"You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things you make beautiful things out of us"
I'm officially a Houstonian. Or at least I live in
Houston and I'm learning the art that comes with this foreign tittle. Knowing
the hidden gems, how to navigate the crazy traffic and trying to soak in all
the creativity that this city's diversity has to offer. If it wasn't for
explaining the differences between Texas and Ireland to my new roommates I
think I would forgotten that I live in the same state. This city offers such
cultural richness and a unique intelligence of the arts that I am amazed and somewhat
overwhelmed by all that I have yet to learn. That's all I want to do for the
rest of my life though, learn. About cultures, fitness, books, music,
language, food, photography, religion, phycology and people. I've already
learned a tremendous amount from my community life.
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| My New House- If you are in Houston join us for a dinner anytime |
Before I explain that let me back up and explain
exactly what I am doing living in Houston. I am part of a program called GRACE
through the University of St. Thomas. This program has 3 pillars: professional
development, community, and spiritual development. I live in community
with 10 others that also teach in under resourced Catholic Schools in the
Houston area. I am working towards my master’s degree (for free) to become a
Reading Specialist and God willing will graduate in May 2015. I am beyond
excited for this program, for teaching, and getting to know these lovely people
over the next 2 years. If you are interested in teaching check out applying for
this awesome opportunity.
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| My brilliant community |
Even with all the excitement, transitions in life have always reminded
me of the feeling you get waking up in a strange room (other than the obvious
that this happens when you move). You open your eyes a bit confused, startled,
and feeling out of place before you settle into the realization that you are
where you are meant to be and overtime feel comfortable in this foreign place.
I had a moment of the frightened dreamlike state of waking the other day, and
when I need to center and unwind I run. Running in a new place also helps my
painfully handicapped sense of direction seek some orientation. Running is
also one of the easiest ways for me to pray when I’m stressed. If my body is
occupied and exhausted, my mind has time to process and breath. So that’s what
I’m doing in Montrose, running and praying and gasping in amazement at the
inspiring character of each unique house I pass when I see a pile of rubbish on
the side of the street. Broken furniture, pieces of cabinets and half empty
paint cans form a pyramid of garbage to the naked eye. Along side this garbage
is a tiny, petty bird, hobbling around on a broken foot. Pausing out of natural
instinct, drawn by compassion, I found myself watching the bird struggle to
walk past the junk alongside a tree whose leaves spotted the sidewalk like
stars in the sunlight. Maybe empathy is a better word than compassion. I
understood the bird’s position; I could see my broken self in the discarded
wood. And I was reminded yet again of Gods love. In the handicapped bird and
splintered wood I saw my brokenness. I image though from God’s eyes he knew
that the bird could still fly, and would gain strength in his wings without
dependency of his legs. The wood that one family found as obnoxious garbage, I could
see the potential to become the beautiful art that our community house
desperately needed, but the wood didn’t know that. The wood probably felt like
unwanted trash, the bird was lost and frightened at this new challenge in life,
and I also was feeling out of place, like a coal with wobbling legs. But my
father in heaven is ready to catch me when I fall, and he sees potential when I
feel discarded, and when I complain of some pain or hardship he loving looks on
his children and sees the strength, courage, character and faith that will
remain when the pain passes.
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| Before |
It’s amazing what some trash and a broken bird can teach you.
Fittingly the next night I
went with my cohort, which consists of three Irish kids, a Cali boy and
southern bell from Virginia and went dumpster diving to rescue the wood.
The finished products are
below. The bird was gone. I’m sure because it had gained the confidence to fly. There are to many indications of God’s hand guiding me to
the GRACE program. So I'm learning to trust I’m where I am meant to be while learning to fly.
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| This will eventually grace our courtyard created by the lovely Emily Engelking |
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