Here We Are But Straying Pilgrims

I was looking through some blog drafts tonight and found this one from Costa Rica that I never published for some reason. It's reminded me of some things I needed to remember so I thought that I would share it with y'all unedited. Pura vida!

It's a Friday night here in Costa Rica. Almost 10:30 and I'm sitting alone in my room reflecting on the past eight weeks. What an incredibly blessed journey it's been! (Since the last post I've spent a week working with children living in poverty, visited the beautiful beach of Malpais on the Pacific side, met some lovely ticas, worshiped with the brethren I've grown to love, been violently sick puking my guts out with a "bacterial intestinal infection", and fallen more and more in love with Costa Rica and my wonderful tica madre...but you can hear more about that in a later post.) I have learned so much here, grown so much here, been humbled so much here. The Lord has taught me of hospitality, simplicity, brotherly love, sympathy, selflessness, servitude, and so much more through the beautiful, funny, sweet, and thoughtful people of Costa Rica. I've learned how much more I still need to learn. I've learned how much more I still need to grow. And I've learned that there is much work for me to accomplish to become the woman He would have me to be. I could write pages and pages over hospitality, simplicity, brotherly love, etc...but I think one of the most poignant lessons I've learned thus far, the lesson that has been the hardest, that continues to be hard, is that of being different. Peculiar. Foreign. A pilgrim.

I have embraced the Costa Rican culture and am absolutely in love with it.
Smiles and "holas". Kisses and hugs. Food and laughter. Taxis and buses. Children and sweet older people.
Such is the fabric of my life.
And I love it.
The culture is beautiful, warm, and respectful.
Kissing others on the cheek is natural now, and I love doing it.
I can navigate the bus system.
Give directions to the taxi driver with ease.
Find my way around downtown Heredia.
And communicate easily with the sweet people who surround me.
Yet still, I'm different.
A foreigner.
Una extranjera.

People stare at me everywhere I go.
Everywhere.
All the time.
And after eight weeks,
I'm still not used to it.

Before coming to Costa Rica I thought that I might be able to blend in a little.
"Brown hair is pretty common, right?"
I was very wrong.
Surrounded by a sea of beautiful Latinos,
These blue eyes and white skin make me stick out a mile away.
"Una gringa."
And the stares continue.

Guys hang out their windows while driving by to stare longer at me.
Children turn around in their seats on the bus to look at me.
Cat-calls, whistles, "hey pretty lady", and the like happen all too frequently.
And it's uncomfortable.

The reality is,
I hate being different.

I've never enjoyed being different from others.
To be the center of attention holds no glimmer for me.
Giving public speeches or even speaking up in a classroom of my peers has never been particularly enjoyable.
I'd much rather blend in,
Listen and learn,
Be quietly helping and learning out of sight.
But coming to Costa Rica,
I've felt like a spotlight has almost always been illumined on me,
Shining on me in every instance
And every location.

Yet as much as I hate being different and wish there was some possible way not to stick out as much, being so incredibly different has been one of the most positive experiences of my time in Costa Rica. God has taught me so many lessons through this experience. About how this world is not my home. About how I should be a "peculiar" person. About how God's word demands that we stand out from the world around us. No matter where we are, be it Costa Rica or Texas, people should see a difference in us. We should stick out. We need to be different. There is no other option for a true servant of the Lord.

Ms. Stewart and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

It all started with a broken coffee maker. A five a.m. premonition of what the rest of the caffeine-less, sleep-deprived day would bring. I wanted to cry while standing dejectedly in front of my coffee-less coffee maker, coffee cup in hand, longing for its dulcet drops of caffeine magic. Alas, my longing availed naught. And I stumbled away in a state of tired-like zombieness. Watch out world.

After my morning struggles, while driving to school, I got stuck behind the train. Which of course was traveling about 3 mph. Thankfully, I arrived at school just in the nick of time. It's nice to have at least some thankful moments in the day.

The morning progressed through a series of events that left me wondering if I should become a teacher and if I really have what it takes to teach a class of my own. I won't go into specifics. Suffice it to say that my students almost left me in tears and I left feeling slightly like a failure and incapable of becoming the inspiring and loving teacher that I so long to be. 

Is this what it feels like to be a teacher? Constantly trying to be inspiring and effective while doubting that you're actually doing any good? If so, I'm definitely apprehensive about the future. 

Nevertheless, this is the month of thanksgiving, and I'm working on cultivating more of an attitude of thankfulness and joy in my life. Below are lists of the bright moments in the day. Moments for which I am incredibly thankful.

Thankfulness:

- One student telling me that I am "sooo pretty."

- A funny little first grader asking me the question of, "why are you so small?" 

- Seeing one student have a "light-bulb moment" and knowing that I helped him attain it.

- Finishing the Old Testament in my Bible reading plan.

- My two minutes of peace during my prayer at lunch.

- Welcoming a student back to the class after he had been out for a week because of illness and seeing how genuinely happy he was to be there.

- Good conversations with another senior methods student at my school.

- Being done with the bilingual generalist exam.

- Two weeks till Thanksgiving break.

- My sweet Ryan and the fact that I get to see him in four days!!! 

Yes, I am blessed.
Maybe my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day isn't so awful after all.

"But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall." - Malachi 4:2

If I Could Change the World

Some days I hear stories that break my heart.
I want to change the world.
But this world is so big,
And I am so small.

I hear of children without mothers,
Children who are hungry,
Children who have been set up for failure,
Children without anyone to tell them that they can succeed,
That they can learn,
That they can achieve great things.

And when I am invested in their lives it feels like my heart is breaking because there is so little that I can do.
I am so weak.
But I serve a God who is greater than my limitations.

For a little bit of time, I am here to love them -
To pray for them, to be a light in their lives.

For a short time I can love them so much it hurts.
For a short time I can serve them.
For a short time I can pray for them.
And when I am no longer in their lives,
I can trust that God will provide;
That God will continue to love them with a love greater than any that mankind has known.

My job is be faithful in the work God has given me to do in this short time I have.
I can't change the world.
But if God will allow that I be used to help even one child,
It will be enough.