In two months my internship here is over. That’s crazy. In less than three months, I will have moved here a year ago. How do some days seem to go on forever, and some years slip straight through our fingers? In my still-not-quite-a-year I have grown immensely. I have learned so much. I feel like I’ve taken bounds in my relationship with my sweet Jesus. He has cultivated my heart more and more and is each day revealing new parts of me.
Before Colombia, I had not danced during worship in years. I remember a time where I did. I was somewhere between seven and ten years old. I would try to twist into the aisles to have space to dance, but the church told my mom I was a fire hazard. After that I did not dance, and from there I think the desire to do so got squished. When I got here, it was like the flood of dancing overcame the dam. Now, I dance. I sway, I fall on my knees. It’s as if my words are not solely sufficient, my feet want to move, my hands want to exclaim the words on my lips, my fingers want to feel heaven.
Before Colombia, I did not speak Spanish. I had a miserable time in Spanish classes. My brain never truly clocked in languages. But here, I learned. I’m on my way to fluent. I have full, real conversations in a language I didn’t comprehend a lick of eight months ago.
Before Colombia I did not have a wildly fun, deeply authentic friendship. And now I have Geraldine. Who, best news of my life, just received permission to visit me in Chicago. Moving to Colombia, I never imagined I would meet someone who would become so important to me. Right now, it blows my mind that I have my intricately crafted, messy yet perfect tribe in America that hasn’t collided with my very petite, wild, tightly knit tribe, here. How on earth can it feel so much like I have two worlds? Not for long. Gera, sweet friend, is bound for Chicago, God-willing, this winter. Shameless plug, if you’d like to contribute to my “Chicago meets Gera” fund, message me and I’ll send you the information. I can’t wait for my tribe to know her.
So all of this growth and some. All of this beauty and some. All of this and some. How does the end of that not come with a bitterly sad flavor? How do you know you are possibly closing the door on what you consider the best you’ve had yet, without feeling a deep hurt in heart. I never thought I would be ok here- but I have had some of my best thriving here. I never thought I would ever have a deep friend again, but I’ve met the friend of a lifetime. I never thought I would lead worship again, even that is happening. How do you walk knowing that in the end of the waiting, you could have to wave goodbye to that all.
I am not a fan of being in waiting. And I’m pretty sure that is why I continue to find myself here; learning to seek and discover joy even in the nothingness. God, I am clueless to your timeline for me. I am unsure of the next. And you are faithful. You are good. You are the best. I am not afraid, or worried or in the slightest bit concerned. I’ll find you in the waiting and it’ll be great. If you’re a praying person, you can pray for clarity and guidance and closeness to Abba.
Also, today I almost exploded when sweet friend’s parents decided that she could travel to Chicago… so HECK YES! This friendship is going global. Secret that is no longer a secret, I am most excited for her to meet Uncle Kevin; they remind me of each other and while I was in the States, the two of those nut heads had a thirty minute skype conversation.
I think that’s all that’s new, oh, and when a team was praying over me today they said something new. Radiating joy is something people usually say, but they added that I bring freedom. Whoa! Awesomeness.
Okay, signing off!