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