I see a girl that had to let go of someone dear, in spite of the pain ravished upon her heart and soul.
Just a girl who refused to give up, lay down; in the midst of days spent in torrents of tears.
I look back on that October, just a year ago, when the application was sent in, after reading a few hundred words in a book. Then there were those months leading up to March, wondering what on Earth was I thinking? How could my wounded heart manage? How could I muster up the courage?
But it was never I. It was never about me. It was always Him and what He could and would accomplish.
Because it was Him, who caught my eyes in that book; it was Him who spurred me to apply.
He knew that I was made for Morelia, even after all of me was surely convinced the Baja- was always where I would be.
I boarded that plane March 23rd and I was looking back. I was afraid. The Holy Spirit was interceding for me in prayer, because the words just wouldn't come.
My flight landed. I was picked up and taken to meet my family for the next three months.
I walked in and something overcame me. I just knew that I was home.
That night, I sent my best friend a text message telling her that I knew I was going to be okay, that I knew I was home.
I didn't know on March 23rd that I would fall in love with a place and people so unknown to me. I didn't know that an ease would come with the language, I fought for so long to learn. I didn't know that those goodbyes, three months later, would be some of the hardest goodbyes I would ever make.
But my God knew.
He knew boarding that plane would forever change me. He knew that my wounded, empty heart, still reeling from someone lost, would come to finally realize He was and is, truly all I ever need.
Those three months of pure joy would turn into a couple of months spent in the desert. My heart would fail me. I'd get caught up in me, again. I'd miss that He was beside me, His hands waiting to take mine.
But I'd find hope. He would renew what was lost, rekindle the flame.
He'd use people to wash away the wounds of words. He'd use beautiful friends to take me in for a time, resume loving and living as if years hadn't passed. He'd use a church in Texas to speak life over me, many times over-placing me in the center, pouring their hearts out in prayer.
He'd provide continually-showing up in t-shirt money with letters showering me in support. He'd spur an idea in a friend for a craft show, putting me well on my way to Morelia for sixth months or more.
He is providing and I am just a daughter, awestruck at how blessed I am.
Simply put, my heart is overwhelmed. . .
So here I am, hopeful and grateful-welcoming Thanksgiving...with this mess of words.
I am thankful for you, today. You've sat with me in silence. You've spoken life over me. You've prayed for me. You've read my heart in words, time and again. You've supported me. You've challenged me.
You've loved me.
And there are many, many times when love is all that is needed.
Praise be to our God, who creates us to be something more, who makes our hearts come alive with passion, who sets us apart.