sending snail mail

if anyone were to feel so inclined
the address you can send letters to is

Rachel Rael
c/o Sr. Mercy-Maria MC,
Missionaries of Charity, Motherhouse,
54a A.J.C Bose Road, Kolkata 700016, West Bengal, INDIA

the only thing i can imagine i'd want, other than a handwritten note, is chocolate.
i like dark chocolate. i had a difficult time finding good chocolate the las time i was there.

the address may change once i'm settled but for now this should do.

plans! plans! no plan!

i have plans, friends.
my first plan is to go to NYC
from there i plan to get on a plane
and fly my little not-even-half-mexican self to Kolkata
once in Kolkata i plan to show up for orientation at Mother House
and start volunteering at Daya-Dan, in a different capacity than before
soon after that i plan on finding a semi-permanent place of residence
but before that, i want to find a community of Christ followers
and serve them and alongside them
if they allow
i plan to have great adventures
maybe visit Mumbai and Bangelore
Rajasthan and Nagaland too
i plan to return at the end of June

but then again i have no money
well, that's not entirely true
mostly it's not enough
but He multiplies
so, no matter

i plan, i plan, i plan
and then He reminds me
that His plans are far more fantastic than my logical and rational thought patterns can conceive
He is good
He is faithful
and He will perfect that which concerns me

so i have plans, but then again i have no plan
no matter, His plan is always better

making an attempt at writing down my plans for the next trip to Kolkata
seeing, however, as i have little to no plans of which to speak, i wonder if my audience would settle for "i'm going back to do the same thing all over again. pray for trust"
it's quite the emotional whirlwind of excitement, dread, hope, sadness, joy and then there's that ridiculous little fear. every other thought of India makes me sick to my stomach. every other day i whine and beg him to set a different task before me. it's all fear.
and i fear because i've forgotten in these 11 months the beauty of trust.

i guess there's only one way to relearn

Isaiah 43

you are mine

so comforting

i'm beginning to dream this dream again.
details soon.
until then, friends, dare to dream as big as our God dreams.

tarp dwellers

you fill our hearts with more than we can hold inside

i spent a week trying to shake the memory from my mind, and for a few days i succeeded in doing just that, but now it seems i'm stuck with it.
she was tiny and round. maybe four and half feet tall. the fat baby she was holding just made her seem smaller. she was smiling though, her cheeks raised as high as they would go. there was a sense of pride in her eyes. but something was missing. something didn't quite fit.
it wasn't the fact that we were on the street, a tarp set up as a sidewalk home in front of us, or that there was a new baby who was forced to call this home. something else.

she showed him off to us, her words were animated without being too loud and i couldn't understand. we all congratulated her, fawned over the new baby boy and told her he was perfect, then proceeded past the gate and onto the path that led us to Monica House. as we walked he started telling me about her, "you know she's got a couple more kids. she just keeps them while they're babies and then hands them off to Shishu. She's just using them." his face was shadowed with disdain, a look i'd never seen from him. i wanted to yell out "i told you so!" to the part of me that had denied the uneasy feelings. but my heart was breaking.

humanity was failing me, again, miserably.

there's a part of me that still cannot make sense of it. we use each other as a means to an end. all of us. we've failed to see our fellow human beings as being just that, fully human. we place a price tag on humanity and value all the wrong things. if Jesus said the kingdom belongs to those we value least then we are fools to believe we can take it with our secrets and keys and steps.

Hebrews says that " we are receiving a kingdom which cannot be shaken"

i cried the day i let the old man pull me in his cart. his thin legs looked so fragile, like they could break at the next push of the bike pedals. the others laughed, my heart broke for them too. it's all they've known. and i cannot say my tears were shed out of love more than pity (i can't know for sure), so i resign.

but it seems Jesus was about handing over the kingdom to the most used rather than selling it to the ones who denied any wrong in their misuse of their fellow man.
so that's what i want to be a part of, investing in the seemingly bankrupt.
and letting the seemingly bankrupt in me be made rich with his love.

sunshine and wine

i'm not sure how to introduce this post and i've wasted too much time with my finger on "delete" so i will forgo any witty statements.

i met a woman during my first two weeks in Kolkata whose name i cannot remember. she's from California. at that point i'd not met many Americans and was still overjoyed when i did find one so i grilled her.
She'd been wanting, for years, to visit Kolkata and work with the Missionaries of Charity, alongside Mother Theresa and the sisters. the only thing keeping her from it was the task of raising her four daughters. Mother Theresa, of course, passed away but her desire to be a part of her work was stronger. last year, with one of her girls away at college and the other three in their teens, she realized that she was depriving not just herself but her daughters too of the experience Kolkata would provide. so she packed them up and made the appropriate arrangements to take them out of school and across the world. that's where i met them, the young, vibrant, blond girls full of joy and love. i saw them love the kids at Daya Dan with unmatched intensity. they took each task and performed it with ease, never once mentioning the difficulty or unpleasantness of what they did. i know i'm still young but something in me wishes that i'd gone there when i had more energy and required less rest, when my knees weren't screwed up and my body felt lighter, when i wasn't so jaded.
I admire that mother more than most because she was unafraid to take her children away from their comforts and show them a different way to live and love. she set down logic and "the norm" and found the beauty of letting go and trusting God with the outcome. and mostly because she loves Jesus and it shows.