Time is an incredible thing. Sometimes I have a hard time realizing how quickly it has passed, but then something happens to wake me up and remind me of that constant progression toward the “next big thing.” This week was a week of those moments, the most incredible of which was a baby shower for one of my dearest friends here in Limon, Latoya.
When I arrived here in July of last year, Latoya either was not pregnant or had just become so within a few days of my arrival. We enjoyed that first month hanging out together and going to the beach, and I was surprised when she chose me to be one of the first people that she confided in when she discovered her situation.
At the time, it seemed like a million years before the baby would be here, and I remember thinking even then that it would strange to be here for the entire span of her pregnancy. I really struggled to wrap my brain around the idea that when I came to Costa Rica she was just a girl, really, and that she'd be a mother before the end of my term here.
Well, that time is nigh. Latoya is due early next month, and I am excited to be trusted with this life as a Godmother. This responsibility means a lot to me, as someone who- to my knowledge- does not have Godparents. I have always found it incredible that someone with no relation to a child can suddenly be as close to them as any natural parent, aunt, or uncle. This also puts me in an interesting situation as a godparent who lives in a different country from the godson; I want to be close to this baby and come through for him like a biological family member would, but I'm worried that distance might take too much of a toll
Of course, I probably wouldn't be thinking so much about this if it weren't for the fact that I now have two months before I leave Costa Rica. This time will fly, as the time before it has. The sad thing about this is that it seems like we just got things the way the should be. The house is settled and furnished, the teaching is working out fabulously this semester, and we've finally made a close network of local friends. It's sad to think that we're finally in a place to be our most effective and we only have a few months to enjoy the progress.
There will be others coming behind us, and there may be more moving and motivating stories about the students and the school. I know I haven't shared as many “Chicken Soup for the Soul” moments as some readers would've liked, but there were other things that stood out more in my mind. The honest truth is that this school will likely take a few years before it begins to bear the kind of fruit that we love to pray about and share with our friends, and I'm OK with that because there always has to be a first.
Future missionaries may write about crowded workshops and schedules that are overflowing with activities for their students, but I will remember the private lessons that no one attended and the advertising packets that never made it into the right hands. Why? Because those seeming missteps, along with many others like them, were essential to finding avenues and strategies that were effective. How could we know that taking a private lesson approach would increase our attendance and punctualize our payment system if we hadn't had a mediocre response from what we were previously doing? As we have been told, time and time again, we were the guinea pigs... and the experiment isn't over yet.
In the next two months, I hope to see great strides in my students' abilities. I hope to see a community resolve to hold each other accountable for the success and failures stemming from the programming. Most importantly, I hope to see an ecumenical community that realizes the value of the program and that has a strong passion for sharing it and it's products throughout the city of Puerto Limon. I hope that we have left a healthy plant behind to grow and grow even long past the ends of our lives.
In the meantime, having just come home from spending the evening with LaToya and her surprisingly outgoing baby bump, I will focus on making the most of the next two months and all of the opportunities that arise from them. And maybe, just maybe, when I come back in a few years to visit my sweet godson- Jhemyel Jsharu Jara Murray- there will be something here to prove that the hard little seed we planted has not only sprouted, but has bloomed brilliantly.
Monday, March 16, 2009
The Blog I was supposed to post two weeks ago... Peace, Love, and Jesus Christ Superstar
This week marks the start of my favorite part of the church year. That's right, it's Lent... and I love it. The next forty days, more or less, sum up for me exactly why I am a Christian and I look forward to them every year with an anticipation similar to most people and Christmas.
One of my annual traditions for Lent is watching and listening to the incredible Andrew Lloyd Weber musical Jesus Christ Superstar. I still remember the first time I heard the record, in particularly the scene where Jesus confronts the moneychangers in the temple. I was in third grade, and the record made enough of an impression that when I received my first CD player a few years later, the soundtrack was my first CD.
What I absolutely love about Jesus Christ Superstar is the passion in the portrayal. This is not some everyday tale about Jesus as a happy-go-lucky guy just goofing off in Jerusalem two thousand years ago- from start to finish it is a very serious take on the story that is, at it's core, the reason why we call ourselves Christians. It's raw, it's serious... it's utterly heartbreaking.
I bring up this musical for a good reason this week. Not because it's Lent, or because I want you all to go out and rent the video or buy the soundtrack and follow my holiday routine. No, I bring it up because this week I saw it change someone's life, right here in Limon.
Last week a coworker of mine from the call center invited me to go out and have dinner and go dancing with her after work. I was hesitant to accept- I didn't know what a night out with this coworker would lead to, and I definitely did not want to end up in a compromising position. Yet, at the same time I really wanted the experience of going out with friends like a normal Limonense would do... and so I accepted the offer and went out on the town.
We had a lovely dinner, and eventually ended up in a small club where they were playing old Spanish love songs on the televisions. Of course I don't know any of these old love songs, so I was surprised to recognize the tune that suddenly filled the air. Drea, the coworker I was with, started to sing along and it only took me a moment to realize that the tune was from Jesus Christ Superstar.
Drea, of course, had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned it to her. She only looked at me blankly and said that it was a love song about a man who vowed to fight for his lover. I explained the song, where it came from. I told her about how the original song was about Christ in Gethsemane, and his frustration with God's plan for his death as a sacrifice. This started a very interesting conversation whereby Drea confessed that although she'd been raised as Catholic, she had little understanding of Christ and the meaning of his death. Well, that got me thinking, and the next day I slipped her a copy of the soundtrack for her to listen to.
Initially I thought she'd take it home and forget about it, so imagine my surprise when she came in to work a few days later and immediately embraced me. When we had break time, she pulled me aside, thanking me over and over again for introducing her to the musical. As it turns out, Drea has a very difficult family situation- she has two brothers in jail... one for armed robbery and the other for murder. As it turned out, the music touched her deeply... deeply enough that she took it to the prison and played it for both of her brothers. She told me that her oldest brother had wept as he listened to Christ's trial before Pilate, and how he had begged her to bring the disc again next time she visited.
As if that weren't enough, she then proceeded to tell me how it had changed her view of Christ. “I didn't realize,” she said, “That he was just a man. He was just like me, or my friends... he wasn't some guy that just went along with the plan. It hurt him to do what he did.” Then she really surprised me, as tears came to her eyes. “Somehow,” she whispered, “that makes his death mean a whole lot more.”
Of course, this is just the beginning for Drea. We have talked a lot since then, and I guess what is really important is that this experience has unlocked the possibility that she might someday accept that she is worth the sacrifice of Christ; she's on the way to changing her life profoundly. I don't know what will happen from here for her, but I will do my best to encourage and strengthen as I am able.
In the meantime, I have rented the movie at the local rental place and can't wait to sit down with it, like I do every year, and give thanks for a sacrifice that is still continuing to redeem two millennia later.
One of my annual traditions for Lent is watching and listening to the incredible Andrew Lloyd Weber musical Jesus Christ Superstar. I still remember the first time I heard the record, in particularly the scene where Jesus confronts the moneychangers in the temple. I was in third grade, and the record made enough of an impression that when I received my first CD player a few years later, the soundtrack was my first CD.
What I absolutely love about Jesus Christ Superstar is the passion in the portrayal. This is not some everyday tale about Jesus as a happy-go-lucky guy just goofing off in Jerusalem two thousand years ago- from start to finish it is a very serious take on the story that is, at it's core, the reason why we call ourselves Christians. It's raw, it's serious... it's utterly heartbreaking.
I bring up this musical for a good reason this week. Not because it's Lent, or because I want you all to go out and rent the video or buy the soundtrack and follow my holiday routine. No, I bring it up because this week I saw it change someone's life, right here in Limon.
Last week a coworker of mine from the call center invited me to go out and have dinner and go dancing with her after work. I was hesitant to accept- I didn't know what a night out with this coworker would lead to, and I definitely did not want to end up in a compromising position. Yet, at the same time I really wanted the experience of going out with friends like a normal Limonense would do... and so I accepted the offer and went out on the town.
We had a lovely dinner, and eventually ended up in a small club where they were playing old Spanish love songs on the televisions. Of course I don't know any of these old love songs, so I was surprised to recognize the tune that suddenly filled the air. Drea, the coworker I was with, started to sing along and it only took me a moment to realize that the tune was from Jesus Christ Superstar.
Drea, of course, had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned it to her. She only looked at me blankly and said that it was a love song about a man who vowed to fight for his lover. I explained the song, where it came from. I told her about how the original song was about Christ in Gethsemane, and his frustration with God's plan for his death as a sacrifice. This started a very interesting conversation whereby Drea confessed that although she'd been raised as Catholic, she had little understanding of Christ and the meaning of his death. Well, that got me thinking, and the next day I slipped her a copy of the soundtrack for her to listen to.
Initially I thought she'd take it home and forget about it, so imagine my surprise when she came in to work a few days later and immediately embraced me. When we had break time, she pulled me aside, thanking me over and over again for introducing her to the musical. As it turns out, Drea has a very difficult family situation- she has two brothers in jail... one for armed robbery and the other for murder. As it turned out, the music touched her deeply... deeply enough that she took it to the prison and played it for both of her brothers. She told me that her oldest brother had wept as he listened to Christ's trial before Pilate, and how he had begged her to bring the disc again next time she visited.
As if that weren't enough, she then proceeded to tell me how it had changed her view of Christ. “I didn't realize,” she said, “That he was just a man. He was just like me, or my friends... he wasn't some guy that just went along with the plan. It hurt him to do what he did.” Then she really surprised me, as tears came to her eyes. “Somehow,” she whispered, “that makes his death mean a whole lot more.”
Of course, this is just the beginning for Drea. We have talked a lot since then, and I guess what is really important is that this experience has unlocked the possibility that she might someday accept that she is worth the sacrifice of Christ; she's on the way to changing her life profoundly. I don't know what will happen from here for her, but I will do my best to encourage and strengthen as I am able.
In the meantime, I have rented the movie at the local rental place and can't wait to sit down with it, like I do every year, and give thanks for a sacrifice that is still continuing to redeem two millennia later.
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