Mariposas
“¡Guau!” I was enamored by the biggest butterfly ever in my house the first night at Familia Feliz. But immediately the girls hushed my reveling: “¡Es una mala mariposa!” (“It’s a bad butterfly!”) A borro is a type of massive butterfly or moth (no one can quite pinpoint it) that lives here and lays its eggs in clothing (or on people), which then burrow beneath human skin, leaving the larvae be squeezed out painfully. So now when I see a big moth/butterfly circling in my room, my first instinct to ooh and ahh is replaced by the urge to get away.
It seems that some of the best, most beautiful things are tainted by sin. There is more than one side to every person and every situation. Indeed, there is a very real battle against the beauty God intended.
Battle
Teacher Melissa stood outside of her house while twenty-two people were inside getting ready for supper. She was holding the hand of a little boy (who she’d just rescued from begging off of the street) while on the phone with his angry mother, who was threatening legal action and wanting to see her kids. Melissa was outside because she was watching a banana tree burn after one bored little boy used it as an oversized torch! She just shook her head and kept her cool.
Teacher Melissa is a superhero. She is the director of Familia Feliz and is a battle-hardened warrior. Daily she deals with impossible legal situations, handles stories of incredibly heavy emotional trauma, manages a school, raises dozens of kids in her house, resolves the drama that comes with all of it, does the shopping for and stocking of supplies to keep over seventy people fed and clean, and coordinates the constant turnover of volunteers and kids.
Her most pressing concern for Familia Feliz begins with the first of October: anytime this month, government officials and education supervisors will be inspecting campus alongside social workers who want us shut down (revenge for making them look bad after we took cases they ignored). They will be looking at infrastructure, paperwork, management, and who-knows-what-else after warning us of this a week ago. “This inspection has always been my worst nightmare, and now it’s coming true,” Melissa just said.
As if the stress load were not enough, Melissa is also dealing with the sudden illness of her mother, who is a twenty-hour drive away. A vital member of Melissa’s life is now out of her reach and on the brink of resting from life in this world. A week after we arrived, she finally got a diagnosis: leukemia.
Not but a month after discovering her mother’s diagnosis, it was the week of Melissa’s birthday. We got a message saying her brother and brother-in-law, Max, were in a plane crash in northern Canada. Max, who plays a crucial role here at Familia Feliz, was hospitalized with facial injuries. However, her brother is the one who is will be debilitated for longer: both feet are broken along with a broken arm, not to mention full-body abrasions. What an unwelcome birthday surprise!
There’s also the battle against sickness here on campus, as Nurse Sierra could tell you better than anyone. I’ve had many students cough in my face, held a girl before and after she threw up for the fifth time, prayed for the boy with suspected dengue fever, and held the baby with impetigo. Only days after arriving at Familia Feliz, Sierra and Treson spent a significant amount of time feeling sick enough to pray serious prayers, down with a similar bug to what went around campus. Then, before fully recovered, Sierra was upstairs in one house and put her hand up to protect her face from a bat flying toward her. Once outside, she discovered two fang marks on her wrist…and thus every morning for ten days she had to go to the hospital for rabies shots (which were administered incorrectly anyway)! Furthermore, poor Elizabeth has been put through the wringer, first suffering from black mold poisoning, and now having serious issues with a worsening, un-pinpointed food allergy that makes her esophagus close up. Most of us seem to be living by the grace coming from the prayers of others.
I can’t detail every battle here, but I can assure you of the war. Melissa is living proof that God is fighting for her and therefore for us.
“Christ did not tell His disciples that their work
would be easy. He showed them the vast
confederacy of evil arrayed against them.
They would have to fight ‘against principalities,
against powers, against the rulers of the darkness
of this world, against spiritual wickedness in
high places’ (Ephesians 6:12). But they would
not be left to fight alone. He assured them that
He would be with them; and that if they would
go forth in faith, they should move under the
shield of Omnipotence. He bade them be brave
and strong; for One mightier than angels would
be in their ranks-the General of the armies of heaven.
He made full provision for the prosecution of their
work and took upon Himself the responsibility of
its success. So long as they obeyed His word, and
worked in connection with Him, they could not fail.
‘Go to all nations,’ He bade them. ‘Go to the farthest
part of the habitable globe and be assured that My
presence will be with you even there. Labor in faith and
confidence; for the time will never come when I will
forsake you. I will be with you always, helping you
to perform your duty, guiding, comforting, sanctifying,
sustaining you, giving you success in speaking
words that shall draw the attention of others to heaven.’”
(Acts of the Apostles, 29)
Beauty
Every day has moments where the butterfly wings seem to open, where we can ooh and ahh and revel and rejoice in the beauty around us.
On Melissa’s birthday, she spent the day doing a scavenger hunt planned by her kids, going from house to house to enjoy the celebrations each had prepared for her. In Las Lilas, the cozy, overcast morning was spent hanging a backdrop, banner, and string of balloons. My little chefs baked cinnamon rolls, empanadas, and orange cake to go with the lemon palm tea and chocolate drink. From house to house we could hear Melissa laughing, talking, visiting, loving, and receiving love. Her kids helped her carry all the construction paper boxes and cards from every stop on her circuit. It was a beautiful day.
On one especially hot day, I saw her heading down to el arroyo with her kids. She wrestled her older son into the muddy water and laughed with the younger toddlers splashing along the bank. She held a baby while overseeing a swimming competition and watching her boys swinging from vines. For as many people as call her “mom,” Melissa seems equally present and engaged in their lives. Witnessing moments like those are evidence of the presence of the beautiful.
Every morning here is a new revelation of the beauty of God. Banana, orange, and palm trees peek through the mist hovering over baby pineapple groves. Weaver birds outside my window accompany the tropical chorus of insects and parakeets in a loud celebration of the life God gave them. Early morning light is the best atmosphere for me to breathe deeply and reflect on the beauty.
A beautiful moment of rejoicing in Las Lilas was when the first of our two pregnant cats gave birth to three precious kittens! “¡Que bonito!” Nicol exclaimed as we watched one pop out (first live birth I’ve seen). But not minutes later, she walked away and said matter-of-factly, “They’ll die.” I was horrified and so confused until Melissa later explained that this cat regularly has kittens and abandons them (probably due to malnutrition); “a typical Familia Feliz parent,” was her comment. Yet another beauty with a sad facet, however avoidable.
Here in Las Lilas, my girls still love butterflies. We make them out of construction paper, draw them on all art projects, hang them from the walls. Mariposas can be bad borros, but there is always good to be found in seeing one, always a reason to celebrate beauty.
God is Gracious
One of my friends sent me an incredible message of encouragement my third week here in Bolivia. In it, I was reminded that my name means “God is gracious,” something that I thought was cool as a kid but amazing now. “Even if you mess up, get snappy, or just don’t handle something how you wanted to, GOD is gracious,” my favorite part of the message read. “I think God has had and will continue to have many chances to be gracious to you…”
This week for me in Las Lilas had both incredible beauty alongside chances for God to indeed be gracious to me. All week I have felt an undertone of sadness, frustration, and fatigue from Teacher Abi, the Bolivian volunteer that I’m co-parenting with. Because of her familiarity with the language and culture, she makes an excellent disciplinarian. When I moved in, I brought with me hugs, kisses, music, dancing, craft supplies, gifts, bedtime stories, and cuddles. I figured I could love on them like that and T. Abi could deal with what I couldn’t.
I was terrified that the reason she felt off was because of something I did, since I am the newest addition to this house. I put off the conversation all week. Then, when Carlo asked why four of my girls were grounded for an entire day, I said, “Um, I actually have no idea.” It was a slap in the face: in letting Abi do her thing without questioning, I had become seemingly disinterested and uninvolved. Great. Now I knew I messed up.
Emilianne is my God-send. She is the world’s best mediator and struck up a conversation with Abi so I didn’t have to. Come to find out, Abi is incredibly frustrated with the girls in this house because they are attention-seeking in very manipulative ways, pulling the wool over our American eyes. My sweet peach, Ana, is apparently playing the sad victim when, in reality, she is bullying the other girls. Furthermore, Abi’s breaking point was when she had just disciplined Nirza, who took it fine until she saw us walk in the door and immediately began to scream and cry. She knows we’ll give her sympathy and attention. Uh-oh.
“Now I feel like I’m forced to be the Teacher Mala,” (“the bad teacher”) Abi told us. We are the “good guys” now. How she’s put up with that feeling for a month, I have no clue! Needless to say, after profuse apologizing, at least we’re on the same page. Now I just have to figure out exactly how I’m supposed to change (besides at least asking why kids are grounded lol).
There are two sides to every kid’s story, and, at the moment, there are “good teachers” and “teacher malas.” What beautiful, complicated mariposas.
The God who fights the battles here is the same God who described Himself to Moses as gracious. He is the God who has infinite grace — “mercy and divine power.” He is the God who designed butterflies to be solely beautiful, the God who I believe wants us to celebrate the beauty even amidst pain.
The song “Hallelujah Even Here” beautifully says,
“Sometimes nothing left to give
becomes the sweetest offering;
and sometimes choosing just to sing
is the thing that changes everything.
Hallelujah, when the storm is relentless.
Hallelujah, when the battle is endless.
In the middle of the in between,
in the middle of the questioning,
over every worry, every fear,
hallelujah even here.”
Love from here,
Katie-Jane
🤍
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“Jesus answered and said to him, ‘What I am going to do you do not understand now, but you will know after this.’” — John 13:7 |
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“Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.” — Lamentations 3:22-23 |
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September 29 celebration in full swing! (note the butterfly decor the girls made) |
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| Melissa with Alicia, José, and Rogelio |
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“¡Que bonito!” P.S. We’ve loved watching them grow, and their eyes are opening right now! |
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| September 27 plane crash |