Countdowns

I'm not sure why, but all my life I have thrived on countdowns. Normally, I truly do enjoy the present state of my life, but it's always fun to have something to look forward to also. Thanks to Google gadgets, my addiction to countdowns has been made easier.

While in Peru, I had  typed in the tentative date for my return trip to Peru. You know, Peruvians are in the moment people, but they were very adamant that I let them know now when I'll be returning. Of course at that time, there were 330+ days left until I'd be returning. Tonight, when I checked up on it, I was informed that there are 298 days until that date (June 23rd if you're wondering). It seems like a lot, but 298 days sounds so much better than 330 days. Honestly, it even sounds better than 300 days.

Viva el Peru!

Real Life Stories

I've worked with orphans and the poor of Peru many times during my trips back and forth. I've grown used to hearing stories of abuse, neglect, alcoholism, drugs, and anything else that leads to a child being abandoned. However, it never ceases to stop me dead in my tracks when I hear the real life stories of my dearest (adult) Peruvian friends.

I'll never forget the Sunday afternoon in September 2009, when a friend and I went to visit the kids at the Kids Alive Home. While the children were busy changing from their church clothes, eating lunch, and whatever else they do on Sunday afternoons, he and I sat and chatted for quite sometime. At some point the conversation turned more serious, and he began telling me about his childhood and how he came to live with Kids Alive. To make a long story short: As a young boy, he lived with his parents in the highlands of Peru. During an act of terrorism, his parents were murdered, and his grandmother was not well enough herself to be able to raise him. She found Kids Alive, and she took him there so that he could be raised in a Godly environment and have opportunities she knew she herself would not be able to provide him.

As I chatted with another friend in December 2009 about my heart for orphans, and the joy I find serving the Lord by serving them, he informed me that he was raised in the Compassion International orphanage, also in Lima. As an adult he has been reunited with his family, but he still carries joy and pain from his childhood.

Today, I chatted with a friend I met just last month. He recently returned from a month long mission in Huacho (where I met him). I asked him to share with me a bit about himself, and he began telling me about his family and his childhood. He is the second of four children; however, he has been unwanted since birth. He described himself as his mother's Italian mistake. For the first 8 years of his life, he lived with his grandmother. At the age of 8, his "father" (the father of his brothers and sister) adopted him, and he returned to live with his mom. His father is abusive toward all of them, and he feels miserable living at home again with them, yet he does not have the money to live on his own. He told me he loves that I always smile because he never learned how. He's thankful for the love of our Father, yet he tells me that often he struggles to fully accept it because he's never known the love of an earthly father.

Those are just three of the heart wrenching stories I have to share tonight. I could go on and on. I guess, I expect that many children have messed up home lives in Peru and in the U.S. but too often I forget that those children become adults, adults that often carry that pain and pay the price for their parents actions.

Every time a friend tells me his/her story, I'm reminded of the sheltered life I've lived. I am eternally grateful for the wonderful parents and upbringing God has provided me. I would not be where I am today without their love and support behind me 100%. And while they don't like the idea of me returning to Peru, I know that if it truly is of the Lord, He will prepare their hearts and walk with them every step of the way.

Time in Between

Well, school has officially started, and I've got 2 full day under my belt. It's been quite a challenge for me to adjust to going to bed at a decent time again, and signing offline earlier means less opportunities to chat with friends in Peru. I'm missing a few of them terribly right now.

Last night, as I sat reading a test strategies book a friend lent me, my eyes burned with tears for no reason at all. As I sat, wishing the tears away, my heart ached and my mind wandered to memories of friends, of the children, and of my church in Peru. I miss being a part of that community. Tonight I spent some time outdoors just enjoying the calm, quiet evening. I spent time in prayer, and God led me to a verse in Colossians 2:6-7 which says, "just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness." He also brought to my mind a song by Francesa Battistelli called, "The Time in Between". Here's the lyrics that specifically struck a chord within me tonight:


Don't take much for this crazy world 

To rob me of my peace
And the enemy of my soul
Says You’re holding out on me
So I stand here lifting empty hands
For you to fill me up again

But it’s the time in between
That I fall down to my knees
Waiting on what You'll bring
And the things that I can't see
I know my song’s incomplete
Still I'll sing in the time in between

I quickly recalled a conversation I had with a friend on Sunday. We talked about how we both know we will not be in this area forever, and how grateful we are to have this "time in between" to spend with our families, loving on them and creating memories with them.

So many times Satan attacks me and fills me with these feelings of emptiness and longing. I often feel that I'm just here, wasting time, waiting until the Lord takes me back to Peru. I cry out to Him with many questions, and often find myself waiting for a response. However, God is not holding out on me, and often I fail to realize that. This "time in between" is necessary for the Lord to shape me and mold me into the person He needs me to be. He's given me this time to grow spiritually, professionally, and personally so that when I make it to Peru, I'm ready to be used in whatever way He has planned for me.

He's given me this time to enjoy my family, minister to those around me, and share His unfailing love with the dear children I teach each day. My prayer tonight is that I not waste a moment in this town. God has plans for me here far bigger than I can imagine, plans that I cannot see. During these next weeks, months, and years here in Indiana, I am going to life my empty hands and sing praise to the Lord because I know that He is not finished with me yet.

And when the time is right, I will be able to take memories of this place with me back to Peru to sustain me during my time there. This time, here and now, may be the most crucial days of my life and I don't want to miss a beat.

Another Year is Upon Us

Tomorrow marks the start of another school year, my second "official" year of teaching. Honestly, it doesn't feel as if school is already beginning. I feel as if the previous academic year ended just a few days ago. It was good to meet my students tonight, get a feel for their families, and see the children get excited about having friends in their class. It also breaks my heart to see how some families operate - divorced homes with children caught in the middle, others with a heavy odor radiating off their clothing.

A few of my students from last year stopped by for a visit this evening. I really enjoyed that class, and I sure am going to miss them.

As my new group of students walk through the door tomorrow, we will begin a 180 day journey together. By the end, I hope that I make an impact on each and every child in some way. I wish to impact them academically, but I also hope that through my life I am able to share the love of Christ with my students. Sometimes the work of a teacher seems daunting and draining, but I know that I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. At the end of the academic year when all is said and done, there's a joy that can be found as one glances at the growth made throughout the year. It cannot be explained; it's a feeling one must witness firsthand.

I'm grateful that for this time God has called me into this profession. Teaching and children are my joy and my passion. They're what I live for, and my career is one way I am able to be a missionary to those around me each and every day. I am so thankful that I chose to ignore the unkind words of one university supervisor when she said, "Maybe you should consider another profession. I just don't think you'll make it as an educator." If only she knew then, what I know now...

God's Promise

I've hinted a few times about a conversation I had with God in Peru and a promise He gave me. I've shared the conversation with a few friends, but I feel it's time to share it with all of you as I ask for your prayers for the upcoming months and years. 

On Thursday evening, July 28th, my dear friend Cassandra and I went down to the beach around 9pm to try out a few Peruvian drinks and enjoy the atmosphere that surrounded us in Mancora. However, we got bored watching the party scene and decided to take a walk down the shore. Cassandra is a quiet person, and for much of the week I had talked and talked and talked. During our walk along the shore, I felt God tell me to rest in silence and enjoy the fresh breeze coming off the ocean. As we walked, Cassandra and I talked a little, but I mostly gazed around me and listened to the waves crash against the sand.

After our walk, Cassandra and I decided to sit under a cabana. As we sat admiring creation and the scenery which surrounded us, I prayed and my heart broke. As I prayed to the Lord about preparing my heart to leave Peru, tears filled my eyes, yet I could not cry. I was silenced; I could not talk, I could not cry. I was mute, literally. I sat for a few moments in complete silence, tuning out the world around me, and it was then that I heard the voice of the Lord more clear than ever before. As the cooling, night breeze brushed over my shoulder, I heard very distinctly, "Trust in me, and I will bring you back here in my perfect timing. You must have faith." It was as clear as day, and I immediately began to weep. I was overcome with joy, and I became filled with peace. No longer did leaving seem so bad (of course, it still wasn't easy); I now know for certain that I will return.

Cassandra isn't a Christian, so I didn't talk much with her about this divine encounter. However, when we returned to the hostel that evening, I was thrilled to talk with two dear friends online and share with them this promise God had spoken directly to me.

For the first time ever, I am absolutely certain that my heart for Peru is of God himself and not just my own crazy dream. I cannot wait to see how this all unfolds!!

Home

Whelp, I'm back in the grand 'ol U.S. of A. After traveling 19+ hours by bus from Mancora to Lima, we rushed straight to the airport Sunday morning for the journey home. Four countries and three planes later, we landed in Chicago at 1:36 a.m. Customs was a disaster with no distinct lines for visitors and citizens. We spent nearly 50 minutes waiting in line followed by 2 minutes at the counter to get our passports stamped. We gathered our belongings and quickly went to meet Michael, who graciously offered to pick us up.

After sleeping most of the morning, I headed into school today, and this evening went shopping for school items with my mom. Many have asked me how it feels to be home. To put it honestly, I'm not sure. Last night, as we boarded our final plane, I wanted nothing more than to be home, hug my parents, and snuggle up in my very comfortable bed. It felt good today to walk into school and have a sense of belonging and comfort. I enjoyed driving my car today and floating in the pool with my parents as we chatted this evening.

However, in my mind, I think first in Spanish and then have to remind myself that here we speak English. As I greeted friends today, I wanted to kiss them on the cheek, but here, we don't do that. I wanted to call up my friend whom I've been in contact with everyday for the last month, but I realized that would cost a fortune. Instead, I settled for glancing at pictures I snapped during the month, and tears of pain and happiness stained my cheeks.

I know I'm here in the U.S. for a purpose. God has given me a great life here, and I am so grateful for the blessings He has poured out upon my life. I will continue to serve Him here with my whole heart until He calls me back to Peru. He's promised me I'll return; it's just a matter of when for which I am uncertain.