I saw A Day Without a Mexican over the weekend. The mockumentary follows what happens when one day all of California wakes up to find a third of its population missing in a rapture-esqu disappearance. Of those missing--anyone of Hispanic descent except for one latina news reporter Lila. The movie, while delivering a serious message of the contribution latinos make to Californian society, is also comical. My favorite--when a crazy conspiracy theorist claims that all the latinos were abducted by aliens. His proof: A picture he has of a man named Jose wearing a sombrero. The sombrero, when overlaid by a transparency of a UFO lines up exactly.

The good points of the movie proclaimed how much people of Latin American descent contribute to California--it is sad that that can even be a question in a person's mind.

California's economy would not survive or be as thriving as it is without the Hispanic workforce--documented and undocumented. Los Angeles itself is very much a first world city that sits on top of a third world city. Interesting to think of American cities in that light.

..perhaps I'll expand more on this in the near future.

I spoke too soon about DCFS. Signing the papers was easy...Spending Tuesday morning in children's court and Saturday night waiting to get fingerprinted was not cool. It was not the fact of having to be present that sucked, it was observing the highly inefficient matter under which this government agency operates that was annoying. In the end it will be worth it, but for the time being I'll temporarily appease my rotten attitude by ranting about the process. Why they make it so difficult to do something helpful for a kid--I'll never understand. For all the hassle they put you through you'd think they'd get quality people in the system. How is that they still end up with jacked up foster parents who mess with kids or do other terrible things?

Well, the L.A. County DCFS has impressed me for the first time in my experience with them. Ms. Gomez, a social worker, visited our house last night, spoke with Bernardo, and then with me. In the course of 35 minutes we became foster parents......I guess the secret to getting through the system so quickly is first to acquire the kid, then to call the state instead of going through all the headaches of applying to be a foster parent.

We are all relieved. Bernardo and I had a great time last evening over tea discussing many things. My hope is that he can breathe again, that he can relax, that he can rest, that he can not worry for this time in his life.

Bernardo has been with us a little over a week now. Our family is enjoying our time with him and he proves to be a unique guy. We've spent nights outside around the hookah, or indoors with coffee and pan dulce.

Our relationship that is developing with this 17 year old is very much symbiotic. He needs that which is tangible and immediate--a place to stay and food. But what we are receiving from Bernardo is the opportunity to live a life which is transparent before him.

Last week, over a very late night dinner, Bernardo made a comment to David and I that he'd never seen anyone treat each other as well we did.

I've been thinking a lot this week about "calling" "vocation" and "mission." When I was in college I couldn't wait to graduate so that I could be "out in the field" physically serving people. I think I envisioned great things in college--I saw myself 'loosing the chains of injustice and freeing the oppressed' as Isaiah talks about. It has been hard to see that hope and vision play out through the mundane of daily existence.

I've been asking myself some hard questions lately--wondering if I can be content if God has me doing what I do now indefinitely. "What if this is it" I think to myself.

Somehow, after one week with Bernardo, my thoughts have changed. Living with Bernardo is true community. Bringing another human being into my private space and the day to day life of my family is life changing. Being given the opportunity to extend ourselves to this living, breathing, image of God is incredible. Being given this opportunity to offer love and three people who truly care care about a 17 year old street kid is freeing the oppressed on one level. Likewise, by Bernardo giving us the privilege to house him, he changes us and our views of the world, God, and community.

More and more I am coming to the conclusion that it doesn't matter what my JOB might be. It's the rest of my life that matters. There is more power in how I live my life outside of the hours of 9am-5pm. If my husband and I can model a loving relationship so much so that it causes a 17 year old to take notice, then its worth it. If our family can become more that just a place to stay for Bernardo (and I believe it already has) then that is living out the kingdom of God on a small scale.

I'll close with the words of Nouwen from his journal Gracias!

More and more, the desire grows in me simply to walk around, greet people,
enter their homes, sit on their doorsteps, play ball, throw water, and be
known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to have
the time and the freedom to practice this simple ministry of presence.
Still, it is not as simple as it seems. My own desire to be useful, to
do something significant, or to be part of some impressive project is so
strong that soon my time is taken up by meetings, conferences, study groups,
and workshops that prevent me from walking the streets. It is difficult not
to have plans, not to organize people around an urgent cause, and not to
feel that you are working directly for social progress. But,I wonder more and
more if the first thing should be to know people by name,
to eat and to drink with them, to listen to their stories, and tell your own,
and to let them know with words, handshakes, and hugs that you do not simply
like them, but truly love them.

How these words ring true in my own life..........

I walked away from a very disfunctional human rights organization about six weeks ago. Looking back, it has been the right thing to do and I have greater perspective on just how disfunctional it truly was.

I really thought that leaving six weeks ago was it. I'd never go back.....But a person whom I respect called on Friday night and asked if I could hang out with some of the kids from the homeless shelter on Saturday afternoon because they had no one else to work. I did it, but only because I love the boys and would have the chance to interact with. They are amazing.

One of my favorite kids, Bernardo, a 17 year old from D.F., was referred out of the shelter a little over a month ago. I didn't know where he was, and while driving into work on Saturday he was on my mind. Upon pulling into the driveway to the shelter, he was there sitting on the front porch, waiting to gather the remainder of his things he'd left behind. We had a chance to catch up and chat. He ate frootloops, I knitted a shawl I've been working on the past month. He told me he'd been staying at the Salvation Army for the past month but that it was only a 30 day shelter so his time had come to an end. He had no where to go and had spent the previous night sleeping in MacArthur Park. Throughout this entire month of transition he remained in school--attending every day and getting good grades.

Bernardo is at his end though. With nowhere to go and little hope, this 17 year old, mature beyond his years, is thinking about moving back to Tijuana.

While we talked the words "if a son asks for bread what father would give him a stone....." (loose paraphrase) kept running through my mind. I thought about how taking him in might complicate my life and all that that entails. The bottom line became though that this kid had nowhere but a very unfriendly street to turn to. Why was it even a question in my mind? I am so grateful to have a husband who has the most amazing heart in the world and welcomed Bernardo to stay with us with open arms.

This is the kingdom of God at work.
It is not the healthy that need a doctor......

It has only been two days. Bernardo might leave tomorrow or he might be back. We have the privilege to host him in our house.

The creator of the universe reveals himself in wonderful ways.

I just met with the woman who is in the midst of the domestic violence battle with her former husband. I wrote a little about her a few weeks ago. I've been spending more and more time with her and have developed a deep appreciation and love for her.

I am just returning from her office now where she gave me the necklace off her neck because I admired it. It was such a beautiful gesture and I had a hard time accepting the gift but then realized that I must. One lesson that keeps coming up in this field of work is that I HAVE TO allow myself to receive from those that I am "helping" and working with. Just as I extend hospitality I must be willing to receive it in unexpected places. Sometimes I think it is much harder to receive than give.

It is a lesson that I began learning when I first traveled to Haiti at the age of 14. I went with a very condescending attitude that I would be the American Savior sent to help the helpless. I don't know how I came to have that attitude, I just did. I know now how despicable that sort of mentality is, and I am forever indebted to the Haitians I came into contact with. Haiti began to revolutionize the way I viewed the rest of the world. Like many people who travel from American Abundance to nightmarish poverty and spend time in community with these allegedly helpless people, I was quickly brought to my knees in repentance for such ignorant thoughts. The Haitians who had nothing--gave everything. This woman I am currently working with is in danger of losing everything--yet she gives.