Bittersweet Reality

When I left I was thoroughly stressing. What did I just get myself into? Why am I even doing this? I learned to love the states again, why am I leaving now? 

A flood of insecurity bombarded my mind in swift and frequent blows, floating to the cadence of my mental uncertainty. I had yet to express transition in sobs and reflection up until then, but knew that moment had arrived. I couldn’t find solitude in a buzzing international port ironically called MIA (Miami Airport). Missing in action was the status I so badly wanted to discover. 

Touting a busy eight month old pup, I slipped into the pet relief room - smelly? Yes, secluded? Also yes - my only option at that point. Hot tears stung my freckled cheeks as I contemplated this move. A seeming alternate universe appears when in deep thought and emotion, and I felt like time ebbed to a halt. Having a moment to breathe, breakdown, breathe, breakdown again, settled my restless mind. 

I cleaned my face, put on a smile, and remembered that this move was good. Not like that-icecream-tastes-good “good”, but a deep-sense-of-peace-and-thankfulness “good” sunk deep into my heart. This was right. Peru is right. God is always right. 

Aboard flight number two with dad snoozing next to me, another rush of contemplation thwarted my attempt to catch some Z’s. I thought I had this settled. This is a good thing. Why can’t I grasp that? Just as frenzied thoughts clamored for my attention, worship music blasting in my headphones drowned out the fear, in the goodness of my God. My soul could rest.

First breath of Lima air and my lungs were filled with sweet purpose. The previous frenzy of second-guessing had dissipated and lost all clout. This was right. Peru is right. God is always right.