Here is a reflection I wrote about attending a Con-solatio family reunion:
Home. Just the word conjures up an ache in my heart. I lived in one home my entire childhood and it was a blessed place. I was homesick in varying degrees during my entire mission in Honduras, so I was grieved to find, when I finally returned home, that my homesickness immediately switched to being homesick for my home in Honduras. What had I done?! Would I ever feel perfectly at home again? No, I wouldn’t. However, it’s an ache that is worth carrying. Through conversations with Con-solatio members, I was given the insight that this homesickness is really a longing for our ultimate home- it is really a heavensickness.
Since the time of my mom passing away and my childhood home being sold, I’ve had the feeling that I can’t return home. Those events coincided with the joy of becoming a mother and tending a home of my own. I am overjoyed to try to take the formation I learned through Con-solatio and use it to create a welcoming and “homey” home for my family and friends. However, the melancholy heavensickness is never too far away. During the holidays, it tends to rear its head in ways that even cause me to have a sinful pity party. I start whining in my head about how I take care of everyone else, but who is going to take care of me?! Then we arrived for the Con-solatio family reunion. It was not the house in the Bronx where I had my orientation, nor the house in Brooklyn where I returned in my 20s for many reunions. The house was completely new to me, and yet, I gasped as I remembered I do have a place where I can come home. I smiled to myself as I realized that God even listened to my selfish whining, and said, “here, here are the ones who will take care of you, come, be taken care of by your Con-solatio family.” We went on a rainy afternoon trip to Central Park and the Rockefeller tree and Jiale noticed my scrunched shoulders and kept offering her scarf until I finally accepted her warmth. I turned my head after breakfast to see if there was enough coffee for a second cup and Nati was already at my other shoulder asking if she could pour me more coffee. The meals were made with care and love. Our rooms were prepared with thoughtful intention. Activities were planned with each guest in mind, including my young kids. It felt like every need was anticipated before we even had time to feel the need. “Thy kingdom come…on earth as it is in heaven.”
At evening prayer one night, we sang the words, “if the Lord does not build the house, in vain do its builders labor.” Through the familiar Con-solatio rhythm of prayer, meaningful and heartfelt conversations with friends new and old, home-cooked meals that go on and on, playing games and laughing…so much laughing, and the incredible New Years Eve party, I was reminded again that truly the Lord has built this house and this family, and I have been welcomed in by grace, not by merit.
Another of the events that touched my heart this weekend, was watching my kids be loved by the friends that I love. After the first night, my son woke up each morning looking forward to seeing his new friends. My daughter, whose job it is to set the table at home, has started making and placing name cards at our places at our table now, because, intuitively, she experienced that welcoming feeling of belonging at the New Years Eve dinner and wants to pass it on. The biggest reason that has kept me away from New York for so long is the stress of traveling with children. Now I know, however, that it’s just a matter of coming home.
Here is a speech I gave in 2019 upon receiving the Con-solatio Alumni Award:
I am so honored to be here tonight. My journey with Con-solatoio began over a decade ago and I am truly humbled to be receiving an award from an organization from whom I’ve already received so much. When I first decided to go on a mission with Con-solatio to Honduras, I had no idea how much that one decision would shape my life. If it weren’t for Con-solatio I believe I would be floundering, trying to live in a way that lights my heart afire, trying to follow God the best that I could, yet not having the words, not having the community, not having the realization that this simple way of living and loving, is in fact a calling, is in fact a path that God desires me and many others to follow.
My experience with Con-solatio has been that of the Magnificat. It has been an experience of God lifting up the lowly. I grew up in a small town in Washington State called Goldendale, population 3,000. If you thought I was a west coast hick coming from Washington, you don’t even know how much of a hick I really am! When God speaks to Bethlehem, and gives it a special calling he says, “But you, O Bethlehem, you are too little to be among the clans of Judah.” How many times did I look out over my neighborhood in Honduras and think to myself, Lord, how did I get here? Why did you call me, ME here? And as God opened every door and placed an extraordinary community of women in my house and gave me a student Con-solatio community after I returned to the U.S., I thought to myself, Lord, what do I have to offer these girls who give of themselves so generously? And as I stand here tonight, a small town girl at a fancy gala in New York City, I ask God again, with so much gratitude and awe, how did I get here? Our God is so extravagant in his love, isn’t he?
My parents were able to visit me while I was on mission in Honduras. When I returned home 7 months later, I was told countless times how much my mom was glowing upon her return from her visit. As I reflected on that, I realized my mom had been living a Con-solatio life of hospitality, presence and compassion for the suffering for as long as I knew her; just without the words and community. My calling was a continuation of what she had already been living. Six months after I became a mother, I lost my mom unexpectedly. I questioned my ability to be a good mother without having her guidance. For the first time, I became the suffering one and those at Con-solatio (did what they do so well) filled me with God’s love and wisdom. I remembered that the mission of Con-solatio is to have the heart of a mother, that when I need guidance and assurance I can trust Con-solatio to speak for her, for our heavenly mother, and for God. As Christians on our earthly pilgrimage, we owe gratitude to all those who have gone before us, and we pray that we may sow seeds that will be passed on. In our world that is so loud, rushed, and utilitarian, I am beyond grateful for the work that Con-solatio has done in me and that I strive to pass on. Thank you all for your support of this beautiful work of compassion. Thank you for this honor.