Service Adventure - J O H N S T O W N

I am sitting at the computer at my house in Harrisonburg, thinking back to week ago and it doesn't feel real. On one hand, it feels as though I never left. My dear, devoted friends still come over and swim and the pool or drink tea with me. We still talk about Touring Choir and EMHS. I still go to church and the unchanging faces of adults from my childhood are still faithfully in the pews (though actually its chairs  now because of the construction). When I go over to the Myer's house, we still watch British period dramas as if there was nothing new to talk about. My family is still here, still bantering, still being obsessively organized and still loving. It's as if I never left. But, in a way, I feel as though I never left Johnstown. I still marvel at this house that isn't falling apart (and though I thought I'd never miss the rotted flooring, I do almost). My dear unit family still comes to my mind so often and so much of what I see I wish I could laugh about wit

The year here in Johnstown is spinning fast to a close as spring speeds up our days with weekend trips, evenings at friends' houses, guests blowing in and out of our house, and the rushing toward the end a bit faster every day. New Day ends this week, our Sundays at church are limited, host family nights are well counted and summer plans intent on splintering our now family are hardening quickly.  More and more frequently, as we approach our end, we've looked over our shoulders at the last nine months and laughed at our comically awkward first activities together, the painfully silent car rides and our unbelievable first impressions finally revealed. We laugh now at the time when we were such curious strangers because now we're such a curious family. Like a family, we now know each other's tastes in food or fashion, we share pillows and shower times (mostly without complaining...), we tease each other relentlessly, we ask each other every day, "How was your work?

Through MMN connections I was asked to write for another blog about simplicity. Of course simplicity is a big focus of Service Adventure, but the money saving, environment loving, and minimizing practices of this year weren't what I had been thinking about. Lately through my readings of Richard Foster and through exploring other disciplines, I've found that an attitude of simplicity spans much more than our material possessions. What I've written doesn't cover the concept quite well enough in my opinion, but it is shorter than usual :). READ IT In Pittsburgh for the day. From Left: Ev-man, Jonacio, Abs, Learrr, Eva-potata, Me, and good 'ol KR

The sun steps out from behind the clouds to paint all of Kernville in a watery glow of warmth. Spring is splashing in. You can feel it on your arms and face when you step out of the dim house. Green seeps up through the brown grass. An airplane cuts a ripple high in the sky, and small birds trickling from the trees clip the air with their short songs. On days like this, we just can't keep the New Day kids inside; it would be an injustice never mind the fact that we also would rather be playing tag on the playground rather than pushing kids through homework or through a difficult Bible lesson. So we go to the park. Somehow on these hopeful, pleasant days, however, the most unpleasant quarrels come up between the kids. Someone gets pushed. Someone doesn't want to be "it". Someone gets called names. And finally, someone has had enough. On these days, we five SAs feel all the more (if that is possible) our inexperience as we struggle to address all the wrong between t

Snow covers the ground in arctic, white dunes. A cold river of drafting air cuts a path across the living room floor. You have to wear socks if you want to do anything downstairs. At night, cold gropes around your shoulders. Johnstown in winter refuses to leave without proving that is everything it is famed to be. Of course, we put on our snow boots and continue on. The kids at New Day test our capabilities every day (wait? we have capabilities...?), and we come home tired and full of frustration to vent to Leah and Krista over supper. Though we've been here for months, things still aren't easy. I am still awkward at social events grasping at names I should remember by now. We're almost unbearably busy. Sometimes it feels like we live for the slow Saturday mornings when morning work, afternoon work, bible study, host family night, weekly chores, cooking duty, devotions, learning components (that went until 11:00...), worship components, reading assignments and grocery shopp

I left off writing last with an armful of heavy questions that came out of my year-long journey to uncovering my ugly privilege. By living here away from my home, the context that I had accepted as "normal", I'm beginning to see that first off, there are many many "normals" just as there are many many people and that in reality, my "normal" is not really very normal at all. Not only have I inherited the wealth and social standing of my parents but the race of the privileged majority of my nation. These two great pillars to my privilege stand out to me, but also with them are my conventional religion, my education, my sexual orientation, and my physical ability. In all ways but my gender and leanings to pacifism, my "normal" is preferred by the greater part of society. The way ahead of me is already paved and swept by current laws, history, and established attitudes, so that I walk boldly ahead fearing little. So now what do I do? I cannot i