A Semester of Change

I was warned long before I got here that student teaching is one of the hardest experiences we will face.  This is because there are a lot of firsts in student teaching: our first time being a real teacher, our first time teaching all day long, prepping lessons every day, juggling 60 students, and having mountains of grading to complete.  For those of us who choose to do our student teaching in a foreign country we have a few more firsts to add to that list: our first time in that specific country, our first time teaching in an ESL context, and our first semester abroad.  For me, though, I had some firsts I never expected or anticipated.  It was the first time my family was also in a foreign country, sharply limiting my contact with them, my first time to have an adopted sibling, my first time not to meet a new sibling of mine, and my first time to not be present with my family as they endure and struggle through monumental changes.  If this wasn’t enough, I also needed to switch cooperating teachers after one week of being here.   

As someone who only enjoys a small sampling of change at a time this volume of changes was crushing.  In fact, at times, it still feels like too much because not only is this a semester full of firsts, but it has followed right after a semester full of lasts: my last semester at Moody and my last semester living with my wonderful roommate and friends, the last time I will live in the city of Chicago which I have slowly come to appreciate, and the completion of 17 years of formal education.

I must admit that there have been moments when I have been tempted to toss it away and return home in hopes of scraping some sense of normalcy back into my life.  There have been moments when I ache so much because my family is going through hardship and I am entirely unable to help them.  There are instances that I wonder why I can’t just be like everyone else and settle down near my family.  And maybe this will happen at some point, but for now I hear God asking, “Will you leave father and mother, brother and sister for me?”  And as much as I hate all the change and I hate all the distance I know that this is what I was promised. 

Our lives are not meant to be comfortable and easy because we serve a God who calls us to follow Him despite the guaranteed hardship and pain.  And yet, we also serve a God who is present and who meets us where we are.  When I look at some of the things that have happened this semester I am amazed that I am still here.  I know a semester like this would have been too much had I faced it at an earlier time in my life.  This is what God has given me now – it is not what I would have planned or predicted, but God knows that our time on earth is just for a moment and He works with His eyes on eternity, knowing what is best on a level far beyond our scope. 

Some more firsts!  I went on a medical mission trip for spring break...

...It was my my first time combing lice out of hair...  

...And my first time drinking from a coconut :)

Faithfulness in the Midst of Misplaced Dependency

        It is absolutely disheartening to me how quickly I misplace my dependency on God and switch it out for some infinitely inferior substitute.  Last week I got a terrible case of the stomach flu.  The electricity and Internet were our all day and I found myself in the desperate and strange state of not knowing what to do. I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, incapable of communicating with friends or family and unable to lesson plan or check my e-mail.  I could not watch a movie, read a book, or even turn on my bedroom light.  Ostracized from the people I know best and unable to turn to some form of media that would allow me to pass the time, I felt alone and powerless.  In that moment, I was terribly aware that my first impulse is not to seek God, but to seek any other avenue of help beside Him.  Even on days when I am perfectly healthy, I find myself fleeing to a friend for a solution instead of running to God. I wish I could say that I’ve learned my lesson, but I know my heart too well – it is “prone to wander…prone to leave the Lord I love”. To see this sin in my life deeply upsets me, but what overwhelms me is that in spite of it all He is faithfully present. 

In light of all this misplaced dependency, God does not give up on me.  He is faithful to His promise that He will never leave me.  I don’t know why it shocks me so much because He is always faithful, but in times like this I am reminded again how little I deserve that faithfulness.  It was at this time, right when I was feeling the most discouraged about being here and feeling doubly discouraged at finding this sin in my life, that He allowed me to go to a beautiful outdoor market in Tegucigalpa.  I wish you could have been there and walked through the rows of vendors with me; eager sellers naming their price and people, vegetables, and fruits lining every surface as far as you can see.  Oh, and I must not forget the pungent meat section where whole portions of bloody flesh hung on display, dripping their red juices onto the street below or the seafood section, in which, little crabs crawled up out of their bucket only to be shoved back in by their vendor.  This is the craziness of Latin America that I fell in love with.  And as I stood there, taking it all in, I felt God’s presence reminding me of how He really does know best.  Despite all my misplaced dependency, sorrow, and frustration God was there reminding me that He will never leave me.  That colorful market was my rainbow sent to remind me that though I stray and wander, He remains faithful.

The Market!  

Isn't it beautiful?  

Horchata in a bag.
 In Honduras they don't waste paper cups, but instead give you your drink to go in a bag! 

To gaze through the lens of eternity

Sometimes the tears are literally veiled in by nothing more than sheer will force.  But they are there nonetheless, uninvited and unbidden, waiting for a moment of weakness to break through the dam.  I miss what was once so familiar to me. I feel trapped not being allowed to walk out my front door alone.  I miss my family.  I miss my dear roommate, Amanda.  I miss the mountains, the city, and the normalcy of living in the United States. I don’t understand this culture.  I don’t speak this language.  And I’m here.  Alone.  It’s in moments like these that I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.  And though, this may be for just a short time, I do know that He has me here…now.  He has a purpose in me being here and I will never learn that purpose if I spend my entire time here hoping to be someplace else. 

It hurts, you know.  It hurts to know that my entire family is reuniting and I am here in a strange country apart from them.  It hurts to know that God may call me to spend my entire life nowhere near the ones I love.  It is not easy for me, but my deepest desire is to glorify God in my life and actions.  Sometimes I lose sight of this goal and want nothing more than to see the sight of those glorious Wasatch Mountains and soak up the presence of those I love.  Sometimes I want to just forget it all and hop back on a plane.  But that is not why I am here.  I was not put on this earth so that I could enjoy myself and my family.  I was put here to glorify and enjoy God.  We cannot enjoy God when we are actively rebelling against Him and so I find myself here.  Right now, in this moment, it’s not where I want to be, but it is where God has put me.  So, when I gaze at this moment with an eternal perspective, I want to be nowhere else.      

Joy Amongst Inconsistency

One thing that being in a third world country has taught me is to not take for granted the blessing of consistency found in the United States.  Here, life is inconsistent.  You never know when you might return home to a house with no working electricity. If the electricity is not working, you won’t be able to cook your dinner, take a shower, or recharge your dying computer.  You never know when the Internet might go out for hours and you’ll be forced to reschedule your Skype date with a friend.  You never know if the roads will be clear enough to get where you are going in time.  You never know if the grocery store will have what you are looking for in stock.  The list could go on and on. 

            So, I am starting to thank God for each little moment He gives me.  Today I am thanking God that the electricity worked long enough for me to shower, that the Internet, which has been going on and off in roughly 5 minute intervals, worked just long enough for me to submit my homework to Moody, and that the power went back on in time for me to warm up some tea.  I used to take these things for granted, but when they could disappear at any moment, I realize just what a blessing these things truly are.  

See why the electricity is inconsistent?  :)

The City of Tegucigalpa

And so it begins

As I write this I feel a strange sense of something altogether different.  My life is changing and somehow I know that it will never be the same.  For years I have longed to arrive at this point – the time when I will finally finish my formal education and jump on that plane to a foreign land.  It sounds so adventurous doesn’t it? Now while there may indeed be an element of adventure, that’s not what drives me onward.  What could possibly impel someone to leave their family and head into a world of unknowns?  A land where no familiar face resides and home is far away. Sometimes I can’t figure it out myself, but deep down inside I have always known.  It’s Jesus.  He has always been behind my every step, driving me forward. In moments like these I wonder if I’ve understood it all correctly, but I know that this is right.  Something far beyond me gives me the strength and moves me on.

This week a Moody student drowned.  His sister was staying at the same home as me when she heard the news.  Even though I don’t really know her or her brother, the pain surrounding this campus and my current home is palpable.  Our hearts are broken as we struggle to keep our hope fixed on Christ.  Meanwhile, my family still waits in Ukraine, hoping to hear the news that Vitalik can be taken home, trusting God as they face setback after setback.  And I am here in Chicago about to board a plane. Please pray that I might trust my Savior.

I know not what is yet to come

What joy, what pain, what hope,

But this I know will all my heart –  

I rest in Him alone.