Sustaining a heart of flesh

Photo credit: Rose Grengs

I keep coming back to the idea of where emotion sits in our bodies. Where do I really feel it? Do I allow myself to feel emotion, the deep stuff, on a regular basis?  The really deep emotion that's hard to move in and out of gracefully? Or do I smush it back down into my stomach? Is it that I really don't HAVE to feel emotions if I don't want to because of the place I happen to live, the privilege I happen to have? Or have I been normed that showing emotion is a sign of weakness? 

Where do the emotions of deep pain, fear, despair, shame, pain or joy show up on my body?

I can tell you where the emotions showed up while I was in the desert. At the first sign of life where someone had sought shelter in the very place I was walking drove a feeling in my body from head to toe and continued to stay in my chest as I walked. However I couldn't necessarily name the emotion. A combopack of many perhaps.

And even now as I'm trying to get deep in remembering exactly how my body felt while I walked in the arroyos of the Sonoran Desert, I'm munching on popcorn, drinking white wine, and trying not to switch away to my Nordstrom Rack tab that I currently have open. Wow. It's all too easy for me to avoid FEELING.

I am not obligated to write and yet I feel I cannot abandon my thoughts. 

As I look back at my photos, even the emotion I felt so strongly that Saturday is seemingly absent from the photos.

I stood in places where people were fighting for life; where people were in too deep to turn back; where women and men carried children across the desert under moonlight.

We found broken backpacks, weathered ponchos, a child's shoe, water bottles, food remnants, and clothing. Each item was only a clue to the perilous journey of its owner. Certainly no one would put themselves through the risk of crossing a border if their lives

were not in danger; if family were not at stake.

My emotion rode high as we walked. In my chest and up through my shoulders, even into my neck at times. 

If I sit back now and allow it, the feelings will come back. My breathing will quicken and go deeper all at the same time. I swallow more. The back of my throat feels different and there's a buzzing that occurs from my head to my chest. Feeling this is important. Feeling this makes me human and reminds me of the men, women, and children who feel these emotions without a choice. Daily. Hourly. Right now.

Again I am brought back to the Lenten message that the Catholic church has shared: Changing hearts of stone to hearts of flesh.

It is clear to me now. Is it clear to you? 



Ezekiel 11:19
"And I will give them one heart, and put a new spirit within them. And I will take the heart of stone out of their flesh and give them a heart of flesh." 

Special Thanks to No More Deaths and Arivaca's People Helping People. Both are humanitarian
aid organizations working together in the Sonoran desert and across the U.S./Mexico border. 

Getting Grounded

The wall divides Nogales, Arizona and Nogales, Mexico.

One of the ‘Welcome the Stranger’ co-chairs opened up our meeting last week by reminding us that we are all immigrants in this land and asked if each person could share who in our families is or was an immigrant?

And as we did a quick whip-around the room, about 20-25 people came up with these ethnicities:
Czech, Dutch, English, French, Irish, Italian, German, Guatemalan, Luxembourger, Mayan, Middle-Eastern, Norwegian, Peruvian, Philippines, Polish, Russian, Scottish, Slovenian, Swedish, Welsh

What a powerful way to start a meeting by bringing us back to our roots. This reflection on our own ethnicities also served as an introduction to a small delegation visiting from our Sister Parish in Tierra Nuevo II, Guatemala.

Pedro and Olga introduced themselves and shared their stories. Olga shared how her father was once a migrant in his own country as he moved around Guatemala trying to find work. Many times he would sleep on the street not wanting to spend extra money on lodging. While his wife and children waited for word of his work, they were often hungry. Olga shared that it is this hopelessness, despair and uncertain future that often pushed some friends and family turn to a life of crime. These were not “bad people,” these were people experiencing desperation. While speaking her truth, Olga’s tears streamed down her face turning our hearts of stone into flesh.
Then it was Pedro’s turn to talk. His story was similar but brief as he couldn’t say much without emotion overtaking him.

Although my trip to Nogales, Arizona and Nogales, Mexico is less than two weeks agway, Olga and Pedro helped to ground me in the importance of solidarity across nations, across borders, and within our hearts.

One more week to donate MONEY or STUFF to organizations like HEPAC, No More Deaths, or KINO Border Initiative. Message me for more information on how to get MONEY (cash or check) or STUFF (toiletries, school supplies, toothbrushes, cold weather clothing for children) in my hands ASAP.


We will march by the millions. We will tremble and grieve.
We will praise and weep and laugh. We will believe.
We will be courageous with our love. 
We will rush danger as we sing and sing and sing to welcome strangers. 
This is our song. This is our road to peace. 

-Excerpt from Hymn by Sherman Alexie, 2017