C'est Pour Vous!

Today was the Fete Des Familles - a party for the families of prisoners - hosted by the Global Ministries mission partner here in Guadeloupe. My daughter Bethany has been serving here as a missionary  for two years and she came up with the idea for this party.  Many people worked very hard to make this day a success, to create a day of joy for these families who live with a lot of stress.  And it was a huge success!  Over 120 people came and enjoyed food, drinks, music, games, a bounce house and a clown.  So many people expressed profound appreciation for this event.  Some of them were even tearful.  The title for this post came from my favorite moment of the day.  A woman who had come to the prison to visit her son looked around at the festivities - balloons, food, games - and she timidly asked one of the volunteers, "What is happening here today?  Who is this for?"  The volunteer, Katy, smiled and threw her arms open wide. "C'est pour vous!" (It's for you!)

I'll post some of my favorite photos with descriptions.  However, to protect the privacy of the families, I wasn't able to take photos of all the smiles and all the beautiful faces we saw today.  The faces you see in the photos belong mainly to volunteers and their families. 

The day began at 8 am when the volunteers arrived to set up tents, the bounce house, the DJ table and the food and drinks table.  I was in charge of blowing up balloons so please take a moment to admire them.  Saturday is a busy day with many families coming to the prison to visit loved ones so we set up the event in the space behind the family visitor center.

Men a Lespwa is the organization that sponsored this event.  They are somehow connected with and not connected at all with the Reformed Church in France (The Global Ministries partner).  It's too complicated for me to figure out how they're separate so I'll just say this: except for Bethany's two friends, this event was staffed with volunteers from her local congregation.  Above is the schedule for the day.

The food! The drinks!  So good and so French!  There were pastries and quiches and a cake (with no frosting).  They also served candy and cookies and sausage (yep, sausage).  And olives. And pickles. And peanuts. And watermelon.  It was the strangest party assortment I've ever seen but people loved it.  The drinks were all donated by a local business so I got to try licorice-flavored pop.  It tastes exactly as you imagine.

In Guadeloupe, clowns are a serious business.  I mean, they make good money.  Better-than-ministry money.  So they're very good.  This clown performed inside the family center.  Notice the beautiful mural painted on the wall featuring scenes from historic Guadeloupe.  (I discovered today that a fear of clowns is apparently universal because one crying child refused to go in and watch the show.)

There were silly outdoor games like velcro tag and two games involving silly dancing.  In the first one, the partners had to dance with an orange between them (that's a mother-son team in the photo).  In the other game, teams danced on an open newspaper but each time the music stopped,  they had to fold the paper in half and have one less foot touching down.  The photo above shows how they got creative after two folds and losing two feet per team.  The last photo is just regular old dancing - you know, the Whip and Nae Nae and the other dances the young people are doing these days.

This is what the day was all about.  Families had an opportunity to write messages to their loved ones in prison.  Children drew pictures of themselves.  Grandmothers told their grandchildren that they are praying for them.  The messages were written to parents, grandparents, sisters, brothers, children and grandchildren.

We have families like these living all around us, too.  Their suffering is invisible but just as real.  How wonderful to spend a day telling them, "We see you.  We know your struggle.  Let us treat you to a special day."  It was a tough, sweaty day of ministry but the Church was here doing what the Church does best - loving people with the outrageous, abundant, inclusive love of Jesus.  So glad I got to be a part of it!

Life of a Modern Missionary

I left Kansas City a week ago.  I've now been in Guadeloupe about as long as I was last year when I came with my family for vacation.  But during this week on this beautiful tropical island I've only had one real beach experience - about an hour yesterday.  I have not been to one museum (not even the Rum Museum!) or the famous zoo or anything much worth even posting about on Trip Advisor.  In fact, I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but we've eaten fast food twice (I'm in France and I'm eating at McDonalds!) and our biggest outing has been to the theater to watch "Mother's Day" - in English with French subtitles.

The reason for our low-key week is that my daughter Beth is a missionary working as a prison chaplain and this has been one of the busiest weeks for her in two years of living here.  You see, several months ago she read an article about a group in the states that has a specific ministry to the families of prisoners. These spouses and children are the forgotten victims when someone commits a crime and goes to jail.  Beth got the idea for a party for the families of Guadeloupan prisoners, a special day just for them to show them love and support.  She asked her mission partner here, "Could we do that?"  People loved the idea and the Fete Des Familles was created.  Beth is in charge and she and other organizers have spent months lining up food, drinks, games, a DJ, a clown and a bounce house.  They've recruited volunteers, trained them, invited the families and have had many, many conversations with prison officials.  Tomorrow, it will all come together.  I'll post about it in the next few days.

But needless to say, Beth is busy this week.  Last night was a steering committee meeting and today is our mega shopping trip.

Tomorrow is the party and we will spend most of the day welcoming weary families to a special day just for them.  Even though the prisoners will not join their families for this event, it's still a ministry to them as well as they hear about the fun their children experienced.

That's why we have not done much sightseeing and have even succumbed to fast American food and cheesy American movies.  Being a missionary on weeks like this is hard work.  So is her ongoing work of leading worship and Bible studies and simply listening and praying with prisoners.

The modern Christian Church (universal) is frequently attacked for being irrelevant and even harmful.  Missionaries are maligned even more.  But if God is everywhere and cares for everyone (as I believe) then God is on this island and in the prison and in the homes of the families of the prisoners.  And God sometimes calls and sends people with the strength of heart to go to new places and learn new languages and work alongside the people who live in those places so that God's love will be known and God's name will be glorified.

Beth is the Church, loving people here in the name of Jesus and on behalf of the Church. We who support Global Ministries and other mission organizations, we are here, too.  Just thought you'd like to know that you'll be sharing love and joy with the children of prisoners on the island of Guadeloupe tomorrow morning. Vive l'eglise!

Iguanas

Apparently there was some kind of iguana convention happening yesterday in the backyard (or technically the frontyard of my bungalow).  I was really excited when I saw the first iguana sunning itself on a rock.  And then I saw another.  Two iguanas!  It must be some kind of record since I had only ever seen one in any location - and usually from a distance.  But here were two iguanas not more than 20 feet away.

Then I noticed a third!  And a fourth!  By the time I stopped counting, I must have seen more than 2 dozen of them.

(There's are 3 iguanas in this bottom photo.  Can you find them?)

When I told Beth about this, she said that she had never heard of someone seeing so many iguanas in one place.  We speculated that perhaps it had something to do with the weather.  But it reminded me a lot of watching squirrels in my own backyard - they were everywhere.

They were only out en force for an hour or so.  And the only reason I was able to witness this iguana convention is that I was enjoying a sabbatical day as opposed to a vacation day.

I have been to Guadeloupe on vacation before.  In January of 2015, Clif, Rob and I came to see Beth for a week.  She wanted to show us her beautiful island so each day we went sightseeing and touring beaches.  We wanted to do it all and we only had a week!  It was fun but exhausting.

This time I'm here for 25 days - and it's not to see the sights (although I'll do plenty of that).  I'm here to rest.  And Beth has a very busy week at work.  So yesterday she worked and left me at the bungalow.  I had books, a stocked mini fridge, WiFi - and this view.

Which is how I came to find myself among the iguanas.  I didn't have anywhere else to go or any way to get there if I did.  So I sat.  And watched.  For an hour.

I can feel places of tension in my body beginning to let go.  This is rest - even when awake and surrounded by iguanas.

Candy Jesus, Communion Dresses and Chocolate Saints

Today we went shopping.  It is overcast and likely to rain, so Beth took me to "the mall." The only familiar stores were McDonalds and the Apple Store, but it looked pretty much like every mall I've ever seen.

What was strange, however, was looking through the the window of the candy store and seeing a bin full of candy Baby Jesuses.  (Is that the plural of Jesus?)

I was both intrigued and repulsed at the thought of eating Jesus in candy form.  Is it appropriate?  Is it blasphemous?  And most importantly, what does a candy Baby Jesus taste like?  So I bought some.

I even wrote a Haiku about my theological ponderings:

Here Baby Jesus
Is eaten in candy form
Is it communion?

P.S. it turns out that a candy Baby Jesus tastes a lot like a circus peanut.

Then we walked by a store that had beautiful clothing for children in the window.  Even if you don't speak French, see if you can read the signs above the outfits.

These (very expensive) fashions are designed for a child's baptism, confirmation and first communion.  How remarkable to see this as a part of the predominantly Catholic culture here - in a high-end fashion store.

After the mall, we went to a health food store so I could get some kombucha.  In a store full of organic vegetables and gluten-free crackers, there was this:

Thanks to my Dutch step-father, Adrian, I  recognized St Nicholas immediately. But why was he in chocolate form? Yes, we have chocolate Santas but Nicholas was real person! A saint! And why was there only one? And why was he out in June? And why was he at the health food store?  So many questions.  Beth and I really wanted to buy him as a tribute to the wonderful St Nicholas traditions our family has celebrated.  But he would never have survived the trip home or even sitting on the counter in this heat.  So we sadly left him behind.

And I didn't even mention the English-speaking Mormon missionaries (women) at the mall who stopped us to talk after they heard us speaking English.  Beth, wisely, did not volunteer that she, too, was a missionary because that was a conversation for a place other than a mall.

All this is to say that I encountered signs of religion all around me while out shopping today.  But I felt God most strongly in the quiet moments of beauty and time spent with my daughter. While I'm sure that one can find God at the mall, I don't think it will be in candy form.

Guadeloupe

I need to start with an apology.  My last post was a complaint about how I would be living with my daughter in her un-air conditioned apartment.  But her friends from church have a beautiful home with a guest bungalow and they offered it to me when it is available - my first week here.  Not only does this cozy bungalow have air conditioning, but it also has this view.

There's no filter on that photo.

So here's my cozy cottage

(With my finger in the photo because apparently I don't know how my camera works.)

Yesterday we met some of Beth's friends on the little island you see in the first photo - Ilet de Gosier.  It's like a park, except there are no restrooms on the island  (there is, however, a little outdoor restaurant so make of that what you will.) It was fun to take a little boat ride out to the island and explore the lighthouse and see the "native" animals - guinea fowl, chickens and iguanas.  While on the island, I took a photo looking across the water to my little bungalow.  Can you see it?

So my first full day has been wonderful.  But just in case you're feeling really jealous of me and my glamorous lifestyle, let me tell you that the humidity is really doing a number on my hair and no amount of curl cream can control it.  You won't be seeing photos of me anytime soon because I'm frightening.  And, as I predicted, I'm sweating through every piece of clothing I own.  So while the views are gorgeous, I, most definitely, am not.

Complaining About the Caribbean

Could there be anything worse than a person who is about to go to the Caribbean for a month spending the night before her trip writing up a list of complaints?  No, there isn't.

Except...when I say I'm going to a beautiful Caribbean island for a month, I think it's important for you to understand that I am not staying at Sandals.  Or a hotel.  Or a place with a soft bed and air conditioning.  Or even running water (since a water strike started this week).  I'm staying with my daughter Bethany in her cozy little apartment.  Since she is a Global Ministries Intern, her housing is paid for, but there are no luxuries included.  We visited her last year so I know what to expect.  When we were there, I sweat through every outfit I brought, usually by 10 am.  So this time I just packed clothes that I expected to wear while sweaty.  I even got most of my hair cut off so that I wouldn't have to try to put it up or keep it off my neck.  And now that the water is turned off - and who knows when it will be turned on again - I can't even take a cold shower to cool off.  Wah. Wah. Wah.

Because in spite of all of this, her front wall opens up like a garage door and this is the view:

And then there's the beach just a few miles away:

Do you feel bad for me yet?

But all of that is waiting on the other side of a packing marathon (bringing Bibles for the prisoners Bethany works with and gifts for her friends).  And then I have two days of travel ahead of me because that's the itinerary American Airlines wanted to give me.

So yes, it will be great to swim in the ocean and sit under a palm tree, but mostly I'm just excited to spend this time with my daughter, watching her do her own ministry.  I'll be there in the official capacity of missionary mom, and that's a role I'm excited to play!

Remembering Who I Am

I'm a second-career pastor.  I spent several years as an elementary school teacher then I did some part-time work when my kids were little.  I started seminary at 37.  The first time someone called me "Pastor," I giggled.  I thought of myself as a lot of things, but pastor wasn't one of them.

Fast forward fifteen years and now "Pastor" is the only way I think of myself.  I'm a mom/pastor, wife/pastor, friend/pastor.  See the pattern?  When I started this blog, I wrote in the description that I'm taking this sabbatical to "remember who she is when she isn't a pastor."  Honestly, I didn't think much about that when I wrote it.  But I had a great chance to live it this past weekend.

In going back to Des Moines, my childhood home, for my family reunion, I had several unique opportunities to connect with people who had known me most of my life.  In addition to my extended family - who all knew me as Laura long before they thought of me as a pastor (if they think of me as a pastor?) - I was able to spend time with a former babysitter/family friend, another friend I've known since middle school, and some friends who were married just months before Clif and I were married (Clif and Mike were in each other's weddings).  These were people who knew where I grew up, knew my sister, went to the same schools I had gone to.  They had known my mom.  We talked about the places we used to hang out and we laughed at old memories.  Not once in all those conversations did I think of myself as anyone's pastor.

The biggest thrill for me, however, was getting to see some very good friends of my mom's.  These were women from her "Bridge Club."  I think the story goes that they never played bridge but they had monthly get-togethers and our families spent many holidays with each other.  Their kids were the kids I grew up with.  But since Mom's death in '94, I had not seen nor spoken to these women.  Once we sold Mom's house, I was done with Des Moines.  The memories of her illness and death, of selling off her possessions and losing our childhood home were all too painful.  So I lost contact with all the people who had been such a big part of my growing up years.

And then my sister moved back to the Des Moines area.  And her son made local news when he earned a perfect score on his ACT and SAT.  And one of Mom's friends recognized the name and sent Amy a letter and they started a correspondence.  And when my nephew had his graduation party on Sunday, four of Mom's Bridge Club ladies showed up.  I had no idea they were coming.  Amy had invited them but she didn't know for sure if any of them could make it.  There were tears and hugs and lots of laughs and memories and catching up with how everyone was doing.  It was as if time stood still and those ladies were sitting in our kitchen laughing with Mom again.

They say you can't go back.  It felt that way when we pulled out of the driveway of Mom's house for the last time.  But hearing the familiar voices and seeing the un-changed faces of some of Mom's closest friends, I remembered what it felt like to be Laura. Just Laura.  I had forgotten her, the child I used to be.  I think it takes time and space to remember who we are.  This sabbatical has already given me both.