Humble, Texas

We passed through Humble, Texas, on our way back from the prison we visited. Humble. (Though the town was pronounced "umble.") That's one way to describe our visit with the incarcerated women on the Find Your Way Home prison tour. (I blogged about this a lot a couple weeks ago, but if you're just tuning in, here's the back story.) Humble-ing, rather. It's a very strange, humbling feeling to realize that people who have been condemned and locked up are really not that different from you... and yet at the same time, you realize they inhabit a totally different world.

I know I'm a judgmental person and way too reliant on stereotypes, but it really surprised me to meet inmates who looked like they could have been my college classmates or my mother's friends. I spoke with one woman who looked a lot like this actress, and had beautiful green eyes. She and her equally "normal" looking friend both teared up as they told me how one mistake steered their lives off course. (I've heard that one should not ask an inmate about his or her crime, so I did not, but these two women volunteered "prescription fraud" and "drunk driving," which I assume meant manslaughter, since I doubt a DUI sans-accident would land you in prison.) Those women told me about how glad they were to have been accepted into the "faith-based" unit in the prison, where they could take classes and do other enrichment activities. While they spoke regretfully about their crimes, they seemed actually grateful for the opportunities for self-reflection and spiritual growth their incarceration had offered.

I studied their uniforms, willing myself to remember, since I was expressly told I could take pictures of those in our group, but not of the inmates. Their shirts looked like one Matt has--a boxy, white, short-sleeved shirt. The fabric looked like some of the white twill curtains I used to have up in our bedroom. They appeared to have a choice of footwear between plain white athletic shoes and black work boots, and some of the women (the ones in a certain unit, I learned) wore a green plastic wristband like what you would get at a club, only thick and hard and fastened with metal grommets, not weak plastic. They wore no makeup, of course, but could wear their hair as they liked. Lack of hair dye, however, revealed how long some women had been there, with their brown roots grown out to the shoulders and four inches of blond on the ends.

We distributed the book by Becca Stevens and the Magdalene women, Find Your Way Home: Words from the Street, Wisdom from the Heart, as the women filed in. As each musician and speaker in our group got up to present, they directed everyone to certain pages in the book, to read a particular passage that had touched them.

Before Don started things off with "The Gambler," he read a passage in the book about those who have been in the ditch being able to help others who are in the ditch now. Don said how he told Becca, "How can I share any words of wisdom when I haven't been in the ditch myself?" and Becca reminded him that of course he had--we all have--it's just a different ditch.

I'm still trying to process that--wondering if it's true--since I don't feel like I've been in the ditch myself. Sure, I've had rough times emotionally--depression, loneliness, etc.--but overall my life has been pretty easy and good. I felt so sheltered and naive as I listened to Tara, Gwen, and Katrina, the Magdalene graduates in our group, talk about walking the streets, having sex with men because they were so desperate for another hit, being arrested for drugs and/or prostitution, and falling into a wicked spiral of despair and hopelessness as they served their time but returned to the same life, unable to escape.

This cycle of abuse (most women engaging in prostitution were molested as children), drugs to numb the pain, then prostitution to pay for the drugs is so completely foreign to my life experience. I've never even smoked a cigarette, and yet they have seen and done and been through so much. The inmates nodded along, understanding completely the situations and emotions they described.

They were moved to tears by the songs our musicians sang--"Bless the Broken Road," "When You Say Nothing at All," "Break Down Here," and more. Luisa Lopez (pictured below with Marcus) played a gorgeous song off her new album "Cigarettes and Other Dirges."  

Becca spoke to the women about hope, love, and the power of community. She told them what Magdalene was all about, and how they could get information and apply to join the recovery community when they got out. She reminded them that they have community there in prison and that they shouldn't squander that, but rather love one another and encourage one another so they could break the cycle when they got out of prison and have a whole, healthy life.

The musicians closed with gospel hymn "I'll Fly Away," and we all had a chance to talk and mingle more before the women were dismissed. I think the women were really uplifted by our visit, and I know I personally felt honored--humbled--to meet them, hear their stories, and offer a word of hope and love. Hope may be in short supply in prison, but they had plenty of love to give us. People talk about "bringing God" to the prison (or another country, or some other place), but I guarantee you, God is already there.

Project Life (July 5-July 12)

Having been on vacation last week (plus an extra day or two off for the Fourth of July holiday), I had just four days in the office before heading out of town again. So, July is almost halfway over and it has been an absolute whirlwind so far. Here's a snapshot (well, eight) of this past week:

Monday 7/5: Granna's big birthday party! (We won't mention her exact age, but it was an exciting one!) My father-in-law (Opa) threw her a lovely celebratory dinner at Mere Bulles. I was very excited about our gift to her--a silver necklace from The Vintage Pearl. We got her a heart-and-pearl charm stamped "Granna," and then an extra little charm with a "k" on it, for Kate. We plan to add more initial charms as Granna gets more grandchildren! (sorry for the shoddy photoediting to show the closeup. As I said... whirlwind... no time to breathe.)

Tuesday 7/6: Back to the old grind. Daddy was happy for a nice ordinary Daddy-Daughter Day after sharing Kate with the grandparents and me for ten days or so. Look at my sweeties holding hands! (I promise my hubby doesn't have a chili-bowl cut. He had just taken a shower, so it dried straight down.)

Wednesday 7/7: Kate had her first ever dentist appointment! I had heard we were supposed to do it at 12 months, but when I called for the appointment around that time, they couldn't get us in for five months! From the comments on this post that many other toddler-mommies weren't taking their kiddos yet, I feel better. Kate screamed bloody murder when the dentist was actually in her mouth, poking around to check for cavities or anything abnormal, but otherwise it went well. As to their advice to brush her teeth twice a day and start flossing around age 2, I thought "you obviously don't have a Kate Kelley at home." Kate likes her toothbrush, but does NOT let me do much to assist in the "brushing" and screams and clamps her mouth shut if I try. Oy. She did get a balloon and a smiley tooth bath squirtie out of the deal, though.

Thursday 7/8: I had to repair a kitchen chair cushion. Nana put together this little sewing kit for me when I went off to college, and it is still what I use when I have to sew a button back on or stitch up something (i.e. the only sewing I do). I think of her every time I use it, and it will be even more special now that she is gone. My mom made the felt needle-holder when she was a child--also special.

Friday 7/9: Oh, Kate Bear. What crazy post-pigtail bed-head! We're getting back to the nap/bedtime only paci rule, after falling off the wagon with our trips to Louisville and North Carolina in the last month. The dentist did insist that we break the paci habit by age two. She's already showing signs of overbite, but if we kick the habit by then, they should self-correct. I think we're doing okay for 17 months!

Saturday 7/10: I was up way too early for a Saturday in order to fly to Houston for my first trip with the Find Your Way Home prison tour. (if you're just visiting for Project Life, please jump to my home page to read my other posts this and last week about this awesome ministry.) After arriving, the group gathered to write encouraging notes in the books we would take into the prison on Monday.

Sunday 7/11: The Sunday part of the tour includes worship with our host church for the visit. In Houston, we were at St. John's Downtown, a predominantly African American, United Methodist congregation that is the spiritual home to people ranging from the homeless people living just outside the church to Beyonce Knowles, who worships here when she is in her hometown. It was an amazing church and I LOVED worshipping there. My summary of the trip up through Sunday night is in this post.

Monday 7/12: I'm including eight days in this week's Project Life since Monday was the grand finale of the tour stop. Monday, our group of eleven (including an episcopal priest, four musicians, three amazing women who survived lives of prostitution, addiction, and incarceration, and two other organizational "helpers" like myself) went into a women's prison to speak to and play for the women there, just to say "hi, we love you, and there is hope for a better life." It was amazing, and while I'm not going to go into more detail here, I promise there will be at least one more post this week about our prison visit. This picture shows two of our musicians, Julie Roberts and Marcus Hummon, performing for the ladies.

Check out more Project Life at The Mom Creative!

Rocking Houston

I'm here in Houston with the Find Your Way Home prison tour, and as I had been told, it is an amazing experience. Today, we were at St. John's Downtown UMC (Rudy Rasmus' church, for those familiar with him), where Becca Stevens and the women of Magdalene shared about the power of love and community to transform lives broken by abuse and addiction. 

For over six hours today (encompassing three two-hour worship services) this morning, I helped sell Thistle Farms products and books. Thistle Farms is the non-profit business through which the women in the Magdalene program gain job skills and earn money making all-natural bath and body products. (Check out their stuff at thistlefarms.org. It's also available at many Whole Foods stores and other retailers.) Patti--pictured at left below--and I felt like such novices compared with Katrina, Tara, and Gwen, the Magdalene graduates with us who are masters at their trade, but we got to where we could talk about the products and ring up a sale with ease as well!

I did get to trade off occasionally and go up to join in worship. Man, oh man--I was in heaven. I got to clap and sway and sing at the top of my lungs without sticking out like a sore thumb. 

Becca delivered her message at each service, and then her husband Marcus sang "Bless the Broken Road." They were both amazing.

I'm not really the sort of person who gets "starstruck" (at least not for actors, singers, and the like--moreso for big authors or well-known pastors) but I've got to say it's pretty cool hanging out with Grammy Award winning songwriters and artists. Marcus, as I mentioned yesterday, wrote "Bless the Broken Road," special to Matt and I as it was our wedding first dance song. Also on the tour are Don Schlitz (who wrote the Kenny Rogers hit "The Gambler"--and, just now checking out his website, I see he also wrote "When You Say Nothing at All" and "Forever and Ever, Amen") and country star Julie Roberts ("Break Down Here"). When I moved to Nashville seven years ago, I wondered if I would spot any stars--then I realized I wouldn't recognize any if I did! This tour, plus having a country music video filmed at our church before it burned, give me my full Music City credentials now, I think :0)

Anyone who knows me understands that meeting and hanging out with ten new people I don't (or barely) know is a recipe for major anxiety, but this group of people has been so welcoming to me as the newbie to the tour and we're having a lot of fun. Last night, we all went to an Astros game, and aside from the terrifying navigation of the streets here (holy cats--what is up with all the access roads, one-ways, and U-turns here?) everything is going smoothly. 

Tomorrow, we go into the prison, to bring words and songs of hope to incarcerated women in recovery. It will be an eye-opening experience, I am sure. Already having spent some time with the Magdalene women on the trip, I know there are walks of life and sides of the street I cannot begin to imagine. Tomorrow will likely paint an even starker picture of this world I've never seen.

On Mission

I feel a lot of guilt about my failure to get out and serve in the community more. Social missions are very important to me--namely, issues of poverty, hunger, homelessness, people's lack of access to affordable health care, etc. I try to put my money where my mouth is in supporting ministries focused on those causes, and politically, I vote and advocate in ways that I feel benefit those Jesus called the "least of these." But I feel negligent in not putting more of my time and physical energy toward those causes.

The lure of my family and home are so strong (and my free time so limited) that I have trouble committing to any regular volunteer schedule. Just as I try to give to those who beg from me on the street, I try to say "yes" when invited to serve somewhere for just one period of time, without signing away my precious two evening hours of "Kate-time" on any long term basis. (I have come to understand in recent years why the Apostle Paul and the Catholic Church even today advocate singlehood for the most devoted servants of God!) But I know I am called to do more. I just don't know what.

Several months ago, I begged God to lay a mission opportunity in my lap, and promised to say "yes." Soonafter that, I heard about an opportunity to serve at a Costa Rican orphanage for a week, and I immediately responded to express my interest. As the trip planning progressed, however, things just didn't feel right and I backed out. (That is not to imply there is anything untoward about the organizers of that trip; I just wasn't feeling comfortable about it.) Though my concerns felt reasonable, after my prayerful promise, I felt like I was explicitly refusing God's call and proving myself a fraud.

A few weeks later, my boss (who would soon be leaving for another position) called me into his office and asked me to take over a project he'd been shepherding--the Find Your Way Home prison tour. I wrote about it here, when I designed a benefit concert poster for the tour. The tour visits women's prisons around the country, delivering a message of hope from author and Episcopal priest Becca Stevens and graduates of the Magdalene program, which helps former prostitutes and addicts recover and live a healthy and whole life. (Becca Stevens is an Abingdon author, and we are sponsoring the tour along with the Cal Turner Family Foundation, so that's why my boss was so actively involved in this.) Their message shares with incarcerated women two principles: "love is the most powerful source for social change, and women can begin to create their own communities of healing wherever they are." (Those are Rev. Stevens' words.) I had been interested in and envious of the opportunity my boss had to travel with this group and be a part of this amazing ministry since the tour began in January. And now, for the final two stops of the tour, I get to be part of it as well.

The first of those two is this coming weekend--when I would have been on that mission trip to Costa Rica.

We'll be in Houston, where Rev. Stevens will speak at St. John's Downtown Church (a United Methodist congregation led by Rudy Rasmus) and then she and the Magdelene women will speak at a nearby women's prison the next day. I'm told it will be an amazing experience and I'm excited to be a part of it.

In Sunday school a couple weeks ago, we were talking about the death penalty, and someone said "You know, we can talk about these issues theoretically all we want, but Jesus said we should be out visiting those in prison." And I thought "wow--I actually get to do that." It's harder these days than it was in the days of Jesus or even John Wesley to go into a jail and visit with prisoners. There is a lot of security clearance, etc. But I have the opportunity to go into prisons and bring comfort and hope to troubled women. True, my role is more organizational--I won't be speaking myself--but I still feel honored to be a part of it.

This week, I got another e-mail about an international mission opportunity--a trip to Mexico to work on sustainable agriculture and combat hunger and poverty in rural Mexico. "Could I, should I, sign up for that?" I thought, always feeling like I need to do more and put my principles into practice. (And wow, that sounds like an amazing ministry!) I looked at my schedule, though, and wouldn't you know...?

It is the same week as the other prison tour visit I get to be a part of--to Los Angeles in September.

I still feel called to be more hands-on in serving the poor, and hope I can find the personal motivation to sacrifice some of that precious family-time. But this opportunity for prison ministry and the coincidence of the dates of those mission trips I heard about helps me to relax a bit and trust more that God will guide me to the places I should be serving.

What causes and ministries do you feel most called to?
How do you find (or make) time to serve others amidst the other responsibilites of daily life?