Friday marks my first full 40 hours, my first full week, of service with CAP. And I’ve gotten a lot of ideals in my head. And if you think I’m wrong for using “ideals” in that sentence, then you, my friend, are clearly not from McCreary county. Yes, here in these parts of the mountains, the word ‘idea’ gets enhanced with an “l” sound at the end (and to my Western Mass followers – don’t make fun: many of you probably know the word “idear,” a commonplace word).

This blog post will probably not be entirely cohesive or thematic, but that’s perfect because my week hasn’t exactly been that way either. On Monday, I started work with the Eagle Child & Family Development Center, a CAP program that provides a number of resources for, you guessed it, children and families. There is a preschool, an infant/toddlers and intervention program, and the SPARK program – which is where I’ll be working. SPARK stands for Scholastic Preparation, Art, and Recreation for Kids, but really, the recreation part is the most essential. The program seems like it really tries to provide kids with a space to be free and safe to play, relax, enjoy down time, and be mentored; yes, academic help and homework are key parts to the program, as are reading and creative thinking, but it’s a fun place to be. Or so I think; the program doesn’t start until early/mid-September so my week has been a lot of…mingling, helping on projects, finding ways to keep myself busy, and a little bit of time-wasting (hey, it’s the summer!). The program serves children from 5/6-17…meaning, K through high school. Not all at once, of course, but nonetheless a big age range. Some days, I’ll be with 6-8 year olds, and another will be 13-17 year olds. I really think I will enjoy this aspect of the program. Alas I must wait…

Ah waiting. The bane of my existence and yet… the heart of the spiritual life.

On Monday, I was introduced to everyone (who are super, wicked fun, by the way) and introduced to the way things go (generally). 8 am huddle (aka gossip, prayer requests, funny stories about their children’s shenanigans, actual serious work matters that will be handled that day); we pray every morning, as it is a Christian organization, and I can tell you for a fact that after a year of this, this Catholic will probably come back praying like a Baptist. There is something different in the words, the tone, the style of certain Protestant prayer that is somehow different than how I’m used to prayer or hearing prayer. I can’t quite nail it, but there’s something different (read: different, not bad) there. I like it. I like that I work and pray with the people of this actual community, not only other volunteers or transplants to Appalachia. That’s a real blessing, though sometimes I fail to see that when the conversation centers on “so-and-so’s daughter’s baby’s friend” and I feel dizzyingly left out. My manager, bless her heart, acknowledged to me that they were all probably very different than the people I know back home. That’s both very true and very untrue, but I appreciated deeply that she acknowledged it.

On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, who knows what I did. I’ve taken my obligatory drug test; filled out some paper work; helped the preschool workers get ready for school in a few weeks; helped move around a preschool (which is ridiculously tricky and fraught with potential state violations such as “not enough posters on the wall” and “jackets may touch in the cubbies”); and spent countless hours in the SPARK room where my desk is, studying the room and its materials. And waiting. Lots of waiting. Luckily today I got outside to help with the Infant/Toddler playgroup session and enjoyed the refreshing spray of a hose on a 90 degree afternoon. I also brainstormed group activities and a cool bulletin board, as well as committed myself to feeding some stray cats, but… is this service?

Is this why I moved 10 states away from my sister, my family, my dreamboat boyfriend, and my best friends?  How does Googling “bulletin board ideas” count as service? Or reading anti-bullying curriculum 100 times? How does my sometimes after-work boredom glorify God and reduce injustice?

The answer is slowly being revealed to me. Slowly: it is a word to embrace. Today a colleague asked me, “So are you getting used to the slow pace of how things work in Kentucky?” And I realized, by God, I think I am. Acceptance, resignation – basically the same act with a different attitude. But with her question I shifted from resigning myself to a quiet life so far to accepting a quiet life. Things work slowly here, until they don’t. Until I’m crazy busy managing 7 year-olds as they color and scream and giggle and wreck things. Each moment, whether still or frantic, is full of opportunity to meet God, meet others, and create peace and justice.

Last night at “devo” (devotions), my housemate J read a prayer which contained the line: “For the gift of poverty, that I may be at home with emptiness, a willing space for God.” That waiting and emptiness I feel sometimes is where God is, where God wants to meet me. I’m learning that I need to slowly accept this and willingly meet The Great Spirit in that place. So is what I’m doing service? Yes, because this year is meant to be not about what I’m doing at all times, but who I am becoming and who I am being with – be it toddlers, my housemates, or the people of this community. Less the product, and more the process. Yes, I want to do fun and enjoyable things with the kids of this community, and yes, I want to see some success from my program, but that starts from the inside out. Hopefully I can live this inside-out process and see the results in my work. Until the program starts though, I’ll just have to settle for having ideals.

Kate B. is a long-term CAP Volunteer in Child and Family Development. She is a member of the McCreary Volunteer Community.