I haven't posted in over a week - and it's mostly because fall has reared its head. Confirmation started this week, and this weekend I had services with my mission trip kids. It was a full week - and my mind felt like it was going 20 different directions at once. I had so much running through my mind that at times, I had to ask people to repeat themselves because I couldn't hear them over my internal monologue. Teen CBS had its first official meeting last Monday, and I am still working on putting together the final pieces of a band. We play on the 22nd. :)
This week is just as crazy...although in a different way. Council on Tuesday night, 6:30am presentation and 7:30am meeting on Wednesday plus Confirmation and everything else, meeting in Byron and meeting in Owatonna on Thursday, football game and weekend event Friday night thru Sunday, rounding out with an afternoon at an apple orchard Sunday afternoon. Despite all of that, I feel like I'm starting to get a handle on the fall schedule, slowly but surely.
I got a chance to go on a long bike ride with my crew on Saturday morning in the rain. We rode to Ceylon and back - took us about two and a half hours. We were soaked by the time we got to Ceylon...but luckily it was warm enough that it didn't matter. No lack of excitement during the trip...I was riding with one of the guys up ahead of the other three, and I had just commented that I was getting tired. Not two minutes later, we rode past a farm that had a german shepherd sitting in the yard, who, upon seeing us, started barking and running down the ditch. My friend said, 'You got anything left? Because you had better find some gas...' to which I replied that I thought he'd just run along with us in the ditch. No more did the words come out of my mouth and the dog started running up the slope and on to the road...after me. I took off like a shot...and after half a minute of chasing us, he finally backed off. I think he was a couple feet from me at one point. So, I learned that even when you're tired, you can still go real fast if you've got the right motivation.
Today, amidst all that was going on, was a lot of fun. Seeing and hearing the kids talk about the mission trip again, seeing kids around at church again, and thinking about the mission trip again...made me think.
When we take part in mission experiences, when we take time to get to know the stories of others, when we listen to the hearts of the people we encounter - we begin to put names with faces...and we can no longer claim ignorance about the situations that present themselves around us. We have to act...we need to act. By then, it's all we can do. ~
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Friday, September 5, 2008
Backtracking - 8/28/08 - Life on the Rez - Day Six - - -
After one final stop at the coffee shop before we left, we packed up at the center and got ready to head out. Karen came in and out of the room a few times, handing out tokens of thanks to each of us as she came. I ended up with a beautiful bracelet made out of dyed porcupine quills - a perfect gift.
We said our goodbyes and prepared to leave, knowing that a piece of each of our hearts would indeed remain at the center long after we left. I belive we felt empowered, knowing that our work here was not really finished, and that each of us still had a responsibility to carry out what had been started.
It was a long drive home - spent thinking about all the events of the week.
I think Karen summed it up well:
"God's blessings abound - "God's work and our hands - pass them around and as God works through us, indeed our hearts and minds are renewed and we are transformed. Thank you for sharing your hearts and minds with ust at Pine Ridge - take a piece of ours with you as you continue your life of giving and sharing with others. Blessings, Pastor Karen."
God bless our "broken" hearts.
We said our goodbyes and prepared to leave, knowing that a piece of each of our hearts would indeed remain at the center long after we left. I belive we felt empowered, knowing that our work here was not really finished, and that each of us still had a responsibility to carry out what had been started.
It was a long drive home - spent thinking about all the events of the week.
I think Karen summed it up well:
"God's blessings abound - "God's work and our hands - pass them around and as God works through us, indeed our hearts and minds are renewed and we are transformed. Thank you for sharing your hearts and minds with ust at Pine Ridge - take a piece of ours with you as you continue your life of giving and sharing with others. Blessings, Pastor Karen."
God bless our "broken" hearts.
Backtracking - 8/27/08 - Life on the Rez - Day Five - - -
Wednesday - and our last day at the work site. We went to bed the night before excited, because we thought we were going to be able to bring our lunches to the work site, and have more time there to work. Turns out that we had lunch plans again, but either way, we were going to make the morning worthwhile. After a stop at the Sioux Nation to pick up a few final supplies (including a speaker for music!), we headed out to the church. My job for the day was to help paint the door that led to the storm shelter. Tina painted a base coat of primer on the door, and then I started work painting a medicine wheel design on the door. After realizing that I'd picked up two red cans of paint and no yellow, I phoned a very broken call in to Barry to pick up some yellow. After goofing a couple times, I got the design laid out on the door, and finished the work. Two of the guys spent the morning picking up a trailer and a skid loader so that we could dig a hole to pour a cement pad for the ramp, and also, to put the bell back up on its stand.
Replacing the bell turned out to be one of the most powerful things that happened that day. After working to get the braces set, we picked up the bell with the skid loader and hoisted it up, lined up the notches for it to sit in, and jostled it into place. We got the clapper straight, and pulled the string, and the bell sounded loud and clear across the plains once again. Tina remarked that she got chills seeing it drop into place, and I get chills as I type this now. It seemed to mark the culmination of our week, a group effort to do something that would somehow make a difference, no matter how small.
We got back that afternoon and ended up doing lunch ourselves, and even having a break before the kids arrived. We got to play with them one last time before we would leave, and then sat together with them for a worship service. It was such a wonderful experience to see them worshipping together, and even getting into the worship as they helped to lead it. We then ate with them, which also turned out to be one of the most memorable nights of the week, when I was put in my place by a seven year old that told me I had "fat legs full of hotdogs." Oh Stefani...
After supper, we drove out to a farm, where the grandfather of a couple of the kids raises buffalo. We hopped into the safari bus, and bounced across the country side looking for the buffalo. When we did find them, these gentle giants ambled right up to the windows of the bus where we fed them out of our hands. Oh, what an AWESOME experience. We drove back as the sun was setting, where we then gathered outside the house, and smudged ourselves with sage smoke before we went in to see and hear about a white buffalo calf that had been born on the farm a number of years before. You can read the story here:
http://www.crystalinks.com/buffalocalfwoman.html
The story was amazing to hear from him - he was an incredible story teller.
We finally had a chance to do a talking circle that night, where we gathered together and shared stories and thoughts about our week on the Rez. Only one of us was allowed to talk at a time, and we shared our hearts together, and something stuck out as Karen talked - how the indians believe that as we share time with each other, a piece of their heart stays with us, and a piece of our heart goes with them. It is in this way that we are all "broken" - with pieced together hearts from those that we come into contact with throughout our lives. They are constantly being remade, and in a way, I think that often times, the pieces of our hearts that we give away are only partially ours - other bits that have been added to ours are given away as well.
It truly is God's work, and we are given the ability to use our hands to carry it out.
Replacing the bell turned out to be one of the most powerful things that happened that day. After working to get the braces set, we picked up the bell with the skid loader and hoisted it up, lined up the notches for it to sit in, and jostled it into place. We got the clapper straight, and pulled the string, and the bell sounded loud and clear across the plains once again. Tina remarked that she got chills seeing it drop into place, and I get chills as I type this now. It seemed to mark the culmination of our week, a group effort to do something that would somehow make a difference, no matter how small.
We got back that afternoon and ended up doing lunch ourselves, and even having a break before the kids arrived. We got to play with them one last time before we would leave, and then sat together with them for a worship service. It was such a wonderful experience to see them worshipping together, and even getting into the worship as they helped to lead it. We then ate with them, which also turned out to be one of the most memorable nights of the week, when I was put in my place by a seven year old that told me I had "fat legs full of hotdogs." Oh Stefani...
After supper, we drove out to a farm, where the grandfather of a couple of the kids raises buffalo. We hopped into the safari bus, and bounced across the country side looking for the buffalo. When we did find them, these gentle giants ambled right up to the windows of the bus where we fed them out of our hands. Oh, what an AWESOME experience. We drove back as the sun was setting, where we then gathered outside the house, and smudged ourselves with sage smoke before we went in to see and hear about a white buffalo calf that had been born on the farm a number of years before. You can read the story here:
http://www.crystalinks.com/buffalocalfwoman.html
The story was amazing to hear from him - he was an incredible story teller.
We finally had a chance to do a talking circle that night, where we gathered together and shared stories and thoughts about our week on the Rez. Only one of us was allowed to talk at a time, and we shared our hearts together, and something stuck out as Karen talked - how the indians believe that as we share time with each other, a piece of their heart stays with us, and a piece of our heart goes with them. It is in this way that we are all "broken" - with pieced together hearts from those that we come into contact with throughout our lives. They are constantly being remade, and in a way, I think that often times, the pieces of our hearts that we give away are only partially ours - other bits that have been added to ours are given away as well.
It truly is God's work, and we are given the ability to use our hands to carry it out.
Backtracking - 8/26/08 - Life on the Rez - Day Four - - -
Tuesday started what felt like very early, and the guys in our work group had to go pick up some supplies, so after a quick breakfast, Tina and I took a walk down to Higher Ground - a local coffee shop. What greeted us there was awesome...it was like a little Italian villa tucked away in the Rez. It felt as if you were walking into another part of the world...and didn't feel at all like the area that surrounded it. Check it out here:
http://www.pineridgegospel.org/higherground/index.htm
After poring through the menu, we ordered our drinks and sat outside for a while, and I chatted about beginning ideas for a coffee shop that a friend and I have mused about trying to start in Fairmont.
It was a wonderful way to start the morning, and definitely not the last time we'd grace the doors of the shop. We came back and then loaded up to head out to the Church to do some more work for the day. We added the last few boards to the deck, and then after some coffee and cookies, we got to work putting together some of the pieces to repair the bell tower. I got an interesting bovine anatomy lesson through an old farm addage, and even though I wasn't sure I knew what I was doing, I tried my hand at making holes for the braces of the bell through some 4x4 pieces of lumber. Turns out I'm not exactly amazing at keeping the holes straight, but the bolts went in and held the braces just fine, thanks.
We finished up for the day and headed back, had lunch and headed over to Red Cloud School to learn about one of the Indian boarding schools in the area. We saw a beautiful chapel decorated with paintings from several artists of the stations of the cross. Larry, the former director of the Retreat Center came to supper that night and talked to us for a while...while we, exhausted from the week so far, struggled to stay awake, though what he was saying was fascinating. He discussed an ongoing effort to get a credit union established on the Reservation, something that would hopefully get some more money circulating in the reservation.
He spoke a lot about considering the attitudes we have when we encounter the things we do on the Reservation, and finished with a rendition of the story of the Feeding of the 5000 - encouraging us to consider that perhaps what was most important about the story was the effect the boy's gift had upon those who were present that day. Seeing the little boy give his simple offering may have been enough to spur others into giving what they could as well, taking one simple step and making something amazing possible.
The events from the week were starting to drain me - I was emotionally exhausted. I spent a lot of time trying to sort out in my head what had gone on, trying to figure out what I should be feeling as I encountered different situations. Seeing the kids grab for things whenever they got the chance and "taking advantage" of a system that is designed to get them the things they need and working to get just one more thing...is it a feeling of entitlement because that is how it has been, or is it a fear that they have to get everything they can because they don't know when the opportunity will arise again? Should we feel angry and defeated when we get stereotyped when we come into the Reservation because nothing seems to change when we leave again, or should we feel compelled to keep striving to find that one missing piece that will help things finally work together for change? I'm not sure there are specific answers for these questions, and if there are, I'm not sure I want them. Part of the mission experience that I find to be the most life changing is the discontent I feel when I go back home, not sure what to do with all that I have learned because I haven't really seen the whole picture.
I had a ping pong match with John, Tina, and Barry today, before the kids arrived. We laughed and gave each other grief, and had a blast. I love getting to know folks better, and so often these trips are about what we learn more than the actual work we have come to do, and about who we are with as we learn.
This cornerstone, this solid ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm...
http://www.pineridgegospel.org/higherground/index.htm
After poring through the menu, we ordered our drinks and sat outside for a while, and I chatted about beginning ideas for a coffee shop that a friend and I have mused about trying to start in Fairmont.
It was a wonderful way to start the morning, and definitely not the last time we'd grace the doors of the shop. We came back and then loaded up to head out to the Church to do some more work for the day. We added the last few boards to the deck, and then after some coffee and cookies, we got to work putting together some of the pieces to repair the bell tower. I got an interesting bovine anatomy lesson through an old farm addage, and even though I wasn't sure I knew what I was doing, I tried my hand at making holes for the braces of the bell through some 4x4 pieces of lumber. Turns out I'm not exactly amazing at keeping the holes straight, but the bolts went in and held the braces just fine, thanks.
We finished up for the day and headed back, had lunch and headed over to Red Cloud School to learn about one of the Indian boarding schools in the area. We saw a beautiful chapel decorated with paintings from several artists of the stations of the cross. Larry, the former director of the Retreat Center came to supper that night and talked to us for a while...while we, exhausted from the week so far, struggled to stay awake, though what he was saying was fascinating. He discussed an ongoing effort to get a credit union established on the Reservation, something that would hopefully get some more money circulating in the reservation.
He spoke a lot about considering the attitudes we have when we encounter the things we do on the Reservation, and finished with a rendition of the story of the Feeding of the 5000 - encouraging us to consider that perhaps what was most important about the story was the effect the boy's gift had upon those who were present that day. Seeing the little boy give his simple offering may have been enough to spur others into giving what they could as well, taking one simple step and making something amazing possible.
The events from the week were starting to drain me - I was emotionally exhausted. I spent a lot of time trying to sort out in my head what had gone on, trying to figure out what I should be feeling as I encountered different situations. Seeing the kids grab for things whenever they got the chance and "taking advantage" of a system that is designed to get them the things they need and working to get just one more thing...is it a feeling of entitlement because that is how it has been, or is it a fear that they have to get everything they can because they don't know when the opportunity will arise again? Should we feel angry and defeated when we get stereotyped when we come into the Reservation because nothing seems to change when we leave again, or should we feel compelled to keep striving to find that one missing piece that will help things finally work together for change? I'm not sure there are specific answers for these questions, and if there are, I'm not sure I want them. Part of the mission experience that I find to be the most life changing is the discontent I feel when I go back home, not sure what to do with all that I have learned because I haven't really seen the whole picture.
I had a ping pong match with John, Tina, and Barry today, before the kids arrived. We laughed and gave each other grief, and had a blast. I love getting to know folks better, and so often these trips are about what we learn more than the actual work we have come to do, and about who we are with as we learn.
This cornerstone, this solid ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm...
What a difference a day makes - - -
I read through the first post I wrote on Tuesday before I got ready to write this one...three days later, and it is amazing all that has happened in the last few days. Oh, and I finally went to the doctor - two weeks and two prescriptions later - and a diagnosis of pink eye and a sinus infection. Whee.
Wednesday night was so great. There were meetings going on left and right and the bustle that is characteristic of Wednesday nights is starting to return. It's so nice to hear voices around the church besides those of the staff - I love it when the halls are full of folks milling around. Wednesday night marked the kickoff of the confirmation season - with confirmation orientation. We had a full house down in the Fellowship Hall, and it was fun to see some of the faces that I haven't seen much since last spring, as much because I have been gone so often as anything. Steve and I got through the nuts and bolts of the handbook and then I went to my post in the back by all of the sign-up sheets, and a barrage of questions greeted me, parents and kids asking left and right about all of the things that were going on. I was thrilled to watch a couple of the sheets fill to almost half full, and hear the chatter of kids telling friends to come with them to different events.
After that meeting was my second of the night...an information meeting about the ELCA National Gathering that is coming up in July 2009. Much to my surprise, there were a number of kids that stuck around, many of whom were 9th graders...and I was thrilled. The kids that were there seemed very excited about it, as did the parents that were with them. We went through all the details, and now it is just a matter of seeing how many responses I get back.
The icing on the cake occurred after the meeting as I was wrapping things up and chatting with one of the girls who really wanted to go, and her dad had told her that he would give her part of the money for the trip, but that if they went as a family to the Bahamas later that year, she wouldn't be able to come, that the Gathering would be her trip instead. She shrugged it off, saying, that's ok. I stopped and turned to her and her father and said, "You have no idea what it's like as a youth director to hear a kid say that..." to which her dad responded, yeah, she's been there before though, and I said that it didn't matter, that is still a big concession to make. I love it when kids get it...
Oh, and we are now full up for confirmation small group leaders...awesome. And we have an attendance caller too...
So, I went upstairs and hung out in the back of the end of choir practice and sat in on their prayers, and went home that night feeling like a million bucks. The last couple days have been spent taking care of the aftermath, filing away papers, getting things sorted and organized for the coming weeks, and trying to keep everything sorted out in my head. The fall is a busy one...but I can't wait. Little surprises are everywhere, and after a wonderful conversation this afternoon that put a few things into perspective, I feel like I'm really ready for it. After all, it is challenges that make us stronger, obstacles that evoke our creativity, and successes that we hold on to that help us get through the more difficult times.
On Christ alone, my hope is found,
He is my light, my strength, my song...
Wednesday night was so great. There were meetings going on left and right and the bustle that is characteristic of Wednesday nights is starting to return. It's so nice to hear voices around the church besides those of the staff - I love it when the halls are full of folks milling around. Wednesday night marked the kickoff of the confirmation season - with confirmation orientation. We had a full house down in the Fellowship Hall, and it was fun to see some of the faces that I haven't seen much since last spring, as much because I have been gone so often as anything. Steve and I got through the nuts and bolts of the handbook and then I went to my post in the back by all of the sign-up sheets, and a barrage of questions greeted me, parents and kids asking left and right about all of the things that were going on. I was thrilled to watch a couple of the sheets fill to almost half full, and hear the chatter of kids telling friends to come with them to different events.
After that meeting was my second of the night...an information meeting about the ELCA National Gathering that is coming up in July 2009. Much to my surprise, there were a number of kids that stuck around, many of whom were 9th graders...and I was thrilled. The kids that were there seemed very excited about it, as did the parents that were with them. We went through all the details, and now it is just a matter of seeing how many responses I get back.
The icing on the cake occurred after the meeting as I was wrapping things up and chatting with one of the girls who really wanted to go, and her dad had told her that he would give her part of the money for the trip, but that if they went as a family to the Bahamas later that year, she wouldn't be able to come, that the Gathering would be her trip instead. She shrugged it off, saying, that's ok. I stopped and turned to her and her father and said, "You have no idea what it's like as a youth director to hear a kid say that..." to which her dad responded, yeah, she's been there before though, and I said that it didn't matter, that is still a big concession to make. I love it when kids get it...
Oh, and we are now full up for confirmation small group leaders...awesome. And we have an attendance caller too...
So, I went upstairs and hung out in the back of the end of choir practice and sat in on their prayers, and went home that night feeling like a million bucks. The last couple days have been spent taking care of the aftermath, filing away papers, getting things sorted and organized for the coming weeks, and trying to keep everything sorted out in my head. The fall is a busy one...but I can't wait. Little surprises are everywhere, and after a wonderful conversation this afternoon that put a few things into perspective, I feel like I'm really ready for it. After all, it is challenges that make us stronger, obstacles that evoke our creativity, and successes that we hold on to that help us get through the more difficult times.
On Christ alone, my hope is found,
He is my light, my strength, my song...
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Backtracking - 8/25/08 - Life on the Rez - Day Three - - -
Monday was our first real day of work - though the previous two days had already been incredibly eye opening experiences. We got up around the same time - about 7am, and ate breakfast and got ready. We headed out to Makasan to work on the ramp and deck outside the fellowship hall, and assessed what needed to be done over the course of the three days. After taking some time to look at the plans the other group had left us, we went to work finishing the deck, and I got to try my hand at the screw gun and helped put the tops and sides on the railings. It was Tina and I and the four guys plus Paul, Karen's husband. We finished all that we could that day, and needed to pick up supplies before we could finish the rest of the railings, and work on the bell tower also. Over the course of the morning, I got attacked by a mama bird when I was trying to take pictures of her babies, and also got to meet a rather large snake, at least four feet long, that decided to grace us with its presence when it surprised Barry and crawled out from under a couple boards that were laying on the ground.
That afternoon, we had lunch at a place called Bette's Kitchen, a little place out in the country that was a restaurant run out of a woman's house. We ordered our food and then headed outside, and drank in the landscape. It was beautiful - from our vantage point, you could really see why the area was called Pine Ridge. We ate our amazing lunch (and had some of the best chicken fried steak I've ever eaten), and then went for a quick hike up a little hill behind the restaurant and took some pictures.
After that, we headed back to the retreat center to get ready for the kids to come, and got ready to play. It was a blast hanging out with them - they were amazingly open to us as we played pool and foosball with them, played blocks, and Roger and John got taught how to use the Skip-It. We also met Delane NoNeck, a resident haunt of the retreat center that greeted all of us by checking our pulses and temperatures. Before we knew it, the kids were heading home, and we got ready for the evening, heading out to the 70's wounded knee site to meet Kelly Lookinghorse, our guide.
We got a briefing before entering the grounds, and then were each handed a pinch of tobacco for a small ceremony while we were inside. Kelly sang a song, and then he said a prayer and instructed us to raise our hands up to heaven, and then sprinkle the tobacco on the ground. We got a chance to look around the cemetary a bit, and then headed back to the retreat center for supper. It was an intense experience, and on the way back, we passed some more of the sunflower fields, and Barry mentioned that at some point, he felt like we needed to take a photo of me in one of them, and what better time than now? So, we pulled over on the side of the road, and spent some time taking photos in the field of sunflowers. It was great to lighten the mood a bit.
The evening was spent hearing stories from Kelly and his wife Susie - a mentally and emotionally exhausting evening. It was clear from his voice and his tone that he had not progressed as far as Will had in his healing - hints of bitterness and anger were frequent as he told his stories. He made comments about things like the fact that there was plenty of work to be done, and yet no jobs, that we as "white men" are enablers that come on to the reservation to save the sinners and feel closer to God. He even said at one point that he wants someone to tell him what he did wrong, so he can tell his grandkids why they had to suffer for so long.
The night was both frustrating and enlightening, and definitely made me think a lot. Some of the other folks on the trip were angry about what he had to say and took what he said with a grain of salt. What he said was difficult to hear - but after I heard him talk about how the indians stereotype the white people that come on to the reservations, it was also eye opening. It is a difficult thing to understand what it means to be stereotyped, especially when that isn't something that normally happens to us, or affects us much if it does happen. It it powerful to walk in someone elses shoes for a while, and to come to understand what it means to feel for a bit the way others do most of their lives.
That afternoon, we had lunch at a place called Bette's Kitchen, a little place out in the country that was a restaurant run out of a woman's house. We ordered our food and then headed outside, and drank in the landscape. It was beautiful - from our vantage point, you could really see why the area was called Pine Ridge. We ate our amazing lunch (and had some of the best chicken fried steak I've ever eaten), and then went for a quick hike up a little hill behind the restaurant and took some pictures.
After that, we headed back to the retreat center to get ready for the kids to come, and got ready to play. It was a blast hanging out with them - they were amazingly open to us as we played pool and foosball with them, played blocks, and Roger and John got taught how to use the Skip-It. We also met Delane NoNeck, a resident haunt of the retreat center that greeted all of us by checking our pulses and temperatures. Before we knew it, the kids were heading home, and we got ready for the evening, heading out to the 70's wounded knee site to meet Kelly Lookinghorse, our guide.
We got a briefing before entering the grounds, and then were each handed a pinch of tobacco for a small ceremony while we were inside. Kelly sang a song, and then he said a prayer and instructed us to raise our hands up to heaven, and then sprinkle the tobacco on the ground. We got a chance to look around the cemetary a bit, and then headed back to the retreat center for supper. It was an intense experience, and on the way back, we passed some more of the sunflower fields, and Barry mentioned that at some point, he felt like we needed to take a photo of me in one of them, and what better time than now? So, we pulled over on the side of the road, and spent some time taking photos in the field of sunflowers. It was great to lighten the mood a bit.
The evening was spent hearing stories from Kelly and his wife Susie - a mentally and emotionally exhausting evening. It was clear from his voice and his tone that he had not progressed as far as Will had in his healing - hints of bitterness and anger were frequent as he told his stories. He made comments about things like the fact that there was plenty of work to be done, and yet no jobs, that we as "white men" are enablers that come on to the reservation to save the sinners and feel closer to God. He even said at one point that he wants someone to tell him what he did wrong, so he can tell his grandkids why they had to suffer for so long.
The night was both frustrating and enlightening, and definitely made me think a lot. Some of the other folks on the trip were angry about what he had to say and took what he said with a grain of salt. What he said was difficult to hear - but after I heard him talk about how the indians stereotype the white people that come on to the reservations, it was also eye opening. It is a difficult thing to understand what it means to be stereotyped, especially when that isn't something that normally happens to us, or affects us much if it does happen. It it powerful to walk in someone elses shoes for a while, and to come to understand what it means to feel for a bit the way others do most of their lives.
Backtracking - 8/24/08 - Life on the Rez - Day Two - - -
We woke up on Sunday morning around 6:45, got ready for the day, and headed out to the kitchen to gather and eat breakfast. We also met Gabby that morning - a man who lives nearby that stops in every morning for devotions and breakfast. He was fun to talk to - full of life and wisdom from the things he has encountered during his life. One of the comments he made that morning also stuck with me - he was asked what his son BJ was doing these days, and he answered, "the same as everyone else - nothing."
We left for church around 10am, to Makasan Church - about a 20 minute drive away. We had been asked if we would be willing to share a song during the service, so we decided to do "On Christ Alone," and I played guitar. When we arrived at the church, the kids quickly found a snake on the ground, a little baby one that they carted around and eventually stuck in a water bottle with a hole poked in the lid. I snapped some pictures, and then we went into church. Turns out the thing may have been poisonous, we're still not really sure. :)
The church was beautiful, relatively small, and our group comprised about a third of those in attendance. Most of the attendees for the day were youth - which was interesting to see. I got called forward for the children's message, a play on the message in the Gospel when Jesus asks Peter, "Who do you say that I am?"
It was so interesting watching the way the service played out, watching four people come forward and sing as the church choir, singing hymns acapella, even getting to help with the Sunday School class which was led by the pastor's wife. We filled out a number of worksheets with a group of kids that ranged in age from 3 or 4 to around 14. There was a baptism during the service that I didn't get a chance to see (Sunday School was during the service), and also a point where the pastor asked for prayers from the congregation - and many were offered.
Asa - the pastor - gave a children's message that was something of a mini sermon - and made a pretty good point about how we can't tell what a person does just by simply looking at them (the reason I was called forward), by referencing an old TV show. He had this quiet wisdom about him.
After the service was done, we brought our plate full of sandwiches and joined a potluck hosted by the baptismal family, and got a chance to meet some of the other church members and talk to some of them and their children. We also got a tour of the new fellowship hall, the building that we would be working on over the course of the next few days.
After lunch, we headed back to the Retreat Center and cleaned up and changed, and later headed to a pow wow in Rosebud, around a two hour drive away. We got there in time to have a look around and grab some supper, and then watch the Grand Entry - when all of the dancers came into the grand stand. It was a powerful thing to watch - to see the beautiful costumes, as well as the pride and intensity on the faces of the dancers. It was a treat to learn so much about the culture and get to see something so beautiful.
Another journal entry from that night:
"I think I've discovered that one of my desires for the week is to love and serve the others that are on the trip - to get to know them - to learn from them. I had a great time talking to Dick on the way home tonight - which served the double purpose of keeping him awake - so awesome."
Ecclesiastes 7:1-14, 15-29
We left for church around 10am, to Makasan Church - about a 20 minute drive away. We had been asked if we would be willing to share a song during the service, so we decided to do "On Christ Alone," and I played guitar. When we arrived at the church, the kids quickly found a snake on the ground, a little baby one that they carted around and eventually stuck in a water bottle with a hole poked in the lid. I snapped some pictures, and then we went into church. Turns out the thing may have been poisonous, we're still not really sure. :)
The church was beautiful, relatively small, and our group comprised about a third of those in attendance. Most of the attendees for the day were youth - which was interesting to see. I got called forward for the children's message, a play on the message in the Gospel when Jesus asks Peter, "Who do you say that I am?"
It was so interesting watching the way the service played out, watching four people come forward and sing as the church choir, singing hymns acapella, even getting to help with the Sunday School class which was led by the pastor's wife. We filled out a number of worksheets with a group of kids that ranged in age from 3 or 4 to around 14. There was a baptism during the service that I didn't get a chance to see (Sunday School was during the service), and also a point where the pastor asked for prayers from the congregation - and many were offered.
Asa - the pastor - gave a children's message that was something of a mini sermon - and made a pretty good point about how we can't tell what a person does just by simply looking at them (the reason I was called forward), by referencing an old TV show. He had this quiet wisdom about him.
After the service was done, we brought our plate full of sandwiches and joined a potluck hosted by the baptismal family, and got a chance to meet some of the other church members and talk to some of them and their children. We also got a tour of the new fellowship hall, the building that we would be working on over the course of the next few days.
After lunch, we headed back to the Retreat Center and cleaned up and changed, and later headed to a pow wow in Rosebud, around a two hour drive away. We got there in time to have a look around and grab some supper, and then watch the Grand Entry - when all of the dancers came into the grand stand. It was a powerful thing to watch - to see the beautiful costumes, as well as the pride and intensity on the faces of the dancers. It was a treat to learn so much about the culture and get to see something so beautiful.
Another journal entry from that night:
"I think I've discovered that one of my desires for the week is to love and serve the others that are on the trip - to get to know them - to learn from them. I had a great time talking to Dick on the way home tonight - which served the double purpose of keeping him awake - so awesome."
Ecclesiastes 7:1-14, 15-29
Backtracking - 8/23/08 - Life on the Rez...Day One - - -
On August 23, nine people gathered in the Grace parking lot at 8am, ready to head off to Pine Ridge, SD, for a six day long mission trip on the reservation. We loaded into two cars and took off down the interstate. Some had been there before and had some idea of what we would encounter, but by the time we arrived and started jumping in, it was clear that none of us were completely prepared for all the things we would learn and encounter during our week on the Rez.
We got to the Retreat Center in Pine Ridge around 4, unloaded and met some of the kids that were still there from drop in. I met a little girl named Alanie, and helped her make a hat out of a piece of tag board. :) We got settled in to our rooms in just enough time to start making supper. We made a run to the supermarket and got tacos ready, ate, and then prepared to welcome our first guest speaker, Will Peters, a musician and resident Lakota Indian, and also his daughter.
Will was a fountain of knowledge and insight - and one of the things he said that really struck me was "If you live your life as a man who benefits those around you, you're walking in the right way." Another thing he said was "The ones who have power are the ones that need to be protected - women, children, and the elderly." Both of these statemenst stuck in my mind as I listened to the rest of what he had to say, and got to hear his heart as he talked about his time spent as a teacher and as a councilman - and the struggles he faced along the way. His passion for care and respect for women, children, and the elderly was evident as he spoke. Much of what he stands for centers around these things.
His voice often contained hints of sadness and anger as he spoke about Pine Ridge and about being an Indian - but the primary tone of his voice was one of overcoming those other feelings, about realizing that you have two options - to dwell on the past and wallow in your own pity, or to get up, brush yourself off, and keep on living. The life these Indian people faced 40 years ago during the second wounded knee was difficult, senseless, and painful. Will told these stories so that we could learn from them, and thel told us what he had learned from dealing with them. He told us of the 85 percent unemployment that permeates the Reservation - and the devastation it brings.
Will had a tattoo of a turtle on his arm, and as he was finishing his talk with us, he referred to it, telling us the meaning it had. The turtle was representative of "Turtle Island" - the name the natives had for the United States - for North America. Around the border of the shell were the colors of the medicine wheel - the colors that represent the different "tribes" that make up the world - Black for the African races, Yellow for the Asian races, Red for the Indian races, and then, faded, and barely visible, white, for the English/Caucasian races. As we listened to him tell us about the colors, I, and I would guess many of the others thought he was making reference to the fact that we as whites were fading away, fading into the background as we had tried to to with the Indians during our attempt at assimilating and killing many of them over the course of history. But, to our surprise, he said simply (and with a gleam in his eye) that it was only fading because the tattoo artist used bad white ink. It was this sort of hidden humor that he spoke, and it made us listen to what he had to say.
He played us a couple of songs before he left, and we spent some time talking to him as well. As I got ready for bed that night, exhausted both mentally and physically, I started thinking about the day, and the week that was to come. I love getting to go on mission trips - not lead, but just go. I love learning from the people I am on them with, and getting a chance to get to know some of my "peers" a bit better through the process. I wrote this in my journal that night:
"I want time to learn from my "elders" this week, to take time to learn from my mentors and friends. Talking to Terry during this whole process has made me more keenly aware of the need to learn from all whom we encounter, to be attentive to and respond to the needs of our peers and friends. We stand to gain so much..."
We got to the Retreat Center in Pine Ridge around 4, unloaded and met some of the kids that were still there from drop in. I met a little girl named Alanie, and helped her make a hat out of a piece of tag board. :) We got settled in to our rooms in just enough time to start making supper. We made a run to the supermarket and got tacos ready, ate, and then prepared to welcome our first guest speaker, Will Peters, a musician and resident Lakota Indian, and also his daughter.
Will was a fountain of knowledge and insight - and one of the things he said that really struck me was "If you live your life as a man who benefits those around you, you're walking in the right way." Another thing he said was "The ones who have power are the ones that need to be protected - women, children, and the elderly." Both of these statemenst stuck in my mind as I listened to the rest of what he had to say, and got to hear his heart as he talked about his time spent as a teacher and as a councilman - and the struggles he faced along the way. His passion for care and respect for women, children, and the elderly was evident as he spoke. Much of what he stands for centers around these things.
His voice often contained hints of sadness and anger as he spoke about Pine Ridge and about being an Indian - but the primary tone of his voice was one of overcoming those other feelings, about realizing that you have two options - to dwell on the past and wallow in your own pity, or to get up, brush yourself off, and keep on living. The life these Indian people faced 40 years ago during the second wounded knee was difficult, senseless, and painful. Will told these stories so that we could learn from them, and thel told us what he had learned from dealing with them. He told us of the 85 percent unemployment that permeates the Reservation - and the devastation it brings.
Will had a tattoo of a turtle on his arm, and as he was finishing his talk with us, he referred to it, telling us the meaning it had. The turtle was representative of "Turtle Island" - the name the natives had for the United States - for North America. Around the border of the shell were the colors of the medicine wheel - the colors that represent the different "tribes" that make up the world - Black for the African races, Yellow for the Asian races, Red for the Indian races, and then, faded, and barely visible, white, for the English/Caucasian races. As we listened to him tell us about the colors, I, and I would guess many of the others thought he was making reference to the fact that we as whites were fading away, fading into the background as we had tried to to with the Indians during our attempt at assimilating and killing many of them over the course of history. But, to our surprise, he said simply (and with a gleam in his eye) that it was only fading because the tattoo artist used bad white ink. It was this sort of hidden humor that he spoke, and it made us listen to what he had to say.
He played us a couple of songs before he left, and we spent some time talking to him as well. As I got ready for bed that night, exhausted both mentally and physically, I started thinking about the day, and the week that was to come. I love getting to go on mission trips - not lead, but just go. I love learning from the people I am on them with, and getting a chance to get to know some of my "peers" a bit better through the process. I wrote this in my journal that night:
"I want time to learn from my "elders" this week, to take time to learn from my mentors and friends. Talking to Terry during this whole process has made me more keenly aware of the need to learn from all whom we encounter, to be attentive to and respond to the needs of our peers and friends. We stand to gain so much..."
It truly is the little things - - -
Someone walking down the street reading a book. A pile of apples at the base of a tree. Two young boys riding bikes up and down the block. A rather large man standing outside his house, shirtless, checking the mail. A yellow school bus heading back from its rounds. None of these things are anything really worth noting, but, I have seen each of them over the course of the morning. So, why did I note them here? I'm not really sure.
Today is the first day of school. The first day of the fall schedule. The second day of September, but who's counting? :) I have been telling folks all day that I am in denial that it is September already, but what can I do about it? Nothing, really, except jump headlong into it. I got a chance this morning to talk to two friends of mine, one who was on his way to work in Little Falls, the other who was wating for a ride at a seminary library in South Africa. It made my day to talk to them both...again, just tiny things that happened during my morning, except that these two things really made a difference in my day.
I guess the others did too, if they stayed in my mind long enough to make it to my fingers and out onto the keyboard as I typed this...but again, I'm not really sure why. I got to talk to Terry through a couple text messages this past weekend, long enough to learn that he is in town for the week, and I am still hoping that I am going to get a chance to see him while he's around. Sounds like things are still going well, and that he continues to be a busy beaver also.
I still have the mission trip to South Dakota spinning in my mind, and have to smile when folks ask me how it was. More posts on that trip later, I wanted to make sure I posted one about today first. It feels like I have been gone for weeks - this is the first day I've been in the office since Friday the 22, not counting Sunday for a couple hours, when I managed to sleep through two alarms, wake up at 8:59, and still shower and make it to church by 9:25. Today felt both a bit subdued and rather bustling - it's quiet in the office today, and the rain and cloudiness outside seems to be adding to the somber mood of those in the office.
A devotion during staff meeting this morning caught my attention - parts of it that I have heard before, parts I have not. It read:
The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life.
Attitude, to me, is more important than facts.
It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do.
It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill.
It mill make or break a company, a church, a home.
The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for the day.
We cannot change our past, we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way.
We cannot change the inevitable.
The only thing we can do is play the one string we have, and that is our attitude.
I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it.
And so it is with you, we are in the charge of our "Attitude".
These are the words of Chuck Swindoll, a pastor and author. These words are so true, and hold so much power. Attitude really is everything, especially when we face changes, difficulties, or losses.
I am excited for what the coming days, weeks, and months will hold - and cannot wait to see what is in store.
<><
Today is the first day of school. The first day of the fall schedule. The second day of September, but who's counting? :) I have been telling folks all day that I am in denial that it is September already, but what can I do about it? Nothing, really, except jump headlong into it. I got a chance this morning to talk to two friends of mine, one who was on his way to work in Little Falls, the other who was wating for a ride at a seminary library in South Africa. It made my day to talk to them both...again, just tiny things that happened during my morning, except that these two things really made a difference in my day.
I guess the others did too, if they stayed in my mind long enough to make it to my fingers and out onto the keyboard as I typed this...but again, I'm not really sure why. I got to talk to Terry through a couple text messages this past weekend, long enough to learn that he is in town for the week, and I am still hoping that I am going to get a chance to see him while he's around. Sounds like things are still going well, and that he continues to be a busy beaver also.
I still have the mission trip to South Dakota spinning in my mind, and have to smile when folks ask me how it was. More posts on that trip later, I wanted to make sure I posted one about today first. It feels like I have been gone for weeks - this is the first day I've been in the office since Friday the 22, not counting Sunday for a couple hours, when I managed to sleep through two alarms, wake up at 8:59, and still shower and make it to church by 9:25. Today felt both a bit subdued and rather bustling - it's quiet in the office today, and the rain and cloudiness outside seems to be adding to the somber mood of those in the office.
A devotion during staff meeting this morning caught my attention - parts of it that I have heard before, parts I have not. It read:
The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life.
Attitude, to me, is more important than facts.
It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do.
It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill.
It mill make or break a company, a church, a home.
The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for the day.
We cannot change our past, we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way.
We cannot change the inevitable.
The only thing we can do is play the one string we have, and that is our attitude.
I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it.
And so it is with you, we are in the charge of our "Attitude".
These are the words of Chuck Swindoll, a pastor and author. These words are so true, and hold so much power. Attitude really is everything, especially when we face changes, difficulties, or losses.
I am excited for what the coming days, weeks, and months will hold - and cannot wait to see what is in store.
<><
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