Welcome Home!

Porfirio and his family moved into their new concrete block home in Los Alcarizzos, Dominican Republic on Thursday, August 7. The entire neighborhood, plus two other mission teams were on hand to celebrate as the two pick up trucks containing all their household possessions pulled into the street. Our team helped move the family’s bags of clothing and kitchen utensils, and their simple furniture into the two bedroom home, gleaming with a stainless steel double sink and new stove top in the kitchen, and flush toilet, shower and sink in the bathroom.

Through the week Porfirio and his girls were on hand to help with the work of building their home – he mixed concrete and laid concrete blocks, and the girls, age 8, 9 and 15 helped carry water from a couple blocks away to make the concrete. The little sister Larrisel, almost 3, also helped sweep the floors just before the belongings were moved in, and did an amazingly good job! The work was hard manual labor, in incredibly hot, humid weather. But these hard working people will clearly take good care of this new, though simple home.

Los Alcarizzos is an extremely poor area, yet the smiles of the people were warm and welcoming. In the neighborhood where we built the house, several others have already been constructed, and a building lot was being cleared for the next home. One other mission team was helping finish a school, which has been supported primarily by outside groups, but also through a collection by the neighbors of $91. When they received that amount from these poverty-stricken residents, the mission organizers deepened their commitment to finish the school. Nearby, a church is being constructed, with a community center planned, and basketball and volleyball courts for play.

In addition to building the home, our team held Bible School sessions on two afternoons, and distributed backpacks to the 96 kids that contained school supplies (notebooks, pencils, erasers, a calculator, ruler, Spanish-English dictionary, Spanish New Testament) and toiletries (toothpaste and several toothbrushes – so all in the family can have one – soap, shampoo, tissues, bandaids, deodorant). Our extra bags contained over 1,000 pounds of donated supplies for these grateful people. They may be poor in material things, but they are rich in God’s spirit!

I guess I am a Missionary

Growing up, I thought missionaries were highly religious people who went to Africa to convert the heathens. Since I wasn't highly religious and didn't particularly want to go to Africa, and had no real idea how one would go about converting a heathen, I assumed I would never be called a missionary.


I was wrong. I'm still not highly religious, have not been to Africa, and now know that it isn't people, but God who does the converting. And I've learned that missionaries do many more things than simply trying to convert someone.


I've been called to show God's love in some pretty peculiar places using some strange methods - I guess I am a missionary.

Behind the Walls

It started when I went behind the walls of the maximum security prison in my community. I was asked to come to a worship service at the conclusion of a retreat for inmates that had been led by laity and clergy. Armed only with my guitar, I strolled in with other guests, strumming and singing songs of praise. The guys assembled at tables in the crowded room greeted us with smiles and handshakes, and they offered us chairs and snacks as we listened to the men witness to their closest moment with Christ. A couple years later, I was asked to help lead a similar retreat, and after my initial anxiety, felt strangely at home inside the walls of that prison. (No, we don't stay in the prison overnight - but we do eat lunch and dinner with the men.) I was a missionary, bringing God's love to a very dark place.

Since then, I've helped lead additional retreats, and now go in once a week to help lead a Bible Study for some of the same guys who've attended the annual retreat. Tuesday night is the high point of my week as we gather to pray, sing praises to God, and study his Word. I'm in awe of the Bible knowledge some of the guys have. One man smiled, and reminded me, "I have more time than you do," when I said I should study the Bible more. I responded, "We each have the same amount of itme - it's how we choose to use the time we have that really matters." The depth of the sharing is humbling at times. And their singing surely pleases God. Current favorites are "Kum Ba Yah," "They'll Know We Are Christians by Our Love," and "Give Me Jesus."


Do I Look Like a Construction Worker?


Despite my small stature, and lack of building skills, I've also answered the call to travel several times to the Gulf Coast to help in the rebuilding and restoration of homes and lives destroyed by Hurricane Katrina (and Gustav and Ike...) I've travelled with other Central New Yorkers to Mississippi and New Orleans to help in tasks as varied as mucking out houses, finishing dry wall, and installling insulation, window trim and crown molding. After the crown molding I said, "It's a good thing they don't pay me by the hour - they could never afford me!" I struggled one afternoon with another woman to put up the crown molding - it wouldn't fit despite our repeated "Measure twice and cut once" efforts. We took our second and third pieces down, trimmed a bit, shaved the back edge, put them back up. Eventually, a professional carpenter in our group returned, and realized we had angled the first piece incorrectly, making all the other sides not fit. He took it down and reinstalled it, and the rest of the pieces fit like a glove. I decided not to quit my day job!


Una Neuva Casa para la Familia Baez

This summer, I will travel to the Dominican Republic to help build a home for the Baez family - a father and his four daughters. Their current home is so poor that when it rains, water runs through and they must take shelter with neighbors. We'll build a house of concrete block, with real running water. I'm not sure how many concrete blocks I can lift in the tropical heat and humidity, but I know I can be of help, perhaps in ways I can't even imagine.