Tuesday, January 21, 2014

*Burning in the Hills & How did I get here anyway?*

Burning in the Hills            
On the ride from the airport back to my city, I noticed what looked like a procession of people walking up a mountainside with torches. I asked my friend Andrea about it and said, "Is it a forest fire?" She told me that yes, during this dry season the mountains burn! It smelled like sulfur for the rest of the way home.
            This morning I was excited to open my window, hoping it was a cool enough day to do so comfortably. I noticed my windows were significantly more dirty than they were before I left (a lot of dirt accumulates on the windows after a couple months or so, and I haven't washed them since moving in). I also noticed another darker substance on my window sill. It looked like the residue you find when you've over-watered a houseplant and it leaks water and soil onto the surface beneath it. I assumed it had rained hard enough so that water had managed to get through the cracks in my windows.

            After I opened my windows, I saw that I was wrong. The formerly green mountains I had seen from my view were markedly brownish red in most areas, and I watched as large scraps of ash floated through the air, flying deceptively by like butterflies. I quickly realized that the "soil" on my windowsill was in fact ash. Andrea had warned me of this, but I had hoped that I was at an angle which would not receive the ash from the burning mountains. The sulfur smell is here as well, but not so as strong as I feared.

            I feel sorry for the loss of many trees and ferns that have already burned and will burn in the coming months, but at least I know that most of the year the mountains are lush and green, and will be so again come March. 







How did I get here anyway?

            I was just thinking about Jen and Erik, my brother and sister-in-law, feeling a little jealous that they’re going on a cruise to several Caribbean islands which I’ve never seen. How I would love to be on a giant boat again, see the beach every day for a week, and add 5 or more islands to my map of visited countries (many islands are independent and therefore considered countries in their own rite)! Then I thought back on my own experience on a cruise, and how nearly-miraculous it was that I was even able to go, especially at the age of 13. Then I thought about how I got to go to France in high school, and how nearly-miraculous that was as well. Then, finally getting to be here, teaching abroad like I’d dreamed about for years. Even having a wonderful experience as my first full year teaching here. As I was thinking about these things, it slowly dawned on me that God has been fulfilling all of my deepest desires in life, just like the verse I’ve been re-memorizing (Psalm 145:19). I still hold desires of things yet to come, but I am finally beginning to realize that I can trust him to fulfill those desires, as he has fulfilled so many already.

            So what brought me to Venezuela, anyway? Believe it or not, I was only 13 when I first started planning to live abroad. I remember skipping through my backyard, when suddenly I felt God telling me I would be a missionary. I rejoiced at the thought, little knowing how or when it would come to pass. I pursued this calling as I grew up, and even chose education as a major in college because it meant I could work in any country.

            After finishing my degree at Evangel University, in Missouri, I moved back home to Minnesota. My grandma wasn’t doing well, so I was determined to live with her and help her out in her last years. While living there, I worked as a substitute teacher, always looking for full time employment. My grandma passed away last year, and I finished out the year as a math coach.

            I knew the math position would not be a permanent one, so before the end of the year, I attended an international teaching fair in which schools from around the world come to recruit teachers. I felt the time was right to finally step up to the dream I’d harbored for so long: to go abroad. Throughout high school and college, I took classes in Spanish; therefore I looked into teaching in Central or South America. At the international fair in Iowa, I interviewed with schools from Mexico, Puerto Rico, and Venezuela. At the end of the day, I was offered a position from both Mexico and Venezuela. I prayed about it, considered the things I had learned about each country (which wasn’t much!), and made my decision: Venezuela! And so began my adventure to this beautiful land, has quickly rooted itself into my heart as a second home.


If you are interested in international teaching, check out the Iowa international fair for next year:

Or, look into the other international fairs held in a other cities throughout the US and across the globe!

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