i've changed

 I made a trip to my adult growing-up years: Boston. 

Not only was it long overdue to see my friends turned family, it was time for a change of scenery. I haven’t written in a while. Mostly because I’ve been blocked by transition pains and I constantly feel like I’m blaming my moody emotional state on Honduras. I didn’t want to complain or “woe-is-me” it on paper, so I stopped writing. But I think it’s time to jump back in. 

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Now more than ever I can feel the difference inside me, the changes of my heart. These past two years altered life dramatically. And not just for little ole missionary Melissa, but for the entire world. My friends’ lives are different. Their focus has adjusted. Their living situations have adapted. Their goals have shifted. I didn’t waltz back into Boston where things left off when I squeezed my people goodbye. Noooo. Life moved forward and change swooped in. 

But the change I felt was good. I could see that the sticky growing pains in our time apart nurtured sweeter fruits. Rich self-realizations were made countered with deep losses that continue to be mourned. Still, in each person I encountered, no matter where they landed after the strangest two years, I felt a budding hope. Jesus is kinda cool like that. Always taking care of us with, in and through times of dryness and confusion. We don’t always see the presently-secret garden He’s gently tending. Until one day we wake up and realize what’s been beautifully growing inside us all along. 

I was blessed to finally have that realization. It was like scales had fallen from my eyes, all discouragment left me, and great consolation flooded my heart. My six months of a bumpy rollercoaster transition with twists and turns, throwing my heart about suddenly evened into a joyful ride on an inner tube floating along with the lazy river.

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It was so important to go back to the place I was before Honduras. To see people who love me, to share in deep heart conversations with community, and to physically be in places that brought me comfort and senses of home. I needed to remember who I was before I struggled with Spanish, washed my clothes in a pila, sobbed over 16-year-olds’ sass, vulnerably shared my heart with strangers who became family. 

I needed to feel the change. And once I recognized it…I was free. 

All of a sudden I physically longed for the new life the Lord had given me in my slow, small, childhood town. With my silly, handsome, so-caring Levi and our families just a stone’s throw away. I couldn’t wait to fully embrace this rather uncomfortable season of in-between, to selfishly find my own place (I’m seriously looking if you hear of anything), to navigate remote-consulting work and supplement with fun a side-gig, to explore my thoughts on paper and be brave enough to submit my heart work, to live into the heat and humidity of summertime activities, to make local unexpected friends and build community, to volunteer my time as an adult who has some applicable lived-experience. 

My mind’s eye refocused and my heart re-centered on my little vocation to love. 

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So, dear readers. I encourage you to reflect on your own journey these past two years. Maybe you need to physically go to the place you were before or maybe you just need to close your eyes and remember.

Do you feel the change within you? Own it. 

All the highs. All the lows. All the ways It’s made you grow and stretch. Give praise and thanksgiving for every inch of change. For it is good. And it’s all in His plan. 

Go in peace.