Time moves differently when it’s always measured in small quantities.
Something is always ending and beginning. Two months home flew by faster than I could grab hold of it and I found myself flying back to Peru last night and catching my breath somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. It’s strange to love people on different continents. Your heart isn’t bound by landmasses or bodies of water or the 4 walls of a home.
This is how I measure time these days. 6 months in Peru. 2 months home. 2 weeks in Alabama. 5 weeks in Georgia. A few days in Florida. 4 months back in Peru.
I talked the other day with a soldier. My husband connected with him, talking about different countries and the customs they have and the foods they eat. We shared stories about things that happened on our travels and the things that you can prepare yourself for and the things you couldn’t prepare yourself for if you tried.
Sometimes it’s easier for me to talk to the waiters at the Mexican Restaurant than it is to hold conversation at a family dinner. I speak to the man who moved here from Mexico and we understand each other and laugh at the difference in slang words from my country to his. And I realize that Peru is my country. Living abroad changes you in so many ways. In someways your feelings are numbed. Because you see children begging in the streets every day. Because you see homeless people sleeping on the sidewalk every day. Because you see so many cases of abuse. Because you guard yourself against culture shock. Because you experience culture shock and it shakes you. Because these things become normal. In some ways your feelings are amplified. Like the tears in your eyes just because you get to sit at the table with your family. Like the way you hug your grandma before leaving the country again. Like the ache in your chest because you miss your mom. Like the way your heart yearns for understanding. The United States is my country. Peru is my country. I am forever changed by the past 2 years.
The United States is my home. It’s where I was born and raised. Where my childhood memories were made. Where my family lives. Where I understand all of the jokes and the traditions. It’s boiled peanuts and riding four-wheelers with the wind in my hair and a silly grin plastered on my face.
Peru is my home. It’s where my daughter was born. It’s where I learned to be a mom. Where I made a home with my husband for the first time on our own. Where my friends live and where I’ve worked for 2 years. It’s fresh fruit on the street corner and hours spent at the market. It’s riding through insane traffic and blaring music as loud as we can and singing to Jubilee at the top of our lungs. It’s house church and acoustic music and journals laid open. It’s coffee dates with sweet friends.
I think I’ve cried more in the past 2 years than I ever have. Because being a missionary is hard. Because living in another country is hard. Because when the culture is different and church is different and life is hard, and a 6 year old kid is begging at my car window, where is Jesus? Because when religion looks different and “ministry” looks different and life looks different, who am I?
I’ve also never experienced so much joy than I have in the past two years. Because my daughter was born and we’ve built a life and a family together and started The Lily and The Sparrow and watched so many dreams be born and grow into reality. Because we’ve seen miracles and seen God’s love like never before.
Sometimes I feel so much that I don’t know how to deal with it. I want to have all of the answers. I want to be able to reason everything our and explain it. I want to fix everything. But I’m not called to fix everything. I’m called to love. Sometimes I just grab onto one truth and that is my truth today. If I love well, then it is well. If I love well, then I will live well.
When I woke up this morning in Peru, I felt different. I didn’t have the answers. But I did have peace. Peace because I choose to love. Peace because I am loved. Peace because God knows all of the things that happen in my life, all of the questions and all of the struggle. Peace because He made the sun rise today. Peace because He is all that we need, and even when I feel torn between two countries and even when I don’t think I can make it in Peru and even when I totally give up, He is there to pick me back up. He is there to comfort my heart. And I don’t need all of the answers. All I need is Him.
And It is well with my soul. I sang it in my heart this morning before I opened my eyes and I’m going to keep singing it over and over again.
