pretty lives

There are times being here in Guatemala where I really wanna be home. I am really missing fall and all the lovely things that come with it.

I’m missing being with my brothers.

I’m missing my sister and her constant and understanding presence.

I’m missing coming home to my friends in the evenings.

but most of all I miss my pretty little life.

Back home, I am a fancy English major who reads Vogue behind her textbooks. I dress like a European (because, after all, I’ve been there) and flirt like an American. I am waaaaayyy too cool for worship music and can read in French. And heaven forbid if I haven’t updated my instagram today.

Funny how those things disappear when you move to Central America. I can’t even fake it. No cute quotes from the Bible and pictures of little kids. I don’t know who I am here. I’m certainly not living my pinterest worthy life.

the biggest question in my heart is:

This isn’t my life

I feel like all of my life is back home.

my dreams, my heart, my family and then, on top of that, everything that makes me…me.. has disappeared. I can no longer find myself in  the things I love to do, or who people say I am, or what I choose to post on instagram.

Its a safety I never realized I had before I left. But when I think about it I not only controlled what people thought of me, I was in control of who I thought I was. Here in a foreign country, all of myself found in certain places back home is taken away and I’m forced to realize who I actually am. It’s kinda a hard to thing to learn. One’s real self is rarely what they want it to be.

I feel like being here in Guatemala is simply a break from my real life, which is much prettier.

But I also have discovered that my pretty life back home..is built on sand. If I were back home…I would be spending my time building my life on how fun my life is. And somehow, when you’re overseas, who I am in Christ, is so much more important.

I don’t really like being forced to build my life upon the rock. It means a lot of deep sacrifices that I wasn’t really prepared to make. BUT

I have had my pretty life shattered. Only to build it on the sand again. And have it shattered. So if I can’t find stability inside my pretty life…maybe I should try finding it somewhere else. Maybe Christ? Does he know where to find a deeper life than the one on my instagram? And how much am I gambling to put my life in the hands of Christ? A lot? Who knows.

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I’ll take that risk.

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