Month: March 2018

The seven Americans of Casa Shalom led our first chapel service together this past Friday. It may not sound like a big deal, but it was! Most chapel services are led by a pastor, from a Guatemalan church visiting for a few hours, or a group of Americans visiting for the week (which usually includes a pastor).

From planning to production, everything was on our 14 shoulders. One was in charge of planning and giving a message, another in charge of opening and closing in prayer, a few to pass out materials and sit with the kids during service to make sure all were paying attention, and another for worship. That one fell on me.

Throughout the week, I’ve spent two or three hours daily listening to Spanish music, watching various lyric videos, making lyric sideshows, learning and creating my own hand motions, and practicing two songs on the piano over and over and over again, in Spanish and English. Come Friday morning, I felt confident in the work I put into the two songs with motions, two songs on the piano, and the lyrics onscreen for the kids to follow along with. I was ready!

The keyboard was driven up the hill at 8:30 (for service to start at 10), I got a chance to practice, I got my laptop set up, and I had asked one of the teen boys to help me with the sound system and video. All was going as planned. We turned on music to play over the speakers from my computer as kids came in, yet we couldn’t figure out the video. No matter how many times we re-plugged each wire, changed inputs on the TV screens, or had multiple sets of eyes looking everything over, it still wouldn’t come on.

It all hit me there. All the minutes I’ve spent this week meant nothing if the kids can’t follow along onscreen with me. I tried to pick well known songs, yet I know most of them probably won’t recognize them or be able to sing with me if they don’t know the words or can’t read them on the screens. I was almost at a point of tears, sitting at the back of the chapel just a few minutes before service began.

We joined hands in prayer before it all began. I felt a weight come off me knowing that whatever comes off service is all in God’s hands.

After the opening and prayer, I took center stage. Black TV screens were hanging overhead, so all eyes were focused on me, about 120 of them! The first two songs were those with motions, piano to come at the end of service. Without being drawn to the colorful lyrics coming up on the TV, their heart was fully into mirroring my motions. I felt like it went better not having lyrics onscreen, so the kids would be more involved in dancing and praising through actions. Hey, I might’ve missed a few moves in the two songs and don’t have the greatest rhythm, but I got most of the older boys to dance, so I felt I did pretty good!

The message was shared, and after, each child got a few minutes to write a prayer to God, the message being on how we can talk with God. I put on a few quiet worship songs to set the mood and fill the dead air, then got up on stage to adjust the mic, the volume, and the sheet music for my two piano songs. Those, I really wish we could’ve had the lyrics up for. I’ve been coughing for the past few days and wasn’t confident in my singing strength. The piano wasn’t hooked up correctly, so we were having to use a microphone as close as we could to the piano speakers. We realized we ran long, and didn’t have time to squeeze in another song (or two) before service ended. I was saved from playing the piano this week, but I’m looking forward to playing at our next service(s).

The lyrics might’ve not shown up during my dance performances, but the attention was focused on me and following my motions. The lyrics wouldn’t show up for the piano segment, nor would the piano hook up correctly, and as my voice quickly declined, the time was spent elsewhere allowing the children to write out their prayers to God.

The service might not have gone the way that I expected it to, but just like always, God proves He is good and brings the best out of anything He calls upon us. Each of the 7 of us used our (sometimes limited) strengths, talents, and abilities to share a portion of the kingdom, and God was truly there shining through us all.

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters,”

Colossians 3:23

(I thought this verse was fitting, and it also lined up with the date!)

Last week, I got to share a little over a week with family, friends, and loved ones in Dallas. I got to camp out in the back yard, meet a new four-legged sister of mine, explore the city of Fort Wort, go to my first NBA game, purchase a bunch of donations to bring back to the kids, bake almost everyday, and most memorable of all, participate in a 5k run and/or walk.

This was not like any other 5k, as it is known as “the happiest 5k on the planet!” The color run. About every km completed, volunteers would shoot you with colored dust. It kinda felt like a mix of baby powder, baking soda, and powdered sugar/flour. But, it didn’t taste so great!

A few friends and I piled into Dallas’ public transportation train, since we knew it would be easier than trying to park there, fighting with traffic, and covering the inside of our car with colorful powder after the run was over. We weren’t the only ones.

The first runners started at 8. The train we were on arrived at the station at 7:53. It was full of fellow participants. Men and women wearing their 5k shirts, kids with bandanas, peel and stick tattoos covering their arms and legs, and so many more with 4 digit race numbers pinned to their shirt. It was clear to see who was going to the 5k. We all followed the crowd and made it to the starting line.

After a lot of running, some walking, and experiencing several color clouds, we finished in 46(ish) minutes (according to my watch I wasn’t paying too close attention to!) Let’s just say, I couldn’t have made it over the finish line in that time without friends pushing me, encouraging me, and sticking with me. Booths were set up beyond the finish to grab water, protein snacks, a medal for each runner, a baggie of colored powder (to again cover ourselves with color), and a few volunteers with leaf blowers on the way out to help with the cleaning.

Slowly but surely, we hit the booths we wanted to visit, rehydrated, took too many selfies, and headed out to catch the train back home. Some volunteers and fellow “athletes” also joined us on this train. Seats were colored, sneaker tracks filled the aisle floor, and we were all worn out, hot, sore, and tired from the previous two hours.

As we got closer to our final stop, more and more people got off the train. Soon we were the only participants on, needing to go to almost the end of the track to get home. The fellow train riders noticed the colorful, tired, worn out state we were in and asked us where we came from, why are we in our current condition. They could see something different about us and were curious to know.

I entered the house, with my colorful socks and shoes left outside on the doorstep. As much fun as it was to cover myself in powder, a refreshing shower was calling my name. The dirt may be gone but the memories, laughter, and soreness sticks with me 5 days later. I am different because of that morning.

I got to thinking. As it was easy to see who was participating in the race, is it easy to see who is part of the church? Do they stick together, stand out in a crowd, and follow one another’s lead? When people see me who aren’t involved with the run (faith), will they notice something is different about me? My character? Actions? Words? Will they be curious to ask me where I’ve been? Will things be different because of my presence, whether it be some extra color on the train or an answered prayer? Will I be willing to assist another when they start doubting themselves and their abilities? Will I stop and grab the cup of water (living water) halfway through the run knowing that it will strengthen me for the second half? Will I be willing to fight through the hardships, the pain, the struggles, the lack of confidence in myself to reach the joy to come when I cross the finish line?

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
2 Timothy 4:7

Living with almost 90 kids, birthdays are a big deal. Some have it memorized when their birthday is, others come to the office to specifically ask us when their birthday is, and often times, kids will come in having no birth certificates or any idea when their birthday is. We can only guess based on physical traits, sizes, and learning abilities.

This week, I was blessed to be able to celebrate my birthday with a bunch of hugs, giggles, and excitement. One of the house mothers’ birthdays was also this week, the Monday, two days prior to mine. The kids are usually celebrated somehow on their birthday, that the house parents often get missed or celebrated a little less. I did devotions with her boys Tuesday evening, and decided to bring a bundt cake sliced into 14 pieces for us all to celebrate her.  We all sung Happy birthday. Some were singing to me, others were singing to the house mom, that when it came time to sing “Happy birthday to <insert name>” it didn’t sound like we knew what we were doing. But at the end of it, they all counted up to 24 to celebrate my 24th year of life (only after they asked me midway through how old I was turning).

Wednesday morning, I walked down to the office, with most everyone occupied inside their house. I was about 50 feet from the boys house, when I heard a bunch of feet coming in my direction. I turn around to see about 7 of them running full speed, shouting “Feliz Cumpleaños” with their arms open wide. I was almost knocked down to the floor with the amount of love I received. They noticed that I had my ukulele in hand (for worship therapy) and each took turns strumming the strings and singing me their own version of “Happy birthday”.

From there, I got to help with therapy. Plan B. We worshipped with hand motions with pre-recorded music (since the singer lost her voice and couldn’t participate this morning), learned about Daniel in the Lions’ Den, and had some free time to visit whichever station(s) they wanted to take part in today. I was in charge of leading horse therapy, where I was able to teach two boys how to comb, brush, feed, and make friends with the horse.

Lunchtime came around, and it was the first time I got to see some of the girls that day. One had her arms open wide walking slowly towards me, using her best voice to sing me “Happy birthday” (in English). She arrived at the orphanage a little over a month ago, and was excited to celebrate me today. Others surrounded me with hugs and wishing me a happy birthday.

I got some work done in the afternoon, and got the word that worship night was cancelled for tonight (scheduled every other Wednesday). I was kinda disappointed, knowing I had a cake and two pans of bars ready in my fridge to share at the potluck. But, that doesn’t mean I can’t celebrate my birthday tonight, right?! Plan C.

Three of the American volunteers went to grab pizzas and told me not to make any dinner plans before they left. My spirits were lifted knowing that they still want to do something for me, even though plans changed for the evening. They left about 5:45, and I got a chance to make my birthday phone calls and respond to messages I’ve received throughout the day.

They got back around 6:30, and all met up inside the neighbor’s house to set things up, while I was busy getting things done in the room. I headed over at 7, and they had balloons, a “happy birthday” banner up, and dinner all ready. Plan D. Pizza changed to a local chicken restaurant after traffic was heavy due to road construction. But, they remembered that every time I go to that restaurant, I always get the burrito. So I got my favorite burrito.

While we were finishing eating, we heard the school bus get back with most of the kids (the next town over) around 7:45, after it left at 4:45 to pick them up (it usually leaves at 5:15 and arrives back at 6:30 for dinner). Poor kids! About 10 minutes later, I got a message from the house mother (whose birthday was Monday) that I left something in their house yesterday evening from devotions. So I left my party for what I think will be just a minute or two, and head down to grab whatever it was I left behind.

I knock on the door and hear lots of little voices excited for a knock. A few peeked out the window, then turned around to say to the others, “HARPER’S HERE!” That’s when I knew something was up! Plan E. I stood outside the door for about 6 minutes while I heard phrases such as “HIDE”, “SET OUT THE FOOD” and “SHHHHH” between the sound of a dozen pairs of feet running around the house. Lights were being turned off and on inside and outside the house and I could hear a bunch of excited laughter. I didn’t care about the waiting, knowing all the emotions hiding behind the door.

The house mom lets me into the dark house and tells me I forgot something as I am tackled by 11 kids. They had the rugs all laid out, the house was clean, “Happy birthday Harper” was stuck on the wall, and there was a wide variety of chips (Nachos with salsa/cheese, both puffy and thin cheetos, and cheese rings) for us to snack on, along with a 3 liter Coke. I was so full from my burrito, that I gave about half of my chips to the boys sitting nearest to me (felt bad declining food they brought just for me!) Half of them came up to me, put their arm around me and wished me a happy birthday, along with “God bless you”, “We love you”, “take care”, and a bunch of other sweet phrases. I was almost in tears!

I ran back up to the house, so the girls didn’t have to wait much longer for me to cut into the cake. By the time my piece of cake was eaten, I was full. Full of food, and full of love from those near and far, adults and kids, Guatemalans and Americans, staff and co-volunteers, friends and family. Thank you to all who helped me celebrate this week or wished me a happy birthday. It’s been a great celebration!

This Saturday, I was going to spend the night at one of the volunteers houses so they could take me to the airport Sunday morning. Plan F. They are throwing a birthday party for one of their friends on Saturday afternoon and asked me to tag along, so I could also be celebrated! So, I will be spending tonight (Friday night) and Saturday night at their house before my flight out Sunday. My birthday is already over, but the celebration hasn’t stopped!