Rachel Zimmerman

I have a weird relationship with cars. Cars feel safe to me. To me a car is a contained space, with door locks, temperature controls, whatever music I want to listen to, even a sunroof for a beautiful day. Windows that roll up and down, the opportunity to interact with the outside world, but under my control, my push of the button, my choice. My mom drove us around from school to activities to sports when I was a child. In between school and gymnastics, mom would park the car, and we would catch a quick nap before I went into the gym and practiced gymnastics with as much effort as I could muster for 4 hours. When I started driving, I would catch a nap in my car before gymnastics practice. I've spent a lot of time driving in various cars - with and without friends and family, in and out and through different states. In Haiti, I didn't have a vehicle to drive for the first 7 months I lived there. I was dependent on my Haitian brothers to drive me places. I was stripped o

I decided quite a while ago I'm pretty stoked about turning 30 and here's a few reasons why: 1. By 30 I've done a lot of the work to know who I am (heck, if I've done some work, imagine how much work God has done on my behalf!) 2. No one tells you the 20's are going to be a bit of a crapshoot. First existential crisis? In my 20s First identity crisis? In my 20s First time seeing a counselor on my own to work through this stuff? In my 20s Realizing the dysfunction in my family and my role in that system? In my 20s First professional job/adulting? In my 20s 3. By 30, I feel so much more comfortable in my own skin. I have an idea of how my body works - how it responds to stress, what foods work best with it, the ideal weight for me, what sort of exercise it needs, and more than ever, how to listen to my body. By now, I've lived in this temple for 30 years and I've started to realize how lucky I am to have this functioning body, this vessel that i

I took my passport to the post office today to spend quite a bit of money to get my passport renewed. Thirty six.  Thirty six stamps representing 36 times I came and went from Haiti over the past 3 years. Thirty six stamps of privilege to be able to have an American passport and travel freely. Thirty six times to navigate the airport and all its chaos and complexity. Thirty six stamps to represent how I now feel, as though I have two homes and I am always missing one no matter where I am.  Thirty six stamps of the come-and-go missionary life. The transient life. The life that I laid down in service, pursuit of justice, and absolute love for a new home. Thirty six stamps represent how much my 'developed world' passport including Spain, Italy, France, Great Britain, Monaco, the Netherlands, and Belgium was crashed under the new weight of how the 'rest of the world' lives.   Thirty six stamps to witness how well-meaning people from developed

Eight Years ago today marks one of the worst days in Haitian history. 8 years ago Haiti experienced an earthquake centered in Leogane that shook the whole country to a scale of 7.1 magnitude. Roughly 300,000 people died on January 12, 2010 but no one will ever truly know the count. Everyone I know in Haiti has a story about the earthquake, those they know who died and how God spared them and others. Citizens that pitched in to help for days, weeks, months without a paycheck. An entire generation, multiple generations who know trauma up-close and personal. Expats who were there during the earthquake and maybe still are there now and what a powerful impact this had on their lives... and maybe are still in need of healing from the wounds and trauma that were experienced. After the earthquake, the world raised 15 billion dollars for Haiti relief. Ask any Haitian and they'll tell you they never saw a cent of that money but the Red Cross workers sure did stay at the nicest ho