After spending and hour and a half at the clinic to be seen by the doctor for 2 minutes, I was annoyed and frustrated. I decided to go to Target! Two reasons:

1. I needed to go for a walk & at 8pm, inside Target is the safest place to be.

2. Going there always makes me happy! LOL (:

I was there for an hour. I tried on this beautiful red lace dress, these cute turquoise moccasins, these floral print denim jeans. So pretty! I looked at the new books that came out, eyed some yummy snacks, and even looked at the rugs, because I’ve been wanting one for my room.

In the end, I walked out with a new lighter ($1) for my candles, because the one I have in my room is all out; a tin of dried fruits & nuts ($6), a box of tea bags ($2), and a little bag of chocolate cookies because they were on sale for $2.50; after all I did want to treat myself.

I’m getting better at this.

I woke up sick today. I had a fever and runny nose, the works. So I slept most of the morning and missed going to mass at Our Lady of Guadalupe, where I live. I googled real quick and found out that San Fernando Cathedral, one of the most historic and beautiful cathedrals downtown was having mass at 2pm. It was 1:36pm, so I quickly changed out of my pjs & asked Mike if he could drop me off. I would take the bus home.

The Cathedral is beautiful. Although the homily was dry, something that stuck out to me was this homeless, mentally-ill woman came stomping in and sat at the very front of the pews. Many eyes and disturbed faces looked toward her, but she had the biggest smile on her face, as if she was proud that she was going to church. It was difficult to focus on the actual mass, because she kept twitching and engaging in OCD behavior, flattening out her messy bun, picking up her hat, then placing it back on the bench. The most heart-warming part for me to witness was when she went to receive communion. She kept looking around because she didn’t know what to do, but she eventually made her way up the altar, and upon her turn, she received the Body and Blood of Jesus. After going back to her seat, because she was in the front row (with no kneelers), she knelt down on the ground facing the pew and put her head down on the bench with her fingers clasped. I began to pray for her.

After leaving mass, I walked over to the bus stop. It’s a little sketch, despite being right across the street from the Cathedral. Within a few minutes of sitting down, I saw a young guy, around 18, walking down the street passing out dollar bills. He was super high. One man he approached looked at him and said, “I don’t need your money, son.” I was so confused as to why he was giving money away. Did he steal it? Before I knew it, a police officer stopped him, just about 5 feet away from me, and began to question him. The guy was so drugged up, his words were incoherent. He was later taken away.

A few minutes after that, while still sitting on the bench at the bus stop, the same homeless woman from the Cathedral was walking by. She accidently bumped into this other couple that was walking the opposite way. The lady mumbled something under her breath, but she continued to walk with the man. The homeless lady then turned around and began to yell at her, saying, “What did you say about me? You talking about me?” The other woman rudely said, “No, bitch. Shut the hell up and watch where you’re going.”

Before I knew it, the homeless woman began yelling at her, calling her all sorts of names, telling her she needs to lose weight and go to church. She then disappeared into the corner. Before I knew it, the other woman came walking back, looking for the homeless woman, saying, “Where is this bitch? I’m going to set her ass on fire. Does the bitch think I’m kidding? I have a fucking lighter in my pocket.” I looked at this woman, standing a few feet in front of me, as she angrily looked for the homeless woman. The man was following after her, but did not stop her. I began to pray.

In a few moments, the couple returned from the corner, unable to find the homeless woman. They muttered something again, about how she’s lucky she got away or else she would’ve gotten killed. Finally, my bus came.

While on the bus, I witnessed a drug deal happen with an older lady and man in the seats in front of me. There was an exchange of $40, I saw the lady count it with her hands and teeth. The lady was also talking about how she got another ticket, costing $100, but that she ain’t paying the government shit. “I’d rather go to jail. It’s going to get cold soon, I’d rather be in there and get fed anyway.” The two continued conversing, while I just sat there, in awe of everything I had witnessed within that half hour.

This is their reality…which is now my reality.

It’s only been 4 months into my life in the Westside of San Antonio & I can already see how much it’s impacted me. There is so much I’ve seen, so many stories I’ve heard, so many ways I’ve seen God in this place that I can never be the same. How can I go home or go back to the life I was living and forget how I’ve been a witness to drug deals, gangs, prostitution, violence, abandoned children, broken families, poverty…I live it every single day. It’s not enough to just pray for the poor anymore. It never was, but now I’m beginning to understand why. I have to do something. Not just for the rest of my time here, but for the rest of my life. So what now, God?

I was sitting at the Pharmacy department at Walgreens waiting to get called for my flu shot, when I looked at my hands and realized I had been pressing them hard against each other. It’s a nervous habit, and I do it A LOT. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the time & I’ve learned that it’s because I’m not even mentally aware of how anxious I am feeling, but my body is physically responding to it.

Hundreds of thoughts and questions began racing through my mind & before I knew it, tears started running down my face. It’s the middle of the day, I’m on my lunch break from work, sitting at Walgreens waiting for a flu shot, and I’m crying. Oh geeze.

I needed to talk to someone. Adam was in class, so I started typing out a text:

Why am I so nervous all the time? That’s not me. I used to be so carefree, free-spirited, and eager to live life to the fullest. Now I have days where I’m so anxious, nervous, and detached from life. What happened to me? Why did I change? I don’t want to be like this.

And the tears keep coming! At this point, I’m embarrassed, wiping my tears away, reminding myself that I can’t have a breakdown during my lunch break, at Walgreens, & head back to work with mascara-smeared, puffy eyes. So I put my phone away and force myself to think of “rainbows and puppies.” It kind of worked.

After arriving back to work, all the kiddos were in the playground, so I joined them to play :) I love playing with them. Then within a few minutes, all the kids were called for CIRCLE TIME!

*Circle time is where ALL the kids, regardless of whether they are nonverbal, handicapped, epileptic, autistic, etc…all these kids sit in a circle, dance, clap, and sing songs with each other. It is the CUTEST thing ever.*

Anywho, we’re sitting in circle time, singing and clapping to “There’s a froggy in the middle and he can’t get out, he can’t get out, he can’t get out…” when time just suddenly stopped for a few moments. I look around and see all these beautiful children, some in helmets due to their seizures, some in wheelchairs, the rest clapping and “singing” & I just think, wow…look at how happy they are. These innocent children with special needs that were homeless, that were taken from their families or have no families, are so happy. And it’s Thanksgiving week.

And I started crying. In the middle of circle time. This girl (*raises hand). Crying.

God, what are you trying to tell me with all these emotions?

My song of the year for JVC 2012-13 <3

“Just know you’re not alone, ‘cause I’m going to make this place your home.” <3

The joys & heartache of working at Respite…

Today at work, when I realized it was 4:30pm and time for me to go home, I decided to stay a while longer and play with my kiddos. I have a sibling group, ages 12, 11, and 9, that I pick up from school and care for every Tues/Thurs & Fri. After I picked them up from school, I took them home to get dressed into their comfy clothes, gave them their snack, sang to them, danced with them, then brought them to the Respite House so they could play on the playground for a while.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a new child come into the playground with who appeared to be his mother. He was a toddler and he was crying because he didn’t want to be let go. She kept trying to get him to go play, but he didn’t want to leave her side. It suddenly dawned on me that she was a caseworker from CPS.

After multiple attempts to distract the child, nothing seemed to work, so I told my kids I would be back, and walked over to the crying child. I grabbed him by the hand & said, “Let’s go play! Want to play with me? Come on, let’s play.” Although he was still sniffling, he walked with me, and when I looked back, the caseworker was gone.

I started talking to him and soon realized this child only spoke Spanish. He told me his name was Derrick and he was 2 years old. Once he tired of the swings, he held my hand and led me to the slide, then to the jungle gym. He didn’t want me to let go of him. As I played with him, my heart began to hurt for this little boy.

He is our newest child brought into Respite & had just been taken out of his home earlier that morning. His mother couldn’t care for him, his dad was a drug addict. Now, he was in this new “home” with children he’s never seen before, being bathed, fed, and put to bed by adults he’s never seen before, all the while not understanding what is going on, because he doesn’t understand English.

What must that feel like? To experience all of this at only 2 years old? How blessed are we who have families that love us, our home and warm beds to sleep on, surrounded by comforting faces. How truly blessed are we.

My heart & prayers go out to my little Derrick tonight. Sweet dreams, honey <3

I know I’ve heard this before…in a leadership retreat from awhile ago, but it hasn’t really hit me until now. I had my first spiritual direction seshhh tonight with Sister Alice. I was a little anxious, nervous, not really knowing what to expect. My first attempt at spiritual direction was kind of a fail. I just wanted it to feel right.

Right or not, this woman told me exactly what I needed to hear, even when I didn’t realize I needed to hear it. God was definitely at work through her, and once the session ended, I was filled with peace and joy that I know only comes from God (:

When she asked me how my relationship with God has been since I arrived in San Antonio, I told her about how I thought it was good, but that I was being somewhat resistant to Him, probably because I had stopped receiving communion, because I hadn’t gone to confession since I left California. I told her that I had some guilt that I carried with me and although I intended to go to confession, I was even resisting that. But once I finally went to confession 3 weeks ago, I felt renewed, strengthened, and one with God again.

She then proceeded to repeat those same words I heard at the retreat years ago. “What separates you from the love of God?”

“Even before you were born, God has loved you. God has a plan just for you & there is not a moment that can ever go by where God will stop loving you. Not even for a second. You don’t have to earn God’s love. He sent His only begotten Son to die on a cross out of love for you. God’s love is already yours. All He wants now is for you to continue to walk with Him & love Him back.”

I realized that I had stopped receiving communion, because I felt unworthy of God’s love, of His precious body & blood. I felt unclean, sinful. And yeah, we all sin, we all make mistakes, but does God ever stop loving you because of it? NO.

Nothing can separate you from the love of God.

Nothing. How amazing is that?

Tonight gave me a whole new perspective on that song. Jason Mraz’s I Won’t Give Up has been one of my favorite songs. And truth be told, I thought it was such a beautiful love song that would remind me of Adam whenever we’d get mad at each other. Thank God that it’s not just another love song about romantic relationships for me anymore. Tonight, it became a song of hope, courage, strength, and trust in God.

My roommate Kezia works at Haven for Hope, a non-profit dedicated to transforming the lives of homeless men, women and children by addressing the root causes of homelessness through education, job training and mental health services. Once a month, there is a Spirituality night put on in one of their meeting rooms by the Director of Spirituality at Haven. Tonight was that night.

The agenda for the night was pretty simple. We watched the youtube video of I Won’t Give Up (which I had never actually seen, btw), read over the lyrics off a sheet of paper, and then had an open discussion about what the song means to us or what stuck out to us about the song. That’s where God’s magic happened.

First of all, I really didn’t know what to expect. I knew we were going in to this homeless shelter, but even then I wasn’t sure what it would be like. How many times can we say we’ve even been to a homeless shelter? Not as much as we should, that’s for sure. We got there a few minutes earlier & were the first ones there. For a minute, I thought we would be the only ones there. But, slowly and surely, people started walking in one by one. One with a cane, one with disabilities, a pregnant young woman, and a few elder men and women.

What was truly amazing to me was hearing the things some of these individuals said. Many had never heard the song before, or even knew who Jason Mraz is. But they shared about how this song made them think about how much God loves us. One woman shared about how she had never been homeless before in her life, but she had made bad choices and somehow ended up with nothing but a suitcase and a few pairs of shoes. Yet, she found Haven for Hope, a place where her hope was restored and she has begun changing her life for the better. She said how all of this is God’s doing. “God won’t give up on me. Even when I thought I had nothing left, God gave me what I needed. Because I’m worth it. And I know how much he loves me. God will always love me.”

Another man shared about how before he entered Haven for Hope, he would hear people talk badly about it. He said that people would say it’s a waste of time, because homeless people are at fault for being homeless, whether if it’s due to drugs or crime. “People would say that it’s a waste of time, waste of money, because homeless people are going to stay homeless. But after I got out of jail and I came here, I’ve seen the good things that this place does. This place really does change lives, because they believe in us. They won’t give up on us. Even when we mess up or fall down, we can get back up. We try again. We are worth it. And we can change our lives.”

I had to hold back tears when I would hear people’s testimonies to this song. It opened my eyes to what the lives of these homeless people actually are. They are just like us. Except people gave up on them. This song reminds us that we cannot give up on each other.

The line that stuck out to me the most was: “When I look into your eyes…there’s so much they hold.” Every person we will ever meet has fought their own battles, has overcome some sort of trauma or challenge, or is still struggling with it. When we look into someone’s eyes, we can catch a glimpse of their soul, or all they’ve gone through to be where they are in this moment. This line reminds me to, next time I look at someone in the eyes, whether if it’s my roommate, or coworker, or stranger in the street, to look at them with love, because I don’t know what it is they’re battling with. Look at each person through the eyes of Christ.

God loves us. US. Not just me or them, but US. And he won’t give up on us, even when we may feel like giving up on ourselves. I pray that we always remember that.

We’re worth it.