2020 LENTEN REFLECTIONS

 

First Week of Lent

 

Second Week of Lent

Heather McCormack, CVV Year 20

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life.”

Matthew 6:26

Worrying literally takes hours of your life. Remember that this Lent.

Happy Lent, CVV community. Something that has always stayed with me from my CCV year is Mary Frances saying to live in the liminal space, embrace the in between. Like when we went to the border, like when our income was $100 a month and yet we had shelter and food and safety, like when we were in a city of strangers and yet had twenty plus people praying for and loving us. In between spaces are difficult for us humans as we hunger for security. 

I feel like I’ve been in a liminal space ever since I came to Colorado and it feels just as scary that I am in it again as I prepare to leave Colorado. I’ve been in Denver for 5 years, going on 6 since CVV 20. I’ve lived in the liminality of rooming situations, employment, and romantic relationships, between wealth and poverty, self-confidence and self-loathing, health and illness, wholehearted and broken hearted. 

As much as I’ve longed for stability, certainty, and concrete answers, the most joy I’ve ever felt has been in liminal spaces. The times where I needed to sacrifice some control so God could hold me and slowly, painfully slowly, reveal His plan. 

I’m sprinting toward the end of my master’s program, soon to sign my name with an MSW at the end of it and I am the most broke I hope to ever be in my life. I feel the societal shame every day that I should be saving, paying off debt, working harder, etc., etc. I’ve critiqued this Gospel passage before, “how can I not worry when if I stop worrying all the plates I’m spinning will fall and I’ll let others down, that can’t be God’s will, to let everybody down, right?” When I reflect on my current identity as a broke social work grad student, I’m struck by the amount of privilege I enjoy despite my bank account. I have a safe, beautiful home, the education to make a livable wage doing something I love, a university that supports my learning, and a spiritual community that buoys me when doubt arise. A friend reminded me that my current struggle to make ends meet over the next 4 months is a microcosm of those I wish to serve with my degree, and even then it’s a small snapshot into the barriers of systemic injustice, poor mental and physical health, and the cycle of poverty in this country and around the world. 

Tonight, when I could have let the demon of fear take over, that demon that encourages me to stay silent, to minimize, to put up walls, I chose a different path. I reached out to my partner and we made a plan together regarding finances. That conversation didn’t change my bank account, but it shut down my panic. Liminal spaces are where we can learn the most about ourselves and reach for grace rather than hopelessness. Yes, God cares for the birds and clothes the lilies of the valley, how much more will He do for us? He gives us the gifts of one another. This Lent I invite you and myself to reject soul sucking worry and turn to a friend for life is more than food, and loved ones are more than the window-dressings of our lives. Friends are God’s helping hands, grasp them.

 

Third Week of Lent

Mariana Ugalda, CVV Year 23

Do not be afraid, for I am with you” -Isaiah 41:10

As I sit here at Annunciation Catholic School, reflecting on the past three years of my life, I can’t help but think of a word: trust. If you would have told me when I first arrived in Denver, that I was going to stay here for an additional two years after my CVV year, I would have laughed. I was clueless to the plans that God had for me. My time spent at Annunciation during CVV was transformative. It was then that I realized I wanted to pursue a career in education, specifically working with minorities and under-resourced communities; I just didn’t know the details. Should I go back home to LA? Would another opportunity lead me to another city? Would I stay in Denver? 

I distinctly remember the Lenten season during my CVV year. These questions and fears about my future haunted me. I would not find out what was coming next until the summer after CVV, when I received a phone call from Bill and Mary Frances. They asked if I wanted to come back to Denver and be an alumni volunteer. When I was saying goodbye to the students at Annunciation during my first year of CVV, I had no idea that God would lead me back to experience that fulfillment, joy, and mutuality for a second time. There was no need to worry, God was there, guiding me. 

I will admit, trust is not easy for me. I get caught up in my fears and doubts and wonder if I am making the right choices. I now find myself in the same situation as two years ago: unsure about the future and where my life is heading. This time around, instead of asking God for clarity, I want to ask Him to increase my trust in Him. 

God has shown me time after time His trustworthiness. What better example of this than His suffering, death and resurrection? It is during His Passion that God shows us that He will never stop showing up. He will never leave us alone. I want to go through this journey with Him, just as He goes on this journey with me, trusting that I am with Him and He is with me. 

 

Fourth Week of Lent

Mirka Gallo, CVV Year 23

Luke 5: 27-32

 Jesus saw a tax collector named Levi sitting at the customs post. He said to him, “Follow me.” And leaving everything behind, he got up and followed him. Then Levi gave a great banquet for him in his house, and a large crowd of tax collectors and others were at a table with them.   The Pharisees and their scribes complained to his disciples saying, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?” Jesus said to them in reply, “Those who are healthy do not need a physician, but the sick do. I have not come to call the righteous to repentance but sinners.”

Reflection: Reflect on a time in your life when grace came to you “unbidden and without explanation” and how did you respond?

(This reading and reflection question were taken from a Daily Lenten Reflection Book for 2020)

 It has been almost 3 year since the end of my CVV career and while we go through a termination process towards the end of our year…things usually don’t hit me until months or years later. This reflection question hit me hard.

Once I finished out my CVV year I was fortunate enough to go on a camping trip to Wyoming for a week, flew home to Chicago to begin working right away before grad school started, started grad school to obtain my MSW, graduated that following May with my MSW, traveled for 5 weeks in Europe, flew home after 5 weeks and started working full time as a mental health clinician for a local nonprofit.

As I sit here writing this reflection today, this is the first time in the last 3 years I have had a moment to truly sit down and process the grace that God has given me. My CVV year was the first time I truly left everything up to God to follow him without protest. Everyone around me asked me not to go, my parents, my siblings, my friends. “Why are you going somewhere that won’t pay you enough, living with strangers, in a city so far from Chicago? Will you come back home? Will you be safe?” Truthfully, I didn’t know the answer to any of those questions. I was following something in my heart, but how can you explain something that only you and God can see?

 At this moment, I responded just as Levi did. A sinner unaware of the moment God was calling them to repent. In this moment Levi and I disregarded any cultural and societal norms and just said Yes. We said yes to putting away those undesirable thoughts of ourselves and finally feeling worthy of sitting at the same table with God the father.

 It’s hard to hear grace sometimes, especially in a world filled with constant negativity, overindulgence in technology, and unrealistic goals. However, if we leave a little window for reflection and prayer God knows exactly what to say and how to say it.

 

Fifth Week of Lent

Gloria Van Sloun, CVV Year 14

Lately I have been reflecting on the life of my grandfather Ken (my mother’s father) who recently passed away. He was 84 years old, and I am so thankful for the relationship I had with him. In my grandpa I observed many qualities which I admired and seek to incorporate into my own life. I would appreciate the opportunity to share some of them with the CVV community. 

My grandpa Ken was born in Minnesota, in a French-speaking household, to parents of French-Canadian descent. Grandpa Ken had a strong interest in music, and at twelve years old, after persistently asking his parents, he received a small accordion for Christmas. He immediately attached himself to it, and one month later he could play any song he tried. Shortly after, his parents gifted him a full-size accordion. Along with some cousins, he formed a band which they called “Frenchie’s Band.” He graduated high school in St. Paul, Minnesota, and met my grandmother Violet shortly after. They had two children, my mother and my uncle. My grandpa formed another band “The Triangles” with two of his brother-in-laws, and they had a blast playing local events for many years. Along with his family, music was my grandpa’s great love. As we reviewed photos at the funeral, we discovered many images of my grandpa gleefully playing his accordion, in some he even appeared to be laughing out loud.

However not everything was rosy in Grandpa Ken’s life. At 13 years old, he tragically lost his father to a heart attack, even after Grandpa attempted CPR on him. His wife (my grandmother) suffered from paranoid schizophrenia, and it affected every aspect of the family’s life. When I was young, my grandparents lost their house on the lake to bankruptcy, which they had built themselves and where they had created so many memories. And my grandpa suffered from many health problems, not just recently, but for as long as I can remember. Most impactful of these was cardiomyopathy, which affected his hands so severely that he could no longer play the accordion. In the last decade of his life, he used a walker and became blind and homebound. 

But my grandpa chose not to focus on these setbacks. In fact I never heard him mention them. Rather, I always knew him to be cheerful and happy. Happiness, this idea that people spend unfathomable amounts of money chasing, my grandpa exuded from the recliner in his living room, not far from the city where he was born. Whenever I called him, he never talked about his own problems, but was much more interested in my life and wanted to know how I was doing. He somehow managed to focus his energy and attention on others instead of himself. Grandpa always made a point to thank us for visiting. He addressed everyone in the family individually, asking for specific updates on our lives and work. It was obvious that he did not take his family for granted, and that he enjoyed every minute of our time together. I seriously admired his ability to remain positive and thankful in the midst of his struggles. 

When I reflect on the values Grandpa demonstrated, and my desire to grow them in myself, here are some questions I consider which you may also find fruitful: 

-What is my attitude toward the people I encounter in my daily life? Do I give them my full attention or am I distracted? Do I show genuine concern for the needs of others? Where do I have room to grow?

-Who or what am I thankful for? Do I regularly give thanks for the gifts in my life? Do I tell the people in my life “thank you”? How do I demonstrate my gratitude?

-What is my “default” internal attitude? With what kind of outlook do I approach the world? Do I have room to focus more on the positive? How will I practice this? 

Thank you for the chance to share about my Grandpa Ken. I enjoyed reconnecting with many of the alumni at the reunion last fall, and I continue to give thanks for my CVV experience and community. Thank you!

 

Sixth Week of Lent

Humberto Camarena, CVV Year 14

There are only a few events in my life where I can clearly identify a before and after. October 18^th of last year marked such a turning point for me. Since then, I’ve learned what tear gas feels like in my nose, eyes and lungs. I’ve witnessed extreme police oppression on social media and in person. I’ve felt rage and indignation for human rights violations like never before. And, like millions of Chileans, I’ve also awoken to realize that composure, patience and complacency are privileges I will no longer hold. 

Since October 18^th I’ve also been inspired by millions of people marching for their rights. I’ve shared with hundreds of neighbors as we educate and organize. I’ve listened to strangers openly and honestly share their pain and rage towards an establishment that systematically oppresses the poor. I’ve seen young adults putting their bodies on the line for their future and the future of others. I’ve taken and shared countless images of dissent created out of the outrage of artists who aim to make visible what the privileged class ignores. 

To say the least, the past four months of the popular revolution in Chile have been for me a call to break free from my personal inertia, to not just work towards social justice, but to actively demand human dignity for all. While my entire professional career I’ve been in the realm of nonprofits and social justice, for me, there is now a clear difference between working towards a cause and demanding human rights, and it has to do with what I’m willing to risk and how much I can afford to wait for change to happen. 

There is a quote that has surfaced since the beginning of the revolution and has been widely shared; it is “Hasta que valga la pena vivir” or, in English, “Until life is worth living.” It’s hard to explain the intensity behind this phrase; the cultural and historic context of Chile makes this phrase particularly gut-wrenching. But, Eduardo Galeano’s quote does a good job of capturing its essence when he said, “It’s worthwhile to die for things without which it’s not worthwhile to live.” The quote captures with no exaggeration what’s on the line for millions of people. 

In Chile, the social demands are clear, numerous and very much justified. Better pensions. Free and quality education. Timely, quality and accessible healthcare for all. A living wage. End to government corruption. Protection of natural resources. As I continue to hold conversations where people will no longer accept negotiating their human dignity, I ask myself what will it take for the US to begin to demand rights and let go of the privileges of composure, patience and complacency? How many children do we have to see locked in cages for us to be sufficiently outraged? How many accounts of rape must be taken to court in order for us to actively defy a systematically sexist and patriarchal society? How many more mass shootings are we willing to put up with? How much more manipulation of the justice system do we have to witness before we react to the crumbling of a democratic process? How many more black and brown lives must be killed and incarcerated for us to react with the appropriate response to the taking of innocent lives? 

When will we sincerely put ourselves and our privileges on the line so that all may have a dignified life? Lent is a time of reflection where Christians around the world are invited to remember Christ’s story, His sacrifice and see themselves reflected in His teachings. During this time, I’d like to call for a very genuine personal reflection for everyone to ask yourself what you believe in and if you are doing everything you can to make that a reality. 

I think back to my CVV community often and recall our conversations on the environmental justice movement. I remember our passionate marches against the School of the Americas and the ICE detention facility. I reminisce about Obama’s first election and how it pushed us into believing that real change is possible. I fondly think about those memories more than 10 years later and reflect on what we got right and what we got wrong, but one important take away is that I realize how relevant those issues still are today, and how our (in)action is just as relevant.

 

Holy Week

Kelsey Ryan-Simkins, CVV Year 20

Pandemic

What if you thought of it
as the Jews consider the Sabbath—
the most sacred of times?
Cease from travel.
Cease from buying and selling.
Give up, just for now,
on trying to make the world
different than it is.
Sing. Pray. Touch only those
to whom you commit your life.
Center down.
 
And when your body has become still,
reach out with your heart.
Know that we are connected
in ways that are terrifying and beautiful.
(You could hardly deny it now.)
Know that our lives
are in one another’s hands.
(Surely, that has come clear.)
Do not reach out your hands.
Reach out your heart.
Reach out your words.
Reach out all the tendrils
of compassion that move, invisibly,
where we cannot touch.
 
Promise this world your love–
for better or for worse,
in sickness and in health,
so long as we all shall live.
 
–Lynn Ungar 3/11/20

http://www.lynnungar.com/poems/pandemic/

 

March 2020-Dan Walsh

February 2020-Katharine Montemurri

January 2020-Brian Vander Heiden

December 2019-Kate Lucas

November 2019-Mary Arczynski

October 2019-25th Anniversary Reflection by Mary Frances & Bill Jaster

September 2019 – Allison Duber

July 2019 -Border Update

June 2019 – Matthew Norris

May 2019—Lauren Franklin

2019 Lenten Reflection

April 2019—Rachael Klos

March 2019 – Haley Todd

February 2019 – Jenny Jordan

January 2019 – Chris Morgan

October 2018 – Jeff Peterson

September 2018 – Allison Duber

August 2018 – Patrick Kluesener

July 2018 – Humberto Camarena

June 2018 – Erin Casey-DaCosta

May 2018 – Reflections from the CVV Blind Cafe Experience

2018 Lenten Reflections

March 2018 – Jen Gordon

February 2018 – Jenna Carbone

January 2018 – Katie Kerr

December 2017 – Maura Martin

November 2017 – Katie Cassady

October 2017 – Tara Williams

September 2017 – Kristen Gittinger

August 2017 – Chris Morgan

July 2017 – Cathryn Dutton

June 2017 – Joel Cassady

May 2017 – Elizabeth Lent

Holy Week and April 2017 – Sarah Ault

Lent 2017 Week 5 – Heather McCormack

Lent 2017 Week 4 – Michael Thomson

Lent 2017 Week 3 – Josie Johnson

Lent 2017 Week 2 – Christy (Titus) Thomson

Lent 2017 Week 1 – Diane Smith

February 2017 – Cassie Price

January 2017 – Dan Walsh

December 2016 – Shaughnessy Miller

November 2016 – Nikki Murillo and Kara Schmitt

October 2016 – Lynne Baumann

September 2016 – Brian Sheehan

August 2016 – John Taylor

July 2016 – Katie Cassady

June 2016- Jenna Carbone

May 2016- Tara (Bradley) Williams

April 2016- Alyson Hankwitz

March 2016- Kyle Earlywine

February 2016- Erin Kennedy

January 2016- Josh Wise

December 2015- Alison Mercier

November 2015- Mary (O’Neill) McManus

October 2015- Mallorie Gerwitz

September 2015- Christy (Titus) Thomson

August 2015- Chris Morgan

July 2015- Casey Sharp

June 2015- Jennay Smith

Many CVVers come to Denver to serve and then find their home here.  Dan Walsh, CVV 16, did the opposite.  He wanted to serve where he was raised and then return to his alma mater, Creighton University, to serve the students there.  During CVV, Dan worked at St Francis Center which allowed him to use his many gifts such as his gentle spirit and reflective heart.  Now he has a beautiful family to be his companions on the journey of life.

 

Remembering  My Companions

Theological Reflection was one of my favorite aspects of my time at CVV. It was a time to reflect upon and interpret my experiences at St. Francis Center through the lens of theological concepts and Vincentian charisms in the context of intentional community. And, I’m worried about forgetting what I learned through these experiences.

When I reflect back on CVV, I think of “being a companion on the journey.” Lately, I often wonder about whose journey I’m companioning? My journey these days has several fellow travelers – my wife and two daughters. It’s easy to think only of their well being, of ensuring that they get to where they need to go, whether that’s to childcare, to learning how to read, to finding a place of peace after a long and stressful day. This is important work, to be sure. However, have I forgotten how I’m also in relationship with the poor, the marginalized, and the excluded?

I’ve been reflecting recently on James 1, where he says that “Everyone should be quick it hear. If anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, they are like a person who looks at their own face in a mirror. They see themselves, then go off and promptly forget what they looked like. But the one who sees themselves as a doer who acts in freedom is blessed.”

Am I still that same person at CVV who would glean food weekly for my community, who would spend hours listening to the guests at St. Francis Center, who would critically think about why homelessness persists in our urban communities? In short, have I forgotten about the people Jesus directly identities himself with in Matthew 25?

Lent is a time to remember – remember that I’m dust—that I’m a creature— and I’m wholly dependent upon God. It’s also through this stance that I remember that it’s not all about me: my wants, my understandings, my will. I’m instead invited to remember humility and, through that, to love God more deeply. I might remember that love is best expressed in actions rather than words (“to be a doer of the Word, rather than a hearer who forgets”).

This might sound Ignatian, but I think it also speaks to the Vincentian message. This Lent is an invitation to remember how I can be a companion on the journey, to remember how to encounter Christ in the poor, the imprisoned, the immigrant, the refugee. At the same time, I’m challenged to reflect on my privileges and barriers that insulate me from the gritty reality of the world.

At the end of each night, I pray with my older daughter following a simple pattern: “What were you thankful for? What were you sorry for (challenged by)? What (or who) do you want to pray for?” I’m often surprised by the things a three year old can notice throughout the day. My wife and I also follow this nightly prayer pattern, and it’s an invitation to reflect together on each day, discussing the challenges, joys, and questions we have encountered. Perhaps we’re informally practicing theological reflection – asking questions that help us remember the bigger picture.

And so, I’m reflecting on the following questions this Lent (and maybe you can, too): Who are my fellow companions on the journey? How am I seeking out those who are excluded? What things are getting in the way of me recognizing both my dependence upon God, as well as the call serve others?

 

 

After serving at Lutheran Family Services during CVV 21, Katharine Montemurri, was on our staff for three years.  Currently she is following her passion by pursuing a Master of Divinity.  We dearly miss her attention to detail, intellect, and ability to have meaningful conversations over coffee.  This picture reflects what Katharine does best – bringing great joy to everywhere she goes!

There Will Be Enough For Today

 

I can only imagine questions that every parent hears that elicit a pang of discomfort: Are we there yet?  Do I have to? Where do babies come from? Why?? Why not???

In my house, the most dreadful question of all was, “What’s for dinner?”

Its daily repetition taunted my mother.  She never liked cooking, but she worked tirelessly to provide us with healthy food. And if she ever heard one of us complain that there was nothing to eat in the house, she said we weren’t looking hard enough.  Within moments, my mom could pull together odds and ends, and make something that would sustain us.  Maybe it wasn’t gourmet, but it would provide adequate nourishment.

I didn’t inherit my mother’s dread of dinner.  I delight in time spent in the kitchen.  I’m filled with joy and anticipation to see a fridge or pantry stocked with ingredients with which to create.  I am nourished on every level when cooking healthy, colorful, and flavor-filled dishes and when sharing them with the ones I love.  In the kitchen, I am in my element and the world feels right.

***

My recent move out to Minnesota for graduate school has been bumpy at best.  I moved away from Denver and CVV – the place that I consider home and the community where I feel most nourished, to follow what I believed was God’s call in my life.  Don’t get me wrong – the people here are kind and welcoming, I’m learning a lot in my studies and my job, and life is just fine.  It is a privilege and blessing to be exactly where I am.  But I haven’t yet encountered the joy or fulfillment I thought I’d find in following this mysterious call.  I feel like I traded in my fully stocked kitchen for a pantry scattered with a few odds and ends. 

A few months ago I told my spiritual director that I felt like the Israelites after they left Egypt – wandering and grumbling. I felt frustrated, impatient, and uncertain.  I said to God, “I did what you asked of me. Did you lead me here just so I could be unhappy and homesick?”  Just like the Israelites, I willingly chose this path after arduous prayer and discernment with God.  And just like the Israelites, living into the choice I made proved a test to my faith.  I felt like God didn’t know what God was doing.  Maybe this was all a big mistake and I should just go back. I knew transitions were difficult, but tired of feeling aimless and out of place, I was ready for entry to the Promised Land.

In our conversation, my spiritual director reminded me of the miracle of the manna in the desert. Each day, manna would fall from the sky, and the people would be allowed to gather only enough to sustain them for that day.  But of course, unsure that God really knew what God was doing, the people tried to store up extra food for the future. The next morning, they would wake to find the loaves spoiled and full of worms.

Sr. Eunice asks, “What if you just asked God to help you find enough for today? Each day, could you trust God to put enough fragments in you path to sustain you through that day’s wandering?”

I thought of my mom, telling me to look harder into the depths of the pantry. Even though I love to cook with a full kitchen, I did inherit her ability to make a meal with the fragments. It was a skill that served me well during CVV. It may not be gourmet, but it will provide adequate nourishment to get me through the day.

***

I’m not in the comfort of my old home, with easy access to the places, relationships, and conversations that have sustained me these past four years, but maybe that’s an important part of journeying into the desert.  Maybe I need to let things fall apart enough so that God and I can get to know one another in a new way.  Maybe I can learn to trust a little more and delight in the opportunity to cook with new ingredients.  

I can’t be certain what will come over the next three years of study or even over the next week. And I’m not sure it’s fair to demand answers from God.  All I can do is ask God to open my eyes to the fragments I can gather on the path today.  And if I am offered the gift of tomorrow, I hope I can trust that God will repeat the miracle, and that I will be sustained.

My time of wandering may last a little bit longer, but there will be enough for today. 

There will be enough for today.

But I think God and I both know, I’ll probably keep asking “What’s for dinner?”

 

Brian Vander Heiden, CVV 21, has a passion to serve others which has allowed him to continue his vital work as a vocational specialist.  Beyond his work, Brian has several gifts such as  singing, exploring theology, playing basketball and even cracking a joke or two.  His concern for others is evident in the way he takes time to be with, to companion, people as they walk their journeys.

More Than Just a Job

When I started in employment services at Denver Urban Ministries (Brian’s CVV placement site), I believed my sole mission was to find my clients a job, or rather any job so that they could pay their living expenses. Afterall, most of the individuals I worked with were living on the streets, in shelters, or in halfway houses, and therefore, what I thought my clients really needed was to secure an income so they could pay for an apartment, food, clothing, transportation, etc… If they could pay for their basic needs, they would be self-sufficient and happy, right? 

 

About halfway during my CVV year, the employment services coordinator of Samaritan House, Tom, invited me to tour the organization. While showing me the shelter’s large kitchen, Tom told me that his staff trained guests in culinary skills to provide a pathway to meaningful, dignified work. Tom’s words struck a chord with me; it was the first time I had thought of work as being purposeful rather than being for the purpose of paying for something else. Work was not just a means to an economic end, but something that could be life-giving and lead to personal fulfillment.

 

Four years removed from my encounter with Tom, I find his words ring more true everyday. During my time in employment services, I have witnessed some of the amazing benefits that come from meaningful work.  Individuals have transitioned from isolation to having a strong community and network of support from their workplace. A sense of purpose and accomplishment in a job has helped some people navigate the challenges of mental illness. Companies promoting and training their workers to take on new responsibilities have given many people the sense that someone believes in them. Meaningful work has helped many people realize they can accomplish much more than they ever thought they could.

 

Regarding the dignity of work, Catholic Social Teaching emphasizes that “work is more than a way to  make a living; it is a form of continuing participation in God’s creation” (USCCB.org). When we find meaning in our daily work, we become co-facilitators of God’s vision that we continually grow into the best people we can be. While our job does not have to be synonymous with our vocation, it should be more than an action of economic necessity. As a Vincentian community, we should be mindful that our current era marked by unjust labor conditions and obsession with profit is not God’s vision for the world. A society that prioritizes the development of its citizens’ abilities and opportunities is much more in alignment with God’s desire for human flourishing. 

 

 

 

TRAIL LEGS

Seventeen years after CVV, Kate Lucas, reflects on how CVV allowed her to live her values in one place and how she is incorporating those in her life today.  Kate served at the Conflict Center and has been the only volunteer to play piano at Heart and Soul.  Enjoy her gift of writing! 

 

A few weeks ago, I went backpacking with a group of college friends on the Superior Hiking Trail. The trip was a celebration of my friend Anna’s 40^th birthday, the first of all of our 40^th birthdays. But we were all a bit skittish about it. All of us were a bit worried about the cold, the forecasted rain, how our bodies would hold up on trail carrying all our supplies on our backs.

Maybe we were a bit skittish about turning 40, too. It had been a long time since many of us had done a hiking trip like this. That fact in and of itself was surprising and sobering.

Needless to say, I have been thinking about numbers and time a lot lately. Last year marked 20 years since my high school graduation. CVV celebrated its 25th anniversary in September. And it’s been seventeen years since I moved into the south house at Woody’s place, taking in those powder blue walls, that afternoon sun streaming through the window. How is that possible? How can nearly two decades pass that quickly?

The numbers remind me acutely of a truth that has always been there: time is limited. Oh so limited. The time we have to make a difference. To live the life we want. To create the kind of world we long for.

Thinking back on my year at CVV, I remember the distinct feeling, deep in my bones, that I was exactly where I needed to be. In college, I had studied peace and justice, liberation theology, simple living, the Catholic Worker movement. At CVV, it felt like we were living all of that out. The Vincentian charism of companionship with the poor. Gleaning our food. Paring down our possessions. At a gut level, all of it made sense and felt right.

I’m not sure I’ve felt that degree of certainty — that purity of vision — since.

Some might say that simply reflects a maturing of a young person’s one-pointed idealism. Adulthood, it was explained to me once, means holding two or more conflicting ideas at once and being okay with that dissonance — recognizing the ambivalence and imperfection at the heart of life, realizing the fallacy and rigidity of pure idealism.

Whatever the reason, it’s true that for a while in my late 20s and early 30s, working full-time at a nonprofit, then teaching writing at a community college, I let some of my ideals slide. For a while, it felt like I was maxed out. Reaching a state of burn-out. For a while, I didn’t have time for volunteering. I began picking up more take-out instead of preparing whole foods at home, buying new clothes instead of hunting at thrift stores, streaming TV instead of seeking out more life-giving, community-building activities.

Recent years have been about coaxing myself back. Figuring out how to slow down. Learning  how to modulate my energy and time so that I have enough left for things that are important: community, volunteering, wellness, the Earth. I work from home now, less than full time, as a freelance writer for nonprofits. I practice yoga regularly, even teach a class. I tend a garden, and cook more frequently. And I volunteer again, teaching poetry at a day center for elderly people, working on several projects for racial equity, calling my senators regularly for the Citizens Climate Lobby.

More and more, I am pulled back to ideas about how to downsize, how to do more with less. More and more, I seek out people who are finding ways to create a richer, fuller life that is also good for the earth. People like Kate Weiner, founder of Loam Magazine, William Powers, author of 12 x 12: A One-Room Cabin Off the Grid and Beyond the American Dream, and Elizabeth Willard Thames, of The Frugalwoods.

Toward the end of our hiking trip, my friends and I paused for lunch at the top of the last peak. It was a broad, stunning view. Lake Superior glittered and stretched to the horizon in one direction, ridges of flaming leaves unfurled in the other. I sighed with a measure of satisfaction. Good trail food, feet airing out, warm sun on my face. “I love the later days of a hiking trip,” I said, “when you’ve already ate some of the heavier food, and you’re used to your pack, and you feel a bit stronger. It’s like you have your trail legs under you.”

“Maybe that’s what this time of life is,” said Anna. “You have your trail legs under you.” Maybe so. By now, we’ve recognized a few wrong turns and stepped back on the path. By now, we’ve lightened our load, more clear about what’s vital and what’s excess. By now, we have a much better sense of where we’re headed.

It’s not that the trail will necessarily get easier — it may well get much more difficult. Climate change may be huge climb in the years ahead. Hopefully, though, our trail legs will give us the strength and flexibility to lead the way. I hope the same for all the Companions on the Journey.

 Fr. Tom Nelson and Mary Arczynski pose for a selfie at the 25th Anniversary celebration

 

Mary Arczynski was part of CVV year 21 when she first encountered Fr. Tom Nelson.  With her poetic writing she is able to draw on his deep love of his most precious gifts in his life-the many relationships he had.  During this month of All Soul’s, Mary expresses the deep impression that Fr. Tom left on all of our hearts.  Let us celebrate Fr. Tom for ALL that he was to all of us!

 

 

In Memory of Father Tom Nelson, A Man Who Deeply Loved Us

Mary Arczynski

“The whole idea of compassion is based on a keen

awareness of the interdependence of all these

living beings, which are all part of one another, and

all involved in one another.”

Thomas Merton

 

a wave of your hand

base of left, front shoulder blade

your hand flows like the rising sun

and sets as a swoop of deep light on us

 

Father Tom,

you reminded us that we are the gifts

as is the wafer

one, the body of Jesus

the other, the body of the Church

 

Father Tom,

you reminded us that we are loved purely because we are

because I AM

because, we are images of God

and therefore, images of one another

 

Father Tom,

you reminded us that we belong to one another

for it is your love alone

that we could do or be anything

you reminded us that loving everyone makes a difference, matters

 

you reminded us that there is a God of joy

that laughter is the musical Spirit that God gave all of us

that beauty should be saved like pressed flowers in a bible

that creation is also the Word

 

“Love is our true destiny.

We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone-

we find it with another.”

Thomas Merton

Thomas Nelson

 

*Quotes included from Thomas Merton and partial quote from Saint Vincent de Paul

 

 

 

Reflections of 25 Years of Colorado Vincentian Volunteers

Mary Frances & Bill Jaster

Who would have known more than 25 years ago that we would be here together, celebrating 25 years of Colorado Vincentian Volunteers with friends we knew before 25 years ago and SO MANY friends we have gained over these last 25 years!  It is such a blessing to be here!  Thank you.  And thank you not only for being here tonight, but thank you for being HERE, here in this community that IS CVV.  Everyone who is here tonight and all those who were not able to be here physically, and those who are still yet to come, truly ARE CVV. This is the greatest lesson we have learned over our 40+ years of ministry.  CVV has become a symbol of the true meaning of the Body of Christ, mystical and very physically present, all at once.  It is amazing to look out over this crowded room and to realize this Body of Christ. You are amazing.

We feel a need to apologize for reading our reflection with you.  Several months ago, a wise woman on our Program Committee said, “I want to hear about your journey, your conversion over these last 25 years.”  (Margaret was so wise we decided to hire her.)   And as we told her, we are not really “keynote speaker types,” so thanks for your patience.  We will also ask you to participate and to recognize your own connections and insights that are absolutely part of this journey.

We have realized over the last few months what a task it is to put all of it into words.  So this is a very incomplete picture of how CVV has transformed us. This brought us to look up the word “transformation,” which states: Noun: a thorough or dramatic change in form or appearance; a marked change in form, nature, or appearance; a process by which one figure, expression, or function is converted to another. (You can see we have a few more gray hairs, and we have snacked on some gleaned bagels.)  For us, transformation truly has happened year by year, and we discovered long ago that if we are not being challenged, trying to change and grow, we not only become stagnant, but our community and organization can become stagnant as well. So here goes.

When we started CVV in 1994, we had discussed the proposition of it with several groups before we came to the Vincentians.  And then, we were just sitting there and talking over a beer at a St. Thomas Seminary Bizarre with Tom Esselman, who is here tonight.  He said, “That sounds like something we might be interested in helping to form.  Let’s take it to our Provincial Council.”  Long story short, they approved the proposal and with the financial backing, the seeds of the charism, and the encouragement of the Midwest Province of the Congregation of the Mission to make this a community supported Non-profit, CVV began.  It would not have happened without them.  And we would not be standing here today as Vincentians ourselves without CVV, which over these 25 years has become Vincentian and is still becoming Vincentian.

Then came the task of creating staff and interviewing Vincentian priests, one of whom would be our chaplain.  Little did we know that priests were not accustomed to interviews, but it was so clear in that process that we wanted Tom Nelson to join us in those beginning years to create CVV.  Little did we know how different Tom’s and our experiences were, which became a huge gift in the creation of CVV, and which, we all three can attest to, brought the struggles that helped to lay the foundation. It is so true that the pain and the struggles are so worth it when we are able to work through them, listen to one another and glean what we can so that we can come to decisions based in the mission.  Tom introduced to us the Constitutions and Statutes of the Congregation of the Mission, written in part with the help of Hugh O’Donnell, who is also with us tonight. 

These Constitutions truly led Tom to the Vincentians, and they have become a guide that grounds not only us, but each group of volunteers throughout these 25 years.  We use these 6 characteristics every year as the volunteer group creates their goals and objectives for the year, and we are using them today to share our conversion story.

     1. Clear and expressed preference for the apostolate among the poor, so that their evangelization is the sign that the kingdom of God is present on earth. CVV is based on 4 components or pillars:  Spirituality and Prayer, Community Life, Reflection and Discussion on the Gospel, and Direct Service and Advocacy.  This last one is all about being with people who are living in poverty and are marginalized.  It is this core pillar for which the other 3 are in place. It is central to the CVV mission.

We believe that we must be grounded with the poor: with the poor part of ourselves, with people experiencing economic poverty, with people experiencing marginalization because of disabilities or mental or physical health concerns, with people who are rejected by the culture as having no worth or no voice or no dignity. They are at the core, and knowing them and recalling our relationship with them continues to ground us, from our early experiences of SPLUNGE (Special People Living a Uniquely Nourishing and Growthful Experience, an urban retreat for high school students) to our mission in Central America and at Casa Juan Diego in Houston;  from our interactions with local non-profits who are working directly with people who are marginalized to the volunteers themselves.  What does this look like practically?  When we are faced with a million choices set in front of us (which phone to get, what plants to put in our garden, what house to buy, what clothes to wear, etc.) we can picture Jorge and Silvia in El Progresso, Honduras, and recall the very few choices they have.  When we learn of St. Vincent dePaul’s regret at the end of his life, “I do not know the name of a poor person,” we can try to continue building relationships with them, we can continue to look for the person in our midst. Bishop Ken Untener once said, “To find the poor you must go out of your way.  You must look with different eyes, for the poor feel we do not want them in the normal parts of our lives.”  When we are complaining about picking up our friend Manuel at the bus station, realizing that we have a “busy” schedule, we must be reminded of how we need him in our lives,  how we need each relationship to remind us not only of who we are, but of who God is.

Let us pause for a few moments, and think about those we know who experience poverty and marginalization and simply call them by name.

     2. Attention to the realities of present-day society, especially to the factors that cause an unequal distribution of the world’s goods, so that we can better carry out our prophetic task of evangelization.  As we were reflecting on this presentation, we remembered that when our country took an economic dive downward, CVV grew to two communities. We grew because the need was greater than ever. And we grew because people like all of you believe in young people with their ideals,  energy, fire and passion, and you continued to support us and all of the placements where volunteers work. 

It also means trying to keep in tune with the different generations of young people over these 25 years.  The pioneers of the first year were on fire to serve and to respond to a call for social justice.  25 years later, we hear some new motivations, such as a need to respond to the environmental crisis, a need to be more grounded in our faith.  Throughout these many years and alongside the speed of growth with technology, paying attention to the realities of our time has become more and more critical. 

How does this affect our conversion? We once heard that working with young people can keep you young.  Not so sure about that, but working with young people can keep opening new avenues, new inventions, new motivations, new perspectives, new questions that must be part of the ongoing growth and transformation of CVV. When we started CVV we didn’t have email, digital stories, Facebook, and these were not automatic additions for us. We also learned that we must realize how to keep the elements of our program that truly ground us in the mission  of inviting Young Adults into a process of transformation through companionship with people who live in poverty and are marginalized.

Hopefully, experiences along the way of dealing with volunteers who are struggling at their worksites, of getting pushback from 22-year-olds (isn’t that what they are supposed to do?), of trying to decide on a guideline or a rule for the houses, of having to come to the decision to ask someone to leave, of reviewing evaluations from volunteers who sometimes struggled more than we knew at the time, of sharing with one another the loss of life… hopefully, all of these experiences have given us more opportunities to empathize and to be humbled by the privileges that we have.  We must recognize these privileges, acknowledge them, act on them, recognize the opportunity for growth, and, at times, reconcile and seek forgiveness for them.

It’s interesting to think that during these 25 years, we have first been:   younger than the volunteers’ parents, then their parents’ age, and now more their grandparents’ age.  What does that say to us about transformation?!

Let us pause for a moment and think about the realities of today and what issues we must pay attention to so as to better respond.

     3.  Some sharing in the condition of the poor, so that not only will we attend to their evangelization, but that we ourselves may be evangelized by them. We MUST be evangelized by them. We MUST open ourselves to receive the loaf of bread that “the other” has to offer. We must hold up a mirror as we look at our neighbors, our brothers and sisters, our friends. AND, we must look at our lifestyle.  This is perhaps one of the hardest for us to talk about tonight, because we are so blessed to have so much: family members who are healthy and loving, our home and all that is in it, our jobs, our cars, the  opportunities for travel, our community, the list goes on. And what we constantly try to do is to recognize all as gift and to detach from each one, while at the same time to be inspired by others who are truly living life so simply that others may simply live, inspiring us to detach more and more.

            We have also realized over time that the young adult men and women who come to be part of CVV are witnessing to us this value of sharing in the condition of the poor, are witnessing to us the value of simplicity, are witnessing and reminding us of what they have to offer, and how “they must forgive us the bread that we give them.”  They have helped us to truly understand that we are all poor and that realizing that fact is realizing what Vincent DePaul meant when he evangelized so as to be evangelized.

Let us pause to reflect for a moment on how we are sharing in some condition of the poor, or how we are called to share in the condition of the poor.

     4.  Genuine community spirit in all our apostolic works, so that we may be supported by one another in our common vocation.  Perhaps at the core of this is our little community: our family, our relationship with each other, our children Sean and Katie who come along into this ministry.  As our co-worker Ryan can attest to, our early morning “walks and talks” are at the heart of how we process our ministry, of what we struggle with, of what we bring to the table. Our family relationship creates the grounding for us to do this for these 25 years. Monday night dinners become our family dinners, which Katie so often helps us to remember through her presence and her insistence on being here.  So many of our colleagues who work in other programs throughout the country face burn-out (what is burnout?) before they have the beautiful opportunity and the privilege to see so many of the fruits of our labors.  When alum come back and share the amazing things they are doing, the amazing families they raise, the amazing insights they have into their work, we are truly humbled.  Often when you alum return, you remember those long Mondays with appreciation for the reflection and the intentionality that were integral to our Reflection  & Discussion times, and you forget about the tiredness or the now-and-then questions about why we are doing this.  (Maybe this is when you realize why we love Theological Reflections! 

            And we are deeply humbled and we recognize our poverty through the gifts of the broader community that makes up CVV, through the staff (shout out to Adrienne who helps balance the books), through the generosity of donors, people who cook, people who serve on committees, people who give us advice, people who repair things at the houses (and we even once in a while bring an extension cord or lamp from home to fix!).  We are humbled and grateful to know that we cannot do this alone.  We gain new perspectives on businesses that offer their services to us, on Foundations that have a profound impact on services to marginalized people, on local parishes and pastors and communities of priests and sisters who have led the way for this lay organization to be created. One transformation we have experienced is a deepened understanding and awareness of gratitude.

Let us pause a few moments and recognize those who are part of each of our communities and be thankful for them.

     5.  Readiness to go to any part of the world, according to the example of the first missionaries of the Congregation. We are, and have always been, part of something bigger, part of something beyond the walls at 1732 and 1544 Pearl. The opportunity to travel and to be part of MISEVI, which is a collaborative group of Vincentian mission programs, gifts us with a broader view.   The privilege of studying Vincent in France is part of that gratitude and that bigger world, bigger community, broader perspective that has shaped our world, be it Kenya or 5-points, Capitol Hill or Honduras, Swansea or Guatemala, LoDo or Mexico; all the privileged places we have been help to shape a wider view and a readiness to go anywhere, which for us continues to be Denver.   And it offers us a view of the readiness of these young men and women to come to Denver and to have this place as their “anywhere” to serve.

            As we look back on these 25 years and more, we realize that each step of the way, each yes to the here and now, each time we made a change led to the next and led us to be HERE.  That call to “anywhere” is really to HERE.

Let us pause and think of the places that have formed us.

     6.  Striving to live in a state of continuous conversion, both on the part of each individual member and on the part of the whole Congregation, according to St. Paul, who counsels us:  “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.”  This is perhaps the crux of all of these characteristics.  When we are continuously opening ourselves to new perspectives, to voices of the voiceless, to reflecting on the “whys” of what we encounter so as to gain from the “wise” who surround us, to the struggles of seeing things differently than the person I am working with and we embrace the struggles along the way, we see that we are led to more creativity, to understanding that  “none of us is as smart as all of us,” to the realization of how our brothers and sisters (literally) are part of this messiness and this total conversion. 

So, we are grateful for the opportunity to begin this reflection on transformation.  Begin, because it must be an ongoing reflection that hopefully will ultimately lead us to truly understand what Tom Nelson reminds us:  we are radically dependent on God.  We are grateful for the holy ground of these 25 years. We are grateful for each and every person who makes CVV what it is, and for all those who ground us in what Vincent shared, “Go to the poor and you will find God.”

 

 

Temporary Bliss

Allison Duber,  CVV 23, went on a pilgrimage this past summer with five other CVV alum.  The pilgrimage was 1000 miles walking from Rome to Marburg over 58 days!  Can you imagine what that would be like?  Read her beautiful reflection below to get an idea of her transformative experience on the pilgrimage.

There are 10 days left of this pilgrimage and I am finally understanding what Job was talking about when he said, “For we were born but yesterday and know nothing. Our days on earth are as fleeting as a shadow.”

Everyday in pilgrim land goes by so fast. By the time I make it to the church, it is time to unpack my bag, wash up, clean my clothes, eat dinner, and set up for bed.

The constant movement from when I wake up in the morning until I lay down at night has made it too easy for my brain to squish days together and forget what even happened an hour ago.

There is so much seeing and doing and meeting and exploring and processing and never enough time to let it all sink in. There is really nothing to hold on to except the memory at the end of each day.

I am a passing shadow to whoever I meet.

I am there and then I am not.

It pains me that I cannot stay as long as I want in villages, but being a pilgrim is not about being a tourist. Ann told me that tourists come to see what he/she wants to see and a pilgrim comes to see what is there…end of story.

And I love meeting new friends here, but it can only be brief. I am not granted the gift to continue the friendship after that moment. It is temporary.

I remember back to the first couple days of this pilgrimage and how daunting it was to realize there were hundreds of miles ahead. It was like I was just learning how to walk.

But it has taken me this long to realize that this pilgrimage IS NOT ABOUT THE WALKING.

Ann always says that a silent pilgrim does the world no good. When we meet people along the way, she encourages us to tell them about our pilgrimage, where we are going, and why we choose to walk. If we do not share what we are doing to other people, then what’s the point?

Being on pilgrimage has taught me that everything I do here can translate into my life when I get back home. When I meet people at home, I can share who I am and my purpose for what I do and it just makes connection with other people so much richer.

Although it has taken me a while to understand a lot about myself and the world during this pilgrimage, I do not want to get to the end of my life and finally understand.

I want to get it now and live fully alive and not miss a beat. I am already 24, one year away from 1/4 of a century. My life is going by so fast, and I do not want to waste it.

I need to do the things that scare me and not be afraid of failure. If this trip has taught me anything it is that there is really no way to get lost if I keep moving.

I just have to remember:

No place will ever feel like a true home until heaven.

AND

No friendship or relationship will ever give me full and lasting satisfaction until I’m with my Father in heaven.

Throughout my years, I definitely have had temporary times of amazing happiness, joy, and peace. But it does not always last forever and that is okay. This time on earth is only but a shadow, so what are we gonna do with it?

 

July 2019 -Border Update

June 2019 – Matthew Norris

May 2019—Lauren Franklin

2019 Lenten Reflection

April 2019—Rachael Klos

March 2019 – Haley Todd

February 2019 – Jenny Jordan

January 2019 – Chris Morgan

October 2018 – Jeff Peterson

September 2018 – Allison Duber

August 2018 – Patrick Kluesener

July 2018 – Humberto Camarena

June 2018 – Erin Casey-DaCosta

May 2018 – Reflections from the CVV Blind Cafe Experience

2018 Lenten Reflections

March 2018 – Jen Gordon

February 2018 – Jenna Carbone

January 2018 – Katie Kerr

December 2017 – Maura Martin

November 2017 – Katie Cassady

October 2017 – Tara Williams

September 2017 – Kristen Gittinger

August 2017 – Chris Morgan

July 2017 – Cathryn Dutton

June 2017 – Joel Cassady

May 2017 – Elizabeth Lent

Holy Week and April 2017 – Sarah Ault

Lent 2017 Week 5 – Heather McCormack

Lent 2017 Week 4 – Michael Thomson

Lent 2017 Week 3 – Josie Johnson

Lent 2017 Week 2 – Christy (Titus) Thomson

Lent 2017 Week 1 – Diane Smith

February 2017 – Cassie Price

January 2017 – Dan Walsh

December 2016 – Shaughnessy Miller

November 2016 – Nikki Murillo and Kara Schmitt

October 2016 – Lynne Baumann

September 2016 – Brian Sheehan

August 2016 – John Taylor

July 2016 – Katie Cassady

June 2016- Jenna Carbone

May 2016- Tara (Bradley) Williams

April 2016- Alyson Hankwitz

March 2016- Kyle Earlywine

February 2016- Erin Kennedy

January 2016- Josh Wise

December 2015- Alison Mercier

November 2015- Mary (O’Neill) McManus

October 2015- Mallorie Gerwitz

September 2015- Christy (Titus) Thomson

August 2015- Chris Morgan

July 2015- Casey Sharp

June 2015- Jennay Smith

 

 

Border Experiences written by CVV 24 Volunteers-Mary Adam, Monica Amador, Hosanna Fortmeyer, and Morgan Neal

Hope Found at the Border

HOPE. Hope is the desire for something and the confidence in the possibility of its fulfillment.

If I learned anything from those we encountered at the border, it would be Hope.  a woman from El Salvador came into a make-shift shelter in El Paso with her little boy who was maybe 1 to 2 years of age.  I asked how she got here; it honestly didn’t hit me until then to ask that question. How do people travel from country to country? Some of the others in the room had said they had bussed through Mexico; this woman, however, said she did the journey on foot, all the way from El Salvador. I was struck by this. To think that not too long ago she was walking through Mexico to end up here in the U.S. seeking asylum; seeking refuge and a better life for her and her son.

It’s a 3-day hike from northern Mexico to El Paso.

Imagine 470 refugees dropped off by ICE on Friday and 530 refugees on Saturday? That’s 1,000 human beings leaving their homes in search for something better with no guarantees.

Picture this, $15 dollars earned for a day’s worth of work: $10 to save $5 to live on.

90 kids a day rely on 1 safe haven, Cristina’s “library” in Anapra

10,000 pesos a year to raise a family, but in reality, they’ll make 2,000 pesos

Factory workers make 80 pesos to 180 pesos a day with only 10 minutes for breakfast and 20 minutes for lunch. They have to put in a year of work before they receive 8 days vacation.  BUT they wait an additional 6 months before they’re allowed those vacation days.

I wonder, is that what our government does? Is that what Mexico’s government does? Somehow turn their own people’s lives and realities into numbers so they never see the faces.

But these people aren’t just numbers. There are stories attached to each and every one of them. Just like the hundreds of human beings leaving their homes in search of something better. They have a story to tell, and it’s about time we all listen.

One of the hotels serving as a hospitality center needed food to give out to the migrants. We furiously assembled PB&Js and bags of pretzels.  When we arrived at the hotel, we brought the food inside and saw a line of people in the hallway, standing or sitting against the wall, keeping a close hold on their children. They had ankle monitors on. I felt like all of them turned to us with the same look, the same eyes- big and hesitant and questioning. But smiling or greeting them would produce an immediate change in their demeanor- light came into their eyes, a flash of a smile, a nod of the head. I felt it go straight to my heart each time. “God,” I thought, “please help us do right by these people.”

That’s where that experience could have ended, was it not for a boy of about eight years old who was playing with a soccer ball in the parking lot. Felipe. Felipe had big brown eyes, a bright white smile, quick feet, and a shy manner that you felt could be a little swagger-y if you got to know him more.  We won’t know where he went after the hotel, how much of his life will be in the U.S., or if very soon his lightheartedness and fun would give way to fear and uncertainty. But that memory of playing soccer in the parking lot is a very special one for me, and brings back the feelings of joy, connection, and hope I felt in a place where I didn’t necessarily expect to find them. “Lord, help us to see the migrants as our neighbors, and to love them as ourselves.” 

I was constantly struck by many cots were lined up next to each other. I heard shouts in the air to make sure that families would be able to be together overnight. I kept thinking about how my clients at Lutheran Family Services in Denver felt going through this. This wasn’t a refugee camp, but they saw similar situations. The lucky asylum seekers saw this situation. All the beds lined up next to each other made me think of the classically referenced aerial photos of the white tents lined up in refugee camps.

When the sister pulled open a kitchen cupboard door, there were shelves filled with utensils and little things that clutter up a kitchen over time. I couldn’t stop staring at all the big plastic serving spoons. I just kept thinking about how much poverty there was concentrated in this little corner of the world and how many resources must have gone into all the spoons. I was struck by the fact that in the midst of this poverty, there was something so in abundance. But also by the fact that there are so many more important things in life rather than stockpiles of things.   

We don’t know the rest of their stories. We don’t know the beginning or the end. We don’t know specifically what they were escaping or what they were hoping for here. However, there is no doubt that they have hope. Why else would they even begin this long unknown path? For them to even think of starting this journey there must have been something inside telling them that there is something greater out there; to embark on this long and no doubt torturous path, there was a light of HOPE leading them to a seemingly better life.