In the U.S., we live in a culture of perfection—perfect hair, perfect bodies, perfect grades, perfect families. We assume that everything should be easy (why else do we have e-cards, and instant idiot-proof soup?) But we´ve lost a lot of the joy of creation, and the joy that comes through suffering.
What is our purpose here on Earth? Contrary to popular belief, it is not self-gratification. It is to glorify and love God. God is merciful but are we taking that mercy for grantedf? Are we forgetting our role in salvation?
We often assume a “prosperity-gospel” mentality, and believe that if God really loved us we wouldn´t suffer. We look for Easter Sunday while ignoring Good Friday. But we forget that without Good Friday there is no Easter Sunday. Without suffering there is no joy. Love grows in suffering. We grow in suffering.
Jesus Himself said, “In this world You will have suffering—but take heart, for I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33) This Lent, and even now in the Easter season, we have seen much suffering here—people dying, grave injuries, hunger, danger—but we pray that these things push those who experience them closer to Christ.
Doña Paulita has suffered for years from horrible asthma—barely able to breathe and almost never leaving her bed—but whenever we asked her how she was...”Pues...aqui” (“Well, I´m still here”) she would say with a smile. She was always praying, and always had a smile on her face.
She entered the hospital a few weeks before Lent started. We knew from the beginnig this would be her last visit. She died at home with her family the Saturday before Holy Week. I have no doubt where Doña Paulita is—I pray that hers is one of the first faces I see in Heaven.
Suffering hurts, that´s true—it strips us of all our falseness and all the things that keep us from God. Like gold tested in fire, suffering makes us more whole—more who we really are and who God wants us to be. So who are we to reject the Cross? Who are we to try and skip Good Friday? May God give us the grace in this Easter season to embrace our cross and rejoice in the purification of Good Friday, in hope of Easter Sunday.
--Jenny Perone
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Alabado Sea Jesucristo (Praised be Jesus Christ)! Today is All Souls Day….a time for us to pray for those who have died that are important to us and also to reflect on our own death. Life is fragile and to be cared for with all that is within us. We are also entrusted with the great task of protecting and defending life and becoming the voice of those who don’t have the opportunity to speak on their own behalf or cry out for mercy in a world that so devalues the tiny, the elderly, the handicapped and those that we deem “useless” or non-productive. What a tragedy to live in a world that has reduced the value of life to utilitarianism and forgotten the most fundamental principles of what it means to be cherished.
We have the privilege daily here in Honduras to be taught once again in the unmasked, raw lives of the poor what it means to be vulnerable and human. I thank God for this grace because I realize how much it is a part of my own salvation and call to continual conversion.
The past few weeks have allowed us to experience this vulnerability at its core. Where life is not cherished death is quite near. We have worked for the past 3 years with a family that we would deem not just dysfunctional but completely deprived of normalcy. The two oldest girls (9 and 7 years old when we first met them) in this family of 4 girls participated in our little girls’ program when they were able always carrying their “babies,” their 2 younger sisters. They were malnourished, dirty, depressed and constantly sick and in crisis. Their dad was an alcoholic and abusive and the mom could not be a mother. She had her first child, Maria Luisa, when she was 13 years old escaping her own abusive situation and never knew anything but surviving. She constantly left the 4 girls alone in the house, sometimes for days at a time without food or instruction and forced Maria Luisa to grow up too quickly.
Maria became the mother. Begged for their food, washed and cleaned, found powdered milk for the babies and all along tried not to demonstrate to her smaller siblings how scared she always was. She is a tremendous little girl, completely generous, too responsible for her age, and very bright. In the midst of impossible circumstances she has managed to pass almost 4 years of school. One tragic night 6 months ago, the kids had been in the house for 3 days without a sign of either of their parents. The 7 month old baby Heydi had been sick for several days, and Maria had no idea what she should do to help her sister. She tried everything she knew to do and in spite of her heroic efforts “her baby” died. We were visited after returning from a Pan de Vida retreat several hours away by the police and 2 hysterical little girls. Their other baby sister was very ill also and had been taken to the hospital by the police and a neighbor. I will never forget the chilling words of Maria Luisa saying to us “Mi bebe se murio”….Es mi culpa mi bebe se murio.” (My baby died….It is my fault, my baby died). This is too much weight for anyone to carry, let alone a twelve year old little girl who grew up too fast and had no recourse to thwart this tragedy.
The two girls stayed in our small missionary home for the first 2 weeks of their separation from their parents and we were able to live as close as you can get to the devastation of lives that have not been raised protected, loved and nurtured. Maria Luisa struggled deeply during this time with thoughts of wanting to die to be with her baby sister and even some plans in ways that she could take her life. We tried with all of our prayer and love to be a small part of the beginnings of the healing process of these 2 little girls.
Their other baby sister was released from the hospital and given back to the mother. We knew in the back of our hearts that this was another tragedy waiting to happen but the courts also decided (under a system that has close to no infrastructure to protect kids) to return the other two girls also to their parents. The parents of course promised to live differently and to care for their remaining kids. The chaos continued and just 3 months later their father was killed and the little girls were back on our doorstep once again devastated and broken. We ask the question often, how much pain can a human being sustain without breaking and dying? With these little girls we have asked this question frequently.
It took just a few short weeks after the murder of the father for the mother to continue in the same pattern. She found a new “boyfriend”, began to leave the kids by themselves again and forced the girls to survive through begging and finding what they needed on the streets and with people who knew their situation and wanted to help in some way.
The girls are street smart. The know how to manipulate systems and people to eat or survive. They never had normalcy and are quite used to existing in the midst of the chaos. Despite this being true, they still feel loss and rejection very deeply. They have suffered so much from feeling like they have never been loved, held, protected and cherished.
It was time for us to make a decision. We knew that if the mom’s patterns continued as usual we would be burying another one of the girls soon. It is just the nature of life and death in an extremely poor urban environment. They would end up very quickly prostitutes or at least horribly used by men and eventually be the next generation of single mothers or addicted with no real hope for a different future. We decided to finally go to Child Protective Services and have them removed from their home and placed somewhere safer and more stable. This was a very difficult day with many tears and anger but at the end of the day we were able to see through prayer that it was God’s grace that these girls were finally out of the chaotic cycle of barely surviving.
We now have the girls in a Catholic orphanage where there are counselors, social workers, stable house parents, activities, formation and all kinds of opportunities to heal and to grow. It is a great gift to see God bring hope into an impossible situation and remind these girls continually of His love and divine plan. Please pray with us for them and also for the possibility of many more kids in crisis to have the opportunity to experience the love and healing of Christ and to be given back the capacity to dream and know they are set apart by God for great things.
We have the privilege daily here in Honduras to be taught once again in the unmasked, raw lives of the poor what it means to be vulnerable and human. I thank God for this grace because I realize how much it is a part of my own salvation and call to continual conversion.
The past few weeks have allowed us to experience this vulnerability at its core. Where life is not cherished death is quite near. We have worked for the past 3 years with a family that we would deem not just dysfunctional but completely deprived of normalcy. The two oldest girls (9 and 7 years old when we first met them) in this family of 4 girls participated in our little girls’ program when they were able always carrying their “babies,” their 2 younger sisters. They were malnourished, dirty, depressed and constantly sick and in crisis. Their dad was an alcoholic and abusive and the mom could not be a mother. She had her first child, Maria Luisa, when she was 13 years old escaping her own abusive situation and never knew anything but surviving. She constantly left the 4 girls alone in the house, sometimes for days at a time without food or instruction and forced Maria Luisa to grow up too quickly.
Maria became the mother. Begged for their food, washed and cleaned, found powdered milk for the babies and all along tried not to demonstrate to her smaller siblings how scared she always was. She is a tremendous little girl, completely generous, too responsible for her age, and very bright. In the midst of impossible circumstances she has managed to pass almost 4 years of school. One tragic night 6 months ago, the kids had been in the house for 3 days without a sign of either of their parents. The 7 month old baby Heydi had been sick for several days, and Maria had no idea what she should do to help her sister. She tried everything she knew to do and in spite of her heroic efforts “her baby” died. We were visited after returning from a Pan de Vida retreat several hours away by the police and 2 hysterical little girls. Their other baby sister was very ill also and had been taken to the hospital by the police and a neighbor. I will never forget the chilling words of Maria Luisa saying to us “Mi bebe se murio”….Es mi culpa mi bebe se murio.” (My baby died….It is my fault, my baby died). This is too much weight for anyone to carry, let alone a twelve year old little girl who grew up too fast and had no recourse to thwart this tragedy.
The two girls stayed in our small missionary home for the first 2 weeks of their separation from their parents and we were able to live as close as you can get to the devastation of lives that have not been raised protected, loved and nurtured. Maria Luisa struggled deeply during this time with thoughts of wanting to die to be with her baby sister and even some plans in ways that she could take her life. We tried with all of our prayer and love to be a small part of the beginnings of the healing process of these 2 little girls.
Their other baby sister was released from the hospital and given back to the mother. We knew in the back of our hearts that this was another tragedy waiting to happen but the courts also decided (under a system that has close to no infrastructure to protect kids) to return the other two girls also to their parents. The parents of course promised to live differently and to care for their remaining kids. The chaos continued and just 3 months later their father was killed and the little girls were back on our doorstep once again devastated and broken. We ask the question often, how much pain can a human being sustain without breaking and dying? With these little girls we have asked this question frequently.
It took just a few short weeks after the murder of the father for the mother to continue in the same pattern. She found a new “boyfriend”, began to leave the kids by themselves again and forced the girls to survive through begging and finding what they needed on the streets and with people who knew their situation and wanted to help in some way.
The girls are street smart. The know how to manipulate systems and people to eat or survive. They never had normalcy and are quite used to existing in the midst of the chaos. Despite this being true, they still feel loss and rejection very deeply. They have suffered so much from feeling like they have never been loved, held, protected and cherished.
It was time for us to make a decision. We knew that if the mom’s patterns continued as usual we would be burying another one of the girls soon. It is just the nature of life and death in an extremely poor urban environment. They would end up very quickly prostitutes or at least horribly used by men and eventually be the next generation of single mothers or addicted with no real hope for a different future. We decided to finally go to Child Protective Services and have them removed from their home and placed somewhere safer and more stable. This was a very difficult day with many tears and anger but at the end of the day we were able to see through prayer that it was God’s grace that these girls were finally out of the chaotic cycle of barely surviving.
We now have the girls in a Catholic orphanage where there are counselors, social workers, stable house parents, activities, formation and all kinds of opportunities to heal and to grow. It is a great gift to see God bring hope into an impossible situation and remind these girls continually of His love and divine plan. Please pray with us for them and also for the possibility of many more kids in crisis to have the opportunity to experience the love and healing of Christ and to be given back the capacity to dream and know they are set apart by God for great things.
Monday, October 30, 2006
MISSIONERS AT WORK
From discipleship, retreats, and evangelization to construction and exciting adventures, the missioners, friars, and local kids are constantly on the move.
Our little girls' group called Ninas del Rey (Girls of the King) consecrated themselves to Our Blessed Mother Mary at a Mass celebrated by Fr. John Anthony, CFR. They proudly smile and show their rosaries.
Br. Mateo and some of the kids from our neighborhood carried the "No to Abortion. Yes to Life" banner for the Pro-life March held on March 25th, the Feast of the Annunciation. The March ended in the central park with a rally featuring praise music from the Missioners and Friars' band as well as talks about the sacredness of life from a local priest and doctor.
Missioners and friends after a day of painting. In May we Missioners moved into our new building. We got to help out with the construction by painting, moving dirt, and even some electrical stuff. Painting usually ending in a paint fight as this one did. :) Pictured (l-r) are Daniel (lay missionary who supervised the construction), Missioners Brittany, Etel, Alyson, and Carol, with Orly (one of the College guys sponsored by MOC).
Teenagers and young adults sing before the Blessed Sacrament at a Pan de Vida (like Youth2000) retreat, a weekend-long encounter with Christ in the Eucharist. In this past year, we've been blessed to put on 3 of these retreats all over Honduras and will end the year with the first one in Casa Guadalupe, the Friars' apostolic center being constructed.
Missioners Etel, Katie, and Maynor are pictured here with Br. Nathanael and the Ramirez Family in front of their new house built by generous benefactors of the friars. This summer the house was painted by a Mission Team. Because the house is so close to us, we are able to visit them often, sometimes even helping with physical and occupational therapy for some of the children.
Realizing that we can do nothing without God, but we can do "all things through Christ who stregthens me," prayer is the foundation of our daily lives and ministry.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A MISSIONER
Many of my friends and family have asked me what I do in a `typical` day. I thought sharing stories of life here would be a good way to start the blog updates. Since `typical` days rarely exist, here are two examples of mission life in Honduras:
One morning I was in a hurry to get sheets and towels out of the storage room because a mom of one of the girls on my class, Rosa, had gone into labor and I was supposed to bring her to the hospital. So, off we went, but you have to bring your own sheets, towels, food, etc. because none of that is provided....very different than our hospital experiences in the states. I dropped her and her sister off and returned to the mission in time to head down to the poorest homes near the river with Fr. John Anthony and Br. Nathaniel who were off to fix a roof (actually, it turned out that they had to build a whole new one because of the condition of the old wood). It´s my favorite area to visit, but a little dangerous, so their going gave me a way to spend most of the day down there visiting my ``abuelitas`` and all their neighbors and playing with tons of kids in the street....and of course I helped a little with the roof, ``supervising.``
Later that afternoon I got to climb an electric pole to rewire the internet because we had just finished moving into our new home, the John Paul II Formation Center. Be careful with Honduran wires....I quickly learned that they`re not COMPLETELY covered with rubber. But after one minor shock, more people came to help. Afterwards I got to drive a Friar-truck back down to the river to pick up the friars and tools and stuff (and to inspect ¨our¨ roof work, of course). Then, back to the house for holy hour, dinner, a much needed shower, and eventually bed.
Another day:
Thusday evening of that same week, I sat in Holy Hour trying to process all the things that had happened that day. It had been an eventful day from the start, and as I tried so hard to pray, the only thing that kept coming to mind was that we all really are one team, one body in Christ. Our expression around here is ¡Vamos equipo! (Go team!), and this particular day it all just made sense how much we have to stick together, fight together, because some celebrate while others mourn...some are constantly aware of our need for prayer, and the power of praying for other members of the one family in Christ.
The day began with Mass, as most days do, and on the way out I ran into Johanna (9), a little girl who stayed with us for a while after her baby sister died because of parental neglect, with bruises on her face from her older sister (12). After breakfast I saw the line growing outside of the friary...the poor waiting for hours in the miserably hot sun just for the CHANCE to talk to a friar. After talking to them, giving them water, and praying for a while, I moved on to visit the parish priest who was suffering from a vein problem in his leg and was couch-ridden for days. He, as most priests around here, has a huge parish and many, many mountain villages in the diocese that he´s in charge of, so days off could cost some villages their priestly visit of the year. Next stop, to see Rosa´s new baby and all the proud and excited older siblings. They were all beaming with joy and running around the yard shouting out name ideas. Around the corner, Doña Lidia, a blind grandmother, was celebrating having her new roof...now she doesnt get wet sleeping when it rains! Once home, a missionary from last year, Tony, called to let us know his brother had drowned. I knew all I could do for Tony and his brother Andrew (18) and their family was pray, so I did. But, if we´re all in this together, wouldn`t others want to join in? So with only ten minutes to spare before I had to go to the airport with Michelle and absolutely nothing to give (no bread, prayers, or even my time), i knew I had to go ask. So, I ran to my abuelitas´house, apologized for not having time to stay, sat down with the living saints, and informed them both that I had a favor to ask. Concerned and excited, they asked what they could do. I told them about Tony´s brother (they knew Tony from the year before), and how all we could do was pray....and the more prayers the better...and I know they´re close to God.
The visit alone was a unique experience because I´ve always walked in that house as a missionary with a reflection, a rosary, a guitar, or as Dulce´s teacher (the grand-/great-grand daughter) informing her of activities, etc. I´ve always had a purpose for going, even if it was just to talk and spend time with them. I´ve always been aware that I walk away having received much more from them than I could ever have given, but I always try to give SOMETHING. On this day, however, I went because they are like family—I can count on them being there like my own family (I miss ya´ll!!!), wanting to see me even if I dont have a purpose for going, and in that moment I needed their help....and they came through. They confirmed my trust and love for them, they encouraged me and prayed for me, and continued praying for Tony and his brother as well as all the others suffering on that day. Another missionary, Brittany, went by later on that day and she said that that had been their first prayer intention. Praise God!
So, off I went to pick up Michelle and head out to Tegucigalpa, but of course I had to play with the boys, Juan Pablo (2) and Emanuel (about 6 months at the time) before we could go. Big news....Emanuel is starting to crawl!
So at the end of the day I sat there in adoration wondering if it was really possible to have been a tiny part of all of that in the same morning. After hearing about and seeing so much suffering in one day, then arriving to celebrate a new baby, a new roof (and hopefully much safer rainy season), babies crawling, etc., I realized that we could only rejoice if we knew suffering, and when we suffer, we have a whole team of our brothers and sisters cheering us on. We talk a lot around here about Bl. Mother Teresa´s quote about entering the ¨holes of the poor.¨ I realized that when you enter these holes, the broken and often painful lives of the poorest of the poor, you have to be able to rejoice with those rejoicing and mourn with those weeping. There were open wounds discovered today (I also hit our dog in the car.....oops, but he´s fine), but the open ones seem to heal easier than the infected and scarred ones, so we have to bring Christ into wounds as quickly as possible while theyre still new—challenging our trust in Him to heal them and give us the strength to continue. We can´t take everything in here, we HAVE to offer it back to Him. And He constantly gives us all strength to keep going....or else I think I wouldve had to find a different job a long time ago.
Many of my friends and family have asked me what I do in a `typical` day. I thought sharing stories of life here would be a good way to start the blog updates. Since `typical` days rarely exist, here are two examples of mission life in Honduras:
One morning I was in a hurry to get sheets and towels out of the storage room because a mom of one of the girls on my class, Rosa, had gone into labor and I was supposed to bring her to the hospital. So, off we went, but you have to bring your own sheets, towels, food, etc. because none of that is provided....very different than our hospital experiences in the states. I dropped her and her sister off and returned to the mission in time to head down to the poorest homes near the river with Fr. John Anthony and Br. Nathaniel who were off to fix a roof (actually, it turned out that they had to build a whole new one because of the condition of the old wood). It´s my favorite area to visit, but a little dangerous, so their going gave me a way to spend most of the day down there visiting my ``abuelitas`` and all their neighbors and playing with tons of kids in the street....and of course I helped a little with the roof, ``supervising.``
Later that afternoon I got to climb an electric pole to rewire the internet because we had just finished moving into our new home, the John Paul II Formation Center. Be careful with Honduran wires....I quickly learned that they`re not COMPLETELY covered with rubber. But after one minor shock, more people came to help. Afterwards I got to drive a Friar-truck back down to the river to pick up the friars and tools and stuff (and to inspect ¨our¨ roof work, of course). Then, back to the house for holy hour, dinner, a much needed shower, and eventually bed.
Another day:
Thusday evening of that same week, I sat in Holy Hour trying to process all the things that had happened that day. It had been an eventful day from the start, and as I tried so hard to pray, the only thing that kept coming to mind was that we all really are one team, one body in Christ. Our expression around here is ¡Vamos equipo! (Go team!), and this particular day it all just made sense how much we have to stick together, fight together, because some celebrate while others mourn...some are constantly aware of our need for prayer, and the power of praying for other members of the one family in Christ.
The day began with Mass, as most days do, and on the way out I ran into Johanna (9), a little girl who stayed with us for a while after her baby sister died because of parental neglect, with bruises on her face from her older sister (12). After breakfast I saw the line growing outside of the friary...the poor waiting for hours in the miserably hot sun just for the CHANCE to talk to a friar. After talking to them, giving them water, and praying for a while, I moved on to visit the parish priest who was suffering from a vein problem in his leg and was couch-ridden for days. He, as most priests around here, has a huge parish and many, many mountain villages in the diocese that he´s in charge of, so days off could cost some villages their priestly visit of the year. Next stop, to see Rosa´s new baby and all the proud and excited older siblings. They were all beaming with joy and running around the yard shouting out name ideas. Around the corner, Doña Lidia, a blind grandmother, was celebrating having her new roof...now she doesnt get wet sleeping when it rains! Once home, a missionary from last year, Tony, called to let us know his brother had drowned. I knew all I could do for Tony and his brother Andrew (18) and their family was pray, so I did. But, if we´re all in this together, wouldn`t others want to join in? So with only ten minutes to spare before I had to go to the airport with Michelle and absolutely nothing to give (no bread, prayers, or even my time), i knew I had to go ask. So, I ran to my abuelitas´house, apologized for not having time to stay, sat down with the living saints, and informed them both that I had a favor to ask. Concerned and excited, they asked what they could do. I told them about Tony´s brother (they knew Tony from the year before), and how all we could do was pray....and the more prayers the better...and I know they´re close to God.
The visit alone was a unique experience because I´ve always walked in that house as a missionary with a reflection, a rosary, a guitar, or as Dulce´s teacher (the grand-/great-grand daughter) informing her of activities, etc. I´ve always had a purpose for going, even if it was just to talk and spend time with them. I´ve always been aware that I walk away having received much more from them than I could ever have given, but I always try to give SOMETHING. On this day, however, I went because they are like family—I can count on them being there like my own family (I miss ya´ll!!!), wanting to see me even if I dont have a purpose for going, and in that moment I needed their help....and they came through. They confirmed my trust and love for them, they encouraged me and prayed for me, and continued praying for Tony and his brother as well as all the others suffering on that day. Another missionary, Brittany, went by later on that day and she said that that had been their first prayer intention. Praise God!
So, off I went to pick up Michelle and head out to Tegucigalpa, but of course I had to play with the boys, Juan Pablo (2) and Emanuel (about 6 months at the time) before we could go. Big news....Emanuel is starting to crawl!
So at the end of the day I sat there in adoration wondering if it was really possible to have been a tiny part of all of that in the same morning. After hearing about and seeing so much suffering in one day, then arriving to celebrate a new baby, a new roof (and hopefully much safer rainy season), babies crawling, etc., I realized that we could only rejoice if we knew suffering, and when we suffer, we have a whole team of our brothers and sisters cheering us on. We talk a lot around here about Bl. Mother Teresa´s quote about entering the ¨holes of the poor.¨ I realized that when you enter these holes, the broken and often painful lives of the poorest of the poor, you have to be able to rejoice with those rejoicing and mourn with those weeping. There were open wounds discovered today (I also hit our dog in the car.....oops, but he´s fine), but the open ones seem to heal easier than the infected and scarred ones, so we have to bring Christ into wounds as quickly as possible while theyre still new—challenging our trust in Him to heal them and give us the strength to continue. We can´t take everything in here, we HAVE to offer it back to Him. And He constantly gives us all strength to keep going....or else I think I wouldve had to find a different job a long time ago.
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