The Real

This is where the real blog post is. 

This is where I don't have to (much of a) filter. 

This is where you go if you want to know my heart and soul, not just the surface and physical.

This is where I share what I've learned. What God has shown me. What I've experienced and how I reacted, and not just what people expect to read about my travels. This is the raw that half of my blog readers don't want to read. 

So thank you, to those of you who proceed past my travel facts. You are loved more than Costa Rica. (And that's a lot.:))

This trip, this three month journey to one of my favorite places on earth, changed me...again. But in such a painful, beautiful way. A way that I never want to undo.

I learned more than I thought possible.

I experienced more emotions than I thought existed.

I never want to have to relearn it.

And this is where it all comes out.

Remember a few months ago when I posted about how cool God was to answer prayer and give me a free flight and I just felt so led to go get certified to teach English NOW instead of in a year or two? (If you missed it, you can read it here.) Before I left I was asking God to prepare my heart and to show me what I needed to know, and I felt like he was saying a few things.

1) I wouldn't get my stuff stolen. I didn't.

2) I wouldn't get raped. I didn't. Thank God.

3) I would meet people to greatly challenge me.

4) I would be 100% convinced of what I do or don't believe when I got home. One way or another.

5) I would experience great healing. Not 100%, but maybe 90%.

And everything I felt like He was saying before I left home, turned out to be true. I can't say that this trip was easy. I regret a lot of things that happened. I'm sad about a lot that happened. The people that challenged me, even though they didn't realize it, a lot of them defeated me. I had moments of feeling like a good-for-nothing failure. I messed up more than ever before in my life. I hurt people. I cried seven billion tears and gained 15 pounds...

But, I also experienced an abundance of grace and forgiveness, and I feel as though I've come so much closer to who I was created to be because of everything.

I feel as though this trip had two completely opposite parts. 

Part one.

Every moment was packed with something. An adventure, a class, a beer, a shot, a dance. It was also filled with anger and intense feelings of failure.

I spent my second month in Costa Rica in a little town near the beach. I went to class every day, and weekends were spent with my classmates on the beach or hiking through the forest. It was paradise. Nothing to worry about, and lots of relaxation whenever we weren't doing homework or teaching classes.

And on weekends, we were also introduced to the Quepos way of partying. I'd already said that there "ain't no party like a Costa Rican party"...and I was sucked in. The lights, the Latin music, and the salsa dancing beach boys. The cerveza and chiliguaro... 

At first, I tried to stay out of it, but somehow, peer pressure from friends, and fear of what they think if I said no got to me. I joined in. It felt off. I told myself that wasn't me. I don't drink. I don't act like that...yet, it continued.

Building off of my feelings of confusion about God, and hatred for myself and existence, I became grateful for the carefree world and nightlife there. I told myself that there was nothing wrong with a drink or two, and there's nothing wrong with dancing. I also told myself that I wouldn't let things get out of control...just a few drinks with friends and a few dances. The thing is, I was hit by reality. I realized that I am terrible at saying no. I am terrible at feeling like I am missing out. I let people push over me - they get what they want...because I can't say no. 

I realized this the first night. And I felt guilt. I felt weak. I felt like a failure. And I decided that it wouldn't happen again. And it did. But I told myself, I am strong enough, I got this...after the third time, I was angry. I was angry at myself, I was angry at alcohol, I was angry at boys...and I was angry at God. And I hurt. The feelings and emotion of the meaningless relationships swirled around inside me. I knew it was a problem, but I only had two options to solve the problem.

 1) Admit I was wrong. Admit what I was doing was wrong. Admit that I didn't want to do it. And then stop doing it by avoiding compromising situations. 

Or

2) Keep doing it. Convince yourself it's all okay. Have more fun. Cover up the past mistake with a new one (but they're not really mistakes.)

After every night out, I would loosely ask God for help and forgiveness, ignoring the fact that forgiveness and repentance go hand in hand. At this point, bits of verses started popping in my head, like bad company corrupts good character, and flee temptation; don't just fight it.

But I didn't care anymore. And I walked away from truth and wisdom. I walked into the welcoming arms of the world, stealing from people I love.

Every few days, I would call my best friend, crying about how I hate myself, hate what I'd done, hate life. But I still couldn't stop. I wouldn't miss out on the fun...

\

Life doesn't deserve details of that month. But by the end, I was broken and numb and angry, all because I continued pursuing actions that I knew I didn't want to be doing - just for the sake of a night of fun. And afterwards, I didn't want to leave, because I knew that I would have to face reality again. Face people I loved. Face God. I was angry at God...hadn't he wanted me to come here? Why would he want me in a place with so much temptation?

The funny thing about life is that the more you walk in one direction, whether good or bad, the easier it gets. Someone told me once that it's like standing in a grassy field, and grass separates you from the world and from God. You make a choice to walk one direction, and knock the grass down, but it pops back up. It's hard to do. But after several times walking in the same direction, the grass stays down, and you make a well worn trail. So much truth.

Part two.

I entered Panama, determined to find myself. Who I really was...and if God cared. To find out of the God I once knew was real, and if there was anything filling, anything really good in life. I was sick of the worldly me. I hate her. I still hate her. 

Every morning I woke up and sat in a hammock. I would write all of my thoughts. Journal. Write the good, the bad, the ugly. I'd listen to music, process, wonder why life was so ugly. And then I would read. I'd read the Bible, and get captivated by God and who He says he is. And I would pray. And I would listen. And I felt peace. Not just, "I'm sitting in a hammock" peace - I did that all the time in Costa Rica, too...but, "It is well with my soul." peace...

That month, I spent time with people who love God. They rest in his promises. They trust him. They seek him. And they spend their time pouring out his love to others. 

I noticed a difference in these people. Instead of searching for a high in a party, instead of drinking for a buzz, instead of having conversations about how pointless life is and how stupid people are...They really were content, full of peace, and joy. Yeah, dude, they complain, they make mistakes, they get tired and cranky and hurt people. But every morning, they too, would get up, read the Bible, and spend time talking to God. Every night, we'd have friends over, play games, and sit and talk. 

And everything started to change. My friend told me, "Girl, there is so much difference in your life when you walk with God, live for him, do what he asks of us, than when you're living for you. You're so much happier."

I had one big ah-ha moment that changed me. I was sitting in the hammock one morning when I had a realization. My identity is in God and who he created me. The last few months, and maybe years, I always said, "Why am I not truly happy? He must not be real. Everything people who hate him and don't believe in him say must be true. God must be sick and twisted, and not want us to have any fun." Yet, I was having so much fun in Panama, a different kind of fun, and not hurting anyone. In Costa Rica, that was the "fun" I was always trying to have, and it left me feeling even more empty and broken. And I realized, at that moment, that I don't have to continuously try to convince myself that I don't believe that God is who he says he is, just to fit in with everyone else who is empty and broken. It's okay to believe what I believe, to believe what really fills me, without trying to justify it to the world. And it's okay to live as God asks us to live, because walking away obviously didn't do me much good...

So. Great. I realized that. But then... I was lonely. I was sad. And I still hurt. Hadn't God promised healing? Everything else I thought he had said had come true, but...no healing, and in my mind that was the most important... So, I booked a flight home.

For the next 24 hours I felt absolutely zero peace. I canceled my flight. The peace came back. He told me, "Stay until I ask you to move. When you leave, it will be hard, but you'll know it's time to go." Great. Stranded in Panama until God gives me permission...

(Side note. How on earth are there so many words in me? :P)

Anyway. So I stayed there, just living with them, loving with them, experiencing life with those Jesus lovers...Studying the Bible, talking about prophecies, and life and love and happiness... And then, healing happened. Like a healing that I've never experienced before.

I went for a walk with a friend, and we sat on the edge of this huge canyon, just talking for awhile, marveling at the absolute awesome power of God. Many times, I'd run to the canyon, sit, pray, listen to music...Just a few nights before, I had been crying my eyes out about my same old hurt (before the trip...CR not included) saying, "I guess it's never going to get better. I'm never going to heal. I have to live with this pain forever..."

And then...it was gone. It wasn't like, in that moment at the canyon I realized that. But a few days later, I realized it didn't hurt anymore. I don't know why. I don't know what happened. But it's gone and it hasn't come back. And I feel complete. And I feel whole again. I feel like I can move forward now. 

I was afraid to go home, but I knew it was time. I didn't want to go back to the place where the confusion grew. I wanted to stay in my comfort, surrounded by such beautiful community and convinced human beings. But, I'll be back...And maybe, just maybe I can somehow spread that love and healing further. No big surprise, when I booked my flight, even though it rang up as $230, I told God, "I'm not accepting that. Please let it go under $200." It took clicking back and forth about five time, but somehow, by doing absolutely nothing different besides praying, the price dropped to $180. I'm not a believer in coincidence.

I sit here and wonder how the trip was so completely split in half. I wish I could say that the fun in the first half was worth it. I can't say that. I feel sick thinking about some of those days. I have memories I want to erase. I let myself fall to a level that I swore I would never be at. I did things I swore I would never do...yet always wondered about. Pride is a thing. I was so quick to judge, yet now I stand with those I condemned. (Proverbs 16:18 Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.) 

Actions have consequences, and I never want to do anything to take me back to that place, mentally, or spiritually.  But the healing has come, and with that, a new determination to live as Christ lived. To love as he loved and walk as he walked. No more living for me, for the moment, especially when my actions create hurt to others...2 Cor 5:17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation: The old has gone, the new has come. 

Lemme live in these lessons.