The conclusion of an incredible semester

My heart hurts.

Facts: I have lived in a foreign country for the last 3 and a half months. I have built friendships with individuals from all over America. I have shared meals with a Spanish couple almost every single day for the semester. I had to leave all of that yesterday.

The result?

My heart hurts.

I was uneasy when I finally reached Chicago after a 10-hour flight yesterday. After hearing the soothing Spanish language being spoken around me for months, hearing so much English literally made me feel on edge. Spanish is beautiful and so easy to tune out, but English is blaring, and petty conversations spoken by strangers were inevitable to overhear. I found myself getting upset at the high water level in the toilet and everything else American I noticed. I was in a state of discomfort in that airport, and I think it all stemmed from the goodbyes that so quickly became a reality. I was alone in America, away from the country and people that were my life for so long. My heart was panging with pain.

Since Chicago, I have arrived to my house and began the transition to the changes in time, weather, surroundings, and language. I’ve adjusted pretty well so far, (but dang it’s cold) and I’m overall pretty positive and hopeful about these next three weeks and my next semester.

In the midst of all of this, I have been considering what “home” really means to me, and thinking back to when I felt God speak to me this semester. Over these past couple months, I have comfortably built my haven in a small apartment in Sevilla, a hostel with 7 strangers, an apartment with strangers, a plane ride, a room in sketchy Naples, and in hotels. I slept in all these places. I dwelled in these places for a time. I found peace, comfort, happiness, and security in all of these places: so much so, that it’s this painful to leave those experiences. Now, I’m back at my parents’ house, but I’m not even staying here for long before I move back to college.

I shared a lot of sappiness in my last blog, and I am very much feeling lots of gratefulness and amazement for the semester that just ended. I’m reflecting on what the Lord has taught and shown me, and with that, I just want to pose a question:

I’ve arrived at my house, but am I home?

Confused emotions; wild thoughts

The goodbyes are getting serious now. I have a week left in Sevilla, Spain: 7 days, 21 meals, and 5 days of school.

            I’m struggling to write about this because I simply don’t know how I feel, and I really don’t know how to express it.

            I want to say that my emotions are a perfectly balanced equation of bittersweet, but that doesn’t adequately describe it. There’s more of a profound weight to it. Can all my experiences and moments here fit into a simple description or equation of how I feel about leaving?

            Physical transitions have always been hard for me. Even when I’m at college preparing to go home for a break or at home preparing to go back to college, I cringe at the thought of moving my physical body from one location to the next: from one way of life to another.

            Moving from Spain back to America is an immensely exaggerated version of this, and I don’t know how I’m going to handle it.

            It’s not that I’m not excited; transitions come at the perfect time, and I’m always accepting and willing to make the move. I am so excited to return home, but I’m so rooted in this lifestyle, and I hate the thought of ripping out all of my roots in one morning when I have to hop on a plane. The summary: I don’t want to leave, but I do.

            This has been the best experience of my life. As a way to start organizing my wild thoughts, I want to start reflecting on three takeaways from this incredible semester.

1.     I love culture. I knew this before I came to Spain, but this semester has just emphasized this passion so much. I would much rather skip the elaborate tourist sites of a city and instead just walk down the streets, observing the lifestyle. I prefer going deeper in a city than seeing the highlights. I want to try new foods, take in the ambiance, and get to know people. There is something so beautiful about being able to talk to someone in another language and be focused on the actual conversation instead of the words or grammar. For the first time in my life, I have truly gotten to know individuals and personalities in another language, which is such a cool concept. I just adore witnessing culture upfront and personal. This past weekend was a holiday weekend in Spain, and my host parents brought me to one of their family member’s apartments for a meal. That time was so wonderful. The conversation was moving a little too fast for me to jump in, but I loved just being there in a normal scene with a group of Spainards on a holiday.  I wish I could sit at a family table in every country on this planet to simply experience.

2.     I have a tranquil disposition. Who knew? I didn’t. Well, maybe I did. I remember journaling in a high moment of anxiety once and writing that I have a tranquil mind, but it’s clouded with anxiety. After I journaled that, I remember thinking ‘is that even true? Probably not.’ It is indeed true, and I have discovered that in Spain. I believe my genuine inner tendency is peaceful, and there have been people here this semester that have given me that affirmation. My host parents even went as far to say that being around me makes them relaxed because I have such a calm demeanor. I’ve also found out that I search for tranquility in nature. One reason that I feel I’m ready to leave Sevilla is that it’s such a big city, and there’s not much of God’s beautiful untouched nature. This semester has taught me to seek after nature and overall tranquility even more.

3.     God is my home. This has been a reoccurring theme this semester since my moment of homesickness and physical sickness in October. I was basically alone in a foreign country these 3 and a half months, and life was blissful. God is all I needed this semester, and He is always all I need. In my life in Minnesota, I look for perfection, for comfort, and for “home” in others and get frustrated when I don’t receive it. Recently, the place I have been looking for my perfection and comfort is God, and I will never be disappointed with that strategy. Wherever I am in the world, I can rejoice in the sufficiency of Christ and know that He is all I need. I don’t need comfort or close friends or even my family; all I need to build my home is God, and He never leaves my side.