Hidden Treasures

It's no secret my family tree is complicated. If you have ever been my friend, you have probably been confused. That's mostly because, yes, my parents are divorced but also both sets of my grandparents are also divorced. My parents are remarried—so voila! 6 sets of grandparents. Confusing? Yes. A blessing? Absolutely. It's also no secret to those close to me that my Grandma Genevra (my dad's mother) is my kindred spirit.

 

From the time I was little and as I grew up, she was a guiding force in my life. From little things to big things, I learnt a lot from her. So much of me is from her. It runs that deep.

For the past 7 years Grandma Jenny and the rest of our family has had to deal with MS: multiple sclerosis. It is the hardest thing I have personally dealt with in my life. Which, says a lot, because I am not the one suffering directly from the disease. But, that's not what this is about. Not today.

 

I'm writing because tonight I reconnected with her, and not in an expected way.

 

Grandma is practically paralyzed on her left side now. She has very little control of her body—no longer can she form many coherent, words, sounds, or sentences. Just last week when I popped in to see her at the nursing home, I watched as she tried to brush her teeth. A struggle, and also an impossibility for her now, she must solely rely on others for her care giving.

 

When we went to Josh's baseball game in Highlands Ranch she could barely see. Her back hunched over from her depleted muscles kept her from keeping her head up. It's getting harder to take her out. But, Gary (essentially my grandfather) does it every single weekend. The mountains, Denver, Boulder, you name it. They go.

 

I was thinking about all of this as Lance and I dug through some stuff in the garage. We were having a garage sale, and dad wanted us to sift through some boxes. I found old china, my old dolls, and old kitchenware. Nothing totally unexpected.

 

That is, until I found one of my Grandma's old purses. A stylish, sophisticated, coffee cream color purse, it screamed Grandma Jenny.

 

Giddy, I opened it up.

 

It's amazing—it smelt of Grandma. Her scent, like I remember it, a mix of Chanel No 5 with the sweet smell of rose blush. I hadn't smelt her like that in years. I kept digging.

 

This purse was clearly hers before she got really sick and the MS took a turn for the worse. She had a Colorado MS magazine, and a letter from her doctor too. She had two pairs of sunglasses, big, and diva-esque, as per usual. My Grandma always exuded classiness.

 

Grandma also kept everything. Old receipts, letters, notes, and God knows what else. All in her bag, too. I even noticed in her old checkbook how her writing progressively got shakier and shakier as her muscles gave out more and more. An old billfold. Pictures. In one of them, she is completely glowing. It's Christmas time and she is looking admiringly at Kaitlyn, my cousin and one of her other granddaughters. Strong, vibrant, protective, and compassionate.

 

There was an envelope in her purse too. Dotted with various phone numbers and miscellaneous information, I opened it up. She had an article cut out, a check from my uncle that never got cashed, and old pictures. One of the pictures was when she couldn't have been older than 22. She is wearing a gorgeous red dress with black heels, holding a pair of white gloves in her hands. She is posing next to a grand piano, with her hoop earrings, bright red lipstick, and glowing smile. I never knew this young woman. I only knew her as my grandmother, and yet here is evidence of a life well spent as a beautiful woman. I felt like she was really here again. I grew up wanting to be like her. I still do. Finding this purse and finding mementos and remnants of Grandma before MS made me incredibly happy. Sometimes it is hard to separate the disease, but it can be done. MS doesn't define her.

 

I struggle with what has happened every day. She always crosses my mind at some point. When I see someone sewing. When I want breakfast for dinner. When I see CSI come on. When I go to the library. When I play sports. When I watch old ladies work in the their garden.

 

No, she's not dead, but in dealing with this disease you lost a lot of that person—inevitably.

She isn't gone though. I was reminded of that as I perused through her old belongings. For the first time ever really, I am at peace. I don't feel anger. I don't feel so sad. It is what it is. I still have with me everything she taught me. She let me dream. She let me know anything was possible. She held me. She showed me the small things in life and told me that these are what makes this world beautiful. And love too.

 

Always love, she would say.

 

So that is what I will try and do. For so long I have been angry about what happened to her. But years have passed, and time keeps going. God is working in my life, and in hers, and I am finally letting go. I can't change what has happened, and I can't change what she might be going through. I can still love though. I can always love. Here's to love.

Endure

From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

Ephesians 4:16

 

As Paul talks about his visions for the unification of the Body of Christ, I am not only reminded of humanity, the need for transformation in our world, and of what Christians should be looking for, but I think also about unity in my own life. One thing in particular, the field hockey team.

 

Here in Ephesians parallels where I envision a strong team: that of pieces (people, players, coaches) supporting each other and doing their part with love to create a whole. This whole can be our team.

Training and preparing for fall season of hockey has in so much dominated my summer to this point. I've been hiking, seeing friends, and hanging around the house, but I have been working out just about every day too. It's been good—a way to decompress and set aside my lingering anxieties of readjusting. Ghana is all over me and inside of me—forever. So, being back in America has been hard. I've needed an outlet, a way to get escape the intensity of being back just for a little while. Doing my workouts, focusing on training my body, it's been what I've needed. And, after mediating on this verse in Ephesians, I am more motivated to do my part.

 

I want to do my part this summer to be ready in August, and I want to do so with determination, effort, and dedication. I want to be a piece to the whole, a whole that is unified with love.

 

I've been playing this game for almost 8 years. I know what it takes. I've experienced the good, the bad, the challenging, and the rewarding both on and off the field. It's all a part of the game, of the sport, and playing on a TEAM. I love being on a team. I love working hard, together. I love knowing that I can be a part of something much deeper than some girls trying to put a ball in the cage. I love the adrenaline. And, the obstacles too. Because that is really where the learning begins.

 

When I walked onto the field to try out for the girls field hockey team at Grandview High School, I was an unsure, nervous, and curious girl. What, exactly, was I doing? I played soccer. So when mom signed me up and got me a weird, candy cane looking stick, I wasn't sure how this whole trying out for field hockey would go over.

 

Who knew that that hesitant girl would become a true fan of this strange sport of field hockey?

From broken noses to overtime goals to runs at the State Championship to being a part of starting a new team, playing field hockey has been crucial to understanding bigger things. You know, things outside 16 yard hits, corners, and pulls.

 

Friendship. Humility. Trust. Perseverance.

 

By no means am I a master of any of these things, but I suppose it is those things that keep me going as I do that extra lap around the track. As I lift a few more weights, and as I embarrassingly do more agilities in front of everyone at the gym.

Yes, I do it so Ellie does not kick my ass.

I do it so preseason is a little less painful.

I do it so I am ready for game 1 of my senior season.

 

A bigger part of me though, endures through summer training so I can continue being a part of this team, where friendship, humility, trust, and perseverance come with the territory.

 

I endure because I strive to be a supporting ligament, building in love, and doing my work so the whole is joined and held together.

 

I endure, because really, this is what I love to do.

We had some fun practices in high school...

University of Denver Field Hockey Camp

Playing Fort Collins

Last team picture

My family supporting us at our playoff game against Creek

Freshman Year...and those classy orange uniforms

Team Huddle. HEART.

Hendrix Field Hockey does Halloween in Kentucky 

Home WIN over Sewanee

You did it.

As I helped him button his shirt, using the lint roller to make it look perfect, simultaneously attempting to put his blue tie in place, I took a step back and was proud of the man that stood before me.

This man, my brother, has had some of the most difficult experiences the past couple of years. He's grown up a lot. He's been through a lot. And, there were certainly times I wasn't sure he would make it. I didn't know if he could make it to this milestone; I wasn't sure if he could ever truly believe in himself. I never gave up; rather, I just didn't know when the day would finally come.

It came today.

Lance graduated high school.

It's a milestone for everyone, I know, but for Lance this is huge. He's going to college this fall, and he's enrolling at Colorado State University with an attitude that has been missing for the past year or so. It's my brother. He's back.

He is happy. I can sense it in the way he hugs me, in the way he carries himself, and in the way he talks about his future. God truly answers prayers, and this is a big one. Lance has a new beginning before him, and he really will do great things. God has something so beautiful and incredible planned for his life.

Lance is pretty much the funniest person I know, he likes cheese just as much as I do, and he always, always makes me laugh. He will do anything for the people around him, he always knows what to say, and he doesn't take life lightly. He lives it to its fullest.

Lance makes me proud to be a big sister. I feel more comfortable around him than mostly anyone, I tell him absolutely everything, and some of my favorite memories in my life are right alongside him.

One time, coming back from Utah, and driving around 1am, we stopped for coffee at some random gas station. I put some of this magical energy stuff in my coffee since I was driving and Lance rode shotgun to help me stay awake. To this day, I don't know what was in that magical stuff, but HOLY MOLY. I went psycho, like, even more crazy than I already am. So, as we traversed through the Rockies in Utah, I was laughing, singing, and saying the most absurd things, with Lance laughing right along. I smile just thinking about it. Or, when I think back on our childhood summers, I remember our long bike rides to buy slurpees and chili cheese dogs (extra cheese, of course) from the barnstore. I remember making football plays in the front yard, and Lance always letting me play quarterback because it was my dream. I remember catching fish up in the mountains and thinking we were so cool…only for mom and dad to tell us later that we fished out of a pond that they fill with fish so you will basically be guaranteed to catch anything. I remember forcing Lance to play barbies with me, putting a dress on you and taking pictures, and walking barefoot outside, thinking we were clearly the most BA people ever to live.

I also remember how I felt when you hugged me after my last field hockey game in high school. I remember how you listened to me talk to you about my dreams, worries, and hopes until 4 am one night, letting me sleep on your floor in your room. I remember talking about rugby this past winter, and our day out together when you decided you wanted to play. And, I will now always remember how you looked walking up to get your diploma. Strong, confident, fulfilled, and happy. You did it, Lance.

We've done so much together, and after this summer, this is his chance to go out and find himself. College. It's allowed me a chance to discover who I really am, and I thank God Lance is going to have a chance to also experience this.

He will be a Ram, wearing hunter green and gold, and he will wear it well.

Congrats, class of 2010.

 

It’s finished.

You can't be connected with God until you're at peace with who you are. –Rob Bell, SexGod

I am sitting out in my backyard—and I have been for the last 2 hours—reading, playing with the dogs, and really, just taking it all in. My backyard is small, but still comfortable, with room for Buddy and Georgio to run around, for various plants and trees to grow, and of course with room for our patio, complete with a grill for some serious BBQ. I can't help but chuckle as I glance at Buddy's dog house, out hottub, and my clean, cool glass of water—is this really my life?

I just spent over 4 months drinking water from sketchy sachets, opened by biting a corner and spitting the plastic out of your mouth. When I really felt like living big I would buy a liter of water in a bottle, usually from Voltic, and would spend the rest of the day justifying my purchase of a water bottle (1 cedi) instead of "pure water" (the sachets) for 5 pesewas.

Now, I can literally walk to our refrigerator, place my clean glass in the square outside the freezer door, push a button, and voila! Ice. Clean. Water. Unbelievable.

I expected the adjustment to be difficult. And, it is. More than difficult though, it's simply hard to reconcile.

After running around town yesterday doing errands—walmart, the phone store, the gym, starbuck's—I kind of feel like I am living a double life. These two worlds, West Africa and the United States of America, are just that drastically different.

I kept looking for tro tros on the road as I drove my own car for the first time in a long while.

I had a panic attack upon entering Wal-mart. I literally walked around for 10 minutes, unsure of what to think.

I gasped when I realized my Starbucks drink (venti iced chai latte with soy) was the equivalent of 6 cedis.

And, on top of everything else, an old high school friend who I ran into after doing bench presses at the gym, proceeded to ask,

"Ohh! Africa! I'm so jealous. Did you like, hang out with the tribes?"

I just stood there, with a blank look on my face, sweaty from a rigorous hockey workout, wondering if this was just the beginning to a long road of immersion back into America.

The good news is this.

Now, more than ever, I am connected with who I am. I am connected here. I am connected in Ghana. I am connected in Hendrix.

For the past few years, I have been soul-searching. I'm nowhere close to finished—hello, this is life, after all.

But sitting here, in the cool Rocky Mountain sun, I can't help but feel more comfortable in my skin than ever before previously—which I think says a lot, because I have often enjoyed being myself. I have this inner peace, this acceptance of me. I know my quirks, my problems, my shortcomings, my gifts, and my dreams. The good, the bad, the ugly. I don't feel like I have to prove myself. I am who I am, and I found a lot of that peace by moving half way around the world.

I guess, what I'm trying to say, is that even with this weird, confusing, hard, and stifling experience of coming home from Ghana, I feel able and ready to handle it. God's given me the gift of perception and perspective with my time in Ghana, and I can feel it.

I don't know how I got so blessed. I don't know how I got so lucky. It is overwhelming to believe that yes, Ghana, actually happened. And, it won't be easy being here after living for an extended amount of time in Africa. But, I suppose it really shouldn't be.

So, I am trying to embrace it, to find beauty in coming home, and to simultaneously share with others what I found in Ghana. People just don't know. But, maybe I can provide a little figment of knowledge and experience.

So, I will close my eyes and see the night market, Kissemahn, ISH, and the crazy streets of Accra, show my pictures, tell of the incredible people I met, and honor the beautiful journey I have just returned from.

With sharing, I can share a part of me. Who I am is irrevocably changed. So is my worldview. There is value in differences though—an opportunity to learn. To cope with being back in America that's what I will do.

I will teach and I will learn.

Because, certainly, coming home is a two-way street.

Is there a better bet than love?

Dad and I sat at our kitchen table tonight for almost 2 hours. Everyone else was out and about, so we decided to just sit down and talk for awhile.

I felt grown up, I'm not going to lie.

Maybe it was that I was drinking a beer with my dad.

Maybe it's because I still feel the 21 euphoria.

Maybe it's a little of both.

More so though, I think I'm feeling more grown up, at least in my relationship with my dad these days, because we've grown closer. After everything with Lance, it's like God has brought a new appreciation for each other in our family. Dad and I have spent so much time together this break, and I have learned a lot about my dad. I can talk with him about anything it seems, and he feels the same way about me. He told me so.

I've always admired my dad in a special way, but since he's opened up about what he feels about God, what he loves about being a teacher and what he struggles with in teaching, and the regrets he has in life, it's like a whole new dimension has been created in our relationship.

We talked about things going on in his classroom, and it was fascinating. I have so many memories of going to school with my dad and watching him teach, and he was always so good at it. He likes to be Mr. Tough Guy by punishing students with pushups, but more than that, he genuinely cares about his students. We talked about kids in his class that are on welfare. Kids in his class that are trying hard are barely passing. He is in a dilemma with many of these kids, and I felt grown up in that he was confiding in me for advice. What do I know about the classroom? About high school kids barely making it? Yet, he wanted to know.

Even on my birthday, up in Blackhawk, he told me I could ask him 5 questions. These 5 questions could be about anything. Specifically, things I have always wanted to know about my dad. He vowed to answer fully and honestly. He just said, "Heather, you're 21. You are growing up. We can talk about things as adults now."

I can't reveal the questions or the answers, as I was sworn into Newell secrecy.

Let's just say it this way—there is a very clear reason I am the daughter of Edward (Ted) Lance Newell.

We're crazy.

We're weird.

But, we love life.

Chances are only what we make them and all I need

Friends, family, and acquaintances have been constantly asking me about Ghana, about the University, and about what exactly I will be doing in Africa.
And that's more than understandable, expected even.

My dad likes to joke that he isn't sure why I so badly want to go abroad when I already study abroad in Arkansas every year. Hahaha. But really. This is quite a leap from Conway, Arkansas.

I have had moments of foolishness, it feels like, because I don't have all the answers.

They ask what my classes will be, what the conditions are like of where I am staying, of the places I will see, of my roommates, of the culture, and of the food.

It's inspired me to try and figure out exactly what I am doing and where I am going.

I can tell you this:

• The University of Ghana is considered the most prestigious university in West Africa
  
• It was founded in 1948 as the University of the Gold Coast, originally an affiliate with the University of London
  
• Approximately 42,00 students attend the University of Ghana
  
• One graduate was the current President of Ghana, John Atta Mills
  
• Accra has a tropical savanna climate
  
• If you want dining and nightlife head to the well renowned Osu neighborhood in Accra
  
• Chicago is the sister-city to Accra
  
• Ghana won its independence in 1957
  

As you can see, I know very little. These are just a few of the facts I know about Ghana.

When I tell people of the upcoming adventure I may throw some of these around to provide a little bit of reassurance. I also tell them I try to take social work classes, I remark that I really want to join a sports team, and I conclude that my activities outside of school may include working in an orphanage.

I am always sure to note that I do know one of my best friends, Rachel, will be right there along with me. If nothing else, this crazy ride will be shared between us, our own experiences, and yet the opportunity to learn from each other as we experience something difficult to vocalize. I've noticed that once I say one of my best friends will be there, there always is a sigh of relief. A support system, a friend. This, above knowledge gives more reassurance than anything.

So here I am. About to go to Africa.

Maybe it's becoming more apparent that I don't know exactly what I am getting into.

And yet, this is what I wanted. You can never really know what life has in store for you, but with the University of Ghana, I literally do not know. Deep down, I like that. I like not knowing. I like going into something with no expectations. So much of life is rooted in expectations. This isn't bad. In fact, necessary at times. But this time, there are no expectations. What will happen, will happen. It will be hard, I can imagine, to truly embrace this. But ultimately, this is my goal.

As I try and describe the experience I am about to have to others, it has become so clear to me.

You can't know a place until you GO.

I can tell you all that I read in my orientation packet, or maybe what I read from Wikipedia, or possibly what Amanda told us just a few weeks ago. But, until I go, all we have is speculation.

Who knows what is about to happen. My heart is ready. I feel ready. When the plane touches down in Accra, Ghana everything will become real. More real than I might even comprehend. I am going to pray for balance, for patience, and for strength. With these, I know God will help me to understand the weeks ahead. Through good, through bad, this adventure is about to become a reality.

Peace.

    

Lines & Walls

I feel myself closing off

Which says a lot, since I feel like all I ever do is let people in

It is easier to shut people out, you know

The baggage you carry can just fall by the wayside and you don't have to deal with that stuff if you really don't want to

You can draw the line

You can put up a wall

And I've done that before 

Hasn't everyone?

Aren't relationships often filled with a variety of walls meticulously placed to cover any flaws we are afraid will emerge?

And for me, those walls came crumbling down when I decided that that isn't any way to live

I have nothing to hide

I am who I am

And If I'm on guard, I pray I let it just come down

Or If I keep walls up, God willing there is a reason

Can you really ever know everything about someone?

Can you really know everything about yourself?

kids

I am lucky. Every morning or afternoon that I decide to take a run here in Colorado I often have clear skies, perfect temperatures, and the mountains as my backdrop.

When I am on my runs my mind does one of two things. On some days it might be running in circles, thinking about everything I could possibly think of, while some days my mind finds balance, and I don't think about much at all.
Three days ago it wasn't one of those days where I had a peaceful run. My run was spastic; I really was all over the place. Some of that was due to the issues Lance has been having, some of it was rooted in dealing with an assortment of emotions after finally being home and leaving Hendrix, and actually some of the thoughts that circled in my mind were about what I wanted to do with my life.
I've spent a lot of time trying to find the perfect descriptor, the perfect way to encapsulate what I want to do after college. I've been looking for the right label, the right career.
And just like clothes and everything else in life, labels just really don't work for me.
I don't really know what my future is going to look like. I can admit that. I do know, with full certainty though, that whatever I do after Hendrix, kids will be involved. I've got a lot of learning left to do, but in my nearly 21 years of life, many of the moments that stand out have been with kids. It's also true that these moments with kids has brought new insight into my life, with some kids teaching me more about life than I could ever learn on my own.
On the corner of Colfax and High Street turn right. Park 2 blocks away. That way, you can get in a nice brisk walk to clear your mind. You will pass an elementary school on one side, and one of Denver's historical districts on the other. Scratch that. Before you really see the historical district, filled with Victorian architecture, you will probably be distracted by the fading homes along the sidewalk. Not quite projects, but not quite comfortable living, it's hard not to wonder what it must be like to live in these Capitol Hill Apartments. You will walk in and immediately head to the third floor. This will lead you to the family area section of the Gathering Place. Smile at the women you pass in the stairwell. You can't imagine the battle they are fighting. When you enter the family area, the colors are vibrant, toys are everywhere, and there is laughter. This laughter comes in the midst of pain, loss, and fear—more than I could really ever understand. Yet, there is laughter, and the kids seek this.
I seek this too.
Lizzy, Janet, and Jesus taught me how to love God even when it is hard to comprehend the trials we all face in life. The prayed with me—in Spanish and English—and made me feel a part of their small family.
Betty showed me how to be a friend. She especially showed me how to smile and how to be kind always.
Ezekiel, even though just being a little guy, taught me how far a hug can go. Ezekiel means "God will strengthen" and I always felt my spirits lift when I was in his presence.

Being with kids has always been easy for me. Okay, that isn't completely true. How can I forget the crazier moments, the moments that made me want to scream? I've watched kids who cry the minute the garage door closes, I've had kids hide from me, and I have also dealt with rather intelligent kids who try and bribe their way out of bedtime. So, it hasn't always been easy. But even with the kids that are less than delightful, I still find myself wanting to be with them, wanting to help them.

Kids love easily and want to be loved back. That's what I want to do, I think. I want to just be in a position to love—to show kids out there that someone does care. I want to help kids know that they too can get an education. More than anything, I want to assist them in fully realizing their potential. Somehow, I want to show kids the strength they have inside, and how they can use this in life to find their calling, to reach their dreams.

I don't know what you call that.
But, it may just be my calling.

This is what I was thinking as I glanced up at the endless sky, more blue than I have seen in quite a long time. No, it wasn't a day that my run was calm, smooth, and effortless. My calves were spotted with a mixture of dirt and snow, my legs were sore, and my mind was buzzing. But, I guess when you think about the things to come, about what to do in life, and about the blessings and opportunities God provides, it's hard not to get just a little excited.

Betsy & Janet at TGP

http://www.the-gatheringplace.org/

Dear Lance

I hate that you don't see what I see.

I find myself frustrated that you believe so much in others and can't even believe in yourself.

You're in a rough place right now—trying to bounce back from your seizure and trying to battle depression at the same time.

I wish you could see what we would do for you.

I would do anything—as would everyone in our family—because we love you.

I don't understand it, and I'll be the first to admit that.

But I do understand this—you will do (and have done) great things.

You words hurt sometimes. They sting like hot coffee in my mouth early in the morning. And yet, they are just words.

You can do better and so can I. We all can. We all will.

You inspire me. You are capable of overcoming anything. This time will be no different.

I love you.

Heifer

Arnold Palmers are my favorite drinks.

I am weird.

I want to be a social worker when I grow up.

Mexican food is my favorite.

I feel loved.

I dream of going to Italy.

My favorite thing in the world is laughter.

My name is Heather Newell.

My favorite movie is the blind side.

Banana Cream Pie is the best dessert ever!

Green is my favorite color.

I am from Aurora, Colorado.