Today marks the two week anniversary of my homecoming from South America. Yay! Home is so sweet and so good, yet not everything has been sweet and good in my life. Don't worry, don't worry, nothing is wrong, per se... Just a little reverse culture shock. Actually, now that I think of it, "reverse culture shock" is not the correct term for what I'm experiencing. I wanted to return to the US so I wouldn't say I am shocked by the culture. In fact, I am embracing it, specifically Target and McDonalds' diet cokes as many of you know via my Facebook. So I guess I would call it "reverse life shock." I've been gone for six and a half months and things are simply different. Of course, I've changed in the past one-hundred and eighty days so the lens through which I view the world has changed, but so have the circumstances.
For example, I received my diploma in the mail from Loyola just the other day. Talk about shocking. I'm technically a college graduate (although I don't walk until May). So of course everyone is asking me, What's next? And I'm asking myself that same question... over and over and over again. So much so that I began to freak out a bit. Okay maybe more than a bit. Confession: I've cried more times than I would dare to admit on my blog since being back... including one time in the vegetable aisle at Hy-Vee. Okay, the ridiculousness of that scene actually makes me smile a little. J Anyways, so the past two weeks have been a bit of an up-down roller-coaster, much like life in general. I think coming back from such a lengthy time away, especially now that I am done with college, is a process, one day at a time, moment by moment.
But back to that pesky question I had been repeatedly asking myself: What's next? Well, I recently realized what's wrong with that statement. I had been relying on myself to make that decision. (And as many of you know, that is a huge decision, where to go after college. It can completely alter the course of your life... forever.) So no wonder I was/still am such a mess. I'm not in control; God is. And as much as I have been wanting to take the wheel and plan out my life, I know better than that. I can only see the right now but God can see the big picture. So what was I thinking, trying to do it on my own? Especially when God says, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways." (Isaiah 55:8) Great verse, but even better is 1 Corinthians 2:9 which says, "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him." Now that is a great verse, and that is something worth living for.
So often I settle for what is right in front of me, or what is easy and comfortable, what is the norm. But God calls us to something extraordinary. Yes, it's a narrow road so of course there will be difficulties but the destination (and the journey) are totally worth it. I don't want to get to the end of my life and have regrets because I didn't trust the Lord enough, or because I settled for "good" when God had His "best" for me, or because I lived for something that I couldn't take with me after death.
And yet I still don't quite know What's next but I am trying to trust the Lord and walk with Him day by day. And in each day there is something to celebrate. For example, I am so thankful for unexpected friendships. I recently reunited with a woman whom I had met in 6th grade. We are now re-getting to know each other and discovering our shared passions for garage saling and Pinterest. (Side note: If you haven't looked into Pinterest yet, do it. I can't believe I am head-over-heels for a website!) Similarly, I have also gotten plugged in to a Bible study and am loving getting to know these women as well. Currently, I am tickled pink with excitement that one of my best friends from high school is on her way to Burlington as I type!! And tomorrow I take off for Omaha, Nebraska to (finally) see Jared and Gina and meet MOZI, their labrador puppy, for the first time.
Life is bittersweet, but God is always good. So I'm just trying to live out Proverbs 3:5: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding," because He tells us in Jeremiah 29:11 that He knows the plans He has for us, plans to prosper us and not to harm us, plans to give us hope and a future. God is good.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Friday, March 9, 2012
Kony 2012
Alright, this is a bit of a side note from what you are used to reading on my blog, but when I watched this video, I was so moved and saddened and filled with hope that I couldn't help but share it with you all. Take thirty minutes out of your day to watch this video on Joseph Kony, the leader of the LRA (Lord's Resistance Army) in Uganda. For the past twenty-six or so years, Kony has been abducting children and forcing them to join his army, kill their parents and many others. I won't go into many details here because the video is so informative. Watch this please. This is important. Thirty thousand + children have been directly affected by this. Think about that. Thirty thousand children and that's not even counting all the people that have been killed as a direct result.
Now, go to the kony2012 website and sign the pledge. Do more if you can.
Now, go to the kony2012 website and sign the pledge. Do more if you can.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Unpacking
Yup, that's right. I am back on US soil, more specifically the rich fertile soil of Iowa. And boy it feels good to be back, but it's the weirdest thing, being back. As I was walking off the plane in the Dallas/Fort Worth Airport, déjà vu hit me like a tidal wave: it was the same gate. Six and a half months ago I walked through the same gate at the airport in order to board my big plane heading for Chile. I had no idea what was to come. And then, six and a half months later, after all the experiences I had, after all the people I met, after all the things I learned, I was walking out of that same gate on my way home. Déjà vu, for sure. Being back in the US still didn't feel real at that point... Until I went into the bathroom, which was huge with automatic flushers and sinks and the whole nine yards. Plus I didn't have to throw the toilet paper into a little trash can, I could throw it in the toilet. Now that was reverse culture shock. Haha. Then I walk out of the bathroom, in a daze, and I see a water fountain. I had not seen one water fountain in all six and a half months I was in South America, not one. Of course, I took a big long gulp before I ran over to Starbs to inject myself with real (not instant) caffeine. Next thing I know, I am walking out of the Cedar Rapids Airport with my mom and dad. Whoa. Seeing them was happiness. Por fin, I'm home. And in celebration of my homecoming, we went to Panera Bread, which happened to continue to feed into the whole feeling of déjà vu since Panera Bread happened to be my last meal before I left for Chile.
And now I'm home-home, in my house in Burlington, in my room where everything is exactly how I left it. It's like I never left. But I did. On the one hand, the streets of Burlington are more or less how I remember them and my house still smells the same. Not much has changed, thank goodness, but it's weird... For example, I was sitting on my bed just looking around my room and thinking, the last time I was here was in August when I was doing/thinking/feeling this way and now it's March and I'm doing/thinking/feeling something else, something different. Oh, it's like some weird time warp; it's the oddest feeling. It's like Chile never happened. It's like I never went. Multiple times in the last twenty-four hours I have found myself wondering if I dreamt it all up. No, no, I couldn't have. There are pictures and proof and I have more Facebook friends because of it. Surely it happened. Yes, it definitely happened. But I'm back, uh weird.
I gotta move on from this topic of weirdness and time warps... But in all seriousness, being abroad for so long and then coming home is such a strange dichotomy. A part of me feels like nothing at home has changed but I have changed so much, but the other part of me says that everything has changed at home but I have stayed relatively the same. But I'm not the same, I can't be. I had this whole Chilean experience that transformed my worldview, that made minor tweaks in my life outlook, that gave me a greater appreciation for some things and popped the illusion I was holding of other things... I mean the list could go on. I guess right now things will just have to be weird as I begin to unpack, literally and metaphorically, all that I brought back from South America.
And now I'm home-home, in my house in Burlington, in my room where everything is exactly how I left it. It's like I never left. But I did. On the one hand, the streets of Burlington are more or less how I remember them and my house still smells the same. Not much has changed, thank goodness, but it's weird... For example, I was sitting on my bed just looking around my room and thinking, the last time I was here was in August when I was doing/thinking/feeling this way and now it's March and I'm doing/thinking/feeling something else, something different. Oh, it's like some weird time warp; it's the oddest feeling. It's like Chile never happened. It's like I never went. Multiple times in the last twenty-four hours I have found myself wondering if I dreamt it all up. No, no, I couldn't have. There are pictures and proof and I have more Facebook friends because of it. Surely it happened. Yes, it definitely happened. But I'm back, uh weird.
I gotta move on from this topic of weirdness and time warps... But in all seriousness, being abroad for so long and then coming home is such a strange dichotomy. A part of me feels like nothing at home has changed but I have changed so much, but the other part of me says that everything has changed at home but I have stayed relatively the same. But I'm not the same, I can't be. I had this whole Chilean experience that transformed my worldview, that made minor tweaks in my life outlook, that gave me a greater appreciation for some things and popped the illusion I was holding of other things... I mean the list could go on. I guess right now things will just have to be weird as I begin to unpack, literally and metaphorically, all that I brought back from South America.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
La Llave & The Big Goodbye
Well, the leaves are beginning to turn colors just slightly here in Santiago, similar to the way they were turning last August when I left Burlington for Chile. I suppose it's kind of poetic how I am leaving Santiago at about the same point in the seasons as with Iowa. Symmetry, I suppose, or a sense of harmonious balance. That feeling that it is time, which reminds me of the passage in the third chapter of Ecclesiastes: There is a time for everything... a time to plant and a time to uproot... God has made everything beautiful in its time. This passage has always helped me with the goodbyes, the uprootings, especially the big ones, and today was definitely a "big one."
This weekend I spent with my host family, making sushi, watching movies, having an asado (i.e. grill-out) etc. It was a wonderful weekend. The looming Sunday evening, however, hung quite low over my head, reminding me of what was to come. For me, this goodbye was not as horrible as saying goodbye to my host family in Spain. My Chilean experience was quite different from my Spanish experience. And I think the fact that I am so excited and so at peace with this homecoming made saying goodbye to my dear Chilean family a little more bearable. Nevertheless, it was, for lack of a better word, weird. It's just a weird feeling knowing that you are leaving soon and do not know the next time you will return. Of course, I hope and pray that I will return to Chile one day but I have no clue when that would ever happen. So, for now, it really felt like a goodbye.
To my surprise, this goodbye was practically tearless (there were a few watery eyes), whereas my Spanish goodbye was adorned with full-fledged sobbing. Crying is really not my thing so I was a little relieved when my host mom did not burst into uncontrollable tears as I left the gate for the last time in awhile. During the weekend, the only time I thought Wow, I really should cry, or shed a tear, or something was during lunch today when my host mom took a moment to say a few words about my time with their family. Everything was going as one would imagine until my host mom presented me with a key to their house, saying that they want me to truly feel part of their family because I most certainly am a part of their family. Wow... That was one of the most symbolic and thoughtful things anyone has ever done for me and definitely caught me off guard. I think the key, as a symbol, does a better job than I ever could at explaining the bond I have with my Chilean family. A key. Una llave. Enough said.
Anyway, once I left and started down the street, my mind started doing that last thing. You know, this is the last... Por ejemplo, this is the last time I will walk down this street. This is the last time I will eat choripan etc. I was sitting at the bus stop, waiting, while my mind was doing that last thing and finally I had to stop myself. I should know better by now. Doing that whole last thing only makes things worse, at least for me. I am not a fan of goodbyes. I'd rather just cut the cord and not drag it out. But regardless of that, I should not be doing the last thing because I don't know what my future holds and who am I to say this is the last time I will do or see so-and-so. A year ago, I most definitely didn't think I would be in Santiago, Chile etc. Life is full of seasons. Seasons come and go. Things change. But sometimes seasons repeat themselves in the most interesting ways. You can never definitively say this is done, for good, forever. Sure, you can close a chapter but you never know when God is going to surprise you or resurface old friends and so on and so forth...
Thus, I can (and should) mourn the fact that I won't be seeing my Chilean family, or Chile for a while, but I can't mourn a definite goodbye. You just never know. For now, I am incredibly thankful for the family with whom I spent most of my time in Chile. They were, quite simply, a blessing from God.
This weekend I spent with my host family, making sushi, watching movies, having an asado (i.e. grill-out) etc. It was a wonderful weekend. The looming Sunday evening, however, hung quite low over my head, reminding me of what was to come. For me, this goodbye was not as horrible as saying goodbye to my host family in Spain. My Chilean experience was quite different from my Spanish experience. And I think the fact that I am so excited and so at peace with this homecoming made saying goodbye to my dear Chilean family a little more bearable. Nevertheless, it was, for lack of a better word, weird. It's just a weird feeling knowing that you are leaving soon and do not know the next time you will return. Of course, I hope and pray that I will return to Chile one day but I have no clue when that would ever happen. So, for now, it really felt like a goodbye.
To my surprise, this goodbye was practically tearless (there were a few watery eyes), whereas my Spanish goodbye was adorned with full-fledged sobbing. Crying is really not my thing so I was a little relieved when my host mom did not burst into uncontrollable tears as I left the gate for the last time in awhile. During the weekend, the only time I thought Wow, I really should cry, or shed a tear, or something was during lunch today when my host mom took a moment to say a few words about my time with their family. Everything was going as one would imagine until my host mom presented me with a key to their house, saying that they want me to truly feel part of their family because I most certainly am a part of their family. Wow... That was one of the most symbolic and thoughtful things anyone has ever done for me and definitely caught me off guard. I think the key, as a symbol, does a better job than I ever could at explaining the bond I have with my Chilean family. A key. Una llave. Enough said.
Anyway, once I left and started down the street, my mind started doing that last thing. You know, this is the last... Por ejemplo, this is the last time I will walk down this street. This is the last time I will eat choripan etc. I was sitting at the bus stop, waiting, while my mind was doing that last thing and finally I had to stop myself. I should know better by now. Doing that whole last thing only makes things worse, at least for me. I am not a fan of goodbyes. I'd rather just cut the cord and not drag it out. But regardless of that, I should not be doing the last thing because I don't know what my future holds and who am I to say this is the last time I will do or see so-and-so. A year ago, I most definitely didn't think I would be in Santiago, Chile etc. Life is full of seasons. Seasons come and go. Things change. But sometimes seasons repeat themselves in the most interesting ways. You can never definitively say this is done, for good, forever. Sure, you can close a chapter but you never know when God is going to surprise you or resurface old friends and so on and so forth...
Thus, I can (and should) mourn the fact that I won't be seeing my Chilean family, or Chile for a while, but I can't mourn a definite goodbye. You just never know. For now, I am incredibly thankful for the family with whom I spent most of my time in Chile. They were, quite simply, a blessing from God.
From left to right: Papá, Annia (the oldest), me, Maca (the youngest), y Mamá.
Not pictured: La Abuela, i.e. Grandma
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