Today, while reflecting over how incredible it is to be involved in the life of purely hoping to survive on the generosity of others, an email came through to my account. For those of you who don’t know, to keep the Voices4Peru Private School open during the last year and a half, I drained the rest of my inheritance that my grandfather left for my mother. She passed away prior to my grandmother, and so the generous amount of money was passed on directly to the next of kin. Through those months of lacking funds every month, I would pay the rest of the expenses for Voices4Peru Programs out of that fund. The fund dried at the end of last year.
The transition of changing from knowing that I would make it through the month to not knowing how I would survive without moving into the streets became very real and alarming. Its easy for individuals to say that they serve their God by helping others, (something that I could always say), when there was always a source of income. I know of a few Pastors that claim to be serving their God yet if it weren’t for the large paycheck coming in for their multi-millon dollar homes and expensive cars, they’d be off looking for a professional career elsewhere. The idea of just living to share the message of desperation that comes from those marginalized by poverty because you love is another story. The mere act of serving to advocate, fight, and stand up for those who are struck hard by poverty just because you know its what Jesus wants of you is acting out your belief and placing your words to action.
It is one thing to say that you love those who are poor but its another thing to be willing to be poor to love the poor. How are we poor? That is only between the One that made you and you. I cannot say that one person doesn’t love the poor because he or she brings in $15,000 a month, but I can only say what I know to be true. I had to become completely broke in my financial life to realize that to serve the poor, I must have nothing, and nothing is what I know have.
What a feeling. What an emotion. What a challenge. What a fear. However, in this, somehow, there is a peace that comes from deep within. I can’t explain it. I have no health insurance and I have no savings account. I have no plan for how or what I will do when I get old, (some say I’ve arrived), yet, its okay.
I have no idea how to defend myself when a gun is put to my head like it was on March 04. I have no idea how I escaped the bullet being discharged from the gun of the mafia gang member that stole everything I had. Yet, if its for the cause, if its to bring justice to the poor and needy, then let’s bring this on.
In all of this, I was reflecting on this entire journey this morning. An email came through from a generous individual from Iowa. A young man with a beautiful family gave a generous monetary gift to assist with the end of the month deficit that we still had with the school. Without the generosity of others, we would have had to close the school for the month of September. This gift was so graciously appreciated and I wrote back to my friend, thanking him for the generosity and for thanking him that he would remember someone from years ago of high school.
Perhaps its old age, or perhaps the stress of life, but I had forgotten some things about our friendship, to which he was so kind to remind me.
He wrote back….
I had forgotten. My senior year of high school I volunteered for one year at my old elementary school. Wanting to be a teacher, I selected to be involved in a course at my high school that allowed us the opportunity to work or volunteer in the area of study that we would acquire at a university level. It was for only one semester if I recall well, and enjoying it so much, I asked my school professors and staff if I could stay on for the completion of the year, to which I did. Now, looking back into the memories that of that year, many of them are vague, however I do remember tutoring students, taking time to talk with them at the back of the classroom during break, and conducting a short play for the classroom. We had auditions, and we acted out an entire play. I cannot remember it was about, but I do remember involving many of the class members. Under the supervision of the classroom teacher, I had learned how to serve others.
A little message. A little encouragement. The time that this person took to write to me last week to let me know that somehow we had helped each other along the journey of life meant more than anything.
I had forgotten about the opportunities here and there that must have occurred to speak positive encouragement into the lives of others, but as I received the email from a friend, I must have made the effort. More than a flashbulb memory from the past, I realized that although I didn't follow the professional coursework to become a public educator, I have in a way continued to head in the journey of sharing with others.
Now as the years go on, I see a small private school here, nestled in the foothills of the Andes Mountains. A safe refuge of this place called a school is where many children find safety from the haunting realities of modern day child slave labor.
We never know how or when our dreams nor our past experiences will serve us in this day moving forward, but be assured, God will use every single event that has ever occurred in your past to be part of reaching who He has created you to be and to fulfill the very purpose to which you are called. Daniel M. Klopp
Advocate 4 Marginalized individuals & communities globally
Servant Leader
Advocate & Journalist
Photographer.
Die Daily to Self
Legacy to leave.
@danielmklopp
I focus on the originality of the journey. Too many people walking up and down this sidewalk outside the park are trying to fit in. Too many people attempting to conform to a pattern of society that is not original, rather the pegged image is a horrific image of history replayed. Most everyone has the same haircut, same colors, and the same shoes. There is this mad dash of expectancy among the passing population to all attain to the equal level of performance. Focusing not only on the outward appearances do people attempt to slide into one mirror image of the other, resulting in some manufactured source of society, the internal as well is cookie cut into framework. Smells of cologne, perfume, and even down to the same hand lotion, people desperately try to fit an image of one who they passionately desire to reflect. Sad isn’t it.
Internally, our society is operating in the same mode of thought. The internal thoughts, emotions, and frustrations are emulated outwardly to exhibit what? A reflection of how to fit in with others on an emotional level. When members in a group tend to withdraw, isolate, and shudder away from expressing their heart cries, we see the trend make waves of popularity. A group of friends, all superficially enjoying the journey, inwardly struggle with pain, hurts, and grief. None to share their emotions, each one reflecting the other, and in a very short while, all shut down emotionally, without one knowing how the other “friend” truly feels.
This is when originality is thrown through the window of diversity and embraced by conformity of society. Its over. We might as well kiss goodbye the next generation of famous artists, photographers, and stage performers. We might as well kiss goodbye the future outspoken activist who is willing to take on the global stage. Its not the normal cycle of society, and for anyone who dares to push the limits, they are often rebuked, ridiculed, and smashed down into the grey trickle of conforming souls.
I choose, with all of my soul, to follow the One who made me. Not just for me, but in wild hopes that perhaps future generations of people will understand that its for something that we are different, labeled, and excluded by the traditionalist. Where does the fresh wind of diverse wisdom arrive? Into the hearts of those willing to take risks, to hold their heads high in the verbal accusations of those who oppose diversity. Across religious, social, or academic sectors, radical leaders shall become the shining light to set people free. I spent years being locked down by the conceived rush of pleasing the people around me.
What tragic years spent, wasted, while others suffered at the hands of the global mainstream. If we never learn to break away from the mainstream, we will suffer a horrifically misty grey dwindling away into darkness. Never wishing the worst for anyone, I must understand that a hope is rising out of the shadows of normalcy. I have to believe that there are others out there in this global community that strive to break the box of conformed existence in which they had been placed by their ancestors. I want to believe that it will be a movement, not to be similar, but to be different. In this moment, I believe we will find a freedom to become united in what is important, the flowing water faucets of love, hope, kindness, generosity, and above all, freedom. I remember what is stated in Galatians, “ that it is for freedom that we have been set free,”
So, having said that, if it is for freedom that we have been made free, why we would ever desire to conform to a realm of traditional and judgmental establishments. For it is One who makes us free and we shall be free indeed, and it has nothing to do with an establishment, location, or doctrine, rather it has to do with an operating manual that I refer to as the Bible. This, in itself, entails the life instructions of the journey that outweighs any traditional baggage and focuses on the real issues. Forget what they drilled into your brain during school hours, what does the One say that you are. Forget about the ones that judged you to damnation, who does the One say you are. This will be the freedom. In this moment, you shall find your place, talent, purpose, and direction.
Nothing about conforming shall be beneficial, except to experience a superficial sense of false hope and destination pleasures that will crash away with the next big wave of diversity.
Rather, to take this operating manual, read it, live by it, and serve the One who wrote it, there shall be the eternal sense of peace that goes beyond all understanding, and the incredible and supernatural reality of finding your spot. A sweet aroma of His Presence shall forever fill your heart and your home.
Daniel M. Klopp
Advocate 4 Marginalized individuals & communities globally
Servant Leader
Advocate & Journalist
Photographer.
Die Daily to Self
Legacy to leave.
@danielmklopp
Why are we so afraid to admit our failures? It seems that in the cutthroat society of our society's attempts to climb to the top of the pile of humans scrambling for first place, we forget our own fragile existence. We forget who we are when we think that we are something great. It's okay to know that you have done incredible works in the global campaign to exert your professional skills upon the portrait of fame in history. Own it. Believe it. You did it. You've left your footprint of legacy. Congratulations. However, flaunting it will be the very death of the legacy itself. Those who have gone on before us, leaving great legacies rarely ever flaunted their greatness. Those who realize that they have done great works and manage to leave their deeds of human kindness quietly in their own minds are truly the great souls of compassionately serving others first before themselves.
You think that you've accomplished great deeds by flaunting your professional skills across the millions of miles flown in first class while sipping the finest wine. The photographs that hang on your wall, with grinning teeth filled smiles of you shaking the hands of famous individuals shine so bright in your office. You've managed to top the charts of your own society's claim to fame. Well done. No one has seen the souls you've crushed, and no one has seen the pain you've caused to the loved ones you've squelched beneath your feet. The heads of lives that you've stood on to win your personal goals go unnoticed in the eyes of our humanity. Sadly, those souls that you've left behind are the ones that know your soul. Owning up to your mistakes while climbing to your stardom could be the very thing that frees you from the inner turmoil of your past. Your past haunts you. You look at those colleagues of yours that pat you on the back and congratulate you with the glass of gin & tonic. They don't know the dark secrets that you've managed to sweep under the rug of your own conscious. The best place to be in my personal experience is under the realization that we are better to walk in reality of our humanity. Don't pretend to be who you are not. Be who you are. In the grasping of who you are, you will authentically tell your story.
Walk in your weakness, not embracing it, yet being aware of it. Being aware of your weakness while walking through the challenges, joys, and sorrows of human existence will draw others to passionately identify with your walk. Accept yourself for who you are, not elevating yourself to a level you are not, nor suppressing yourself below the level you were created to be. Just be who you are in all possibility in your strength. The one who walks with that limp in pain of the scars of yesterday will be embraced by those who truly love them with strength to endure the rest of the journey. It is an incredible journey to walk and in your authenticity, others will see your transparent desire to do what is right and will join your side. If they truly love you for who you are, they won't care about your mistakes, errors, and very actions that have caused you to walk with your limp. They will love you, embrace you, and encourage you to keep onward and upward through the adventure of growing in yourself. Who would you rather walk with? One who ignores their own failures and pretends to be one who they are not?
Walk with someone. Never walk it alone.
Choose with whom do you prefer to associate yourself? Will you walk with those who like you have made mistakes and errors for which have shaped them into the people they are today? Or will you walk with those who make you feel famous to walk by their side, yet, the humility is something they would never choose to own.
I am a broken person. I have made mistakes that empower me to become someone better. I know the great costs of sacrifice for which some may never understand. The cost to follow your destiny of calling of whom He who called you is a complex and challenging twisted path of choices. For what one judges me for outwardly suggested mistakes are the very ones that causes their thoughts to be of error. One may never know the extent of what it means to walk with the broken, however, surely it leads to an authentic existence. Who wouldn't want to experience the most transparent journey possible? It may mean walking alone for a season. It may mean that others will never understand you.
Be assured that as you listen to His voice and seek His Face, you will find other individuals, just like you, broken, that have chosen to walk in the same way you do.
What freedom and healing is in the collective walking with others who are broken. It's real and it feels like a grace filled journey filled with those who love you for who you are. I am humbly reminded that for the One who's life I am to reflect, He chose to walk with those who are broken. If the Christ walked with those who are broken, I firmly and with all of my soul believe that I too, broken, shall walk the same way. Oh to Him be the glory for great things He has done. It shall be an incredible eternity to experience and while on the way, we find those who we shall fellowship with that great day. Broken and humble is how I choose to walk for in this, I feel like flying with freedom.
Daniel M. Klopp
Advocate 4 Marginalized individuals & communities globally
Servant Leader
Advocate & Journalist
Photographer.
Die Daily to Self
Legacy to leave.
@danielmklopp
Really? Is that the best that they can do? I think that in our feeble attempts to connect with humanity, we avoid the logic. We avoid the challenge of actually engaging our humanity by having a direct conversation with an individual. Sadly, the coined phrase “beating it around the bush,” becomes the death of our intimacy in stimulating conversations. There are far too many bushes that haven't been attended because we've beat around too long and too far. Pity hey ?
It’s hard. I get it. We sit around with our friends or colleagues at the local espresso joint and naturally slip into the mode of tiny little whispers stated by just one. After the whisper of comments that grows into a loud roar. Before we know it, we are engaged in conversing of the life of another person. Some call it backstabbing, while others call it gossiping, and at best, we can utter the truth that ignorance of social engagement. Well, having said that, engaging with the right social network. That is not the worst. How about your employers? Your boss huddles away in a mahogany styled wood office on the edge of the glass edged skyline view. He murmurs the darkest secrets of your personal life with your colleague. Stings of shredded words spark the initial phrase which leaps to the gasoline fueled evergreen trees that wisp flames to the forest. Your reputation is done. For not the truth but only an assumed thought. The crashing wave of concrete sidewalks splinter up in sharp slivers that cut your soul. The individual. The person in which you hold your judgmental opinion. You never thought to ask the person directly. You didn’t have the courage. You didn’t have the evidence. You didn’t know how to ask. You didn’t even consider other possibilities and assumed your own opinion was fact. This was the death of that person you wondered about.
The individual. The direct question or assumption flies past this stated individual and bounces around your own social networks as if they owned the property value to someone else’s life. Harsh.
It gets even sadder. The ones that you would least think to damage your soul. Those that label themselves as Christians. The alleged “Christ-followers” who douse gossip ridden fuel into the witch-hunted burning of your life. Your own Pastor may have taken what you confided in him with such trust and used this material to paint the smear campaign of your journey through life across the walls of the foyer of the church. Death has become you and it all began because of an assumption that your Pastor thought of you when you confided in him. It wasn’t what you told him rather it was what he assumed. The pity of that man’s thinking has now become your public end. Your Pastor took the power of your life journey and used it to promote his self-implored egocentrically motivated reputation. He didn’t ask you. He didn’t even bother asking about the specifics of what you meant when you confided in him.
Taken out of context. One comment used to fill in the blanks of your life that others did for you.
Ask the question direct. Instead of forming little clubs of gossip tanks around the foyer and encouraging others to follow your lemming like tracks to the cliff, take courage that comes from the One that made you and talk to the individual directly.
You may find answers to your assumed thoughts that you never knew. Perhaps there is more than what you think. I think Christ, as our perfect example, cleared a few examples that we could follow in this vein leading to the heart of our lives.
When you ask the question directly to the person that you are interested in, have doubts about, or question their character, you may find the answer. Look what Jesus did.
John 5:6-8
…When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he had already been a long time in that condition, He said to him, "Do you wish to get well?" The sick man answered Him, "Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I am coming, another steps down before me." Jesus said to him, "Get up, pick up your pallet and walk."…
So how do we respond to this concept? Jesus did not walk away from this man and talk about his laziness to his colleagues. Do you?
John 4:7-9
When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.)
The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)
Jesus asked her a question. He did not just leave and tell his friends about a woman.
Matthew 20:29-34
As Jesus and his disciples were leaving Jericho, a large crowd followed him. Two blind men were sitting by the roadside, and when they heard that Jesus was going by, they shouted, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!” The crowd rebuked them and told them to be quiet, but they shouted all the louder, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!”
Jesus stopped and called them. “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked.
“Lord,” they answered, “we want our sight.”
Jesus had compassion on them and touched their eyes. Immediately they received their sight and followed him.
So, you know, Jesus asked them some questions.
If Christ, the example, the One, the great I AM, asked questions, never assumed, just asked, what should we do?
I am ashamed to admit that I have on countless occasions taken the lower road through the gutter to avoid asking a question of someone, and spread an ongoing rumor. It is wrong. I admit fault. Since being on the other side, a misfit, a ragamuffin, and so many other names that fellow Christ-followers (stated) have said about me, I learn that asking questions directly to the individual that you have assumed about will be the very action that can create a glorious masterpiece of art that can change the world, and certainly eternity. Perhaps today, it would be appropriate to start? What do you think?
Daniel M. Klopp
Advocate 4 Marginalized individuals & communities globally
Servant Leader
Advocate & Journalist
Photographer.
Die Daily to Self
Legacy to leave.
@danielmklopp
Today as I was sitting on the cement steps outside the Voices4Peru Private School, I began to think about the entire journey from its beginning to the present. It has not always been easy, but surely, as one would say, it has been worth it. Looking into the 3rd year ahead of Voices4Peru Private School’s existence, I begin to see the future plans unfold. What was once started to promote unification among the marginalized communities of Ventanilla where crime, theft, and murder goes for only $30.00 USD, has become a countrywide endeavor to bring wholeness and healing to the communities across Perú. Seeing one of my soccer team's members get murdered for a fight over $5.00 USD never makes sense, but I realize that I have been placed in this location to ease the pain, other than my own. As I look upon the school, I consider what the future growth entails. It won’t be easy, but I am assured, based on past experiences, it will be worth it.
It had been over a month since I got my haircut, and as I was at the shoppe, the barber said to me after about five minutes of conversation, right as he was getting to the blade,
“You are helping thy neighbor, aren’t you?” he smiled.
I hadn’t really thought of it as an official program to help thy neighbor, but I guess, through the words that are printed in God’s word about what we are to do, he was right. We help our neighbors and we seek the best that we can for them. It’s a passion that began so long ago. Helping those who are next to you who struggle through the journey. Many will promise to help and to stand by the side to assist but slowly fade away in the evening dusk.
I guess I remember my neighbors as a child. Those who lived close by the bustling community where I lived out my childhood days. From playing in the sandbox to building leaf forts with my sister, Jana, I cherish all of those precious days filled with a lot of joy. My sister would often help to set up certain rooms in our leaf forts. We had a feeding station where we would place apples, acorns, and God knows what else for the deer, rabbits, and squirrels. Sometimes, at the very back of my parents’ property, where the fence line separated our home from the neighbor’s cornfield, the sun would set so magically along the ridge. The magnificent blends of orange would tremble their way through the evergreen pine trees onto our newly constructed leaf fort. My sister really helped to form those first years of creativity and imagination that grew so deeply in my soul.
“Now,” she would exclaim after placing food down for the animals, “we’ll come back tomorrow to see what the animals have eaten.”
We would sneak away as the sun faded into other time. We would go back into the house after an afternoon of great fun. Sometimes, before the night became too late, I would ride my bike across the street to one of our neighbors’ that lived on “Whiteside’s Road.” It was a blacktop-surfaced road where a married couple lived. They took me in like a little son and I would sit in their sitting room and watch television with them. They were so kind to take care of a little whiney kid like me. I think they truly lived out what it meant to “help thy neighbor.” They always were so friendly, kind, and loving. Sometimes there would be an apple or raspberry pie slice to enjoy, while other times some popcorn. I remember one time as I got older and I remember experiencing some bullying at school as a result of my challenges, they would take me to see a movie and just spent quality time with me.
Quality time truly is the highest form of charity. Over the years, I have realized that more than anything else, the investment of quality time truly speaks louder than any words uttered. Helping your neighbor through quality time is what can demonstrate a passion to change the world, one life at a time. Through the years of community unification projects that I engage in, along with my colleagues, it is quality time that wins over any project. Projects come and go, but quality time is something that will never be forgotten.
Think back to your years of the journey. You may remember certain events, parties, and social gatherings. Of course you would, and you will remember the great celebrations of times gone by. I am certain that you will more than anything, remember the quality time spent by one that loved and cared for you. A relationship or a friendship that truly foregoes the test of time and years and will remains constant in your life. The investment of quality time for your neighbor in this ever changing and destructive society will be the very faded memory that lasts through all of our eternal change.
Investment into the life of your neighbor, regardless of physical distance will be life changing for you and for your neighbor. Regardless of their racial, ethnic, economic, sexual orientation, or their physical appearance, you could be one to experience the most incredible friendship that you’ve ever had. Wipe away all that is visible in your eyes and concentrate on the heart for therein are secrets to a journey complete of an inner peace and joy found in walking by the side of another. Forget about all of the judgmental perceptions you thought meant truth in your own personal journey. If Love is the Lord of Heaven & Earth, you must find the Christ who created your very being. Fighting with your neighbor over the diverse differences of both of your lives will be counterproductive to the very purpose of your creation. For when you decide to drop the differences of your diversity and embrace it with the Love that the One created you with, there you will find a life long friend to walk this journey.
You will never feel alone and moreover you will surely find your sweet spot of where you meet destiny with the purpose that you were created for. In this entire sweeping adventure, you shall find an everlasting joy that goes so very deep within the core of your very soul.
Daniel M. Klopp
Advocate 4 Marginalized individuals & communities globally
Servant Leader
Advocate & Journalist
Photographer.
Die Daily to Self
Legacy to leave.
@danielmklopp
danielmklopp@v4peru.com
When you have a goal set on your horizon, its the sunset that scares you the most because you know the goal is etched in stone. The only real force you have behind you is give the chance to reach your goal a full 100%. There is no room for error, nor for half-hearted passions. You could just leave those at the door.
The path is set before you. You've spent hours talking with others and with yourself. You've planned and prayed, while hopes of the dream achieving the reality ever waning. You've hoped for years. You've seen the dream countless times that implants itself, bubbling up from the depths of your soul. Its an innate sense that you were destined for this journey, and you simply wait in hopes to see the setting sun touch the ocean's edge of completion. Its kind of scary, isn't it? When you wonder how the dream will surface as a reality, you only see what has happened before you arrived to this day. You've taken all that you had, that you held so close and pushed that toward your dream, in hopes that it would become real. You shared your dream with others, and some understood, while others didn't. Nonetheless, with tears running down your face, you pushed onward and never let go. You saw all that you had fading away, but you stuck to the dream. Giving all that you had, and all that was within you, you gave to the dream. Yet, somehow, for some reason, you continued to see the dream fading slowly as all of your passions burned ever so strong.
Then, one day, when you least expect it, and naturally as always, in the most random and indirect way, someone or some lesson shines a shimmer of hope into the dark shadows of your cold heart. You closed off your heart to others because you had been burned and dragged through their fires and their emotional baggage. You had suffered their bitter & resentful comments that left you weeping in the shadows of your own twilight. Their judgmental and naive criticisms left you bewildered at their actions. They once said that they loved your dream, but they left your side when your dream didn't happen the way they wanted it too. You watched your dream fizzle while their stabbing words left you with your head hung low in pain. While you wept, they laughed at your dream. Yet, through those horrific memories, you dream never lost its form. They left you with your tear soaked hands open and you remained with the hopes of a new dawn. You perhaps have never felt so alone before in your entire journey. It may be the darkest night every experienced in your entire existence. You may have no idea how you will survive through the night of your dreams floating along the ocean of your soul. Not having any idea how you will wake up to see the dream shining ever so brightly, and certainly not knowing how you will even find your last breath, it is then the life is seen from an entirely new perspective. The most unusually bizarre intertwining of supernatural connections stir your spirit up from the depths of your hell. People begin to surround your left side from a place you never thought possible. The most diverse and completely fulfilling conversation is had between you and a random connection from a place you never even heard of. From the hills of your distant journey, individuals begin to walk down toward your very path. They stop. They hear your cries. They empathize. They listen. They hug. They begin to hear your dream and vision. They begin to see you for who you are and they love you the same. They take you under their wing. They begin to speak words of encouragement into your heart. They begin to tell you that your dream will become your reality. These incredibly supernatural connections start to swell hope within the empty space of your heart. The entire process was already in progress, however you just could not see as they were up over the hill beyond your vision. They were on their journey, crossing their paths toward their destiny when they heard you cry. They take the risk and you risk your cold heart to break as they begin to bring healing to your soul. Through the One who loved us first, they are used by Him. Each individual bringing the strength from beneath your soul, with their individual strengths build you up to see that your dream never left your presence. Now you have arrived, with these amazingly inspirational souls who have taken on the dream as their own as well. Suddenly, without warning, you are a team. Before as one, you cried alone, and now you see, that the dream of the eve of the last opportunity, you will walk with others. Hand in hand, you will venture across the caps of snow and through the darkest dew filled forests. There is hope that emerges from your tear streaked face as the fading sunlight emulates rays of golden orange. It has arrived. It is the eve of the last dream and tomorrow your adventure begins. You will cover many miles and many words shall be exchanged, but realize in that incredible moment, you are not alone. You go with others who hear, listen, breath, speak, and support your dream and your vision. Do you know why?
Because it has also become theirs. You are now a team. Embrace the team. This is the last chance for your dream to become a reality, but rest in the awareness that you will not be alone, no matter what the outcome may be. Now embrace the eve of the last dream. It has come.
Daniel M. Klopp
Advocate 4 Marginalized individuals & communities globally
Servant Leader
Advocate & Journalist
Photographer.
Die Daily to Self
Legacy to leave.
@danielmklopp
Through my entire life, as far back as I can remember, I always felt different. I always felt that my life was not going to be a walk in the park, nor a walk through the fields of Poppies. There was always something within me that my soul connected to my heart and mind knew that my journey would be distinct. Nothing ordinary on my journey through mountainous glory to the darkest canyons would ever prove standard. Label my journey however you wish, but ordinary, it was never to be.
Please make no mistake as I am not attempting to make it sound like my journey has been the most incredible, exciting, and joy-filled trip to take because that would be a drastic misrepresentation of the reality. It has never been full of rubies, shimmering crystal, and silk lined bed linens, however, the journey through life has always been worth it. For as long as I can remember, I always felt a certain pulling in my spirit toward the distinct, diverse, and non-conforming mindset.
There may have been a few earthly influences that brought about some of those determined factors to remain clear far from status-quo. From various challenges as a child, inclusive of a hearing loss, speech impediment, and even having to wear leg braces for over a year to occasional subject of bullying in elementary school. The pain of being made fun of by others was never a fair shake for anyone, while adding the loss of my twin brother, Joel, to being raped in secondary school and a few isolating events from peers would leave one bound to never conform.
Not for the faint of hearted, I realized that those personal struggles along the journey certainly carried me to the diverse label of difference. I tried so hard to fit in and get accepted by others. I struggled to make it seem like everything was okay, even though I was different on the inside, and the most challenging and painful part was, that I realized this all along. The only safe place that I knew as a child that was a place of safe harbor was outside playing with friends that I knew cared about me, my faithful dog, and my family.
Even being labeled as different carried its weight through the years, especially coming from a fundamental and traditional religious background, heaved down my soul caused rebellious years to follow with a narcotic drug addiction to prescription pills all in the desperate attempt to find myself and peace with the world. Through all of those most toxic recipes toward destruction of self, I always found myself with much joy and peace in serving others. My father always said that if we put others before ourselves, we will truly find a blessing, and I think he is right. He was and is, a wise fella who still to this day is labeled as my best friend.
The global search to find myself took me through many countries, inclusive of incredible places in Africa, Europe, and Asia. I remember incredible journeys, flying through the South Pacific Islands between various countries, all attempting to serve, help, and love others. During this adventurous experience, I kept trying to find myself and to find a profound peace that would go deeper than any worldly satisfaction. Floating down giant rivers that would easily engulf us, sleeping by night in hammocks, I tried to find myself. I've looked in a lot of places throughout our global family. I've looked into a lot of people to try to find myself. Attempting to find that sense of being "real." I have realized that the journey to becoming real, while it really is in serving and loving others, its just the realization that we by ourselves will come into that sense of being real and ourselves in time. It just takes time. It takes pain. It takes crying. It takes laughing. It just takes.... Time... Through the course of this long process, we may not realize that little by little we are changing. It may take horrific situations and horrific circumstances. The results make you sick to your stomach just thinking about it, and you wonder how it could have ever happened to you. You question and ponder, scream, and cry. Perhaps you even question the very current situation that is happening right now, and wonder how it all fits into the grand scheme of life and your relationship with God. It may take having a gun put to your head by those criminals that want your earthly possessions. It may take living in the desert for 21 days to raise funds for a school. It may take every dollar from your savings account. It may take the emotional trauma of losing precious loved ones and family that have passed away. In this most stripping and painful process, it will need to happen for the refining process of smoothing out the rough and stiff edges. You may, as I remember, never wish this refining experience on anyway else, however, I must state, that there is such a rich value in going through that refining experience because it will in fact, lead to wholeness.
The journey through life is never easy, however, it is always worth it. This morning, I woke up, feeling different. I realize after reading an incredible written script from Margery Williams, named "The Velveteen Rabbit," in which she writes the following text,
In essence, this is really what is happening. I have less hair, I think I have been stabbed in the back by those who say they love me (past tense) at least enough times to cause a few eyeballs to fall out, (I only have two), and shabby describes best. However, through the 30+ years of walking through the journey of life, I have realized precious lessons that could never have been learned in an academic environment, and that is, how to love and to feel love. These exchanges of the human experience are all inclusive in the process of becoming real. Now along my journey, even stripped of everything that I thought important, I realize that I have become real.
To become real is to truly understand that as you are, who you are, why you are, and the acceptance that God created you to be who you are for a divine purpose is in itself, the discovery of self. It could take a very long time, especially enough time to lose the hair, which I clearly see has happened to part of my head. What freedom. What love. What Grace. All of the perceptions, expectations, and demands placed on you by others is broken away from you as you look upon the tomb where death once held Him. You see the freedom over the negativity, division, and judgement, and you see the freedom of Life which is in the Christ. You become real as you see that He is real. He said who He said He was. He is and through that....
You are...
Stripped of everything you thought you were.
Stripped of everything that you hoped to become.
Stripped of every stable source of false reassurance.
Stripped of every pain that has caused you unwell.
Stripped of all previous wounds, scars, and baggage.
You will find that...
You are... Real... even with your lost hair... Its all part of the plan toward complete restoration to eternity's edge. You will be greeted then accepted for who you are and you will see that you are...
real...Daniel M. Klopp
Advocate 4 Marginalized individuals & communities globally
Servant Leader
Advocate & Journalist
Photographer.
Die Daily to Self
Legacy to leave.
@danielmklopp
I have been guilty, only countless times, of missing the little things. Its a retrospective realization that causes one to alter patterns and management of behavior. We miss the little things so many times. Its natural, you must understand, to overlook those most pristine inclinations of profound truths because they are buried in the bustle of instantaneous downloading of information, events, and socialized media. We instantly demand information, photographs, images, dialogue, and responses in such a scurried daily routine that the dawning second of profound truth is railroaded by an incoming beep of a message from a friend. As we swirl in the whirlwind and reap the backlash of the thriving currents of instantaneous existence, I admit fault for countless lessons to be learned in the divine minute and somewhat obscured truths. Through the course of days, weeks, and months, certain inclinations beckon our instinct back to its natural awareness and somewhere, innately, we seek that profound truth.
I think often times around the Holy Week (Semana Santa) many of us become reflective. It is a time to remember, reflect, and consider the reality of our human journey. For some, naturally, its another week of relaxation, relief, and a stretch away from the mundane routine. Others find escape among the natural beauty of Creation. Some draw away from the opportunity to learn from within and pour themselves more deeply into their profession to ease the pain of their reality.
Through valleys of darkness and the mountain cliffs of sheer vast beauty, I experience each day as it comes. Though the global community spins ever so quickly as it hums toward its final breath, I wholeheartedly attempt to gather wisdom from the lapping tide of ocean depths.
During the Holy Week, for me, I see the reflection of memories. I remember the positive, negative, and places where change needs to happen. In that reflective moment, just in this season, individuals have wandered into my pathway that have encouraged me in ways that I see further hope where I never saw before. Whether it be an encouraging word, a gesture of kindness, or an act of generous humility, I find myself thinking rather that I am not lost in this forest, but rather found. So it is, with our God, when the moment, I believe, the Christ was lost from our visible eyes so many thousand years ago, it was just the appearance of the physical visibility while no one knew in the spiritual realm what was happening. It seemed to everyone that it was lost. The cause was gone and we were left with the words of memories.
Words spoken. Actions taken. Miracles observed. People healed. Lives transformed. Relationships restored. All was gone through the action and horrific brutality of humanity.
It was over. All lost. Hope vanished.
I remember feeling that emotion nearly one month ago when my colleague and I were completely stripped of everything in our possession. With a gun in my face, I was ripped of all of my identification, value, and humanitarian aid for others. Within 5 minutes or less, everything that I held in that moment had vanished. Hope was gone and I was left with my horrified memory. The young men had ripped the watch off of my arm, ripped my backpack from my arms, and grabbed my neck and ripped the chain away from me. On that chain was a treasured gift of a cross. It held much sentimental value to me and everything was gone. Within a flash, all had changed. Empty and full of grief, my colleague and I left the scene and headed toward the police station.
It was all lost. I had no idea how I was going to recover and more than anything else, how I was going to make progress happen with such a massive setback. I wondered where was my God in this moment. I wondered where had He gone. Perhaps like so many people over this Holy Week, He had stepped out for a holiday. I was horrified.
In that moment. In the very moment of complete desperation, from way off in the distance, is a glimmer of a shining bulb of radiating light. It is so hard to see because we are so overwhelmed with the darkness of grief. The horrible pain of grief stabs into the retina of our vision and ability to see hope and so we recede to the fact that it must be gone.
The moment that we lose everything is the moment we find we have gained the most important thing. Hope restored. In the simplicity of realizing that alone and on our own power and strength, we are truly nothing, it is then, we have won and we realize that we never were lost.
We were found. We have always been found. There was never a moment that my God left me. He may have been out of my visible sight because I was grieving the pain of the loss, yet, He was still there. I learned a lesson two days later when my colleague came to the door.
It is, and will be, at one point in the journey that we feel we are alone and that the God had left, but as we seek so earnestly, we shall find, He is still there.
"Daniel," my colleague Saul said to me, "look what I found underneath the carpet of the car," he exclaimed.
I looked at his hand that he had extended toward me and he unwrapped his fingers from around a hidden object.
"La cruz," (the Cross)."
It had been there all along. The cross never left. Where I thought it had been snatched from my very body and stolen from my life, this incredible treasured gift that I so gratefully hold close, had remained. It was never lost, yet, it had been found. It had become hard to find because I was so frantic and hurried with grief, yet, it was still there, ever so present. A profound lesson for my journey as I continue to consider each day, how to learn those incredible profound lessons that shimmer in our view to bring us closer to our destiny and eternity.
In this grand journey of life, I realize, that I had never been lost, rather He had just been watching, loving, and caring for me from a place that my pained grief could not see. Oh how grateful I sing with hope.
My prayer for each of us today is that we find what we once thought was lost and find the reassurance that it was never actually lost, rather it was there all along.
Daniel M. Klopp
Advocate 4 Marginalized individuals & communities globally
Servant Leader
Advocate & Journalist
Photographer.
Die Daily to Self
Legacy to leave.
@danielmklopp
Yesterday I was at the Ministry of Interior within the region of Breña, Lima. It is a maze of complicated processes with individuals running to and fro like massive chickens looking for corn. The 10 story building is a dizzying assortment of weeds, dirt, corn, and stalks that you can easily trip over. Sometimes a crow will pop out and try to scare you along with the typical mid-west Scarecrow sitting somewhere acting as a security officer who will gladly tell you what documents you still need to get your paperwork in order. You have to know how you came into the maze of bureaucratic tunnels or you will somehow get lost in the maze and never find your way out. Horror be to the person that has to spend more than 6 hours in a given day in this place, but once you've found your way out with your paperwork as you wanted it to be, you will say that you had the best day of your life.
Do you know the feeling? Going into the maze, you think, oh please how will I ever accomplish this? However, on the return out of the maze, you celebrate the experience declaring that it was all worth it. Walking out, you hold your documents high with a great smile of victory spread across your face. Others look at you as though you have been in glory all along, while others look on understanding exactly how you feel. In life, we experience these moments repeatedly. I must remember as I am walking into the maze of corn journey, the emotion of what it was like to walk out the last time. In this moment, I will find a peace.
While in the maze journey of our lives, as I was on this day within the beast filled walls of the Ministry of Interior, we have encounters with people. Some look horrified while others look bored and disgusted with the tunnels of turmoil. Some tap their feet on the ground attempting to alleviate the internal boredom of maze running, while others play endless rounds of highly addictive mobile phone games. We all, regardless of race, sex, religion, orientation, gender, or economic situation, find ways to pass time. We all must endure the waiting game. The diversity begins when we discover how each of us will pass the time.
Some will pass the time with productive progress while others will pass the hours with passive regression.
You choose. I choose. How will you pass your time? We all must, and you will choose how. There is no way, that I have found until this point, a method to not pass time.
On my way through passing time in the maze of bureaucratic hurdle jumping, I went to the restroom. While I was washing and drying my hands, I looked at my face in the smudged mirror. I saw pieces of peeling skin coming off of my nose. That was awkward and I realized that it had to come off. The mirror was very small, and there were only two wash basins to wash hands and I was occupying one. There were several people coming and going out of the restroom, and I knew I was taking up space. These pieces of peeling skin had to come off, and so I wiggled closer to the mirror and stretched my neck toward the reflection to see if I could attack the skin. I had been out in Ventanilla with the scorching summer sun that causes anyone to lose skin. As I reached up to pick a few layers off of my long horse like nose, I managed to remove a few flakes.
I could tell that a few behind me wanted to take a shot at the mirror and to wash their hands.
Do you know that feeling of realizing that your time is limited but if you could just get one more?
As I wasted more of my time at the mirror, I heard a voice complaining to me and he quickly exclaimed,
"Yeah, that's fine, you've done just great on your face," the voice stated clearly with a hint or a strong undercurrent of sarcasm. Sarcasm has always been a bit of a painful subject. Its not fun to receive hurtful and sarcastic comments that rip us to shreds. Naturally a hint of sarcasm can be entertaining and at times, manageable. However, at times, the talent of sarcastic delivery can be a slicing edge of pained reactions. The voice from behind me continued,
"you look fine, and you are fine to go, your face looks fine and just please give space," the voice added. I must have not been too pleased with the last comment because out of my mouth, and I am guilty of it, so I accept fault for the shortness of my fuses,
"Please calm down," I shortly commented with precise politeness. As I turned around to face the voice, my complete soul slammed into my conscious. It was one of those crash test dummy video slams where you see the dummy bodies, all in slow motion, slowly smash into the airbags. God loves to teach me about my faults right when I need to experience the slow-motion "ness" of it all. The voice was a gentleman who had visibly been burned across at least 70% of his face and head. Tragic scars and burned scars of flesh stretched across the majority of his face. Not to cause distress to the situation, and certainly not something that I was disgusted by at all, only a surprise of humble recognition. In all complete honesty, I had been frustrated with his comments, and perhaps they were not the most kind comments spoken to me, however, regardless, the frustration or shortness of my attitude slammed me back into my place. God teaches us in the most small increments of wisdom to not bombard us with too much all at once. Only God knows that I could not handle having to change my attitude in a bat of an eye for which I thank Him for patience with me.
Who am I to become so self centered over a few pieces of flaking skin on my nose? It was a reality check of my inner soul, face to face, with another soul of a human being that is walking the journey.
Walking face to face with others along the journey is an incredible opportunity to learn where we need to grow and also to learn where we can share love. This day, in the maze of frustrated repetition, in a smelly and darkened restroom, I learned that the human journey of walking through life can be one of the most wondrous lesson building experiences when walking face to face with others, regardless of where they have been, nor where you have been. It's today and onward that will change the world.
Daniel M. Klopp
Advocate 4 Marginalized individuals & communities globally
Servant Leader
Advocate & Journalist
Photographer.
Die Daily to Self
Legacy to leave.
@danielmklopp
Do you remember how you spent your last one monetary bill? Perhaps it was a one US Dollar note, or perhaps a one EURO coin, but do you remember? Where did you spend it? What did you spend it on? Take a moment and recall to the best of your ability where that last one unit of monetary transaction occurred.
While you are remembering, I'll just take a thought onward about a dream that became a reality in my journey through the 14 years of experiencing life on the edge among South America. These young men that you see above were the original members of the Club Deportivo Dan Soccer Team that we founded back in 2009. A dream to bring unity, stability, and spirituality to the lives of young adults, children, and families that otherwise may find destiny in horrific terminations. We started with just a few that were from the community of Las Lomas, and from there, the project grew.
Little by little, what began as a planted dream of hope became what it is today. With a lot of tears, generosity, and time, the project grew into one of the most productive, positive, and life changing experiences of humanitarian outreach that stretches across all of Ventanilla. One of the most humbling aspect of this program is that the Club Deportivo Dan Soccer Team and its Club is the only Club in all of Perú, South America that requires its participants to sign a contract to adhere to pro-social behaviors, inclusive of studying, staying off the streets, off drugs, and attending a Youth Group at least two out of four times a month. Within that contract is where life change occurs. The emotional sense of family, the connection, the relationship, and the soccer ball truly draws wandering spirits to a family of unity.
The family bond of unity that can never be broken that is fundamentally found in a relationship with God. There I have witnessed the life change for all of eternity. Even through the experience of death in this physical plane, it does not separate the eternal experience of love. Love is what passes through death and remains the connection we share with others after they have departed. I know that the memories I cherish with my mom, founded in love, will be the very cord of connection that will never separate us until one day when eternity rolls up to beckon me home, and for which, I hope is so very soon. Nearly one year ago that cord was extended once again. Part of experiencing the journey of community is the challenging and most delicate balance of tightrope dips that bring gulping fear of plunging into the abyss of unknowing. It was a normal week. They are always normal weeks. When we reflect back on tragic events, often the days leading up to the event are always classified as "normal."
With the highly active schedule, often times my ability to engage in "chat" on social media remains very slim, and sometimes I am for whatever reason, not very reliable on keeping up with chat conversations with those that we work with in the community. It could be a fault of mine, but nonetheless, I find it hard to frequently engage on "chat" in social media due to the demands of the workload here in Perú.
This, sadly, has become the demise of my conscious. Several times, individuals seeking an encouraging word or a word of affirmation, or just someone that will listen have contacted me via social media chat. Sadly, because I always blamed my "work schedule", I never responded. For that, I regret the absence of being present. They were, for a few, the last words that were ever spoken to me by some of our loved friends here in Perú.
I will never forget the morning for the rest of my breathing moments. It had been a very busy weekend, with several appointments and engagements. I had received several text messages to one of my accounts from one of our most charismatic soccer players from the Club Deportivo Dan. Ronald was one of those great young men whose life was changed through the presence of others that encouraged him onward. He had come from some challenging circumstances, and through the beautiful experience of living in community, he engaged the outreach programs that we had implemented back in 2008. You could see his journey changing, and as he grew older, he took on the rough patches along the course of life, and in stride, he overcome obstacles that often are present in such harsh and violent environments. Life in the street was never easy, nor should it ever be for a young adult, but Ronald overcame the worst and rose above with an inner strength that I know came from a personal relationship with God.
One of most hysterical and energy filled young adults, Ronald had a way of indirectly mentoring others. He knew what was going down and he know how to bring others in to protect them from the wicked turns in the street life that resulted in horrific challenges. Climbing out of personal adversary, Ronald took on life's brutal blows with a positive strength that brought him a stable income, a beautiful wife, and child. I remember those first few years of knowing Ronald, and I remember how grateful I was for his wise advice of how to be more careful in the streets of Ventanilla. He would always teach me new "slang" of the street talk and make me practice my "slang Spanish" with him. We would sit on the cement steps of the soccer court outside the Voices4Peru Private School and banter back and forth. He became one of the closet team members to others as well, and often times rolled as Captain for various games for Club Deportivo Dan.
On a Friday night, I had just gotten home from Ventanilla, and I had seen that Ronald had written me a few messages trying to get a hold of me on social media. I was exhausted and I didn't have a chance to write as I fell asleep on the couch. The morning on Saturday went quickly, and didn't get a chance to complete all of the tasks of getting caught up on social media, and remembered in my mind that I would get back to Ronald that evening. That evening, I returned back to the flat and once again fell asleep on the couch. Waking up quite early around 5am, I saw a message on Facebook that my colleague had posted on the alarming death of Ronald. He had been sleeping in his home, heard fighting and fled to the house of where there was a party. A family member of his had been fighting over money that someone owed. A gun was brandished by the opposing group, and Ronald stepped in to defend his family member. Shot in the stomach, Ronald bled to death within 30 minutes. By the time that they found transportation to even get him down to the hospital about 15 minutes away, he was dead. Gone. Senseless murder. A precious life escaped. I never got to say goodbye. So many opportunities to talk with him had crossed my path, but I never took the opportunity because I was too busy. Too busy. What an excuse. How horrific was my attitude before that I would brush someone away of quality time? We carried his casket. We buried him. We mourn him. I walked up that hill once again that I call home in my sweet spot that I love and know where God has called me from. We walked, carrying his body from his home to where we used to sit on the cement steps and talk. We walked down memory lane to honor the legacy he leaves. He still leaves it through the lives of others. I will never be the same again.
We miss you Ronald. We love you and we honor, cherish, and remember everything. Celebrate with Him as we celebrate your legacy. Thank you for teaching me so many lessons and thank you for demonstrating grace in action from the love of God.
Daniel M. Klopp
Advocate 4 Marginalized individuals & communities globally
Servant Leader
Advocate & Journalist
Photographer.
Die Daily to Self
Legacy to leave.
@danielmklopp