Journal Entry: real personal, real important

I’m gonna type up something I wrote in class one day when we were discussing community initiatives. We were divided into groups and asked to describe different words. One group had the word “poverty.” They listed words like, “no hope, drugs, dirty, AIDS, trash…and the list went on.” What I’m about to type up is really personal, but I feel like it’s kind of important because I’m never able to let you in on what I’m feeling during a mission trip because I’m always here during them. And when I come back, I’m so muddled and confused in my own feelings and reactions that I don’t give you an accurate picture. So here’s a little insight to the world of Allyson (as of now).

“I’m in my internship class and SOOO frustrated. One girl just listed off all of her feelings about poverty-all the words she associates with poverty. One of the first was no hope. I jumped on it and said, “I have seen poverty, and there is hope. Every summer we go to a poor, poor village and the name is Hope. You have to see it, you have to experience it.” Plain and simple, she just doesn’t know anything about it. And this is one of the things that really bothers me. But I always remember that I never knew about it, and I still hardly know. I just know what I’ve seen, and that I have best friends that live in that situation, and that there is hope. But you’ve got to experience it before you can say something like that. I’m sitting here mad and frustrated. I knew Arianna (a good friend who knows about our trips to San Pedro, is the teacher of the class, but we had a guest speaker this day) heard what I said. But the worst part is when someone you super respect calls you out and speaks such truth that it strikes you. She said like 10 min later, “Allyson, do you think maybe you (I) just see hope because you see those people one week out of the year when you bring medical supplies and gifts and make them smile?” I’ve just been sitting here stewing/hopeless myself ever since. Then I remembered other things we’ve done. We don’t just bring meds. We’ve built stuff. I want to go see Esperanza so badly. I want to see the playground. I want to see them during the year and see that what we do doesn’t just last one week. Because I can’t believe that it does. If it affects me the whole year and gives me reason to live, how can it only affect the people we work with for only one week. It can’t be. I won’t settle to the views of this world and the absence of hope they have. And I’m talking hope like HOPE. Hope in God, faith in your heart. Great Love. That’s what makes the world go round. I need to remember why I’m here. {At this point, I was not paying attention to the Spanish flying around the room as I was obviously journaling in English. The guest speaker asked me a question to the effect of, “How do you know that what you do during one week is sustained through the year?” Now, if I needed a sign from God, there it was! It was like someone was giving me a chance to tell myself that what we do does matter, and does last. I replied, “Because we work with the same pastor year after year. And she works with everyone in our absence, and makes sure the things we bring and build are put to good use. And we haven’t been doing a medical clinic since the beginning. We started it after we saw a need.” He seemed satisfied with my answer, and I did too.}I’m here to learn Spanish and follow my heart and discover myself. (at that point I left, and my journal ends.)”

So, there’s insight into my feelings to date, if you’d like to comment, go for it.

“Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle. Live simply, love generously, care deeply, speak kindly…and leave the rest to God.”