My brothers and sisters

I recently returned from a trip to Kenya.  I was part of a group of eleven delegates from throughout the St. Cloud Diocese traveling to our partner diocese of Homa Bay in western Kenya.  As was my first journey there in 2006, it was beautiful.  The colors, the landscape, the music.  But most of all - the people.  Truly beautiful! 

It is difficult to find the words, nor do I think that any sort of blog posting could accurately reflect all that I continue to learn and feel through my involvement with our partners in Homa Bay, on this journey let alone over the years.  So I once again am going to borrow words from someone else.  Below is a reflection I love from the Maryknoll Book of Inspiration, originally by Anthony de Mello.  For quite some time I've found this reflection deeply lovely and true; it is why I do the ministry I do and what I strive to help others towards on a daily basis in my work and faith.  But it sits in a place even deeper now, even more lovely to me and far more true, at this time following my weeks in Kenya and the people - the brothers and sisters - I was blessed to be with there.  

How we see

A guru asked his disciples how they could tell when the night had ended and the day begun.

One said, "When you see an animal in the distance and can tell whether it is a cow or a horse."

"No," said the guru.

"When you look at a tree in the distance and can tell if it is a neem tree or a mango tree."

"Wrong again," said the guru.

"Well, then, what is it?" asked his disciples.

"When you look into the face of any man and recognize your brother in him; when you look into the face of any woman and recognize in her your sister.  If you cannot do this, no matter what time it is by the sun, it is still night."

(Anthony de Mello, from Anthony de Mello: Selected Writings, edited by William Dych, S.J.) 

It gets dark in Kenya (really dark), but it is never "night."  The people know how to truly see Christ, see their brothers and sisters, in those they meet.  Although I have been trying to avoid the "photo album" posts, in this case I cannot resist sharing more photos than you care to actually look at.  Because to me, they're more than just photos - they're day!  Here are some of the snapshots of my brothers and sisters I was blessed to walk with in Homa Bay: 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To these, the many more captured by my eye's lens rather than camera lens, and to the billions more all over the world yet to be met but who have still captured a piece of my heart simply by being my brothers and sisters in our creation by the same loving, creative and diverse GOD - I thank you!  Thank you for seeing me as your sister!  

I pray I can return and pay-forward the favor.  And thank you GOD for giving me such an amazing family!  

 

"In mercy and in love, unite all God's children wherever they may be"

What's in a name: October 15th prayers

I spent years laughing at the episode.  The episode of  "Friends" where Chandler's co-worker calls him "Toby" and has for years, because once he started it was too awkward to correct him, so he just kept allowing it...until it got complicated.  (Watch the clip here)

Years laughing at it, that is until it actually happened to me.  That's right, the owner and primary worker at the Curves where I work out regularly started calling me "Katrina."  I thought I'd corrected her but she kept at it; and in my passive, non-confrontational way I made sure that the other employees there knew my real name so maybe when they left notes about me or talked about me, she'd catch on.  But no.  I remained "Katrina" for years!  Finally, about two months ago, when she looked at the computer and announced to me that she'd spelled my name wrong, and then proceeded to spell it out loud, correctly, I finally told her that "K-a-t-e-r-i" is actually my name.  Then in front of the whole group of women also exercising at that time, we practiced its pronunciation.  I think she may have it down now...hopefully.  

But it really got me thinking about what is in a name.  Why did it bother me so much to be called something different?  Why did I want so badly (though not badly enough to enter the awkward situation of correcting her after too much time) to be called by my name, a name that is truly me?  

My name is important to me, and always has been.  Growing up I was "Kati," a name which still has a lot of family value for me.  But as I got into my late teens, and especially in college, I really started identifying myself more as "Kateri" - a name with a lot of value of its own, value I wanted to be mine, and therefore loved that my name meant something to me and called me to something more.  Every time I hear or say my name, I am reminded to be a saint, to live for something bigger than myself. 

That, in a very brief nutshell, is what my name means to me.  So when it came time to name our soon-to-be-born children, I really struggled.  I knew how valuable the right name could be (and being called "Katrina" for years has reminded me of how frustrating the wrong name can be).  I knew how important it was that the name we give our children be names that fit them and their unique selves, but also that form them and call them into something.  Hopefully something beautiful. 

It's too soon to tell for sure if we did Adrian and Lilly's naming well, though I'd like to think that so far at least our little ones certainly fit their names (Adrian Donald the "gentle leader" and Lilly Elizabeth the "strong woman, promise of GOD").  I'd like to think we named all three of our children well.  

Our first baby was the easiest to name.  We had a name all picked out for her.  But then came May of 2009, when we found out that our 12 week in-utero baby no longer had a heartbeat.  And for a while, my heart stopped too.  It is hard to describe how much it hurts, missing someone you never knew.  And yet, as a mother, somehow I already did know my little one.  I knew in my heart, though no ultrasounds had shown us yet, that it was a little girl.  I knew in my heart that she was going to be sweet and beautiful.  I knew in my heart that she would be daddy's little girl.  I knew in my heart that she would be loved.  And it broke me that I never got to prove my heart right, by sharing her with the world!  And so, my heart stopped.  It stopped being joyful, it stopped being happy, it stopped being hopeful....until it came time to name our child.  

And in this first naming experience, I did not struggle.  Somehow, along with all I knew in my heart about her, we both knew in our hearts what our daughter's name was:

Esperanza.

Esperanza means "hope" in Spanish.  And though it was not anywhere near the name we had picked out for her originally, this name fit her.  And this name has made her into something so much greater than just herself.  Through her name, my daughter helped me find hope again, and eventually along with it the joy and happiness after that very dark period in my life.  Through her name, my little angel has helped me remain hopeful in so many other areas, including future dark periods, of my life - and especially in my motherhood.  Through her name, my daughter is hope and brings hope and makes me want to be hope. She is, in my heart and in how she lives on in my life, something beautiful.  And so with her, I know we did her naming very well.  

It's amazing all that can be in a name - the right name at least.  

.  .  .  .  .  . 

October 15th is a day very near and dear to my heart.  Unlike Christmas, Halloween or my husband's birthday, this one is not a holiday I look forward to, yet one that since that difficult May of 2009 has become a day always marked on my calendar...and more permanently, on my heart.  October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.   Many of my dear family and friends have also lost their babies due to miscarriage, some before and some after me.  And countless more strangers have lost theirs to miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS or other far too early ends to their precious little ones' lives in this world.  For all you women (and men) out there who have lost your babies, at any stage too early, please know that my prayers are with you today.  

Prayers for Hope!