Sometimes

Monday, I sent an email to my family and my prayer tribe.

There were some heavy things going on, and I was desperately craving their prayer support.

Because my heart was split in two.

A spiritual dichotomy.

I wrote:

"Part of me is the warrior princess who is so angry at the god of this world who has blinded their mind, that I want to jump in the battle and do serious damage...

But the bigger part of me is the devastated friend who feels only capable of curling in a ball in the corner, half-heartedly lobbing ineffective arrows."

There were wonderful responses. Responses filled with truth.

Jesus is bigger!

Get back in the battle!

We're praying and supporting!

And then this tender little response.

From my big brother:

"I will come curl up with you."

I have kept that verbal treasure in my heart, and pulled it out at various times throughout the last two days.

I believe that Jesus uses each one of the above responses in His own dealings with us.

Sometimes we get a pep talk. A loving,

"I've got this."

"Get back in the battle."

"My strength, not yours."

But sometimes.

Sometimes, He just comes and curls up with us.

Some Pictures For Your Viewing Pleasure

 Abigail y yo <3

 So many squishable babies to love on!

 World's tiniest banana 

 Watching (and feeling) the clouds roll in at Vulcan Irazú

 Delicious contrast in colors!

 The front of our house

 Proving that missionaries can be hot... even in 3D glasses.

 Gorgeous birthday flowers!

Celebrating 35 in style, with some of the precious people God has lovingly placed in my life!

Book-End Promises

Two weeks ago, I got a message from a friend.

"I was praying for you, and this is the verse that God brought to my mind."

"'For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed,

but my steadfast love shall not depart from you,

and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,'

says the Lord, who has compassion on you."

- Isaiah 54:10

And as soon as I started reading it, my cheeks started to smile while my eyes started to water. Because there in the margin of my Bible, is written "From Jill, Nov '12."

Last November, as I was one month into this Costa Rican adventure...

my heart was homesick,

my head was not in the game, 

and my entire world felt... off.

And this November, as I am one month away from leaving Costa Rica behind...

my heart is in love with this land and people,

my head is completely in the game, 

and my entire world feels... on.

I'm gearing up to go back to NH.

But I have something new written in my Bible... "From Angie, Nov' 13."

I go home with the same assurance that got me through this past year.

His steadfast love doesn't depart.

Regardless of my address.

Some Days

She stumbled into the room, steps shaky and uncertain due to age and alcohol.

She sat down and looked at me.

Then asked me to sing a song.

I didn't particularly want to, so I declined.

Her focus turned to others in the room, engaging them in conversation, and then came back to me.

"YOUR FACE! It's so cute, and I like it!"

I laughed, thanked her, and her attention once again wandered to others in the room.

Sixty seconds later, she turned back.

Her face filled with scorn, she said, "Gringa."

And.
                                 Then.
                                                                     She.
                                                                                                  Spit.

Some days, a cute face only gets you so far.

Prepping

Not quite sure when the shift happened, but I've realized that getting ready to go back to NH is taking just as large a step of faith as prepping to come here last year.

Some people are good at saying goodbye.

I'm not one of those people.

At all.

I suck at goodbyes.

I love hard. 

And I hurt hard.

As I look back at this amazing year, while facing forward, this song has been on repeat in my heart.

"You've brought me to the end of myself
and this has been the longest road.
Just when my hallelujah was tired
You gave me a new song.
I'm letting go...
Falling into You."