Coming Soon! (Palermo Update)

Imagine this entire post in a dramatic-movie-trailer-narrator-voice

Recently, in Plaza Armenia...
Balloons. Keychains.Video with little arrows.
Selling waffles. Buying speakers. Talking with "the regulars"

Just kidding, don't imagine the rest of this post in the movie trailer voice. It's way too vague.

What's with the waffles, you may ask? With a broken iron, we made pancakes with waffle batter and sold them as waffles to raise money for a nice battery-charged speaker, which we'll be inaugurating next Sunday for a drama/puppet skit. Part of Plaza Armenia is shaped like an amphitheater and several itinerant groups take advantage of that fact to perform music, do magic tricks, and clown shows. We thought we'd use it to do a skit.

Several drafts, rehearsals and a cardboard boat later, we'll finally get this show* on the road...er, park.

Pray with us:
-that the Holy Spirit would speak powerfully to the hearts of our audience, young and old
-that many would listen, respond, and choose life with Jesus (the crux of...everything)

Thanks!






*Synopsis "El Crucero de Jesus" (Jesus' Cruise)
Three people- a bum, a boxer, and a snob try to get on a cruise ship advertised as "the adventure of a lifetime". All try (and fail), until a little girl comes up, asks to get on, and climbs aboard. The cruise, as it turns out, is life with Jesus, and the child shows the other characters how they can get aboard, too. Spoiler alert: a parody of "Let it Go" is involved.
Not my most nuanced work, but I am very thankful to my experience with "Circle Time" in Backyard for writing children's ministry skits!

Bureaucracy flow chart!

This, at any rate, is how I think the paperwork process in Argentina works, keeping in mind three important observations:

1. Bureaucracy= the inefficient working of people on dangerously low levels of coffee and happiness. 

2. The US is NOT part of MercoSur, which means that, while the process is longer, the lines are shorter, and you'll wait in them with Canadians and Germans, which is orderly and fun. 

3. The disconnected lines might be on purpose...

Would you still? (A letter to 8 year old Jill)

Hello, 8 year old self (I know you're in there somewhere, because a few months ago, you started writing a journal- consider this the most recent entry),

A lot of things can happen in 15 years, you know, and it makes me feel impossibly old. When you play dress-up or make up stories, the maximum age you envision yourself is 16- practically an adult. Trust me, by 16 you may have a driver's license, a summer job, and the beginnings of another language, but not much else in the adulthood department. By 23 you still haven't gotten married or your ears pierced, so you should be happy to know that.

You still like rainy days.

You never do end up running away from home. Home is a good place, and you'd only leave for the adventure of it. Writing from Argentina, the adventure hasn't left you, and neither has home.

You'll have braces for longer than they tell you, and you'll forget about your retainer after a month.

You'll never make another friend quite like Amanda, although every friend you make will remind you of her in some way, and you won't ever take them- or life- for granted. You still enjoy plenty of "alone time".

But enough of this hypothetical telling you past-future things. Because right now, I'm writing a children's ministry skit and I want to ask you a question:

Would you still? 

I think you know what I'm talking about. That evening in your Newport bedroom (the walls were still pink, and you probably had a stuffy nose, like I do now...some things never change) when you prayed and "asked Jesus into your heart". On the one hand, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into. But then again, does anyone really know?

If you knew that simple prayer would define the next 15 years (and, God willing, more) of your life, would you still have prayed it? If you knew it would take you to The Dalles and Tennessee and Argentina and the ends of the earth, would you still have said yes?

I suspect you knew about as much as an 8 year old could, and maybe even more than this 23 year old does. But still...if you knew the years that I've lived now-  every tear, trail, anxiety, decision, homesickness, move, grade, friendship- would you still have decided to follow Jesus?

They told you it was absolutely free, but did they tell you it will cost you absolutely everything? 

Just a curiosity ;) Look forward to hearing back from you,

Peace, Jill

The story of a mint plant

This is the story of a mint plant, and maybe of me as well.

I'd been given a small budget of seminary money to buy plants at the central market, where we do most of our bulk grocery shopping. With $200 pesos ($15 US ish), I was able to get a few flowers- including a very fragrant jasmine and a tea version of the double-delight roses like my dad has always grown- and some herbs. Rosemary. Oregano. Strawberry. And a very persistent lemon mint plant.

Lemon mint!

I say persistent because I know that mint is basically a weed, and since I'm not the most experienced gardener, I figured it would be smart to have at least one plant I could still show in a few months.

...Which is why I was pretty devastated when I found it up on the terraza, wilted and crispy at the same time. Nearly dead. I had transplanted most of the other plants into larger pots, but had been nonchalant about the mint plant. "It's mint, it's a weed; what could possibly go wrong?" And yet, after less than 3 days, my mint plant in its original container was not showing many signs of life.

And yet, shortly after sunset, I dug a hole in the giant pot for the mini pine, smooshed my fingers through the mint's roots, tucked the plant in gently and doused the whole thing with water. The leaves were still crumbly, and I figured that the giant pot would be my poor little mint plant's grave.

But something remarkable happened.

When I tiptoed downstairs in the middle of the night (bedroom upstairs, bathroom downstairs...), I took a peek at the mint plant. It was as full-leafed and vivacious as the mint I remember along the Deschutes. It was fully alive.

The mint plant had cooked under the sun, not because it was a poor plant, but because its pot was too small for its roots. In such a small space, in the only home it had ever known, it could not thrive anymore. And so the good Gardener (or, in my case, the mediocre gardener with a lower case...I think you know where I'm going here) found it a bigger pot. A place where it could expand, grow, and live.

...Not a mint plant. But fully alive =)

I think it was St. Iraneus that said that the glory of God is man fully alive. It is to God's glory that we continue to grow in His fullness and likeness, even and especially when that means an occasional transplant.

Because the Kingdom of God is not unlike my little mint plant.

(Which, by the way, is not so little anymore).

7 months- QUI TAL?

Today I celebrate my 7th-mes-versary (that's what you call such things, right?) here in Buenos Aires. In other words, I've been here a month longer than most study-abroad students, 6 months more than a Lee cross-cultural trip, 6 months and 2 weeks longer than the average "short term mission trip", and still 3 years less than an international university student and several decades less than a full-time missionary.

It's an interesting cross-road for sure. Depending on who I talk with, I get told that I've been here for a "quite a while" or "not long at all!" (the second response is more common with people who think I learned castellano here- my Spanish is more 7 years than 7th months in the making!). I have a foreign accent, although most can't quite place from where exactly (Germany? Paraguay?) and the seminarians have started teasing me about talking too porteña. I know the cheapest place to buy yerba but still haven't figured out the postal system. I can do full exegesis of an obscure text in my second language (and third, if we're going to count Koine Greek) but still can't keep my size 43 feet out of my mouth. Funny, eh?

There are moments when I feel like I just arrived and moments when I feel that I've always been here, and that the only reliable way to mark time is the growing water stain on my wall or the rising price of popcorn (which is the ultimate litmus test for the economy, although if you really want to know, the dollar has about doubled in value relative to the Argentine peso since I first arrived- qui tal?*). Either way, I can't imagine being anywhere else right now. After all, to misquote 'All the Places to Love', where else could tea and a class on the terraza make all the difference in the world?

Where indeed. When I embarked on this adventure 7 months ago, I mentioned that there were several things that I didn't know, and the unknown was frightening and daunting. Now I can see that the unknowns have been a blessing and an adventure.

Me, thinking about the things I didn't know I didn't know... 

       I didn't know how I was going to "survive" in my second language, but I also didn't know that one of my favorite activities would be our bilingual theology kitchen chats. Language, thank God, has been a source of fun and not frustration.



       I didn't know if I could live and teach with the same people, but I also didn't know that I could be the same person- and just as good of a teacher and student- in and out of the classroom. I didn't know how much they have become part of my heart.

     
I didn't know I'd watch so many of you get married from afar, that I'd go crazy over almost winning the World Cup, enjoy and conclude my first 'relationship', or learn that mayonnaise actually is pretty flavorful. I didn't know I'd come to know God's goodness and presence as I have.


...And, before I get too nostalgic, I'll leave it at that ;)



*'Quí tal?', or properly, '¿qué tal?' is an informal way of saying 'how's it going?' or 'how about that?' It also works as a filler when you don't have anything else to say. Huh- qui tal? 

Plaza Armenia!

I mentioned a few weeks ago that we've changed location for our Sundays/Saturdays in the park. The Bosque was great for meeting large crowds of people from out in Provincia (beyond city limits), many of whom we never saw again. We did some praying and thinking (thinking: it's underrated), and after vacations we started hauling a seminary car full of us to Plaza Armenia.

Armenia, in addition to being fabulously hipster, is more of a "locals park." Most families come from within walking distance, and we see the same faces most weekends...still working on the names...  And, because there are so many kids running around, we have found something better than free hugs:

FREE BALLOONS!

...Complete with our facebook name (Comunidad del Bosque- feel free to add us and watch Google translate have fun deciphering our posts) and the cryptic gospel arrows that give us the opportunity to start a conversation about what we believe. Pretty cool, huh? We give out balloons, invite kids to color a keychain, talk and listen to whoever comes up, share a message and tea, and then pray with our eyes open; praying with our eyes open is a new development, since some street kids were trying to take our backpack!

So, in addition to wisdom to how to best love the street kids while still keeping resources to share, how can you pray with us? Gotta love that evangelical rhetorical question, eh?

Praise God-
That we are able to come into longer-term contact with our neighbors.
That the balloons have been a good connecting point.
That we've had ridiculously good weather.

Keep asking for-
God's kingdom to be a reality here in our midst as it is in heaven
More people to come to really know Jesus
Us to be wise in how we use our time and resources, and fully dependent on the Holy Spirit to speak the right words at the right times
Funds for a speaker/mic set so we can do puppets/skits (the plaza is noisy!)*
Again, wisdom for working with the street kids. They break our hearts, frustrate us sometimes...and the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.

That's our new "home" in a nutshell! Thanks again for your prayers!







*The set we're looking at would run about $400-$500 (US). If you're interested in donating a luca (buck) or two to the cause, let me know. Can't hurt asking, right?

You're doing it wrong (a really bad rumor)

The summer wedding season is winding down to a close. Chances are, you have a bridesmaid's dress tucked into the back of your closet, or at least your trusty "nice clothes" that you wore at every weekend shindig are in need of some washing. If I were in the US, this would be me, too. What we do have in common is eyes glazed over from pinterest and facebook pictures, and ears ringing from that age-old question every well-meaning soul from 13 to 83 is bound to ask: so, what about you?

Sidenote: they're not talking about studies, careers, missions, friends or that one time the alley cat coughed up a hairball right outside your door. Nope, they're talking about relationships. This is code for 'do-you-have-a-boyfriend-and-if-so-when-are-you-getting-married-and-if-not...-I'm-not-sure-where-to-take-this-conversation'. Just thought I'd help you out, there. 

What about me, indeed. 

There's a funny and persuasive rumor going around my cohort of 20 and upward college graduated Christian single women; granted, it's a niche market, but I'm allowed to be partial. It's a rumor that swirls dark in the face of a white dress, that pales with envy and shame and then more shame for feeling envious. Here it is, out in the open: you're doing it wrong.

It's a horrible rumor, isn't it? Somehow, it seems the pumpkin coach left without us. We are too stubborn, too busy, too smart, too asymmetrical, too shy. Not short enough, not perfect enough, not compromising enough. Worst of all, the rumor whispers, we are not lovable enough. We're doing it wrong.

Friends, the rumor is a lie. There are people who "do everything wrong" and "do everything right" who get married. There are people "doing everything right" and "doing everything wrong" who stay single, break up, have boyfriends and grandchildren and children...definitely not in that order.

Here's the thing- something I was dearly reminded of a few weeks ago: if you are following Jesus, then you're doing it right.

If you're in the Middle East about to help Iraqi refugees settle in- you're doing it right.
If you're living at home and baking cookies in your sweats just because- you're doing it right.
If you're studying, traveling, doing laundry, dreaming, designing, praying- you're doing it right.
If you're salt and light- you're doing it right.

And if someday you are given someone whose name you can throw out when 'what about you?' gets asked, you're doing it right. And if you have to mumble something sassily spinster instead, you're doing it right, too.

So, wash your nice clothes and dance in your bridesmaid dress, eshet chayil. 'Like' the pictures of shared happiness. Enjoy where you are and what you're doing and who (and Whose) you are.

You're doing it right.