Hi Everyone!
I've just about been back for a month already (time is still flying by!). I've been quite overwhelmed with hearing about how many people were reading my blog and how much you all have enjoyed it. Now, I realize I'm no longer in Spain, but if you're still hungry for some good blog reading, I'll continue to write. I've also added a section to the right with links to some other good blogs and sites you might enjoy.
People keep asking me two questions. How are you adjusting to life back home again? and What are you going to do now?
Both questions are somehow better left as questions because the answers aren't all that interesting. I've been spending alot of time in my pajamas. Trying not to overload my schedule and just taking things slowly. I'm enjoying catching up with loads of people over lunches and dinners and hearing about the things that have gone on here in people's lives. I've also been getting back into some things at church. The youth group is starting to fund raise heavily for this summer's trip to Christ in Youth in California, and I got to help out with the Living Last Supper production they did last week. I'm quite excited that God brought me back just early enough to be involved in those things I thought I was going to miss!! And to earn some money while I'm here, I'm working with my brother at Zia at whatever sporting event they need to sell merchandise at next.
As for what I'm going to do next, I've petitioned prayer from anyone interested as I sort through the options. I don't want to feel pressured, like I have to make a decision today about where to go next. I have my moments of stress about it, but after a conversation with a lady at church, she reminded me about how EXCITING it is having the whole future wide open and being able to have options and choose. I feel like the options I have are all wonderful, challenging, useful for God, and fun for me...so any one would be great! I need to just choose one and tackle it!!
So there you go. I'm really excited about the opportunities God has given me to talk about my trip, the things I've learned, the ways I've seen God work. I'm going to be able to share with alot of people, and in that, the trip continues and is still applicable. Isn't that why we go on adventures and experience things? So we can tell others about it and hopefully spark a bit of fire in them also?
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 6, 2008
"THE" Story
Here’s the infamous story of how I came to arrive in Philadelphia, USA two months earlier than planned. The following saga is quite unbelievable.
(I began typing this out on Sunday en route) I am currently in London’s Heathrow airport awaiting a flight to the good old USA. I arrived at the Madrid airport on my flight from Casablanca, Morocco on Friday afternoon and the lady at the passport control desk saw my date of arrival in Spain and my date of departure two days earlier and noticed the difference of 6 months. She said, “This can’t be!” The law states that you can enter Spain on a tourist visa for a maximum of three months within a six month period. The fact that I had been in Spain for more than three months caused quite a problem. Coralie and Esther had made it through customs fine (A Spain resident and a resident of the European Union) and were waiting for me when I had to tell them that she noticed the 3 month problem and that I had to go sit to the side. Coralie told me not to cry and that it’ll be okay. I cried. I was terrified of what they were going to do to me! The not-nice lady had kept my passport and I was sitting shamed on the sidelines. I wasn’t alone, and pretty soon a security guard came and moved a group of us to another room. He called my name and explained the law, I explained my situation (I was working as a volunteer, I wasn’t earning money, I wasn’t seeking residency, all my money was from the States, I already had a return flight booked for April…), he shook his head in bewilderment and sent me to sit down again. Pretty soon the group of us were moved upstairs. He called me over again, I explained my situation again to another woman, she shook her head in bewilderment and sent me away again. We went upstairs to the “sala” where they patted me down, took all my baggage and sifted through it, kept the electronic stuff and toiletry stuff, and sent me into the waiting room with everyone else. They allowed me to keep my cell phone because it doesn’t take photos. This turned out to be a great blessing to have the communication with the outside. The cell battery was on near empty and registered empty for all of Saturday, but it continued to work all day long (Thank you Jesus). Me and about 75 other “illegals” trying to enter Spain were in this holding room. Luckily they fed us and sent us to bed. The food, I imagine, was a horrible cross between airplane food and jail food (what do you expect from Airport Jail?). The beds were Ikea issued bunkbeds and no one told me we could ask for sheets, so the bare mattress and a blanket that probably 1000 other people have used in the last month and sleep. I’d been on and off the phone with the faithful WECcers who were doing everything in their power to get me out. Alex and Maribel and Steve and Coralie and Esther in their brilliant Spanish minds and knowledge of the system and extensive work with immigrants, went down to the airport to coax them into letting me go. Apparently there was quite a group outside fighting for my release. Yet, I stayed and waited. They said we’d have interviews the next day. About 10:30am the next morning they called my name to go have an interview with a lawyer and a customs officer. After sitting another 3 hours they finally got to me. (Did I mention my desperate need to use the bathroom and the nice officer lady told me I had to wait because she hadn’t had the chance to go either!). The officer and lawyer explained to me the law again and I understood. They said by law they have to send me back from where I came, which would be Morocco, but because of the impressive nature of the American Passport they said they’d break the rules and let me return to the States instead. If I could secure and show proof of a plane ticket to America before my scheduled 8:45pm flight to Casablanca, I could go. And the flight itself had to be for today or tomorrow. I frantically got a hold of Steve and let him know that they needed to call WEC and have them change my plane ticket for a flight for Saturday or Sunday, have the boarding pass presented to the customs officials, and if possible, get someone into my room in Alcala to pack up all my things. It was now 2:30pm and we had until my 8:45 flight to arrange all of this (but really only until 5:30 when the officer lady in charge was going to go home for the day). I was in one of those positions where I couldn’t do anything but sit and wait and trust that everyone else was doing everything they could. WEC USA was on the ball getting my ticket, Maribel and all the other ladies in the residence were sifting through my things and throwing them in my suitcases, and Steve and Coralie were coordinating it all and communicating with me. I was a wreck! About 5pm I talked to Steve and he said he had my plane ticket, was on his way to get my bags and then would bring them all to the airport. Phew! Tonda in the WEC USA office had gotten my ticket straightened out in just over an hour! They had procured a 7am flight to the USA, my bags were securely checked (after they had initially said I could get my bags, then the other lady said absolutely no baggage could be brought, then they finally allowed it) and would meet me in Philadelphia. I spent a sleepless night, then got on a plane. I even got escorted onto the plane by the customs police, he handed the flight attendants my ticket and my passport and relinquished custody.
At first I was so scared of what they were going to do. I didn’t want to go back to Morocco, and staying in the Airport Jail for more than three days made me queasy to think about. The guards were not very nice, impatient, and obviously hated their jobs. However, once the lady gave me the option of going to the USA instead, and everyone on the outside got it coordinated, the tune changed. Not only did the police officers allow me to not go to Morocco, but they allowed them to bring me my luggage and check it in for me, they allowed me to hand carry my backpack they’d prepared with my laptop for me, and they even were super nice when they made sure I had sheets for my bed, and the nice man came to wake me up quietly to go in the morning. They even escorted me right onto the plane and I got to ride in the back end of the paddy wagon on the airport tarmac. =) One of my escorts to the plane said that he thought it was ridiculous that they were deporting an American citizen and that it had never happened before. He asked if I had done it before…like maybe it was my third time of defying the law and they finally got me. I said it was my first time in Spain. Then I told him I was a Christian Missionary and he said, “Ay! A la encima!” which kind of means something like the peak or the top or we might say “To top it all off!” They handed my passport to the flight attendant and the captain was right there and they both looked at it, realized it was a deportation, and said, “What??!!”
I’m not sure whether it’s right or wrong to offer special circumstances or special treatment just because I’m an America citizen. I don’t think it somehow makes me better or more deserving of anything that anyone else. I will admit, however, that it felt nice. There’s a respect there. Even with all the controversy and war in the world today, I felt proud of my little passport that said The United States of America on the front. The captain of the plane, British Airways, even said, “Don’t worry. You’re with us now.”
I had a hard time praying while in the little jail, but I knew that Coralie had gotten the word out. I knew there were people all over Spain, the WEC team in America, and my family and church were praying enough for me. I felt a little angry at the start because it was just so unbelievable that this was happening. I was stressed while waiting to figure out what would happen. However, I know without a doubt it was by God’s almighty grace and power that I was able to laugh a little, learn an Arabic dance from one of the girls in my room, and talk to people on the phone to say goodbye. My cell phone staying operational all day despite the fact it registered no battery...it was a miracle. I don’t know why God chose 6 months instead of our planned 8 months in Spain. I don’t know why my extraction had to be so dramatic and yes, traumatic. We definitely know that there’s got to be some great significance to it in God’s plan because of the absolute rarity of it. People walk into Spain illegally every day…why did they send me home? People were praying all over the world for my release…yet, God didn’t answer that. Instead He answered those prayers by allowing the logistics to work out in my favor. I don’t, in any way, feel like I was robbed of any time in Spain or that my time there was a failure. The things God has taught me, the things I was able to do and see and be a part of, the friendships I was able to build…they are all good and complete and I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything more. I know my tears now are half the way I had to leave Spain and not getting to hug people and say a proper goodbye to all those amazing people, and half are for the fact that I get to be home. The thought of being on American soil again makes me want to sing.
I write all this out so that I don’t have to go through the entire story to every person when I get home. I don’t want this exciting tale of how I left Spain to overshadow the amazing 6 months I spent there. The way God is working there and the ways I’ve grown through it. I’d much rather spend my time at home again talking about those things!!
See you soon!
(I began typing this out on Sunday en route) I am currently in London’s Heathrow airport awaiting a flight to the good old USA. I arrived at the Madrid airport on my flight from Casablanca, Morocco on Friday afternoon and the lady at the passport control desk saw my date of arrival in Spain and my date of departure two days earlier and noticed the difference of 6 months. She said, “This can’t be!” The law states that you can enter Spain on a tourist visa for a maximum of three months within a six month period. The fact that I had been in Spain for more than three months caused quite a problem. Coralie and Esther had made it through customs fine (A Spain resident and a resident of the European Union) and were waiting for me when I had to tell them that she noticed the 3 month problem and that I had to go sit to the side. Coralie told me not to cry and that it’ll be okay. I cried. I was terrified of what they were going to do to me! The not-nice lady had kept my passport and I was sitting shamed on the sidelines. I wasn’t alone, and pretty soon a security guard came and moved a group of us to another room. He called my name and explained the law, I explained my situation (I was working as a volunteer, I wasn’t earning money, I wasn’t seeking residency, all my money was from the States, I already had a return flight booked for April…), he shook his head in bewilderment and sent me to sit down again. Pretty soon the group of us were moved upstairs. He called me over again, I explained my situation again to another woman, she shook her head in bewilderment and sent me away again. We went upstairs to the “sala” where they patted me down, took all my baggage and sifted through it, kept the electronic stuff and toiletry stuff, and sent me into the waiting room with everyone else. They allowed me to keep my cell phone because it doesn’t take photos. This turned out to be a great blessing to have the communication with the outside. The cell battery was on near empty and registered empty for all of Saturday, but it continued to work all day long (Thank you Jesus). Me and about 75 other “illegals” trying to enter Spain were in this holding room. Luckily they fed us and sent us to bed. The food, I imagine, was a horrible cross between airplane food and jail food (what do you expect from Airport Jail?). The beds were Ikea issued bunkbeds and no one told me we could ask for sheets, so the bare mattress and a blanket that probably 1000 other people have used in the last month and sleep. I’d been on and off the phone with the faithful WECcers who were doing everything in their power to get me out. Alex and Maribel and Steve and Coralie and Esther in their brilliant Spanish minds and knowledge of the system and extensive work with immigrants, went down to the airport to coax them into letting me go. Apparently there was quite a group outside fighting for my release. Yet, I stayed and waited. They said we’d have interviews the next day. About 10:30am the next morning they called my name to go have an interview with a lawyer and a customs officer. After sitting another 3 hours they finally got to me. (Did I mention my desperate need to use the bathroom and the nice officer lady told me I had to wait because she hadn’t had the chance to go either!). The officer and lawyer explained to me the law again and I understood. They said by law they have to send me back from where I came, which would be Morocco, but because of the impressive nature of the American Passport they said they’d break the rules and let me return to the States instead. If I could secure and show proof of a plane ticket to America before my scheduled 8:45pm flight to Casablanca, I could go. And the flight itself had to be for today or tomorrow. I frantically got a hold of Steve and let him know that they needed to call WEC and have them change my plane ticket for a flight for Saturday or Sunday, have the boarding pass presented to the customs officials, and if possible, get someone into my room in Alcala to pack up all my things. It was now 2:30pm and we had until my 8:45 flight to arrange all of this (but really only until 5:30 when the officer lady in charge was going to go home for the day). I was in one of those positions where I couldn’t do anything but sit and wait and trust that everyone else was doing everything they could. WEC USA was on the ball getting my ticket, Maribel and all the other ladies in the residence were sifting through my things and throwing them in my suitcases, and Steve and Coralie were coordinating it all and communicating with me. I was a wreck! About 5pm I talked to Steve and he said he had my plane ticket, was on his way to get my bags and then would bring them all to the airport. Phew! Tonda in the WEC USA office had gotten my ticket straightened out in just over an hour! They had procured a 7am flight to the USA, my bags were securely checked (after they had initially said I could get my bags, then the other lady said absolutely no baggage could be brought, then they finally allowed it) and would meet me in Philadelphia. I spent a sleepless night, then got on a plane. I even got escorted onto the plane by the customs police, he handed the flight attendants my ticket and my passport and relinquished custody.
At first I was so scared of what they were going to do. I didn’t want to go back to Morocco, and staying in the Airport Jail for more than three days made me queasy to think about. The guards were not very nice, impatient, and obviously hated their jobs. However, once the lady gave me the option of going to the USA instead, and everyone on the outside got it coordinated, the tune changed. Not only did the police officers allow me to not go to Morocco, but they allowed them to bring me my luggage and check it in for me, they allowed me to hand carry my backpack they’d prepared with my laptop for me, and they even were super nice when they made sure I had sheets for my bed, and the nice man came to wake me up quietly to go in the morning. They even escorted me right onto the plane and I got to ride in the back end of the paddy wagon on the airport tarmac. =) One of my escorts to the plane said that he thought it was ridiculous that they were deporting an American citizen and that it had never happened before. He asked if I had done it before…like maybe it was my third time of defying the law and they finally got me. I said it was my first time in Spain. Then I told him I was a Christian Missionary and he said, “Ay! A la encima!” which kind of means something like the peak or the top or we might say “To top it all off!” They handed my passport to the flight attendant and the captain was right there and they both looked at it, realized it was a deportation, and said, “What??!!”
I’m not sure whether it’s right or wrong to offer special circumstances or special treatment just because I’m an America citizen. I don’t think it somehow makes me better or more deserving of anything that anyone else. I will admit, however, that it felt nice. There’s a respect there. Even with all the controversy and war in the world today, I felt proud of my little passport that said The United States of America on the front. The captain of the plane, British Airways, even said, “Don’t worry. You’re with us now.”
I had a hard time praying while in the little jail, but I knew that Coralie had gotten the word out. I knew there were people all over Spain, the WEC team in America, and my family and church were praying enough for me. I felt a little angry at the start because it was just so unbelievable that this was happening. I was stressed while waiting to figure out what would happen. However, I know without a doubt it was by God’s almighty grace and power that I was able to laugh a little, learn an Arabic dance from one of the girls in my room, and talk to people on the phone to say goodbye. My cell phone staying operational all day despite the fact it registered no battery...it was a miracle. I don’t know why God chose 6 months instead of our planned 8 months in Spain. I don’t know why my extraction had to be so dramatic and yes, traumatic. We definitely know that there’s got to be some great significance to it in God’s plan because of the absolute rarity of it. People walk into Spain illegally every day…why did they send me home? People were praying all over the world for my release…yet, God didn’t answer that. Instead He answered those prayers by allowing the logistics to work out in my favor. I don’t, in any way, feel like I was robbed of any time in Spain or that my time there was a failure. The things God has taught me, the things I was able to do and see and be a part of, the friendships I was able to build…they are all good and complete and I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything more. I know my tears now are half the way I had to leave Spain and not getting to hug people and say a proper goodbye to all those amazing people, and half are for the fact that I get to be home. The thought of being on American soil again makes me want to sing.
I write all this out so that I don’t have to go through the entire story to every person when I get home. I don’t want this exciting tale of how I left Spain to overshadow the amazing 6 months I spent there. The way God is working there and the ways I’ve grown through it. I’d much rather spend my time at home again talking about those things!!
See you soon!
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Pais Vasco, ETA, and prayer groups
I'm headed out tomorrow on a plane to San Sebastian. It lies right on the north coast of Spain as a part of Pais Vasco, the infamous Basque region of Spain. Their language, Basque, is unique amongst the languages of the world. It's not descendant of any Indo-European languages and has small similarities to Asian languages more so than any Germanic languages. Coralie said it's sometimes called "Adam's language" because it's most likely one of the oldest languages in the world.
WEC has some church planting efforts going on in the region. They are a faithful team that has very hard work in front of them. God has already been faithful to their efforts and they are seeing interested among their neighbors and have an informal group that meets. Ultimately, that emptiness people feel in their lives can be filled with God, and because of how he made us, we're drawn to hear about Him. That's why sending out these workers is so important! Someone has to be there to tell them when they are ready to hear!
Unfortunately, the region is plagued with some unrest as the ETA terrorist group continues to fight for their independence. Read a little bit about them: HERE.
I'll be staying with Linette (in the picture above), a bright beautiful God-loving gal. She's tons of fun, and since her first language is Spanish, I'm looking forward to having a weekend of Spanish.
Pray for their small team and their ministry in Pais Vasco, and also pray for my flights! It's only about a 45 minute flight, so I'm excited! I also have to get myself to the airport and back by public transport which I'm not 100% sure on how to do, so we'll see what happens!!
P.S. Happy Birthday, Coralie!!
Monday, February 18, 2008
Prayer Day Success!
All went as planned, we prayed and heard a great deal about the history of the church we were visiting. Good stuff. I have no other comments. I love how the group here focuses on prayer first...such great teamwork too.
We worked all day long today at the locale finishing painting the exterior, cooking and cleaning up lunch. Esther and I did all of that while the others were having their very important Field Committee meeting. =)
We worked all day long today at the locale finishing painting the exterior, cooking and cleaning up lunch. Esther and I did all of that while the others were having their very important Field Committee meeting. =)
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Survivor: Espana
We've been having some issues in the houses the last few weeks. The cleaning isn't getting done, dirty plates left all over the kitchen, light bulbs burned out that no one wants to replace, people coming in at 1 or 2 in the morning and pounding down the hallway in high heels, the internet is temperamental, 18 people are using our kitchen, and on and on and on. Sufrimos mucho! Well, we had a bit of a conversation today about all of this and our conclusion pretty much was that we know no solutions. We know the problems, and we know the focus of the ministry is to help people who have just arrived in Spain to begin to build a life, and we know that everyone is from different backgrounds and cultures and different ways of doing things. We definitely agreed that we need to have respect and think about other people and we need to remember that it's God's will that this house serve it's purpose for the ministry.
Alex said, "Well, we'll see how it goes for another month and we'll talk to people when they do something that's not good, and after a month, we'll...."
and he paused and didn't really finish his sentence but in my head I was thinking..."we vote someone off the island!!" We figure out who's the source of most of the problems, and we nominate them to leave. I had this great image in my head of them packing their bags and Alex snuffing out their torch and saying it's time for them to go.
This makes me laugh. Alot. We send them packing...they couldn't hack it in Espana. They didn't outwit, outplay, and outlast!
Community living. What an experience.
Alex said, "Well, we'll see how it goes for another month and we'll talk to people when they do something that's not good, and after a month, we'll...."
and he paused and didn't really finish his sentence but in my head I was thinking..."we vote someone off the island!!" We figure out who's the source of most of the problems, and we nominate them to leave. I had this great image in my head of them packing their bags and Alex snuffing out their torch and saying it's time for them to go.
This makes me laugh. Alot. We send them packing...they couldn't hack it in Espana. They didn't outwit, outplay, and outlast!
Community living. What an experience.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Prayer Day in Talavera
We're loading up in the hippie van tomorrow at 9am to travel about an hour or two to Talavera de la Reina to have prayer day at the church of one of the Weccers. I'm excited!! I get in these places where the number of things to pray for and the needs around me pile up to where prayer seems such a daunting task! If I truly talked to God about all the things I want to and need to, it would require all day every day. It seems too much. So I've made a huge long list of things to pray for tomorrow and I'm looking forward to doing it. Talking to God about these things and bringing them to Him. Marriages that are having trouble, families torn apart because of the decision to follow Him, futures and plans and ministry ideas that tons of people have that just want to see God do amazing things, new relationships and old friendships, and basic needs people have in their lives, people that need Jesus (yes, Britney Spears is on my list). Woot!
In the meantime:
Real Madrid beat Valladolid on Sunday 7-0. The game was fun and loud and anytime there's 80,000 people yelling and watching some of the best soccer players in the world play you're going to have a good time!
Notice the lack of seats behind us, we were at the very top!
In the meantime:
Real Madrid beat Valladolid on Sunday 7-0. The game was fun and loud and anytime there's 80,000 people yelling and watching some of the best soccer players in the world play you're going to have a good time!
Notice the lack of seats behind us, we were at the very top!
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Betel Weekend
3 days and 3 nights gave me a tiny taste of what it’s like inside the Betel ministry. In a lot of ways it was what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t all sunshine and daisies the way I thought. It’s a hard environment. It involves hard work and long hours with little privacy or time to yourself.
Did you read up on what Betel was from the website? It’s a ministry that began many years ago in a neighborhood in Madrid known for having a high population of drug addicts. The first missionaries had a heart to minister to them. They started having bible studies with some of them. Some of them go to know Jesus! Then in an attempt to continue walking alongside each other and helping each other get over their addictions in the name of Jesus, those first few converts developed into a community where they lived together and worked together. It caught on and more and more people came to get help and it just grew from there! Now, the ministry is worldwide with Betel offices/residences in 16 countries. There are hundreds of people in the program over all of Spain alone. I got the pleasure of living in the girls’ residence for the weekend. 16 girls overcoming addictions to cocaine, heroine, nicotine, smoked, injected, living on the streets and in caves, stealing to get money to pay for the drugs. They have scars to prove it all. They were also some of the sweetest women, very welcoming and encouraging. Such hard workers!
When I first arrived on Thursday morning, they put me right to work. I helped Judy (a missionary from New Zealand) clean all the bathrooms at the Betel Church (Iglesia Betel). 6 bathrooms, including toilets, sinks, trash, sweep, mop. My arm was sore the next day from all the scrubbing! Then we ate lunch in the cafeteria. Then after lunch I was put on kitchen crew. Clean all the pots and pans, sweep and mop! I got to work alongside some of the girls and chat with them a bit. Some that have only been in the house for 2 months still have a really strong mental game they play. They want the drugs. They remember fondly their life on the street and their friends. They suffer from muscle cramps. Yet, they stay. They work because they know ultimately it’s the best option. So after we cleaned, we waited for the van to come get us. The van carried us back to the residence (about an hour drive from the church). Immediately it was shower time (every girl must take a shower every day and she must take a shower only during this allotted time). Showers were followed by dinner, then devotions, then in bed with lights out. All the girls are required to be at each item on the daily schedule and they are required to be on time.
Day two: Lights on at 7am, breakfast at 7:15am, devotions at 7:30am, in the van to go to work at 8am. If you’re late to breakfast you don’t eat! I was assigned to do publicity with a girl named Christina (she’s been in the house about 6 months I think). We walked around the community of Coslada/San Fernando for 3 hours putting a Betel flier into every mailbox within sight. Betel supports itself and employs the people they help by having these businesses all over. They have a roast chicken restaurant, a coffee bar, and second hand stores, plus groups can be hired to do maintenance or cleaning jobs. So our fliers were advertising for the stores (“We come pick up the old stuff you don’t want anymore!” And on the back it said “We sell this stuff we just picked up!) Then lunch, then back to the streets doing publicity. This time I was with Anastasia (20 yr old Russian girl with a 1 year old son who has only been in the house getting help for 2 months). I was told she wasn’t allowed to be by herself ever! So we passed out the fliers for another hour and a half. We chatted about why she came here, the decision to get clean in order to help her son more, how much she misses her mom in Russia, the other Russian guys she knows in Betel. Then we went back, got in the van, went to the Friday night church service. Then home, showers, dinner, in bed, lights out (by now it was like 11:30pm).
Day three: I was on the schedule to stay in the house for the day. Breakfast, devotions, then they packed the vans to go to work. We stayed behind and cleaned the bedrooms, living rooms, bathrooms, did the laundry, cooked lunch and made sure it was all ready for the girls when they came home for lunch. My favorite part of Saturday was in the afternoon when we were waiting for them all to get back, we sat in the lawn chairs out in the sunshine (it was probably about 65 degrees) and ate sunflower seeds and talked together. Me, Judy, a former addict and her daughter who are now helping out the ministry, and about 4 other girls plus one addict who just entered the house on Thursday. She was still withdrawing pretty badly so we had to keep an eye on her for medical reasons. She slept and ate for the whole time I was there. She had a really mean looking face and I’m not sure if she’ll last long in the house or not. Anyway, we just sat there in the sun and it was nice. Then the girls got there, we unloaded the vans, ate lunch, cleaned up, took a siesta, then it was kind of free time. Then showers, dinner, in bed, lights out.
Day 4 was Sunday! Church! Lights on at 8am. Breakfast whenever you’re ready. One van left at 9am, the other left at 10am. Church at 11:30. Then Steve and Coralie came to retrieve me and I was so happy to see friendly faces that I knew!! The service was good. They sing a song that says “We dance because we can’t fly”. The church is full of people who have been through the Betel program, survived, are now clean from drugs and are contributing members of society. They have families and blessings beyond measure and they come together at this church to celebrate with each other the victory they’ve had over their past life because of the change Jesus made. This includes most of the pastors and people who lead the music, etc.
So. Overall impressions: The food is horrible. The work is hard. The schedule is exhausting. However, the will is strong and the hope is high. I have a lot of respect for the girls struggling. They surely don’t have it easy overcoming their addictions, but they are learning how to make good choices. They are in the program learning how to replace their cocaine habit with a more constructive habit. Like working hard, and having responsibility, and encouraging the other girls. I think the most impressive thing about Betel is that they do zero counseling. It’s all based on peer mentoring. The girls that have been in the house for a long time take the new girls under their wings and teach them about what life is like in the house, what the schedule is, what is expected of them. How to do the chores. They pray for each other and tell each other about how having faith in the Lord Jesus Christ is what has given them the strength to move past their addiction. The “missionaries” and “pastors” in the houses do a small amount of that compared to what the girls do for each other. That’s amazing!!
Judy in her bedroom (most of the rooms had 3 sets of bunkbeds)
Carmen, Anna, and Maria Jose:
The living room and the new girl Maitai asleep on the couch. We had to lift up her arm to sweep under it.
Eating sunflower seeds (pipas in Spanish) in the sun.
Anastasia and her son Dani:
Did you read up on what Betel was from the website? It’s a ministry that began many years ago in a neighborhood in Madrid known for having a high population of drug addicts. The first missionaries had a heart to minister to them. They started having bible studies with some of them. Some of them go to know Jesus! Then in an attempt to continue walking alongside each other and helping each other get over their addictions in the name of Jesus, those first few converts developed into a community where they lived together and worked together. It caught on and more and more people came to get help and it just grew from there! Now, the ministry is worldwide with Betel offices/residences in 16 countries. There are hundreds of people in the program over all of Spain alone. I got the pleasure of living in the girls’ residence for the weekend. 16 girls overcoming addictions to cocaine, heroine, nicotine, smoked, injected, living on the streets and in caves, stealing to get money to pay for the drugs. They have scars to prove it all. They were also some of the sweetest women, very welcoming and encouraging. Such hard workers!
When I first arrived on Thursday morning, they put me right to work. I helped Judy (a missionary from New Zealand) clean all the bathrooms at the Betel Church (Iglesia Betel). 6 bathrooms, including toilets, sinks, trash, sweep, mop. My arm was sore the next day from all the scrubbing! Then we ate lunch in the cafeteria. Then after lunch I was put on kitchen crew. Clean all the pots and pans, sweep and mop! I got to work alongside some of the girls and chat with them a bit. Some that have only been in the house for 2 months still have a really strong mental game they play. They want the drugs. They remember fondly their life on the street and their friends. They suffer from muscle cramps. Yet, they stay. They work because they know ultimately it’s the best option. So after we cleaned, we waited for the van to come get us. The van carried us back to the residence (about an hour drive from the church). Immediately it was shower time (every girl must take a shower every day and she must take a shower only during this allotted time). Showers were followed by dinner, then devotions, then in bed with lights out. All the girls are required to be at each item on the daily schedule and they are required to be on time.
Day two: Lights on at 7am, breakfast at 7:15am, devotions at 7:30am, in the van to go to work at 8am. If you’re late to breakfast you don’t eat! I was assigned to do publicity with a girl named Christina (she’s been in the house about 6 months I think). We walked around the community of Coslada/San Fernando for 3 hours putting a Betel flier into every mailbox within sight. Betel supports itself and employs the people they help by having these businesses all over. They have a roast chicken restaurant, a coffee bar, and second hand stores, plus groups can be hired to do maintenance or cleaning jobs. So our fliers were advertising for the stores (“We come pick up the old stuff you don’t want anymore!” And on the back it said “We sell this stuff we just picked up!) Then lunch, then back to the streets doing publicity. This time I was with Anastasia (20 yr old Russian girl with a 1 year old son who has only been in the house getting help for 2 months). I was told she wasn’t allowed to be by herself ever! So we passed out the fliers for another hour and a half. We chatted about why she came here, the decision to get clean in order to help her son more, how much she misses her mom in Russia, the other Russian guys she knows in Betel. Then we went back, got in the van, went to the Friday night church service. Then home, showers, dinner, in bed, lights out (by now it was like 11:30pm).
Day three: I was on the schedule to stay in the house for the day. Breakfast, devotions, then they packed the vans to go to work. We stayed behind and cleaned the bedrooms, living rooms, bathrooms, did the laundry, cooked lunch and made sure it was all ready for the girls when they came home for lunch. My favorite part of Saturday was in the afternoon when we were waiting for them all to get back, we sat in the lawn chairs out in the sunshine (it was probably about 65 degrees) and ate sunflower seeds and talked together. Me, Judy, a former addict and her daughter who are now helping out the ministry, and about 4 other girls plus one addict who just entered the house on Thursday. She was still withdrawing pretty badly so we had to keep an eye on her for medical reasons. She slept and ate for the whole time I was there. She had a really mean looking face and I’m not sure if she’ll last long in the house or not. Anyway, we just sat there in the sun and it was nice. Then the girls got there, we unloaded the vans, ate lunch, cleaned up, took a siesta, then it was kind of free time. Then showers, dinner, in bed, lights out.
Day 4 was Sunday! Church! Lights on at 8am. Breakfast whenever you’re ready. One van left at 9am, the other left at 10am. Church at 11:30. Then Steve and Coralie came to retrieve me and I was so happy to see friendly faces that I knew!! The service was good. They sing a song that says “We dance because we can’t fly”. The church is full of people who have been through the Betel program, survived, are now clean from drugs and are contributing members of society. They have families and blessings beyond measure and they come together at this church to celebrate with each other the victory they’ve had over their past life because of the change Jesus made. This includes most of the pastors and people who lead the music, etc.
So. Overall impressions: The food is horrible. The work is hard. The schedule is exhausting. However, the will is strong and the hope is high. I have a lot of respect for the girls struggling. They surely don’t have it easy overcoming their addictions, but they are learning how to make good choices. They are in the program learning how to replace their cocaine habit with a more constructive habit. Like working hard, and having responsibility, and encouraging the other girls. I think the most impressive thing about Betel is that they do zero counseling. It’s all based on peer mentoring. The girls that have been in the house for a long time take the new girls under their wings and teach them about what life is like in the house, what the schedule is, what is expected of them. How to do the chores. They pray for each other and tell each other about how having faith in the Lord Jesus Christ is what has given them the strength to move past their addiction. The “missionaries” and “pastors” in the houses do a small amount of that compared to what the girls do for each other. That’s amazing!!
Judy in her bedroom (most of the rooms had 3 sets of bunkbeds)
Carmen, Anna, and Maria Jose:
The living room and the new girl Maitai asleep on the couch. We had to lift up her arm to sweep under it.
Eating sunflower seeds (pipas in Spanish) in the sun.
Anastasia and her son Dani:
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