it comes down to my own pride and my tendency to try to do everything myself instead of relying on God and remembering the assurance of grace.

I hope that I can get better at claiming the name of missionary rather than focusing on my fear of what others might think. After all, if my faith in God is so important to me, if it is what has brought me to this place, I should not be ashamed of it.

save the squash!

On Saturday morning, after a forty minute drive to Buckelew Farm, I stepped into the comfortable morning air to survey a seemingly endless field filled with pumpkins and native squashes. It was November 1st, the day after Halloween--AKA the day when pumpkins leave the minds of most Americans until next October.

But what about all those patches full pumpkins never picked? These nutritious, long-lasting food resources rot away while all over the US, people are struggling with hunger and food insecurity.
It is hard to comprehend the sheer scope of the waste. Right now I can't find any data to help us wrap our minds around the amount of pumpkins that go to waste each year. I did find that 1.4 billion pounds of pumpkins/squash are produced in the US each year--and how much of that do you think is leftover after Halloween? My guess is, a depressingly high amount.

For our harvesting crew, though, it was a beautiful day and we were in high-spirits as we rescued the most palatable, nutritious, and long-lasting squash from rotting away. We focused on varieties of squash less-known to most Americans while the Bhutanese with us scoured the field for the freshest pumpkin leaves.

We filled two pickup trucks and the back of the Iskashitaa cargo van with squash and pumpkins! 

Squash will be a fixture at the Iskashitaa office for the next six months since our only limit was the space in the vehicles we brought. I'm hoping to experiment with some recipes to see how I can better incorporate pumpkin into my diet, and to encourage my friends and family members to do so, too! 

I challenge you: call up some local pumpkin farms to see if they would be willing to donate any of their leftover pumpkins/squash, and take some back to your church, food bank, or nonprofit. Then try out some new recipes and see what you find. 

In the meantime, enjoy these pictures from our Saturday outing, taken from the Iskashitaa Facebook page! 

I had fun harvesting with my friends! Normally I only see them before/after harvests. 

An expansive field on a beautiful morning. 

These squash are incredibly heavy! I could only carry one at a time. 

We had a great sized group for our Saturday morning harvest! We had volunteers from Presybterian Campus Ministry, St. Thomas the Apostle Church, and the Young Adult Volunteers program.

sincere reality

I have been trying in vain to write an update for weeks. Somehow, everything I try to write feels empty. I don't know how to describe my experiences in words that are meaningful enough.

I can't believe how lucky I am to be in this position. How could anyone not want a job like mine? I know lots of people wouldn't want it, but for me it is so wonderful that I can't imagine not wanting to do it. (At least, not most of the time! Everyone has their stressful days.)

I know so many incredible people and I get to spend time with people from countries all over the world. My life is full of laughter. I learn to draw, to make date vinegar & date syrup, to say words in new languages, to try new foods, and to consider things from a new point of view.

My international friends are funny and loving. They have real problems and care about real solutions. They have real hearts and real dreams and real joy. This sense of reality is something I have longed for. It's beyond surface level; sincerity in every sense.

My friends inspire me. Many of them are people who have been through hardships I can't even imagine or comprehend. And even now, the challenges continue. But they are here. They have chosen life. They have chosen hope. When I am struggling, they inspire hope in me.

My friends are from many countries, many languages, many cultures, many religions, many backgrounds. I see God in all of them.

Sabbath

When I was in college, I remember once talking to a friend about how overwhelmed I felt. "If only I had one day," I said. "Just one day a week, where I could rest." Pause. "...maybe that's what a Sabbath is for."

Sabbath. The name given for the day of rest.

It can be difficult to recognize a need for Sabbath. In the USA, we are Busy people in a Busy culture. We don't mean to say yes to everything, but, who would do it if we didn't? I think most everyone who is overwhelmed with the Busyness that leads to Burnout has good intentions. But I think some of these unhealthy practices can deteriorate into dangerous (and often subconscious) patterns of thought.

God took time to rest after creating the world. If God rested from work, who am I to say that I don't need rest? Isn't that like saying my work is more important than God's work? Is refusing to rest similar to thinking I am indispensable? Might I not begin to think that my projects cannot be done without me? In reality, the only One necessary in any situation is God, and trying to keep this thought in mind has helped me to feel less pressure and also, I hope, to be less prideful.

If I want my life to be meaningful, I need to take care of myself. How can I contribute to a community if I am overworked to the point that I am fatigued, irritable, and frazzled? How can I strive towards my goals with quality if I can't keep track of my obligations?

These are some of the reasons that I try to have boundaries between my work life and home life. I try not to work from home so that I will not associate my home with work. I try to get enough sleep every night so that I do not lose patience with others due to my fatigue. This is not to say that I am always successful. I am far from that.

At mid-terms, we talked about Sabbath. It reminded me of the importance of rest, and more specifically, the importance of a rest that involves rejuvenation through God. I left that session feeling hopeful that I can recommit to a regular Sabbath. I don't want it to be something legalistic, because then it just becomes another obligation. Rather, I hope that by intentionally practicing Sabbath, I can become more and more the person that God intended me to be.

I'll end with an under-edited poem that I wrote during mid-terms about what Sabbath is to me.

sabbath 
at dawn my dreams are not cut short
and I experience them in their entirety
the extensive expectations of the world are lifted
and obligations cannot bind me.

my shadow dances under the sun
the grass is soft between my toes
and I feel connected to the Earth
wondering at the life it contains
holding us to it through threads of gravity.

I can respond to the call of books on my shelf
an invitation to learn from another's story
the library's quiet welcomes me and
invites me to the edge of enlightenment.
my ink spills onto paper
its mess makes sense of my mixed up mind
emotions flow from fingertips to keys
transposing my soul into song.

I make space for creation
magnificent mountains    and    empty riverbeds
desert plants, flourishing
in a dry and forbidding land

the land of the living is not without danger
the water from the well of life is not easily drawn
hope sometimes hides from me
yet the Spirit on Sabbath bids me--
come. drink deeply. breathe fully. find your hope once more.

crown of joy

A few months ago, I did a presentation with Barbara at the Church Women United's May Friendship Day. After the program, a couple came up to me and shared that they had been through the United Methodist mission programs near the time they had been founded. They met at their training and fell in love; they were then separated for 3 years while one was a J-3 and the other a P-3, going to Japan for 3 years and the Philippines for 3 years, respectively. After they came back, they were married within two months. It's a story fit for cinema.

This is one of the meaningful parts of being a US-2: meeting those who participated in my program in the past, receiving their encouragement, and  having the opportunity to hear their stories and where their journeys took them.

This couple in particular had a special connection to me.

"We named our daughter Stephanie, too. Of course she's older than you."

I smiled. "It's a good name."

"Yes, we picked it out because it means 'crown.' And her middle name was "Joy", so she was "Crown of Joy."

I stared at them a moment and then repeated, "Your daughter's name is Stephanie Joy?"

"Yes--is that--?"

"But that's my name."

I can't describe in words what an intimate and meaningful moment this was. The husband had tears in his eyes, and his wife said, "You must be your parents' crown of joy, too."


This is just one of the many special connections I have experienced since beginning my journey as a US-2. Though I have met other people named Stephanie, and other people with the middle name Joy, I've never actually met anyone else named Stephanie Joy. Crown of Joy. Though I have known that my name means "crown" or "crowned one" for many years, somehow I never thought about my name's meaning in its entirety. Crown of Joy.

I think one of the reasons I have thought about joy so deeply is because it is part of my name, and I am ever trying to live up to my name. This is not always easy, particularly when I forget that it will not be possible apart from God. I have already written a post with some thoughts on the nature of joy, but I am still pondering what it means to be a crown of joy, and perhaps I always will.

oceans

I have always loved the water. Lakes are abundant in Michigan, and on my list of Things I miss, being near water is second only to my friends/family. But as much as I love the lakes, I still feel more connected to the ocean. I attribute this mostly to the summer weeks I spent in Milford, CT throughout my childhood, staying on the Long Island Sound with 40+ family members. Over the years, my cousins and I have developed our skills in sand castle building, finding sea glass and shells, catching jellyfish, hermit crabs, and all manner of other creatures, planning for the tides (sandbar at low tide, swimming at high tide), and more...My memories are filled with joy, and the connection to the ocean is a part of it.

Yet even beyond that, the ocean stirs something deeper in me.

the smell of salt water and
grains of sand beneath my feet
the sound of the waves greeting the shore
water stretching as far as I can see
knowing that the ocean holds life
yet it is powerful and dangerous
it is peace and passion, life and longing
and I feel awe and yearning

This feeling of awe and yearning is something I feel whenever I stop to appreciate creation. I think it has to do with recognizing the beauty of God's work, and with that the knowledge that there is something more, some longing in my heart that God alone can address. And, I feel something more--a sense of call. It is something I cannot always articulate, but it is a deep conviction that I must go. 
I love Oceans by Hillsong because it expresses my feelings so well.

You call me out upon the waters
the great unknown, where feet may fail
and there I find You in the mystery
in oceans deep, my faith will stand 

so I will call upon Your name
and keep my eyes above the waves
when oceans rise 
my soul will rest in Your embrace
for I am Yours
and You are mine

Your grace abounds in deepest waters 
Your sovereign hand will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me 
You've never failed 
and You won't start now

Responding to God's call is not something easy, or clear, or even safe (by worldly standards). Because God calls His followers to bring His light to the darkness, we may walk a path where feet may fail. Fear surrounds me, and the injustice seems overwhelming, and the very water that I so love threatens even to drown me. Yet somehow, in the deepest oceans and the roughest waves, I find You. Despite the great unknown, the mystery, the fear, and the failure....Your grace abounds.

I visited the Pacific Ocean on Saturday. And I felt life, and I felt joy, and I felt God. And despite the overwhelming injustices surrounding us, I still believe You will lead us out of the darkness.

we wait upon the day

The Lord said, "What have you done? Listen! Your brother's blood cries out to me from the ground." -Genesis 4:10 

In the aftermath of tragedy, I wonder, God, do you still hear the blood of the innocent, crying out to you for justice? Can you hear the echoes of each individual soul? From Iraq to Gaza to Syria to Ferguson, and beyond? To the places that no one has heard of, but where injustice reigns seemingly unopposed?

I feel my heart breaking. People around me mourn, with hearts more broken than mine, in the wake of horrors happening in a place they called home. And I wonder, God, does your heart break, too?

I believe that it does.
Have I not prayed, Break my heart for what breaks yours? My heart breaks, but I cannot resent the pain. The day injustice no longer breaks my heart is the day I am no longer myself.

Yet my heart and soul cry out, and I identify with Habakkuk. (1:2-4)

How long, oh Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen?
Or cry out to you, "Violence!" but you do not save?
Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrong?
Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds.
Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails.
The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted. 

Have mercy on us. We wait upon the day. We seek justice and love mercy, and we wait upon the day.
 And I remember that Habakkuk ends in hope.

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will be joyful in God my Savior.
The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet feel like the feet of a deer, 
he enables me to go on the heights. 
-Habakkuk 3:17-19

May injustice ever break my heart.
May I never close my senses to truth.

May You show us the way out of the darkness.

Conference Quotes

My past week has been saturated with conference activities. I have been to two different conferences in this time--and I am still at the second conference!

My current conference is called the North American Roundtable and it is put on by the Refugee Highway Partnership. People from all over North America have gathered at Grand Canyon University in Phoenix to share best practices, to give encouragement, and to learn from one another.

I have been to so many sessions that I don't know where to start! For this post, I am just going to share some facts about refugees and some quotes from the speakers that have stood out to me.

• There are 15 million refugees in the world. This number includes people who have crossed an international border to escape persecution. It does not include the many millions of people who are internally displaced (people who have fled their home but are still within their country's borders.) 
• Half of the world's refugees are children. 
• Kakuma Refugee Camp in Kenya has 150,000 people living in it, and 3000 new arrivals come each week. 
• Colombia currently has more forcibly displaced people than any other country in the world. 

Notable Quotes: 

• "He's not listening [to the speaker]. He's in the back reading his Bible." Dr. Kigabo Mbazumuntima
• Charity is transactional, not transformational. What transforms people is not intervention, but investment. -Dr. Gary Kinnaman
• "Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! This is the language of heaven." -Rose Mapendo
• "Anger is contagious. You can infect everyone you interact with." -Rose Mapendo
• Wholeheartedness is not a noisy virtue. -Dr. Larrie Gardner
• "What do we do at my organization? We do weird stuff that's hard to explain." -Cody Lorance
• The graveyard is full of indispensable people. -Randy Reynolds
• "The cost of ministry is more than we know." -Randy Reynolds
• Jesus did not fix every problem in Israel. -Dr. Larrie Gardner

I want to emphasize that these are simply quotes that stood out to me in the moment and that I had the time and energy to write down. Some of these are moments of humor, but the presenters did share wonderful information. If you click on the links above, you can learn more about some of the speakers. All of the presentations I have heard have been excellent, and hopefully in the next few days I can share about them in more detail.

For those of you who are wondering why some of the quotes are in quotations and others aren't, those in quotations are direct quotes I wrote down. The others I may have read in their presentation or heard during their presentation but the quote itself may have originally come from a different source. I am not sure, so if you are sure, let me know and I will update for accuracy! 

A Car, Kindness, and Conferences

This was an exciting week for me, mainly because I now have a CAR! I have been looking for several months now, and it feels surreal to finally have something. My car is a 2005 Hyundai Elantra. I am still figuring out what her name is, but she is blue! My car has already been making my life dramatically easier, and I feel like a "true" Arizonan with my Arizona license plate.

These were some other highlights of the week:

-On Tuesday, I went to the St. Francis UMC's Council on Ministries. It is a monthly event for church committee meetings. I met the new pastor of St. Francis, invited congregation members to the dinner we are having next week, and engaged in enjoyable and meaningful conversations about outreach and ministry.

-On Thursday, all the women in our office got temporary "Be Kind" tattoos. (I found some in a drawer I was organizing.) Be Kind is the motto of Ben's Bells, a local organization which promotes and recognizes acts of kindness.

-Thursday evening, we had our monthly Refugee 101 Volunteer Training. Heather and I give this presentation together. It is a long day, but I always enjoy it because the information is so interesting and the attendees are always so engaged. I love teaching people about refugee resettlement and having conversations with them about their own experiences with refugees.

-On Thursday night, I spent time with my friend Carly. We went out for a light meal of an appetizer and dessert. Our dessert was a s'mores pizookie and it was amazing -- chocolate cookie with peanut butter, marshmallow, and ice cream. (Pizookie=pizza cookie and I am convinced it is an Arizona thing, though you are welcome to tell me if you've had one elsewhere.)

Dragonfruit

Figs-all from one tree!

This week at Iskashitaa we harvested figs and dragonfruit! I now have a dozen fresh figs in my refrigerator!

-Last night, I spent the night at the YAV house (the house for the Presbyterian Young Adult Volunteers) with my friends Amy Beth and Heather.We made quinua pizza balls, watched Mean Girls, saw the sunset, and overall had a very enjoyable time.

The next couple weeks will be busy for me:

-On Monday, I'm attending a Food Safety class so I can get a Food Safety Certification in Pima County. I'm also planning to go to the DMV so I can register to vote in Arizona.

-On Wednesday, we are having our Food for Thought Potluck Dinner at St. Francis. This is a dinner we have every other month that I coordinate. It is meant to be a time of community building and a time for refugees to share their traditional foods. We usually have wonderful conversations, and at our last dinner we also got to hear some wonderful music!

-On Thursday, I'm going to a conference in Phoenix called Mission U. This is a conference put on annually by the United Methodist Women. I'm taking two different programs -- the Roma of Europe and the Church & People with Disabilities. I think it will be very informative and a great opportunity to connect with United Methodist Women in the Desert Southwest. I'm also leading a Focus Group where I will share about Iskashitaa and the US-2 program. The UMW gave me a scholarship to attend this conference, so I am very grateful and excited!

-After I get back from Mission U, I'm headed off to another conference called the North American Round Table. This is a conference held annually at a different location somewhere in North America, and this year it is in Phoenix. It is a gathering for people in ministry with refugees. At this conference I'm doing a table talk about Iskashitaa's harvesting model. I'm looking forward to meeting people who work with refugees around the continent!

out of dust

Inspired by the song "Beautiful Things" by Gungor.

All this pain, I wonder if I'll ever find my way?
 I wonder if my life could really change at all?
All this earth. 
Could all that is lost ever be found? 
Could a garden come up from this ground, at all? 

I feel that everyone has these thoughts at some point. The lyrics convey a sense of hopelessness--a desire for things to be different, but an uncertainty of whether or not that change could be reality. Such thoughts come frequently for me here in Tucson, where I have thought more deeply about the problems in my city, my state, my country, my world.
Sometimes I wonder not just about my life changing, but about the world really changing. Could a garden really come up from this ground of greed and selfishness, of hatred and violence? Could those who are lost in suffering and oppression or in power and wealth ever truly be found?

These questions cross my mind when I see news headlines and read blog posts of my fellow missionaries in service. Natural disasters destroying homes and ending lives. Families desperate for futures, for freedom. People groups hungry for justice, thirsty for righteousness. Countries plagued by fear, oppression, and violence.

Can a garden come up from this ground?

All around 
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found, in You 

Yet in the midst of pain and despair, in the midst of hardships and grief, I still see hope spring anew. I see it in the refugees that I work with every day. I see it in the brightly colored flowers and plants that thrive in the desert. I see it in my coworkers, who can dance in the rain after a stressful day's work. I see it in my fellow young adult missionaries and volunteers, who continue to seek justice and love mercy, even though it is hard.
I see people who, in the midst of chaos, are choosing life, are choosing hope. And that gives me hope.

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us 

All of us are dust. When I think of dust I think of insignificance, of dirt. Of something useless and troublesome. Yet this repeated chorus reminds me that despite the hopelessness I feel and the doubt that anything good could come from me, God still makes beautiful things. He is still working. The story is not over yet.
God can make anything beautiful. Even dust. Even us.

A Special Experience

A few weeks ago, I went home to Michigan for a visit. While I was there, something very special happened. There is a family here in Tucson of refugees from Sudan that have become good friends of mine. The oldest brother, who lives here with his wife, children, and two younger brothers, told me months ago that he had a sister living in Michigan. So, when I went back for a visit, he gave me his sister's phone number.

Two nights before I left for Arizona, I called his sister. I was nervous. So many things could go wrong--she might not understand me or she might be confused about who I was. She might not be home, or she might not have time to meet me. But she answered the first time I called her, we understood each other, and she agreed that I could come visit her the next morning. So the next morning I drove an hour to her house.

I came inside the apartment complex with a box full of tomatoes and a stack of books. Even then, I still worried. What if she wasn't home or I had come to the wrong place?

She answered the door. I gave her the tomatoes and explained that I brought them from Tucson, and that one of her brothers had helped picked them. We talked about her experience so far in America and about where she had been before coming here. She showed me photos of her family and friends, most of which were taken in the refugee camp. She woke up her two elementary school aged daughters, and they almost immediately began to look through the books I had brought. This was perhaps my favorite part of the visit--seeing these girls, the nieces of my friends in Tucson, looking so eagerly at the books I had read in my own childhood. As they looked through the books, they caught each other's attention when they found pictures they liked and wanted to show the other.

After I had been there a while, a knock came at the door and a little girl came in. She was clearly a regular presence in the apartment and she started looking through the books, too. Later her mother stopped by and brought some food. I had seen pictures of her and her daughter in the photo album.

After the girls looked through most of the books, the older daughter went to her room and brought back a notebook and pencil and started trying to draw the Rainbow Fish. Her mother smiled and said her daughter liked to draw. The other daughter showed me a picture of her class and pointed out which students were her friends.

Before I left, we took a picture together. She kept thanking me for coming, and I kept thanking her for letting me come. She walked me out to my car. I wished I could stay longer. I wished I could come again, soon. I remembered what one of the other brothers said when I told him I was going to try and see his sister: "Bring her back with you." I wished that I could.

A few days ago I talked to her oldest brother on the phone. After welcoming me back to Tucson, he thanked me for going to see his sister, and I thanked him for connecting me with them.
I look forward to visiting her again when I go home in December for Erica's graduation.
And I wonder how I became lucky enough to have such an incredibly special experience.

Cause for Celebration

Last Friday, June 20th, was the hottest birthday of my life. It was also a day full of celebrations!

I was lucky enough to have multiple celebratory meals and SIX different "cakes" :

1. An avocado "cake" given to me by William

2. Vegan, gluten-free cupcakes, made by Heather and Micah (and Gina and Elizabeth?), enjoyed by the harvesters and our office staff

3. Flan at a Mexico-City style Mexican restaurant for lunch with my colleagues (one of the most laughter-filled meals I have ever enjoyed)

4. Cheesecake at a Mediterranean restaurant for dinner with friends

5. A piece of chocolate cake from my housemate Dorsett

6. I also feel obliged to mention the Iskashitaa-themed cake that my aunt made for me the Saturday prior when we celebrated while I was home in Michigan! Everyone in Tucson was very impressed.

My birthday is also World Refugee Day, an opportunity to recognize and celebrate the incredible strength, resilience, spirit, and character of refugees. Refugee FOCUS, a resettlement agency in Tucson, held the grand opening for their new office downtown. It was great to celebrate this with them and to see their new space. Gina and I also got some beautiful henna done!

At the conclusion of the grand opening, everyone there walked down to the plaza in front of the library downtown and held a "flash mob." A highlight for me was doing the Cupid Shuffle in 100 degree weather with some of my coworkers and YAV friends. Following this music and dance, Heather and I led a "parade" of refugees to a nearby park center for a potluck.

I am so thankful for all the coworkers and friends I have here in Tucson. Before my birthday I didn't really have any plans aside from the World Refugee Day events and maybe trying to get free food somewhere. Yet thanks to my many friends, I did much more than that! It was a day of unending celebration, for which I am thankful.

Dinner with friends! 

I realize this is just one day of my past month, which has been very very busy! I will not attempt to put it all into one blog, so stay tuned!

Local First

Tucson is a big city with a small town feel. I have had this conversation quite a few time since moving here, but it's true. With 500,000 people in the city of Tucson and ~1 million in the metro area, it truly is a big place. However, the vast majority of the buildings are only one story tall, leading to a very spread out city.

One of the great things about living in a bigger city is the sheer number of local businesses. In Battle Creek, I don't often go out to eat, and when I do, it is usually at chain restaurant. I have eaten at very few chain restaurants since arriving here in Tucson (and some of the chains are "local" ish chains that we don't have in Michigan, like Eegee's and In N Out) The number of quality restaurants is through the roof, so much so that there are few places I have visited more than once. This also means a wide variety of ethnic foods are represented!

But it goes beyond the restaurants. Whenever we have something at our house worked on, Fran always has someone from a locally owned business come. This includes cleaning services, landscaping teams, and maintenance work like turning on our swamp coolers or fixing the leak in our roof. Fran also takes the two dogs to a locally owned dog-daycare a couple times a week. The place is close by and very cute. I thought it looked like a great time for dogs who get along well with other dogs, and it's a nice way to make sure your dogs are getting exercise during the day (particularly as it is getting hot out now, and the daycare is indoors.) Iskashitaa also sells fruit to some of the local coffee shops and businesses.

The great thing about this is the relationship building. The ladies who clean our house left us a rose for Valentine's day. The man who worked on our roof put lights on my bike when he noticed they weren't out of the box yet. The owners and waiters at the local restaurants always recognize our director and her husband when we go out to their favorite lunch places. We bring them fruit from Iskashitaa and get to experience deeper conversation. I enjoy this a lot because it seems like a picture of what community should truly be like-- with everyone supporting and appreciating the work of their neighbors.

What local businesses do you support?

May days

What has been happening lately? We are busy as always at Iskashitaa, but activity in Tucson is winding down for the summer. U of A finished finals this week. The weather is getting hotter (99 for the past 2 days) and the students and snowbirds are starting to leave for the summer. The sun is getting more intense; the UV index is so high that I started wearing sunscreen for my 2 block walk to Iskashitaa.

In the office, we're focusing on trying to get the rest of the citrus before the real heat sets in, as well as other fruits that are only ripe for a brief time, like loquats and apricots. We also have two garlic harvests this month; one has already happened, the second will be in the next couple weeks. We are also hosting a number of summer interns, which is something I'm already enjoying.

A couple weeks ago Iskashitaa was honored by the Jewish Federation of Southern Arizona, receiving the Meyer & Libby Marmis Humanitarian Award. It was a very nice presentation, and I enjoyed seeing the rest of the awards presented by the Jewish Federation.

This week I attended a UMW meeting at a local church and gave a short program about the US-2 program and Iskashitaa. I enjoyed spending time with the women, and we discovered that two of them actually live right across the street from our office!

I'm looking at a summer full of conferences and travel. In June, I'm visiting Michigan as well as attending the UMC Prepare conference and the Desert Southwest Annual Conference. In July, I'm attending the United Methodist Women's Mission U and the North American Round Table, which is a North American gathering for people in refugee ministry. Right now, I'm most excited about the prospect of visiting home and being near water again. I'm already thinking about what fruits will be ripe in Michigan so that I can bring them back to our office. (True evidence of Iskashitaa's impact on me.)

Today I spent time with one of my friends for the last time before she leaves for the summer. We were talking about all the traveling we want to do. I think it would take us years to visit all the places we'd like to go. Sometimes I wonder if I'm too full of idealism--romanced by the idea of travel, excitement, and adventure. Yet still the longing remains, and I wonder where my path will lead me after Tucson.

One of the hardest parts about being away is missing important events like weddings and graduations. Some of my dearest friends have graduated from Michigan State this month or have celebrated marriages, and it's so sad for me not to be able to be physically present for the celebration. No journey comes without trials.

FTE Discernment Retreat

My fellow US-2 and prayer partner, Cindy, also attended the conference! 

This past weekend I had the opportunity to go to the FTE Northwest Discernment Retreat in Auburn, Washington. FTE is the Forum for Theological Education, and the conference this weekend was just what I needed. I flew into Seattle on Friday morning and spent the next several days listening to talks, reflecting, attending workshops, and participating in discussions. I was thrilled to be in a place with so much green and so much water!!! I met young adults serving all over the northwest (and beyond) in programs similar to mine, and it was a blessing to be able to connect with people who understand what I'm doing.

These are some snippets that were highlights for me. I hope to expand on these ideas in the next few days!

Vocation connects what you love to the needs of the world.

Common anxieties: 
-Idea of fate and death (lack of control, lack of choice)
-Guilt and shame (falling short, not living up to ourselves)
-Emptiness and meaninglessness (does anything I do matter?)

Embrace grace.
Accept the fact that you are accepted.

Why am I talking to myself as I would not talk to someone else?

What is the place of deep longing for me?

Color does not equal culture. (You can't assume a culture by looking at someone's color--heard from biracial conference attendees.)

Nightmares could be healing dreams, but we wake up before the healing can occur.



I also had the great joy of reuniting with my fellow US-2, Cindy. Cindy was my roommate during our Interview & Discernment Days and she is also my prayer partner! (Picture is at the top of the post.)


Another highlight for me was seeing my Aunt Laura, my cousin Danielle, and her husband Gonzo. Aunt Laura came to pick me up early Saturday morning and we met Danielle and Gonzo at a nearby place for breakfast. This was such a renewing and valuable time for me! Seeing people who are important to you is life-giving.

Reclaiming Community

Today I went on a harvest with a church group for a special Sunday service worship. We went to a property with 110 trees...an incredible number! (For reference, on a normal harvest day we might harvest 5-7 trees. We also had a group about three times larger than usual, but that still does not compare to a normal day.)

As I talk with more people about what Iskashitaa does, I continually have conversations about how even one tree produces so much more fruit than one family can use. Even families who share with their neighbors still have an abundance of fruit. It was the same when I was growing up and we had a garden; my dad would take tomatoes and corn to work and to various friends' homes, but we still had more than we could ever use.

I wonder if the way food grows naturally indicates something about the way we were intended to live. One fruit tree produces far more fruit than one person or even one family could consume. It seems they were made to feed communities rather than individuals. This isn't reflected in our grocery stores today. While we can buy in bulk, most items come individually packaged and meant for only one person or one family. We've become isolated and closed off, and I think it robs us of relationships.

It feels so much more natural and right to pick fruit in the sun with friends and neighbors than to pick it off the shelf, alone, under the harsh lighting of a grocery store. Harvesting fruit to me feels like reclaiming community.

Interpretive Cactusing

My sister Erica and I visited Saguaro National Park (west) a few weeks ago. We have since embarked on a journey to use the human form to reflect the beauty of the cactus. We have dubbed this art "Interpretive Cactusing" or "Cactus Interpretations." Photography by Terri Plotas. 

my life in photos

Heather and I made vegan, gluten-free cupcakes with Meyer lemon frosting and strawberry garnish for Barbara's birthday. The Meyer lemons were ones we harvested. Delicious! 

During one of our staff meetings we enjoyed blood orange juice. No sugar, no additives, no artificial colors,  just juice! 

I made this "Fruit Art" with Peace Pockets (made by refugees) and fruit harvested by Iskashitaa. The fruit included two types of grapefruit, oranges, tangelos, and tangerines. 

Some of the grapefruit we harvest are enormous. This one is almost as big as my face. 

My coworker Heather with one of Barbara's adorable dogs, Toola. 

From my day at the Grand Canyon. 

Making date vinegar! 

The Iskashitaa booth at the Peace Fair. 

I hope to share more photos and stories soon!

Tucson Festival of Books

When I was growing up, my mom would give me a time limit whenever we went to the library. Otherwise she would wait for hours, only to discover me on the floor between the shelves, where skimming the first few pages had become reading the first hundred pages . Even when I brought a list of the books I wanted, I was never ready when the time limit ended. This led to me attempting to make it from section to section without running into my mom, so that she wouldn't have the chance to extract me before I was ready. My sister would usually end up spotting both of us: my mom roaming around, ready to inflict her time limit, and me, frantically trying to evade her.

That being said, you will understand why I was excited to go to the Tucson Festival of Books this weekend. When I mentioned to my housemate that I planned to go, she said, "Oh, take a look at this guide that was in the paper." The guide was more than 20 pages long. I kid you not. It was overwhelming.

The book festival featured hundreds of authors selling, signing, and talking about their books. The public could attend free lectures, panels, and discussions, and performances by various local groups could be seen on stages around the festival. Booths for literacy groups, the library, authors' associations, publishers, used book sellers, and more lined the UA Campus, where the event was held.

The festival also had a science section that was geared towards kids, and it was filled with interesting and interactive booths. Local groups could share their research, teach about nutrition, or demonstrate other scientific principles. While walking through, we saw a toddler lifting 60lbs using a pulley system!

I went with a couple of friends and we went to two different lectures. The first was a panel of authors who run writing workshops in the state prison. One of the writers was a former convict who had been through the program himself. It was so interesting to hear them all share their experiences, as well as a good (albeit depressing) reminder of how broken the justice system is in the US. I also received a free book of their most recent publications.

The second lecture was with Todd Miller, the author of the book Border Patrol Nation. A journalist from the Arizona Daily Star facilitated, and Todd recounted some stories of how different people have been affected by Border Patrol, including undocumented immigrants, permanent residents, and US Citizens. It was particularly interesting to me because several of the stories he shared took place at the Port Huron - Canada border or in northern New York, both of which are places I have experience with.

It is times like this when I am thankful that I have two years here in Tucson, because I can look forward to going to the book festival next year, and I will have a better idea about what I can do. I'm hoping that next year I can meet or at least hear from some of my favorite authors! This year Lois Lowry and Cornelia Funke were there, but sadly I was not able to meet them. Regardless, I am still happy to have been able to attend a festival that feels like it was created for me!

Imagine No Malaria

On Friday night, we partnered with a local church, St. Mark's UMC, to hold a benefit dinner for Imagine No Malaria. Imagine No Malaria is a project through which the United Methodist Church seeks to end deaths from malaria. By clicking the link in the first sentence, you can read more about the project and its goals.

The dinner was called, "An Evening in Africa" and featured African dishes, speakers, videos, and music. The food was absolutely delicious, and I was happy to be able to share a table with four Congolese youth, two asylum seekers (from Egypt and Burundi) and a man originally from England. After we got our food, the Congolese youth waited a little bit before they started eating. The girl sitting next to me explained that they don't use silverware at home. It felt awkward to them to use silverware to eat African food, but they also felt awkward not using silverware since everyone else was using it. Eventually they decided to use the silverware to eat.

The father of the Congolese youth shared a short message about malaria and his own experience with it. He is the pastor of a local African congregation called Bethesda (which means pool of mercy). The young man from Burundi played piano beautifully through the beginning of the program and then sang a song about malaria that he had composed for this event. He then shared about his own experience with malaria.

The whole evening was very meaningful and touching. I think it was valuable for this group of Americans to be able to understand the effect that malaria actually has and to hear stories of people who have experienced it firsthand. I think it helped everyone to realize what an important campaign this is.

Whenever we come together to share stories we are engaging in something incredibly valuable, because these events give us the chance to recognize that everyone's story is important. I think being asked to share our stories reminds us that we are worth something and that our lives are not meaningless.

I also thought this event was a wonderful example of how the UMC is a global church. I think it is important for us to be able to contribute to something greater than ourselves, and it is so neat to be able to come from Michigan and hear about churches planning Imagine No Malaria events there, and then be able to attend Imagine No Malaria events here in Tucson, as well.

If you would like to contribute to the effort to Imagine No Malaria, click here and then select the red "Give Now" icon on the right side of the screen.

Beyond Vinegar

“I tried date vinegar today,” I told my mom, who called from snowy Michigan to hear how things were in sunny Arizona.

“Date vinegar? I’ve never heard of such a thing! What did it taste like?”

I didn’t know how to describe it to her; I couldn’t think of words that fit. That got me thinking: Is this how refugees feel when they come to the US—like they don’t have the words to describe what they are experiencing, even in their native language?

So often we see refugees solely as people in need of aid. After all, they have come here for protection, and must learn a new language, a new culture, and a new way of life. English is often not a second language but a third, fourth or fifth. The culture is confusing, and navigating systems like healthcare and education can be overwhelming. Finding a job that can both feed the family and pay the rent is another stress-filled challenge. And all this is on top of dealing with the aftereffects of the trauma and persecution which caused them to leave their homes initially.

While all these struggles are real, we can forget to see beyond them to recognize that refugees have things to teach us, too. Date vinegar is just one example of this.

Under the instruction of Alaa and Faeza, two Iraqi refugees, we started the vinegar in December. After about 45 days, it had reached the point where it was ready for processing. An Egyptian refugee, a Sudanese refugee, and several other volunteers joined Alaa and Faeza to get started.

As we stood in the kitchen, I tried to soak in the steps while Arabic sentences floated over my head. I recognized that even if the refugees spoke in English, I still wouldn’t understand; I know nothing about the intricacies of making date vinegar. As Alaa showed Barbara a more effective way to squeeze the dates, I remembered the time he showed us all how to properly cut open pomegranates. The Sudanese refugee, who was a farmer in Darfur, was with me on my first orange harvest, where he showed me how to pick oranges properly. Manerva and Faeza have done cooking demonstrations at Tucson Meet Yourself, and they continue to share their food and their culture in other ways, as well.

At Iskashitaa we work with refugees because we care deeply. We want to see them become successful in America and we want to see them become part of the community. Yet we also work with refugees because we recognize that what they have to teach us is incredibly valuable. As I experience this more and more, I realize that these lessons change me in significant and meaningful ways. I begin to think that cross-cultural exchange is not just enriching, but vital.

As we finished up in the kitchen, Faeza said, “I want everyone in Tucson to taste date vinegar.” So do I—but I hope that date vinegar is only the beginning.

This is an article that I wrote for the Iskashitaa newsletter. click here if you would like to sign up to receive the Iskashitaa newsletter, which comes out by email once a month. 

the nature of Joy

After a difficult senior year at Michigan State, and a midst a tough transition to Tucson, I find myself contemplating the nature of joy. I find that many Christians (myself included) like to talk about joy: how we have joy in Christ, that the joy is ever present and never-ending, joy > happiness, etc. ish. But I wonder, what does it actually mean to have joy? Do we even understand what we are describing, or are we just throwing around memorized fragments of scripture haphazardly? What is the difference between joy and happiness? What does it mean to "Be joyful always"?

Sometimes I wonder if we think, subconsciously even, that having joy means feeling good all the time. I wonder if this is a barrier to sharing our struggles in Christian community. Do I worry that sharing my hardships might make others think that I'm not following Christ as well as I should be? Is the pain I feel a reflection of a weakness in my relationship with God?

Because if I have a healthy relationship with God, all my sorrows, worries, struggles, and pain should be taken care of, right? But it isn't that simple. More and more I find myself thinking that the place without pain is a bubble of ignorance I've created for myself. It just isn't real.

When I am at a conference seminar, learning about the methods of torture and how survivors are affected, is that honestly something I should experience without pain? What does "be joyful always" mean in that situation? I certainly cannot describe my feelings as happy, and sharing my feelings with God does not make them hurt less. It helps that they are known, but it does not end the pain. How could it when I know that the torture continues, and that even those who are now removed from that danger still suffer from the effects of their experience?

A couple weeks ago I read a blog posted by my friend Amy Beth, who is a YAV (Young Adult Volunteer) that I met through my coworker Heather (who is also a YAV.) It talked about her thoughts regarding an article she read about a study that found that meaning and happiness were not generally positively correlated in peoples' lives--that is, the people who were happier said their lives were less meaningful, and vice verses. She went on to talk about how that has been reflected in her own life as she works as a YAV in Tucson. This post spoke to my heart because I could relate to it so deeply.

I have frequently found myself thinking, I am not happy. While many factors play into this, one part of the equation is simply this: what I am doing is hard. And I knew it would be hard...but it is hard in ways I never could have anticipated.

It is hard because I search for meaning and I search for truth. The common phrase, "The truth hurts," never resonated with me much until I thought of it in terms of the realities of the world. Someone asked me recently, "Doesn't it weigh on you, hearing these stories of people who have been through such trauma? How do you deal with that? How do you balance it while dealing with the challenges in your own life?"

Of course it weighs on me. But I would not change what I am doing for anything. It weighs on me, but it is the truth. It is real. This is someone's story, and it is valuable and important and it has a right to be told. The story, the truth, should be known, and we should be willing to acknowledge it. I have more thoughts regarding this idea, but for now I will return to my reflections on joy.

I recently came across a journal entry recording a conversation I had with one of my dearest college friends, Joy. This happened during our sophomore year, near spring semester finals, while we were alone in the Shaw basement at 5am. (And yes, I realize how humorous it is that I am mentioning my friend Joy in my post about joy.)

• Me:I'm worried about my future.

• Joy:Oh my gosh, Stephanie, don't be worried about your future! You have a wonderful future! You're going to meet people and love them and have fun with them and lead people to God and do ministry and glorify God! (something to this effect, but longer and more Joy-ish)

• Me:Awwww...that's so beautiful. You're right.

• -pause-

• Me:Except I wasn't so much worried about the future future...it was more like the next 24 hours.

• Joy:Ohhhhh. Don't think about that. Think long-term. Jesus.

• Me:Jesus.

• Both: (nodding)Yeahhhh.

Maybe this is a picture of joy. It is not so much the immediate future, fraught with stresses, trials and pain--but the far off future, in which we know that we will be eternally with God and able to see the meaningful parts of our lives. I think joy is long term. It is like hope in that it is believing, even when you feel surrounded by darkness, that God is still good, and that your life has meaning. It is in feeling the pain of the world's realities and still praising God, in knowing that "every tear will be wiped from our eyes."

This is only one piece of my perspective on joy, and I know I could say so much more about the many things I've mentioned in this post. But for now, I will recognize that my feelings and emotions are valid whether or not they are "positive," and that I can find joy in my hope for the future, which is my hope in Christ.

East Coast Girl

This is a short and sweet list of some new differences I've noticed between Michigan/Tucson since my last post about this topic. Most of them relate to the fact that I am from a different climate and time zone. I realize that I am not "technically" from the East Coast, however I am from the EST, and I used that to justify my title.

• Wheel of Fortune is on at 6:30, and Jeopardy does not follow it. This was highly distressing for me. I spent a lot of time figuring out what time Jeopardy is on (3:30 - an inconvenient time for me). 

• Nationally broadcasted events end earlier here. I realize that this is obvious, but after the Superbowl ended yesterday, I was convinced that it was quite late, only to discover that it was actually 8:30. I assume this is an effect of spending the rest of my life watching from the Eastern Time Zone. 

• I have a different concept of cold than most Tucsonans. To many, 50 degrees is freezing. To me, it is mid-May. 

• Most buildings are one story. In theory I am aware of this fact. Still, whenever I visit a new building, particularly a residence, I expect a second floor. Frequently this is not the case, and it confuses me. I use stairs a lot less here than I did in Michigan. 

• Michigan - water, no mountains. Tucson - mountains, no water. A friend of mine was genuinely shocked when I casually mentioned that there are no mountains in Michigan. "None?! At all? But where do you hike?" Similarly, I am rather distraught by the lack of lakes here. 

•  Citrus is far more exciting to me than to people who grew up here. It is my dearest ambition to harvest a lemon tree, and one of my friends has a huge one at her house. When we were discussing fruit at one point, another friend mentioned that she wished they had an apple tree. I thought this was interesting because we have two apple trees at my house in Michigan, but I had never seen a citrus tree before I moved here. 

• Arizona doesn't believe in daylight savings time. This is nice since I don't have to confuse my body by changing the clock at arbitrary times throughout the year. Instead, everyone else is confused because the time difference changes. 

Abuse Happens: An Epidemic

Today I participated in a Church Women United event in Mesa, near Phoenix. Church Women United is an organization committed to seeking justice (particularly for women) and for doing so across denominations. Today at the event, we participated in several different workshops.

The first workshop focused on domestic violence. A long table was set up with various stations, labeled things like: Friends & Family, Hospital, Shelter, Forgive and Forget, Job, Funeral Home, Court, Religious Advice, Abuse Happens, and Return to Home. Each station had cards of different colors. At the beginning we would choose a color and follow that character through the various stations, sometimes returning places more than once and sometimes having choices. (For example, you could either go to the hospital or to a friend's house.) When we went to the Shelter, we had to flip a coin to see if we would be admitted, since often not enough space is available for everyone who seeks protection. Whenever we visited Abuse Happens, after reading our card we would put on a band-aid to represent that we had been abused.

I found this to be a very powerful exercise. I think it helped us to better identify with these stories. Instead of reading about something that happened to someone else, we read the cards as if this was something happening to ourselves. It also helped us realize how difficult the situation can be. For instance, some women were saying, "No matter what we did, no matter what we chose, we always ended up back at Abuse Happens." Others were saying, "We're being accused of violence by the courts, and that isn't what happened at all. We are innocent; we are the victim!"

My character was an immigrant, and every time I went somewhere I had to "wait 5 minutes for a translator." (Though in reality this wait would probably be longer, or I would not be given a translator at all, despite what the laws might be.)There was also the added fear that I would be deported or face some other kind of struggle since I was an immigrant. At the end of my story, I was living away from my abuser and I had two band-aids on my left hand. Some of the women were not so lucky; their stories ended in the Funeral Home.

After we finished the exercise, one of the women present confided in me that she had a daughter who had gone through this situation. Other women were not able to participate due to the emotional stress.

One of the most difficult things to think about was how common this issue is and yet how little it is talked about in the church. And, as our presenter said, our silence gives consent. When we say nothing, when we allow these things to continue happening, we encourage the violence to continue. This is especially troublesome when we consider the epidemic of misplaced blame: telling women that they deserve to be abused or that the abuse is somehow their fault. But there are no excuses for violence. It is a choice made by the abuser, and we cannot be silent. We cannot let women continue to believe that they are inferior or that this is their fault they are abused.

Our presenter provided some resources on how to address this issue. These were a few of the suggestions:

• preach sermons on the topic in Sunday service
• teach youth (and others in the church) what healthy relationships look like
• put  resource cards in bathroom stalls (where women can take them without anyone else seeing), called "Shoe Cards" because they can be kept in a shoe--so an abuser would not find it in the victim's purse
• learn how to support someone who is experiencing abuse 
• become educated domestic violence and what shelters/other forms of support are in your community

The statistics regarding the prevalence of domestic violence are heartbreaking. As the presenter said, "If domestic violence was the flu, we would be mobilizing."