expectations

I grapple with the feeling of being stuck lately. Immovable. Unshaken.

The other day, I was reveling in contentment of the unknown ends to job-searching stateside, gathering that my heart could be anywhere where my language is spoken as first-nature.

But then I’ve already made it to the other side. The side when I’m questioning could I really manage where English is commonplace, could I manage settling back into the sway of things without another thought…

You see- my heart still lies with those beautiful brown-eyed hearts, with Spanish falling off their tongue and laughter catching their eyes in a twinkle.

So there’s this part of me that feels responsibility and expectations calling me stateside for a time, but then simultaneously there’s another part of me being called by my children, to come back home.

But what do I do from here?

I’m going to love them to the tips of my fingers.

They’re going to hear and see the love from miles away, that’s exactly what I’m here for.

I need to stop thinking the mission field is just Mexico.

I need to stop limiting my God from using me, right here, right now.

But my heart needs to be willing. 

Because I can be moved…

God can move me.

I am not bound by fear, wherever my God desires to take me, I will go.

I will live my life to love.

These bones aren’t dead.

They are alive.

I’m alive.

I live and move and breathe, with Mexico ever-present on my heart.

And well it’s been that way for ten years, and nothing will ever change that.

I think it’s time that I start to live intentionally, as though God’s very purpose is what keeps my heart beating. Because that’s true, right?

He keeps me whole.

He holds me together.

He is the author of my story, the perfecter of my faith.

He spoke my life into being and placed words to flow eloquently through the tips of my fingers.  He gave me life to be awakened by a foreign language, a foreign field.

When criticism tempted me to retire the pen and empty pages, when fear tempted me to keep quiet instead of claiming to speak another language, when uncertainty kept me questioning the move from something stable and known, into the unknown, when brokenness had a hold on my heart- God saw a woman, fully capable and able with HIS STRENGTH. He spoke life into my quaking bones and told me there was more to me than being home.

I am a woman with a heart that longs to be poured out all for love’s cause. I am a woman that was given the voice to speak two languages. I am a woman that sees everything about Mexico, the quirks, the beauty, everything to be home. I am a woman who was purposed to write until His words stop coming, and the pages are meant to remain empty. I am woman, sought out to serve Him on the foreign fields and the ones at home. I am a woman, willing to keep my heart open to love all, and not just one- to keep my hands empty to hold, all those about me.

I am a woman, and I am His, and He is mine.