The Bronx

Well, I returned this week having spent 4 days in Bronx, NY with 12 youth and 17 other adults. What an amazing trip. It stands to reason that the purpose of going on a mission's trip is to go serve people who are less privileged than yourself, but it never fails that you get more blessed than you could possibly imagine.

Deciding to go on this trip was difficult for me. Not only because traveling is somewhat difficult with my food allergies, but also because of the one year old bundle of joy at home that needs her daddy. I talked it over with Andrea and she assured me that if I felt like I had to go, that she would be fine taking care of baby. Now, I knew she would be fine actually taking care of her, but to get her approval seemed liked the best route to go.

The trip started on Thursday. Early Thursday. Early, as in "I'll see you at church at 6am" early. We had an 11am flight in Columbus, so I was planning on leaving church by 7. To everyone's credit, they all arrived early and we were able to depart around 6:45. We were taking four vans to the airport, so I'm thinking we're in pretty good shape. That lasted for about 20 minutes. That's when we see the last van in our caravan pull off and exit the highway. Something must be wrong. We call. "Somethings wrong," they say. Great. The other vans pull off at the next exit and call again. "All my lug nuts were loose. We'll be back on the road in 5 minutes." So Lugnut (as the driver is henceforth referred to) and his "crew" meet up with us 20 minutes later. Good thing we got off to an early start.

Without boring you with the checking in, getting through security, and the flight, let's just say we made it to NY with little problem. (Well, we almost lost one parent, but we found her.)

After a 2 hour subway ride, we arrived at Robin and Harve's (our hosts) house. Robin and Harve hosted us last time we came to NY, although we only brought 12 that time. They are amazing people. They have lived as missionaries in NY for over 3 years. They had moved since we were there last, and now lived in a building owned by an 86 year old woman, affectionately called Grandma. Grandma is an interesting character and we'll get back to her in a minute. First, the building. It's a three story apartment building with a basement. Grandma lives on the first floor, and she rents out the second and third floor apartments to Robin and Harve. And she also lets them use the basement. Now, these apartments aren't small, but when you try to cram 30 people in them, they start to feel cramped. I was in the basement with 9 other guys on bunk beds. Thankfully, I got to sleep in a bottom bunk, because the top bunks were about 3 feet from the ceiling. Somehow, we managed to get the other 20 people comfortable upstairs. At the time, us basement dwellers felt a little cramped, but looking back, it wasn't so bad. Part of the problem is that the hallways in the whole house were narrow, so you always felt like walls were all around.

Now, logically, you would think being in the basement would be the coolest place in the house. You know, hot air rises and all that. I'm not sure that applied the first night. It had to be 80 degrees down there. For all the complaining we did that first night, I think most of it was half-hearted and we were all just excited about being there. Well, at least I was. Thankfully, the next two nights were much cooler. As it turns out, the weather the whole trip was pretty good. It rained Friday making it very cool, to the point we had to buy long sleeve shirts because nobody brought any. Saturday was a little warmer, but nothing like we have in Cincinnati in August. It could have been a lot worse.

Grandma was a riot. She grew up in Washington, DC and moved by NY 30 (or 50) years ago. Oh, the stories she told. I can't tell them nearly as well as she can, but suffice it to say that she has led a very interesting life. She was such a blessing for us on this trip and it would have been a much different trip without her.

Friday brought a trip to LPAC, where we had visited last time. LPAC is a school/daycare/afterschool program type place, and the day we arrived, there were 40-50 kids, ranging in age from about 4-11. We were scheduled to be there from 10-3, so the first half of the day we did crafts with the kids. What a mess! Some people did face painting with the kids (which turned into mostly arm tattoos by the end). I helped with the sand painting. We had these crosses that were sectioned so you could peel off a section revealing a sticky side, on which you would then neatly apply some sand, turning that section the color of the sand. That lasted for the first section. Well, the neat part anyway. Most of the kids actually got the concept, but man, what a mess. But it was during this activity that I met my buddy for the day. Andy. Andy plopped down right beside me and didn't leave for 2 hours. We ended up making 3 crosses and I took him to get a "tattoo" of a tiger. Only a week later, I don't remember much of what Andy and I talked about. The only thing I remember him saying was "Do you want one of my crosses to take with you so you have something to remember me by?" How does that not melt your heart?

After lunch, some members of our group did a clown program for the kids (very well done, by the way), and Andy sat with me the whole time. Then we played some games. You would have thought the sand was sugar and that they ate it all. Man, were they hyper. But hyper kids make for fun games. We stayed at LPAC about 45 minutes longer than we were supposed to, but the time went by so quick. I hope I never forget Andy.

Friday night was Times Square. Fun, but not much to tell. M&M world was cool, though. They had the weirdest mannequins at the Gap. I'll see if I can find some pictures....

Saturday was a day I'll never forget. After breakfast, the 30 of us split up into 2 groups: those that wanted to see Yankee Stadium later in the day, and those that didn't. Of course I wanted to see Yankee Stadium. The other group went to Little Italy in the Bronx while our group did an "Ask the Lord" listening prayer activity. Going into it, I just planned on going through the motions, doing what I was told, and just get through it. God had other plans. The idea was for each of us to find a quiet place to pray and listen to God and just write down what we heard, or what we thought, or what came to mind. Well, I'm not very good at just sitting and listening, so I walked. And I walked. I walked by the AIDS hospital that we visited last trip and I wrote down "AIDS." Then I wrote down "HURT" because visiting those people 2 years ago, you could see the hurt in some of their eyes. I walked some more. I wrote down "WHY AM I WALKING", because I was getting annoyed, thinking God wasn't talking to me. Then I saw a little girl. I wrote down "CHILD." Then I wrote down "ORPHAN." Not surprisingly after that, I wrote down "RUSSIA" (Andrea and I are in the process of adopting from Russia). And I didn't think much about it. I stopped walking when I got back to the house. We had some time left, so I popped open my Bible. First page I went to: Psalm 118. I read verses 81-88. I didn't think much of that either. Then we all gathered back to share what we found. I kept reading my list and those verses. One phrase kept coming back to me: "When will you comfort me?" Suddenly, I couldn't read it without crying. People were sharing their stories, and I kept trying to read this verse. I couldn't. I kept thinking of a little girl in Russia asking me "when will you comfort me?" or "when will you come for me?" When it came time to share, I tried to read it. I'm not sure how it came out - probably all high pitched and whiny sounding like when you try to talk while crying. Something came over me in that room that I'll never be able to explain. But after going through that, I'm confident that adopting is the right thing to do and that God will help us through it.

Yankee Stadium was a bust. We got there 30 minutes after the last tour went through. We tried to beg and plead our way in, to no avail. Maybe next time....

We threw a block party for the neighborhood Saturday night. We grilled out hot dogs and hamburgers, passed out school supplies to the kids, did face painting, and met the neighborhood. Apparently, we were technically breaking the law by having this block party, as you are only allowed one per year, so of course the police showed up. We quickly disbanded the party after that, but I think everyone had a good time.

In the middle of the block party, one of the adults on our trip came out of the house arm in arm with our youth pastor and shared that he had an announcement to make. Now, about 3 months ago, a lady in our church who knows this man very well said that this trip was for him. And she was right. He announced that he had accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior and that it was time for a change. And everyone cheered. It was awesome. The glow about this man the rest of the day was indescribable. What an incredible thing to witness.

With the block party ending a little early, there was time to go ride the Staten Island Ferry and see the Statue of Liberty. Looking back on it now, I should have gone, but I was so tired, well drained would be a better way to put it, that I decided not to go. It's a good thing, too, because those that went didn't get back home until 2am. So I was thankful for the extra sleep.

Sunday was supposed to be attending the Brooklyn Tabernacle, but there was some confusion on the service times and it turns out we weren't able to attend. No worries - we all ate lunch and headed for the airport.

Looking back now, I wouldn't have missed this trip for the world. I hesitated even going on the trip, and then deciding to help lead the trip, but I'm so glad I did. Thank you to all who helped and to all who went and to all who stayed back to make it possible for us to go. I can't wait to get back.

Ramble On...