It has been over a year since our return from Malawi back to the Queen City. A year! A year since I have seen the dozens of Malawian faces that I had come to admire, love on, laugh with, cry for and miss now. During my time in Malawi, the third poorest country in the world, I found myself in the unexpected role as the Interim Director for the Hope for AIDS project, which meant that I was to take care of all the financials for the orphan daycare centers and secondary school scholarships along with the AIDS peer prevention groups and AIDS home-based care groups.  Each of these areas worked out in the villages where medical, financial, and educational resources are non-existant. After a few months in, I realized the 360 degrees I had taken from sitting in Watershed’s transit service to sitting in a small, hot office in Malawi…that I literally was watching Watershed’s resources go through my hands to help feed the poor, give vitamins to the malnourished, give hope through paid school fees for students and give children, whose parents were HIV victims, an education that they probably wouldn’t have had otherwise.

My first trip out of the city where we lived was to the small village of Phingo where we had an orphan daycare center that Watershed supports. Phingo was amazing! Not only did I realize how extremely necessary it was to have a little Chichewa under my belt, but I also didn't realize how my heart would overflow with immense feelings of pure LIFE.  In a way it was a surprising feeling.  It seemed to me that poverty and death, being so blatant and unmistakable as it was, would bring feelings of hopelessness and despair.  However, what I found in Phingo was completely opposite -- the children, with their tattered shirts and dresses, facial sores, and ringworm on scalps and arms, crowded around me singing worship songs at the top of their lungs, jumping up and down and clapping their hands to the beat.  I stood there laughing with them and tried to join them in their singing.  I could feel my heart start to take over; it was like my soul just burst open with these new feelings of love, compassion, mercy, and happiness to see their smiling faces and hear their voices worshiping to God.  I could only think of the time that Jesus called the children to come to Him, and as they did He reminded the disciples that the Kingdom of Heaven belonged to those who were like the children—fearless in their faith and love!

I also accompanied the coordinator to pay the secondary school fees for the 25 students that Watershed supports in that area.  Literally it took an hour one-way off the main road, up the mountain and alongside the river to reach one school, and there was four different secondary schools to pay fees for in this region. The eternal perspective of these situations is not difficult to see and understand.  These children and students are FOREVER transformed because of Watershed's investment into their lives. It was truly humbling for me to be able to witness these things first-hand. I was able to be on both sides of these stories— one in the US where the Watershed community is giving resources weekly and another in Malawi where Watershed’s monthly support literally went through my hands to feed these children and pay for their school fees. Justice, mercy and God’s love is bringing LIFE to hundreds in Malawi because of the resources given by our Watershed community.  Thanks, Watershed! 

Written by Jamie McCollum, who along with husband Daniel, and Jonathan and Kayla George (all from our Watershed community) lived for a year in Malawi, Africa from 2009-2010.

As we talked about this together we realized there was a problem.  We really didn't know anyone living in poverty.  We started asking questions like, "How do we start real relationships with people in poverty?" and "How can we get our entire family involved in the lives of those in need?". It wasn't too long after this that we were given the opportunity to join a Hope Team through Watershed.

We are now part of a team with five others from Watershed and an amazing Hope Team Family: Mom and 4 wonderful kids.  We had no idea what to expect, given the opportunity to build relationships with this Hope Family.  Being a part of a Hope Team gives us the opportunity to move beyond supporting a cause, to building real relationships with hurting people.  We are not only learning about the difficulties of rising out of poverty, but we are learning how so many of our assumptions were not reality.  Society says this family is "so different" than us because of class, race and economic distinctions.  Yet, it's been so amazing see a bond form with our Hope Family as we are leaning to really love and care for each other.

As a team, we now have the opportunity to be directly involved in the lives of this family and to leverage our relationship and resources to help this family rise out of poverty.  The process can be difficult and messy at times, but we have hope for an amazing future!

 Music has been a huge part of my life since I was a little girl. I spent the greater part of my childhood dancing around my room, singing everything from Disney songs to Mariah Carey ballads. The lyrics, the melodies, the rhythms, the energy...I've always been moved by music.

There's a beautiful vulnerability in music that I've always connected with. Any song we've ever heard is because a risk was taken. Someone, somewhere, in some phase of life, poured their heart out in lyrics and was brave enough to share it. We find truth in lyrics, we get lost in melodies, we rock out to riffs, we bob our heads to beats- all because musicians were brave enough to share their art with us.

I'd always dreamed of being a singer or actress in a musical on Broadway, performing over-the-top musical acts in fancy costumes (and I REALLY wanted tap shoes). I realized though, at a very young age when auditioning for a middle school production of West Side Story, that the idea of getting up in front of a room of people and singing on a stage, surrounded by talented musicians and bright lights, was terrifying. The crowd overwhelmed me. I felt uncomfortable. I didn't like the spotlight. I didn't like the risk. I felt out of control of my surroundings; I never wanted to sing on a stage again.

Being in the band at Watershed has been completely transformational. I never thought I'd find comfort on a stage or in front of a microphone, but I have. What makes this experience so different from what I've done in the past is that it's not about the performance, or about what the crowd thinks, or if I get the lines right. It's about opening my heart and using my voice to sing to God. It's not about ME.

I've heard so many people say they don't like to sing aloud because they "have a terrible voice" or "can't sing.” Every time I hear someone say this, it reminds me of making cards for my parents all the time. I'd scribble what I could in crayon, draw pictures all over it, and give it to them like it was the greatest gift they'd probably ever received. I'd sit and watch my mom as she deciphered my misspellings and messy penmanship. Her face would light up, and her eyes were full of love as she'd proudly display the card on the fridge- all because I did the best I could to show her how much I loved her.

God loves our scribbles. And our misspellings. And, I like to think that God hangs even our off-key, out-of-tune praises on his fridge.

A worship song I really connect with is Hillsong's, "From The Inside Out". One of my favorite lines is:

"..Your will above all else, my purpose remains,
The art of losing myself in bringing you praise"

Every Sunday I sing with the Watershed band, I lose a little more of myself. I am reminded that it's not about ME. Or, US. Or, our performance. Or, our voices. If there's anything I can encourage you to do, it's sing. Sing out, sing loud, sing with all you have. And, lose yourself. In losing myself, I find God. And, that's exactly what I need.

Written by Lauren Rosenau

Yeah, I said it. Sometimes, service to others can be a real inconvenience.  Let me give you the rundown on my hectic schedule. I work part-time. Everywhere. I’m an adjunct professor who also babysits, tutors, dogsits, and owns her own crafty side-business on etsy. In fact, on any given day, I’ve done all of those things. So my precious little free time, is well, precious.  So, yeah, sometimes I don’t feel like getting up an extra hour on Sunday to go teach a rambunctious, rowdy, crazed group of two- and three-year-olds for GreenHouse. I sacrifice time, but I also miss out on catching up with my friends in the lobby before and after Transit, and I miss the message, which means I have find time (remember, that’s an issue) to listen to it later on my iPod. Now, please don’t get me wrong, and don’t start calling me Debbie Downer. I love serving in GreenHouse, largely in part because of those wild kiddos in my classroom.

Some time ago, I made the connection that serving in areas of your own personal interests and gifts makes the experience much more rewarding, which is a reason why I don’t volunteer for Girls On The Run (running was never a joy; it felt more like a chore), or say donate hours to the Bicycle Recyclery (I can’t even follow the picture directions IKEA provides). So I serve in GH, because I genuinely love teaching, and I adore those kids. They’ve become just as crucial a part in my life as Transit or my Relationality Bloc has.  And here’s the thing – on that rare morning when I just want to sleep in, I get up and go, yawning the entire way there, but happy. Happy because I know the minute I walk back to my classroom area, I’ll feel joy. Spirit-led joy. Joy that erases the week’s unpleasant memories, the still unresolved problems hanging overhead, the stress that my crazy schedule creates.  Joy that comes from God, and joy that comes from knowing my students love me unconditionally because I show up ready to love and teach them about a cool dude named Jesus.  Whatever burden I carry in there melts away with the first smile I get from the kiddos. This is why I serve.

Jesus tells us we’re to love each other.  In fact, he tells us it’s the second most important commandment there is (Matthew 22:36-40). We’re charged to take care of each other, and I truly believe peace and reconciliation begin through serving those who are most needy. Jesus tells us when we serve others we serve him; active faith means volunteering, assisting, going to the places where need is greatest.  What I love about Watershed is that it provides opportunities to brush up against humanity, to love and see, as Victor Hugo puts it, the face of God.  Opportunities for in-house volunteering and service in our greater community (Catapult Project, Hope Teams, Street Soccer 945, Habitat, I can keep going...) abound, and for me, giving up some of my precious time has a big pay-off: it brings me closer to a life of purpose, and I can share the challenges and the joys that come with service with the amazing community I’ve found in Watershed.

Written by Shawn Buxton