the art of growing up
It's crazy how almost all of this is over, how soon we're going to be going back to our own families and our own separate lives, spread out across the United States. how this can only last for so long. how there's already another DTS back at the base, who have already replaced us and are about to go on the adventure of a lifetime that I already went through. I'll be able to see them until they leave for outreach, being that I'll be staying there for volunteering. it's still so weird.
I was looking back at peoples lives from back where I live, and it's so strange how people change so fast when you're not watching. when you're not looking, in-between the cracks, when you've forgotten about them for a short little eternity and then you think, "wait, I wonder what this person is up to" and it turns out they've been leading and living a life you never would've dreamed or thought up yourself for them. it's beautiful and sad how people go their own ways, grow, slowly into adulthood. I'm all the way on the other side of the globe, while everyone is starting their young adult lives. and I'm starting mine, the crisis, the identity-journey, here in Spain.. it really makes you think about how your specific environment influences you.
I can only imagine what it'll be like when I return there--the long walk along the fence I used to cry on and lay down on my knees in that very field of grass, the dorm rooms, the hangout rooms, the dark long road leading to that god-forsaken prayer chapel. the life I'll return to for three months until I know what I'm doing with it. the life i'll live to learn more about others and the people around me and more about God, and myself, and how they correlate and intertwine until you can't see the line or where it meets or ends. until it all, as a whole, becomes a blur. smiling faces, starting conversations, whether it be in person or on the phone, working 24/7 and constantly letting all that excess information tumble from your mouth.
our rest day today, anyway, was quiet. some people stayed in the church purely for rest reasons, while the rest of us shopped and explored more of Torremolinos. I showed my friends how to use chopsticks, we tipped a pretty waitress at a sushi restaurant, and we walked through the streets observing all the small dogs and pigeons (I tried so hard not to stop and gawk at every single one). it's funny how there's so many people in Spain, all over the world, who dress and act a certain way and have their own specific attitude and style, and then here I am, in-between. I guess that in-between stage is always going to be weird, especially when you have to act like an adult (both in situation where people will and won't let you), and you're still trying to become sure of yourself. It was nice, however, to take the day to do nothing church-related and just rest and take a breather, notice your surroundings, and recharge for another busy day tomorrow. sleeping in felt like a fever dream, and I can only imagine what it'll feel like after all of this. I'm still trying to stick to just reading, drawing, no electronics, but it's becoming more and more difficult with each and every day that passes. I just really have to stick to it and remind myself of why I'm doing it, and then I'll be okay. for the discovery of the world, God, and myself. for the ability to see with my own eyes, and not through someone else's, shoved right in front of my face. through lenses that are my own. it'll be okay. I can make it. tomorrow is another women's Bible study, and one of the girl students is going to share her testimony. I hope it goes well, and that I can interact with others smoothly. the language barrier is beautiful too but it also sucks. it helps when you just want to observe, and then pray and then observe again.
10/24/23 11:43 PM
Today was our women's group, and I figured out I'm going to have to speak and share my testimony in front of the church soon, which I'm not looking forward to but I'm trying not to think about it too much. that one girl shared hers and she did really really well, and afterwards we prayed over the women who wanted prayer. I sat down with a lady and prayed with her, and she said as soon as I prayed for her, regardless of the language, she could feel the Holy Spirit speaking to her and revealing things to her. I'm so glad, all I want is for Him to use me and speak to others through me, and I'm so happy it's finally happening.
other than that, we took a small little rest after cleaning the church and watched The Chosen on the church projector and ate grocery store gelato. I ended up outside at one point, just to get away, and I'm usually a people person but when I'm panicking I need a place to panic on my own. the people are so nice here, I don't deserve them. it's hard to accept comfort and help when you're not used to it.
I was outside, listening to music, and the cat with the funky tail that lives somewhere in the neighborhood came out on the roof. I was listening to a song that I used to listen to when I was back at home. after summer, after I fell. (I totally forgot I'm sharing a room with 13 other people and now I'm suddenly aware of myself again. anyways.) the lights were dim and the cat was there but she wouldn't let me touch her, she'd run up to me really fast and then watch me sit and pray from a distance in silence. I really like that cat. I watched her run back down the alleyway, down the lights that string the roof, and back into the dark nothingness that leads to some other house somewhere in the neighborhood. it's so funny to think that so many black cats have crossed our paths since we've been here, even though it's just a false little fake story thingy that no one actually believes.
It's just weird to think about supporting yourself, especially when you're on your own. when you're separated, fending for yourself, when you're realizing life and the suffocating air around you. it's beautiful to be in this life, and that really is why it's only one day at a time. tommororow will take care of itself, and the day after that, and the day after that. I don't want me crying to be normal. I don't want me complaining to be normal. i can't let myself slip, no matter what people say. some things are just never right.
I was remembering the library and the bookstore back in North Carolina, and I guess those are the only things I really miss, other than my dog. it's so funny how they both involve books, how books were such a huge and important part of my life, and now it takes me so much concentration and so much time just to read two pages from a book whose author I absolutely adore. things change, times change, and I can't let anything rock my mindset. can't let anything change me. like the tide changes, I change, but I don't change with it. there's an unexplainable feeling happening right now that I can't explain, but all I know is that I need to pray more and find out why my neck is aching so much. goodnight and goodnight :)
10/26/23 12:10 AM
Well, the fnaf movie is coming out tomorrow, and it's also Sylvia Plath's birthday, if that's any consolence. I couldn't tell you most of what happened today except for the fact that I'm full of food and of fellowship (that was the corniest thing I've ever written in my whole entire life).
Life isn't good, but I'm making it to be. piece by inexplicably small piece. things are getting easier and easier, and my brain is connecting more and more as things happen. the devil wants to get me but my mind is saying no. no, no, no and more peace. peace to beat the storm. love that drives out fear. love so when those unidentified thoughts come, I can think back to whether this comes from the flesh, the devil, or from God. who or where this comes from and then if it causes fear or love. and then if it's fear, to remember it's from the devil and from the flesh, and to remind myself what the love is; what the truth is.
I have to write my sermon soon and the nervousness is building on me. I'm supposed to share my testimony in a whole different church, with an experienced pastor and a bigger audience. I don't even know what I'm going to speak about, or what part of my life I'm going to share. hopefully, whatever it is, it'll speak to people, and people will be able to see me through the story and see Jesus even further. as far as I know it's about the prodigal son, but jemima will share more of it with me tomorrow.
talking to people and finally opening up about myself and my life is really making me think differently. how many people I can go to, and how many people actually care. how people are people everywhere, no matter the country or language. again and again, people grow, and I'm growing with them. I'm discovering and learning and becoming more of myself and I need to continue WWJD-ing. But it's okay. the outside air is nice, and even though I'm suffering through the boredom once I break through the miserable space I'll be able to reach the light. and it'll be so so beautiful. I just know it, I slipped past the veil but I know I can break through it again.
it's amazing how you can have a full conversation with a spanish person without using google translate. a whole lot of hand movements and gestures are involved, but once you get past that it's like speaking in a mysterious new language, that involves sign language and slow pronunciation and pointing at objects and pictures. how you can look into someone's eyes and see the joy that is there, the same joy you recognize in your own from being able to connect with someone in such a unique and exciting way. language is powerful, especially when we make it up ourselves.
I'm making a vow to read and draw and walk and listen to music and write from now on if I'm feeling a certain way.
10/26/23 10:53 AM
I feel like I slowly need to accept myself, especially who I'm becoming. For some reason, I keep thinking back to the Barnes & Noble back in North Carolina, and all the trips I went there and browsed all the books. that was my safe haven, I think. my place of homeliness, of comfort. where peace resides.
I still remember the feeling from when I first began, back about the time I wrote in "the art of traveling alone". It was such a weird and dream-like time, especially now that it was so long ago (or at least it feels like it). Getting on a plane by myself, the last time I sleep on the floor at my home, to travel somewhere far far away with only myself as comfort. there's a weird feeling of being somewhere by yourself, of having only yourself, no travel buddy or anything. you rest but you become aware, and you never close your eyes. you do things to make sure you're healthy and don't pass out, because if you do there's no one who will help you or save you. so you make sure you buy something to eat, drink a jug of orange juice for vitamin c reasons (I don't even know if that was necessary but still) and make sure you've been drinking water and using the bathroom. it's a lot to think about when you're aware of it, yet I don't even think about it now while traveling with all these people. it's weird how times change like that. how they shake, become different. Sylvia plath is teaching me so many things.
Testimony for church - 10:31 PM
Testimony
Hi, I’m Amanda, and I’m with the missionaries from YWAM salem, oregon. I’m so glad to be here and I’m also nervous out of my mind. You know that feeling when you’re handed a microphone and you’re scared you’re accidentally gonna say something wrong? That’s me right now. So if I mess up or say something wrong, then it’s the microphone, not me. Also, I have everything I’m going to say on my phone, so if I’m looking at my phone a lot I’m just checking what I have to say next.
As my totally wonderful friend vitoria was talking about the parable of the lost son, (great job by the way vitoria), I’m going to be talking about some of my testimony, and how I was that lost son. I was practically the embodiment of that one guy in Jesus’s parable, except I’m a girl, and I’m not on my hands and knees eating pig food. But I might as well be, because that’s what it felt like.
Starting out, God gave me my own special gifts, just like how the Father gave his son his share of the estate in the beginning of the parable. My earthly father tried to prevent those gifts from happening by proposing an abortion to my mother. An abortion to the tiny little fetus that was me. But, thanks to my mother’s smart intellect, and by God’s grace, I came out of the womb a healthy, somewhat normal baby. I say somewhat because I definitely don’t think of myself as normal.
Growing up, I used those gifts and began to discover them. Mostly, my love for drawing, writing and reading began to appear more and more evident over time, especially as I learned to pick up a pen and paper. I barely knew it, but sin was beginning to enter my life in the smallest ways, making me think about the world, and later on, what the world would have to offer me, rather than what God has to offer me. soon enough, making me doubt if God was even real himself.
I never doubted God when I was younger, in fact, I never even thought about it. I was planted in a christian lifestyle and a christian household where God was God and there was no question about it. Where God created me, and He loved me so much, he sent his son to die for me, so that my sins would be forgiven. Where God resided in basically everything. The thing is though, when you’re still super young, too young to know the guilt of sin, you don’t know if what you’re acting out is a sin until someone tells you. That’s why discipline is a thing. What I was feeling at the age of 5, however, felt too natural to be a sin. It felt too real. And so, one day during kindergarten, I was lead by my feelings to do something with a girl that I didn’t understand. Something I didn’t understand the extent of, all my heart knew is that it never felt that way with a boy.
And so a seed was planted in my heart, in my subconscious, and from that day on it grew. It grew, and as the years went by, I started to notice it in everything: the way I was acting, interacting, and seeing girls. Until I was able to label it, give the feeling a name, I just thought it was normal. A part of me. And then I learned what it was, what it meant, and that it was a huge no-no in God’s book. And I was mortified, I was crushed. How could something that feels so natural be a sin, be cruel in God’s eyes?
So, as time went on, I met my father for the first time when I was about 14. It was a little Starbucks somewhere in New York that I could not tell you if I tried, but I remember in that Starbucks my world got completely turned upside down on its head. My expectations on a father that could make up for the emptiness in my own heart were so great, and what he could actually give me was so little, not even. That night I cried like I’ve never cried before, and luckily, my cousin was there to comfort me. He’s so great, shoutout to my cousin. But from that moment on, I really started to question more of God, and his character. Did God just like to laugh at me, see me in pain? Does he only like to put restrictions on me, watching from far away, breaking my world piece by piece as time goes on?
So then I gave in to the hurt, into the pain. The seed sprouted and grew. I ran away from God, and then back again, and then even further from Him, and the disappointment of not feeling Him there when I needed him grew. I began to indulge myself in homosexuality, and things that just felt normal to me. My parents found out, and I ended up indulging in self-harm and smoking as a result. I was on and off with contacting my dad, because he’d lead me on and try to convince me he loved me, and then drop a huge bomb on me, taking all that love away. I didn’t know how to deal with that manipulation so I just kept stumbling into it, pretending that it didn’t affect me, but it did. As the years went on, I felt less and less loved, and suicide was on the forefront of my mind with bright blinking lights. Brought into church sermons, youth camps, and women’s events, nothing worked. I felt my only hope was to start a relationship with a boy, in order to convince myself that I was normal and that I could feel things the right way.
I tried to force the feeling of belonging, but it didn’t work. I did everything I could, everything he wanted me to, but I didn’t feel any love. I left that relationship feeling used, empty, and confused. At that point, I was like the lost son, covered neck-deep in pig food from the feeding trough. My family was ultimately disappointed in me. My heart was ultimately crushed from being exposed at the wrong time in the wrong way. And I was ultimately, as a whole, broken. I didn’t know what to do with myself, and at that point, I didn’t even know what it meant to be loved.
I’ll be honest, I never had one specific coming-to-God moment, because everything was so on and off with me. But I do remember one night where I cried out to God, ready to end my life if He didn’t answer. My heart was desperate to hear in that moment, and He answered. It wasn’t in a big vision, and not in an audible voice, but I could finally feel his love and comfort from inside me, wrapping me like a blanket. His Holy Spirit, the spirit of comfort. It’s little moments like those that remind me that He’s still there, that He hasn’t left me alone, and that He does still care. Regardless of what the world still says, or what people say, or what situations happen. Whether I’m on my knees crying out for help to Him in church, in the comfort of my room, or even in a different country, He still finds a way to answer. I know He will. And no matter how far away I run, He will alwasy call me back, and always lead me, because that’s the kind of God he is. I’m not saying that’s an excuse to run away on purpose, but for the sole reason that we are humans and we’re not going to walk a perfect path. We are going to do things and think things and have doubts, and that’s all a part of the daily walk. But God still walks with us, through our imperfections and our lowest moments. It’s hard to see it in the moment, but after you step out into the light, you will see that he always was there, and he’s always willing to welcome you back home. In his mind, you never went too far from his reach in the first place. So, I’d just like to pray over everyone right now, especially the people that aren’t feeling God at the moment.
(Prayer & ending)
I feel like I've finally connected with everyone here. connections are so beautiful, so intimate. seeing people for who they truly are: living, breathing humans who each have individual lives just as important as the rest of ours. just as crucial, just as precious. knowing we're all going to separate paths once again, once we leave spain and they stay here, continuing our different lives in different countries, us in the states and them in the land of real food and miniature dogs. I've enjoyed this, and with just a week left, I want to soak in all that spain has left for me. I also really want to go to Rome, I still haven't forgotten how close we are to Italy and it's been making me so desperate to just hop on a train and take a day's trip over there. I'll make it to Rome, one day. I'll see all it has to offer, and its beautiful sights and art and architecture. I promise I'll make it there.
10:15 PM
I feel like today was good and bad. I didn't lose my mind trying to preach in front of a million old people, at least. and even though part of my prophecy was the whole "helping lots of people" and going to places I've never seen and speaking things I've never heard, I feel like this wasn't it. this couldn't have been it. because if this was it, and I ruined it, then God's words are returning to Him void. and they never would do that. He promises His words won't return without being completed, and I believe it. this was just a minor fluke on my part.
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