This Pondering Heart

As I'm neck deep in transition (again), I've found myself weepy at every turn.  I'm ready to leave Guatemala. I'm tired of (attempting to) formally learn Spanish. I'm eager to officially unpack my bag for longer than 7 weeks. I'm excited about being able to control the food portions I eat. I'm restless to finally be at the place I've been called to.  But with that restlessness comes nerves. And anxiety, questions, doubts, fears, and my usual dash of tears. Again I've found myself face to face with darkness.  I've been at my lowest here, with nobody who knows the deepest parts of my heart to physically pick me up. I'm no stranger to desperation in crying to mi maestra 3 days in a row or sitting in front of Christ in Adoration and feeling nothing. I've been tricked into invalidating every word and feeling that crossed my mind. And the ground is worn where I knelt sobbing asking Jesus where He was in my suffering, why He had left me in...

Horrified I spit out my food and profusely apologized for the words that came out of my mouth.  I couldn't believe I uttered, "Que bueno" after Sara told me her grandmother (la bisabuela de los ninos) had just died. That day.  And to top it off, it was one of those days where I felt I would never learn Spanish. School was hard. I left feeling defeated. And my morale was very low (bottom of the barrel).  I had a horrific coffee that afternoon that made my stomach upset so when dinner rolled around I was just focusing on keeping everything down.  I usually know what's going on at the dinner table, especially when I put my energy into it, but that night I zoned out and thought I could ride on a few words here and there. I thought Sara was telling me about the visitors that had been at the house just an hour earlier. I thought we were having light conversation. I thought wrong.  "Que bueno!" Sara literally stopped in her tracks. Paola gasped. Pablit...

Cinco semanas en Guatemala. Five weeks in that I've been put through quite the spiritual wringer. Aye Dios (as Paola would say).  I'm happy to report that I'm doing a lot better. My days are lighter. Tengo m á s confianza en mi espa ñ ol (m á s que yo llegu é ), and now that my new six missionary friends are all here standing beside me, I feel stronger.  It's quite incredible what I have learned in just a short amount of time. I haven't exactly been able to pin down how Central America is molding and moving my heart, but trust and humility are two major themes surfacing.  Nothing is quite more humbling than navigating a "normal" life in a place where you can't walk out onto the street and easily strike up a conversation con tu vecina.  Imagine: It's a new day. The sun is shining. You got your workout in (thanks, Ryan). You eat a delicious eggy breakfast. You step outside and are immediately engulfed in an unfamiliar world. You thought you k...

When your entire world changes and you’ve been stripped of effective communication with everyone around you, a lot is going through your head.  The first two weeks here were hard. Like the kind of hard where it was difficult for me to find joy in the every day. To get out of bed. To feel Christ. To understand why I thought I could do something like this.  Questions of doubt and pure exhaustion continue to fill my days, but little by little I’m adjusting. I’m learning how to be okay with uncomfortable (this is mostly supported in prayer). I’m being humbled by the realization that I’m a 25 year old who has a child’s vocabulary and speaking ability.  So yeah, it’s still not easy, but the people are helping me get through.  ----------- My host fam. I already gushed about these personas bondadosas, I am aware. But they have welcomed me into their home and lives in such a special way.  I have spent hours (combined) playing games with Paola and Pablito (I ha...

Two posts in one week? She must be bored out of her mind in Guatemala.  I told you I’d be staying pretty connected while I’m studying and writing is so cathartic (only my fav way to digest, reflect and express my feelings). Por eso, you’re getting inundated (at least for now). -------- It’s hard to believe I’ve been in Central America for a full week. When people have reached out to me their first question is usually, “How are you?”  I don’t even know how to properly answer that because the range of emotions I feel in the first 4 minutes of every day marks all the colors in a rainbow.  But for a while now I’ve landed on being in a bit of a slump (one that has me feeling quite similar to the days when I’d cry at the color yellow). It’s discouragement and fear and an ugly dash of pride all globbed together convincing my rational thinking I’m not smart, good, worthy enough to be here, to catch onto the Spanish language, to fulfill this call. It’s trying to hu...

¿ Me veo nativo de Guatemala? Probably never will, but I’m working really hard on sounding like one.  I feel like I’ll be waking up from this dream at any minute. That the smells of la Ciudad Vieja will fade, my host family’s fast-paced voices will become muffled, and almost like it never happened, I’ll be back home in Estados Unidos con mi padres y hermano . But every morning I continue to open my eyes in a new bed, immersed in an unfamiliar culture. This is real. I’m living in Guatemala.  -------------- I’ve been surprised at how at peace I feel. I had a mini panic attack on the drive to the airport (definitely due to sheer anticipation) and a minor internal meltdown when the airline almost didn’t let me go through security because my return flight home was nonexistent, but mostly I’ve been embraced con una calma .  I credit this to the prayers you’ve rained down, to my patron saint of this entire journey (Saint Therese), and my loving Mother Mary who has...

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...