Searching

I’ve started (and promptly erased) many attempts at a blog post these last few weeks. I’m not sure why I find it so hard to write to you all; I rarely run out of words. There’s so much to tell – good and difficult. I realized that I haven’t really updated at all about my life here. The last blog was more an outpouring of my heart from my work, but it wasn’t really of substance. That being said, there will be a lot more to come I’m sure. But, this is all that comes to mind right now. I hope it gives you some insight onto what this time has brought.

I’m searching…

Searching as I pace back and forth from my room, to the kitchen, to the hill, to my room again -
as I check Facebook, almost obsessively, and check my e-mail just as often

I’m think I’m searching for words,

But really I seek something different.
I’m looking for the familiar,
for the known,
for settled-ness
I’m searching for comfort.
I’m searching to know I’m capable, safe and loved.
I’m searching for…
me.

But what I’m finding is newness -
new house
new friends

new work
new kids
new music

new language.
Everything new and challenging

and I wonder if I can assimilate to it all?
Can I take it all in?
Can I adapt, change,
mutate into something that fits here -
a Gringa masquerading in the outfit of a conquistador.
Here to change the world,
be your best friend and confidant
to love and to save.

What have I found?
I’ve found that a besito can heal a wound,
trust can turn un loco into a gentleman,
teaching guitar isn’t the most important part of guitar lessons,
and taking your time brings many blessings.
I’ve found that despite all that’s new,
there is something familiar.

I’ve found me.

A gringa
struggling to speak and teach and love.
I’ve found that instead of changing the world,
I’m going to be changed by it.
I’ve found that my struggles, insecurities and questions
were packed in my suitcase.
I’ve found that I would love to be a mother,

and a Sister,

and a teacher,
and whatever else,
as long as I could show someone they are loved.
I’ve found that I haven’t learned it all and I never will.
I’ve found that I will change, adapt and grow in the face of challenge.
I’ve found that God will always be faithful

and goodbyes will always be hard.
I’ve found God in all those things above.
As a counselor,

A friend,
A confidant,
A source of strength,
as my Beloved.

But most importantly, I’ve found that there will always be love.

The Reality of Falling in Love

The kids I work with are just like other kids I’ve worked with. They drive me crazy and at the same time, they warm my heart with one hug. They exhaust me, but somehow when I go home, I miss being climbed on. They need diaper changes CONSTANTLY and just like all kids, they throw temper tantrums and call me names like fea (ugly) and caca (poop) and sometimes things so much worse. They are truly like every other kid.

But then again, they are not. They are children of adolescent mothers. Today, I had lunch with a 15 year old who is the mother of two beautiful little boys.  Fifteen and having given birth twice! Can you imagine? I look around the cafeteria during lunch and it seems like a bunch of high school girls playing house … but they are not playing. This is their reality. Do you remember being fifteen? I do. I know that I was nowhere near selfless enough to be a mother. Science tells us that our brains are not fully developed until we are 25, and as a 23 year old who constantly makes ridiculous decisions, I stand as living proof that this is true. These women aren’t living together because they feel that community is a beautiful thing, but because they need this program to give them a chance with their children. My culture shock of the day was that these girls need this program, not only to flourish, but to simply keep their children in some cases.

Today, I saw a young woman – a 15 year old – lose the one place that she and her daughter might have had a chance. When we walked to the cafeteria and saw all the girls crying, of our friends told us that a girl had been having some trouble and was being sent home. My first thought was how are she and her daughter going to make it without the support and education they receive at Posada. It wasn’t until a little later that I found out her daughter, one of my “favorite” little girls with the big smile and cuddly personality, would not be going home with her mother but was being taken by social services. The decision this teenager made did not just have consequences, but it meant that her child was taken from her.

I know I’m pretty much reiterating the point over and over, but I just can’t seem to wrap my head around the weight that these girls have to bear. Now, I’m not taking the responsibility off her shoulders entirely, because she clearly made enough trouble that she was asked to leave. But honestly, who didn’t repeatedly make stupid decisions when they were a teenager. My heart goes out to these women in such a huge way. I cannot imagine holding the weight of someone else life on decisions I make. I hope and pray that someday I can be as courageous as them. I hope and pray that one day, if I’m called to be a mother, I look into the eyes of my child and all else falls away. I hope and pray that, just like I would do for these kids, I fall so far in love that nothing else in my life is the same.