froze.

This is how it feels to come back to the States for Christmas after living in a tropical climate for 10 months.

Forever cold.

turbulence.

Clouds bounced around outside my window in their own playground, their own world, without a care. It was almost as if they were calling me to join them: to simply come and rest happy.

Grace gifts - these clouds of mine. And mine they had become as they accompany me on my travels back to the place I know (or knew) so well. Sailing smoothly through the upper atmosphere my nerves were surprisingly calm, considering the amount of anxiety normally experienced in flight. And I was almost fooled into thinking I had conquered my arch enemy of turbulence as we began our descent.

I did not realize how wrong I was until these clouds of mine turned on me, covering the view from my window - my one source of security at 35,000 feet above the ground. And the bumping and jerking and stomach dropping and sweating and holding as tightly as possible to the arm rest came. Just keep breathing, I remind myself. Breathe in. Breathe out. And then, a Voice.

That tiny Voice from the depth of my soul that so often only whispers. It claims over the voice of fear: "Ella, I've got you." And in that moment, the emotions and reality of life flooded in and I could not stop the tears from flowing. Because I realized, then and there, even in the turbulence that is life, He's got me. His is a love that is forever.

And a peace spread over me, like a warm blanket covering in the cold of night. All the ups and downs and curves and punches and doubts, all the grace giving laughter and heart tearing tears of life: He's got them. So I simply come to His feet and I rest happy in His grace because what else can I do with this Love that holds me so close to His heart.

heart.

If you asked me what I have learned in the past ten months…and you forced me to chisel it down to just one thing…I can promise you I would not tell you the 14 ways to conjugate a verb in Spanish. Nor would I tell you about the bus system of Costa Rica. I would not explain how to sleep in when the sun rises at 5am or the correct Spanish pronunciation of the word "desafortunadamente" (translated: unfortunately). I would not talk about the correct way to greet someone in a Latin American culture. And I certainly would not tell you about all the different ways you can serve rice and beans as a meal.

If you so compelled me to answer this question, this one important thing that I have learned in my time in Costa Rica, it would be this:

Grace is the heart of Jesus. A heart that surely beats for me. And so with every steady, faithful beat of the heart, grace pumps from His to mine - two hearts intricately connected through the cross. And without this grace blood - this same grace blood that was shed by Love at the cross - without this grace that flows so freely to the heart, mind, soul...I am left broken. But because His grace streams down and never stops and covers all - it creeps in and fills all the cracks that my brokenness leaves. And so because of this grace, I am broken…yet I am full.

goodbye.

After feeling the sadness of missing the wedding of a dear friend in September, I began to realize what this time in Costa Rica has really been about…more then Spanish and Young Life and culture. This post has been in formation for the last couple of months and it seems only fitting that in my last two weeks here, it is finally ready to share. I hope you enjoy the rawness of heart shared here. 


It’s a weird feeling. The world going on without me. But one I have to accept. Because it is not my world anymore. Well, okay, it is my world and always will be my world – it is world I will always be a part of. It shaped me. Made me who I am. The world that holds my family, friends, loved ones. The world that holds my fun-loving childhood, my agonizing teen years, all four and half years of college and that awkward post-grad year that no one warns you about and is always the hardest. So many laughs, secrets, tears, memories – all held, bound to this world. This world that is now a part of me. For better or for worse. But it is no longer my reality.

My reality is this beautiful view of the mountains outside my window, this cup of coffee warming my hand and body, the sounds of Spanish floating up to my room from down the stairs. My reality is dirty buses and sometimes sketchy taxies, the constant feeling of fatigue from translating another language in my head, cat calls from strangers, relationships via Skype. What a strange feeling – that my now reality is not the world I once knew so well. It is no longer the comfortable, known place I cherished for so many years. And if I’m honest, I don’t really know that place anymore. Or at least, the girl who used to live there.

If I met her on the street now, I think I would be sad for her. For this girl who thought she knew exactly who she was but was really hiding - motivated by fear, unsure of herself, with layers and layers of protection so carefully placed to shield herself from the flaming arrows her precious world threw at her. But with these layers of protections, she was not really living. Sure, she was safe. It’s easy to be safe. But by living safely she grew more and more comfortable with the half living. The unfull life. She grew comfortable behind these fortified walls, sitting with the broken pieces of her soul scattered around her. Trying to make sense of them all. Safe and sound. Or so she thought.

The moment that girl stepped off the plane, she knew. She knew she would no longer be the same. Something deep within her was awakened once again. And a new reality was formed. And now, the longer I am here, the further I travel from this girl - this girl I used to be. And the more the layers are pulled back, the closer I become to this person I was created to be. Alive. Real. Able to feel. Unafraid. And so, while things carry on in my other world and it is sometimes sad to watch them go by, I am here. This is me. This is my reality. I would not change it for anything. I, in fact, could not change it.

This new life is like breath to me. With each deep breathe I take, healing happens. Sure, scars begin to form and do bruises ever really fade? But in the midst of the brokenness and pain and hurt and disappointment that are so easily hidden from the rest of the world, in the midst of layer after layer being pulled, stripped, removed, forced off - I am laid bare. But in this place, I am also made new. Because in the midst of it all, a new kind of joy is found. Because by allowing the heart to feel the hard, my heart is freed to truly feel the good. To feel and see and touch and hear and taste the beautiful graces of life that got lost in my mission of self protection.

This is a life worth living. And so I am learning to say good bye to this girl that I once was. Although a piece of her will always remain, she knows it is time for her to go. And I did and do and will grieve the loss of her and the comfort of who she was. But as I am laid bare and vulnerable before Christ, a new person is forming.

A real person.
An alive person.
A person who is no longer content with the life of counterfeit fulfillment.
A girl who is set free.

giving thanks.

Thanksgiving. It's always been a favorite of mine. And by favorite, I mean the absolute best holiday out there. I think I originally claimed it as my favorite because it just seemed forsaken - like other holidays get so watered down by all the hallmark hoopla and no one really cared about Thanksgiving. (Leave it to me to show compassion for a day of the year…) But honestly, it bothered me that everyone made such a big deal about other holidays and forgot about sweet ole simple Thanksgiving.

Now, more then ever, I enjoy this day more then any other day of the year. Because this idea of giving thanks has become a way of life  - a way of survival even. This giving thanks, even in the hard, to receive joy. This opening of hands daily to receive the grace gifts God showers on me. This praying for open eyes and open heart to fully see. To fully live.

"Joy is the realest reality, the fullest life, and joy is always given, never grasped. God gives gifts and I give thanks and I unwrap the gift given: joy." writes Ann Voskamp, on her ever lingering search for joy.

Proof is there in His Word as well:

While they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to his disciples saying, "Take it; it is my body." Then he took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to them and they all drank from it.

- Mark 14:22-23

The thankfulness is there, even on the eve of His wretched yet grace giving death on the cross. Even in His darkest hours, giving thanks was a priority.

So it's no wonder Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians to "give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you" (5:18).

And again in Ephesians, we are "giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ" (5:20).

Thankfulness has become like a breath of fresh air to me and when I harden my heart to it, I harden my heart to true joy and true life. So this Thanksgiving, I got to celebrate this hard revelation that God has so sweetly pressed to my heart. Though my family was missed terribly, it was still a day spent with friends, games, Spanish, English, worship, gratefulness, laughing, running, rain, sunshine, cowboy boots, sunsets…and of course, delicious food. All. Day. Long.

thankful: these two for getting me up at the crack of down to run a 6k Turkey Trot.

thankful: the aftermath of a 50 person Thanksgiving meal.

thankful: celebrating cross culturally.

thankful: years worth of leaves where people have written their  thankfulness. 

thankful: hours of games and playing and laughing outside.

thankful: more leave of thankfulness.

 thankful: these two goons and how much put up with me and make me laugh.

thankful: these girls and the community they have become.

 thankful: sunset over mountains and city.

thankful: these crazies and their inability to take a normal picture.

(above point made.)

 thankful: friends who let me eat their leftovers and have Thanksgiving #2.

whirlwind.

What a whirlwind life has been these last couple of weeks. They have included…

1. A casual 36 hour trip to Managua, Nicaragua. 10 hours on a bus there, some exploring in Granada with my team mate and travel companion (fortunately both named Jen, which made my life easier for the weekend) and then another 8 hour bus ride back to Costa Rica. Got to drop off half of all the stuff I have accumulated over the past 9 months, which will make the OFFICIAL move on December 14th much smoothly. Until then Nica…

2. In order to fulfill my lifelong but never achieved dream of being on Student Council, I volunteered to be the representative for my trimesters group of students at my language school. This just in: during December the second trimester representative (aka me) is in charge of planning the Roble Alto Christmas Party. Roble Alto is a children's home here in Costa Rica that currently has about 150 kids from ages 2-18 in their many homes all over San Jose. So I had to put aside my rather strong feelings about not celebrating Christmas before Thanksgiving to help put on this party last Wednesday, which consisted of a carnival (basically just stole a bunch of classic Young Life games, as you can see from the pics), food, piñatas and individual presents for all the kids. Needless to say, it was quite a lot to take on. But luckily planning and details is kind of my thing and the Lord was faithful to make sure everything ran about as seamlessly as could be here in Costa Rica. It was beautiful thing to watch kids just get to be kids. To play and laugh and be loved and eat and smile and open a present with their name on it. I believe it turned out to be more of a gift to all the students who helped run it and got to be a part of loving these kids then it was to the children who were there.

*pictures not mine - from a friend at school*

3. And this past weekend, a few of us loaded onto a bus on Friday after classes and took off to the beach for the weekend. We fed monkeys (lots and lots of monkeys…really too many if you ask me), saw raccoons (eeee!! my favs!), went to the beach in the National Park Manuel Antonio, ate good food and slept, slept, slept.

It was a nice weekend to get away, especially after all the craziness that has passed in the weeks past but upon my return it hit me: less then a month now of living in Costa Rica. W.O.W. And so my friends, I am fully declaring the potential to be considered a crazy person for the next two months, what with moving to another country (again), going home to Columbia for the first time in ten months, attending two different weeklong trainings in one month, seeing all my friends and family and then going back to a country to begin to re-learn how to live in another different culture…well, it's enough to make one's head spin. But alas, there is always grace. So I will open my hands and receive it over and over and over again. And this daily reminder will be my saving grace:

home.

The rain that began to pour was relentless. Big, wet drops falling around me. Attempting to take cover under my sorry excuse for an umbrella, it felt like I was only becoming more and more soaked. And I was only half way home.

Suddenly, the thought came: I’m going home. I will be dry there. I can change out of these wet, dirty clothes into dry, comfortable ones. I will be safe.

It’s okay to get wet right now.

As soon as this thought appeared, a new one followed right on its tail: Just like in life. The rains have come and will come: huge, overwhelming, life changing rains. Soaking me to the core of my soul. But I am walking Home. And there, one day, I will be safe. Stop trying to fight the trials. They too will pass.

I felt myself physically relax. Trust. Know. Believe. That soon I would in my house, safe and warm and dry. My shoulders loosened. The breath I did not realize I was holding, released. And I smiled.

Is not this how I should treat life? When the storm is upon me, to just allow the rain to fall. Stop trying to run or hide or protect or deny.

Because one day I will be safe and whole and new. Pain will be distant. Tears will be wiped from my eyes. Sadness will be a thing of the past.

And until then… just keep breathing. Relax into the arms of the only One who is strong enough to hold me. And watch as His graces fall around me…rentlessly.

Sometimes, I just have to let myself get caught in the rain.

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"He will wipe every tear from their eyes.

There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain…"

-Revelation 21:4

it's a WYLD life...

Last weekend, the Young Life Costa Rica team took 53 middle school friends from Wyld Life and some number of leaders to camp in the mountains of Costa Rica called La Cumbre. And I am still attempting to recover from the weekend of craziness! It changes things a little when you get back from a Young Life weekend and have to wake up at 6 am the next day to be at school. Guess I'm not as young as I used to be…sigh.

Anyways, the weekend was a great one. The camp had so many different activities to do throughout the day, low ropes and high ropes courses. In the morning and at night, we got to have good old fashioned Wyld Life club. Through club, our middle school friends got the chance to dance, sing, play, laugh and hear the Gospel of Christ from a speaker who actually paid his own way down here to come speak for the weekend.

After club, I got the opportunity to have "cabin time" with my fellow leader, Lindsay, and four crazy fun middle school chicas. We got to spend about 30-45 minutes talking about what the speaker said and what it meant to each one of them in their own lives. What a sweet experience it is to watch as my middle school friends pondered some pretty tough questions about their own faith and a relationship with Jesus. It is weekends like this that I am reminded of how sweet these ministries of Young Life and Wyld Life are and how happy I am to be a part of it.

Here are some pictures for you guys to get to see what the weekend was all about…enjoy!

39 days left of pura vida.

Managua, Nicaragua...I'm coming for ya!

(click to enlarge)