Grace and the Slice of Humble Pie

Let me tell you a little story about a girl named Grace and her favorite dessert - Humble Pie.

Grace loved Humble Pie so much that she always gave it away - wanting to share it with everyone that they might experience the same joy from this remarkably delicious pie. Offering a piece here and a piece there, Grace often found herself giving out every last piece of pie before she even got one for herself. To those who got a piece, they found that each bite stung as they ate it. Though it hurt to swallow it down, the sweet taste and filling satisfaction at the end was always worth it. To Grace, the satisfaction in others' eyes and hearts was always worth waiting for a piece of her own.

Grace has been serving me a couple pieces of Humble Pie. One of those slices is a tasty little morsel full of the fruit (aka side effects) of anger. It's a hard pie to swallow.

This is my sixth time in Peru, and so far I've spent about 5-6 total months in this country, so you'd think I would've gone through culture shock at some point already, right? Wrong. I know - weird, right? I figured it out though...

This is my first time here without other Americans around. This is my first time being fully exposed to Peruvian culture without American refuge or defenses. I'm like a little gringa sheep in a sea of Peruvians. Baahhh.

Today marks the halfway point through my journey - I have been here for a month. This past month has been no piece of cake. I felt like a little girl locked in a batting cage without a bat and the machine running. Each blow came flying at me, 90 mph, so fast I couldn't even see the next one - money stolen from my bank account, car problems, getting a parasite and being sick for a week, struggling relationally with the boys I work with, language barriers, and dealing with a completely different cultural setting through all of it. The way people talk, the way they react when you're sick, the way they react when you unintentionally say something offensive, the way they react when you do something incorrectly, the lack of freedom I have here and how much I have to rely on others to get around. So many sensitivities and insensitivities on both sides of the equation. So much less freedom to do whatever I want to do. It. Is. Frustrating.

But why? Does it have to be?

No.

That's the thing. It doesn't have to be that frustrating. I don't have to get angry. I was just getting ticked off because a) all of these minor frustrations were building up in my mind and b) I wasn't getting my way. And I thought my way was the best way. At the bottom of it all, there's something twisted in my heart and in my flesh saying, "You're better than them. You know better than they do."

Like I said... hard pie to swallow. Hard to admit to myself - "Holy crap. There's a part of me that is a totally stubborn, proud, angry, self-interested little girl who thinks she's better than those around her." Once I realized that, I also realized that believing that and acting out of this nasty little root in my heart will not accomplish any good. It will not love others for Christ. It will not see the big picture. It will not humble itself and seek Grace. This little root will stir up frustration with any little inconvenience or contradiction or action to the way I think things should go.  It'll keep me stubbornly rooted in faulty sand, standing up against the waves instead of trying to ride them and just go with the flow.

I've acted out of that root since I've been here. I've acted out of that root my whole life. Every time I do, I see how it affects those around me and myself. When I act out of a place that's high and mighty or full of anger, I'm in the wrong. When I realize I'm wrong, it's a long fall from the top of my ego. Big tree fall hard.

There is beauty in humility. There is love and kindness in having grace with myself and with others - in realizing that I am not perfect and neither are they. There is something chill and beautiful in letting go of my culture while I'm here, allowing for inconveniences, and embracing Peruvian culture. Grace is a bomb diggity surfer. She rides the waves of life, taking them in stride. She knows that waves will keep on coming, and she will keep on riding them. Like a boss.

So, once again, we get Elsa on it, and I hear the Lord singing, "Let it go."

Just let it go, and ride the waves as they come. Have Grace with yourself. Have Grace with others.

“The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one's 'own' or 'real' life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one's real life -- the life God is sending one day by day.” C. S. Lewis

Yes, Clive. Gettin' it. Allowing for interruptions is a thing of Grace. Trusting God goes hand in hand with having grace and faith with the circumstances He brings into our lives.

The great thing about this Grace is that it is freely given. It's beautifully humble because it hurts the giver  and entirely blesses the receiver (and yet, also the giver. full circle). The blood of Jesus has covered every crappy thing any of us has ever done if we repent and believe that he is the son of God and he has taken away our sin. It is Amazing Grace. That's what it is. And He gives it to us. He has satisfied the punishment of sin that separates from Him. He takes us off the guilty trial seat in the courtroom and puts himself in our place. He freely offers grace.

This may be a whole other blog post, but I'm starting to realize for the first time how absolutely necessary repentance is. How else do we accept the grace of the blood of Christ if we don't realize how badly we need it?

For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. - Titus 2:11

If there's something I know this Advent season, it's that

1. I'm an angry, selfish human who has sinned a lot in my life - against God and other people. And my sin hurts God and other people... so I'd like to stop sinning ideally.

2. My name is written in the Book of Life, and all of my sin - everything that separates me from God - is covered by the blood of Christ. I will be found just before the throne of God one day, and I will be reunited with Him in totally awesome and complete joy. Forever.

3. We've got a long way to go, my Lord and I. I think that was the plan all along. :-D

This Advent, I would love to hear what you are learning! Where have you needed or shown Grace in your life?

Prayer Request Corner

• Yo, I've been getting sick. A lot. Would love prayer against that
• For an AWESOME Christmas with the boys! 
• that the Christmas package my family sent would arrive before Christmas! (would be great if it got to Peru today - Friday)
• For the group of Americans coming for the New Year - that we'd have an amazing amazing time together 
• prayer for protection against evil, harm, and attacks from the devil 
• prayer for trust, control over my emotions, and a really wonderful second month here in Peru 
• prayer for my future - I have no idea what all I'll be doing when I get back home, but I'm starting to think about it. 

Wherever You Will Go

"Way up high or down low, I'll go wherever you will go..."

If you were a preteen in the 2000s, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Blond mushroom haircut, cross-necklace clad boy banders The Calling crooning about following a girl wherever she will go. Up high, down low. He'd even get Cher in on it and turn back time, if he could.

We talked about that tonight - the house parents Rosa, Angel and I - as they told me the fully epic story of how God turned bad into good in their lives, healed their marriage, and laid out a series of perfect occurrences to bring them here to this amazing boys' ministry in the mountains of Peru. In each step of the way, they followed what God was doing and where He was going - whether dragging their feet or leaping with delight.

That's when it occurred to me - as a Christian, I'm basically a lifelong God stalker, following him like that mushroom cut singer followed that girl- wherever He will go.

"Follow me and I will make you fishers of men." - Jesus, Matthew 4:19

Talk about the calling (ba dum ch). The fishermen Jesus was talking to straight up dropped their nets and followed him. Wherever he went. For, like, three years.

Have you ever had one of those moments? Has God called you to something in your life?

I think callings can and do look different to people. For Rosa, she knew she needed to pray for and re-unite with her estranged husband. For Angel, after reuniting with Rosa, he had a strong feeling he knew he'd be here in the mountains someday in some sort of ministry. For me, God spoke.

Or more truthfully, He whispered.

Let's rewind a bit. I've been in love with Latino language and culture ever since my 7th grade exploratory Spanish teacher asked me if I was Latina because I had a good accent (and I awkwardly told her, "no, I'm Korean and Norwegian" because, well, I'm awkward). The dancing, the romance, the sass, the food, the people, the way over-the-top telenovelas (soap operas), TACOS, all of it. That love carried me from middle school to high school to college, where I decided I wanted to study abroad in Spain. 

But God had other plans. Better plans.

Sophomore year of college, I hit this deep pit of depression. I mean, I was in a real funk and a half. I tried to pull myself out, and it only made things worse.  Thankfully, I had good friends who pointed me back to God and said, "stop trying to do this alone and seek Him." So, I did. I was like, "God, I'm about 50% sure you can hear me right now, but I just know that things suck right now and I'd love it if you came and changed things around."

And so, He came. He changed. He conquered.

How, you ask? He answered that prayer by putting a heavy weight in my chest over going abroad. Like, an actual physical weight I could feel. Unusual, right? 

This weight started in May, and the deadline to apply came in October. I felt pretty confused about it and stubbornly convinced it was still a good idea to go abroad. I didn't get it. I was like, "What's so wrong with it, God??! It's going to be great!" Yet, the closer we got to October, the heavier the weight became.

Finally, I conceded one day, two weeks before the deadline to apply, in the laundry room of my dorm.  I said, "Alright, Lord. If you don't want me to go, I won't go. Just take this weight away."

Half a second later, the weight was gone. I couldn't get it back - I tried. What was left in its place was lightness, peace, protection, and a promise:

"You will do something else abroad someday."

And that was that. I mean, other really awesome God stuff happened after, but nothing yet abroad. Until I graduated college, and I heard the Lord say,

"Pack your bags. Be ready to go. And when I call you, get up and go."

I, in my genius logic, was like, "God, how am I supposed to pack for somewhere if I don't know where I'm going?!" 

So, I didn't pack. 

I went away to work at a music camp that summer. When I finished work at camp and moved back to my college town, my friend asked one day, "hey, want to go check out this new church?" "Sure," I said. Little did I know how showing up at that church on that one day would totally rock my world and change my life.

You see, that very day, when we arrived late and snuck in the back row of this little church, a man stood up and began to talk about a mission trip he took with another church to Peru. He talked about the mission they worked with - a Scripture Union home for abandoned boys called Kusi, and he shared some of the boys' background stories of their lives before Kusi.

By the end of his presentation, I was bawling. Hysterically. Like, hyperventilating. I had never been so convicted in my life. Hearing about this mission for abandoned street boys in Peru gave me the super feels. So, sitting in the back row of this little church, I started to pray, "Lord, send me. I want to go."

Then, I heard Him say, strongly yet softly, "Go." Like, heard it. As if He were sitting next to me, leaned over and whispered it aloud and also somehow magically into my entire soul.

There it was. That fateful day the Lord kept and began His promise. That day where I happened to show up at this one little church out of hundreds of churches in the area and this one man happened to be talking about his mission trip to Peru and we happened to catch the presentation. All of these happenings that just happened to be perfectly orchestrated.

So, I followed God to Peru. So far, He's led me to six trips and a cumulative half year spent in Peru, hundreds of new friends, a new Peruvian family, and a passion and love that just keep growing for these boys and this mission.

I love being here. As much as I love you all and my family so so dearly and I'm so blessed to have you, sincerely sincerely, I feel at home here. I'm just happy. This is literally what the Lord has called me to, and I am so blessed by it- through hardships and delight. 

I like to joke that, if I ever get married, it'll take one heck of a guy to get between me and my Peru, but I think it's true (or, even better, he'll love it as much as I do!). Since I've been here, I've seen the devil try to discourage me and bring me down - to convince me that I'm not supposed to be here. Thankfully, I've been blessed with the voices of those around me who know God and know me - who remind me that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. It's refreshing to hear those words because I can just let go and really focus on Jesus and what he's doing here. I can let go and listen for how the Lord wants to love His people here in Peru - these boys, this community, and I can ask Him to be a part of that every day. I can get over myself, drop my net, and follow him.

That's my encouragement for you - that you drop your net and follow him wherever he's going. From what I can tell from personal experience, it's the best adventure you could ever have.

"The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." - Jesus, John 10:10

The Fear

One of my favorite songs this year comes from a handy dandy little British man named Ben Howard. It's called "The Fear." In it, he sings

"I've been worryin' that we all live our lives in the confines of fear."

Worry and fear. Two things that feed each other endlessly, that put the human carrying these two burdens on a slippery slope down into a Godless abyss of confusion and anxiety. Two things that have pummeled me time and again. Two things that I feel I will be battling in massive ways this time around in Peru.

Confession: I've pretty much always been a scaredy cat. As a kid, I always needed to fall asleep with the hallway light on (still do sometimes...). I'd even take a running leap from the other end of the hallway to avoid being snatched by the monsters hiding under my bed. It didn't stop there. Whenever we'd play hide and go seek or chasing games, I'd be so afraid of someone running after me that, when they did, I'd just fall to the ground laugh, cry, and pee a little. Also, I can't watch horror movies. If I do, the images will haunt me for years.

Ridiculous, I know. I'll often ask people who like watching horror movies, "how do you do it?!" Their usual response is, "I just tell myself it isn't real." It's the same thing my Mom would tell me if I was ever home alone in the house - "it's all in your head."

She's right. That's why I tell myself or others to make myself feel more adult-ish, "oh, I just have a wild imagination so I can't watch movies like that," or, "I can't/don't like to be at home by myself." The problem with that is telling myself these things will only continue to harbor the worry and fear, not face it.

So, here I am in the mountains of Peru, living in my friend's house by myself. Not necessarily ideal for an extreme extrovert, let alone one who is still somewhat afraid of the dark and being alone.

The other night was my first night alone in the house. Mama Rosa (the house mom here at Kusi) asked if I wanted to come stay at her house. I told her, "no, I think I need to get used to this." I laid awake in bed for an hour, feeling the adrenaline rush through my veins at every weird, loud refrigerator noise, house creak, or dog barking outside. Staring at the crack in my door just waiting for something to happen. Then, I realized, "If I keep doing this, there's no way I'm getting any sleep. It is all in my head." It's like that guy FDR says, "The only thing to fear is fear itself."

Isaiah 41:10 says,
"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

I was meditating on this verse all day the second night I knew I'd have to sleep alone. "It's right... what is there to fear, God, if you are with me? If it is my time to go for whatever reason, I need to trust that that's in your hands," I thought. I prayed Philippians 4:6-7 - to give those crazy anxious thoughts to God and ask for peace.

And He gave it to me.

Little old afraid-of-the-dark me drove up to camp that night, feeling totally ok driving in the dark by myself. When I got to camp, I felt a deep peace that really went beyond my understanding or even ability to create such a peace. It was like I could see light in the dark, and nothing in the shadows frightened me. Not even the refrigerator that breathes like Darth Vader, nor the random house creaks the adobe house makes (who knew adobe could creak?!).

There was just. peace. And it rocked. It reminded me that my God is faithful, He answers my prayers, He's bigger than anything that even could be hiding in the shadows, and He has me here. In His hands. For a reason.

I was texting my sister while I was in bed last night, forgetting these promises already, and she said, "Just keep praying for it :) He's there with you. You're exactly where you're meant to be." TOO RIGHT, sister. Too right, you... 

One of the boys was even telling me about his struggles with fear at lunch today (talk about a recurring theme). Every day at the cafe, we eat lunch together and talk through a devotional. Today's devo just so happened to be about thinking the thoughts of God and letting everything else fall to the wayside. Whaddaya know. This boy, Cocha, was telling me about how he used to be afraid when going to bed, even though he shared a room with other people. He said, "I just had to remember that God is powerful, and He is with me. Once I remembered that, I stopped being afraid."

So, it's looking like the antidote to fear is faith. To believe these promises, believe God is with me, believe He is bigger than flipping everything, and to be. not. afraid. If fearsome thoughts reside in my head, why can't the thoughts of God kick them out and reside there instead? (rhyme quasi-unintentional...)

If you find yourself dealing with fear sometimes, what do you do to battle it?

Prayer corner 

Would love it if you'd like to pray that I continue to feel peace in the house, that God would be over it, protecting the house and me, and that I'd keep trusting His promise to be with me. That He is bigger and better than anything. Pray that anything evil could just stay the heck out, and that God's Spirit would rest on that place and the entire camp.

Extra Credit Prayers

Probably another blogpost to come on these soon, but would love prayer for:
- the boys
- the house family - Rosa, Angel, Alexia, Jusephi
- Scripture Union - the program behind the boys' home is going through a lot of changes. Prayer for a smooth transition would be sweet.
- the Cafe - that we'd continue to be successful in the slow season, and that I'd adjust to Peruvian business methods
- my Spanish. It's nerve-wracking speaking mostly only Spanish all day long. And messing up, like, all the time. Would love prayer that I'd mejorar (get better) fairly quickly and be able to understand/express myself well with the customers who often blank-face me. 

Rookie of the Week

Learning how to drive manual on the highest mountain in Peru makes you feel like a total badass.

There's something so satisfying about shifting gears and understanding the deeper physics behind mobiles. On top of that, you can garner some mad respect points from Peruvians if you're a woman. Want to talk about stereotypes? They really think women can't drive. Like, at all. They're more impressed that I'm a woman driving a car than that I've learned manual in a week.

Learning manual wasn't all easy peasy squeezy, though. I've had to go through some coaching and rough bumps in the road (seriously) to get to this point where driving manual is almost becoming second nature. That's pretty much been the theme of my first week here in Peru - aka the week of the Rookie.

Generally, I pride myself on being a fairly quick learner (and humble at that!). But when you throw a bunch of different things with lots of tiny details in the pot of learning? My brain begins to stew.  That's kind of what this week has been like - learning lots of little things, big things, and praying that I don't forget either of them along the way.

The little things are what I would consider things that, on their own, don't change the core of my life. I think little things are more likely to reveal what resides at the core. This week has been full of them - learning the ropes at the cafe, in the car, and what to do in mini crises like when my bank account stopped working because I got phished. Yeah. That actually happens (careful where you swipe your card). The cool thing about having a lot of little things pile up slash a mini crisis is these circumstances point me back to God. It reminds me that He's bigger than me and all of these things added together.

Through these little things, I'm starting to see the themes of some Big Things. I think we're about to get serious with some trust, prayer, and grace. So not vague, right? These three things, I'm feeling, will be the core of whatever God is teaching me while I'm here in Peru.

For starters, TRUST. The day after I got to Peru last week, someone in Georgia stole my moneys. At the time, I didn't have enough cash on me to last the entire time I'm here. I needed to figure out how to get a new bank card sent to this little old country called PERU where addresses can be faulty and the mail system even faultier. Oh, that and I didn't have an easy way to call the US without WiFi. [Insert freak out moment here].

Thankfully, a lot of small little pieces were in place where, looking back at it, I can tell God was over all of it. Por ejemplo, I called the bank before leaving America to say "hey, I'll be in Peru for a while." That's probably the only reason they would've thought Georgia to be a totally strange place for me to be. I was also in Lima, which was not the original plan, but it made it a lot easier to take care of this banking issue business. On top of that, I have amazing family and friends who helped me to coordinate a bajillion different things to a) get some cash in Peru to carry me over until the card gets here and 2) get the card here. It all just kept getting better and better.

The thing about trust is - when I'm in the middle of the worry spot, I can look at one of two things - God or what I'm worried about. Usually, I keep looking at what I'm worried about. Enter God getting His Frozen on like "Let it gooo..."

I wish I would listen sometimes. Instead, I get caught up in this worry spiral that just snowballs into everything - money, safety, little things, big things. It's the pits.

If I really trusted the Lord was good and was with me, like really really trusted Him, I don't think it would be an issue. He would fill me with peace, and I would get straight up Elsa on that business and let it go. That's His promise -

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard our hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. - Philippians 4:6-7

Preach, Paul. Preach. Grace, prayer, and other lessons in trust are yet to come. In the meantime, excuse me while I play that verse and Frozen on repeat.

p.s. Prayer Corner
If you'd like to pray for me, I would love prayer that this verse would actually sink in - especially when it comes to staying in the house by myself or managing the cafe. Thanks! :)

The Greatest Analogy I've E'er Heard

Wrote this bad boy back in July, and it's as relevant as ever:

Props to my boss for this one. We met today so that I could tell him, "hey, soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo I'm moving."

Jefe (what I call him): Where? To Nashville?
Me: Nope
J: Toooo... Memphis?
Me: Nope
J: Tooo... [insert other random locale here]
Me: No.
J: I give up.
Me: C'mon, Jefe. This is easy. You can do it.
J: ....... ........ ............. Peru?
Me: Nailed it.

Following this moment in time was a long, heartfelt conversation filled with warm fuzzies and unicorn anecdotes. Joking, but it was a good conversation. I really respect and appreciate my boss. A lot. I  had to tell him soon because a) I have a crazy out-of-town schedule coming up and b) he'll need time to find someone to take my place.

SO, after telling him all the vacation business (I'll pretty much be gone for half of August and September) and asking, "whaaatt do we do with this?" we figured out a beautiful plan together that works well for all parties involved. It includes me staying through August, working part-time in September, helping train the noob, and then propelling forward into the world. And the Lord looked upon it and said, "it is good." I said, "I concur whole-heartedly."

Never one to not speak my mind (or use double negatives), I said to Jefe, "sometimes I feel like a crazy person. Like this is crazy, right? Exciting, but... crazy."

Then Jefe, in all of his infinite wisdom, looks off to the right corner of the room and wistfully begins to impart glorious knowledge upon my wandering mind, "You know... it's kind of like if you were to take a trip from Washington state to Florida. You know the direction that you're headed, but you probably don't know what roads you'll take once you get to Florida. However, you do have a general idea of how to get to Florida. Part of the joy is in what you'll discover on the way there."

So sage. I said, "That... is my new favorite analogy, and I will share it with everyone."

So, here you go, everyone. Even amid the unknowns, obstacles, and the which-door-will-I-take scenarios, I trust that this will work out. I'm setting my eyes on the Lord, and we're looking at Peru. Somehow, someway, we'll likely get there. At some point in time. Then, who knows what'll happen when I get there? Adventure, new doors, new friends, good times, hard times. One thing is for certain - God will be there. Just as much as He is here. That's reassuring, for sure.

I leave you with a physical representation of this glorious analogy, and a map of roughly the way that I would probably actually go if I were to drive from Washington to Florida...

EVERYTHING IS AWESOME

You guys. It's happening. I'm going to Perú. For an extended period of time.

Pause for emphasis and joy yells. !!!!!!!!!!!.

I stepped outside my car last night, looked up at the clear night sky, and realized I'll be looking at a very different set of stars come Saturday, aka TODAY.

This is all quite the jump from that post seven months ago where the idea of moving to Peru was all talk and daydreams. The last year has been an insane journey - with God's awesome plans unfolding in a way I couldn't have planned or imagined. Since  March, I've applied and was accepted to be a missionary in Peru for one year (that comes later), quit my job, spent half of August and September traveling, got a sweet interim contract job between when my last job ended and what's happening now - the opportunity to go to Peru the third time this year and for two months. 

So many curveballs, and I'm loving it! This one came about when my friend Scott asked me in July if I wanted to come help run his cafe in Peru for two months at the end of the year. I just wrote back, "yup," and let the details fall where they would. 

And fall they did. Here I am, possibly the only gringa on this connecting flight to San Salvador on my way to Peru, feeling somewhat totally unprepared (because I packed last night and didn't really mentally process any of this until this morning) and somehow at peace that this is going to be total awesome sauce (and that I'll become a baller barista extraordinaire). The sneaky little worry wart in me is praying everything was packed that I needed. Praying for safety and an amazing time. Praying nothing terrible happens (I have a wild imagination). The adventurer in me is crying, "HALLEFREAKINGLLUJAH!!!" And the processor in me can't believe how amazing this year has been, and how much of a parallel it is that I'm leaving for Peru exactly one year after life took a hugely difficult turn.

Thanks be to God! Thanks be to you guys, too- I'm so grateful for such amazing friends and family.

If you'd like to pray for me, I'd love prayer for safety while traveling and living there, great community, relationships, and healing while I'm there, for my mind - that I lean into God's word, block out the devil, and TRUST God, for protection from the enemy, that nothing gets stolen, and that this time is just awesome - especially since it'll be my first Christmas away from home.

I love you guys. ¡Nos vemos!

VIDEO THINGS

And also, THIS:

I made it three years ago and have never been able to successfully share it UNTIL THIS VERY MOMENT.

This is the visual evidence that I was, in fact, in Peru. For a while. With other people. These are some of the places we went, things we did, and the laughs we shared immortalized on the YouTubes. Disfrutense, Enjoy :)

By Faith > By Sight

Hi there. Me again. Can you believe it's been almost three years since I took that giant leap of faith and headed south to my beloved Peru? I can't. Time flies.

I was thinking about this the other day, and I realized I had absolutely no idea what I was getting into that summer. I mean, I knew it had something to do with the street boys I love, wearing soccer clothes all day every day, speaking Spanish, traveling around to absurdly beautiful teal lakes whilst getting to know complete strangers, growing in faith, and ... well, that's about it, really. The story of how this all went down is straight ridiculous.

Flashback: I'm a 23-year-old in the middle of a quarter-life crisis who just quit her job working for a kind but emotionally invasive lawyer (used the Socratic method on his employees. not cool, man). I start nannying for my mom's friend, and all I know is that I want to get the heck out of Northern VA and go live abroad. By myself. A-lone.

So, I started applying to overseas job opportunities in Spain, Serbia, and Costa Rica for the summer. Whilst doing all of these applications to random locales (Serbia?), I'm secretly thinking and praying the whole time "Wouldn't it be greatttt if I could just gooo and live in Peruuu and wear soccer shoorrrts and no makeupp and be with people, speaking Spanish, hanging with the boys, being outside all the time?! Mmmmthat'd be pretty great, God."

Sho enough, that door opened. My friend Scott messaged me on Facebook one April day saying, "hey, we're looking for interns to come work for SU for the summer in Peru. If I remember correctly, your Spanish was pretty good. Want to come?"

I thought it was a trick. I looked that message in the face and said, "No, Providential message! You can't fool me! Clearly, you don't want me to do the exact thing I want to do. That's just too easy. It's okay, I've figured out your 'Master Plan.' I'll go to Serbia. I know it's what you want me to do." God was probably laughing and shaking His head a little.

Fair enough - the joke was on me. I didn't want to go to Serbia. At all. Serbia felt about as bland as Wonderbread to me, whereas Peru was like the most glorious piece of Bananas Foster french toast ya ever did see. Disregarding all that, I emailed the Serbian people and said, "Ok, Serbia. Here comes me." Then, to my surprise, they were all like, "Sorry, we've got 11 dudes and no other girls. We're not down with that, so this is gonna be a dudes only trip." And I was like, "Whaaattt?" and they were like, "whaaatttt?! but for real, you can't come."

Closed door. Innnn my face.

"Cool, God. So, uhmmm... Peru?" Yup. Peru. There was a sweet job opportunity on the table, too. I made a "decision plan" and said, "alright, God. If I can do this sweet job opp and go to Costa Rica, then I'll do that. If they don't let me do that, I'M GOING TO PERU. YA CAN'T STOP ME." (God nods along knowingly).

I couldn't do the job and Costa Rica. They told me they needed me statpronto. I said, "I get that a lot, but I gots ta go. So...."

At this point, it's about three weeks from when I'd need to leave for Peru. I messaged Scott back and said, "still need help?"

A couple of days later, my future Peruvian bossman Skyped me while I was on a nannying trip in some faraway land (New Jersey). I was expecting our conversation to be an interview complete with job offer, etc. But he basically told me about the job, then said, "soo, buy a plane ticket to Lima on June 1, bring $750 with you, and we'll pick you up at the airport." It sounded like the sketchiest operation ever. I was like, "I'm IN!"

I had no idea what would happen when I got to the airport. I didn't even know my schedule when I got down there or what resources I'd have to tell my family, "Yes, hello, I'm here, un-kidnapped, and still with pulse! Hooray!" I had little idea of what to pack, and I had three weeks to get my shots, moneys, and tickets. And it all came together. Quite swimmingly, at that.

The Lord is SO GOOD, guys. So. good.

So, it is currently 3 years later, and I'm still in love with a South American country. Normal? Probably not. A sign? Definitely. The older I get, the more I (and those around me) are beginning to realize that this isn't just some summer fling that I needed to get out of my system. It's actually beginning to look like a (wait for ittt, wait for iiitttt) dream. Yeah, guys. A real dream. It gives me the shivahs just thinking about it.

So, how does one pursue a dream? Is it something that you wait around patiently for God to open the doors in His right timing? Or, do you start taking little tiny babysteps towards it - stepping out in faith, if you will? At this point, from where I stand, it's starting to look like a strange combination of both. I start walking and knocking on doors with Jesus, and He'll reveal things as we go. I mean... looking back, that's kind of what happened three years ago. I think I'm ready for that to start happening again.

It's terrifying and beautiful all at the same time. I used to hate it when people asked me what my "life plans" were. I had no idea, and I thought "plans change, so why make them?" Now, I'm beginning to get it.

My sister and I were talking about it yesterday, and she, too, scoffed at the idea of having "life plans" or  "goals."

"What are life goals, anyway? Do you have life goals?!"
"Well, yeah," I said. "I think I'm starting to."
"Really? Like how? What are they?"
"(Shrug) Living in Peru, photography... I dunno. I think it's setting your eyes on something and marching courageously towards it. I feel like the dreams I have are probably smaller than the ones God has for me. Yet, if I start getting at these smaller ones, I think He'll show me what the bigger ones are."

It's like that Caribou Coffee napkin says (yes, I get my inspirational quotes from coffee napkins and eye shadow boxes sometimes): Life is about picking a direction and going with it. That's not necessarily my life philosophy or anything, but I think there's some good truth behind that - i.e. walking in Faith.

"For we live by faith, not by sight." - 2 Corinthians 5:7

The Lord put this verse on my heart last night and this morning, and it's been fun letting it set in. Faith allows us to see waaayy beyond what's just in front of us. Even if we can't see what's ahead at all, we can have Faith that the Lord we're walking with is good. He will lead us in the way we should go. Let the actions begin!