Quito, Ecuador

         Everything is different this time.  There was no hunger or desperation.  I didn't need to come here like I needed to go to Uganda.  Honestly, this whole thing started as a "what if" followed by a whole string of "I guess I'll do this just to keep the door open.  No explicit call from God, just jumping through hoops until lo and behold I was boarding my first flight.
        All along the way, I knew my motivations for this program were mixed.  Part of me desired to participate in the program because I wanted/feel led to learn Spanish, so that I might be able to love more.  Another part of me hungered for accomplishment: one more semester could result in another degree.  The last part of me didn't want anything, and that frightened me.  The growing apathy, the disappearance of dreams that had occurred throughout my time in college, has not gone unnoticed.  I hope Ecuador can be a place where I can remember how to dream.  Maybe I can find the part of me  I've sacrificed for the sake of obedience and a commendable GPA.  Maybe I can find my heart here.
        Orientation is over now.  Classes start today.  For the next month or so I'll be taking three hours of spanish every weekday.  After some testing, the program coordinator placed me in the more advanced class, a decision about which I am simultaneously excited and apprehensive.  I crave to be able to speak Spanish, and yet I can't stand feeling inadequate and like I am failing (things I will most likely feel often.)  My class will focus less on grammar and rules, and more on the production of Spanish, namely speaking.  People are funny.  As soon as we get what we want, we start doubting ourselves.
        I just pray that the Lord would use Spanish to teach me humility, discipline, grace, as well as use it to equip me for more ministry.   One of my leaders down here constantly reminds us that our ability or growth with spanish has no reflection on our identity or value as child of Christ.  I'll probably have to return to that encouragement many times throughout the semester, as epic, embarrassing failures seem unavoidable as I try to learn this language.
         Note: I want to learn Spanish because I have seen/felt what happens when somebody speaks your first (or as I prefer to call it your heart) language: you feel at home.  There are so many people in America who are hurting and never feel at home.   If God would use me dedicating a part of my life to learning another's heart language, then any time or effort spent working on it will be worth it!   May the Lord multiply my natural abilities and study skills.