The first two weeks after receiving the happy news that I had been accepted to the Kokua Crew were difficult for me.
Because the truth was, I wasn't excited about going.
I should've been. I mean, I was going to Hawaii for three months! Who wouldn't be excited?!
Everyone I spoke to was excited for me. They asked me if I was excited and I told them "yes" because it was partly true. So many people congratulated me and shared well wishes on my going and encouragement for my time there.
But I struggled to feel their excitement for me.
Because for me, it was bittersweet. More bitter than sweet. And it was terrifying to me.
I fell asleep one night while writing my thoughts and my feelings, and the emotions flowing through my mind and heart in those two weeks is captured beautifully in this raw and unfinished expression:
"Life. What an odd journey this thing is called Life. How strange it is. This gift, this cycle, that the Lord has given each of us for our time here on this earth.
I've been introspective lately. Maybe that's what happens when you're entering a transition season.
Transition. How strange it is too to realize that I'm entering a season of transition. Of moving from one place to another and building a new life even if only for three months.
The truth is, that word scares me. Transition. The truth is, I'm afraid of moving to Hawaii. That's why, when so many people around me are telling me that it'll be like a vacation, begging me to take them with me, reminding me of what a paradise Hawaii is, sometimes I stay solemn and silent. Because it's very easy to say that until you're the one moving away alone from everything and everyone you know.
While I'm in Hawaii, life will almost come to a stop for me. I'll be busy serving, I'll be in a gorgeous new place, I'll be meeting new people and making new friends.
But life won't stop here at home just because I'm not here. And that realization struck me with full force last weekend. While I'm gone, life here at home will continue rushing on as speedily as ever. And I wonder how much I'll miss.
I'm going to be different when I come home after those three months. I know that. But life here at home will be different too. My niece is going to change so much and learn so many new things while I'm gone. My sister's house will probably look different. What milestones will my friends cross that I won't be here to be a part of? Will they make new friends while I'm gone? Maybe begin seeing someone special? What family outings will I not be included in? What places will my parents go that I'm not with them? Another teacher will be teaching my preschool class at church. Another employee will be filling my responsibilities at work. It will be the new normal for my parents, having my bedroom empty.
Right now, I have so many people supporting me. Congratulating me. Making me promise to share pictures. Praying for me. Telling me that I'll be missed.
My family and my closest girlfriends will always miss me and think of me and pray for me. I know that. But what about the others? I ask myself.
I know how it goes. There's so much support and enthusiasm in sending off a person to a new place to serve the Lord. Prayers are lifted up on their behalf daily. Encouragement is sent often for the first few weeks. Then it slowly begins to wane. Your name becomes lower on the prayer list. The messages of encouragement become less frequent and more scattered. Your absence becomes still noticed on occasion, but your presence no longer leaves an ache of missing. Enthusiasm fades- it's your passion, not theirs- and life goes on as normal with its usual routine and usual tasks day in and day out.
For all but the person who left.
I don't want to be that person. I'm terribly afraid of being that person. I'm afraid of being forgotten. I don't want to be forgotten.
I think of transition. Transition of when I come home again. I don't know what scares me more: moving to Hawaii or coming back. Life will have changed and continued without me. How does anyone leave everything he knows for months at a time and return, slipping right back in among his old friends, his family, his old home, his old church. You can't.
Thinking of coming home again after being gone makes me feel lonely. Lonely and misplaced and lost and left out. It makes me question where I'll fit any more. And I don't like that feeling. Where will I belong?
A year and a half ago, January of last year, I thought I could imagine what those feelings felt like. What emotions you experience. Now I know that I had no idea. And maybe unless you've moved to Hawaii and come home, you can't know. I'm not sure."
This was reality.
This is what was on my heart. I cried in those first weeks. I felt so alone and I feared being misplaced and lonely. I feared the unknown of going to a strange place.
And that's when October 1st, the Lord spoke to my heart.
It was late at night. I was lying in bed alone in the darkness of my bedroom, staying up until one or two o'clock in the morning because I was scheduled to work a short later shift at my job the next day. I was blogging when the thought came to my mind to search YouTube for any videos about the Kokua Crew or about YWAM Kona.
To my delight, I found a few videos. One of which was a campus tour video a DTS (Discipleship Training School) student had made several years ago and another video made showing how one group of DTS students had spent their free weekends in Kona.
And as I watched those videos, something came over me. A feeling of peace. Of familiarity. Of belonging.
Of excitement.
I was taken back to two and a half years ago. To the summer, fall, and winter of 2013. Back to when the Lord first turned my attention to Hawaii and drew my heart to that place. From the very beginning that May 8th, 2013, I had longed to go there myself. It had felt familiar. My heart belonged there.
And somewhere in the process of that becoming a reality- of becoming so distracted by work and by the busyness of my life and by my finances and by focusing so much on the fear and anxiety- I had forgotten those feelings that I had once felt.
Those videos reminded me. The Lord brought me back to that moment in time when I knew that I needed to go to Hawaii. He reawakened that excitement and fervent passion that had become buried until it burned again so brilliantly in my heart. Until I fell in love again with the calling He was drawing me to.
Because what was I so afraid of? I'm not going to a strange place, He reminded me. I'm going home.
Georgia will always be my childhood home, the place where I grew up. It's the place where my family is. It'll always be the answer to the question of where I'm from. But for the past two and a half years, it hasn't been home to my heart. My heart has been in Hawaii.
Much like two people can fall in love through an exchange of letters, learning about each other before ever meeting, so I've fallen in love with this place as I've learned about it. And now I'm finally going to meet it. I'm going to finally see it with my own eyes. I'm going to finally experience it for myself with all of my senses.
Georgia will always hold a piece of my heart. But I don't belong here anymore. It isn't where I belong. It isn't where I'm meant to be right now. My heart calls home that group of islands far off in the Pacific Ocean. Hawaii is my home now.
I'm going to be working full-time, forty hours a week, Monday through Friday, sure. But even in the midst of serving, I'll be with the Lord. Basically, I'm going on a three-month retreat of spending time with Jesus in one of the most beautiful places on the face of the earth. I'm going to a place where so many people only dream of going and would give so much to see for themselves.
And for me, my heart's gone before me. This is not a strange place I go to. This is Hawaii. My Hawaii. This is Home.
My Home.
I'm going home.
What am I so afraid of? Where the Lord leads me, I will follow. Where He stays, I will stay. I have nothing to fear.
He knew the plans He has for my life before I was even conceived. None of this has taken Him by surprise. While I was still in my mother's womb, He looked at me and said "This one's going to Hawaii." That blows my mind.
I'm so excited to meet the new friends He has for me over there. I'm so excited to serve the people He has for me to serve there. I'm so excited to sit at the Banyan Tree cafe and write letters and blog posts for my family and friends back home. I'm excited to linger in the 24/7 prayer room in my free time, my own personal IHOP (International House of Prayer- my special place here at home). I'm excited to find my own new special places there to get away for quiet time and prayer. I'm excited to learn the new things He has planned for me to learn and to grow in the ways He plans to grow me. And I'm so excited to stand at the edge of the ocean and be overwhelmed time again by His magnificence and the depth of His love.
(And I'm excited to leave behind this cold Georgia winter weather! ;) )
I'm excited to discover why of all of the places in this big wide world we live in, He's called me to the little state of Hawaii, United States of America.
And why in the world me.
A petite, Puerto Rican-Caucasian, twenty-one-year-old young woman who has never been anywhere outside of the mainland USA.
Why me?
And why now?
I'm excited to find out.
"Pray then like this: 'Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.'" Matthew 6:9&10
"For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them." Psalm 139:13-16