Lent: Day Sixteen

This is Rafael. He was the village leader at the second village in which we drilled. I wrote his story in previous posts about El Salvador, so I will share it again.

“When the poor and needy search for water and there is none, and their tongues are parched from thirst, then I, the Lord, will answer them. I, the God of Israel, will never abandon them. I will open up rivers for them on high plateaus. I will give them fountains of water in the valleys. … I am doing this so all who see this miracle will understand what it means -- that it is the Lord who has done this, the Holy One of Israel who created it.
--Isaiah 41: 17-18a, 20

In El Salvador it’s not who you know that makes a difference. It’s where you live. As Carlos Molina, coordinator for Agua Viva Internacional in El Salvador, says: “Location is everything.”

This is a truth Rafael Antonio Gonzalez knows well. The community leader for San Juan, a small village northeast of Acajutla, has watched three Agua Viva drill teams come and go -- and still his people have no water.

Early this summer, the first team came, as all teams do, with high hopes of providing water for the needy. They set up the drill rig, dug a mud pit and trench, and began to chip away at dirt and rock. It didn’t take long, however, to realize the rock was too hard. As it’s said, location is everything.

So the team moved to another location, and for a while, it looked promising. The drill bit pounded downward meter by meter. But then, one night while the team was away, the borehole collapsed. The week was over; it was time to go home.

The next week, members of the local Salvadoran Agua Viva drill team moved several meters away and started borehole number three, patiently drilling inch by inch. Still, by week’s end, there was no water. And that’s where team number three picked up.

Fresh from the victory of hitting water their first day on their first well, the nine American volunteers were confident God would grant two wells that week. They prayed He would. And then they drilled. And drilled. And drilled. Sometimes they got a meter every half hour, sometimes a meter every other hour. They drilled late into the night, guided by the headlights of a truck and munching on Oreos for sustenance. They returned the next morning and reached a depth of 58 meters. Soil samples indicated water was close.

Rafael hardly left the drill site. His son, Rafael Junior, hauled water and lugged pipe.

“Roca. Roca, de agua buena,” Rafael said again and again to the drillers, pounding clenched fist into open palm.

“The good water is under the rock. There is too much rock."

The day drew on. Two drill rods were broken and needed to be fixed before going any deeper. The team needed to dedicate their first well. For the third time, Rafael watched as pipe after pipe was pulled from the borehole in preparation for the next team, the next try.

Location is everything -- for both a well and a village.

Living Water wells drilled just miles away hit good water at 60 meters. Hand-dug wells in other villages produced filthy water, but at least they produced.

“My hand-dug well doesn’t work anymore,” Rafael said. “The neighbor’s is dry. And the neighbor on the other side, his is also dry. The water does not taste good. There is sickness in the water.”

Villages just miles away -- across the main road through Acajutla -- have electricity and passable roads. But not San Juan. When the rains come, the road leading to the village washes away in a slough of mud, leaving Rafael and his people isolated even though they are only a mile from the main road. Rafael has asked the mayor for help repairing the road many times, but to no avail.

“It is bothering all of us that the other side of the road has water and electricity, and we don’t,” Rafael said. “To me this water well is something everyone will appreciate. All the community is happy. But the sad thing is it won’t help so much. There is so much left to do.”

The same things bothered Agua Viva teams one, two and three. Each hoped to complete the well, giving San Juan a foundation on which to build itself up, yet each left only a hole in the ground. Still, it’s a start. John Nadolski, a Living Water staff member and volunteer on the third team, put it this way: “We had the satisfaction of success on our first well but didn’t get big-headed because on the second well, we didn’t do any better than any of the other groups. Now we get to celebrate with the team that does hit water."

And what a celebration it will be. Dozens of Agua Viva staff members and American volunteers -- and the friends and family members who have heard the plight of San Juan -- will celebrate God's timing and provision. Some day soon, there will be fountains of water in the valley.

Lent: Day Fifteen

Diarrhea kills one child every three minutes.

60 seconds. 120. 240. Gone.

1, 2, 3 minutes. Gone.

Let's put an end to this madness.

Lent: Day Fourteen

Brandon was our team leader for our Living Water trip to El Salvador. In this picture, he is juggling rocks (big ones!) for some school children we visited.

Apart from being entertaining, this photo makes me think of David and Goliath. When Living Water drills a well in an impoverished country, they are David throwing stones at the Goliath of dirty water.

Dirty water we come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty (1 Samuel 17:45, paraphrased)!

Lent: Day Thirteen

It has been an extremely busy week, with days full of work and deadlines and appointments. And hoop jumping. Government hoops, medical hoops, hoops of office "politics." I've been sleeping poorly and stewing over sad and frustrating events in loved one's lives.

I have desperately wanted a cup of coffee (or four) to cope. Even a nice cup of mint tea would help.

When I started this Lenten fast, I told myself I wouldn't blog about missing coffee. And I still feel that way, so don't call me a hypocrite yet. I don't share about my crazy week to call attention to myself but to give the background on what lead to a pretty cool thought today.

In James it says that the fervent prayer of a righteous man accomplishes much. When I was wanting coffee so badly today, I started thinking about that word, fervent. Merriam-Webster defines it this way: marked by great intensity of feeling.

Great. Intensity. Of feeling.

Like how I want coffee.

I need to pray for the thirsty in this world, for the thirsty Living Water can help, with the same intensity that I desire coffee. It is so easy to say passing prayers (and not bad, I don't think, because we are told to pray without ceasing), but sometimes I think we need to work on fervent prayers. We need to not be afraid of our emotions, or embarrassed by them.

We need to pray like David when he threw off his clothes and danced exuberantly before God.

We need to pray coffee prayers.

Lent: Day Twelve

My first thought when I woke up this morning: Coffee!

My second thought after that: Oh yeah, can't have that. Hot water!

My third thought: Wow. I get to wake up knowing I can have about anything I want when much of the world wakes up wondering if they will even get what they need to live.

And my fourth thought: This fast is so worth it.

Lent: Day Eleven

This is one of my favorite photos from our trip to El Salvador. Sarah used her limited Spanish to say hello to a few kids, ask them what their favorite color was, and suddenly she was surrounded by her new friends.

To paraphrase the movie, "Jerry McGuire," she had them at "Hola!"

They felt noticed, important even. Here was a beautiful woman from America, and she wanted to know what color was their favorite. What's more, she smiled and got excited when they answered. And when she didn't understand their words, she tried to clarify, to have them teach her a new word in their language.

We all want to be heard. We all want to be known. And when Living Water--or any other mission's agency, for that matter--goes into a country, it is a perfect chance to let people know that someone wants to know them, that someone hears them and cares about the big things like dirty water and the little things like pink being the color they love most.

The ultimate hope is that somehow us loving them will let them know that God loves them infinitely more. He knows the number of hairs on their head. He knows their name.

I fast so that more people around the world will be heard, known, and loved.

Lent: Day Ten

One of the things I appreciated most about my trip to El Salvador with Living Water International was that we came to support Agua Viva Internacional, the local arm of the organization. The local representatives were men and women from El Salvador. They did the groundwork of determining the neediest villages and establishing relationships. And after we left, they were the ones who carried on with well maintenance and discipleship of new believers.

I think this is so important because it is long term. I loved that we Americans didn't just swoop in, save the day, and leave. I mean, I think it's okay to do that--because we are told to help the poor and sometimes that's how helping is going to look--but if we can help the poor and leave knowing there is someone to keep helping the poor we helped, it's even better.

Agua Viva Internacional has been recognized by the government of El Salvador for its contributions to bettering the lives of its citizens. In a country that has a brutal civil war lingering in its recent memory, that is huge. It says these followers of Christ love their fellow countrymen and women in a country that once had brothers killing brothers. How powerful such love can be! How healing and unifying.

Villagers in India divided over class and religion are united when a church shares its Living Water well with all. Believers in Africa are known to worship the true God because that God's people brought water to a parched land and a parched people. There are countless stories of local believers reaching out to their own people with the love of Christ.

It's beautiful, and I fast so that more people can be missionaries to their neighbors.

Lent: Day Nine

"Live simply so others may simply live."
~Mother Teresa

I have few words of my own today, so I'll steal a few from one of the most loving, most self-sacrificing humanitarians who ever lived.

We are rich. Abundantly rich. And I often wonder what the world would look like if we followed Mother Teresa's advice. What if we gave not just on Sundays, and not just during Lent? What if we gave not just off the top of our abundance, but deep into it? Past it? Not because we can or should, but because we must, because we love?

Lent: Day Eight

El Salvador has the best tortillas in the whole world. Seriously.

Every day, the village women prepared us an amazing lunch to share together. There was rice and chicken and beans and soup. And tortillas. Beautiful, hand-ground, homemade tortillas. I don't know what they did to these tortillas, but they were pure magic.

Actually, I do know some of the ingredients: sacrifice, service, hospitality. I know feeding all of us took collective effort and sacrifice. It took teamwork to gather up enough food. It took time to prepare the meals and set the table. It took work to squeeze lemons from the trees down the road into some of the best lemonade I've ever had.

I don't think I've ever been more grateful for a meal. We were working hard, breaking a sweat, getting all greasy and muddy. But when we sat down to eat, when these women bustled food toward our table and urged us to dig in, I felt rejuvenated. And not just because of the food.

There is something special about breaking bread (or tortillas) together. When I eat the food someone prepared for me, I am sharing in their life. I am humbled and honored at the same time.

I fast so that more meals can be shared and more lives can intertwine.

Lent: Day Seven

 Maria, a well-respected woman in Campenaro Numero Dos (and one of the most genuinely kind and joyful people I've ever met), took some time to show us what the water in their hand-dug wells looks like.

Not too appetizing, is it?

I fast so less people around the world have to drink water that looks like this--or worse. I strive to never take my cold, clear water for granted. And I challenge you to do the same. Go fill a glass of water from your tap and take a moment to realize the blessing you hold in your hands!

Lent: Day Six

This man was fishing in the river that flowed near the second village in which we drilled. Located nearly a mile from the village, this dirty river was more than a source of food; it was also the villager's water supply. Each day they walked to the river and back--multiple times--to get water for washing, bathing, cooking, and drinking.

Can you imagine carrying all that weight every day? How real the promise that Jesus carries our burdens must be to them!  

When I look at this photo, I find myself praying that this man will become a fisher of fish AND a fisher of men. When Living Water International drills a well, they provide water for this life and the next. Is there any water sweeter than the living water that provides abundant, eternal life with Christ (John 4:1-26)?

I fast that there may be more fishers of men casting nets into the waters of the world.

Lent: Day Five

The first day of our hygiene training classes, we had the group of women and children split into small groups and draw their neighborhood on big sheets of paper. As I walked around and observed the discussions and drawings, I was surprised by what I saw.

Every group put the well at the center of their drawing--even though it wasn't complete at that time. They had faith that we would find water, and they knew just how special that water would be. I was humbled by this trust and appreciation.

Even more surprising, though, was the rest of the drawing. Little girls drew bright, loopy flowers and fluttering butterflies. Little boys drew dogs and chickens happily running through the streets. Moms drew spacious square houses with triangle roofs and children looking out the window or playing in the yard.

I came to their community and saw dilapidated huts made with grass, cardboard, tin, and cinder block. The richest families in town had smelly, barely covered outhouses. I saw garbage heaps and dirty rivers. I knew the busy road that divided their neighborhood had killed children.

But they drew happy streets lined with flowers. They saw butterflies and delighted in their erratic flight. They drew homes, family, love.

And at the center: the well we would dig, the clean water that would bring them even better life.

It's all a matter of perspective, sometimes. I need to remember that.

Lent: Day Four

When you give to Living Water International, you do more than give clean water to impoverished people. You open up opportunities for people like us to go and do the hard, dirty, wonderful work of drilling a well. We each saved our pennies to pay our own expenses, but without people praying and giving to fund these wells, there would be no need for teams to go. 

I know the trip changed my life. I had seen extreme poverty on previous travels, but I truly appreciated the chance to do something so tangible to alleviate some of the suffering. And I was equally--if not even more--blessed by the kindness and hospitality of the people we went to serve. I will never forget the food they gave, the hugs they gave, the trust they gave. I think of them often and pray God will make Himself known in those villages.

I fast for rag-tag teams like mine. We came from Colorado, Wyoming, and Texas, from different  churches and backgrounds, but we united for a great cause. We spent ourselves on behalf of the poor (Isaiah 58) and would never, ever want a penny of it back.

Check out the Living Water International website if YOU want the chance to go!

Lent: Day Three

This is Danny. We played Frisbee together. He really liked my camera. He won't have to drink dirty water anymore. He won't suffer from water-borne illness anymore. He'll grow up strong and, I hope, happy. 

I fast for kids like him around the world. They need clean water and the living water of knowing Christ as savior.  

Lent: Day Two

I hung this photo on the kitchen cabinet that holds water glasses. When my Mom asked about it, I got about four words out before I started crying.

"She was our first--"

My voice broke. I smiled apologetically.

She was the first person in the village to use our finished well. We had held our dedication ceremony and said our goodbyes. We were loading into our trucks to leave Campenero Numero Dos for the last time. I stepped away to gaze around, and that's when I saw her. 

I didn't have time to grab my camera, but the image is imprinted in my mind like a photograph. She stood across the street from the well, her hands folded much like this photo, and watched as her grandson placed their big blue jug beneath the pump. She smiled brightly as he pumped up and down. When the jug was full, he crossed the street and they walked together to their home--just yards away.  

It is such a simple image, but I don't think I'll ever forget it. For decades this woman had drawn dirty water from a hand-dug well. Though it was as brown as ditch water after a spring storm, she had bathed with it, cooked with it, and likely gotten sick from it. But now, she could walk down the street and get clean water. 

Living water. 

I fast for her, for tough old women around the world who will add one more eye wrinkle from smiling over the blessing of water.  

Ash Wednesday

I don't think I've mentioned yet that my family has joined me in my Lenten fast! All of us are drinking only water and setting aside the money we would spend on other beverages to donate to Living Water International. We are excited to see how our small sacrifice will help give clean water to impoverished families around the world.

A few days ago, I hung some photos from my Living Water El Salvador trip around our kitchen as reminders of why we were not pouring out cups of coffee or glasses of juice each day. It's been fun to see these photos on a daily basis. So fun, in fact, that I'm going to share them with you.

As I was thinking yesterday about whether or not to blog each day of Lent, I realized that sharing the stories behind some of these photos would be the best way to give names and faces to just a few of the millions who suffer from a lack of clean water. I pray they will open our eyes not only to the thirsty, but to the poor and oppressed and hungry and widowed and orphans. You know, those people God commands us to care for. Let's see just how big God can expand our hearts.

Coffee is not the point

Some people are finding it hard to believe that I am giving up coffee for Lent. Tea, hot chocolate, beer and milk? Yes. But coffee? Get serious, Hannah. That's too hard core.

Common conversations have gone like this:

Person: "So, are you giving up anything for Lent this year?"

Me: "Yes. I'm giving up all beverages but water. I'm going to save the money I would spend on other beverages and give it to Living Water International to provide clean water for impoverished people around the world."

Person: "What? No way. You're giving up coffee for Lent? You?"

Me: "Well, actually it's all beverages. I'll drink only water for 40 days in order to give clean water--"

Person: "Wow. You giving up coffee. That is brave."

Yada, yada, yada. It's like my name is synonymous with coffee. Am I in the thesaurus?

Am I really THAT addicted?

The answer to that question is: probably. From previous camping/backpacking/emergency situations, I KNOW the headache that awaits me. I do love my coffee. Not just for its caffeine, but for its aroma and its muse-like qualities when I write. I like to talk over coffee and think over coffee. I feel more like me with a cup of coffee in my hand.

And so, yeah, this year's Lenten fast is a sacrifice for me. I've actually considered fasting from coffee before and chickened out. It'll be a real character builder. I hope I learn to be me without the aid of my favorite drink. I hope I learn to be me as God sees me.

But, I beg you, please remember that coffee is not the point. And, if you're fasting for Lent, I beg you, remember that whatever you are giving up is not the point. It is easy to have pride in our fasting. And, from what I've read, God hates that. I would even say that fasting is not the point.

The point is: to sacrifice that you might know the suffering of the poor.

The point is: to do more than know.

The point is: to pray. And to give. To give yourself away and get lost in God's love for others.

The point is: God can say this way better than me. Check it out in Isaiah 58:3-11:


3 ‘Why have we fasted,’ they say,
‘and you have not seen it?
Why have we humbled ourselves,
and you have not noticed?’
“Yet on the day of your fasting, you do as you please
and exploit all your workers.
4 Your fasting ends in quarreling and strife,
and in striking each other with wicked fists.
You cannot fast as you do today
and expect your voice to be heard on high.
5 Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,
only a day for people to humble themselves?
Is it only for bowing one’s head like a reed
and for lying in sackcloth and ashes?
Is that what you call a fast,
a day acceptable to the LORD?
6 “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?
7 Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
8 Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness[a] will go before you,
and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.
9 Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
“If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
10 and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.
11 The LORD will guide you always;
he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
like a spring whose waters never fail.

The point is: You've gotta check out this video. Even if you don't do Lent, I would encourage you to consider praying for and giving to Living Water International. They love the poor and downtrodden. Won't you, too?



H20 Project from Living Water International on Vimeo.

29 Birthday Wahoos!

My best friend recently celebrated her 29th birthday. And I decided, since 29 is such a great age, that I should help. So, we met for the weekend and went just a little bit crazy.

You see, year 28 for her was not so great (her words). We both hope year 29 is fine (also her words). Frankly, I hope year 29 is way more than fine. I hope it brings healing in her unfathomable heart break. I hope it finds her kids happy and healthy. I hope God surrounds her every second of every day and night with His unfathomable love.

And I hope she has fun. I dubbed our weekend "29 Birthday Wahoos!" to ring in this new year with a healthy dose of silliness, giggling and smiles. I'll share a few photos below just cause they're so fun. If you think of it, and if you're the praying type, please say a prayer for Lindsey. Enjoy!

 We wore birthday tiaras to her birthday dinner. Mine says "Me Too" cause I already crossed that bridge.

 I stuck 29 balloons on her bed, and then we stuck them on the ceiling. My hair didn't appreciate that endeavor.

 Wahoo!

 We tried on pretty dresses...

 And tried out the Groucho Marx/Prom Queen combo.

 Hallo.

 Silly hats!

 Vintage store jacket coolness.

 We grew a safari in the bathtub at the hotel.

 M&M toss. Wahoo!

 It ain't a weekend of wahoos without some silly string.

 We jumped on the bed, too.

 Hee-yah!

 Paco Rabanne stopped by, so we gave him a kiss.

 The hotel had a glass elevator, so we rode it up and down.

 We rode bikes in Wal-Mart. Now that is something I've always wanted to do!

 I even got yelled at for riding a bike in Wal-Mart. Even better!

 We played the piano in the hotel lobby.

 And we ate tons of good food, like blackberry French toast at Cracker Barrel.

 Bubble tennis. In the car...it was cold outside.

 Chinese fire drill. Always a classic.

Lent for Living Water

I am now in my third year of practicing Lent. I grew up in an evangelical church in which Lent was not observed, but three years ago some friends and I decided to give it a try. I gave up my car that first year. You can read about it here, if you so desire.

Last year, I didn't "give up" anything, per se. I decided, instead, to add on a spiritual practice I'd neglected for years: prayer journaling. Like the year before, I found that I truly enjoyed the discipline. I like how Lent slows down the approach to Good Friday and gives Easter the "weight" it deserves in my mind. Spending 40 days in preparation for anything makes one take notice of it, for sure!

Just a week ago, I was looking at my calendar and realizing it was about time to choose this year's Lenten fast. That same day I received an email from Living Water International, a really, really cool nonprofit that drills water wells and conducts hygiene training to show God's love to impoverished people around the world. My friends Sarah, Dave, Ali and I went on a Living Water trip to El Salvador in June 2009. You can read about that here.

Anyway, the email included a neat video (go here to see it) and an encouragement on what to give up for Lent 2011: all beverages BUT water. Yep, that's right. No soda, no juice, no coffee, no tea. No $5 triple-shot soy lattes.

For 40 days.

The point: To appreciate the fact that you have clean water to drink and to save the money you would spend on all those other beverages and donate it to Living Water so more people can drink clean water. Also, as is customary with Lent, the longing for what you are fasting from is supposed to prompt prayer. Being the coffee addict that I am, I imagine I will be praying A LOT this season. I'm trusting that prayers can build a water well...

You heard it right, friends. I am including coffee in this beverage fast. I am committed to drinking only water from March 9 through April 23. And I imagine, as I celebrate the resurrection of my LORD on April 24, I will begin that day with the BEST French press of coffee ever poured!

Now, how about you? Will you consider joining me in this endeavor, this H20 project--even if only for 10, 15, or 20 days? Watch the video. And trust me when I say Living Water is a worthy cause. The money from 40 days of not drinking all the beverages we typically do could provide several people with clean water for their lifetime.

Wow, huh?

Think about it.

Pray about it.

And, if you think of it, pray for me, too. I can hardly write without coffee at my side. I relish a cup of afternoon hot cocoa. I relax with mint tea at night. But, I really want to do this. I am looking forward to how God will use this year of Lent in my life and the lives of the thirsty around the world.

I'll leave you with just a small sampling of photos of me drinking various beverages. Hopefully I'll be adding some pics of me drinking water to the collection...

 There will be no coffee toasting to one of the coolest murals in Montana.

 No drinking hot cocoa from a bowl. (This is in Alaska. We were backpacking and trying to pack as little as possible!)

 No coconut juice straight from the coconut.

 No cubicle desk that looks like this...

And did I mention no coffee while I write?!

Passports make me happy

At the beginning of 2011, I made one nerve-wracking trip to the post office. I bought a special envelope, checked to make sure it was tightly sealed about 3-hundred times, and handed it over with trembling hand to be weighed and shipped away. Its contents?

My passport.

My beloved blue book with arrival stamps and visas from exotic locales like El Salvador, Laos and Indonesia.

My proof that I've worked my butt off to travel--and never, ever, ever regretted spending any of those pennies.

I say the word "Travel" and my thumbs go numb with giddy excitement. I look at my suitcase, which is never stored out of sight, and grin a silly grin while imagining what I'd fill it with for whatever dream adventure is flitting through my mind that day. I hear an airplane taking off and can almost feel that whoosh that rushes up my throat whenever I'm the one pushing my nose against the window, watching cars, houses, farms, and mountains shrink into a dot on a map. 

Don't get me wrong. I've been fortunate enough to love every dot on a map that I've called home. Family, friends, jobs, and outdoor opportunities are always a blessing. But I do love to get away. I do love to immerse myself somewhere else. The love of God, family and friends not included, travel may be the thing in this world that makes me happiest. (Coffee and writing are a close second and third.)

And that is why sending my old passport away so I could apply for a new one was so nerve-wracking. What if it got lost? What if my application got mired in the bog of government? For how long would I not be able to leave the country? What if I found a plane ticket for a January weekend in Greece for $90 and couldn't go? Anxious what-ifs filled my mind.

I bought delivery confirmation for my package and checked it every day. I asked my mom if I'd gotten anything in the mail--every day. I looked at my suitcase and worried I may not get to fill it anytime soon--but not every day.

And then it came.

My old passport had two holes punched in the cover but all its colorful pages inked in Spanish, British and Thai were intact.

My new passport was fat with empty pages just waiting to be filled.

Just waiting for me to fill them.

And, dear passport, I write today to assure you I am happy to oblige.