My final reflection paper on the entire experience of Mexico...what a blessing this journey has been.
Em
Em
It’s Only Just Begun
A year and a half ago, I began a journey that would
change my life. I turned in an application to Westmont in Mexico, and embarked
on what would become the most transforming experience in the 20 years God has
given me. I committed to challenge myself beyond the expected. I devoted to
stretch my cultural sensitivity and awareness. I promised to allow God to
eradicate me from my normal territory and plant me in new. I went to Mexico—and
I came back. This is the beauty of the story. Not only is my “WIM” experience
comprised of four months down South, but also it is comprised of this radical
re-entrance into the Orange County, Westmont and overall Californian culture of
which I live. The re-entry itself was not easy, and as I reflect upon the “u
shape” of honeymoon, zona 2 (round 2)
and return to normalcy, I realize that these last four months themselves have
been a whirlwind, and a journey that has grown me and my skill set in and of
itself.
One
of the dearest sacrifices I made upon my return to the Westmont was the loss of
quiet solitude, because in a 17 unit, 3-job, ministry-filled semester, I walked
onto campus ready to lose myself to my commitments. At the beginning, I thought
I was going to be okay, and that magically I’d find time in my schedule to
relax. This, however, never happened—until I learned how to just say no, and
how to make time for myself. Because every day for me became an exhaustive push
from 7:45 wake-up to 1:00 am lights-out, I quickly became overly emotional and
tense. The re-entry to Westmont culture shock did not help. Loneliness,
depression, confusion, doubts—the whole nine yards were commonalities in my
first month back. Often I felt trapped, and did not know where to find freedom.
Thankfully, four months later, and I have finally learned how to de-stress
myself by spending time alone—by myself, completely alone. In Mexico, my alone time was derived through
my hours of walking each day. In America, my alone time often never exists
amidst my go-go-go schedule. So, my
solution? To remove myself from the chaos (Westmont) and to spend one or two
hours in God’s creation (the beach). Nearly twice a week now, I can be found
down at Butterfly or East Beach shifting my toes in the sand or sitting on
rocks, staring out into the shore break, listening to worship music. This time
has become my solitude, my rejuvenation, my safe place to dwell in my thoughts
and to reminisce with God. This practice
has recently become an essence of Sabbath, and is something I plan to implement
into my life ahead. I find that by simply turning off, taking off, and being
still in the creation of our Heavenly Father has been the only thing keeping me
stable the last two months and oh how rewarding it has been. God has spoken
scripture in times of my tears, God has calmed me in times of my frantic
feeling of failure, and God has shown me how to rest once again. In the depths
of zona dos (Re-entry style), my peace
has been restored through the calling to solitude, and to isolation, in the
best possible way.
Making
a home in this US culture has been quite challenging, especially when I feel
displaced from a home that lies 1,804 miles away, at #30 Privada del Sol, San
Javier, Santiago de Querétaro, Mexico. The continuous change from moving back
home over Christmas break, and then into dorm life in January has been much
trickier than I anticipated. I first found myself torn in three ways—between
Tustin, Santa Barbara, and San Javier. This was in itself a shock that I could
not reconcile with because I did not know how to integrate my love for all
three places into one. However, two cohesive elements I have found are in my
friendships with two incredible women in my life--Blair and Laura. My first night home in the US, I called these
two girls crying in a deep pain and agony as my heart broke and I realized I
had left a piece of it in Mexico. Since then, these two women have supported me
on the long road to recovery and to meshing my three homes together. The way they process, ask questions, check up
on me, and love on me, is always a daily blessing. From late night conversations about how to find purpose in our semester,
to cries about broken relationships and friendships, to making guacamole
together, to going out for tacos... these two girls have taught me that it is okay
to hurt, to be confused, and how to be 100% vulnerable no matter the cost. As we have processed together, they have
become the commonality among three places where my heart is broken; they have
visited me in Tustin, they have lived Mexico with me, and they have completed
two years of Westmont with me. With them I can speak Spanglish, sing Evan
Craft songs, and reminisce upon Mexico. With them I can talk about home, miss my parent’s hugs, and reflect upon my love for
Orange County. With them I can go to Potter’s Clay, participate in Spring Sing,
and be an active student at Westmont. These girls know me, and they have become
an asset of my new identity and a reminder of my old. If Mexico had never
happened, neither would these friendships.
Even more, the
beauty of the Westmont in Mexico program is that I did not come away with just
life-long friends or Sabbath practices. I have come away with a new spiritual
gift. The most gracious thing God has given me is the gift of language—to be
able to understand, appreciate and speak the language of Spanish. It was not
until Potter’s Clay, this spring, that I understood fully that God has planted
in me not only a love for learning Spanish, but also an actual ability to
utilize it intentionally. As a VBS leader for two churches in Ensenada, and as
the only Spanish speaker on a team of five, I became a translator and teacher
all within one week. Never had I been so depended upon to mediate and interpret
two cultures and languages and to do so quickly and effectively. Miraculously,
God loosened my nerves and my tongue and gave me words to speak and wisdom to
discern. Through that week, I regained the passion and fervor I felt in Querétaro—the
incandescent love for something so sweet and beautiful: cross-cultural
communication. Throughout this semester, the transition has been made easier
simply by the affirmation and reassurance I have received from weeks like
this. In my Spanish Literature class I
have been affirmed in my academic and writing skills. In new friendships with the Westmont dining common workers, I have been refreshed with quick bursts of daily conversations in
Spanish. In attending an Evan Craft concert and meeting him personally, I have
been encouraged by him to continue pursuing my dreams of working in a Hispanic
environment. Specific incidents and God-designed moments have rejuvenated my
love for Spanish, and allowed me to rejoice in a passion so clearly bestowed as
a result of Mexico.
As
I walk away from a semester of orientation, a semester in Mexico, and now a
semester of re-entry, I truly find myself amazed at how much transformation,
yet more importantly, growth has occurred. Through my time abroad and here in
the US, I have developed a beautiful story with a crafted plot-line affected by
multiple characters, climaxes, conflicts and one resolution: life-change. In my
IS 192 (orientation) paper, I end my semester saying “I am ready to go, ready to interact
with others, and ready to make memories to last a lifetime.” In my IS 193 (Mexican class) paper, I ended my semester saying: “I lived without
borders, una vida sin fronteras, here
in Mexico, and now my heart will be split across borders too, for the better,
and for the rest of my life.” In my IS 197 (re-entry) paper, I have no end, because this
story has only just begun!
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| Serving in Ensenada, Mexico for Potter's Clay |
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