Belleza

Mi primer día en España fue llenado de belleza.

Belleza. Beauty.

There was beauty in the chaos of lugging over 50 pounds of suitcases around Madrid and being able to laugh, smile, and be untouched by the anxiety of the situation.

There was beauty in the moment of my roommate and I being brought to our host home in the taxi and realizing the reality of a semester abroad.

There was beauty in the first meal shared with our señora, feeling awkward and timid.

There was beauty in that heavenly siesta.

There was beauty in walking around Sevilla and seeing the gorgeous Spanish-speaking locals that livened the cobble-stoned streets on a Tuesday night.

There was definite beauty in absorbing the scenery: ageless buildings, the beautiful river, and the sunset.

There was beauty in dinner, where I sat with five individuals I had just met from three different cultures and bonded over speaking Spanish, learning and listening to Italian, and teaching English words.

Finally, there was beauty sitting in my bed with the window open, letting in the breeze and belleza of Sevilla, my home for the next 3 and a half months.

Be still

This week, some of my close friends had a “surprise” (I knew about it) going-away dinner for me. We went to an authentic Latin American restaurant and then walked around the streets of Minneapolis. It was a fantastic evening, and I appreciated it. At the end of the night, I was struck with an odd conclusion. My friends are wonderful people, and I cherish them so much, but I know I’m equipped to be without them in Spain. Of course, I will have my moments of missing them; that’s inevitable. But it’s my time to leave. I know the best thing for me right now is to get away and have the Lord work on my heart and growth in Spain so that when I return, I can be an even better peer and friend to my betters. Going back to campus just isn’t right at this particular time. God’s perfect timing says it’s time for me to leave.  

            He is sovereign, and I can be still in that truth.

            Honestly though, this afternoon I was feeling a small uneasiness about Spain. I realize this is only a natural reaction to an upcoming study abroad, but it’s been a rarity for me lately. I was with a friend browsing through an adorable little hipster shop, and I stopped when I saw a few pendants laid out that had different maps inside them. I pointed them out to my friend, examined them as a whole briefly, then at random picked one up without even looking at it.
          The pendant was a map of Spain and Portugal.
          The uneasiness melted away. I clasped the pendant tightly in my palm and nodded silently at the Lord’s sovereignty. Such a small moment in my day, but what a reminder?

            Those moments aren’t by accident. God was active in that second with the pendant, and truly, He is present in every single situation on earth: big or small.

            I’m trying to pack. My suitcase is way too small for all that I want to bring. In even an unimportant matter like this, God is wildly present. I know I don’t have to worry because He is sovereign over everything.

His guiding hand is like the wind or breath, weaving through every single gigantic and trivial moment under the sun. There is nothing out of His control: not time, packing difficulties, conversations, traveling, sickness, nor wars. There is a peace that substantiates in all the turmoil and chaos. There is a stillness where we can know that He is God, and He will be exalted in the earth and in the Heavens. He is not afraid of the minor dilemmas or the seemingly evil in this world. For He, all that is good and perfect, will be lifted up and exalted. There is nothing truer than that truth.

            He is indeed sovereign; we just need to be still. 

            Psalm 46

Excitement, stress, and preparation

            I have a confession to make: I got scared. We received our host families and living arrangements for Spain last week, and I assumed that this would be the point where my excitement would triple over in heaps of uncontainable anticipation. Instead, a wave of fear crashed over me at the thought of living with complete strangers in an unfamiliar country with another language.

            But the fear only lasted a moment.

            In my moment of weakness, I let the fear fill me up until I fell apart, then it vanished instantly afterwards. That was it. It hasn’t come back.
           But the excitement has indeed tripled.

            I have a clearer picture of what my life in the next few months will look like now. I will live right on the river and right above the restaurant that my host family owns. Every day I will wake up and walk or bike 2.5 miles to school, passing cathedrals, parks, brightly colored buildings, and palm trees along the way. With 25 days left before departure, the excitement is so evident in my demeanor. I try to mask it (I don’t want to seem too overjoyed in front of the people that I’m leaving), but I just can’t. I dance. I squeal. I freak out. My nanny kid laughs at me. My parents stare weirdly at me. My friends eye me enviously. Who cares? I am so excited!

            In a way, I think the Lord has over-prepared my heart. For Spain, I have nothing but excitement and peace; I’m ready to go. For these next 25 days? Stress and weariness. I’ll have my bursts of deranged excitement, but then the current petty vexations of my daily life cloud my vision. There are too many preparations. There are too many people I have to see. There are just too many days to wait.

            How odd though. There’s an uneasiness and overwhelmed state of mind about the period of familiarity and comfort and not about the avalanche of the unknown and adventure.

            Basically, I just can’t wait, and I’m stressed about waiting.

            Maybe that will change, and the fear will roar inside me again and not leave this time. Maybe I’ll start to cling onto this familiar life so tightly that I’ll be terrified about leaving. Maybe I’ll have to cancel the flight and cancel the trip because my anxiety will be too severe.

            Probably not though.

            I’ll keep updates coming just in case.

The time in betwen

In 49 days, I will be situated in Sevilla, Spain for the next 3 and a half months. Right now, I am sitting on a couch, bored. The days are slow and long, but the weeks are pretty fleeting. I'm getting a little restless. I've been restless for the majority of 2015 to be honest. 7 weeks are both so short and so long. 

The contradictions are found in my own feelings too; I am so excited, so overjoyed, yet at the same time, fearful. Fear: that natural human emotion that usually accompanies a leap of faith. In my past years of heavy anxiety, that word has the ability to augment itself until its weight is nearly suffocating and all consuming. Through Christ, that word is able to diminish until it holds no meaning at all. In the past couple of weeks, I've had about two bouts of fear about my upcoming study abroad. Both were stagnated pretty abruptly by the Lord. Worrying happens when I leave God out of my thoughts of the future. There is no safer place to be than in the will of God. I have had pretty apparent confirmations that my semester in Spain is the will of God. 

When you take a leap of faith, the Lord will take care of you every single step of the way. I've experienced that in my believer's baptism this weekend; God supplied the smallest but most beautiful evidence of his care and affection. He has supplied other evidence of His hand in my Spain affairs: enormous, awe-inspiring evidence in the aspects of finances, relationships, and comfort. He provides; there is no fault in his faithfulness.

In this moment, I’m still sitting on the couch waiting for my adventure. But in my waiting and in my restlessness, I can be confident that the Lord is restoring, confirming, strengthening, and establishing me. In the next 49 days and in the 3 and a half months after that, I will be clinging onto the Lord and living for His name.

"To Him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen."

1 Peter 5

Processing

On the night of my birthday, I had an individual say some things that were pretty offensive to me. I have not been able to process through them properly, and honestly, it's driving me absolutely insane. The first words said were that my "vision is skewed." After that, the individual went on to say that after I returned from Spain, I will actually have "life" and "excitement." According to this person, I also think I know everything and don't want to ever hear any advice. 

Simply and clearly put, this person does not know me; I haven’t had a one-on-one conversation with this person in years. This fact should take the heat off the burn, but it doesn't. I despise knowing that someone has such a warped perception of me.  I know exactly how he has me pegged: a girl who loves America and would be content with never experiencing anything else. A girl who is forced to go to Spain because of her major and is excited only about posting pictures on facebook of her excursions. A lifeless, crabby girl who thinks she knows it all. These falsehoods derive from seeing a quiet girl and making assumptions without sitting down and truly digging into her character. 

The truth is that I’m not too fond of the American culture, and I don’t even see myself here in the future. I adore different culture: exploring different food, people, and land. I added a major to accommodate the Spain trip. I post a picture to facebook maybe once a year. I am full of life only because my Lord and my God pours into me every single day. I have a fervent passion and excitement for my call in this world. I strive to learn and hear other perspectives and viewpoints. I love discussions.

I don’t think I’m going to Spain with a closed mind and a “skewed vision."

On the contrary, I’m going there as a witness to Jesus Christ, which means being open, compassionate, and solid in my beliefs and identity. I’m going into this new adventure with all that I am, waiting in expectancy at what the Lord calls me to do in this beautiful and rich country.

         CON TODO MI SER.

la aventura

I am a shy and anxious girl that is about to go to Spain. I have never been one to do things like this. My type of personality is living in the regular, in order and consistency. In high school, throwing my high-strung disposition into another country would cause a mess of anxiety. Yet, there is a peace in my heart. I am not afraid.
How is that? I'm shy; I can barely speak confidently in my mother tongue to someone I'm just meeting; how am I supposed to speak a foreign language with foreign individuals? I'm used to being surrounded by my best friends every single day. I'm used to living in America. But I'm not afraid. How is that?
The LORD.
I've just had this sense of security, and I know in a profound way that the Lord is taking care of me. Even when things sink in, when it all becomes real. What is there really to fear?
I love Minnesota. I am reminded of this as I walk by the lake back to my dorms, seeing the swirling bright colors of the sky reflected in the glass-like lake, silhouetted by blooming trees. My home is beautiful. But there's just this desire for adventure in my heart. It's an unrecognizable desire: a craving for being away from the familiar and clinging onto God in a new situation.
I am so content here. I sincerely have such an excitement for the simple beauties in my current point in life. But this quiet heart is yearning for the adventure that lies waiting in my future.