The Visit

Last Thursday at 5 p.m. one of my lay leaders called. Another church member had just called her with the following story and a question, "What can the church do?" The lay leader relayed to me the story and repeated the question, "What can the church do?".

There was a lady who was so sick that she was hospitalized at Pitt County Memorial Hospital (where the family from my congregation met her). She is recently arrived from CA and has a 5 week old baby girl. Social services is involved and might take the baby away since no one can care for her. The lady is from an indigenous part of Mexico; Spanish is her second language. She has no family here and could use some clothing for the baby. What can the church do?

On the phone that evening, I had no idea how to respond. We could gather some clothing for the baby. We could pray. I asked my lay leader for time to think about it.

Sunday morning at church the praise report was given that the lady had been released from the hospital and was now home. There was a bag of baby clothes that had been collected/bought. I arranged to go with a church member to visit the lady on Monday.

Monday morning the church member called to say that she can't go that day after all. I had only that day to go, so I got the address and collected the baby clothes. Discovering that the lady lives in Spring Hope (about an hour from Unidos por Cristo), I called two pastor friends who live in that area. One is a native Spanish speaker. The other is part of Faith Christian Ministry that provides clothing, food, help paying bills, etc. according to the need. Neither could go with me that day but both asked me to call them afterward with how they can help.

I had the address, but didn't know whether it was a trailer, a small house, etc. I drove up the long dirt road grateful that I drive a small SUV. At the end of the road was the house number, and number actually belonged to a set of three buildings that made up a migrant workers' work camp. I'd seen them before, from the road. Never up close. I entered what seemed to be the "main" structure, which was not completely enclosed. The high on Monday was in the 40s with a windchill that felt like the 30s. I called out "hello" and "buenas." No response. I listened carefully and knocked on the first door I heard sound coming from. Fortunately, the lady I was looking for was visiting her neighbor behind that door.

The lady took me over to another building. She lives in one room (about 8'x10', I'd guess) with her 15 or 18 year old brother (he's given both figures as his age) and her 5 week old baby girl. The room was warm. It had three beds and a crib with space to walk around each. Clothes were hanging from clothes lines strung across the room. The lady was grateful for the baby clothes I brought. I also gave her some Wal-mart gift cards I had at the church office. Then I had to explain how to use them. I asked if they had a bible and learned that she cannot read. The baby woke up and was the smallest baby I have ever seen outside of a hospital. I learned later that she was born seven weeks early. Communication was a little hard since we were both speaking our second languages. The lady and her brother had come from CA to work in the tobacco fields, but there was no work anymore. At the end of my visit, I said a prayer over the family and left.

I've witnessed poverty firsthand before. I've visited folks in old and poorly maintained trailers, in huts made of tarps and a tin roof, and in old inner-city row houses when the power's been turned off. But this family was the poorest I had seen in a few years and the poorest I have ever met in North Carolina.

My pastor friends have followed up with the lady and asked the "correct" questions, things like: what is the heat source, do you have food, where do you prepare it, do you have enough clothing, what are your needs? Things I hadn't thought to ask; I was too busy just looking around that one room.

A Little Something Different

Things have been going better at the church since September. Attendance has slightly increased. The youth became active again. Those of us who met at the last women's meeting all had the same realization: Monday night bible study (for all) at the church wasn't working, we ought to start having bible study in people's homes. So I pulled out my calendar and church directory to ask whose house first and when we were going to start. We started last Monday; one of my lay speakers led the study since I couldn't go. Praise God for lay leadership!

This past Sunday we celebrated Christ the King Sunday (in accordance with the Revised Common Lectionary) and Thanksgiving, with a big meal after the service. The service was my longest one ever, two hours. When that was pointed out to me, I pointed out that they'd still be going with the previous pastor - the services he led averaged two and a half hours!

Part of why the service went long was because I began my sermon a little differently. I asked how it was with their soul and how their spiritual life was. I asked if they felt ready and excited to celebrate the kingship of Christ or if they felt a little down. Then I asked the congregation to take 5 minutes and break up in pairs and share with each other how it was with their soul, how they were really doing, with no lies or glossing over. I reminded them that we are a family (somos familia), that we are trustworthy (somos de confianza), and that we don't gossip about each other (no contamos chismes). Most folks paired up although there were a couple groups of three. I have no idea how long we shared with each other. There is no clock in the sanctuary and I don't wear a watch. I have no idea if all groups stayed on topic; I didn't check up on the groups. But after my group was mostly done, I called time and asked folks to move back to their seats. And then I asked if folks now felt more ready to celebrate Christ the King and Thanksgiving. The answer: YES!

Too Many Halloween Hats

As the sole pastor and only employed person at Unidos por Cristo, I've gotten used to wearing different hats: pastor, preacher, pray-er, cleaner, driver, youth pastor, children's ministry consultant, minister of visitation, worship planner, administrative assistant, and more. However, usually each role happens one at a time. I'm either writing a sermon OR I'm visiting a family. I'm taking out the trash OR I'm wandering a corn maze with the youth. However, on Halloween Sunday, all these roles collided.

It was already a busy Sunday. The youth were selling food to raise funds to go to Pilgrimage. We had gone shopping the previous day to get supplies. I got to the church early. The youth got to the church early (the bigger surprise). Others helped the youth in the kitchen preparing the food so that the youth could help direct the service (read the Scriptures, lead prayers, etc.). Three volunteers never made it to the service they were so busy getting things ready for the meal after the service. My husband was grill-master. The youth sold all the food they made. It went well.

After people had started to leave after eating their hamburgers, fries, and cupcakes (the menu the youth chose), the praise band wanted me to practice with them for the two bilingual songs they'd be playing for the charge conference worship service. They felt comfortable with the songs, just hesitant about their English pronunciation. So we start. Then the leadership team chair comes in to ask a couple questions and I leave practice to put on my administrative hat. I return to practice. Then my husband comes in to tell me goodbye. He gets a quick kiss; my wife hat didn't stay on very long. I go back to singing with the praise band. Then one of the youth comes in to say goodbye but I need to talk to him so I go with him to my office to get the Pilgrimage permission form for him and explain next week's plans. Youth pastor hat. And then back to the temporary musician hat. Again.

The good news is that the charge conference worship service went very well this past Sunday afternoon. It was a cluster charge conference, meaning that it was Unidos por Cristo and about ten other churches for worship, then we split up for our separate business meetings. Since Unidos por Cristo is a mission church and not chartered, we didn't have to have a business meeting. So I don't know how those went but I know that worship was wonderful!

Applause in Church

During high school and college, I developed some very strong ideas. For example, I still truly believe that most parents do the best they can raising their children. Sometimes their best isn't good enough for their child, but I believe most parents really do try.

Another strong idea was that applause has no place in church. Too often to me, applause ran the risk of applauding the musicians and not being actually directed at God. (In white churches, applause usually occurs after a particularly moving piece of music.) It was better, therefore, to abstain. And I have been possibly the only one in a congregation to not clap at such times, so strongly did I believe that it was better not to clap.

Now, I pastor a Hispanic church. It is a "typical" Hispanic church in that it falls into the category my mom calls "joyful noise" churches. Lots of clapping. During songs. After songs. Before songs. And when the music leader calls for an applause for God after a praise song, I clap, too. Perhaps it's because it's so explicitly stated, as this is clapping for God. Perhaps it's because I sit in the front row and my actions are very obvious to the rest of the congregation and I want to show my support for my music leader. Lately, though, I've found that I don't mind giving God a hand.

This past Sunday something quite unusual happened, unusual for any church. I preached from the lectionary and at the end of my sermon, repeated Jesus' question at the end of the Lukan passage, "When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?" (Luke 18:8). Then I said, if he will find faith in you, please stand and affirm that faith now with the Hispanic Creed (written by Justo Gonzalez; found in 'Mil Voces'). At the end, I repeated what God said in the Jeremiah text, "For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more" (Jer. 31:34) and I said that since we have this promise that God will forgive us our wickedness and remember our sins no more, let us now confess our sins. After the standard United Methodist prayer of confession, I asked them to pray for a few minutes in silence. And then I gave a slightly altered United Methodist pardon,

"Hear the good news: Christ died for us while we were yet sinners; that proves God's love toward us. In the name of Jesus Christ, we are forgiven! Glory to God! Amen."

The congregation burst into spontaneous applause. Wow.

Rest, Sabbath, Day Off, etc.

Friday is usually my day off from church. However, the church doesn't know that; I don't think I've ever told them. While I refrain from doing much church work on Fridays, when a church member calls, I answer. I want them to think that although I live two hours away, I'm still there for them when they call, even if I'm trying to take a day off. I say Friday's usually my day off because sometimes it's not. A pastor's schedule can be so erratic, that it can be hard to have a consistent day off. Things come up and have to happen on Fridays. Then, I try to switch to another day to rest, but not always successfully.

A mentor colleague recently shared with me something he'd read recently (I forget the book's name): we are made to work from rest, not rest from work. Humanity was made on the sixth day and on day seven, God rested and presumably all creation, too. We didn't start work til day eight. We rested before we worked. How different would it be if we really worked from rest? Refreshed from the weekend to begin work Monday (or Sunday for pastors) vs. tired from the week and ready for the weekend? Rested from a night's sleep vs. coming home from work ready to crash?

As a student and as a teacher, I took Sundays off from doing any kind of schoolwork. I tried not to even think about it (usually successfully). As a pastor, I'm having a lot more trouble.

Last Sunday was my first Sunday off, and it was great! Instead of sermon prep when I was in town, I visited five families! And instead of sermon writing when I was at home, I started packing to move in a few weeks. Then I spent a couple days at Duke's Convocation and Pastor's School and felt more refreshed spiritually and more exhausted physically. Now, I'm back to feeling stressed again and struggling with the self-discipline of taking a day off. If only I could figure out how to work from rest rather than rest from work... Maybe I need to find that book.

Cross-Cultural Ministry

When I was preparing to serve in Nicaragua, I went through lots of training and tests that looked at how well I functioned in foreign settings and gave me advice in how to cope. On the adaptability test, I scored the highest in my group.

When I returned from Nicaragua, I attended a debriefing workshop. One exercise was to mash together yellow and blue play-doh to show how the country you served in had affected you. One color represented your home culture; the other color was the host culture. Mashed together, you could no longer completely separate them again. Most people's play-doh turned green, but not mine. Instead, believing that I was following the directions, I carefully mashed together my play-doh so that the yellow and blue were stuck together, but not mixed together. One side was yellow, the other side was blue, and only held up to the light could you see green. The workshop leader called me a chameleon, able to blend in wherever I am.

The fact that I am a European-American serving a Hispanic church makes this ministry technically cross-cultural. But I have spent enough time in Hispanic countries and studying Spanish cultures that the cross-cultural part isn't stressful to me.

Instead, what is the most cross-cultural, where I have the most trouble blending in, is the setting of this Hispanic church, which is rural.

I don't do rural. In any country. In rural places, I stand out. The smallest town I've ever lived in was Asheboro, NC in the early 1990s. In 2005, Asheboro reported 23,046 inhabitants. The city where I lived in Nicaragua in 2005 had 100,000 people. Unidos por Cristo is located in Grimesland, NC, whose 2009 population was 470.

Cross-cultural white American to Hispanic I can handle. But urban to rural is a whole other ball game.

Hard Work

The hardest part of my ministry at Unidos por Cristo isn't the two-hour drive there. It's not the fact that it's cross-cultural or in a different language. It's certainly not planning bible study or the youth group's meetings. What I have to put the most work into are my sermons. Most pastors have all week to write them, finishing them Saturday night, maybe even rewriting on Sunday morning.

My Grandpa, a retired Methodist elder, recently told me the story of when my mom was young and was asked when her dad wrote his sermons. Her answer? Saturday night in front of the television watching hockey. In the 1960s (and probably at least into the 1980s), Grandpa hand-wrote and revised his sermons during the week and typed them on the typewriter Saturday night watching the Philadelphia Flyers play.

I don't have the luxury of a typewriter or of waiting until Saturday night. Because Spanish is my second language and I want to make the Word as plain as possible, I have editing help with my sermons. My accent may get in the way. I may talk too fast. The youth in the back row will laugh when I stumble over a word, which will inevitably happen. But I want the words I'm trying to say to be right. My deadline for sermon writing is Thursday lunch. By Thursday lunch, I email the week's sermon either to Rev. Luis Reinoso, another retired Methodist elder, or to Ms. Idia Piacenti, an administrative assistant at Duke Divinity School for the Thriving Rural Church Initiative and the Hispanic House of Studies. They review my grammar, my word choice, my verb conjugations, my word order, etc. and email the corrected version back to me by Saturday lunch. I then print it out and read it out loud at least once before putting it in my bag for Sunday morning.

For me, sermon writing is work. I have to make myself sit at the computer and type my notes (in Spanish). I read the commentaries and translate them and add them to my notes. Yes, I write my sermons in Spanish; it saves time and energy to just do it in one language. The Spanish spell-check helps a lot. But I have to make myself sit and write the sermon. Nothing else I do as a pastora requires so much self-discipline to get it done.

What I am most looking forward to about my Sunday off next week (Oct 10) is not writing a sermon!

Love Wins!

***If I disclose anything that I shouldn't be disclosing, please let me know and I'll revise or delete this post.***

Last Friday I was picked up from my apartment complex about 9:30 a.m. We drove to Charlotte, home of the closest Immigration Court for the state of NC. After stopping for a bite to eat, we arrived at the building around 12:15 p.m., just before the family from my church. The other pastor prayed before all of us except the Sra. went inside. According to the government, the Sra. has no status in this country; a really sad sentence. What does it mean to have no status, not even a low status? We waited in the hallway before the court opened at 1 p.m. The kids, all U.S. citizens, showed me their soccer pictures and assorted school certificates that they had brought. At 1 p.m., we went through the metal detector to the waiting room, along with two other families. The other families went into the courtroom before us, because their cases were shorter and simpler. One lady left the courtroom crying. I pulled out a little notebook I had brought in case I needed to take notes (what was I thinking?!) and played tic-tac-toe with one kid before turning over the notebook and pen to the kids to play games. The first phrase for the first hangman game was one work: 'hope.'

Then, we all trotted in to the courtroom and the judge was surprised by how many of us there were (4 adults, 5 kids, and 1 lawyer). After recognizing the kids, they were sent out to the waiting room with one adult. I got to sit and witness the whole thing. After hearing the respondent's testimony, the judge was leaning toward him staying because if he was deported, he would take the whole family with him and 1) one child has a serious heart condition needing regular follow-up; 2) another kid is a junior in high school and wants to go to college; and 3) the only work available to them in Mexico is fieldwork. But, the chief counsel said she'd reserve the right to appeal. So, the judge called in the oldest child who talked about how great his visit to Mexico was visiting his grandparents and that he wanted to go to college and not work in the fields. I couldn't believe the counsel almost asked him, "What do you have against fieldwork?" Fortunately, the kid didn't hear her and she didn't repeat herself. Then the other pastor testified to his relationship with the family and what a great father and church member the respondent is. The lawyer said that testimony sealed the deal. The judge proclaimed that "the deportation order is canceled" - such a phrase that doesn't adequately convey the emotions it causes - Yay! Gloria a Dios! He gets to stay! The kids get to stay! He gets to apply to be here legally. The lawyer doesn't think the counsel will appeal, but they do have 30 days to do so. We walked out about 4 p.m. a little stunned to tell the kids, "Good news!" The sra. cried when we told her outside in the parking lot. We celebrated at Pizza Hut. It was funny to arrive at Pizza Hut and three of us were on our cell phones.

I got my notebook and pen back with lots of games played and a prayer written by one kid in Spanish: (my translation)

Holy God, help me. Let my dad stay, please. I ask you from my heart. Please let him stay. From my heart. Amen.

Even though all I did was show up, the oldest kid told me, "Gracias, pastora."

Radical Hospitality and Extravagant Generosity

Unidos por Cristo is a mission church; it is not self-sustaining. Our ministries rely on the hospitality and generosity of other churches, individuals, the Greenville District, and the North Carolina Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church. The hospitality and generosity take various forms, but I would like to highlight two United Methodist churches in Greenville:

One of these churches sends a check every month marked "pastor's salary," for which I am very grateful. This same church, when I went to visit to thank them for their support, told me to consider their missions team as my extended staff. Wow! I have staff!

The second church has said (if churches could talk), "You need to transport 7 people? Here's a 15-passenger van! You need a place to stay? Here's a house!" I'm not kidding. At the beginning of my time here, I spent the night with another pastor at her parsonage in Washington. However, for the past few weeks, she's had a mold problem at the parsonage that still isn't completely gone. I mentioned to another pastor about needing a place to stay, and he suggested the retreat house of this church. A block away from the church, it has 5 bedrooms and 3 full baths. The kitchen is stocked with disposable kitchenware. Many small groups affiliated with the church meet at the house, so there are tons of chairs. There are also tons of books, as it is a retreat house. This house is such a blessing! When I went to pick up the key one time from the church office, I mentioned my need for a vehicle that held 7 people. Five youth, my husband, and I were going to a ballgame and we would not all fit in my RAV-4 or my husband's '98 Mustang. The church office staff told me to fill out a short form and let them copy my driver's license, and I could borrow the church van! Ask and ye shall receive!

The Most Pleasant Surprise: the Youth

Before seminary, I was an elementary school teacher. I love kids and I love being around them! Also, I've always claimed to like the little kids better than the big kids and that all middle school and high school teachers are crazy to teach that age group. Now, in addition to being pastor, bible study leader, counselor, worship planner, cleaner, etc., I find myself in charge of the church youth group.

Leading a youth group is doubly weird for me because I was in a youth group for only two years of the whole time I was a youth. My family moved a lot in those years and only one of the three churches we attended had an active youth group. In a nutshell, I was dreading becoming the Youth Minister.

But, God is full of surprises and the youth at Unidos por Cristo are one of them! There are eight youth who come, rising sixth through twelfth graders. In four meetings, there has not been even a hint of misbehavior. They do what I ask them to do. They participate and choose our activities (some of which I suggest and some of which are their ideas). Youth group is the one activity at Unidos por Cristo that is primarily in English. And afterward, or after I talk with one of them on the phone, I feel rejuvenated! I am excited! It's as if I were teaching third graders, or playing with four year old's. I enjoy the youth!!

EBV (a.k.a., VBS)

I did not write last week because I was too tired. La Escuela Bíblica de Vacaciones (Vacation Bible School) was last week. It was the first time Unidos por Cristo ever held their own escuela; usually they sent their kids to a nearby church’s VBS. There was no curriculum from Cokesbury, because Cokesbury doesn’t have any in Spanish. Yes, these kids are bilingual, but some of the mothers are not. However, the ladies decided that we have enough kids, we should do our own VBS, and they wrote their own curriculum for four days, two hours each day.

The Escuela was called “Niños y Niñas de Fe” (Boys and Girls of Faith). The Bible stories centered on those time when Jesus brought someone back from the dead, often because of the faith of their friends or loved ones.

Of course, we sang, because you can’t have VBS without music! Instead of figuring out how to burn music from YouTube onto CD, I hooked the church laptop up to the stereo system in the sanctuary. (Yes, the laptop is actually sitting on the altar.)


Out blasted “Levantate y Anda” (Get Up and Walk)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAFMBinYnwI

and “El Siervo del Centurion” (The Centurion’s Servant)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HxvuFW5wTUA

The music director had the kids act out the scenes to “Levantate and Anda” – a mother who lost her son in the town of Nain, the man who lost his son, and the two sisters crying in Bethany over their brother, Lazarus. The refrain says (in my translation into English): “Get up and walk; I am the life. Get up and walk; you were born to live!”

A total of 24 different children attended, although never more than 21 on any given day. Eight mothers and five youth ran the show. Since they weren’t sure if I’d be there, I was only assigned to pray each day and to press the button for the music! The best VBS job ever! (My other job turned out to be giving rides when various family vans broke down; not a bad job, either, although a bit stressful when one van broke down on busy Greenville Blvd. God provided enough for the mom to turn the van into a parking lot before it gave out!)

On Friday, at the end of the week, we held a program in the evening for the parents and it was a smashing success! However, by Friday, I was worn out because I’d been at the church six days in a row, all day during the day each day. I was planning to stay at Joan’s parsonage Friday during the day, but workers came to install new fire/smoke alarms in the church building and unlike the workers installing the central a/c and heat, these guys didn’t have their own key. That meant I had to be there, too. The other reason I was worn out is that I take my strongest weekly rheumatoid arthritis medication on Saturday, in order to be at my best on Sunday. By the end of the week, my energy level is pretty low normally, and it was only lower because of being gone all week and VBS and no rest except in the evenings. I have still been recuperating this week.

Location, Location, Location!

Unidos por Cristo meets in the building that used to house Grimesland UMC. Grimesland UMC was closed in 1990; Unidos por Cristo was planted in 2000 and the building was fixed up to make it suitable again for a church. The building is in the center of town on the main street through town. What prime real estate!

On the east side of town is a NC Historical Marker for Major General Brian Grimes (1828-1880) of the Confederate Army. His family owned a plantation called Grimesland that roughly covered the same land that is today the town of Grimesland.

In case you hadn't guessed, there are no traffic lights in Grimesland. It is the smallest town in which I have ever spent significant amounts of time.

The other Sunday I walked my husband over to the tienda, La Potosina, to get a Coke before he headed home. La Potosina is also in the center of town, just a block away from the church. Lee was astonished as we walked past Town Hall and the Police Station on the way to the tienda. I told him, "Welcome to Mayberry!" (which is based on Mount Airy, NC).

I walked to the Post Office this past week, across the street from Town Hall, the Police Station, and La Potosina. (I think I get a lot of looks when I walk, because I'm the only pedestrian, but I'm not driving just to go a block down the street!) There were two spaces in the parking lot next to it, both labeled "10 minutes parking for Post Office." Ten minutes! When I go to the Post Office, I allot at least 20 minutes because I expect to stand in line for 10 minutes, minimum! Moreover, I walked to the Post Office about 12:10 p.m. Guess what? The Post Office is closed from 12-2 p.m. daily.

Downtown Grimesland: Town Hall, the Police Station, and La Potosina are on the right; the Post Office is on the left. The view is taken from just past Unidos por Cristo UMC.


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Week 2: Communion and Bible Study

This past Sunday was my first time ever blessing the communion elements and it was cool! I've struggled to find the right words to describe it. There is something that happens in saying the words of institution and then offering that bread and wine to the congregation that is so much beyond my actions.

And this congregation seems to be HUNGRY for life-giving food. They hang on my every word when I preach (hopefully it's not always because they're trying to understand me!). While I prefer to be brief and risk saying too little than saying too much, I think I might need to preach longer in order to feed them more (and in order for children's Sunday school, which occurs at the same time, to have more time!).

In order to avoid the mistakes I made last week, the dirigidora del servicio (a.k.a., liturgist) took it upon herself to make sure there was a printed order of worship besides the PowerPoint. I had also printed out one with the same goal in mind, but I only made one copy and never got it back from her. She helped more by appointing her husband to say the prayer over the offering, so that I couldn't forget it. I did still pronounce the benediction before the announcements - believe it or not, there's no space for announcements in the order of worship in the hymnal and after communion I was just following the end of the service as outlined, having completely forgotten about the PowerPoint and having lost my printed copy.

I felt much more in my element Monday night when we resumed the weekly bible study. Teaching and facilitating bible studies are church activities I'm used to doing, unlike preaching and presiding at the table. We did a short study I put together and then I presented them with four options for how to proceed next with the weekly study. I hope I didn't influence them too much, but they picked my favorite option - Discipulado (or Disciple bible study in Spanish)! Eight of the ten folks who came said they could commit to doing it, a commitment which I had worried about beforehand would turn people off from the study (it's 34 weeks with daily reading to prepare for the weekly group gathering). THEN I talked with my District Superintendent the next morning AND she said there are funds in the District specifically marked for Disciple bible study!! I was wondering how we were going to be able to afford the study, but God had already provided!!!

The First Couple Days

My first Sunday was last Sunday, June 27. The service was a comedy of errors for which the lay leaders gently corrected me each time (like forgetting to bless the offering until after I'd given the benediction). Praise God for a gracious congregation!

My first day in the office was Monday, June 28. The painters beat me to the church that morning and I chatted with one of them on the way in (being one female among 5 or so unknown men, it's best to find that fine line between being friendly but not flirty). He asked about the congregation and I said that the service is all in Spanish and I preach in Spanish. He told me that I speak English pretty good! (It's only my native language...)

That day in the office I had 3 computers with me: the church's old laptop, the church's new laptop, and my personal laptop. The old laptop I set up to defragment all morning (it took 3 hrs) so it was out of commission. The new laptop I couldn't get in to because I didn't know the password. Out of three computers, I could only use one!

I feel like I've been gaining a southern accent the longer I live consecutively in North Carolina (on and off since 1993; the current streak is 3 1/2 years). A lot of it may be being at Duke Divinity School the past 3 years with people from around the country and the world. Then I went to Joan's church's potluck in Washington, NC Sunday evening and I was asked if I had folks up north (why, yes I do). So much for that southern accent.

Finally, the church sign, pictured above. Heather is a very difficult name in the Spanish-speaking world (my parents had no idea when they named me for a purple Scottish flower from my heritage). My name has been spelled Geder (a Spanish phonetic spelling that at least pronounces it almost right because the G sounds like an English H). I've taught lots of people to put their tongue between their teeth to make the TH sound. The senora I lived with in Spain for a semester in college had so much trouble, she finally gave up and said, "I'm just going to call you Estelle"! So the fact that the lay leaders who did the sign got 1 out of 2 H's is pretty good in my opinion! (And they did apologize for the missing H.)

Why Intersections?

Intersections was the name of my monthly newsletter I sent from October 2004 through July 2007 while preparing to leave, serving in Nicaragua, and continuing to work back in the U.S. with the same mission agency, Food for the Hungry. I chose the name from Proverbs 1:21, which was the basis for a former pastor's final sermon at my home church. It is your intersections with yourself, with others, with creation, and with God that shape your life. It is in your intersections with others that you show Jesus to them and that you meet God.