Wandering. Waiting. Hoping.

I know.  It's been way too long since I've written.  I will try to do better.  I have thought about writing many times and just don't find the words.  

This season has been a hard one.  And so, I write in the last few hours of the lenten season.  I write about the struggles, the waiting, the wilderness and the hope that I know will come.  I hope that this blog -- while written in the middle of a pandemic, a time when we are unsure of tomorrow, and a time of waiting -- will be one with which you can relate and that will serve to remind us that sometimes while there is wilderness, we must cling to our hope in God.   

My first semester ended well. I was able to have a get together in Atlanta in November for supporters and reflect on the work that God had done while I was in the Dominican, providing me with closure and the time to express my gratitude to some of my supporters.  I still am at awe at all who have walked with me through my time serving abroad. 

Likewise, at the end of the semester, I felt grateful to God for helping me adjust to being a student again.  I earned good grades, made a few friends, and survived my first semester back in the States. 

My first Spanish class (Spanish Grammar and Syntax) that I taught at Gordon College (pictured above) was a success as well! Overall, my first semester was a reminder of God's continued presence in my life and as always, His strength in my weakness.

Probably the biggest highlight of my first semester that helped me adapt back to the U.S. was being a part of the Pierce Fellowship Program, a discipleship / spiritual formation program that teaches us how to care for other Gordon-Conwell students spiritually.  To the left is my Soul Care group, with whom I continue to meet once a week.  





In December, I spent a week in Florida and returned to the Dominican where I was able to give a workshop at Makarios, reflecting what I'd learned about the Old Testament. I spent time with Makariosy friends, surprised my friends in Chichigua, saw Mirqueya, spent an afternoon with the Bible study girls, and enjoyed sunshine and the beach before returning back to snowy Massachussets.  

Returning was hard, not because I was back in the States nor because I was grieving the DR, but because it was like God opened my eyes to all of the brokenness around here that exists.  I started feeling the "American brokenness" that I hadn't felt or been so close to in a long time. I was made aware of some of the injustices that have occurred in this country over the last 6 years.  I was reminded of the brokenness in families, the hurt, hatred and misunderstandings between races, the divisiveness in politics, and my own sinfulness when placed around technology, busy-ness and so much stuff.  I also became highly aware of my brown skin.  (I no longer blend in like in the D.R.) 

I had no bad experiences personally, but I would say that the overwhelming compassion and mercy felt for those who have been experiencing it all, thinking about the broken relationships, all while not yet knowing my place in my church or here at seminary, has been emotionally draining.

In fact, during the first two months of 2020, I said multiple times, "I've entered into a time of wilderness. I'm feeling all of the brokenness around me.  And I don't know what to do with it. I don't have community here yet." I also found myself thinking a lot about the future:  "God, what are you going to do with me after this?  I know that I'm in the right place. But, I don't fit yet.  I'm trying to just take one day at a time, but God, I need your help."   

Waiting.

Various times throughout this semester, my eyes have turned to the experience of the Israelites in the wilderness and their response to their time wandering.  They often responded by doubting, grumbling, wanting to go back to slavery, and with idolatry.  They were impatient and forgetful of God's character, His promises, and what He had done for them before.  I see myself in them.  Even though I personally have experienced God in amazing ways and do believe that what He says in His Word is true, I forget.

Over and over again, I have prayed to trust Him in the wilderness. 

I stumble.

He helps me.

So I keep going. I keep studying.  I keep being intentional with people.  I keep teaching.  I keep praying.  I keep going even though I don't know what the future holds.  My hope is in Him after all, not in the things I don't understand, the people who I don't agree with, the unknown future, the constant change, the grades, nor in the brokenness.  

My hope is in God alone. 

I have no reason to fear the present nor the future -- for God is in control. 

I have no reason to feel alone -- for He is present.  


I am, indeed, grateful.  

God has helped me find a church. Even though I don't have deep community there yet, He has led me to a place that has a mission to reach the North Shore for the Gospel and values discipleship, justice and being a light in this area where less than 3% of people are Christian.  I believe that I will be challenged there and this will be a growing season.

God has sent me a neighbor, Stephanie, who has prayed with me and for me every week, and has been a shoulder to cry on when I feel the heaviness of the brokenness around me.

God has given me 4 professors who love the Lord and are passionate about Greek, Church History, the New Testament and New Testament Exegesis. Classes are hard, but the difficulty has forced me to pray to God for His help and His strength. 


And then, about a month ago, everything changed.  In the midst of an already hard season, it got harder.  

Coronavirus forced me, like everyone else, to take classes (and teach) online.  

More change.

More unknown.

More wilderness.

More brokenness.

More weakness.

Still not knowing how to help.

And I find myself with a choice: to be like the Israelites in the wilderness and doubt God, turn to idols, worry, and complain.  Or, I can turn to God,  face the brokenness, tell Him my pain, ask Him for wisdom, and trust Him to be the same unchanging and faithful God that He has always been.  

After all, I am His daughter who has been justified by faith and who has peace with God through Jesus Christ.  I am His daughter who can rejoice in hope of the glory of God.  I am His daughter who can rejoice in my sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope and hope does not put me to shame.  I am His daughter who believes that God's love has been poured into my heart through the Holy Spirit who has been given to me.

So, on this Easter eve, I pray that you, like me, while feeling the pain in the midst of our situations, may also remember God  loves you, is faithful and is present!  May you trust and find your hope in Him alone.

May God continue to bless all of those who still read this, support my time at Gordon Conwell, and pray for me.