Showing posts with label YAV. Show all posts
Showing posts with label YAV. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

To Miss New Orleans

Hey friends.

So far this month, I've been making it a practice to journal daily about something for which I'm thankful.  (Super original activity for the month of November, right?) My list so far includes mostly people (and coffee), but I am also thankful for New Orleans.

Last year wasn't exactly the easiest year of my life. I've neglected to address some of the tougher parts here, if for nothing else than I am most comfortable being an outwardly optimistic person. (And hey, if I can't control much else in life, at least I can control what goes on my blog!) But despite the rough patches, I wouldn't trade my year in New Orleans (or my year in Nashville) for anything. And anyway, sometimes challenges are good (despite how much I might doubt that when they're happening).

It's been a big few days of processing. I don't know that I realized how much processing I had (or have) left to do...but I s'pose this is that gradual transition process they kept telling us about at Ghost Ranch. Last week I put one of my coats for the first time this season, and wouldn't you know it, in the pocket I found a plastic straw I'd caught at a Mardi Gras parade last year. This past weekend I helped paint a house with a few fellow CTS students, one of whom was a YAV last year here in Atlanta. Living in an apartment by myself, I've had more time to spend just with my thoughts. Any of these things and a host of others could've spurred the turning of my mental wheels, I suppose. But this is a good thing. In a kind of unexpected wave, I am making peace with the difficult parts of last year, and wholeheartedly embracing my fond memories of the good ones. I'm not so bold as to claim that I'm all of a sudden at the end of the transition line graph (yes, there is one). But it's progress.

My friend Lauren, who was my roommate and fellow YAV in New Orleans and is an absolutely lovely human being, also happens to be an exceptionally talented artist. She drew this picture and called it "To Miss New Orleans."

Click here to see more of Lauren's kick awesome art.
(You can even buy prints, phone cases and other goodies!)

So thank you, New Orleans, for helping me figure out who I am and who I am becoming (or maybe at least giving me the space freedom to figure it out for myself).

In New Orleans, you can be whoever the heck you want to be. You can wear ridiculous homemade tutus on Halloween and joyously jump in to the impromptu dance party that starts in the middle of the street (you know, hypothetically). You can walk through the Quarter dressed head-to-toe like a pirate on a random day in December (Not guilty. But I am most definitely a witness). You can see a musical about zombies produced in an old abandoned church (yes, it was as awesome as it sounds). You can be as creative, as out-there, as weird as your heart desires, and New Orleans? She'll put a daiquiri in your hand, some beads around your neck, and welcome you home with an enthusiastic "Who dat?!" (If you're not into daiquiris I'm sure she'd substitute a good cafe au lait.) New Orleans is still broken in a lot of ways, but she is also beautiful and full to the brim with characters of every sort, and the stories that go along with them. If you haven't met her yet, you should.

Love,
Allison.

PS - It also happens to be the YAV program's "Social Media Blitz Week," during which we harass (I mean uh...encourage) our friends (and acquaintances, and pretty much anyone who will listen) to check out the YAV life. And because I'm such a huge fan of this program, here's a slightly obligatory plug for it (admittedly copied and pasted, if that wasn't obvious...). Seriously though. If you're looking for a year that will change your life, check it out.

Do you want to spend a year putting your faith in action and serving in mission? Are you interested in a career in non-profit work, humanitarian aid, or church service? Then apply to be a Young Adult Volunteer! The Presbyterian YAV program is accepting applications now –www.pcusa.org/yav

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Grains of Sand

Hey there, friends, and long time no talk!

My apologies for the blogging absence. I know you've just been on the edges of your seats, dying to know when I'd post something new. (...Right?) As it turns out, they like to keep you kind of busy at seminary. I'm hoping at some point to share, here, some of the (what I think is) cool stuff I've been learning and thinking about here at CTS. But for now, here are some continued thoughts on life after YAV.

As part of YAV orientation each year, new volunteers are invited to get their craft on and create a bookmark. (Or, rather, decorate a pre-cut piece of card stock destined for a protective plastic sleeve. Shiny tassel included.) Markers and stickers abound as each person leaves a bit of his or her identity on a little paper rectangle. Later in the week these bookmarks are piled in a basket, and during a worship service each participant is again invited to take part, this time by picking up someone else's bookmark from the basket. Essentially, we took our new bookmarks with us as we scattered across the world, agreeing to pray for and think about the brother or sister whose bookmark we held.

In theory, our bookmarks' journeys are completed when they are returned to their creator at Transition Retreat in New Mexico. Logistically, this doesn't always happen. Bookmarks get left at placement sites (guilty) and lost amongst luggage, or people aren't able to miss work or school to travel to Ghost Ranch. Life happens.

But when I went to New Mexico back in September, I got my bookmark back. And stuck in the little plastic sleeve, along with the flower stickers and Mumford & Sons lyrics I left there more than a year ago, are grains of Guatemalan sand. I might not have even noticed them if the lovely keeper of my bookmark hadn't pointed them out on our way back to the airport (thanks, Kristi!). But sure enough, they're there.




You know how when you go to the beach the sand gets everywhere? You shower and do the laundry, but there's inevitably still a grain or two or ten in your hair, or in your pocket. A few weeks later you get out the bag you used and unexpectedly it dumps leftover sand all over your floor. A water bottle rolls under your passenger seat months after your beach trip and as you retrieve it you feel the grit of a few long forgotten grains of sand in your hand.

I think that's a little bit how my experience as a YAVA will be. It's been about five months now since I lived in New Orleans, and a good 16 or so since I lived in Nashville. In some ways it seems like I was in both of those places yesterday, and in others it seems like it's been about 8,000 years.

Just when I think I'm on to the next thing--when I'm sure I've dealt with those two years' challenges and embraced their happy memories--I find more sand in my proverbial backpack. A friend who still lives in New Orleans will post a picture of one of my favorite places or things, and I'll realize how much I miss it. Hurricane Isaac hit in August and I was glued to my computer's weather page. I catch a glimpse of the Bluebird on a commercial for that new show Nashville, and I realize how much I want to go back and visit. I think about my experiences in both of those places and realize to what an incredible degree they have shaped me and the path towards some sort of ministry that I am now pursuing. Do I know exactly what that journey will end up looking like? Of course not. But I know that the past two years are a huge part of the reason I'm here, I know that a handful of YAV(A)s are one of my biggest support systems, and I know that I'll probably be finding assorted grains of sand in my bookmarks and backpacks for a long. time. And you know what? I'm okay with that.

Love,
Allison.


Monday, September 24, 2012

More Dirt Between My Toes

Hey friends,

While my actual time as a YAV in New Orleans ended almost three months ago, just this past weekend I attended a transition retreat that more officially brought my YAV experience to a close. First, go ahead and click here to read what I wrote about reentry last year. (This is partly to save myself from typing similar words again, and partly because I think my words last year are still fitting. It will also make sense of this post's title.)

This past weekend was filled with wonderful reunions, challenging conversations, and some time just staring at the stars. I continue to be so grateful for my time as a Young Adult Volunteer, and I am positive that the things I have witnessed, experienced, and learned in the past two years will continue to shape the person I am and the person I am becoming. My two reentry experiences at Ghost Ranch were just about as different as my two years, I think, but both were meaningful experiences and we YAV(A) are lucky to be part of a program that provides them for us.

Those are about all the words I can collect at this point, so I'll leave you with a prayer of sorts that was amongst the worksheets and materials we were given during the retreat. After that are a few pictures from a hike some of us took during our free time, for those of you who have yet to witness the beauty of Ghost Ranch.

Love,
Allison.

A Non-Traditional Blessing
Sister Ruth Fox

May God bless us with discontent with easy answers, half truths, superifical relationships, so that we will live from deep within our hearts,

May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, abuse and exploitation of people, so that we shall work for justice, equality, and peace,

May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war, so that we shall reach out our hands to comfort them and to change their pain to joy,

May God bless us with the foolishness to think we can make a difference in this world, so that we shall do the things which others tell us cannot be done.

If we have the courage to accept these blessings, then God will also bless us with

          happiness -- because we shall know that we have made life better for others
          inner peace -- because we shall have worked to secure an outer peace for others
          laughter -- because our hearts will be light
          faithful friends -- because they will recognize our worth as people


These blessings are ours -- not for the asking, but for the giving -- from One who wants to be our companion, our God, who lives and reigns, forever and ever,

Amen.

The small group of buildings towards the right is Ghost Ranch.


Chimney Rock




Thursday, June 7, 2012

Grab Some Popcorn...

Hey friends,

I don't think I've shared this yet, so if you're an audio-visual learner, here's a video look into the minds of New Orleans YAVs. For those of you who don't know, the dog in the video is Thomas, who belongs to Kathy, our site coordinator and video-editor extraordinaire. It's about ten minutes long, and offers insight from the YAVs I live with here in New Orleans. Enjoy!

Love,
Allison.


Monday, April 30, 2012

With Love from S. Derbigny Street

Hey friends!

Recently my community put together a newsletter with reflections from our years so far. In case you've missed it, our house includes nine roommates, both YAV and AmeriCorps. We work in after school programs, rebuilding organizations, a hospital chaplains department, a community garden, port ministries and more. You can find my reflection below, but if you've got a few minutes I'd highly suggest you see what my roommates have to say too. It's still just a small glimpse into the ways in which God is at work in New Orleans, but it's at least a bigger picture than what you've gotten here so far! The link below will take you to the newsletter. Enjoy!


As for my contribution to the reflections, part of it was taken from a post I wrote back in October, so it may sound a little familiar. There's some new stuff too, though, so in case you're interested:

It’s quite hard to believe that I have been in New Orleans for more than seven months. Since I moved here in August, I’ve met countless people who have left their mark on my heart. One of those people is Ronald. Two housemates and I met Ronald back in October, in the midst of soaking up music (and humidity) at the Blues and BBQ Festival.
Ronald, who was being pushed in a wheelchair, approached us that evening and proceeded to tell us that he does improv poetry, and he wanted to share one with us. Off he went, rhythmically rhyming in an on-the-spot poem he told us was called "Three Queens." It was all about these three princesses who just wanted to take off their crowns for a day and enjoy regular life. About how the king and queen were worried for the princesses, but the princesses just needed to get away from the castle for a while and see what life was all about. They were going to be just fine. After he was done, Ronald told us he just wanted to say that he could see the light and the love in our faces, and that he just wanted to remind us that we're beautiful.
Ronald literally left us speechless. Often I've retrospectively seen God's presence in a certain situation, but friends in that moment I felt like I was staring God right in the face. It seemed so unbelievable to me that a random man in the park could get so much right about us. About me. Many of us embark on these year-long adventures outside of our proverbial castles, often to places far away both geographically and culturally. Sure, folks back home might be worried: What is she doing with her life? When's he going back to school? Are they safe there? But we sneak out anyway, just to see what it's like. And we'll be alright. That is not by any means to say that our adventures will be free of struggle and hardship, but we’ll make it. 
During a recent community meeting, my housemates and I were posed the question: “How is it with your soul?” Oh, no big deal, right? Just describe the well-being of your soul. But I quickly realized that the reason that question intimidated me so much was simply the abundance of answers I could provide for it. 
My soul is grateful, for the city of New Orleans and my community here. My soul is inspired, by the Young Adult Volunteer program and the work that it is doing. My soul is weary, because this year has tested my confidence in many ways. My soul is hurting, for people who are without homes or adequate food, and for those who encounter violence on a daily basis. 
And my soul is renewed. While challenges are still ever present, I am so incredibly grateful for the experiences I have had through the YAV program. I have learned so many things about myself during these two years, and it’s very intimidating to think that this major chapter of my life will be over in a few short months. 

Perhaps my community and the YAV program have become another of the castles of which Ronald spoke, and it’s just time for me to go explore the rest of the world.  So with a grateful, inspired, weary, hurting, and renewed soul, I will continue my journey from castle to castle, in constant wonder of who I will meet and what I will learn along the way.


Love,
Allison.

P.S. - In case you're curious, our street name is pronounced DER-bin-ee. (That's probably not technically the way to write that pronunciation. But hopefully you get the idea.)

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

A Beautiful Day In the Neighborhood

Hey friends!

As part of living in intentional community, my roommates and I (and our fearless leader, Kathy) gather one Saturday a month for a service project somewhere in the city. In December we planted trees and learned a little more about wetlands restoration. For our January day together, which was this past Saturday, we helped clear a vacant lot in the 7th Ward. 

First, just a few words on why lots need to be cleared in the first place. In the months and years after Katrina and the following evactuation of New Orleans, many people have returned and were able to piece back together their lives. Others, however, were forced for  one reason or another to abandon their homes here. After a while, the city and other organizations began to tear down houses that had been deteriorating and empty since the storm, leaving vacant pieces of property which quickly filled up with weeds, litter and other debris. While these vacant lots may be better in theory than a deterioriating house, they're still rather unsightly and aren't safe places for the kids in the neighborhood. So projects like the one we participated in don't only aesthetically benefit the area, they make it a safer place to be. Win-win! Often, as we learned, neighbors will offer to maintain a vacant lot (mowing it, etc), but don't have the resources or manpower (personpower?) to get it to a place where it's mowable.

For our work on Saturday morning, the seven of us (housemates minus two, plus Kathy) split up a little. I worked on a lot with my fellow North Carolinian Eric, Bueana, Laura, and Kathy. Armed with gloves and a combination of rakes, clippers, and a couple weedwackers, we plowed right into the brush. Our general strategy tended to be: 1. Pick up all the litter you can see, whilst brushing away the spiky caterpillars that are all over the place (Seriously. They were everywhere.). 2. Clip and/or weed wack bigger vegetation. 3. Rake debris. 4. Put aforementioned trash and plants into bags for the truck to pick up. 5. Rinse and repeat.

The manual labor was a change of pace for almost everybody (sorry Eric), and it was strangely therapeutic. Granted, we were still in the city, but it was a nice change of pace to get outside and do something physical that is visibly making a difference. Plus, you can find all sorts of stuff in a lot that's been vacant and untended for at least a year. Treasures we found included: a mattress, a disintigrating metal grill, some scary movie DVD, a door, and (drumroll please) a pile of dead fish!

Even more satisfying than the physical, visual difference we made was the spirit of the neighbors we saw. The man who lived across the street from the lot walked right up to us and told us if we needed anything, anything at all, to not even think about worrying him and just ask. The owner of the lot dropped off a bucket of bottled water and sports drinks. Folks driving by would slow down, wave, and honk their horns in appreciation. Not, of course, that we did it to be thanked, but it's always encouraging when your efforts are so openly affirmed.

So all in all, it was a lovely day. Here are a couple pictures of our project, followed by a link to more photographic evidence.

Eric, Bueana, Laura, and me at the beginning of the day...


...and after! (Note the expertly cleared lot in the background.)

For more pictures from our day of service, click here. (Also feel free to like the PSL YAV page on Facebook. Because, you know, we're pretty great. Quite humble, too.)

Hopefully a Mardi Gras post coming soon!
Love,
Allison

Monday, January 9, 2012

Home for the Holidays

Hello dear friends, and merry New Year!

With the advent of this newest year in our lives, social networks and real-life conversations alike have been overflowing with memories of 2011 and hopes for 2012. And here in New Orleans, the store aisles dedicated to Christmas decorations and supplies have quickly been replaced with the purple, green, and gold of Mardi Gras. Before we get into that, though, here are a few words on the end of my 2011...

If you've read my last couple posts, you know some crazy stuff has been going on in these parts. I found myself hoping rather desperately that I could find some warm fuzzy feelings about New Orleans before she and I parted ways for Christmas. I lucked out and found those warm fuzzies in the form of caroling in Jackson Square. Hosted by a group called the Patio Planters, the event has been goin' down every Sunday-before-Christmas since 1946. Each year thousands of people (natives, transplants, and tourists alike) gather in the square just outside of St. Louis' Cathedral, reading from songbooks by candlelight, singing everything from "Good King Wenceslas" to "Feliz Navidad" with a little "Rudolph" sprinkled in. Apparently, this year, 8,000+ carolers kept us company. Local leaders both religious and secular introduced the carols and special guests. In true NOLA fashion, the Archbishop worked the crowd before his opening prayer with a: "So how 'bout those Saints? Are we going to the Super Bowl or what?!" To which the crowd replied with an assortment of cheers including the ever popular "WHO DAT!" The spirit of this town just doesn't get old. Jillian, Lauren, Ashley and I had smiles plastered across our faces the entire time (except for when I spilled hot wax on my hand...), and it was even "cold" enough for us to wear scarves! And, of course, we just had to fight the post-caroling crowds at Cafe du Monde for a few beignets and some cafe au lait. It would've been a great evening under any circumstances, but I was especially grateful to have this experience just a few days before I headed up to North Carolina. For your viewing pleasure, here are a few pictures of the occasion (none of which I actually took)...


Caroling by candlelight in Jackson Square. (That's Lauren, Jillian and Ashley.)


Excited about our songbooks. Can you say free souvenir?!


Lauren's sister Lindsay was in town to experience the NOLA holiday magic.

Just a few days after our caroling adventures, I was off to Davidson for Christmas with the family. Holidays have turned out to be an interesting thing in YAV land. Sometimes going home is a welcomed break from a stressful placement, and a chance to reconnect with friends, family, and the local coffee shop. But there is also the fact that I am not the same person I was a year and a half a half ago. Of course, the Allison that graduated from Furman also wasn't the exact same one that graduated from high school four years before that, but this seems to be a little different. It's also one of those things that I don't think I can fully put into words, but it has also been a very real part of my YAV experience. And I couldn't help but think about the rest of the YAV community, many of whom were either struggling with returning home a changed person or were struggling with not being able to return home for the holidays. Maybe it was the Christmas warm fuzzies, but again I just found myself thinking of how much I love this little YAV family, and how thankful I am that it's a part of my life.

After a quick six days in the homeland, it was back to New Orleans in time for New Years Eve. Given the fact that I managed to pick up an awesome cold on my way out of Davidson, Ashley and I just went out for a delicious Mediterranean dinner, and headed back to the house, snacks in hand, to watch the ball drop on TV. Highlights of the evening: the woman working in the vintage clothing store complimented my dress when Ashley and I were doing some pre-dinner window shopping, and a little seven or eight year old girl complimented my sparkly shoes. Score. My other favorite part of the evening was right after midnight, as I stood on our balcony watching fireworks in almost every direction. Just past the buildings and scattered trees you could see the the big display over the Quarter, and in almost any other way you looked, you could see the occasional colorful explosions that people were setting of on their own. Despite the fact that I'm not sure exactly how safe it is to set off fireworks in the middle of narrow streets that are lined with mostly-made-of-wood houses, I couldn't help but feel happy standing there breathing in the cool air of a brand new year. And however much of a love/hate relationship I seem to have with this city, I think it's also a place that I'm proud to call one of my homes.

Just six days after New Years, the next holiday season rolled around. Happy Carnival, friends! Be on the look out soon for a post about our Twelfth Night reveling and the first parade of the season. 43 days until Mardi Gras...

Love,
Allison.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

America the Beautiful

Hey friends,

A couple weeks ago my roommates and I ventured to Austin, TX for a retreat with the San Antonio YAVs and some AmeriCorps folks who are currently serving in Austin. Most of the weekend was just time to relax, enjoy each other's company, and explore the city. We played tourist and paid visits to the capitol building, the first Whole Foods (which is huge, by the way), and the beautiful Mount Bonnell. My favorite part of the weekend, however, was our time at the Austin Powwow, which is an annual celebration of culture and heritage that brings together different Native American nations for dancing, drumming, and the chance to honor and remember loved ones.

I'm generally a fan of new experiences, but this one was particularly wonderful. As dancers in elaborate outfits paraded their way into the room, I was legitimately overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. There was a palpable sense of pride surrounding the tradition and art of the dances, and the colors and details of the clothing were nothing less than exquisite.

I couldn't help but think, as I was taking all of this in, that this amazing group of people is a huge part of our country's history, and it is so often overlooked. I'll be the first to say I know very little about Native American culture, but just this small experience has made me want to know more. I wonder what would change if this was the kind of American culture that we embraced instead of focusing on Starbucks, the latest designer clothes, and failed celebrity marriages. I get as much entertainment as the next girl out of the occasional celebrity gossip magazine, and there's nothing wrong with wanting to look nice. But here's my suggestion, friends. Take a look around and see where the real beauty is in your life, whether it's something especially "American" or not. Whether it's your heritage, a particular relationship, a flowering tree on your street, a quiet walk in a peaceful place or the smile of a random stranger on the street.

What takes your breath away?

There is so much real beauty in the people and places that are right around us, if only we'd stop every now and then to look for it.

Love,
Allison.


A glimpse of the powwow, courtesy of Jillian's account of our adventure.


Thursday, October 6, 2011

Nuts & Bolts

Hey friends,

I s'pose it's about time I told you all what actually goes on here in New Orleans, yeah?  Feel free to skim and/or skip this, but for those of you who are interested, here it goes...

The house.
There are six of us YAVs this year, but nine people in our house, which is owned by the Episcopal church next door. (Just a little different from three people in a Toolshed last year...) Two floors, seven bedrooms (two are empty, and all but one are shared), three bathrooms, red doors and a wonderful balcony just perfect for hammocking. We only have one stove and oven, which gets complicated with nine of us, but there are two refrigerators and two microwaves in two separate kitchen areas, so we're makin' it! The house has had several past lives: church office, duplex, rental house...

The roommates.
As I mentioned up there at the beginning, there are nine of us. Lauren, Eric, Ashley, Jillian, Emma and I are the YAVs, and we're joined by Tyrone, Bueana, and Laura who work with various programs in the city. The New Orleans YAVs are organized, as a site, through the Presbytery of South Louisiana. Links to my roomies' blogs (that I know about) are attached to their names, if you're interested. We hail from seven different states, and do all sorts of things in the city: saving the wetlands, hanging out with kids, managing volunteers that come  to help rebuild, visiting hospital patients, and even getting to know some of the many seafarers that come to port in New Orleans. You'll just have to stalk those blogs to learn more. :)

The job. 
This is old information for some of you, but I spend my days here in New Orleans working in the pastoral care department of a big hospital system. The system has approximately a billion different campuses (hospitals, clinics, you name it), but mainly I spend my time at the main campus visiting new patients and introducting them to the department. Patients move in and out pretty quickly, so there are always plenty of people to be visited. There are also a handful of other chaplains at the main campus, including some staff chaplains and some resident chaplains. Also, two mornings a week, I work at the hospital campus that's right across the street from our house, helping organize a new pastoral care library. Those are the basics, but surely I'll have more to say as the year goes on.

The city.
I'm not even going to try and fit New Orleans into a paragraph. Another post is coming soon about the Big Easy, but to tide you over (because I know you're all on the edge of your seats): Just having been here a month I can feel New Orleans working its way into my heart. She is a city full of character. Full of life, death, heartbreak, recovery, inspiration and so much more. Not to mention the seafood, inevitable U-turns (excuse me...Louisiana Lefts), and flexible definitions of "on time."

And that's it for now, friends. Apparently we have functioning internet in our house now, so I may just get around to posting some of the half-written blogs that have been staring at me for weeks!

Love,
Allison

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

The Dirt Between My Toes

Hey friends,
This past weekend I traveled to New Mexico for a retreat with last year’s YAVs. Re-entry, as we call it, was a chance to reconnect with the first batch of my YAV friends, and to share stories and experiences from our years of service. Not to mention Ghost Ranch itself is a stunning place to be. 
The long weekend started on Thursday morning, as I hopped on a plane with a handful of other YAVs (or YAVAs now, I s’pose?) who currently reside in New Orleans. The anticipation grew as more friends joined us on the flight from Dallas to Albuquerque, and next thing you know 50 or so YAVs were all piled on a bus to Ghost Ranch. 
Re-entry is built largely to help YAVs process their newly-finished years, through small group discussions, group sessions, worship and plenty of fellowship. The general format of the retreat is relatively similar to orientation at Stony Point, but I was struck by the physical differences between the two places and how they reminded me of the ragtag little family that is a group of YAVs just returning from a year of service.
The open spaces at Stony Point are blanketed with green grass and surrounded by shady trees that invite pleasant afternoons of get-to-know-you conversations (on the off chance that you have some free time). In August it might get a little hot during the day, but for the most part the weather is pleasant enough...unless you happen to run into a hurricane.
The red rocks of Ghost Ranch are for the most part stripped of vegetation, bare except for a few spiky cacti and a good bit of prickly desert grass. The mid-day sun can be harsh, and in September there is a (relative) cold that sets in at night. But if you take a little hike to the top of a mesa or step outside at night and look upwards, the view will take your breath away. 
In the past twelve months all of us have been challenged, in ways too different to describe here. Through our experiences over the last year and through our conversations this past weekend, we have shed the green layers of presumption and expectation and bared at least part of our red rock souls to one another. Some are weary and broken, while others are as motivated and confident as ever. Either way we have found solidarity in our shared wandering and understanding in our shared love for others. The hike out of the valley to the top of the mesa might be longer for some than others, and some will be more out of breath when they reach the end of the trail. But that view at the top is worth it. 
I would be lying if I said that I could put into words everything that changed in me last year. But I boarded the plane back to New Orleans with desert dust still coating my sandals (and probably still stuck between my toes), a messy reminder of a year that has most certainly changed me and that will forever be an important part of me. This next year in my journey will surely challenge and change me even more than the last, and I'll head off to Ghost Ranch again in a year only come back with even more dirt between my toes. 
My friend and fellow YAV Luke wrote the following poem at the end of our orientation more than a year ago and just shared it with us again. I'm not sure there are better words to describe what this quirky, inspiring, plaid-wearing family means to me. So read on, friends, and I'll talk to you soon.


Love,
Allison


This community will not be broken.
There is
too much love
too much compassion
too much hope
too much energy
too much contagious enthusiasm
too much life.
We are full of life.
This community is a living thing.
This community will not be broken.
We separate tonight
so many different directions
to many places
to endure many pains and sorrows.
We will struggle.
We will hurt.
We will cry out to God
and ask, "Why do you let this happen?"
But the community will not be broken.
We will lift each other up
in prayer and in action.
the kind word.
the loving gesture.
God has put us together,
a community that will stand in solidarity and partnership
with the poorest of the poor, the victims of
cultures
systems
societies,
prejudices
principalities
that would have us believe they aren't human. Not worthy.
We will ache.
We will feel a longing for God's love for all unlike anything
we've ever felt before.
We will cry.
We will yell. 

We will break down. 
Hit rock bottom.
But when we need someone 
that very moment
when we feel we're useless
powerless against forces so far
beyond our control
we'll stand as a community
we will not be broken.
and we will change the world. 



Monday, September 5, 2011

Something Bigger

Hey friends!

In my last post I shared some of my (mostly stressful) thoughts about orientation. Another thing I keep thinking about, though, is how incredibly thankful I am to be part of this little YAV world of ours. I remember hearing about how much it would mean at orientation the first time around, but I feel like I get it now. That's not to say that I didn't realize it was something big last year, or that all the new YAVs can't get it now. But several times during orientation last week I was almost brought to tears with thoughts of YAV friends new and old, the ones that I've known for more than a year now and the ones I've known for just a couple weeks. Despite the rough patches that inevitably accompany a year of service (or any year, for that matter), it is unbelievably comforting to know that you are part of something bigger, and that your friends scattered across the world are, in perhaps slightly different ways, going through similar things. And it lasts longer than just your year (or two) of being a YAV.

Tropical Storm Lee has been making it's way through New Orleans over the past few days, and several YAVs sent texts and messages to make sure we were alright. When my birthday happened during orientation, I found out that my fellow former Nashville YAVs had all signed a card and sent a present for me. When I was at Montreat this past summer, two other small group leaders were YAVAs. None of these are probably huge deals in their own rights, but put together they give me confidence that I am part of something pretty incredible. And as I head out on this journey towards seminary or wherever else I end up, I can rest assured that I will have cherished friends along the way.

One of my fellow New Orleans YAVs shared this quotation (from David Nicholls's novel One Day) with me...

"What are you going to do with your life?" In one way or another it seemed that people had been asking her this forever; teachers, her parents, friends at three in the morning, but the question had never seemed this pressing and still she was no nearer to an answer. "Live each day as if it's your last," that was the conventional advice, but really, who had the energy for that? What if it rained or you felt a bit glandy? It just wasn't practical. Better by far to be good and courageous and bold and to make a difference. Not change the world exactly, but the bit around you. Cherish your friends, stay true to your principles, live passionately and fully and well. Experience new things. Love and be loved, if you ever get the chance. 

So here we go, YAVs and YAVAs all over the place, trying to change the bits of world around us or at least make a little bit of a positive impact. (Because make no mistake, being a YAV changes the way you see the world even after your year is up...at least it did for me.) Probably I won't change the world in New Orleans, but if I can brighten somebody else's day or make the slightest bit of difference then that's good enough for me. If you count all the current and former YAVs and add up all those slightest bits of difference, it counts for a lot. We might not be revolutionizing policy or overturning entire systems of injustice, but all those bits can add up to something bigger. Something way bigger. Just in the US, here's where YAVAs are living now (and before you all think I'm creepy and found/typed in addresses, I found this map on the YAVA blog)...
Blue = one YAVA, yellow = 2-6, and pink = 6+
In the words of Needtobreathe, we're "just tryin' to make the world a little better, you know, shine a light." And we're not trying alone.

Love,
Allison

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

On Worrying and Failing

Hey again, friends!

As a lot of you know I've spent the last week at YAV orientation in Stony Point, New York...and it's been an interesting time (even besides the earthquake and the hurricane). I feel like I'm just now starting to process a lot of last year, and suddenly I've found myself thrown into an entirely different community surrounded by entirely different expectations. Orientation is largely full of potentially intimidating talks on globalization, culture shock and living in intentional community (including tales from YAVA facilitators), and it can be overwhelming even the second time around.

During our opening worship service last Monday, the YAVA (aka YAV alum) that was preaching asked a question. What if we are called to fail? That's not an easy question. But YAV years aren't perfect. And we all fail some time or another. Not always in huge catastrophic ways, but it happens. And what if those happenings are so essential that they become part of our calling? The YAVA continued by asking: what if we aren't supposed to be "successful" yet? Whatever successful means, what if we aren't supposed to get it right yet?

During one of our workshops on communication, we were asked to get in smaller groups and write down three things we worry about, each on a separate card. Things about our year, about life in general, about whatever.  After we wrote our worries down, we shared them with our groups. This was hands down the most difficult part of the week, for me. To write down things that truly, deeply worry me, and to say them out loud...that was hard. And by "hard" I mean my hand was physically trembling as I put the paper down on the ground. I've got to say that that surprised me a little. Sure I knew I had worries, but I s'pose I'm just pretty good at not thinking about them too much. As it turns out though, despite our apprehensions about the exercise, every single person in my little group had at least one worry in common, if not more.

It all got me thinking about how many of my worries are tied to last year, or at least affected by last year. I didn't have a whole lot of blatant outward struggles last year, but I think I'm starting to realize what a huge impact last year really did have on me. I think I'll continue to realize that over the course of this year and afterwards, especially as I head to our YAV re-entry retreat with last year's YAVs at the end of September (more about that when the time comes).

While it was truly a blessing to find solidarity with worrying friends, it's also been rather intimidating to realize just how unsure about this year I am. I'm sure that I'm supposed to be here. And I'm sure that I'll grow as close to some of these new friends as I have to those I met last year. But I'm not sure what working in a hospital chaplaincy department will be like, except that it will probably be one of the more challenging experiences of my life.

So probably I'll fail. Certainly I'll worry. It'll take a while to get to know New Orleans and to really get to know my fellow YAVs. It'll take a while to figure out how to work in a hospital. It'll take a while to figure out exactly what's next. YAV years (and life in general, I s'pose) aren't always full of rainbows and glitter and warm fuzzies. Sometimes it's hard, and I'm not sure I've talked a whole lot about that here.

All this isn't to say that I disliked my time at orientation, or that I'm not excited about this year. It was still a fantastic week full of new relationships and new ideas, and I still maintain that singing in a room full of YAVs is one of the most powerful forms of prayer I have ever experienced.

Even as we stumble through our lives worrying and failing, surely we'll pick up little tidbits of grace and assurance too. Learning from our failures hopefully we'll figure it out eventually. And maybe some of our worries will come true, but in those worries we are most certainly not alone, friends.

Love,
Allison

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Here We Go Again...

Hey friends!

I made it to New Orleans today, for YAV round two! All my stuff is in my new YAV home, but I'm in a hotel room with Mom right now, before I take her to the airport tomorrow morning. Luckily I'm blessed with a good mommy that is able and willing to drive with me. 729 miles, 13 hours, and 20 police/trooper car sightings later, we're here in Louisiana! And by the wonders of a smartphone we even got to enjoy a Spice-Girls-inspired channel on Pandora for part of the drive. (And by "enjoy" I mean I thoroughly enjoyed and Mom so kindly tolerated.)

Tomorrow most of the other YAVs arrive, and the day after we start our New Orleans orientation. Then on Monday we jet off to Stony Point for orientation with everybody else.

There's a playground pretty much in my backyard again, but the house itself is quite the change! So far seven people will be living there...two floors, a porch, a balcony, and Mardi Gras beads still stuck in the tree out front.

More on New Orleans and orientations to come!
Love,
Allison

Thursday, August 11, 2011

The House(s) That Built Me

Well friends, I'm home. In Davidson. My year as a Nashville YAV is officially and totally over. I don't think it's really sunk in yet...seems like when I leave in less than a week I should be heading back to Nashville instead of New Orleans. (But that having been said, I'm still super stoked about heading to the Big Easy.)
In other news, my last weekend in Nashville was filled with Furman friends, due to a wedding in town. It was sort of odd, Furman people in my YAV town. But it was also so so wonderful. Most of my friends at this wedding I've known for five years. Which is crazy, if you ask me, that it's already been five years since I started college. But anyway. Despite the fact that I only really got to spend a handful of hours with most of these folks, the day reminded me of how much I truly love them. And despite the fact that I haven't seen most of them since either homecoming in October, or since graduation more than a year ago, we could still sit around and talk just like when we were in Greenville. I'm not the best at regularly talking to people that aren't in the same place as me (oops), but maybe this weekend has made me a little more motivated. 
After the wedding, one of my Furman roomies helped me pack up my stuff and kept me company for the 7.5 hours from Nashville to Davidson. After some coffee and thrift store shopping the next morning, I drove her back to Greenville. I remember thinking, when I went to homecoming, that it was weird being in Greenville and not being a Furman student. It's still just as weird. But we got dinner in at my favorite Greenville restaurant, did some bowling, and had breakfast at another favorite eatery of mine. Then it was back to Davidson for me, where I've gotten to spend some time with high school friends, and I've even seen a couple camp folk. At some point I s'pose I should unpack and re-pack so I can leave on Tuesday. But that's besides the point.

The point is that all this hopping around and seeing all these different groups of friends is that I know some pretty stellar people. The friends I made in middle school, now we can go with our moms to trivia night at the wine room. The friends I made during those oh-so-important college years are still people I hold close to my heart, and the camp friends that gave me a faith community I didn't even know I needed will forever be a part of my life. Then here come the YAV friends, from Nashville and soon from New Orleans, that have transformed me even more. 

On my drive back from Greenville a Miranda Lambert song called "The House That Built Me" came on the playlist I was listening to (a year in Nashville'll do that to ya). If you haven't heard it: in it Miranda Lambert talks all about a childhood home and how she's trying to find herself again, there. I don't feel so much like I need to re-find myself in the five days I have left in Davidson (five days! AH!), but I do think that all of these places I've met my friends (and family) have a large part in who I am today. And whether or not I talk to all of those people on a regular basis, that fact will always be true. I really don't think all the rambling in the world could express how truly thankful I am for that. 

Thanks anyway, though, dear friends and family, for being the houses that built me. Let's stay friends, yeah?

Love,
Allison

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Obligatory End-of-Year Thoughts

Well friends, I'm officially not a Nashville YAV anymore. Mary Kate and Beth are both moved out so it's just me in the Shed, and depending on the day this week there are only two or three left in the Cabana. It's weird, to have a two-thirds-empty house. And it's weird that less than a week from now I'll be home, getting ready to move to New Orleans.

I don't really think it's sunk in yet. I mean, the fact that it's the end of the year, but also I don't think the majority of my year has sunk in. Of course I could tell you plenty of wonderful things about this year...that it helped me decide to go to seminary in a year, that it gave me priceless experience in campus ministry and that I've gained a handful of really wonderful friendships that I'm sure will be life long. Not to mention my knowledge of Nashville coffee shops. (For a few more, scroll down and read the reflections I shared at 2PC on YAV Sunday.) But my guess is that over time other really important things about this year will sink in. We'll just have to see how that unfolds. 

I've been thinking about (and talking about, to some fellow YAVs) how it seems like every time I make good, close friends, it's time to move somewhere else. Now I now that's mainly my doing, seeing as I keep making relatively short-term commitments, and I knew the end of this year was coming. But I think it really started sinking in, when I was sitting in the Shed alone yesterday. It's not like I'll never talk to my fellow Nashville YAVs (or former Nashville YAVs? Woah.) again. Of course I will. And I'm so so excited to go to YAV orientation again and make new YAV friends there and in New Orleans. But I guess it's still just something I've struggled with a lot this year. On a slightly similar note, though, there are a handful of other YAVs doing second years, so I'll know some people already when I get to Stony Point this time around! 

I hope this all didn't sound to whiney. I really am excited. Just starting to process that YAV round one really is over. And no doubt I'll have plenty to say about this year even after I get to New Orleans. But for now, on to the next adventure! 

Still a few more days left to enjoy Nashville, and this Saturday I'll get to see some of my very best friends at a Furman wedding right down the street! 

Love,
Allison

Sunday, July 17, 2011

It's already time to reflect on my YAV year?!

Today was YAV Sunday at 2PC, so in addition to putting together the liturgy and picking the music for the morning, Mary Kate and I shared some reflections during the sermon time. Below is what I said, more or less. Some of it's been written on this blog before, some of it's new. (If you've been reading this blog or talking to me with any regularity over the past year you can probably just skip the first paragraph.) All in all I think this morning went really well...and I really don't think I'm ready to leave in two weeks.

For those of you that like listening more than reading, you can hear our sermon here. To just read my half:

For those of you that are visiting, or who I may not have had the chance to meet, my name is Allison and I am one of the Young Adult Volunteers (or YAVs) that has spent the past 10.5 months living in what is lovingly known as “the Toolshed,” just on the other side of the playground. In addition to worshiping here at Second and getting to know the fantastic city that is Nashville, TN, I’ve spent my time this year working for the Presbyterian Student Fellowship at Vanderbilt and Belmont Universities. PSF, as it’s also known, strives to give students an opportunity to experience Christian community through weekly worship services, as well as through mission experiences and fellowship events. It’s been a whirlwind adventure of sorts, learning the in’s and out’s of campus ministry. Not having been involved in any religious groups during my time as a student at Furman University, I jumped rather blindly into a year of setting up projectors and tables of name tags, of going to movie nights, tie dying, hosting Room In the Inn, doing flood relief work here in Nashville and drinking countless cups of coffee. Throw into that mix a handful of other opportunities, like speaking at Presbytery, preaching at PSF, and attending a gathering of the synod’s campus ministers. All of those things and a host of others have been the puzzle pieces of my year as a YAV. 
One of those other pieces of the PSF puzzle was spending most Tuesdays serving lunch for Isaiah 58, which is a part of Belmont Church’s outreach to Nashville’s homeless population. I started going every week as a PSF missions event, in hopes that students would join me. Sometimes one or two actually would, other times it was just me, but either way it was always a great part of my day. One Tuesday back in the fall, I met a woman who was also volunteering. In the process of getting ready to serve the meal for the day, as we were pouring water and tea, she said: "You know, this is what we can do for others. We're pouring ourselves out, pouring God's love out." 
And there it was. All that meaning crammed into a few glasses of ice water and sweet tea. I couldn’t help but wonder, during the many times I’ve thought of that conversation since it happened, what it means exactly to pour oneself out. To pour God’s love out. 
I think it can often show up in subtle acts of kindness and caring, and in things that may not seem as blatantly faithful as Sunday school or a Bible study.
As part of our weekly worship at PSF this year, once each month we would replace the sermon with a different type of spiritual practice. One of the last spiritual practices of the year was Sabbath. On that particular Tuesday evening, we gave students the opportunity to do one of several activities, from walking in Centennial park to baking cookies, to watching an episode of Modern Family. After that week at PSF, several students expressed their thanks for the space and time in which to experience some Sabbath. Sabbath, is, I think, a spiritual practice that is often overlooked, especially in college as exam season looms just over the horizon. So perhaps things as simple as some chocolate chip cookie dough and a walk around the Parthenon can be an outpouring of God’s love.
The text from Romans for this morning talks about the members of creation in this period of anticipation. Waiting for freedom from bondage and waiting to be adopted into this family made up of the children of God. It says “and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, and the redemption of our bodies. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” 
“We, ourselves who have the first fruits of the Spirit.”
The fruits are already there, it’s just that, in the process of this adoption, we can figure out how to translate those inward fruits into our outward lives. I read in one interpretation of this scripture, that as we are adopted as children of God we gain an entirely new identity. And much like the peace of Christ that we shared earlier this morning, these new identities of ours are not easy, insignificant, or half-hearted. 
They also probably aren’t obvious. So patiently we wait, going about our lives trying to pour out examples of God’s love, in whatever form that happens to take. We can’t always see the results of our efforts, but we try anyway, we hope, and we wait. It’s not always easy but here we are, an assortment of the children of God, living in hopeful anticipation that this ever-changing new identity will form our lives and maybe the lives of others.
One interesting part about being a YAV in campus ministry, is that come mid-May,  a good 2.5 months before the end of our YAV year, the school year ends and the vast majority of our students leave for summer break. While I’ve managed to have several coffee and frozen yogurt appointments since the end of the school year, this summer I was given two weeks to do greater service the the church, one of which I spent as a small group leader at Montreat Conference Center’s high school youth conference. During youth conference high schoolers from all of the country converge at Montreat for a week of energizers, keynotes, worship, and small group discussions. For a total of three hours each day conferees meet in small groups to process the morning’s keynote, play some games, and further explore the day’s scriptures. Having never been to a youth conference before, I’d be lying if I said I was totally confident going into my first couple small group sessions. And for most of the week, the feedback I’d received about how our small group was going was pretty much limited to things like “that activity was pretty fun” or “really? another name game?” It seemed like things were going well though, and the conversations had been great. Each time we gathered--25 high schoolers, one adult chaperone and me--the conversations grew more meaningful, and I was amazed by the willingness of most of my group to share their personal thoughts and experiences. From youth who go to church every week by themselves because their families just aren’t into it, to children of church leaders who aren’t sure they even like going to church in the first place, there were all sorts of faith journeys represented. During our last meeting together, we ended our week by writing affirmations on a piece of paper for each member of our small group. After a group picture and some frisbee throwing, small group number 53 disbanded and went our separate ways, and it wasn’t until later that I got around to reading my piece of paper. But when I did, four simple words stopped me in my tracks. 
There I stood on the last day of week 2 of the Montreat Youth Conference, and in teal Crayola marker staring up at me from the page was the assurance that I had been looking for. Just four words.
“God pours through you.” 
To read that these youth--or at least one of them--had experienced God in our time together was truly a blessing. 
My brother asked me on the phone the other day to sum up my year in six words. I quickly told him that was impossible. Maybe with a substantial amount of thought I could do it, but I haven’t attempted to tackle that yet. I remember being at YAV orientation at the beginning of this year, reading the YAV slogan--A year of service for a lifetime of change. I didn’t really doubt the truth of that phrase, but I was eager to see the ways in which I would be changed this year. 
Here I faced the challenge of being farther away from my friends and family than ever before, but I gained self-assuredness and a handful of friendships that will, I hope, be life-long. I faced the challenge of a job that I was entirely unfamiliar with, but gained a year’s worth of priceless experience and relationships. I faced the challenge of brown recluse spiders, and gained the ability to be fine with all of those non-poisonous bugs that bothered me before. The list goes on, but in all seriousness I think it’s safe to say that those YAV tshirts and water bottles are right on--this one year of service has certainly changed my life.
Next year I will continue my journey as a YAV, this time working in a hospital chaplains department in New Orleans. Some challenges will stay the same, some will be added--being even further away from those friends and family, fundraising all over again, having a completely different job...in their differences though, I can only hope that these challenges will be equally rewarding. 
And I want you all to know, in case you haven’t been told or even if you have, that God pours through you. Through this congregation, through your welcoming Mary Kate and I into your community, and through all of the things that each of you does every day.  God pours through you.


The response and support we got after the service was really heartwarming, and made me even more thankful to have been a part of 2PC this year. It seems a little bit crazy that it's the end of the year already, and that two weeks from now I won't be a Nashville YAV anymore. Granted, I'm super excited about getting a totally new YAV experience in New Orleans, but I don't feel like I'm quite ready to give up Nashville yet. But here I go, jumping off the Nashville cliff into another unknown...we'll just see what happens! 


I read a Bible verse on camp's Facebook page (don't judge) yesterday that I feel like speaks to the YAV experience quite well. I'll leave you with that...


‎You are a letter from Christ written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.
2 Cor. 3:3
Love, 
Allison