Hello, hello.
How are you doing, y’all? I hope you are all well.
It's already been a month since I've been participating in the Peace Intern program. Time goes very fast! After a magical week at Camp Christian, I flew to Cleveland and worked as a week-long intern at IRTF (InterReligious Task Force on Central America). To understand the life of an immigrant in the United States, who is fighting for their freedom and the right to live with their family in their homeland, I realized this land is also home to people who oppose injustice and, at the same time, love and strive for freedom here. As the kingdom of God has come, but we are still working, the matter of immigrant rights and their security is urgent, and we need to work together, in prayer and, necessarily, in action. With C, Brian and many good staff, I had a great time learning from them and knowing what solidarity means nowadays. Also, I should have mentioned Mary and Mary, who were my weekly family. I miss them! Through these lovely people, I learned that it's possible to love each other and share life willingly, even after meeting for only a few days. Totally different people met, shared their piece of life, made a meaningful moment, and shared a table together. I found out through the Peace Internship that it's not a dream, and I realized it could change people’s lives. Hope is like a mustard seed: even in a very short moment, it is deeply rooted in our hearts, and quietly it sprouts and slowly spreads before we even know; in a short moment, it becomes a great possibility that changes our thoughts, mind, and heart.
Last week, I had a good time with Camp Bedford High School staff and campers. Like the world’s uncertainty, the weather is also very hard to predict. We felt that global warming was indeed making its presence this summer. Even in the unpredictable situation, we had fun. I should have to say, Camp Bedford must be the silliest camp I've ever experienced. Those hot-dog-eating challenges, pickle-juice shots, hot-dog water popsicles, and fancy dinners with big utensils or even by hand were enough to make everybody friends. There was a lot of fun. Without any reason, we spun around ten times fast and rolled on the grass, laughing. All our differences became a lovely diversity. We welcome others and encourage all people to have fun. Also at the same time, we had a serious time, as well. Surprisingly, a week is enough time to open their heart and become vulnerable. With prayers and scripture, exploring this nature, and in the wilderness, they learned to hear others and lean on one another’s shoulders. When I see the campers’ worries slowly melt away and watch them share a piece of their own lives with someone else, that makes me feel this is where God’s Kingdom is breaking through.
The world’s uncertainty remains. So many things still worry us and push us toward existential questions we cannot fully answer. Worry, sorrow, trauma and despair are still there. However, we are here for love, for freedom, for our dear friends and family, for neighbours who can’t raise their voices, for people whose existence is erased, we are here, together.
Whatever faces us, whatever makes us worry, whatever frustrates us and sometimes makes us feel like it has broken us forever, can’t break us down yet. We are still here, slowly making our way forward, because we know we are not alone. We are not alone, even when death and dying seem to block our path, and all the tragic news discourages us. We are not alone, because the God of love has victory over death and despair forever, and hope is within us. We know we are not alone because the hope is deeply rooted in us, and once we notice that love, there is no going back. As we experience the miracle, the love, hope and faith of the goodness of God and love with neighbours, we will thrive, like a mustard seed, and work towards justice, slowly, but surely, we will reach there, like the dried bone is having muscle and flesh, eventually had breath, the kingdom of God is happening now, here, right now, within us.
