The Hunter-Bowman's Blog

Universal Mother > Family Update

2009-01-28T15:36:00.004-05:00

Sunday January 25th

Today I listened to a persecuted woman, mother to mother. Idia, the wife of disappeared pastor William Reyes, held Amara on her lap as I fed my 10-month-old (!) a late lunch.

“…Since the disappearance (of my husband William) I´ve held firm in my commitment to our ministry. Even though the mission told me to, I haven’t wanted to leave…”

Amara discovers she likes the cream of carrot soup that I prepared for her, and stops twisting around to pull at Idia´s long, tight ringlets.

“…Maybe our town isn’t even on the map, but our people are wonderful... I was unwavering in my determination to stay, but this changes everything. They tried to take my daughter!”

Amara looks up at the sound of Idia´s gasp. She watches as Idia´s face contorts and tears escape her. I gesture to take Amara, but Idia holds her tight. “No, please…keep feeding her.” We resume.

“…The same man who showed up at the church and demanded that the church secretary tell him our home address tried to kidnap my daughter…´“Is that a picture of your family? You´ll come with me, and I´ll show you your father…´ She escaped.”

Idia shudders and comes up for air. She pauses. Smiling widely at Amara she shares, “Children are my weakness. I used to provide childcare because I love them so. My son was fair like Amara when he was young.” The cloud passes over her face again.

“I want to leave. They can torment me, but I can´t bear the harassment of my children. If something… I want to leave.”

After the meeting and before going into the street I took special care to wrap Amara snuggly to me in the carrier, but it wasn’t until I was putting her to sleep for the night that Idia’s fear and perilous circumstances took hold of my heart’s imagination. What must it be like for the birth giver to feel the life issued forth torn from her care? I held my beautiful little girl as she nursed peacefully, her body fully relaxed on mine—trust, her small hand on my breast—sustenance.

In Colombia, as in other places with life-adverse conditions, giving birth is an act of optimism and faith. I’m told that it wasn’t until recently that Colombia ’s purveyors of violence intentionally involved children in their deeds. Now it is clearly a cruel, calculated strategy of manipulation and trauma induction. The images of dead and maimed children in Gaza play before my eyes. The beauty and power of motherhood ravaged, taunted. Women through history who experience the violent loss of their children must know a profound kinship.

Tonight I began doing my job as a universal mother.

* * * * *

Life is more balanced, but there’s not time for personal writing the way I once did. Now I update my facebook status instead of blogging! But here´s a short family update.

Jess is a wonderful father. It’s a gift for me to learn to know him in this capacity. He continues to enjoy his work with Witness for Peace, but the recession has hit the organization hard and there are difficult decisions to make on the horizon. He travels more this year; he returns from Venezuela tomorrow. The WfP committee tasked with dealing with the financial crisis will meet in DC the weekend of February 7th, the weekend we are scheduled to move into a larger apartment (with hot water!) a few blocks from where we are currently. The timing isn’t ideal on that front, but it will allow him to visit his Dad who slipped on ice and was badly injured, and we have a caring, generous community that will help with the move.

As for me (Janna), the classes I’ve taken so far have affirmed my decision to return to school, specifically seminary at this point. I take one distance course from a US Mennonite seminary and one from the Colombian Mennonite seminary each semester. Limiting time as coordinator of our human rights and peace monitoring program is an ongoing challenge; the original idea of half-time is an impossibility. The challenges are many, not the least of which is the snowball effect of the documentation program: the more people learn of the possibility to speak their truth, the more limited our ability to respond to victims´ universe of needs in proportion to the stories recorded and the desperate needs shared. Tensions easily develop in this environment.

Trite but true, it’s hard for us to believe how quickly Amara is growing up; we’ll celebrate her first year on March 11. She provides endless entertainment and great joy. She “dances” in time to music (her Colombian identity staking its claim). She quickly scoots out of site, only to peak out and wait for the “peak-a-boo!,” and gives very wet kisses. She delights in industriously throwing soil from the houseplants. Her first words appear to be, “hi daddy!” She squeals with glee and looks at those gathered around the table as we hold hands before dinner.

Here's wishing you could all join us around the table to be buoyed by Amara’s exuberance, to pray healing for the many broken hard spots, and to give thanks for all that is right.

Peace and hope,
Janna

Unarmed Civilians Assasinated, Reported as Insurgents

2008-10-31T20:52:00.008-05:00

(As on Justapaz website)

Editor’s note: Pastor Reinel Martinez serves with the Ebenezer Evangelical Community church in Cesar, Colombia. He was in Bogota last week to speak out about the death of his brother at the hands of the Colombian military.

“If no one speaks out, the violence is going to continue. Someone has to give voice to what is hidden. May the anger and grief produced by this absurd death serve to stop the killing.” – Pastor Reinel Martinez

On Wednesday Pastor Reinel Martinez spoke out about the October 1, 2007 disappearance of his 23 year-old brother, José Ulises Martínez Medina. Jose was apparently another “false positive,” the term used to describe military homicides of civilians killed, dressed in military fatigues and armed, and then reported as subversives downed in combat. Pastor Martinez says that accompaniment from Justapaz lawyers provides the strength he needs to break the silence a year after his brother’s disappearance.

Jose left his professional military career as counterinsurgency soldier behind in late 2006 “because what he had to do was not coherent with his religious convictions,” according to Pastor Reinel. Upon leaving the army Jose served as a young adult leader at his church and worked in a recycling center. He was killed, allegedly by Colombia´s armed forces, about a year later.

An army acquaintance who was still in active duty had convinced him to go to Bogotá and pick up his last military paycheck. A second active duty contact gave him a lift from his home in Cucuta to Bogotá, a 12 hour drive. He never returned. Official reports leaked to the family show evidence of the Armed Forces´ responsibility in the murder. Several days after José Ulises left for Bogotá the military reported him as a guerrilla killed on in combat. Pastor Rienel recalls through tears the pictures of his brother’s corpse dressed in guerrilla camouflage.

In the last year Colombian nongovernmental organizations have registered more than 535 extrajudicial executions and more than 800 since 2002. The pattern repeats itself across the country. The United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, Navi Pillay, asked the Colombian government to provide results in the investigations of military personnel related to the executions. Last week, human rights and church organizations publicized the trend in public events and a press conference in Bogotá. Pastor Reinel did multiple interviews with TV news and print media.

Moments after Pastor Reinel´s interview aired on the midday news he started receiving phone calls from friends congratulating him on his bravery for speaking out. Not everyone will be so pleased. “I know that I may be putting myself at greater risk. Speaking out about my brother’s senseless death may lead me to my own, but someone must stand up and say ‘stop!’”

Extrajudicial murders in Colombia were front page news in Thursday, October 30, New York Times. That article and others in the main stream press do not consider these “false positives” a military strategy, but rather report the civilian body count as a tactic for military personnel to win favor and rise in the ranks in this counter-insurgency war. This is true, but it glides over a deeply disturbing national trend that signals political responsibility at a higher level in the military chain of command. For example, according to his family José Ulises essentially retired as a conscientious objector, deeply troubled by what he had seen and what he was expected to do “in the line of duty.” The responsible parties went to a fair amount of trouble to orchestrate the disappearance. They were after more than a corpse. Jose represents those victims considered "dangerous" by the political and military establishment.

A second victim type characteristic in the false positives are the socially marginal and "disposable"--such as the homeless and young men with police records from poor neighborhoods. Extrajudicial executions provide a mechanism for both purging of these "problematic" members of society and winning favor with military superiors.

This rise in extrajudicial executions may not be the result of an official, albeit secret, government policy. That is not necessary. It is part of political culture understood and assumed by those operating within the government system. Colombian President Uribe’s flagship program is “Democratic Security,” a public policy of “achieving peace” through a military approach based on killing. The recently changed reward system which gives incentives for producing downed guerrillas is only a part and the false positives only an indicator of the result of this public policy.

The fact that Colombian President Uribe fired 27 army officials allegedly involved in 23 “false positives” from a slum of southern Bogotá is a positive step. But even identifying who is giving the orders will not curb the trend. The cases in the news are not aberrations, but rather the calculated result of a policy. The products will not change until the orientation and strategy fundamentally change.

One of the hot-button questions in Colombia right now is the effect of the U.S. presidential election outcome for Colombia. Regardless of who is elected, they are likely to support a military strategy to bring peace. This is counter to the way of the Kingdom of God. It is wrong. It may lead to the defeat of one of the parties, but it won’t bring real and lasting peace. Human rights training is good as it ameliorates the damage (as does firing the 27 army officials), but it does not solve the problem. Pressing Colombia’s military to adhere to international humanitarian law is a step forward, but it still misses the point.

When the political culture affirms peace through killing, death will be the result.

Beyond the Headlines & on the H-B Homefront

2008-10-31T20:47:00.001-05:00

Friends and family,

Greetings from the Andes . As I write this chilly Sunday evening, Jess is off giving a radio interview on the indigenous march (see below) and congested Amara is finally sleeping soundly. Having a precious daughter means less personal time, so I’ll share a smattering of highlights from our family life and peace ministry with telegraph-style brevity (hopefully).

Beyond newspaper headlines:

v Tierralta, Cordoba (northwest Colombia ) is the municipality where the government and paramilitary leaders brokered a disarmament and reintegration agreement for an umbrella paramilitary group in 2004. You´d hope that the physical location of the peace talks, a sub-tropical setting of small towns and large cattle ranches, would reflect something of the desired results. Unfortunately, the ongoing threats, assassinations, and forced displacement of local church leaders speak to ongoing paramilitary operations in collusion with government officials and armed forces. I’ve been working with local church leaders and international partner organizations to shed light on the alarming situation to our constituencies and the US State Department, which has been highly responsive. Click here for more and an opportunity to repond.

v Colombian indigenous communities in northern Cauca (southwest Colombia) and the sugarcane workers on strike in the neighboring province of Valle de Cauca are asking for an honest dialogue with the Colombian government to address the serious social problems they face. Rather than listening to the concerns of these marginalized communities, the Colombian government- backed by U.S. military funding—has responded with repressive force. Jess is keeping members of the US Congress abreast and helping Witness for Peace call for action to stop the repressive violence.

v On September 25th Pastor William Reyes was traveling back to his home in La Guajira (north east Colombia ) from a neighboring province when he disappeared. No, it was not a whimsical magic act. He had called his wife to report on his travel progress earlier in the day, and he has simply not been heard from since. Idia Miranda, Pastor William Reyes wife, is still waiting to learn the whereabouts and fate of her husband. Forced disappearances are a regular occurrence in Colombia . The victims are taken by one of the armed groups—most often by government forces or the paramilitary. But not always. Click for a sample letter if you’d like to respond. Through accompanying Pastor’s Reyes family we’ve learned about other horrific situations. This perverse tragedy has stayed with me: a pastor’s son was disappeared last year. She heard nothing until just last month when the government investigative unit reported him as killed in combat by the army, who claim he was a guerilla. Problem with the story: the military reported him killed before he disappeared from his home.

On the home front:

v Have I mentioned that we love Amara? Today my grandma asked me if Amara was well-timed. I never asked myself that before, but I am unspeakably grateful for her presence in our lives now. How could I ever have anticipated the depth of joy, sheer happiness and fierce love that I would feel for our daughter? She keeps the calculated cruelty and repression that we deal with from penetrating my bones as it once did. Her laughter, babble, squeals of glee and affectionate pats display the Sacred’s smile and make our days pretty.

Going to Bogota ’s lush fruit and vegetable market with her is my favorite Saturday “chore.” As we approach our vendor friends they greet Amara by shouting, “The Princess has arrived!” “Look, our baby-doll Amara is here!” Yesterday one elderly vendor acknowledged that Amara is good for business, since she attracks potential customers to her stand. A few video clips are available on Jess' utube channel.

v Trip to the heartland, Decade of Servant Leadership Award. I’m still overwhelmed by the generosity and support of the Bally Mennonite church community (and beyond) that made it financially possible for our family to travel so that I could accept the Goshen College Decade for Servant Leadership Award. (Note: There is something uncomfortable, at least, about personal recognition connected to the suffering of others.) The whole experience was humbling and a great fun. My effort to articulate the essentials of what Colombia has taught me and my invitation to GG students is available here, in the acceptance speech.

Trip Highlights: Amara met her Aunt Maria and great-grandparents Witmer for the first time! Lively theological and political conversation around kitchen tables with family and the GC community. Being back in the classrooms, sharing with current GC students and alum about Colombia . Enjoying Amara with family.

An update would not be complete without noting that Jess is pretty excited about baseball season and I’m thoroughly enjoying my seminary classes! Our lives are well balanced. Our cups are full and running over. We give thanks.

Thanks for staying in touch, for your friendship and caring shared across the miles.

Janna

Faith in the Midst of Cruelty. Decade of Servant Leadership Award

2008-10-20T14:12:00.005-05:00

Goshen College awarded Janna the Decade of Servant Leadership Award during homecoming weekend, October 3-5. Thanks to the generous contributions of several dozen friends and scattered community members, all three of the Hunter-Bowmans traveled to Goshen so that Janna could receive the award and to spend time with family.

Since a few people have requested it, here is Janna's statement shared at a GC chapel.

Oct 3 2008
Faith defined by hope and courage in the midst of cruelty. That’s what attracted me to Colombia, South America, a country of contrasts in the midst of armed conflict. I had graduated from Goshen just months before I left for Colombia. The Goshen College core values resonated with me then as they do now. We are Christ-Centered, passionate learners, servant leaders, compassionate peacemakers and global citizens. I was freshly equipped with a social science tool kit, a burden for a hurting world and a fierce determination to be part of the solution. I was captivated by the radical peace witness of Colombia’s Mennonite Church.

In the six years that I’ve worked in Justapaz, the justice and peace ministry of the Colombian Mennonite Church, I’ve held various jobs. I established a sister church program. Later I monitored the impact of the 5.5 billion dollars US military aid package best known as Plan Colombia. Currently I coordinate a national human rights and peace monitoring program.

We record stories of victimization and make known the war crimes suffered by non-Catholic Christian communities, complementing the work of sister Catholic organizations. It takes personal interviews to gather meaningful testimony because phone lines may be tapped and e-mail is not secure. For many, the government’s formal procedure for receiving testimonies of abuse is neither trustworthy nor safe.
Actions perceived as questioning – and therefore challenging—civil order and authority, be it formal or informal, are grounds for harassment and persecution. This includes public criticism of government authorities; assisting war victims and social organizing for peace movement building. These are all forms of nonviolent resistance, as counseled on the Sermon on the Mount.

We also highlight the acts of resistance and constructive alternatives to violence implemented by church communities. Through sowing and living out “seeds of hope,” churches are agents of transformation in the midst of armed conflict. These efforts aim to contribute to a culture of respect for human rights and a nonviolent solution to Colombia’s ongoing armed conflict and profound social injustice.

There are consequences for challenging the ruling powers and seeking social transformation. I have friends who are living under death threats and others who have been killed.

I’ll share a few stories. Investigators have officially made no progress on either of the following cases.

First, one that affected me personally. On June 14 of last year, intruders entered through the roof, disabled the alarm system, and stole two computers from Justapaz. One was mine. What they apparently wanted—given the items of value left behind—was highly sensitive information on war victims, those who document the cases, and local churches working for peace. The hundreds of victims who had dared to share their secret truths with us feared reprisals for speaking out. The volunteers who take risks to document cases were the most likely targets after the political theft. But in their words, “these are the consequences of following Christ in an insecure environment.”

Fear used as a political tool was denied its victory. Justapaz stood firm. “We are convinced that we have no choice but to work toward true reconciliation, not only in this case, but in the thousands of life-stories of violence and victimization that have taken place.” (Justapaz communiqué) And, praise God, we have not experienced additional harassment.

The outpouring of responses from the international community was decisive. Colleagues from other organizations that do not enjoy international support have suffered additional break-ins, attacks and personal death threats. Many of you were a part of that response that contributed to the grace we now know. Thank you.
I want Colombian sisters and brothers “walking through the valley of death” to know that same grace. The advocacy component of our program aims to intervene in individual situations within a longer term goal of just peacebuilding. Emblematic cases highlight failed government policies we want to transform, trends we want to reverse. Or, in the following situation, individual stories shine through the political smokescreen aimed to ensure the continued flow of funds to the government of Colombia and its political and economic elites.

Second case. Location: steamy tropics of Tierralta, Cordoba in northwest Colombia. Tierralta is the site of negotiations between the government and leaders of the paramilitary umbrella organization AUC held in 2004. (The paramilitary are an illegal armed groups on the US list of terrorist organizations.) Date: Events occurred between February 2007 to 2008.

Paster Rosendo was hunted down by four heavily armed men, allegedly rearmed members of a paramilitary group that had formally laid down their weapons and reintegrated into civilian life. When the police went to his town to “investigate” that same day, they travelled in a vehicle owned and operated by the paramilitary commander responsible for ordering his assassination. Later two of his neighbours were killed. Death threats persisted. Pastor Rosendo, his wife and their children eventually fled for their lives.

The widow of a related case said: “…We are fearful that everybody is at risk, because we have dared to speak out and denounce what happened … Now if we go back to our community, I fear we won’t come back alive.” Additional information and action response sheets for this situation are available at the exit. I invite you to participate. Vox victimarum vox Dei: the voice of the victims is the voice of God. Identifying with and responding to people who bear the brunt of violence, enflamed by our government’s official policies, is a meaningful way of being church. I’ve learned that it’s not a matter of “struggling for” the oppressed, the victimized. In important ways, we are the oppressed. In the post 9-11 era we are more aware than ever that our fates are interconnected. Our salvation is intertwined.

Walking with my Colombian community that willingly, passionately “carries the cross” is a privilege. Sharing in their joys and struggle is deeply fulfilling. The faith modelled by Colombian Mennonites has provided a provocative personal and political theological home for me. It invites and challenges a fresh interpretation of personal and social transformation based in Jesus’ message—the Kingdom of God present, Here. Now. Victims who are also prophets inspire hope in Jesus who embodied God’s passion for justice and wholeness in all things (or shalom).

That is something of my passion. What is yours? Identifying your passion will lead you to your truest vocation and the most fulfilling way to live your core values.
Ask yourself, what am I willing to live and die for? According to Hebrews 11, Faith is being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you cannot see. Find your faith; live inside your hope.

Where is injustice that tears you apart? Don’t run from suffering; go to her. Walk alongside the affliction that makes your blood boil. Let it hurt.

Take risks. Colombia has much to offer GC and its students, and I hope you come to us again. But Colombia, as a geographical place, is not for everyone. But do cross over. Live beyond the half-truths and cosmetic facades shielding you from the brilliant light of Life that exists most brightly at the brink of death.

Go to the place where suffering and hope meet, and live there. Perhaps you, like me, will find your salvation where the two meet. But, and this is important, discern and speak truth in community. This is very different than the peace Rambo approach.

And so I modify the words of Audre Lord that hung in the sociology/anthropology department when I was a senior when I say, “When we dare to be powerful - to use our strength in the service of our vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.”

Through living Hebrews 11-style faith in community, circumstances change.
To students and to Goshen College, I say:
Find your passion.
Cross over to the heart of suffering.
Live in bold hope.
God is with us.

Pastor Disappeared, Action Requested

2008-10-11T21:38:00.009-05:00

Urgent Action: Pastor William Reyes Disappeared

Commission for Restoration, Life and Peace and Justapaz

Urgent Action

Pastor disappeared, action requested.

We are very concerned for the safety of Pastor William Reyes and other members of the Fraternity of Evangelical Pastors of Maicao (Fraternidad de Ministros Evangélicos de Maicao - FRAME). Last Thursday, September 25, at 10 AM Pastor Reyes left Valledupar, Cesar, for his home in Maicao, La Guajira in northern Colombia; he never arrived. Reyes ministers in the Light and Truth Church (Interamerican denomination) of Maicao and is a member of the Pastors’ association (FRAME) – which has received repeated threats from the paramilitary, the FARC and other illegal armed groups since March of this year. Pastor Reyes’ wife, Idia Miranda, is the FRAME secretary. Pastor William Reyes and Idia have three children, William Reyes Miranda, 19, Luz Mery Reyes Miranda, 16, and Estefania Reyes Miranda, 9.

Human rights violations of church people, and of the civilian population at large, are ongoing in Colombia. Last year the Justapaz, Peace Commission Documentation and Advocacy program registered the murder of four pastors.

We ask you to send letters to:

* Express your concern;

* Request government action to locate Pastor Reyes and

* Solicit protection for Pastor Reyes’s family and the members of FRAME.

See model letter below.

Action Requests: Political Advocacy and Prayer

Communicate with Colombian governmental representatives (see sample letter). Ask that the Colombian government:

* Provide all necessary safety measures for Pastor Reyes’ family and for the members of FRAME. (See my comment/question.)

* Carry out a timely investigation and take the necessary steps to bring to justice both the material and intellectual authors of William’s disappearance.

* Carry out a timely investigation and take the necessary steps to bring to justice those responsible for the threats against FRAME.

Pray for:

* Well-being of Pastor William Reyes and his family.

* Safety of the members of the Fraternity of Evangelical Pastors of Maicao.

* Wisdom in discerning next steps in the midst of violence and a politically adverse climate.

* Recognition of the error of their ways, repentance and reparations of damage committed on the part of the responsible parties.

--------------------------------

Model Letter:

Dear :

I am writing to express my deep concern for the safety of Pastor William Reyes, his family and the members of the Fraternity of Evangelical Ministers of Maicao (FRAME). Pastor Reyes pastors the Truth and Light Church (of the Interamerican denomination) of Maicao and is a member of FRAME – which has received repeated threats from illegal armed groups since March of this year.

Pastor Reyes departed Valledupar, Cesar for Maicao, La Guajira at 10:00 a.m. on Thursday, September 25, and has not arrived or been heard from since.

We ask that you take all steps necessary to locate Pastor Reyes and to protect his family and the members of FRAME. We also ask that you ensure swift and thorough investigations of the threats against FRAME. Those responsible should be held accountable for their crimes.

Sincerely,

--------------------------------

Send letter(s) to:

Fiscal General (Attorney General)

Mario Iguaran

Fax: 011-571-570-2000 ext. 2017

Email: denuncias@fiscalia.gov.co

Gobernador de La Guajira (Governor of La Guajira)

Jorge Perez Bernier

Fax: 011-575-727-5007 (ask for fax)

Emails can be sent directly from here.

Comandante del Ejercito Nacional (Commander of the Army)

General Mario Montoya Uribe

Fax: 011-571-297-3107

Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad - DAS (Administrative Security Department)

Maria del Pilar Hurtado Afanador

Fax: 011-571-408-8400

Email: quejas@das.gov.co

Hector Mondragon, Praying with the Psalms

2008-09-14T21:48:00.005-05:00

Friends and family,

We are deeply concerned. Attempts are being made to link Héctor Mondragón to the FARC guerilla movement in Colombia's paper of record, El Tiempo, which has reported on alleged e-mails to Héctor found on the computer of assassinated FARC leader Raul Reyes. Héctor, a Mennonite economist dedicated to the cause of the poor, is a good personal friend. He works closely with Colombia's indigenous and small-scale farmers (campesinos). He speaks passionately and writes prolifically on connecting the dots between the social political violence suffered and multi-national economic interests underlying the current armed conflict. In Colombia, good work does not go unnoticed. He is a survivor; he was being tortured around the time I entered the world.

Colombian Mennonite Church President Alix Lozano writes:

Héctor H. Mondragón has been a member of our church since 1994, that is, 14 years. We have known him as a Christian not only committed to the cause of Jesus Christ, but also to Jesus' teaching and example of nonviolent love. ... His positions towards the government as well as toward the insurgent groups have been clear. ... The Colombian Mennonite Church rejects any attempt to link one of its members -- and in this particular case Héctor H. Mondragón -- to any armed group or any violent practice or to slander his/her name, which as we all know, is also extremely dangerous for the life and security of any person in this context. (Click here for the full statement; aquí para español.)

You can also read Héctor's response in his own powerful words in an essay called "My choice for civil resistance" (aquí para español):

Those who know me know very clearly that I am not part of the FARC (Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia), because I disagree with their strategy, their political line, and their methods.

For 18 years, I have publicly and privately differed from the FARC's strategy. That strategy is centered on the role of the guerrilla converted into a revolutionary army, through which the people can seize power and transform society. ... It has become a tragedy for popular struggles. It has permitted the strengthening of the extreme right, which today is running the country. Not only has it failed to stop the displacement of hundreds of thousands of peasants and Afro-Colombians, but it has actually exacerbated that process, and even provoked the forced displacement of indigenous peoples in various parts of the country. ...

Since 1994 I have opted for a personal commitment to nonviolence as the way to contribute to radical social change. I renounced the use of arms in self defense under any circumstance. I got rid of two revolvers that I had legally carried since I had been threatened with assassination ... I stopped working with bodyguards because I did not want to save my life at the expense of another. I ended up abandoning all routines, and thus the possibility of a stable job, in order to avoid being assassinated. I believe in the struggle for radical social change, but I believe it must be accompanied with a radical change of method, the abandonment of armed struggle and the abandonment of the notion that the end justifies the means. The radical means of nonviolence can help us reach the objective of truly radical social change. ...

It is not about replacing one corrupt, right wing government with another. It is not about exchanging one set of gangsters for another, so that our friends can rule instead of our enemies. It is not about demonstrating "governability" without meeting the basic needs of the 80% of Colombians who live in poverty. Colombia needs deep changes, especially on the land and in its relationship to the transnationals. And the only way to win these changes is to deploy the widest civil resistance, to construct alternatives from the base, and to have massive and committed civil mobilization. Absolutely everything I have done in these years, every single day, has been to work towards this with all my strength and all my experience.

Today, I still carry wounds from the torture that I suffered in 1977 and also from 20 years of being threatened with death, pursued by the paramilitaries. Sometimes I lose hope, especially when I know that some of my friends have been killed. I ask myself why continue in this struggle with indigenous people and peasants, why not give up. But then I am struck again with the passion for the people I love and the certainty that they deserve lives with dignity, and solidarity. They failed to kill my body but today they are threatening to kill my words, and I feel it like a re-opening of my old wounds. But the word is a seed and it grows, whatever happens, in the peasant on the land, in an indigenous person in her territory, in Afro-Colombians returning to their communities, in those who live in the popular neighborhoods of the cities who will eat better after the land reform that we will win, in every working family that will get a just wage for work, there the word will live. They won't be able to kill it.

A call to action may be forthcoming. For the time being we invite you to share this concerning turn of events and pray. Héctor writes, "I remain firm in prayer and many have prayed for me as well. They sustain me. (Me he aferrado a la oracin y muchos han orado por m. Me llegan muchos apoyos y me sostienen. )"

New video of Amara

2008-08-23T22:00:00.002-05:00

Developments.

2008-08-12T08:35:00.007-05:00

Amara. Our five-month-old picks up her rattles and shakes them with enthusiasm. Soft “ahhs” and “coos” that sound fresh from Eden are old news; she provides running commentary in confident gurgles and babble with loud, shrill sounds for emphasis. Most endearingly, she eagerly returns smiles to fawning admirers and belly laughs with her parents.

On the homefront. Jess is now on his parental leave, which affords ample time to be with Amara and indulgently practice being a news junkie. Reenergized by four months of maternity leave, I’m enjoying my return to Justapaz. I’m working part time and taking two seminary courses. We are deeply blessed by our time as a family.

In the news—and what doesn’t make headlines. Developments on Colombia’s political front are more complex and less charming and benign than Amara’s. The dynamism of the moment makes it hard to comment on this critical juncture without providing a skewed picture, but I’ll reference a few developments.

The rescue mission of former presidential candidate, French Colombian citizen Ingrid Betancourt, three US contractor workers and 11 Colombians gave Colombian President Uribe a major popularity boost. Colombia Gallup polls put his approval ratings at a record-high 86 %.

On the international scene, even news sources like the Guardian and the BBC seem to be reporting on Colombia through a new rosy glow for this administration. As noted in my last letter, the euphoria incited by the rescue mission was a collective experience in Colombia. But reflections should move beyond that moment.

Two comments related to developments of the famous bloodless military mission of 15. One of the army commandos admits using the Red Cross emblem and two others confess posing as TeleSur news journalists during the rescue mission. These actions put real journalists in danger and may jeopardize the important work of the Red Cross in the Colombian conflict. Masquerading in this way represents violations of International Humanitarian Law.

Secondly, the warranted enthusiasm has clouded from view an important fact: we are still in the midst of an armed conflict. While the FARC are clearly weakened, one impressive rescue mission does not tip Colombia over the precipice into the post-conflict phase. Reports from the regions testify to the continuation of war, albeit a different stage. The documented cases volunteers from around the country send to me—of active (never demobilized) paramilitary, demobilized narco-paramilitary, rearmed demobilized paramilitary, collusion between the aforementioned actors and state actors, extrajudicial murders and FARC and ELN guerrilla violence—tell a story different from the Colombian and US official versions.

On to another subject. What have you heard about the 14 paramilitary leaders extradited to the US on drug trafficking charges? As formally demobilized paramilitary, they were being processed under what is known as the “justice and peace law” and were in the midst of hearings. Their confessions, partial at best, of macabre acts evolved to include naming ties with the Colombian government and international corporations. Testimonies revealed strategies, intellectual authors of crimes and kingpins of paramilitary structures. These truths fed the “para politics” scandal and, at that moment, the Uribe Administration effectively cut off the hearings by allowing the US to whisk them off to be processed for drug trafficking. It left me sputtering—what? As the 14 para leaders are now under US jurisdiction, they are only being tried for drug charges and not for the countless instances of torture, homicides, and other war crimes committed. As noted by one Colombian analyst: “The ex-narco-paramilitaries’ revelations about their partners in crime ended up being subordinated to the narcotrafficking proceedings, and their “truths” turned into bargaining chips for sentences even lighter than those anticipated under Law 975 (the justice and peace law).”

But they may not even be the big winners. As the notorious paramilitary leader from north-western Colombia Ever Veloza García, alias “HH,” said in a radio interview last week, “the only ones that won are the rich of this country. The ones who invested in the war, who paid money for us to kill.” In an interview available on Y-tube he affirms that “the majority of the people who died in this war are innocent.” In another radio interview he shared “how the security forces coordinated the movement of troops and helped us move weapons. We paid them to give information and cooperate.” The memory stick of disappeared paramilitary national capo Carlos Castano that he turned over to investigators reveals secret police information and correspondence outlining political violence squarely indicting State officials. “HH” has reiterated his plan to share the “full truth” before his extradition to the United States. But will he be given opportunity “to tell the truth about why the victims’ relatives died, where the graves are, and who participated” before then? (I would love to have him over for dinner before he’s extradited.)

But HH does not describe a grizzly chapter of Colombia’s past. Important changes are underway, but paramilitary structures still exist and violence continues. This is history in the making.

One victim of the paramilitary exclaimed at church last week—“I feel like I’m being white washed from history. But look, touch me, I do exist!” (What will be history’s verdict on US intervention in these affairs?) Many more victims are arriving to the church door. Very painful.

This same Afro-Colombian victim also voiced concern about a possible third term for Colombian President Uribe, a hotly debated issue currently. Running for reelection again would mean changing the Colombian constitution for a second time. (He did so once to run for a second term, which he won handily with the help of illegal deal-making with a Member of Congress.) If he decides to run he would likely win, but what would be the political costs internationally?

A Colombian friend and pastor recently returned to her country of origin after several years in Bolivia and Costa Rica. She says this of the current political climate: “I’m so deeply discouraged and frustrated. I don’t understand my people. Why are they going along with this obvious lie? Where is this taking us? Down the wrong path, that much I’m sure.”

I opened this section noting that it’s challanging for me to provide concise, complete commentary on current situation. Violations of rights to life have gone down over the years. But is that an indicator of a sustainable, improved situation? Civil liberties have been cut, and the violence has changed forms.

We are in the midst of a high-stakes power struggle. Justapaz and others call for truth, justice and repentance (explaining the intrigue and, yes, hope inspired by HH for me personally). Yet the ruling powers aim to consolidate relationships and structures cementing status quo and the dominant economic model, turning at least some former “instruments”… “of the rich and powerful” (HH) who are bulking at movement to silence them into enemies of the powers that often direct(ed) their world.

Ok, had enough of Colombian politics for now? Do what I do now. Take a break. Laugh with Amara. This, my friends, is a healthy development. (Missed the link the first time? Click here.)

peace and hope,
Janna

Amara laughs

2008-08-12T06:39:00.002-05:00

Amara. Black and White

2008-08-10T21:29:00.009-05:00

Ingrid, three US contrators, and 11 others free!

2008-07-03T10:04:00.001-05:00

This blog post was edited to match Thursday's version provided for "God's Politics," available by clicking here.

Its been months since I´ve written anything about the current events in Colombia. But I can't let "the hug the country has been waiting for" slip by without comment.

My infant daughter Amara and I were at the deli counter when the news broke. A current ran through the grocery store causing eruptions of joy. Ingrid Betancourt, former Presidential candidate, the three U.S. contractors and 11 others kidnapped by the FARC guerrilla group were freed this afternoon.

See reports in The New York Times and Colombia´s paper of record, El Tiempo.

An hour later as Amara nursed, I listened to interviews with mothers and other family members of the recently released. Ingrid, beloved symbol of the kidnapped, was held captive for more than six years. The U.S. contractors for more than four. A number of the Colombian uniformed officers released were kidnapped over 10 years ago. The visceral responses to the electrifying news of freedom doesn´t lend itself to tidy sound bites for radio interviews. The sobs and exclamations were beautifully stirring. Upon delivery to a military base, an emaciated Ingrid gingerly climbed down from the plane and fell into her mother´s embrace. She choked, "no more tears, mommy." I squeezed my little Amara tight.

The rescue is being hailed as an "impeccable military operation." According to news reports, Colombian intelligence infiltrated the FARC leadership and not a shot was fired in the rescue mission. If media sources are accurate, the Colombian military essentially tricked the guerrilla into handing over four of the highest profile kidnap victims and 11 soldiers and police. Human Rights Watch congratulated the military for carrying out the rescue without any civilian causalities or otherwise violating international humanitarian law.

By all accounts this largest and oldest guerrilla group in Latin America is weakened, and clearly the Colombian military is at a strong point. The U.S. has helped to ensure as much. These military achievements are in line with U.S. military strategists´ application of an El Salvador model in Colombia. As such, the FARC would be forced to the negotiating table. But at what cost, paid in human lives and quality of life?

Ingrid exclaimed, "this is a sign of peace!" Could it be? While this was an intelligence and not a military rescue in the traditional sense, recent events force reflection on my values and sense of the fundamental direction of history regarding military solutions. As is common, many of the jubilant declarations praising the military with religious overtones created dissonance with my beliefs, principles and politics: "Glory be to (Colombia´s military) intelligence! Glory be to the army soldiers!" ... "God blessed (this rescue operative), but not just God, Uribe blessed it! Yes, long live Colombia ! We are winning the war!"

As a Colombian army general noted, the mission could have turned out differently. At the risk of sounding like the relentless critic, the 15 hostages and the operatives who bore great risk to rescue them could all have been killed. Had the scenario played out differently the FARC may not have experienced yet another humiliating blow. Colombian President Uribe´s reelection campaign would not have this huge boost.

The threat of destructive force as an immediate strategy remains a problem. Military successes could lead to surrender and even armistice, but they should not be confused with lasting peace. As we have experienced with the paramilitary process, a settlement between the warring factions that does not provide for truth and justice, repentance and forgiveness may betray Colombia´s populace. A formal resolution that does not prioritize education, health, housing and other investments will not deliver the conditions necessary for dignified life for the majority poor. In the midst of the collective euphoria sparked by the release there are many questions. Which are the right ones to be asking?

Ambiguity and ambivalence aside, I am jubilant with those reunited with family once again. I´d hug the three U.S. military contractors myself, if I could.

It is wonderful to share good news from Colombia on the armed conflict front!

Amara on vacation

2008-06-09T23:06:00.036-05:00

Amara met some Hunter/Wallace cousins, aunts and uncles in Aruba thanks to Jess' family and frequent flyer miles.

Amara and I have worked out an arrangment allowing us to enjoy what we both love. I assume that Amara, too, benefits from our intellectually stimulating nursing sessions. Two favorites from my maternity leave reading list: Jesus, Uncovering the Life, Teachings and Relevance of a Religious Revolutionary (M. Borg), The End of Memory, Remembering Rightly in a Violent World (Volf).

Jess' creative shaving inspired gaugy Aruba tourist outfits for the whole family. The funniest part was that was did not stand out at the airports.

Amara and I enjoyed our early morning hikes on beaches, across sand dunes and through the island’s wind-swept desert interior.

Amara's sacred "Yes"

2008-05-21T15:42:00.003-05:00

For the game of creation, my brothers (and sisters), a sacred “Yes” is needed. -Niezsche

Colombia becomes a different place when experienced through the lens of a newborn child. Amara’s life is not burdened by the knowledge of injustice, haunting regret, the memory of impunity, or the pain of torture inflicted.

Colombia is a fresh, dew-sparkled world to be explored.

(photo caption: Amara thoroughly enjoys being diaper free. The effect of her newest smile/ squeal/ nose scrunch combination is curiously reminiscent of a highly pleased piglet.)

With the exception of kicking with the freedom of nudity, Amara loves nothing more than going for walks. She peers out of her carrier with her hands clenching the outer swatch of cloth, her eyes wide and her mouth in a perfect circle. She’s impressed.

The world is observed with awe, until the newness of this vast place overwhelms and baby Amara falls into a peaceful sleep.

Smiles and coos convey her content as she “converses” with us. She trusts. When she cries, it is because she is needy. No manipulation or false pretenses. While she is not a placid baby, many little ones are innately what Colombians would call “uncomplicated.”

The child is innocence and forgetting, a new beginning, a game, a self-propelled wheel, a first movement, a sacred “Yes.” For the game of creation, my brothers (and sisters), a sacred “Yes” is needed. (Niezsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra)

Amara provides a new lease on life in Colombia.

At a time when I was tired and settling into a lens of painful memory, Amara’s smile and “sacred ‘Yes!’” came to us from a creative place untouched by offenses and suffering. I’m sometimes amused by how happy I’ve been lately as I experience life anew with and through her. But besides a new mother, I’m a human rights defender. I’m dedicated to recording wrongs and keeping alive the memory of injury in a land of impunity. Reports urge readers to Pay attention! Remember! The experiences of my new identity question my former self. What is proper remembering? Would there be any such thing as divine forgetting in Colombia, even after the guns are silenced? My current thought is that forgetting would be naïve, cruel, unjust, perhaps even impossible, before God’s Kingdom is (more?) fully realized on earth. Even these questions would have felt like high betrayal of victims before Amara appeared on the scene.

It’s lovely to slip into Amara’s world untainted by evil, but how to strike a balance? How to honor “the memory of wrongdoing needed as an instrument of justice and a shield of injustice” and simultaneously “…reach towards the world of love” which is reconciliation? These are the words of Miroslov Volf, author of “The End of Memory: Remembering Rightly in a Violent World.” He’s spurring on my thinking these days while my little teacher nurses, as evidenced by the white spray across the book jacket.

Time for an abrupt transition, as the little one is stirring. Thanks to little Amara for this opportunity to focus on a dimension of Colombia accessible through a slower pace and new-life lens.

Here are some more pictures of my little teacher and sweet pea.

Above: Waking smiles. Jess and I may have a harder time than she does when Amara leaves our “family bed.” You can imagine the joy and love springing deep within when waking to this smile.

Above: With Deb, Zach and Johan Landis-Lewis. Overlooking the Guatavita lake, a water-filled meteor crater into which Muiscas indigenous young men plunged covered with gold dust as a rite of passage.

Above: Babes from the Tuesday morning play group through PROCREAR, the home birth "with dignity" organization that has accompanied Amara through it all. We both love it, right Amara? ...Yes, she is the pink, wailing baby.

Above: Amara coos and squeals her delight with this Infant Stim-Mobile ® , making me a believer in age appropriate toys.

Amara's May 1, Labor Day in Colombia

2008-05-21T15:29:00.008-05:00

This message was composed May 1

Friends and Family,

In celebration of the social and economic achievements of the labor movement, here are a few images of the focus of my efforts, our source of great joy and endless amusement. It's no longer a mystery to me why some women choose to withdrawal from their career tracks to be w/ their children.

Today Amara, Jess, June Hunter (Jess' mom is visiting!) and I went downtown where thousands were participating in the annual Labor Day march/protest. A few rabble rousers showed up and challenged the police, "damaging the march," according to one Afro-Colombian organizer. A scuffle ensued. The tear gas stung. During the rowdiest moments of her short life, little Amara woke only momentarily to give me a perplexed look and then returned to her deep sleep. Her parents and "Nonna" were relieved.

As per the norm, even in her slumber and tucked into her "moby" carrier fair-skinned Amara with her button nose drew much attention. Frequently heard comments: "look, it's a real baby!" "she doesn't even look real!," "looks just like a doll!" One woman actually confessed that she thought to herself, "my, that woman is a little old to be carrying a doll around." (Confession: While Amara is likely unaware of all attention, it may be going to her mother's head.)

A note on the pictures. I took them last weekend, when Amara was 6.5 weeks old. Three failed attempts at purchasing a camera led cousins Aaron and Laura to loan us theirs for a weekend. We really appreciate it! (Yes, three times we've tried to give businesses our money so that they send us a camera, and no dice.)

A happy mom,

Janna

Amara at one month-- birth story and top 10 list

2008-04-14T22:19:00.002-05:00

In celebration of Amara’s one-month birthday, April 11, I’m sharing an abbreviated version of her birth story, a post-partum anecdote and an Amara top-ten list.

Thanks for indulging us!

Janna

PS. We were relieved of our camera, so there is no picture to accompany the update or new photo/video entries on the blog.

Amara’s birth story

We are grateful for a quick birth without complications and, most importantly, a healthy daughter. Labor and delivery felt very natural; I confess that at the time it was nearly anti-climatic. (“What, it’s over? But I didn’t even get to employ my well-rehearsed pain management meditation.”) My body knew what to do for this astonishing miracle and I was prepared to let it. For me the beauty of Amara’s birth was in its natural simplicity and intimacy—Jess and I together ushering forth a new family member where this new life began. But the reactions of others to the story, especially the improvisation necessary for this fast home delivery, have influenced how I’ll remember Amara’s entrance into the world this side of the womb.

We were at home (as planned), so there were no rushed trips to the hospital, no drugs, and no medical personnel buzzing about. I felt peculiarly calm and relaxed. It’s true, however, that the doctor didn’t arrive until after Amara was born. Consequently, there was no medical equipment or pool for a water birth as planned, and Jess served as assistant to the midwife. His role included tracking down a pair of sterile surgical gloves at 1:30am and cutting the umbilical cord with our all-purpose kitchen scissors. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

On Sunday night we went to bed excitedly timing the first contractions. We thought the long-anticipated day had arrived, but although they continued throughout the night the surges were generally mild and irregular (first 3 min apart but later at 15-20 minute intervals). I walked into the office with Jess on Monday morning and stayed until co-workers sent me home a few hours later. (“Janna, caramba chica, I’ll just die if your water breaks at the office! I’m going on maternity leave now if you don’t go home immediately!” to paraphrase one 20-something colleague.) The first strong contraction surged on my walk home, directly in front of the well-established post of a shoe-shine man. I resisted the urge to lie down on the grass and instead leaned against a tree and breathed deeply while he looked on with notable concern.

The contractions gradually increased in frequency and intensity throughout the day and early evening. Around 9pm managing the surges started to require my full attention. The “birth affirmations” shared by Goshen College women friends and supportive words from Jess hung around the apartment. These pronouncements of strength and embracement of the contractions became my mantras. I created a path through our rooms, walking from sign to sign, repeating their messages and concentrating hard on my breathing.

I called the doctor when the contractions were 3 to 4 minutes apart, around 11 pm. The call to his cell phone went directly to voicemail. Jess called the midwife and, after listening to the description of my state, she said that she was happy to come over, but that I was still early in labor and suggested we call back after reaching a few bench marks or in an hour, which ever came sooner. (The early morning delivery she attended the night before may have been a contributing factor.)

Determined not to be the over anxious couple on the first round of childbirth, we (Jess actually—I wasn’t talking much at this point) called her back an hour later. Every call to the doctor went directly to voicemail. I had unequivocally strong urges to push and the intensity of seemingly unceasing surges bearing down on my body had taken my mind to place beyond myself. I remember thinking, “wow, what my body is experiencing down there is intense!”

Out of my earshot an anxious Jess asked the midwife what Plan B was if we couldn’t reach the doctor. She said she had to check me out to assess the situation.

A powerful surge erupted as Diana, the midwife and multi-tasking queen of that night, walked into our apartment. I willed my body to take in air for Amara. Diana observed my management and said, “oh, you can still breathe through the contractions? You must be early on.” My internal response: “Didn’t we prepare so that we could breathe through anything? Really, this is hard work!” But no matter—I was just relieved she’d arrived so I could start pushing. But when I told her as much she firmly told me to resist until she checked how far I was dilated. My internal response: “WHAT? AHHHHHH!” Withstanding the urges felt about as possible as birthing a litter of kittens. Meanwhile Diana and Jess had been calling around to 24-hour pharmacies looking for someone to deliver surgical gloves. No luck. Jess called over to our doctor friend and neighbor, Carol, who did happen to have some. Lucky. He ran around the block to catch the gloves she threw from her third story apartment. Diana had us create a “nest” on our bed and checked me out. I was fully dilated. Ok, she said, you can push! Hallelujah!

It was a tremendous relief to move from management of the grinding contractions pounding my body to being an active agent in birthing our baby. The sharp sensations created through pushing her through the birth canal were welcome; they meant she was advancing. I channeled the power and determination that must unite the universal circle of mothers into those pushes. I was confident, perhaps over-eager, and knew her arrival was immanent. Amara, come to us! Meanwhile Jess and Diana continued efforts to reach the doctor.

The mother in me was born with the image of Amara’s head crowning. The sacred of creation manifest in me—my body, a channel for new life! I’m grateful to Jess for asking if I wanted to see and holding the mirror so that I could.

Amara was born at approximately 2:10 AM, about 25 minutes after I started pushing. Unbeknownst to me, the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck and she came out blue. Since the cord was still her life-line, she wasn’t breathing and didn’t cry. All this scared her dad, who tried to nonchalantly whisper “everything ok?” to the midwife. She assured him it was. Diana immediately placed the warm, wet little creature on my bare chest. My Sparkle, now a “glimmer of the image of God,” was in my arms.

The labor, from the time contractions were 3 to 4 min apart to delivery, was about 3.5 hours long. They tell me that’s pretty fast. A chagrin Mauricio, our beloved doctor who we admire whole-heartedly regardless of the circumstances, arrived about 10 minutes after Amara did. (His son had borrowed his cell phone and didn’t replace his sim card properly. Mauricio attended to a birth the night before and so was sleeping soundly and didn’t check his phone prior to dropping into a deep sleep.)

Our friends Paul and Carol (mentioned above) came over and joined the “the celebration,” as Mauricio calls it. This consisted of looking at the babe, trying out nursing for the first time, routine check-ups for mother and child, eating together, a shower for me, and clean-up thanks to Paul, Carol and Mauricio. (Having a baby at home is a messier venture than we anticipated.)

Writing this out (in snippets), with one hand as Amara is splayed out on the other arm or while she sleeps or stares into the light, helps me appreciate the blessing and beauty of our birth experience anew.

An anecdote: Janna commits unforgivable cultural violations—for 40 days.

Two days after Amara was born I wanted to get some fresh air, so our family of three ventured outside to walk to our elderly neighbor’s house two blocks away. But our door-women didn’t want to let me out of the building. With her hand keeping the door shut she says in a shocked, scared voice, “Lord have mercy, what are you doing? You are going to get sick, I have 5 children and believe me I know, please don’t go….(etc.)” Amused and slightly perplexed I promise to keep Amara’s head covered as we proceed into the 70 (plus) degree air of a sunny day. A block into our journey a neighborhood friend runs over to see Amara and relays that her mother, looking on from the window, can’t believe we’re out and about all ready. Several steps further a friend who had a baby a month before leans out of window and calls, “Hey, congratulations! When was she born?” We tell her and she gasps, “And you’re outside already? You have to take care of yourself!” We approach our destination and some friends pull up in their car. “We heard Amara was born. Congratulations! But what in the world are you doing out already? Really, you have to take care of yourself. You’re going to get sick. Please go home and follow ‘the diet.’”

By this time Jess and I are a little uneasy. Are we naïve, careless and terrible parents? It wasn’t until later that we realized everyone was concerned about me, not Amara. (We did call our doctor and he reassured us that we were behaving appropriately.) Of course we’d heard of “the diet,” in which a new mother stays at home for 40 days after giving birth, eats a whole chicken every day and allows others to wait on her hand and foot, but we thought this was a by-gone tradition of earlier generations in rural areas. Nope. (Well, okay, eating the whole chicken everyday has fallen out of favor.)

Since I’m still within the 40 day “diet” window, I am still regularly scolded for not “taking care of myself” (read: over-eat and lay motionless on a couch?!?! I would go crazy!). It goes so far as threats such as, “if you don’t follow the diet you won’t be able to have more children” or “you feel strong now, but you’ll have a bad back (like me) or aching joints (like me) by the time your 40 if you don’t take care of yourself.” The reprimands come from strangers as often as friends. For about a week now I’ve been telling folks who ask that Amara is 41 days old.

Amara top 10 list (in no particular order):

Snuggling while sleeping (J & J)

Kissing her (J & J)

Feeling her breath on our cheeks (J & J)

Watching her gaze into the light, splash in the bathtub, or just breathe…(J & J)

Her baby noises—sighs, grunts, little roars, groans and “ahs” (J & J).

Expressions and mouth formations she makes while sleeping (favorite is the smile that gives way to a baby belly laugh) (J & J)

When she stops crying after a distressed spell! (J & J)

Burping that turns into her sleeping on my chest. (Jess)

Nursing, the nuzzling that precedes it, and the way she gazes into my eyes during. (Janna)

Joy of Amara shared with friends and family. We had a wonderful visit from Amara’s grandparents Greg and Ellen Bowman and are looking forward to “Nona” June Hunter’s arrival! Numerous families in our apartment building, previously strangers, have come to visit Amara and become friends since her birth. We are deeply touched by the outpouring of love and support from friends and family, those of you over seas and our community here in Colombia. Thank you!

Bonus: Observing Amara’s daily developments—she holds our hearts in her two hands.

Short Video of Amara

2008-03-24T21:55:00.004-05:00

Here is a short video from Amara's first two weeks, including her grandparents' visit and her first official bath.

More photos of Amara

2008-03-12T10:56:00.005-05:00

Here she is...This is how she has spent most of her 36 hours with us.
From left to right, Mauricio (our doctor), Janna and Amara, Diana (our midwife) and Jess. We are so grateful to both of them for all they did leading up to and during Amara's birth.
Janna talking to her parents just minutes after giving birth to Amara.
Amara's first cry. For some reason she didn't like being naked in our cold apartment while to doctor measured her!

Janna and Amara both have a well deserved meal in bed on Tuesday.
Janna and Amara getting some sleep after a long night of labor and birth.
Mom, Dad and daughter just moments after birth.

Welcoming Amara

2008-03-11T07:23:00.005-05:00

At 2am this morning, Amara Wallace Hunter-Bowman was born in our Bogotá apartment. The doctor forgot his scale in the office, so we are not sure how much she weighs, but all signs point to a happy and healthy baby. After an incredible night, mother and daughter are asleep on the coach, getting some much deserved rest. You can see a photo of our now larger family attached.

Basking in the joy of new life,
The Hunter-Bowmans

"Everything Changes" -- The Imminence of Motherhood

2008-03-02T16:28:00.004-05:00

The profound changes

Ways of thinking change...

Everything changes

Everything changes…

And as everything changes,

That I would change is nothing odd.

As our baby’s March 4^th due date approaches, the Mercedes Sosa song, "Todo Cambia/“ "Everything Changes” has found an echo deep within me. (Click here to listen to the song. Lyrics are below.)

It’s a curious thing, this keen awareness that our lives are soon to change—dramatically. As Jess and I walk the 1.5 mile to work down a tree-lined boulevard, I see couples with eyes only for each other or striding to their destination on one side of us. On the other side, parents are pushing strollers and chasing after their little ones. Big belly, Jess and I walk between them, and I hum to myself, everything changes, everything changes…

Our friend Barbara found the “Todo Cambia/Everything Changes” refrain playing through her mind in the days leading up to her husband’s recent death. At the other extreme of the life cycle, we too find ourselves subject to the timing and control of forces beyond ourselves.

I am great with child—(you can call me “Big Janna” like my Dad does, or just “Gorda,” “Fatty” a term of affection here)—and the changes in my body are unmistakable. Nature is taking its course to bring this little human through me. Today I felt like myself, with a bounce in my step and ability to concentrate at work. There are other days, however, when the energy and creative power I once managed are directly channeled to the life within, and I find myself sitting breathless and fatigued before a blank computer screen. At these moments I rub my taut belly, and remind myself to marvel: I am the vessel for a child of God.

At one such moment I reviewed the story of a woman who went into labor as she fled an armed attack on her village. She became a mother with the help of her uprooted neighbors en route to anywhere safe. I remind myself, I am a privileged vessel as I move into the stream of mothers who carry children in this land of turmoil and uncertainly.

Colombians don’t allow tears to steal their laughter or trials to crowd-out a celebration, and our little child “made-in-Colombia” (a maternity shirt received from a friend) seems to be staking claim to this part of her identity. About a month ago I woke up at 3:30 am to loud bongo drum and Andean flute music filling our bed room from the college party held on the patio outside and several floors down and baby’s very full-body, wildly lively movements against all walls of her snug home. Sleep wasn’t coming, so after watching my jumping stomach for a few minutes I decided to join her. Somehow her Daddy slept soundly throughout.

An analyst friend connected my reflections on this phase of transition with the Colombian social and political landscape. Might Colombia also be on the precipice of change? Numerous mass marches organized by politically diverse groups, respectable gains by a political opposition party, economic and political changes in the US, and a fresh outpouring of weariness of war from civilians and inklings from the guerrilla groups, not to mention the conviction of my pastor, may suggest as much. Will I stay tuned into these developments after becoming a Mom?

I felt anxious about leaving work for months, but we have a plan for covering major pieces while I am on maternity leave. Now I need to let go and let others do the job. Releasing that baby and related identity to receive and nurture another will challenge me.

The shepherd changes with his flock…

Plants change and dress in green

with the coming of spring…

And as everything else changes

That I would change is nothing odd

The change is in progress and with it new challenges to rest with mystery and trust the God of Life and great unknowns. At play with these feelings is the raw, fierce love that I have for our daughter and our eagerness to know her this side of the womb. Anticipation outweighs anxiety.

Baby girl, our catalyst of radical change, we are excited to receive you!

Janna

* * * * * * * * * * *

The following is a rough translation of the far more lovely spanish lyrics, available here.

TODO CAMBIA// EVERYTHING CHANGES

The superficial changes

The profound changes as well

Ways of thinking change

Everything changes in this world

The climate changes with the years

The shepherd changes with his flock

And as everything else changes

That I would change is nothing odd

The direction of the walker changes

Even though this causes her harm

And as everything changes,

That I would change is nothing odd

Everything changes

The sun changes in its path

When night subsists

Plants change and dress in green

With the coming of spring

But my love doesn’t change

No matter how far I find myself.

Nor do my memories or my pain

For my people (change).

What changed yesterday

will have to change again tomorrow

Just as I change in this far off land

Jess' surgery, a kidnapping, the untimely death of friends

2008-01-15T21:11:00.001-05:00

The knee surgery saga has come to a successful finale! About 12 hours after picking me up from the airport, Jess made his way to the clinic, provincial in its 1950s appearance but well respected for its medical care, were he had his reconstructive knee surgery.

At the same time, I picked up the slightly-used tendon at the donor bank. The nurse on duty cheerfully explained each part of the tendon (see picture),

apparently to alleviate any concern that they were actually sending me off with an incomplete ligament or extraneous body part (?), and described in earnest detail how I was to rush to the clinic and direct the personnel to put it in the freezer immediately. “If this ice cube next to the tendon melts, you know you’ve not made it in time and can’t use the tendon.” Got it.

Two hours of surgery, an hour and a half of recovery and about three of unexplained waiting, and Jess was released from the clinic. (Pictured, Jess with friend Nelson who gave us a ride home.) He’s now hobbling but growing more adept with his crutches, and says he’s not in pain.

* * * * *

Jess and I were looking forward to a quiet day focused on pampering him, unpacking and organizing the baby paraphernalia that we brought back with us. But a front-page story in today’s paper shocked us out of quiet nesting activities. Alf and Ana, social acquaintances here in Bogotá, were kidnapped while vacationing in the providence of Choco, along Colombia’s pacific coast. Alf is a math professor at the Andes University and Ana a biologist.

Note: The following was written after the inicial post above.

We grieve with the Gerlach Mack and Lewis families in the face of tragic loss. John Mack died this morning in his home. He was the husband of Barbara Gerlach Mack, a dear friend and Colombia advocate. They retired from co-ministry of a UCC church in DC less than a year ago and were trekking in Nepal when John became ill.

Most shocking, we just learned that a very close GC college friend Deb Landis Lewis’ father died unexpectedly when he suffered a massive stroke in Cairo en route to Yemen where he, Roger, and Deb’s mom, Marge, were career mission workers. My heart breaks for Deb, her sisters and her mom. If only my tears could comfort far-off friends and shield them from pain.

Just last week both men shared poignant words with me in anticipation of the new life growing within, John in his dying, “burning brilliance,” as Barbara described it, and Roger in his gentle, (grand) fatherly wisdom.

We light a candle. We hold vigil through our thoughts and prayers.

And that was 2007! Welcoming '08

2008-01-12T18:49:00.000-05:00

Hello community scattered,

Somehow our road trip through Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, and DC didn’t afford the mental space and free moments to write up a year-end letter as I hoped. Taking this belly on tour required a fair bit of energy. But “joy shared is doubled” indeed, and the much-anticipated weeks with our families and friends was a precious time of honoring the Christmas story and celebration and anticipation of the birth of our child. Mary’s pondering questions at the miracle within challenged and resonated in a new way this year, but I truly don’t envy that donkey ride.

In this email:
- So that was 2007.
- With child: Breathing Deep. Laying on of Hands.
- And now, ‘08

So that was 2007. Head shakes. “Was that just this year?,” Jess and I asked ourselves numerous times in recent months. The year started out predictably—program management with delegations to Colombia for each of us, trips to Venezuela for Jess, and human rights case work and a Summer Peacebuilding Institute (EMU) course for me. Then June plunged us into new intimacy with the uncertainty of physical vulnerability, wonder and awe with the Justapaz break-in, learning we were pregnant and a hike through the Peruvian Andes. In our interior lives we continue to process the shadows and mountain-tops of that period, or maybe it’s simply the first lesson in a 40-year (?) parenting journey beginning in a land of uncertainty. In any case, we’re trying to understand how to be both joyful for the child that will come through us, si Dios quiere, and grounded in the fragility of her life (Jess’ words). Our raw, heartbreaking love for this child already overwhelms us.

During the second half of the year, Jess took on additional responsibilities at Witness for Peace during a time of staff leave and turn-over. Somehow he fairly gracefully assumed the organizational development work and additional leadership when the ED went on maternity leave while he interpreted Venezuela’s fiery, impulsive President Chavez for North American audiences. I, Janna, worked to produce and publish our human rights and peace report, “A Prophetic Call,” do media work and advocacy. Following this intense period of office work, I had the privilege of being re-immersed in the life stories—the raw, unofficial version of Colombian reality—through monitoring visits throughout the country.

Feeling the new life within grow in strength as complex, painful tales mounted provided poignant moments for these parents-to-be.

We live in grace. Being aware of as much, we wake each day to try to strike a balance between living the beauty of life in abundance and struggling so that this same gift can be spread out a little further. In looking over the year, I glimpse how our clumsy efforts within the tide of the Spirit’s movement have brought us to this place. And I give thanks.

With child: Breathing Deep over the holidays. It’s rich! To share the excitement and joy of anticipated new life with our family and friends was nothing short of a sacred delight. During the quiet of night, chatter of baby showers, and the din of raucous game playing I breathe in deeply the comfort, wisdom, faith of ages, and deep, tender caring that surrounds us. A silent whisper—“Baby, may this breath become part of the very fiber of your being, your deepest knowing.”

Laying on of hands. In the US some family members asked if I mind when people touch my rounded belly. Come to think of it, not at all! It’s such a wondrously miraculous, awesome universal phenomenon, not to mention just plain bizarre at times, that sharing our experience seems totally natural. In fact, I’ve come to receive the pats and gentle touches as a kind of blessing for the child. Prayers are not verbalized or even conscious, but through the loving laying on of hands we are nurtured.

The blessing hands: Jess’ little nephews, ages three and five, stood with their smooth little hands resting on my hard belly, waiting patiently to feel the baby’s movements...Maria, my sister, held my stomach with ringed fingers and gave the baby enough kisses to tide it over until they meet a year from now (pictured, right)…The Christian symbol of the laying on of hands occurred to me with touch of the soft, deeply creased hands of this child’s great-grandmothers…And then in a “Blessingsway” shower of ritual and support to help prepare me for giving birth, Goshen College women friends led us in a guided meditation on hands as we held and explored each others…These are blessing hands.

And now, 2008. Anticipated dates: We’ll kick off the year with a new ACL for Jess. There is a tendon to be had at the Bogota donor bank, and surgery is scheduled for Monday, January 14th. I’ll go pick up the slightly used tendon in a cooler and deliver it to Jess in the operating room less than 12 hours after returning to Colombia.

If all goes smoothly, we look forward to welcoming the babe into the world March 3 or 4th, and a series of special guests to Bogota shortly thereafter—my parents, Jess’ mom, and a first-time visit from dear friends Deb, Zach and Johan Lewis-Landis. Our neighbors will be equally thrilled by these wild times in our small, two-bedroom, fifth-story apartment with no elevator.

Joy and hope, inspiration and endurance in the year to come!

Janna

Stories and the Unanswerables, and the Listening Little One

2007-11-20T17:52:00.000-05:00

Dear community scattered,

I woke this morning to the playful movements of my baby. What a joy! Before joining workshops participants for breakfast, I narrated the sounds of rushing waters and rustling palm trees and the sweet fragrance of an orange tree grove to her/him as we walked the expansive grounds of a rural retreat center in northwest Colombia.

Field Visits: Stories and Questions. This round of visits to the five regional documentation teams is meaningful and thought-provoking. Rested and renewed since I last wrote, I’m enjoying the opportunity to listen to the anecdotes, advances and new challenges teams in the field experience. Monitoring visits mean the privilege of hearing more truths that trouble and confound. If, as we’re told, Sparkle hears my narration of the beauty of the earth, s/he also hears the difficult tales and unanswerable questions.

So many secrets, complex tales of loss and betrayal, courage and grief. Victims who are caught in a straight jacket of hate and economic dead ends become perpetrators. How do we introduce forgiveness to lives defined by cycles of loss and vengeance when external threats persist?

How do we respond to the new wave of threats and assassinations of demobilized combatants who connected to church communities, refused to rejoin the ranks and so become military targets of their former groups? How do we invite a mentally and physically armed society to lay down weapons, speak truth, repent and repair damages to the victims when peacemaking is as costly as war? The unanswerables strike the heart of faith, the root of and reason to hope and believe the “good news” of costly peacemaking.

The documentation experience in the field is varied. Despite progress in reporting, press work and advocacy, the law of silence for war victims still reigns in many cases. Fear of reprisals restricts, “and we become accomplices to the crime” one volunteer exclaims with pain in his eyes. At the same time, some victims share the relief they experience in giving voice to their tales. As we strive to improve the rigor of our interviews for precise data collection, we’re also challenged to listen with our spiritual hearts in ways that release the stories “embedded in the skin” of the silenced and inch victims to wholeness.

More than a Listening Ear and Political Advocacy? As a national documentation team, we’ve found that listening, recording and channelling stories is insufficient accompaniment. Even in a healing best-case scenario, as somewhat rosily described in the poem below, the victims are often left physically vulnerable, politically disempowered, traumatized and economically desperate. “At the end of the interview, the widow still doesn’t even have bread and panela (sugarcane drink) to give to her children!,” as one volunteer laments. Our next step for the next year is an ambitious, multifaceted accompaniment program for victims.

And now, a few disjointed notes—

Sojourners posted my reflection, “My Pregnancy and Hope Amidst Colombia’s Chaos,” and I’ve been surprised and moved by the responses it solicited. Click here to read it. The most unexpected note came from a woman who interviewed Jess for Al Jazeera a few months ago. Small world.

Click here to share in my favourite mental health break while doing computer work, the 4D ultrasound picture of our baby sucking it’s thumb. For me it goes like this: register two cases in the human rights database, flip to baby.

Prayers for Martha. Martha has been on my mind, in my heart and prayers for weeks. She’s a courageous woman in an extremely precarious situation: she refuses to cede community leadership and physical space to the forces threatening to kill her. Colombia ’s political and economic machinery backs her foes; her faith and community keep her rooted and alive, so far. As we verify information and make the necessary contacts for action plan and alert coming soon, I ask that you hold her in the Light.

Peace and hope,

Yours truly-- and the little listening one

There are stories
embedded in our skin
and words enfleshed in us,
and so may you bless us
with those who by tender touch
release the tales,
trace the lines,
free the words
one by one.
Give to us those
who will listen us
into our own language
till we are hoarse with the telling
and with the laughter
at being released
from the silences we had kept
so long.
- Jan Richardson, Night Visions

Janna shares deeply, too widely?

2007-11-20T17:39:00.000-05:00

To read Janna’s latest post on the Sojournors blog, God’s Politics, My Pregnancy and Hope Amid Colombia's Chaos, click here.

Interesting Weekend in Bogotá

2007-11-04T20:44:00.000-05:00

Belly Painting

We thought it was going to be a relatively low-key and quiet weekend. Jess' ACL reconstruction surgery on his knee was scheduled for Friday, so we thought this would be a weekend of recovery. Well, there was no tendon at the donor's bank for the reconstruction surgery and so the surgery has been postponed--for now until next Friday, November 9. The date depends on the availability of a tendon.

Instead of staying at home, we went to our prenatal class early Saturday morning. While this was Janna's third class, it was Jess' first (due to a Venezuela delegation). We had a blast as the class activity consisted of the fathers-to-be painting the mothers-to-be's belly with something representing what dad hopes to give to their child. Check out the pictures to get a sense of the fun.

Our class

Ice Storm at the Equator

We traveled to and from class in a blazing sun. It was wonderful to soak in the sun, given the weeks of rain we have had here in Bogotá. Just after noon the clouds rolled in. While we ate lunch in the living room, we watched as an unusually strong wind began to blow the trees. Soon it was raining hard. About 20 minutes later it started hailing. The hail finally stopped about 45 minutes later. As you can see in the pictures, it looked like it had snowed. It was crazy and wonderful for Jess--who always missed winter--to throw snowballs in Bogotá.

The storm did knock power about for about 24hrs and damaged some cars and homes.

The view from our window.

Our Baby at 20 Weeks

2007-10-17T19:33:00.001-05:00

Last night we went in for our 20 week ultrasound. Both of us were taken aback when the doctor switched the ultrasound over to 3-D and we witnessed our little baby stick her/his thumb into her/his mouth. What a special evening!

Why a Blog, Why Now?

2007-10-15T09:48:00.000-05:00

I’ve been tossing around the idea of a blog for some years now, but we, especially Jess, had some reservations for security reasons. However, entering the “expecting” phase of life has reoriented some priorities, and now potentially politically sensitive topics are not the only ones that intrigue or seem to merit shared reflection or snap shots. (Not that past emails all have been such, but that was the nature of the concern.) Partly as a result, we resumed the conversation, established some loose guidelines and Jess set up this Hunter-Bowman blog for my birthday. We invite you to share in our lives and times, even from afar, through it.

Hike to Machu Picchu, Peru

2007-10-15T08:37:00.001-05:00

Hike. Marvel. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. This essentially sums out our 4.5-day hike winding through some of Peru’s spectacular snow capped mountains, high altitude tundra and cloud forests. In June we met up with Janna’s brother for the fairly strenuous trek and visit to the Inca ruins of Machu Picchu. The majesty of the awe-inspiring mountains leaves little doubt as to why the Incas worshipped them. And despite the thousands of tourists teaming through the pre-Columbian Inca city, Machu Picchu is a well preserved archeological site with the mystery and reverence of the ancient civilization’s sacred center still in the air. Between the splendor of our surroundings and exertion, we were breathless much of the time.

If you have the option, perhaps don’t do the hike with a torn ACL (knee ligament), as did Jess, or while in your first trimester of pregnancy. But adrenalin is a potent stimulant and even if that does describe your condition, we’d recommend that you go anyway!

A Couple of Quick Updates

2007-10-14T15:02:00.000-05:00

Part I--Basketball and Its Consequences

Some of you may remember that Jess is part of a weekly basketball game here in Bogotá (his 5'10" frame--and approximately an 8" vertical--makes him a small forward south of the border). In July, just before the famed Macchu Pichu trip, Jess hurt his knee during Wednesday night B-ball. Last week an MRI gave us surprising news. Jess has a completely torn ACL in his right knee. We are now considering surgery--which would likely happen in early November.

Part II--Commemorating Che's Death in Colombia!?

You may have missed it, but last Tuesday, October 9th was the 40th anniversary of Ernesto "Che" Guevara's death. It was hard to miss it here in Bogotá. Jess was forced to work from home on Tuesday due to internet problems at his office. Around 1pm, National University students commemorated Che's assassination by heaving papa bombas (small, homemade explosive devices with no shrapnel), molotov cocktails and rocks at the National Police's armored vehicles which in turn attacked the students with fire hoses and tear gas. One student lost an eye in the three-hour melee. The scene repeated itself two days later, to the dismay of our house guests, Aaron and Laura and their two young daughters. (note...photos are from our living/dinning room window)

Life and times of Jess, sparkle, and Janna

2007-10-07T08:52:00.000-05:00

Friends and family,

Some time has passed since I’ve written much of an update. Life has held some milestones, challenges, and spectacular displays of beauty in the intervening months. I seem to learn basic life lessons best through slightly ridiculous personal drama, so in classic form of exceeding limits, crashing and then reflecting, I’ve learned that unsustainable life pace needs to change for expectant women, even before the baby arrives. (Note the hotlinks peppering email.)

Some experiences between the June 14^th information robbery at Justapaz and this rest :

Milestones. It was a marathon sprint to finish and publish the Spanish and English versions of the 100-page human rights and peacebuilding report, “A Prophetic Call: Churches Document Their Suffering and Their Hope.” The English version is available here. The seemingly endless rounds of violation case review, drafts, and edits, review of tallies and graphs, and translation were my focus for a few months. They became my obsession for the last one.

While finalizing the report texts, I moved into organizing the release event and coordinating with some journalists for the press work. It was “nutso!,” as my Dad would say. I did not know what I was getting into with the last-minute press campaign, but despite our lack of experience, adequate preparation and time constraints it was quite successful! We managed to position the issue of church violations and policy recommendations in the national public eye and establish Justapaz and the Peace Commission of the Evangelical Council of Colombia as resources.

Radio programs started calling at 5:40 am and TV anchors showed up for interviews the day before we were expecting them. I’m just glad I washed my hair that day. I wrote up some quick report cliff notes for the others and interview content was sound. The story was covered four times on TV news and five times by radio stations, a few with outlets throughout Latin America. Ten newspapers from around the country ran stories based on our press packet.

The high level of interest from the press was unprecedented and surprising. An unanticipated contributing factor: the release of our publication coincided with press statements from a self-defined Christian political party reporting that numerous candidates are under threat. We’re in a heated election season here in Colombia, and while there are no existing alliances (or political affinity) with the “The Independent Movement for Absolute Renovation,” MIRA, we are both part of the “evangelical” minority in a Catholic nation. So, apparently we gave each other bounce in the press. I actually don’t trust that audiences listen closely enough to identify the different interpretations of “the signs of the times” and recommendations put forth.

* * * * *

The beauty of birth and new life. During these weeks a few spectacular human glimmers, reflections of the sacred, forced me out of my head and centered me on the beauty that still springs from Eden. Namely, participating in the anticipation and then accompanying the birth of Anna Sofia in our apartment.

Some of you know that my second cousin Laura Souder, her husband Aaron Kauffman and their delightful 2 year-old Abigail live in a small town called La Mesa, just a few hours outside of Bogotá. Mennonite Mission Network sponsors their service at a Mennonite high school. We both sought out the same obstetrician who is renown (in our circles) for holistic pre-natal care and home births in pools.

Laura, Abby and Aaron settled into our apartment several weeks before the due date. I am grateful for the family stay and friendship, especially given Jess’ absence due to work travel. Highlights: Abby’s cheerful morning greetings tugged me from bleary-eyed verification of a murder testimony. Aaron put “It’s a Beautiful Day” on repeat as I translate a graph of the composite of violations—homicide, torture, death threat. Irony fueled that night’s work session. I’m gone long hours, but Sparkle and I eat delicious, balanced meals every day thanks to a very large, but always pleasant, Laura.

The birth itself was all of the wonder, little of the pain and none of the scariness that I’ve associated with labor and delivery. I was more nervous going into the labor than Laura, but three hours and two pushes later, we were eating apple crisp and admiring the little human rose bud, Anna Sofia. Learn more, see pics here. What a privilege and opportunity to witness a delivery with the same team (Dr, midwife/dula and nurse) just six months before I plan to give birth, also in our living room!

* * * * *

Challenges. I’d emptied myself into the work and thought that I would experience a sense of relief and satisfaction when this was all over. Instead I felt depressed and desperate to resolve the shortcomings of the final results. Weariness and pregnancy hormones caught up with me, but there was still so much important work to be done! So I tried to continue through the tears. Dearest Jess, friends and colleagues told me to stop. The admonition that first struck home was, “I tell you this not for you, but for the well-being of your baby.” I listened. I consulted our doctor about some of my symptoms, and he affirmed the wisdom surrounding me. Excessive work wore out this mom-to-be, and I needed to slowdown.

That afternoon I picked up a book recommended by my friend and Justapaz colleague, Paul Stucky. “Cecilia’s Sin” is the historical novel of a 15^th century Anabaptist woman who records the persecution of fellow believers. They file into her home and she records their testimony under the cover of night, by candlelight.

“ ‘The story,’ she said, impatiently, almost angrily. ‘My decision. I made it as if there was not choice to make. I chose the story over my own blood, over poor little Belikan, my own flesh. I did it so quickly. But it is my passion, Pieter.” She walked to the window and peered between the slats, pushing the curtain aside as she did, without turning around she said as if to herself, for she knew Pieter could not hear, “I hope it is my callas well.” Then, turning to face him she said, ‘I know it is my obsession, Pieter. But now you must tell me if it is also my curse.’

p. 35, Cecelia’s Sin

In the end she burns all her records—every last page-- before she is, presumably, drowned.

Where am I in this stream of women who record stories of humans hunted like wild game? On one side I have Cecilia, a martyr from 16^th Century Amsterdam. On the other, Liliana, a young lawyer accompanying victims here in Bogotá. Liliana’s organization suffered an information robbery five days after Justapaz. But the similarities end there. Unlike our community, the attacks on her organization continue: she and her colleagues suffered additional break-ins and are now living under death-threats. There is fear in her eyes and a shortness of breath when she speaks.

I think that we at Justapaz have the spiritual and political coverage of the international community to thank for the grace we experience, which allows us to continue our ministry without further harassment. Your prayers and actions make a difference. I caress my growing belly and give thanks.

These are critical moments and my understanding is weak. How to balance the cries of the victims, the opportunities to amplify voices of the orphan and the widow, with the needs of little one growing inside me? I reread Ecclesiastes 3, “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” And yet I’ve clumsily resisted Pete Seeger’s nudging to Turn! Turn! Turn! This emptiness, a little burnout I suppose, is determining some immediate aspects.

Joy growing. These days I find joy in anticipating our baby and in our nuclear family—in planning a mural and laughing as Jess talks lovingly to my stomach in an exaggerated gravely voice. (“It’s because babies can only hear vibrations at this point, but can start to recognize voices,” Jess explains, beaming.) Our reading on our developing baby also deepens the experience. I don’t know how I’d be doing without Jess right now. He’s been firm in pointing out the ridiculousness of an unsustainable workload, but loving and patient in the expressions of my fatigue, despite his own work stress. I am so fortunate.

So, these are the life and times of unconditionally loving Jess, our sparkle at 18.5 weeks and Janna at, gulp, a few days to 30 years.

Peace and hope,

Janna

Our 2-inch Wonder: Love and Fear

2007-10-07T08:36:00.000-05:00

Friends and family,

What a thrill to share news of new life from Colombia! Jess and I are expecting a baby!

The first trimester has been a time of disbelief, awe, mystery, fear, wonder, and elation. The twelve week ultrasound we had this morning shows a healthy, tiny baby with a strong heartbeat due March 3. Two weeks ago we gasped and wiped away tears as we watched our little one doing high-impact womb-aerobics. Impossibly amazing. Those first images of arms and legs busily moving about are seared into my heart’s memory.

The first three months of the pregnancy have been relatively easy. Our rhythm of life is still fast-paced and sometimes, like today, fatigue catches up with me. But nausea has given way to an increased appetite and a thick waist, and, perhaps most significantly, I’ve moved from trepidation to excitement.

I’ve decided to share my personal struggle to come to terms with a paralyzing fear of losing this little sparkle growing inside me. Conceiving life in Colombia at this time is a powerful emotional and spiritual journey. But, lesson learned: it’s one to be shared.

With delighted joy,

Janna

* * * * * * *

July 5^th journal entry

Spark of life, you entered from the undercurrent of love and longing, deeper than fear or confusion. You answered our call to the Deep. Our statement of faith, you declare that death will not have the last word. You are my defiance and hope.

Days before you came to be, our community suffered an attack that chilled me to the core—the Justapaz break-in of June 14th. It reflected intimate knowledge of our organizational workings. It ripped from our staff the ability to protect the subjects and collectors of the sacred stories shared with us in strictest confidence. It shredded our desperate desire to believe that doing nonpartisan truth-telling could continue unmolested, even as the world began to pay attention and ask, “What can we do?”

You first made your presence known to me during our meeting at the Vice President’s office. As we talked with high level government officials about the series of information robberies and their response, the director of the human rights program lit a cigarette beside me. A wave of nausea engulfed me and I felt the multiple positive pregnancy test results to be true.

As we responded to this crisis I have clung to the marvelous, mysterious knowledge you—a life inside me. In moments of weakness when dread and fear crept into the shadowy corners of my soul, you helped me chase them away and return to the steadfast hope necessary to carry-on. You are my Hebrews 11:1 baby.

* * * * *

In a striking personality reversal, Jess first wanted to share our news with family and friends. I, the extrovert and external processor, was guarded and reserved.

Nine weeks into the pregnany, and last night I realized with a sudden and emotional crash that I’ve been nursing a gnawing fear that this most intimate and precious symbol of life would not survive. My Hope could die and be flushed away in a torrent of blood, as so often happens in Colombia. If this little spark has been my faith that goodness cannot be extinguished by violent adversity, how could I cope with its loss? My fear of losing our Call to the Deep kept me turned inward with my secret.

She is a tangible, fierce life force.

She is a fragile mystery.

She is not mine and I am not in control.

I’ve long-accepted that I could be physically harmed or even lose my life in this line of service. Secure in my vocation and sense of call, I don’t live in fear. But this life growing inside of me is something new.

Nevertheless, in the past few weeks my body has increasingly exhibited signs that I’m not the only one inhabiting this vessel. During this time I’ve grow more familiar with the little spark as a Being and not just a symbol or concept. As I’ve grown to care for and love this tiny baby, the fear has subsided and quietly traveled from the center of my attention.

Even still, it wasn’t until I read one of the reflections from the Meditations for Expectant Mothers, a wonderfully, sometimes terribly, but always charmingly old-fashioned book that Mom gave me, that I realized what I’d been doing.

I’ve considered this little baby to bear my life-yearning and faith. That’s quite a burden for a bean-sized babe! “Love Casts Out Fear” is the title of the meditation. As I read it the tears began to brim in my eyes, and then I found myself sobbing.

July 9, journal entry

I journaled at the time, “An hour after reading the meditation I sit in the dark of night with my tears and hope. My thoughts are so simple I can hardly write them down,

Hold gently that which we love most.

Faith, hope and love.

I cannot clench these things in my fists, as if they were personal possessions to be hoarded in secret.

I can only live in them. I can make them our home with an open door. If they are to give life and flourish, I need to share them with my community.

How many times must Colombia teach me her lessons before I learn?

Janna, what might have been the outcome if members of the Justapaz staff had turned inward or fled after the attack? While fearful, we responded together and with an extended international network of churches and supporters.

Sharing in the hope and the vulnerability—this is the essence of being a human community living in determined faith. We hope together, or our dreams will whither in a clenched fist.

Maybe it’s just a change of hormones allowing this existential dilemma to find resolve. In any case, now I am ready to share our news—we’re expecting.”

* * * * * * * *

Aug 24 postscript note: Delivering our good news has been spectacularly fun!