Family Dinners and Movie Nights

"I'm really glad you're here," she said. This wasn't the first or even second time she'd said it. And yet, each time felt just as sincere as the first.

"Me too," I smiled. 

As I unpacked, she sat on my bed watching "Mean Girls," her movie of choice. She thumbed through my old photos as she watched while laughing out loud at scenes on the TV screen. 

Blacks, browns, blues, now reds, now yellows, greens. My clothes always hung in order of color in my closet, it makes choosing an outfit easier. I had unpacked these same clothes many times over the years. My dresser, old, brown, and beaten from various moves, held my belongings just as comfortably as it did 10 years ago when it was purchased.

But this time, unpacking was different.

My clothes fit in the closet, my photos hung in similar positions on the walls and my bathroom carried all my toiletries. This new home wasn't going to be like any I had lived in before. Nothing about this place would be just another living situation.

"Mind if I lay down?" she asked.

"No of course not, get comfortable"

After the movie, when all lights were out at the house, and the women were in bed, I began to realize what an exciting experience this would be. This home that will be my dwelling place for the next few months is home to women who had been previously sexually exploited. Their lives had been about dark streets, hours of men looking for pleasure, and verbal and physical abuses of pimps. I will never fully grasp any of this. 

But movie nights, ice cream dates, Nintendo contests, these things I can relate with. Late night chats and family dinners, these are my new reality. When I wake up in the mornings, I'm no longer only responsible for myself. I am a house mom, I am there to be an encouragement to the women, to be a disciplinary figure, and to be a friend. We are going through life together and learning from each other.

The next morning, I headed to work and returned home late. I had missed dinner and the women had already left for their AA meeting. After showering, I continued to unpack and organize my room. Hearing steps and voices come through the front door I soon realized the women were back. It didn't take long before I heard her familiar voice.

"Where's Nicolle? Is she in her room?"

A knock on my door followed.

"Come in!" I exclaimed.

This same girl from the night before was eager to see me and chat about our days. She had missed me. I felt wanted. We spoke of the long day and headed to the den to watch a new movie. 

I am at the GenerateHope house to share love for these women. And yet, in the few days I've spent there, I have been shown more love by this woman than I could have expected. I'm nervous about what my role at the house will look like, the times when things won't be as easy. Things will get messy. Arguments will ensue.  But what good is life if you choose to hide behind fear and never step out and experience new things?

I am grateful for this new time in my life and can't wait to see how I will be challenged and changed, even in this short time.

I Am the 9/11 Generation

Story by Carrie Adams, Sojourners Mag

For every American student, September starts a new year. September was a time to put away the suntan lotion and refocus on studies — on more serious pursuits. Gone were the carefree days of summer, and in came the weather that lives perfectly in my memory — those almost orange leaves, crisp blue skies, and the faint smell of autumn in upstate New York.

I remember it like this 10 years ago. Fourteen and gearing up for a Varsity volleyball season, I had it all. I had only one worry — that my dad would forget to pick me up from practice, which he never did.

My class had just finished homeroom – it was my friend’s 15th birthday. I don’t remember singing, but I’m sure we did. I moved into my world history class, I think we were on the Greeks. And then, it changed. My choir teacher rushed in and frantically told us to turn on the television. We saw the hallways fill with teachers.

I remember staring at the screen, watching what had to be a movie. It couldn’t be real. I was too shocked to make sense of it. A boy in my class started to panic. His dad got on a plane that morning and was flying out of New York. He bolted out of the classroom, racing to find a phone, tears in his eyes, thinking of the unthinkable. His fear blinded him, overtook him and his memory — his dad’s luggage was in the kitchen that morning; he had been rerouted and flew in late the night before and was safely asleep at home. We kept watching the coverage, caught President Bush’s hasty, honest press conference, and heard, for the first time, someone say, “war.”

The whole of my political memory has been war. Sure, I was around for Bill Clinton, but George W. Bush is the first president I remember engaging with and my memory starts with retaliation, with vengeance, with war. I have nothing else, but I long to move past it, to find a new way to heal, not through violence, but through dialogue.

And so here we are, 10 years later, looking back on a decade of conflict, still so blinded by our own fear that some of us rage against Islamic centers and spew hatred instead of hope. I am the 9/11 generation. It is the event that marks our lives: before and after. But we see our new world only through the fog of war, through the haze of misinformation that has become the norm. We have the specter of war, but it has been so prevalent that we barely notice it. But when we do reencounter it, when it stares us in the face, like it does this weekend, how can we respond? How can we reconcile our fear and our need for closure? Bush chose violence, I choose peace.

Sojourners and the World Evangelical Alliance co-sponsored a press conference this morning overlooking Ground Zero. (The picture above was our view from the conference.) We brought together voices to remind us of every angle of this event, including the global impact, the ongoing healing, the biblical call to reconciliation, and the Christian response to terrorism. More than 5,000 people have also signed our 9/11 Commemoration Pledge,agreeing to stand shoulder to shoulder with people of all faith and of no faith, who are helping to build a nation that reflects our best values.

I’m proud of this event, not for what it is, but for whom it represents. For the Christians who welcome Muslims into their neighborhoods. For the Protestant firemen who let Catholic priests pray over them that day. For the little girls who sit at lunch tables with the new kid in school. We’ve been instructed to love our neighbors and as far as I can tell, persecution, prejudice, discrimination, and picketing outside a mosque aren’t part of ‘love.’

And so with this September comes another a new year, a time to reconsider our commitment to unity, to mourn the loss of life, but to clear the fog of war and move to a more just, welcoming world.

He's Not Perfect

You Are...

Free-Spirited

Beautiful. I wish this dress was in my closet.

Paralyzed by Happiness

I heard a story yesterday on This American Life. It was about a man and his positive emotions.

One day, while showering, he found himself unable to move and his body keeled over, leaving him paralyzed. He began telling himself to just "get up," willing himself to stand up like he knew he could. Finally after a few minutes he stood again and passed it off as a random occurrence.

But then the attacks began to happen daily, more than once a day, sometimes three times a day. Once he found himself lying in a bed of flowers for thirty minutes before he could move again. He began to seek medical advice, spoke with therapists and visited sleep doctors. Three years went by without a diagnosis. Until one day, he got one.

Narcolepsy with cataplexy. The cataplexy is what leaves him paralyzed. Researchers estimate that more than 1 Million people have this disease. While their is no cure and no reasoning for the cause, scientists have been able to find out what triggers the cataplexy.

Strong positive emotions. You know, things like...joy, happiness, laughter. Literally when he feels happy he becomes paralyzed.

Four years since his diagnosis and there is no end in sight. He has to daily learn to hold back positive emotions to keep from triggering an attack.

I thought about this for awhile. To go through life, hoping not to feel joy and hoping that when your wife holds your hand that your heart doesn't speed up. Or that when your children hug you so tightly and exclaim their love for you, that the overwhelming emotion doesn't cause you to collapse.

This last week leading up to the Feeding the Soul Foundation event for GenerateHope on Saturday, I found it extremely hard to sleep. I was too excited to sleep. Yes, I realize this puts me in the same category as six year-olds heading to Disneyland the next day. But I've been this way for as long as I can remember.

Laying in bed at night I begin to think of whatever exciting event is about to happen and my heart speeds up, my brain starts imagining the endless possibilities and my body feels as if it is ready to run a marathon. Typically, this means the next day you'll see a zombie in my place.

So, what if I couldn't experience joy or rather...was cautioned not to?

I can't imagine a life without the emotions of happiness. Have you ever considered the lack of those emotions and the blessings that they are in your life? The act of your heart feeling love or a song bringing back fond memories...you'd have to go without those experiences in order to keep from an attack.

Thinking about all this I decided I probably would have been paralyzed all week if I were that man. Just a 27-year-old girl lying on her bed hoping to wait out her positive emotions.

The event proved another success by the beautiful team at Feeding the Soul Foundation. I was thankful to hear Tristan Prettyman speak on behalf of GenerateHope and share her heart with her vulnerable songs. The Makepeace Brothers wooed the crowd as we danced and Finian Makepeace shared his passion for helping those who have been trafficked in the world.

This past weekend I was overwhelmed with joy. Over 250 people came out to support us and our cause. People spent their time, money and efforts to put on an event that would benefit a new house for the women at GenerateHope. Pure joy.

Have you laughed today? Thought about a new crush? Kissed your husband? Maybe you should consider that for a minute. And then, take a minute to thank God that you are not paralyzed every time this happens. Because life is good and our sweaty palms and beating hearts are daily reminders of this.

The musicians at the FTSF event, photo by www.laurenalissephotography.com.

I've Been Thinking...

It's been so long since I've sat down to write a real blog. It feels uncomfortable. I don't even know what I want to say. Thirty minutes later...I'm still at a loss. Some thoughts this week:

1. Does being single at 27 mean I'm smart for taking the time to learn who I am before saying I'll spend the rest of my life with someone? Not that those married already aren't smart, but for me, it took me awhile to understand my heart and decide on the kind of man I wanted to be with. Or does it mean I'm behind, missed my opportunity, or that I'm not the kind of girl a man wants to call his wife?

I've been to two weddings in the past month. I went alone to both. Apparently that is not normal. Is my final goal in life to get married, have children and live a nice life? If so, I'm failing miserably. If not, then I am doing just fine. Guess I'll figure it out one day...hopefully.

2. What if we spent our entire lives searching for ourselves, researching "how-to" change the world, or getting stuck in the "I can't" mentality? What a sad world that would be.

A few weeks ago I got a new tattoo on the inside of my right forearm. I've debated this for awhile, what will people think, will they make fun of the simplicity of the obvious statement?

Maybe. Probably. And then I realized, this is my body and my decision. So I walked into a tattoo shop and 10 minutes later, I had new ink. I've been thinking about this lately because I think we can spend our whole lives trying to make a difference in the world just by "thinking" about it. We watch shows or people and wish we could do what they are doing for the poor, abused, or hungry.

The beautiful thing is, we can. We are capable. We are the change in the world, we are the reason laws will be changed and people will be helped. We are created with the potential to use our talents for the good of others. But we can't sit around and wait for that to happen through others, we need to be moved to action and do something.

3. I'm at the age where I'm comfortable choosing to only call a select group of people in my life my "dearest friends." These people have shared hard times with me, laughed with me, probably fought with me, and have heard my secrets. I'm no longer looking to add to my Facebook friends list with names that mean nothing more than a number on my list. I accept the fact that not all people I have met or will meet will understand me.

But those who do stick around to find out and love me despite myself, those people I feel blessed to call "friend". Real friendship is so important to me because it frees me to open up and exercise honesty and vulnerability. For those of you who have seen my awkward, weird, and messy sides, thank you for continuing to journey through life with me.

So those are some things that

have kept me thinking this week. This weekend I'm in San Diego for the first time in 5 weekends. I can't wait to enjoy my city. Praying for sun and some acai!