Here are some pictures from Steven and Mauree's Wedding, my birthday, and John Paul's Second Birthday Party! ENJOY!!
Monday, June 15, 2009
Pictures from my birthday and other important events!
Here are some pictures from Steven and Mauree's Wedding, my birthday, and John Paul's Second Birthday Party! ENJOY!!
Memories from Honduras
Found this old email from Honduras...it brought back memories and I thought I'd share!
Dear friends and family:
Praise and blessings in our Lord and Savior Jesús Christ! Sorry that it has been so long since I´ve written. I´ve been back in Honduras now for a little over a month. Had a slight snag in returning from Guatemala. It was hard to leave Guatemala especially since we left right after the terrible flooding and destruction of what is still a beautiful country. After leaving Guatemala we got stuck in Copan (right inside the Honduras boarder) for a day because of a campesinos strike. It feels like just yesterday that I arrived, and yet like I´ve lived here my whole life. So much has happened, every day something new happens. I´m in charge of sponsorship (meaning I spend a lot of time translating and typing information in the computer). I´m also running our middle school girls group Las Rosas de maria with Alyson (another volunteer). We´re also doing a Christmas pageant, I´m teaching music and dance classes. All in all it´s a wonderful experience. Doing home visits, evangelization, harder things than I would have thought.
The community here is beautiful. We are 7 women (4 Americans and 3 Hondurans) and three men. It’s odd and a bit humorous but it´s incredible how each person adds something to our house. My Spanish is much better and I can actually communicate now which is quite exciting.
As for me, well, God has been revealing many things to me in my heart lately. It´s hard to explain our life here…at times it is normal missionary life and yet there is no normal. It´s a daily struggle to be the empty vessel that God uses. How do you explain God´s love and will to a woman with three special needs children, who now might have cancer? And yet there is no need. It is she who continues to have faith- and we who struggle with the reality.
We´re do-ers and yet most of the time there´s nothing we can do. With so few resources we can´t help everyone but everyone needs help. The little girl with appendicitis needs food and bandages changed, there´s Claudia at our door with two black eyes. Daisy and her family need to get away from her abusive husband. But we have no place to put them, no resources, no safety to offer. When every day there´s a new emergency, another mother with a feverish baby standing at our front gate. It´s so easy to feel helpless.
We had a fiesta for all saints day, a rare evening of music, ice cream, and jump-roping (don´t ask). A night of lighthearted cheer that sends us soaring into the clouds only to be abruptly brought down to earth by desperate little voices and the clanging of the lock against our metal gate ¨CAROL!!¨ Little girls out past what should be their bedtime on streets not safe enough for us to walk at night. Their father is drunk. We call a relative who comes to get them. How can I be the same person after this?
I realize now again how lucky I am. I´m here “living in poverty” and yet still existing in my oasis of comfort and safety here in our house. There´s no angry drunk man coming home – the gates keep them out (usually). We know that tomorrow we will eat and that we will have a bed to sleep in the next night. Who am I to presume that I can help these people? I who have absolutely no understanding of their lives. I realize now that all I can do is pray and love- and I am mightily inadequate at that at times.
I have no concept of what it means to live like these people. Sick with strep the other day I was dropped off at San Benito (the clinic in our neighborhood) to see a doctor. I realize now that I selfishly expected to go right in (as we usually do). I was greatly surprised and distraught (much to my shame) when I realized Erika and I were going to wait in line. I spent some time wallowing in my own self pity about how sick and tired I was. Praise God it didn´t take me long to realize what a jerk I was. Who am I to presume I´m more important than the people in line with me? My job is to serve them not to think myself above the line. By the time I got my number my attitude had changed. We began talking with the other people (mostly mothers with young children) all charming and just as sick and miserable as I was. I on the other hand would be driven back to my nice warm bed 7 blocks away while they would walk home (sometimes for hours) and go back to work because they have no other option. How humbling to realize just how prideful I still am.
I came to Honduras thinking myself humble (I know what a joke). I now realize that I was still holding myself above others because I was going off to “save the world”. How wrong I was. God has been revealing to me that I am in fact nothing special other than what He does through me. Most of the time I feel hugely inadequate to do much of anything. Praise God!! I have prayed for humility and God is granting it to me. To live in a community of talented, holy, loving people is in fact one of the greatest challenges I´ve known as I am challenged daily to be more holy myself. To love more completely and freely in every circumstance and activity. Whether cleaning toilets, driving someone to town, or leading a girls group.
Behind the beauty of the mountains and the simplicity of life here how there is a fight going on for this country. The struggle between good and evil is at full force and I pray we can win. Some days I´m certain the battle has already been lost- and then I look at the youth we work with. Yes we feel helpless here but if we give up we´re taking away the opportunity they have to fight and to know someone is fighting with them. They are striving and fighting so hard to win- if we help just one our job is worth it- just one. But how do you let the other 99 go? I look at people like Erika who is a beautiful Honduran member of our community. At only 18 she has already fought the fight against her family, who are not Catholic, and who don´t approve of her work here. I can´t imagine fighting that battle.
And how do I- as someone who has only known love and boundless resources- offer anything to these people so beautiful and broken and yet closer to God than I could ever imagine. How beautiful they are- we who feel hopeless and they who continue to have faith- in us!
I realize now also how important our life of prayer is. It is so easy to get bogged down with all the things to be done- the people at the door, the programs to plan, and countless other activities- and yet it is prayer, mass, and time in front of the blessed sacrament that gives us hope.
“Ï have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble but take heart I have overcome the world.¨- 1 John
It is in admitting our weakness and inadequacy that we realize that we do nothing. We are not strong enough to help all these people- but Christ is and it is Him who works through us- if we let him.
As for me and my vocation, I am continuing to search for His holy and perfect will, and God willing will be going to visit the Franciscan Sisters of the Renewal in New York in the spring. Please pray for me as I do for all of you. These days I struggle to live the words of St. Paul of the Cross, ¨neither to suffer, nor to die, but only to turn perfectly to the will of God.¨ Yes life here is a challenge. Humbling and frustrating and rough- but beautiful and vale la pena (worthwhile) at the same time. What a challenge to daily try to die to yourself. I still walk back from mass at the friars every morning with the mountains greeting me and thank God that I am here- I am at home and I am at peace.
Dear friends and family:
Praise and blessings in our Lord and Savior Jesús Christ! Sorry that it has been so long since I´ve written. I´ve been back in Honduras now for a little over a month. Had a slight snag in returning from Guatemala. It was hard to leave Guatemala especially since we left right after the terrible flooding and destruction of what is still a beautiful country. After leaving Guatemala we got stuck in Copan (right inside the Honduras boarder) for a day because of a campesinos strike. It feels like just yesterday that I arrived, and yet like I´ve lived here my whole life. So much has happened, every day something new happens. I´m in charge of sponsorship (meaning I spend a lot of time translating and typing information in the computer). I´m also running our middle school girls group Las Rosas de maria with Alyson (another volunteer). We´re also doing a Christmas pageant, I´m teaching music and dance classes. All in all it´s a wonderful experience. Doing home visits, evangelization, harder things than I would have thought.
The community here is beautiful. We are 7 women (4 Americans and 3 Hondurans) and three men. It’s odd and a bit humorous but it´s incredible how each person adds something to our house. My Spanish is much better and I can actually communicate now which is quite exciting.
As for me, well, God has been revealing many things to me in my heart lately. It´s hard to explain our life here…at times it is normal missionary life and yet there is no normal. It´s a daily struggle to be the empty vessel that God uses. How do you explain God´s love and will to a woman with three special needs children, who now might have cancer? And yet there is no need. It is she who continues to have faith- and we who struggle with the reality.
We´re do-ers and yet most of the time there´s nothing we can do. With so few resources we can´t help everyone but everyone needs help. The little girl with appendicitis needs food and bandages changed, there´s Claudia at our door with two black eyes. Daisy and her family need to get away from her abusive husband. But we have no place to put them, no resources, no safety to offer. When every day there´s a new emergency, another mother with a feverish baby standing at our front gate. It´s so easy to feel helpless.
We had a fiesta for all saints day, a rare evening of music, ice cream, and jump-roping (don´t ask). A night of lighthearted cheer that sends us soaring into the clouds only to be abruptly brought down to earth by desperate little voices and the clanging of the lock against our metal gate ¨CAROL!!¨ Little girls out past what should be their bedtime on streets not safe enough for us to walk at night. Their father is drunk. We call a relative who comes to get them. How can I be the same person after this?
I realize now again how lucky I am. I´m here “living in poverty” and yet still existing in my oasis of comfort and safety here in our house. There´s no angry drunk man coming home – the gates keep them out (usually). We know that tomorrow we will eat and that we will have a bed to sleep in the next night. Who am I to presume that I can help these people? I who have absolutely no understanding of their lives. I realize now that all I can do is pray and love- and I am mightily inadequate at that at times.
I have no concept of what it means to live like these people. Sick with strep the other day I was dropped off at San Benito (the clinic in our neighborhood) to see a doctor. I realize now that I selfishly expected to go right in (as we usually do). I was greatly surprised and distraught (much to my shame) when I realized Erika and I were going to wait in line. I spent some time wallowing in my own self pity about how sick and tired I was. Praise God it didn´t take me long to realize what a jerk I was. Who am I to presume I´m more important than the people in line with me? My job is to serve them not to think myself above the line. By the time I got my number my attitude had changed. We began talking with the other people (mostly mothers with young children) all charming and just as sick and miserable as I was. I on the other hand would be driven back to my nice warm bed 7 blocks away while they would walk home (sometimes for hours) and go back to work because they have no other option. How humbling to realize just how prideful I still am.
I came to Honduras thinking myself humble (I know what a joke). I now realize that I was still holding myself above others because I was going off to “save the world”. How wrong I was. God has been revealing to me that I am in fact nothing special other than what He does through me. Most of the time I feel hugely inadequate to do much of anything. Praise God!! I have prayed for humility and God is granting it to me. To live in a community of talented, holy, loving people is in fact one of the greatest challenges I´ve known as I am challenged daily to be more holy myself. To love more completely and freely in every circumstance and activity. Whether cleaning toilets, driving someone to town, or leading a girls group.
Behind the beauty of the mountains and the simplicity of life here how there is a fight going on for this country. The struggle between good and evil is at full force and I pray we can win. Some days I´m certain the battle has already been lost- and then I look at the youth we work with. Yes we feel helpless here but if we give up we´re taking away the opportunity they have to fight and to know someone is fighting with them. They are striving and fighting so hard to win- if we help just one our job is worth it- just one. But how do you let the other 99 go? I look at people like Erika who is a beautiful Honduran member of our community. At only 18 she has already fought the fight against her family, who are not Catholic, and who don´t approve of her work here. I can´t imagine fighting that battle.
And how do I- as someone who has only known love and boundless resources- offer anything to these people so beautiful and broken and yet closer to God than I could ever imagine. How beautiful they are- we who feel hopeless and they who continue to have faith- in us!
I realize now also how important our life of prayer is. It is so easy to get bogged down with all the things to be done- the people at the door, the programs to plan, and countless other activities- and yet it is prayer, mass, and time in front of the blessed sacrament that gives us hope.
“Ï have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble but take heart I have overcome the world.¨- 1 John
It is in admitting our weakness and inadequacy that we realize that we do nothing. We are not strong enough to help all these people- but Christ is and it is Him who works through us- if we let him.
As for me and my vocation, I am continuing to search for His holy and perfect will, and God willing will be going to visit the Franciscan Sisters of the Renewal in New York in the spring. Please pray for me as I do for all of you. These days I struggle to live the words of St. Paul of the Cross, ¨neither to suffer, nor to die, but only to turn perfectly to the will of God.¨ Yes life here is a challenge. Humbling and frustrating and rough- but beautiful and vale la pena (worthwhile) at the same time. What a challenge to daily try to die to yourself. I still walk back from mass at the friars every morning with the mountains greeting me and thank God that I am here- I am at home and I am at peace.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Death is Quiet
I'll never forget the first person I watched die. It was a 14 year old girl in PICU. I watched from outside the room as the doctors and nurses did CPR and then called it. I remember thinking even then how surreal it all seemed. There was no thunder, no noise or great sign that this body that once contained a soul did so no longer. It seemed like the earth should have stopped that it should have been a bigger deal...One moment this girl was alive and now she wasn't.
Well I thought that again this past week. One night around 11pm we got the call- "TRAUMA ALERT EMERGENCY ROOM...TRAUMA ALERT EMERGENCY ROOM". Turns out a guy had been shot multiple times- he came in on life flight and the Trauma docs' started to work on him right away. These are the moments we live for as physicians (and future physicians) something exciting and thrilling...something different from the normal diabetes, high blood pressure, and back pain.
I got in the room after they had already cracked this guys chest open. I stood there eagerly watching them suction the blood out of his chest cavity, relishing watching the lungs inflate and deflate. They pulled the heart out and found that the bullet had completely destroyed his Right atrium- beyond repair. The guy had been without a pulse for quite a while and there in the middle of all the chaos the surgeon called time of death. We were all still looking at the guy's heart, marveling at the cracked chest. There was something thrilling and exciting...it was like a present that we were all so excited to see. It wasn't like on ER where all of a sudden all things quiet down, there was still a flurry of activity and nothign really changed except that a few minutes before this guy was "alive" and now he was "dead".
I don't mean to say this patient and his family weren't treated with dignity...they were. But for quite a while it was easy to forget that he was someones son, brother, friend...and to just focus on how exciting it was to see inside his chest cavity. That's when it hit me...I had forgotten to pray for his soul. In the middle of all of this I wasn't praying for him or concerning myself with his family- and even afterwards I went back to work like nothing had happened- I concerned myself with getting closer so I could see the hole in his heart. That's what makes me so sad...this wasn't something that impacted me except I thought it was neat I got to see his chest.
Shouldn't I have cared that this man died? shouldn't I have prayed for him (which I did later)? shouldn't the earth have made some sign that where there once was life there was no more? It just scares me that death leaves no trace...it just happens quietly with no fanfare. It scares me that I forgot about him as a living person and only saw him as something neat I got to see on a Saturday night.
I continue to see the affirmation of my career in medicine (I mean how many people who don't go into medicine think a cracked chest is the neatest thing in the world)...I just pray I can continue to see patients as people- as Christ in distressing disguise and not as objects. But to some extent I think we have to distance ourselves from the patients- from their humanity. We have to preserve ourselves.
Lord, give me the grace to balance my academic interest in medicine and my recognition of you in every patient I encounter!!
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