Dear Annie

A letter I recently wrote to a lovely young woman in Honduras:

Hey Annie,

Thank for your update. I like hearing your news, and especially your openness. Sometimes I struggle to defer to decisions made by Rostro administration, and then remember that I took a vow of obedience and I listen. There´s a place for challenging injustice and ignorance, but at 24, my bigger challenge is being quiet and humble.

I hate that women here look like they do. You said it - ripped and stretched by childbirth and probably abusive husbands/boyfriend/fathers. They look old and broken at 30. Their iron frames look pathetically thin and weak, and somehow are carrying more weight - physical and emotional - than I know how to bear. Recently I read something by Max Lucado, something about not trying to tackle tomorrow´s problems yet because we don´t yet have tomorrow´s strength. Wait for it, the problems and the strength, and stop worrying. Good advice for us. For them? Are they getting the strength they need? Sure. God provides it. But why are they given days that rip their bodies to shreds without taking into account the needs of their minds, hearts, and spirits? I watch this and feel silly in how simple and insufficient my response is. It´s wrong, it´s unjust, it´s not right. It´s also not my job to fix it. So I sit here and feel blessed and grateful and responsible.

Did you ever go to Spirit of Sophia? A few years ago Sarah Miller shared some simple and painful insights about our learning. We all talk about our process of learning about life. From there we talk about our growing sense of responsibility, how we´ve been given so much education and love, how we´re so blessed, how we feel guilty about how God stacked the deck in our favor, how we´re obligated and excited to pay it forward. Luke 12:48 stuff. Sarah challenged us to stop promising a future of work and start now. We´re mortgaging our lives, she said, by waiting until we finish this paper, this class, our college experience, to start serving the way we´re called. I´m studying now so I can be better prepared for later. I´m taking it easy now so I can go hard and fast when I need to. Stop it. Stop making excuses and buying time. Step up, wherever and however.

So I got my degree from ND and moved into the world, and now I´m in Ecuador, where I came to serve and to practice some of that precious, lightning-hot love. I´m here and living. But I´m still looking forward. In college I said, ¨Just wait until I get to Ecuador. THEN I´ll be able to serve the poor the way God really wants me to.¨ Now I´m here in Ecuador, feeling helpless and somewhat purposeless, not knowing how or even whether to get involved in the ugliness of corrupt systems and neglecting families and abusive relationships. Now I´m saying, ¨Just wait until I get back to the US. THEN I´ll be able to use my gifts they way God intended. THEN I´ll be able to serve.¨

A few things are working on me here. The first is that I´m struggling to break out of the I´m-in-college, this-isn´t-the-real-world, just-wait mentality and trying to find the best ways to use the immense God-given, jointly-honed gifts. The other is that I absolutely underestimate myself and what I do in a day. I absolutely undervalue the power of loving someone quietly and with dedication and with God. I think too little of prayers, and casual greetings, and making my mind and feet still enough to look people in the eye. I forget that their mothers, kids, teachers may ignore them, and that getting someone´s attention is a rarity and a luxury for kids and parents alike. I´m not mortgaging anymore. I didn´t mean to stop - it just happened. But I have to give God credit for the muted, patient work He´s doing through me if I´m ever to believe that.

Sending you peace
and strength
and patience,
Cristina