2 august 2012

reading over old journal entries, and thought this one was worth re-writing.

it's been quite some time since i've picked up a pencil & let my thoughts spill across paper.
i think it is because things make more sense written out. it allows me to think clearly, but there's alot of issues i struggle with that i want to ignore, so i don't write. no writing = less conviction.

i have been reading so much more frequently- books with lovely ideas and concepts that push me to think deeply about life, and how i am living it. i think it'd be quite easy for me to become consumed with travelling and departure and letting go of shit i've known. running away, some might say. a part of me feels like i want to find myself, my niche, my purpose. i'm so un-figured out. i want to roam, to love, to see, to discover, to create, to live simply, to depend and depend not. i think the saddest part of travelling to new places is that, in the process, you leave behind parts of yourself in people and peoples you've grown to love-- and in leaving, you've now got all these empty parts, and sometimes you become so riddled with holes that you just keep leaving in search of new pieces that'll fit. and when you return, it's never the way it was when you left. people go on without you. places change and take new shape. so you find that maybe you aren't as important as you thought you were. after all, it seems that we're all just wandering souls in search of others to fix, complete, fill us.

nicole said that "a small piece of us is everywhere we experience change." i want to list all the places that i rest in:
         mexico
         stevens point
         fort wilderness
         sheboygan
         neenah
         sauk
         edgerton
i am in all these places, and all these places are within me. i want to find myself in so many more. i want to travel to the East Coast- where exactly, i dont know- and to Oregon, and to Egypt, and to Greece, and to Africa, and wherever. I want to live in different houses, living simply yet beautifully always, and to be careful with my roots. sometimes i wonder if i ever want to settle. i think what scares me is expending my heart (if i ever do) and not seeing people again- missing them till i ache.

endings

...they have never been my favorite.
today it all came to an end- the eighteen weeks of community, of growing from strangers all the way into family; we graduated and went our separate ways. The stretch of time that has past has been incredibly impactful, and I literally have no idea how all of a sudden I’m at the end. And I think it’d be easy to be all like “oh it never really happened” to avoid crying and missing the heck out of this family, but the truth is, I’m coming out of this changed. Feeling a bit lost, but changed. Lost in terms of, I’m without this specific family. The thing is, a lot of the time, I place a huge emphasis on where I am and who I’m with at the present moment (like, the interim I’m in), and once I leave that interim, I’m shot to pieces. I place a lot of importance on those who surround me as family.

Right now, I’m laying on my bed in the now-vacated room of what used to be our little house. I just want to rest and cry and rewind, honestly. It’s the weirdest feeling to be done, and have all the spectacular memories in the past, where they can’t be reached. To be honest, I’m a bit scared of going back to the States- of falling into routine, of falling into old habits, of falling into a sea of confusion. Really what God is drilling into my head right now is Hey love, I’m all you have, and I am more than enough. I am passing through this door, and voyaging into the next expedition. The last five months of my life were my favorite, I think. But I know that God wants to do even more. And for that, I am expectant.

the jump.

Who knows why, but I climbed up to the top of the precipice, looming three meters above the water. For me, it’s a long way down- I have irrational fear of hurling myself, freefall, into water. I’m okay with rollercoasters, cus you’re strapped in and secure, but with water, anything can happen. It was the second time we had gone to the river to bathe, and I followed Alisha and the boys to the second part, higher up, with the jump off part.

There are six others up on top with me, and for a couple minutes, I stand at the edge, thinking, trying to work up the guts. They don’t come, and so our leader, Rene, propels himself off, and then waits for the rest us at the bottom. Next, Lalo asks me “if I jump, will you jump?” I say yes. He jumps. I still wait. Lorenzo shoots himself off next, all of a sudden, and then Paulo. Brayan’s the last one up there with me, and asks me the same question as Lalo. I tell him yes, and he says “you’re sure?” and I’m like “yes!!” So he leaps off, and then I’m up there all alone. I bring myself to the edge, hesitantly. By this time, it’s been about fifteen minutes, the whole rigmarole of “no, you go first! Let me think for a little bit more”, battling back and forth in my mind whether I was capable, unable to squish my doubts of whether my shirt would come up again (happened the day before, and luckily no one saw-eep!) or whether I’d smash into a rock or if I couldn’t shoot myself far enough off.

Finally Rene’s like “Just come down if you’re not gonna jump! You’re gonna hurt yourself if you’re unsure.” And I’m all like ‘dangit, no I can’t be chicken, I’ve got to do this, come on keti’. And so three times I plug my nose, bend my knees… and then straighten up and yell “WAHHH OH MY GOD I CAN’T DO THIS!” and I don’t know how it happened, but the fourth time, maybe I was gutsy enough to start pushing myself over the edge, and tried to catch myself but couldn’t, so just heaved myself off, but there I was in the air! And the air part is what I hate the most, because literally there is zero control. It’s like the breath is crushed out of you, and your legs are all soft and shaky, and you just feel sick! But then in one second I was under water, then coming up, smiling and saying “I DID IT YEAHH!”

i think this is sometimes what our faith looks like. like oh goodness if I share this prophetic word with her, she’s going to think im bat crap crazy or God are You forreals sure about this cus maybe You’re wrong or what if I look like a fool and honestly the list of our doubts is endless. God’s workings are of the Spirit, and ours are of the flesh, so they’re always going to be in discord! our flesh is always going to go against what the Holy Spirit tells us. but the truth of the matter is, we need to take leaps of faith- we need to put our faith into action. it is then when our faith will finally be exercised, be tested, and grow stronger. God doesn’t call us to stand on the edge- He calls us to plunge in and take part in what He’s doing. this is the adventure, folks! and don’t get me wrong, it’s crazy scary at times, and sometimes we don’t think we’re capable, but if we shoot ourselves off the brink, God is going to follow through and see us to victory. 

14 June 2013

So we just got back from our missions trip to the state of Oaxaca. I don’t want to cram everything into one giganto post, so I’m going to just brush over a few of the important-er things through several bittier posts.

            We (nine of the viñeros-one stayed back- Rene, the pastor, and Fabian, the supervisor) visited three pueblos in Oaxaca: Chalcatongo, Itundujia, and Hidalgo. At each of them is a different church branch of Naciones, the churches that Jerry planted originally, part of the ministry of Living Hope International. We did two services at each branch, one structured like a normal service (worship, sharing a message, prayer) and the other a more intimate worship session with praying for others with physical or emotional needs (we call them CIA’s). They were all different but all beautiful, and for each one of them we also had a kid’s class prepared separate.

            We got to see different walks of life, different manners of living.  For example, on the eleventh, in Hidalgo, I journalled:

“Most extreme missions trip, in terms of living differently than the US. Haha. Latrines with designated sections for your pee and poop. Better aim careful! Also, there’s not a lack of little venomous scorpions in the area, and we slept on the concrete floor last night! Honestly, I tried to sleep on two chairs, but after two hours, ya no aguanto. It was almost unbearably hot to sleep in my sleeping bag, but I didn’t want to sleep in the open air for fear of bugs. We were pleasantly woken up at 5:30 by a rooster on his way out of this world. May your exit be quick and painless.”

This not to say I wasn’t grateful for their hospitality and generosity- moreso, just to mark the difference that there are different ways of living, in contrast with the States, that function well. It just took a bit to adjust to.

            Each one of us had to “preach”, or share a message, for at least 15 minutes, during one of the services. I spoke on change, leaving things behind to encounter God’s will for your life, and it went well. I was a bit nervous, and spoke somewhat fast, but I think all in all, it went better than I thought. Slowly learning to guts up.

            This trip brought us all so much closer together. It’s sad that we’re graduating in a week, but at least most of us are staying for the internship and will be able to see each other again.

rain

you know how raindrops bring you down to earth with them? even when you’re in a different country, when it starts raining, it turns you all soft and nostalgic and wondery --watching the lightning shoot jaggedly across the gray sky from inside the mini as if it were a firework show. when it rains so hard, you can barely look outside without feeling dizzy cus the windows are so blurry- i love that. rain makes me feel like i’m at home, no matter where i am in the world. it has this organic, mysterious way of tying together every place you’ve ever been, ever loved. and it’s because there are memories attached to each droplet, stories that each one carry, stories of running outside in the spring rainfall as a little blonde four-year-old in your swimsuit, of dancing in the dark drizzle at youthgroup with your old best friend, of driving five miles an hour in a blinding downpour with a boy that never really loved you, of the night before you left for college and it was storming something fierce and all you wanted was the one you loved beside you. rainfall, however it does fall, carries that feeling of light sadness blended with rising hope, and waters the dreams borne inside your chest. 

31.May.2013

This week’s been pretty awesome.

-         This Wednesday, we went to the market for the last time, and literally got more donations than we’ve ever received in the past fifteen weeks. It was unreal. Starting out, I had a really bad attitude, cus I was with the same group for the billionth time, and the Mexican men were being incredibly grocero (whistling and trying to get my attention with words that are borderline inappropriate), and I was just not having any desire to be there. I kept praying for patience and tolerance, and things got a little better, but I was still grumpy, haha. I think we eventually winded up with 5 huge boxes of mangos, and every time we went to drop off another load in the mini bus, I would stuff myself with bananas or mangos or litches or carrots. #healthyoverindulging. There was one instance where it only took literally less than ten minutes to fill our whole cart and return back to the bus with yet another load. At the end, we had to cram three people to a seat cus the rest of the mini was full to the gills. As we waited for our driver to get back from his last run, we gorged ourselves on wine-soaked cheese, regular cheese, avocados, bananas, and whatever else we were hungry for. It was glorious, except that I felt so bloated I couldn’t move. And then Richie, our driver, returned with tortillas to make avocado tacos, and I decided I could fit in three of those. #youknowyoureinLaViñawhen…

-         On Monday, we had our Extreme Challenge, which originally was sposed to be an eight-hour hike to the “Paso de Cortes” (a spot inbetween Mt Popo and the Sleeping Lady, the two volcanos), except here’s the thing: the volcano is like two seconds from exploding apparently, along with spouting as much ash as a truck driver would spout swear words after blowing a tire. So that got nixed real fast. Instead, we had to walk 16 miles with 20 pounds on our backs, with 8 of those miles including mildly-to-wildly inclined terrain. Basically we left EV, walked to and climbed the dead baby volcano, walked back down it, walked a million miles to another big, never-ending baby mountain, conquered it, then walked all the way back to EV. 8 AM to 3 AM. The last four miles, my feet were practically splitting from the endless trekking. So after eating lunch, all of us slept until supper, which was quite well-deserved.

-         Three groups are here this week, from the States, and it’s been nice to chat with them at random intervals. I had the blessing to help translate with a mini-eye-clinic that one group was running, and talk to guys my dad’s age about their ministry. One guy from another group, Jonathan Gibson, has been holding night classes with us, and last night during his question-and-answer session, I randomly turned around to look out the window and literally saw the most glorious cloudscape I’ve ever witnessed. It was literally like the glory of God manifested in the clouds- absolutely, supernaturally wondrous.

Those are all the big things I’ve got for this week. Of course, there’s much more going on, and I’d write about it, except for I don’t have a lot of time to (hehe) and other things should just be kept to ourselves. But it is evident God is working in us, bringing our bad characteristics to light so we can deal with them and let go of them and transform. Sometimes it’s a rough process, but always with the purpose to better us and grow us closer together. 

really growing up

I’m getting this sick kind of feeling about growing up. It’s all bittersweet. I am finding myself in the midst of this ocean, pulled farther and farther away from shore, having to let go of things I once held dear, throwing overboard some of what is close to me. I’m beginning to learn to sail by myself- making my own decisions, learning through mistakes- all while being blown by the winds of the Spirit. Sometimes I forget I’m in a different country, I forget that this isn’t just another short interim- I’m now committed for a year, to work and serve here. And then when I realize the landscape is different from what I’ve grown up around, I realize as well I’m surrounded by different, new friends; a different language; different humor; different cultural references; different food; different way of life. And this is growing up. Every season has an end, a mourning process. This is what I find myself in right now. A stage of bittersweet mourning, a spell of shipwreckedness and transformation.

I get alarmingly seasick when I look too far into the future, because I realize it’s out of my hands. It’s not going to look the same as my past, which was comfortable, because I had twenty years of accustoming and adjusting to it, and settling it into my bones. And now the panorama infront of me is clouded over, and I can’t trust my own way of seeing things- I have to wholly rely on the Sustainer to lead me through the fog, because there’s no way this little girl soul can navigate it.

I’ll be honest, the worst part about growing up is cutting off this seven-year friendship. It is enough to push me up against the rocks. My heart is shredding. I don’t feel like doing anything but lying around, drowning in sad music. But in our points of deepest weakness, of most pressing struggles, of greatest ache—here is where we have the opportunity to grow. We can either wallow around in the valley of death, cutting ourselves further open with memories and songs and pictures, or we can shift our focus to the sky, to the slopes that lead us out of the valley, sewing and patching ourselves back together with things positive and encouraging. It is a battle undoubtedly, and a constant one at that, but forever worth the fight.