Different kinds of re-entry

Dear family and friends,

The last sixteen months have resembled a roller-coaster ride; a bumpy, twisting, uncomfortable, exhilarating, emotional, and gut-wrenching ride. And I've never much appreciated amusement rides. There have been many ups and downs, unexpected turns, loud screams, fearful moments, joyous moments, and challenging, strange feelings about all of it. I still tremendously miss those in Peru who I left behind about a year and five months ago. I still pray the Lord's Prayer in Spanish as a feeble attempt to still feel connected to all that those four years meant to me and to acknowledge how transformative they were. I hold those memories, those experiences, those I served so dear in memory and in heart.

Most of our community of San Juan Camino de Esperanza,
Saint John Way of Hope

As Canadian astronaut, Chris Hadfield, returned to earth after several months on the International Space Station, there was an image on the evening news of him being helped from a helicopter, taking his first steps on earth. There was something in the image, in his stumbling walk, how he was held by others at his side to which I could relate. His adjustment involved the return to gravity with weakened muscles. And although my "re-entry" last year from life in Peru has its own unique story and was not a literal return to gravity, perhaps it was a return to a gravity of a different sort, instead to the North American "bubble".  The "bubble" of consumerism, materialism, secularism, and individualism to name a few.

It has been a vulnerable time. For several weeks and months I was just very sad and depressed, lonely for those I came to deeply love and care about. Sad for what was left behind and those whom I left behind to struggle with realities most of us North Americans can never imagine, trying to carry on the ministry with the children and youth from the surrounding barrio without a pastor or support (thankfully they now have a pastor!). For several months, I felt as if I had abandoned those I served, wanting to hop a plane at a moment's notice to go back.

Prior to church one Sunday, the girls play a game (I never could quite figure out the rules!),
in the little yard of the church compound....

At the outset, each place I returned to in Canada had its share of four years' worth of changes to adjust to, each area, each place I visited was different in some way and subconsciously, the brain makes the comparison. It was exhausting. There are other shocks or surprises along the way, too; not everyone is really interested in what happened to me in my experiences in Peru; priorities are different now; friendships have changed; we return from this time and are not the same. This is a good thing, by the way. But it means that we have stories to tell, experiences, challenges, and much to share. We have witnessed extremes of poverty, hunger, injustices, corruption, crime, pollution, overpopulation, to name a few. And so, we are not who we were and it takes time to figure out who one is now, in the re-entry, in this new reality.

All of this has left me feeling, at times, as though I had been on another planet or least in outer space, maybe on the International Space Station even. Maybe I should just be grateful to have made it safely back to Canada? No. It is so much more than that, it HAS to be about more than just feeling grateful for the opportunities and wealth, the health-care, clean water, education, etc, that we enjoy. No. This experience is much more. It changed me in every way a person can change.

But, this all leaves one feeling off-balance at times and looking like Mr. Hadfield walking on land for the first time in several months. One might feel as though one does not fit in anymore. Societal values and certainly many previously held cultural values are put into question. All things are new. The frame of reference is from a time in the past. Those of us who have lived in a developing country may have adapted more than we knew to our temporary home. We somehow accepted new cultural norms and ways of being in the world. And now, we return, to question our own cultural norms and values. Re-entry. It means so much, it challenges so much of who we are, of who we were and we continue to rediscover the depth of growth and change that has happened. What we can note is how our priorities have changed, our values, thoughts, opinions and perspectives are more clearly defined.

With our youth group of San Juan on our visit to the Museo de la Nación (National Museum),
a first elevator ride for many...a first look at the colonial history of their country...yes Machu Picchu is
not just a tourist destination, it is of historical and cultural significance to all Peruvians.

As a result of the sorrow, change, and challenge, among many other issues, it seems that I have spent time with those who understand the process of re-entry: international students; immigrants; refugees; returned missionaries; expats; those with a strong sense of global awareness; those who have experienced crises of their own, the types of challenge that these last four years brought into my life. I have spent more time with those whose cultural and societal values are in line with mine, who know that ones' value does not come from a new car or a new pair of shoes, but which rather comes from the love, grace, and acceptance of our gracious God. I have surrounded myself with those who have experienced or who are currently living cross-cultural, hybrid lives of their own, because they are immigrants, because they work in culturally diverse settings, because they work on the "other" side of the river, or have chosen to live sustainable lives.

There are still many challenges, more growth opportunities as I discover who I am now and who it is that God is calling me to be with all of those experiences of cross-cultural living. And on this new journey, one discovers the depth and wealth of God's grace and richness, and new life springs forth out of gratitude for what has been and then is able to accept and embrace those years so that they are incorporated into one's identity. Gravity, the reality, takes hold once again and it is with gratitude one continues.

Final worship service with Emaus congregation in Lima, Peru

It is with gratitude for all that has been that one can carry on. Thanks be to God for the hard, challenging years, the joyful, celebratory moments, and the many blessings that this now hybrid Canadian has experienced. May God continue to use, guide, inspire and enrich us all so that we may be faithful to God's calling in this Advent season, that our waiting may be active, and our listening, attentive to God's voice so that we may be strengthened to follow where God leads...Amen.

With hope, peace and joy...con mucha esperanza, paz y alegría continuamos en este camino de la fe!

Pastora Fran

Deep well of sorrow

It has welled up in me again. This very deep well of sorrow It is a grief beyond any known before. I have loved and lost before: two cousins to suicide, grandmothers, my only grandfather, a great aunt,  a mother's cousin, serious loved relationships that failed.  I have moved from towns, cities, communities in what number 33 moves now. There has been change, loss, and even grief for shifting relationships and jobs. And while one is strong and resilient, none of that has really prepared me for the tremendous sorrow that has been experienced over this past year and a bit of re-entry into Canada.

There is grief for severed connections and relationships, wondering how former parishioners are doing after journeying for years with them in their times of deep sorrows, fears, and worries. There is grief and loss over not walking any longer with those who struggle daily with difficult issues and tremendous challenges each day. When we in North America have so many financial resources (or access to those resources), we are still busy, working to make ends meet but seldom live without. One grieves not being there to listen, to support, to pray, and to journey with those precious Peruvian children of God. the play and laughter of children is missed, also. The children whose play and joy gives not a hint of the vulnerable and precarious realities of their world. One might not grieve for the conflict that erupts as a dormant volcano from time to time.Yet now, it is a missed opportunity for bringing peace, reconciliation and understanding, preaching and living the Gospel of life and salvation. This lived Gospel transforms mistrust and we can see the ways that God is working even through misunderstanding and conflict. To not be in ministry at this profound level marks a huge change of life and purpose. It creates and identity crisis of sorts.

One wonders the value of sending missionaries...the value of receiving missionaries, returned from such extreme circumstances, from being witnesses and sojourners with those suffering daily. One wonders the care that is given, now, to one's former congregation who had to wait 8 months, yes that's right, 8 months to receive the sacrament of holy communion. Such a pastoral shortage that one feels the children of God have been abandoned and ignored. Who are we as church if we are denying God's people the sacraments, the real means of grace as we proclaim them to be as Lutherans.

There is grief ....there is a deep well of sorrow and it rises to meet me from the depths of my gut, and at times it is difficult to breathe, to sleep. There are hopes and dreams for the ministry that have not, nor will ever, be realized now. There were trusted connections that have been severed. There were seeds planted, and I do not know the outcome of which have taken root, which will grow and sprout. The seeding had just begun amid the harshest of conditions. And all that was, is not the same.

The refiner's fire is more in the return than in the sending. This is a surprise! Canada four years later is a far cry from the one that was left. There is grief for the Canadian identity, being overshadowed in the name of development and under the guise of economic stability. Governmental dehumanizing decision-making affects not only our First Nations. Yet they are only ones speaking the truth. The rest are mesmerized by the almighty dollar, by bright, shiny new things. And it all sounds familiar. It sounds like a place one just left. And after years of waving the Canadian flag of it's better in my country, it is all rather disillusioning. The realities in my church and a sense of our loss of identity that parallels that of the Canadian identity is also deeply grieved.

The deep well of sorrow is mired with many complicating factors. Questions beg answers and there are none. It is a difficult struggle to accept what is and move forward. The Gospel and even Jesus, himself, calls us to not look back, to not be held back but to let go, name the truth, and move forward to "go and proclaim" the kingdom of God. It is a one day at a time journey. The grief will lessen. So I am told!

Few have understood. Few will ever understand the depth of sorrow, of loss, of loneliness that this journey has entailed. I grieve a people, a culture, a depth of faith and trust in God. Life is different here.

Let there be peace and grace abounding to help with the acceptance of what is a new reality and a new life here in this place. May the experiences, the loss, the grief, along with the joys of the last few years be a part of each cell, of each day. May God's love and grace reveal new life and possibility even as I struggle in the acceptance of what is, so that Gospel may also be lived and proclaimed here. God grant patience, understanding, and wisdom to replace the sorrow.

The day the boxes from Peru arrived!

With grace, peace and the love of God,

Pastora Fran

Skunk Documentaries

My father has long been a NatGeo fan. When we were children, he subscribed to the magazine, that was back in the 70's. He collected piles of them, often referring to them, and even re-reading them. When we had school projects, they were his first source of information. Even better when they came out with television, documentaries of every sort then they came out with their own network! He watched documentaries from all around the world. And when I was in India in 2005, in great awe and appreciation for all we saw and experienced, I thought of my father and the years of documentaries. They had been enlightening, inspiring, perspective broadening, and educational...a wonderful part of my growing-up years.

When I returned from India, I wanted to motivate my dad, showing him picture after picture, story after story of all we had seen. He enjoyed it thoroughly, adding more historical and geographical input. Then I asked him, "You have to go to India and see it for yourself, when can we go together." His simply reply, "No thanks, I enjoy seeing these places from the comfort of the sofa."

And so it is, and so it continues, some people just do not want to travel too far from home or from what is comfortable. Yet it happened again one night, as I found myself sitting with my parents during Christmas break and two weeks home with them. Sitting with my parents for the first time in four years, and what did we do you ask? We watched a documentary of course! Having traveled to many countries, and been introduced to various cultures and languages, having had life-changing experiences, an expanded world-view and perspective, been challenged in every way, seen things that they cannot even imagine. And, this is re-entry. We sat, together, and it was ok. We watched a documentary, this time about skunks. Yes skunks!

I did not understand why watching an hour worth of information about skunks was important and not talking to me about my travels, adventures, and experiences. One might have felt hurt except that my life was, and perhaps even still is, so far removed from that of my parents. The years in Peru cannot be summed up in one hour, even though I have tried in my re-entry with various presentations. The depth of change, growth, questioning and vulnerability cannot be summed up in a one hour documentary. Or perhaps it could but it just has not been done yet!

At that point, it had been six months. Parents are just happy that their daughter has returned to them, safe and sound. The daughter, instead, grieving, missing people, friends, parishioners and places. Mixed feelings of being happy to be with ones family sometimes gives way to sadness for the unknown period of time before one sees others loved as deeply in a far-off land.

And much like the beginning of my months at language school in Bolivia, I have stumbled over my words, often not understood certain phrases or expressions, not understood some of the new technology that greeted me back in Canada. There have been moments of not contributing to some conversations because I am simply not as interested as I used to be with a certain level of small-talk or superficial conversation or because those engaged in the conversation were using language, colloquialisms, or expressions from daily cultural norms, norms I had not yet integrated.

My father said that I didn't have to stay and watch the skunk documentary with them. But even in the midst of what I did not understand, I wanted to be with them, to just sit with them, to be grateful for them and their support in my life. I told him, "Dad, skunks don't interest me but you do." And so goes the adjusting and re-adapting to new realities and the figuring out who I am in the turbulence of it all.

Can I be grateful for skunk documentaries...sure! (once every four years or so)

With grace & peace...and blessings and more grace to those in their re-entries!

Fran