Getting back slowly

My blogging is a bit cramped right now because I’m not sure where my laptop is. Hmm…that’s not so good. Getting adjusted to the U.S. has been difficult. A huge part of my heart isn’t in Philly right now. Not at all. I still love the neighborhood and the people, but it just doesn’t seem the same. My heart is searching right now, and I’m not sure how that’s going to go. Not exactly the best time to contemplate buying a house here. I’m definitely trying to find some clarity on that issue. I went for an ass-kicking of a run tonight in the dark up at Cobbs Creek Park. Man, I love running at night and it was my hardest run in months. Something about challenging my burning lungs and legs that brings me clarity and perspective on God, love and life.

I’m standing on an interesting precipice right now with little clue as to where things will go. I can’t tell you how many times a day, I open my cell phone to remind myself to, “Not look anxiously about you, I am your God, I will strengthen you, I will help you.” My heart was excited to see Guatemala and the U.S. play a world cup qualifier. It would have been so sweet to stay there and watch it. If only the hurricane had kept me there.

My senior year of college I wasn’t sure where I wanted to do Mission Year. I was pretty sure I wanted to go to Atlanta or Philly and when the Falcons met the Eagles in the NFC championship, I joked that I would move to whichever city won. I’m still in Philly and I guess after the soccer match, that means I’m going to be in the States at least for a bit longer. Guatemala played pretty dirty, especially Carlos Ruiz and that dude who sized up Brian McBride and tore his face off. That cost them the game, at least. I will be sending my friends a menacing letter, or as menacing as mi lengua permitira en Espanol. Watching the Guatemalan team play so juacali took some of the edge off my nostalgic longing to be in the land of the Quetzal. There was a part of me that was ready to move to Guatemala had the U.S. lost. I don’t want to run from things, but sometimes a fresh start is what you need.

Yesterday, I went to the Green Line with Tyree to grab some coffee and sugarless scones. We read for a while before walking over to Clark Park. I talked to my parents for a bit and I’ve been asking friends and family for prayer about buying a house. It’s kind of like I have this part of me that wants to buy a house and settle here in Philly and there’s another huge part of me that says, quit your job, move to Guatemala and be a part of what’s going on there. My dad was surprisingly encouraging and I’m not seriously thinking about Guatemala, but I am definitely questioning living here and working here. I sure don’t know what God’s doing with me, but I’m seeking to be empty, seems like I’m pretty empty. Who knows.

We met someone at the airport in Guatemala who was divorced three years ago after a thirty year marriage. She started to visit Guatemala for mission’s trips. Long story short, she met a Guatemalan doctor and now they’re dating and she seems pretty confident they are going to be married shortly, assuming that it’s God’s will. I know I’m sure quick to judge other people for things I’m certainly more than capable of doing and have done many times already. People are quick to decide that things they want to happen are God’s will and they just assume that it’s supposed to happen and they start to run with things. It made me a touch uncomfortable and to me the whole situation didn’t seem to be right. Maybe it’s just that I hate the thought of divorce and feel like God hates it so much and that people can work through things. I know that’s not really the point and that it sure as Hell is not my job to judge people, especially when I’m guilty of doing the same thing. It’s hard to be patient and not co-opt God’s will and mold it into our image and desire. That’s a safe recipe for pain and hardship. I read a good story relating to that in “Theirs is the Kingdom” today.

Buying a house, seems like the safe bet, I already question my job sometimes and whether I’m just a poverty manager. Buying a house would seem like selling out in some capacity, even though it’s in a low income neighborhood. It would really tie me down. I told ACHIEVEability’s realtor, who is a nun, that mortgage is a scarier m-word to me than marriage. I sure struggle with money and finances sometimes. On the flight home from Miami, I was talking to someone returning from Bolivia on a mission’s trip about savings and retirement accounts, hoarding, and trusting in God. No one has ever convinced me that savings and retirement accounts are any different than the dude from Jesus’ parable that built an extra grain silo to store his stuff and his life was demanded of him that very night. Any thoughts? I feel like I’m not being any different than the world and that freaks me out. Moving to a distant country might bring some short term relief, but it wouldn’t address the deeper heart issues.

It’s cool to see neighbors, kids, coworkers and community leaders excited to see me back here. It makes me feel good to be here. Deep down, I suppose I feel like I’m where I need to be. I’m trying to be faithful to make sure and not try to do the things that my flesh wants to do, but what God would have of me.