a land between.

During our Young Life International School Staff Conference, we learned a lot about "the land between". A land that we may travel through that is just heavy. 

Emotionally, spiritually, physically.

Too heavy to bear alone. 

The Lord had woven this theme into our time there and all of the staff there had recently or were currently experiencing "the land between". A time of trial, hardship, suffering. Much like the Israelites in the desert, where they wandered for 40 years after being freed from slavery in Egypt and before they entered the Promised Land. The desert is a hard place to wander. 

At the end of our time there, we prayer walked on the beach. We were each given a small bottle to fill with sand - to represent the many deserts we have walked or are walking or will walk again. But we were also given a flower to stick in the bottle of sand, to remind us that all is not lost in the desert, in the land between. And that because of God's grace, beautiful things can still grow in suffering.

On mine, I wrote the words GRACE, PAIN, JOY, and HURT across the bottle, all connected by one line. To remind myself: these things are all connected. I cannot have one without the other. But on the top of the bottle, I also wrote the word HOPE. Because when I finally grasp this idea, this crazy notion of grace, pain, joy & hurt as one - hope springs up.

friends.

Morning came far too early, per the usual. I snooze my alarm and role over only to have the sun spilling through the window and onto my pillow, blinding my eyes. So I make the move - and once my feet hit the cold, tile floor, my mind finally begins to wake up.

After the usual face washing, teeth brushing, vitamin taking (among other things), I make it to the kitchen. A sigh of relief escapes me as I spot the freshly brewed coffee awaiting me. After pouring myself a cup - to the brim - I step outside into the sunshine and I can hardly believe I am here. In the Dominican Republic. The place where the journey of living abroad began for me, during that faithful summer of 2011.

As I sit down in a chair, poolside, I look around at the other girls who have now also trickled out to have our hour of quiet before teaching and training begins. Isn't it funny, I ponder, I did not know these people a year, two years ago. Yet now I look forward with anxious anticipation this sweet time we have together at the annual Young Life International School Conference.

They are becoming some of my favorite people. And not only that, I realize - I also gain something from each of them. Each woman here teaches me something or pushes me toward a place in my life that is weak.


From one, I learn patience & service.

From another, I gain encouragement.

One shows me how to truly love.

And another teaches me how to choose joy.

One, humility and courage.

From another, I gain wisdom.

These places that I am weak, the Lord uses these women in my life to grow me stronger. These women who have experienced the same things I have. Sure, maybe in different ways but none the less - our lives our interwoven and intertwined in this life of living in Latin America.

And so I sip my coffee and I soak up their presence and I drink in the gifts of grace that these women give me without even knowing.

feel.

Hot tears poured down my cheeks. These tears that seemed to have a mind of their own, for there was no stopping them now. They have made their appearance over and over again in the last few days - but even when they were not dripping down my face, they were still there. Sitting on the edge, lurking in the background, waiting to be set free. And now they are. Free, that is.

This battle that has been waging within me gave the tears permission to fall. And when he finally left with his new family, they came right on cue. As if it was a curtain call and they were waiting for their grand entrance. But this battle, this war of justice and injustice. It rips at me still and I grasp to understand it. How something so good, also brings so much pain. This word: adoption. Generally, this word brings forth excitement and joy. As it should! But for me, right now, it brings nothing but painful reminders of what was.

I watch this beautiful family around me grieve for the loss of their loved one. And I am struck by the fact that there will now be a hole in their lives and the fact that adoption is a good thing does not make that hole go away. And the fact that God is in control of all does not change what is happening. And the truth of who God is and how much He loves us does not wipe away pain. At least, not yet. Not in the moment when you watch a three year old boy get torn from the only family he has known since he was nine months old. Not when you see the tear stained faces of all those who have loved him and raised him since his mom left him in the hospital for drugs. Truth does not always lessen pain.

Everything I have learned this past eight months is put to the test: to flee or feel. And in this hardship, I chose and I choose to feel. And oh, how my heart felt deeply. Twisting around itself, feeling the hurt drive deeper and deeper as everything around me was moving, almost in slow motion.

But deep in the pain, there was a bitter sweetness. Just barely peeking out amongst the thorns. But surely there nonetheless. Because only what is broken is open to His entry.

And at the end of the day, when I've run dry of tears and I sit and breathe and process, my mind recalls this verse:

I am still confidant of this:

I will see the goodness of the LORD

in the land of the living.

Wait for the LORD,

be strong & take heart

& wait for the LORD.

-Psalm 27:13-14

Though I cannot see goodness in everything, I take heart and I wait.

I risk. I trust. I feel.

And I live - fully & freely.

(This is Oswald, my now 3 year old host brother who was a foster child living with my Costa Rican family since he was 9 months old. For almost 2 and half years he has lived with Olga, Elberth, Josue and Julie. He was very sick and in and out of the hospital when he was younger. Because his mom kept trying to get him back, in between the jail and drugs, he remained in foster care for these years. Last month, he was officially declared "abandoned" and therefore up for adoption. Olga could not adopt him because of monetary expenses and her age. So within a month, another couple came, got to know Oswald for a few days, and he went to live with them on Monday. While it is a sweet celebration for Oswald's new parents and for the hopeful stability Oswald will be able to have from now on, it is still a hard transition for all, including my host family who raised him. Please join me in praying for a smooth transition for this precious boy, for his new parents and for my host family and their loss.)

repair.

It's almost as if learning Spanish is repairing my soul.

Between the verb conjugations and new vocabulary and past tenses and future tenses and conditional tenses and presentations and exams and homework...something bigger is happening. In my heart of hearts, I know this. But I am still trying to grasp it, understand it, live it, believe it.

This grace that is learning Spanish. Little by little, He is using my time here to break me in the most beautiful way possible and teach me a small piece of His depth.

He repairs. He is repairing the pieces of my heart and I did not understand how desperately they were seeking this restoration.

For so long I have lived content in broken and bruised pieces of my heart, content with not fully living.

And now? I have tasted Life. The True Life. And I never want to let it go. This True Life is not one that comes easily and it is not always filled with joy. The True Life is one that allows the heart to enter brokenness. To actually feel pain. To process the emotions that are the voice of the heart. The True Life sometimes even breaks your heart.

But it is always filled with grace.

So when asked: "Do you wish you had learned Spanish when you were younger or in the States?" - all I can think about is this grace that is learning Spanish. This restoring, repairing thing. Yes, it would be nice to speak perfectly and with more fluency and understand everything that was said to me with ease. But it's not only about the Spanish. It's about the soul.