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Experiences in Chapel Hill, North Carolina

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

From the Editor: This essay was written by Henning V. at the conclusion of his one year internship in Chapel Hill.

by Henning V.

My one year of community service, organized by United Church of Chapel Hill, is almost over for me now. I have gained a lot of experiences, received a lot of impressions and a lot has happened during my year here in Chapel Hill.

But before I am really able to evaluate my community service, I have to remember why I actually decided to come here, thousands of miles away from my family, my friends and my girlfriend.

Certainly one reason was to improve my language skills. Although my English is far from being perfect, I feel more confident and more secure when I speak it. Since here in North Carolina the number of the Spanish speaking population is high, I hoped to also improve my Spanish. Due to other focuses in my projects, I wasn’t able to use my Spanish very often, but I guess I’ll have more opportunities in the future.

It also appealed to me to live in another country for a year and to get to know another culture. Unconsciously I compared both countries, Germany and the United States, to each other all the time and could find many similarities but some differences as well. Many people asked me about those differences and it was hard for me to answer, because I felt like I was seen as the German ambassador. Sometimes I had to justify things, or I was praised for something, that I wasn’t connected to at all.

Other reasons for my community service were to gain some distance from my parents, to become more independent and to see more of the world than Cologne, Germany and Europe. I think this worked out pretty well.
In total I lived with four different families with whom I had a great time. At this point I want to thank Tye and Wanda H., Jeff and Cindy K., Ernest and Eunice K. and Tim and Leslie D. and their daughter Hannah. I became friends with all of them very quickly, and it was hard to move on to the next family after three months, just when we really got to know each other. Every family had their own characteristics, habits and was special in their own way and I really enjoyed living with all four families.

Before I arrived here in Chapel Hill I hadn’t really thought about what it means to get to know so many new people and to find new friends. But now I can say, that this is probably one of the most important parts of my community service. I will go back to Germany, knowing that I have a lot of good friends on the other side of the ocean and that I will be welcomed whenever I decide to come back.

Sam H., the son of my first host parents Tye and Wanda, and I became really good friends. Without him I wouldn’t have had such a great time here in Chapel Hill and I am really grateful for our friendship.

Another really important experience was to help other people through my work at my projects. This aspect probably came too short when I still lived in Cologne, because school, friends and sport-clubs are a good excuse to stay socially inactive. My community services showed me that it isn’t necessary to spend money or work for a good thing. Sometimes it’s just about having a conversation with a homeless person, when you show him that you respect and care about this person.

Seeing how many people appreciated my work at my different projects motivated me a lot and it was great to know that I could help people with my commitment. Another good part was that I enjoyed working at all my projects and was on good terms with my co-workers.

In conclusion I can say that I had a great time here in Chapel Hill and I want to thank the whole congregation for being so opened, welcoming and friendly to me. You made it easy for me to feel comfortable and respected at United Church and I am looking forward to seeing you again!

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Remarks from Pway Doh and Paw Yeh

Thursday, June 5, 2008

From the Editor: These remarks from members of the Burmese family that we sponsor were part of our Worship service on Sunday, May 18.

Pway Doh:
First of all I thank God for sending us to America. When we arrive in America, we got a lot of freedom and we are in a place that is safe. We are very happy.

I am especially thankful to Flicka and the church for taking care of us and helping us with everything. The church help us move into the apartment, give us furniture, food, give us transportation, teach us English, and are there for us when we get sick.

Since my husband had his accident, some of you may wonder if we wish we had never come to the US. No, we are still happy to be here. Our future will still be better here. There is more opportunity for us and for our children.

I wish that God will always go with you, fulfill your needs, and bless you all.

Paw Yey:
My mother gave birth to me under a tree. Soon after that the Burmese army came to our village, killed our animals, burned our homes, and killed our people. We left for a refugee camp where I lived for 23 years and 6 months. I went through horrible stuff there. But because of God, we got to America.

We were very thankful to God when we came to US on June 11, 2007. But we had no sponsor. Two people from the resettlement agency met us at the airport, took us to the apartment, and then left. For two days we lived there but did not know what to do-how to use electricity; how to cook; how to use the apartment-nothing. Then we met another Karen family in our apt complex who told us about our apartment.

Since we had no sponsor we worried how we were going to live. My parents and brother were on the approved list to leave the refugee camp and come to Chapel Hill. They changed their minds and decided to stay there when they heard how bad it was for us here without a sponsor. Star Thi and I prayed to God to open a door to help us through these problems. God answered by sending us Flicka —who then brought us Louise. They came so loving to us and help with everything.

Then Star Thi got bad news about the brain tumor. If he didn’t have surgery, he could not see and would be blind. We were very sad and also very afraid of the surgery. Then Flicka gave us hope and made us strong about the surgery. She brought us someone who had already had the surgery and who told us about how it was for him. She told us that everybody in the church pray for us. Not only do they pray for us but they give us money to cover our rent when Star Thi cannot work. We are so thankful for everyone in the church who is helping us and who gave to us. Without you, we could not live.

Jesus said, “Inasmuch as you have done it unto the least of these my brethren, you have done it to unto me.”

Thank you so much. God go with you and bless you and your church.

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Let Jesus in the Boat?

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

From the Editor: This is an excerpt, copied with permission, from the spiritual memoir, “Dancing Naked Under the Moon, Uncovering the Wisdom Within,” by Mary Bea Sullivan. Copies of the book are available at www.marybeasullivan.com.

Malcolm pulled the car into a parking space far away from the entrance to the United Church of Chapel Hill. The spot was the closest one available. We held hands walking through the parking lot. I read the bumper stickers along the way, “Peace is patriotic,” and “To believe is to care, to care is to do.” After years of meeting interesting people who belonged to this church, I finally decided to visit.

The sunlit sanctuary was contemporary, yet the pews and the massive, glowing, light-colored wood cross added warmth. Seating was theater style; each row was slightly higher than the one before. Most inviting was the large bank of clear windows overlooking woods and a walking path.

Listening to the pianist while waiting for the service to begin, I felt comfortable. Seated around us in the pews were people whose diversity reflected the Chapel Hill community. There were men in tweeds and women in flowing “earth mother” skirts or Doncaster suits. Some teen girls were in dresses, others in baggy jeans. I noticed that if we attended here, Brendan and Kiki could worship in a place where traditional families joined families with two moms, step-moms, or no moms. Yin and yang were interwoven in co-pastors Richard and Jill Edens. Since Malcolm had been a United Church of Christ minister in Connecticut, this style of worship was familiar for him.

It had been nearly two years since Lama Norlha said, “You were raised a Christian; perhaps it is time you should go home,” and I still hadn’t found a spiritual community. Even though Divine Presence had always been a part of my world, my awareness of it expanded in this new life. I was confident of the connection, but still felt frustratingly confused about how to define the relationship.

We continued to visit UCCH whenever we were in Chapel Hill. After a few visits alone and some with Malcolm, I decided to include Brendan and Kiki. At first they resisted. They were normal pre-teens and we had been out of the church routine for a few years. Each week there were more familiar faces to greet me, but I wanted to take time before joining.

On a rare kid-free, Malcolm-less Sunday, I slipped into a pew halfway down the sanctuary. Leaning against the hard, unforgiving wood, a wave of exhaustion moved through my body. Absently, I touched my right hand to my left breast, acknowledging a dull pain in my heart.

Staring at the cross hanging behind the altar, I wondered whether I had over-extended myself again. Contrary to my initial understanding, I was now required to travel frequently for my job. Between travel for work and romance, my green suitcase constantly remained in my bedroom on “high alert.” My cell phone bills were so high that Verizon could have named a tower in my honor. When I was in North Carolina I would spend hours on the phone with Malcolm in Alabama. When I was in Alabama, I would call home to catch up with Brendan and Kiki. When I was traveling for work, I called them all. I was leaving fragments of myself all over the Southeast, pieces of broken glass.

Tilting my head back, I felt the warmth from the sun wash over me as clouds gave way outside and the sun broke free, extending her fingers through the sanctuary’s long, rectangular windows. As the light danced around the church, waving her wand of illumination pew by pew, I reflected on recent disturbing conversations with my boss. I had allowed myself to be intimidated and the stress was taking its toll. My stomach was constantly in knots-literally. The pain was so great I was scheduled for a colonoscopy and endoscopy the next week. Worst of all, I no longer trusted my boss or believed the company could succeed under his leadership. I was being asked to say and do things that felt dishonest, yet I was afraid to speak my mind. Staring out the window, I wondered, how am I going to keep paying my bills, caring for my family, and maintain my integrity at the same time?

An audible sigh escaped from my lips as I turned my thoughts from work to Kiki. She still seemed unhappy in our new home. I was concerned that she was spiraling into a dark, sad place. Overwhelmed, my mind was racing with these disturbing thoughts. I sat in the pew visibly agitated, fidgeting with my skirt and the bulletin, crossing and uncrossing my legs. Eventually I settled in and looked up at the front of the church and listened to the young woman reading scripture.

When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going.
-John 6:16-21 NRSV Bible

I had heard this passage many times before. This time, I felt out of control and afraid. Unable to maintain my normal level of decorum, I began to sob. The young woman read the second reading.

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love.
-Ephesians 3:14-17

I tried to stifle my sobs so that I wouldn’t disturb the other worshipers - people I barely knew. I cast my eyes downward hoping that no one would see the unceasing flow of tears.

I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
-Ephesians 3:18-19

I could not for the life of me figure out what had hit me so hard. Tasting the salt of my unnamed grief, I felt an unbearably powerful desire to leave. I fumbled in my purse and found a tissue to blow my nose. The reading continued.

Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.
-Ephesians 3:20-21

Although every muscle in my body twitched as if ready dash out of the church, I stayed. I was being pulled, as if by an invisible magnet, down into the pew. I stayed because the part of me that is stronger than my impulses, wiser than my thoughts, wouldn’t let me leave. I knew there was more. I knew I needed to hear Richard’s sermon.
(Continued)

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Transformation Story

Monday, March 3, 2008

From the Editor: this is from our Lenten Transformation Stories series

By Dianne L.

2001 was a black year for us. In June, Jim sustained a spinal cord injury that was to keep him paralyzed from the neck down for a month and in the hospital for two months. We were told he would probably be able to walk with braces, and had a 50% chance of regaining use of his arms. Both sets of parents came to stay with the kids so I could continue to work and be with Jim. I took a job offer with more secure money leaving the job I had been in for nine years. Meanwhile, my father was in the last stages of his prostate cancer. He pushed himself to give our kids a normal summer–the lake house, and then, with difficulty at the end of August to Rebecca’s 7th birthday party. He went into the hospital two days after 9/11 and died in hospice care September 24. Jim took off his neck brace for the first time in almost 5 months to attend his funeral.

By October I knew my immediate family was going to survive our ordeal, but realized that I needed something bigger than myself or my family to help me through the aftershocks. I had avoided church for many years after being disillusioned at the difference between what was preached and practiced. Earlier in the year an acquaintance had told me if I ever felt like I could enter another church, I should try hers–it was different. So in October I came and sat in the back pew of UCCH and tried to be invisible. It worked for one week. The next week, one person introduced themselves. The third week, two more.. The fourth week, I had the courage to write my name and number in the pewbook. That week, you made a follow up call to me. By Christmas, I brought the girls to services. The girls iced cookies and were treated like long time members. At some point, someone introduced himself and said “I need another usher–you look like someone who could do that.” By the end of spring, the girls were coming with me regularly and beginning their belated journeys into a life with a church.

That was almost 7 years ago. Since that time, the church has grown in numbers and size. And as much as my story sounds like it’s about my family’s bad year, I tell it to remind myself of the healing power of one voice to another person. To remind myself to make the effort to recognize new faces and be inclusive. Because you may never know the difference a sentence can make–this church is different, someone said. Or that an introduction can make someone vulnerable feel included. That a phone call from a pastor can make someone decide to keep coming. That an invitation to give something back allows someone to become whole. And as our building and congregation continues to grow, I offer this story and invite us all to remember, and use, the power of one voice.

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Transformation Story

Friday, February 29, 2008

From the Editor: this is from our Lenten Transformation Stories series

By Carol C.

It was August 1974. I was a single mom, living in Chicago. My three children were 8, 10 and 13. We had driven 500 miles from Chicago to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to visit my parents and were on our way home.

We had just gotten onto the Ohio Turnpike when a red light appeared on the dashboard. At the next service plaza, I pulled off to have a mechanic see what the problem was. I had taken an auto mechanics class at Adult Ed, not so much because I had plans to tune up my car, but I wanted to have some notion of what was there beneath the hood of the car. One of the things we had been advised in the class was that if we were in an emergency situation, pay close attention to the mechanic, because they could sometimes be less than scrupulous.

So I stood there by the engine watching the mechanic while my kids went in for a snack. I was joined by a truck driver who seemed to be interested in what was going on with my car. As the mechanic finished up and was about to close the hood, I said, “Don’t you want to replace the distributor cap?” The truck driver commented that if I hadn’t said anything about it, he would have because he noticed it too. He said he would follow me for a few miles to make certain everything was OK, if I didn’t mind.

He followed me for about 50 miles and when he was probably assured everything was alright, he beeped his horn and passed by.

He had just disappeared from sight when liquid spewed all over the windshield. I pulled off onto the shoulder, opened the hood and peered inside, where I noticed there was a gash in one of the hoses. I had no idea what to do about that! We were there just a few minutes when a young man pulled up to assist. He was on his way to a spelunkers gathering in Iowa, and he knew what to do. He gave my older son a large plastic container and sent him off to a farm house for water. He took out a knife and began cutting away at the hoses. “You won’t be needing your heater for awhile,” he said, as he cut the hoses here and there, clamping and re-directing them. “This should be good enough for you to get home.”

As he was working, a state patrol car came in the opposite direction, made a U-turn and pulled up in front of us. Out of the patrol car stepped the truck driver. “I got over the brow of the hill and didn’t see you behind me, so I was concerned and decided to check things out. This time I think I’ll follow you for a longer stretch of road.”

And so he did. We shared a meal somewhere along the highway. He followed me across the 230 miles or so of the Ohio Turnpike. He followed me across the 150 or so miles of the Indiana Toll Road, until the Chicago Skyway cuts off and I-80 continues west. There are times when it is very reassuring to have an 18-wheeler riding on your tail in a non-intimidating way.

My husband Andy and I have discussed this event. He raised the question of whether this was the result of the kindness of strangers or whether it was a random act of kindness. Did these gentlemen act as a one-time gesture or was it part of the fabric of their lives? I won’t ever know the answer to that question, but I know remember their acts of kindness that day in 1974 as if it happened yesterday.

God is good.

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