This Pondering Heart

I’m afraid I don’t have time to make this final post written in the states an eloquent one, but I wanted to throw down the random thoughts that keep surfacing on my heart (bear with me through the rocky transitions).  ---------- I’m at a full on sprint toward Honduras. Nothing is stopping me. I’m rolling into this like the giant snowball in that childhood book that caught everything in its path (does anyone else remember this?).  I’m excited. And nervous. But mostly afraid I won’t be able to handle my 70 pound suitcase and stuffed backpack (I want to bring so many books with me) once I actually hit the ground in Guatemala.  Despite these trepidations, I am confident it will work out. My anticipation has bubbled up and I’m just ready to go out and live this experience fully, intentionally and with great purpose.  -------- I feel like I could sleep for 48 hours straight (my brain could probably use the rest). I’ve been emotionally stretched and physicall...

You can find me in the corner of the room laugh-crying because I can’t believe my time in this city has expired.  --------------- My final adieu has been a long time coming. But God gave me three bonus months so my goodbye wasn’t rushed. For too much of my time here I was simply going through the motions, just living each day not able to see the shine of this time in my life.  Never again will I be 25 years young, living with two incredibly generous friends, have such easy access to the city of Boston, be comfortable in a meaningful job, work alongside many people I call my friends, and be in proximity to an entire community I’ve built from nothing.  --------------- I’ve done my best to slow moments down, committing them to memory in a way I hope I’ll never soon forget. I’ve breathed in feelings, emotions, and truly relished every inch of this space while I was in it: Like the time I led my last Rosary at work. I held it (mostly) together while praying bu...

18 days. That's all the time I have left in this community I consider home. My to-do list is long, my must-do list is even longer; it’s a hodgepodge of chores, ideas, activities floating around my head surfacing only when they’re desperately forced to gasp for air. I’m constantly crying. When my coworkers give me a longing look, someone I least expect generously supports my mission, or friends reminisce about a time we shared, tears immediately fall. And if I’m not silently sobbing, my head is in my hands, eyes squeezed tightly shut and I try to pull it together before I have a total meltdown in comprehending these hard goodbyes. Needless to say, I was in an emotional and mental place that required someone to get me moving, someone who knows me to my bones and loves me more than anyone. Luckily my sister is a planner, and was able to take an extended weekend to help order my chaos.  . I've always known how lucky I was to have a sister, let alone a sister I consider ...

I recently returned from an introductory retreat for my upcoming mission to Finca del Nino. And I’m carrying a wave of emotions with me as I settle back into Boston for the last time (the final stretch is here). Meeting (some of) my community was a blessing as we were able to take a minute to really begin to get to know each other (newsflash: they’re all awesome). Bonds were quickly formed and I’m already looking forward to spending a whole lot more time with them, as the ultimate goal is to sneak my way into each of their hearts. Aside from the opportunity of meeting my new family (yup, we’re already on that level), I walked away with a more tangible-ness of the finca, the children, and everything else that’s ahead of me this next year and a half. Let me tell you, I’m a jumble of nerves and excitement. We reflected a lot on the mission and after learning more about the inner workings of “a day in the life of a missionary,” we were asked to explore our own personal call to se...

I sometimes wonder how long it would take for people to realize I was dead. Pretty dark, right? But it’s true. I honestly don’t have that one person who would notice or be alarmed if I didn’t pick up my phone, answer a text right away or even come home late. It would probably take 13-15 hours for someone in my immediate community to realize something was amiss (Anne would eventually send out an amber alert). And by that time it’d probably be too late. Which then catapultes my thinking into who would come to my funeral, what they’d say to my parents or if they’d remember our last conversation. I wonder if they would’ve taken the chance to ask me out for coffee or looked me dead in the eye and told me I was important to them if they knew our time was limited. And then I consider what I would do if roles were reversed. We’re so quick to put things off. The little stuff: calling your sister later, rescheduling your lunch date to next Wednesday, cleaning the cookie sheet in ...

Sometimes you need someone to look you dead in the eye and tell you you’re okay. That despite the wild choices you made or the leaps of faith you took, the tailwind of overwhelm and confusion you feel is valid but you’re okay . --------------- My childhood bestie got married last week in always-sunny Mexico on a perfectly windy evening with the sand in our toes and salty tears streaming down literally every person’s face. It was exactly the wedding she had always dreamed of. Her dress was magically flowy (illuminating her sea goddess glow), the setting was intimate, and the subtly crashing waves framed the entire scene like a moment captured in slow motion. Thirty-one people watched with welled-up gazes (I’m telling ya there wasn’t a dry eye on the beach) as her dad confidently, gently and lovingly handed over the beautiful bride to one of the kindest, honest, most stand-up guys I know. We all danced the night away (right on the beach, I might add), got a little crazy (as o...

¡Hola mis amigos! I told you it wasn’t a joke, I’m actually going to Honduras. I’m in the beginning stages of packing up my apartment, buying plane tickets, saying messy goodbyes (or see you laters) and trying to train my brain to think in Spanish. I cry at least once a day (happy and sad tears) when I think too hard about my growing checklist and the place I’m about to leave. But I mostly feel this incredible peace and comfort when I reflect on all that has transpired since my official commitment. I want to thank you for bearing with me as I endure this emotional roller coaster. With friends and family like you I’m never far from a hug, listening ear or shared prayer. Which brings me to another way I can use your support. As unpaid volunteers, we are asked to raise $10,000 that will go directly toward costs of basic living, health insurance, language school, transportation and expenses of the children’s home. I feel very blessed to have been selected to work within this faith-fi...