Can I ask you a question?

One of my roles at Christian Legal Aid this semester is to answer the phones. Many of our clients have mental issues, and this one woman I spoke with on Friday raised some red flags. After giving a several minute monologue about all her issues, her legal problems and her emotional struggles, I told her that she should come in to speak to one of our attorneys.

She asked how much it cost.
I explained that she would have a ninety minute appointment with an attorney for free.
She said, "Can I ask you a question. Why do you do that?"
I was really stunned. I didn't know what to say.
Her question will stay with me for a long time.
It speaks to a loneliness, a lack of faith in society, and a mistrust for anyone or anything that seems "too good to be true." Indeed, I could not agree with Joseph Allegretti more- for most criminal defendants (and for nearly all of the poorest clients), "the criminal act itself (or legal problem) is just the tip of the iceberg, beneath which are more basic emotional, economic and spiritual problems."

I am constantly guilty and completely unworthy of throwing the first stone, "will you stand by this person, this flawed and sinful human being, and speak a word in his behalf?" - this is the question true advocates answer with a bold "yes, of course."

So can I ask you a question?

The question is not "why do you do that?"

Why do you represent guilty, or why do you help the poor, it is why doesn't everybody?
Quoted Material from, Joseph Allegretti, The Lawyer's Calling, "Representing the Guilty."

surely this is not THE Jericho Road

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

“What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”

He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.”

“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”

But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

 In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead.  A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side.  So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

 The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

-Luke 10:25-37

At the end of the street where I lived in Madrid, the same man sits on this corner of concrete that forms the entrance to a metro station. He has folded cardboard on this little corner to form a seat. When I started my walk around 8 am, he wasn't there, but by the time I came back in the afternoon, he was there. He had the same quick little remarks as I walked by, "hello pretty" or "good afternoon!" and a smile on his face with his metal cup in his hand hoping I would put in some change.

In my twenty minute walk, I made only three turns. On the main road, after passing this first man, I also passed another woman who sat in the same spot every morning. She never spoke, she just had her little dish sitting there waiting to be filled. As people walked by, she would make eye contact and follow them with her eyes as they approached and as they passed her.

By the time I walked home, she was still there but she switched to the opposite side of the road. An accordion player, who always started conversations with me at the stop light where he sat, joined the commute. A few times there was a man in a very ragged suit who had a cardboard sign that just said "I am hungry." He stood about two blocks after the accordion player. Yet another man, also sitting with a cup in front of him, sat in between them.

Several mornings, I walked just inches away from a man's "home" where he kept his suitcase of belongings and was wrapped in a blanket on the same step of a car dealership. He was always gone by the afternoon. I never saw his face. Sometimes in the afternoons, a man would be on one of the street benches, barefoot, with beer cans under the bench, sleeping. I wondered if it was the same man or two different men.

Surely, this road, this road that I walked everyday isn't THE Jericho Road. Oh no, it's not possible because its Calle Isaac Peral. Its not called Calle Jericho. Surely this is not where I am called to stop and ask how am I to help? Surely, I am not the Priest or the Levite who walked by heartlessly, who walked by without caring or noticing. I noticed!

I don't have any change.
I don't have coins, nor the ability to bring about change. 

Is the parable about giving each of them money everyday as I walk past them? Is it asking me to make them all breakfast or lunch, or provide them with groceries? Is it merely telling me that I cannot be hard-hearted and ignore? The one that had mercy inherits eternal life- I have mercy on them! Is the parable about teaching me that these people are PEOPLE, they are humans with stories and struggles, who deserve someone who advocates for them, someone in their corner, someone to help them? Is the parable only about guarding them from my judgment or ensuring I do not turn up my nose thinking I am greater than them?

I want to believe that the parable has real, rich requirements for me. Its just so much easier to think that the only Jericho Road I've been on were on "mission trips" or when I've actually tossed out a few coins or offered whatever food I had in my purse. 

Today, I write to admit that I realize I take the Jericho Road everywhere. I want to be the Good Samaritian, I just don't always know exactly what that means. Thus, I am, in fact, the lawyer who asks Jesus for some clarification. Who says, yes, Teacher, but tell me, where is the line? What must I do to inherit eternal life?

So, what Jericho Road takes you to work every morning? To the gym? To school?
What does that mean to you?

"On the one hand, we are called to play the Good Samaritan on life's roadside, but that will be only an initial act. One day we must come to see that the whole Jericho Road must be transformed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed as they make their journey on life's highway." - Martin Luther King Jr.

France Meets Italy

When I first devised my scheme to go to Madrid and all the little pieces fell into place, it was a big discussion between Brian and I on how to have a nice European vacation at the end of the summer. Brian was in London all summer working for a firm.  I've been incredibly happy and proud of him working at one of his dream jobs. He had been to Europe before, but there are still many missing pins on his map, just as there are on mine. I wanted to go somewhere I had never been, and this limited our options just a bit. For unknown reasons, we wanted to go to the beach. You are thinking to yourself, "who doesn't want to go to the beach?!" But you are probably forgetting, if I actually "live" anywhere, I "live" in California, on the beach. I drive just over thirty minutes everyday to school ON THE BEACH. So in June when we started planning this, it seemed a little ridiculous to plan a trip centered around beach time. It's actually pathetic how little I make it to the beach in California, and knowing that Madrid would be sweltering in July, we forged ahead with our plans to have a beach vacation. We decided on the French Riviera and booked our flight roundtrip out of Nice. 

Day 1: Get into Antibes, France (between Nice and Cannes) and go to its little sandy beach. We had a nice lunch, explored the old town, and then ate a delicious meal in this little bitty restaurant where we understood about 10 words on the menu and ordered at complete random. It was Brian's favorite meal of the entire trip. 


Day 2: We went to Cannes, had a luxurious beach day at a little beachside resort. Although public transportation in the area is extensive, we didn't really have the best experience. Without fail, every time we needed a bus, we walked up as it was driving away ensuring that we waited the full time and really rocking our nerves. We also had great difficulty finding bus stations as the lines were under construction and bus stops would randomly get moved. We were also never in the same place long enough to really figure it out. Cannes was our first taste of the multiple nightmares the Cote d'Azur buses provided, and the video of us running frantically down the street after a bus in our bathing suits is probably already on the Internet somewhere. We had dinner in Antibes. 

Day 3: After a morning stroll around Antibes, we went into the Picasso Museum where Picasso spent four months of his life cranking out a ton of sketches and art. A whole new taste of Picasso, and extra special to see it almost like a private showing without any one else in the exhibit while we were there. We left Antibes and moved to a new hotel in Villefranche Sur Mer, which is between Nice and Monaco. We took a very scenic bus route from Villefranche Sur Mer to Monaco, where we explored our way to the Monte Carlo. I was really mesmerized by the yachts. I just do not understand owning a yacht. I don't get it. But they are nice to look at! Monaco was beautiful and it was a lovely afternoon, followed by a spectacular dinner on the water in the harbor in Villefranche Sur Mer. 

Day 4: Grand tour of Nice, we gawked at the Chagall museum, explored Nice, roamed around the Negresco Hotel like we were paying$1500 for a bed that night, and spent the entire afternoon at a little beachside resort. We were really horrified at the huge rocks on the beach, and couldnt imagine how anyone managed to grow up thinking such a rocky beach was "the beach." I had never been parasailing, so Brian and I went "flying" as they called it so we could see the awesome views of the entire Riviera from the sky. So much fun! We finished the day with another great dinner along the water in the harbor in Villefranche Sur Mer. 

Day 5: I had one last beach day in Villefranche, with its small little pebble beach. We had a big lunch and shopped around the little town before making our way to Nice to fly back to Madrid. 

Having just been to Cinque Terre in October, I loved experiencing the French side of the Riviera. Its really just a bigger, more commercial, and grander scale Italian Riviera. The food is a dream- French meets Italian... all the best of each. YUM. I cant imagine a better cuisine than authentic crepes, gelato, tiramisu and creme brulee on every desert menu. All my favorites! I still prefer Cinque Terre, but the French Riviera was an absolute delight. I'm pleased to say it was the perfect combination of traveling and exploring, cheesy tourism and pure relaxation beachside. Also, not lacking in romance! I'm a lucky, lucky girl! Enjoy the photos.

Living in Community

While I lived in Madrid, I had the pleasure of living in a beautiful apartment decorated in photos and collected items from all over the world in the heart of the city. I had the joy of walking to my classes each morning, and soaked up every second of hearing the city buzz, watching the people interact and feeling a completely rare joy in my daily commute. 

My old roommate and dear friend, Cande, and her boyfriend, along with the visits of several friends ensured the apartment was never empty. My first week there her brother was visiting, and overlapping with his visit was another friend. In the four weeks we were there together, it truly felt like a home. There was always a meal being prepared, someone doing laundry, something to discuss, and an open bottle of wine. I've had great roommates and I have great friends. I have two years of stories from living in the sorority house. But this apartment in Madrid was something else. It felt like truly living with a sister, everything is everyone's and all responsibilities are shared. One's burden is felt by all. I learned to cook new meals, I laughed until I cried sitting at my place at the the table, and I had days in the last few weeks where I did absolutely "nothing" at all except enjoy doing nothing. I have deep love for the people I met in Madrid, and great appreciation for all the things they've taught me. 

I leave Madrid sad. I know that a great year is ahead. I know that I have only one year left of law school and that I cannot just stay in Madrid forever. But July 2014 will be the month that I reminded myself of a great city where I truly feel at home. It went by too fast. I met new faces and spent delicious quality time with favorite faces. Certainly, some of my favorite memories were in Madrid's streets, and other favorites happened in that apartment.  I am already looking forward to the next time I chirp, "Hasta luego!" Because with Madrid, it is just that - "until later;" it is never goodbye. 

Hope.

Do you remember the client that had the greatest impact on my summer in Rwanda? 
Well, hold on tight because this post holds little back. 

She was kidnapped, raped repeatedly and locked in a home where a candle caught on fire and burned her so badly her legs had to be amputated. Through counseling with her mother, we learned that she barely survived the genocide in 1994 and was staying in a shelter when a Ugandan man started "caring" for the women and giving them money. In exchange, he raped them. Jaime's mother was basically a sex slave for this man. When she got pregnant with Jaime, she stayed but hated suffering the man's abuse. When she got pregnant again, she finally left and left Jaime behind with her father.

When you watch the video, you see Jaime tell her story. She doesn't talk about the case, or about the intricate details of just how horrible her childhood was. She speaks of God's ability to instill hope when it seems it is lost forever.

I met her mother and father, who both abandoned her. Baraka, who speaks in the video, counseled with both of them and her father has actually been to visit Jaime and has helped financially support her. An incredible feat! I worked on her legal case against the two perpetrators. I met the principle one who kidnapped and raped her in court, and have never felt such a strange and disgusting feeling. The first guy claimed that he was under the age of criminal liability and caused us to go find his birth certificate. He was actually around 40 years old. As a legal strategy, we ended up asking the court to join the two men's cases together so that they would point fingers saying, "the other one did it" and that the Judge would see they both should go to jail for a long, long time. I do not know the outcome of the legal case, and it isn't relevant. I share this video with you because you prayed for her, because you prayed for me and my heartbreak after we met, and you pray for the incredible work that IJM does. The people and places in the video are REAL to me. I share it with you so that for four minutes, you have insight into IJM, into the emotionally charged nature of this kind of work, and into Rwanda.

Her smile is real, her hope is palpable, and her courage is astounding. I think its very possible no other client for the rest of my legal career will touch me like she did.

Please share her story, I know that I always will.

My original blog post when I first met Jaime: http://defineyourdestination.blogspot.com/2013/06/from-field-into-field.html

To read more from IJM and to donate to IJM's incredible life changing work: http://ijm.org/jamies-story