Months ago, in September, I decided to study abroad during the upcoming semester. I signed the papers, made the announcement, bought my flight, then...waited. During this time my fall semester ended smoothly and the holidays passed with family meals, movie nights, and mornings spent reading by the fire. Because of the adjusted timeline of our program, I also had a bonus three weeks at home this January; during this time I nannied, worked as an Administrative Assistant,and Job Shadowed in a nearby school. Together, these opportunities equipped me with new skills, connected me to new community members, and gave me a renewed sense of independence after the usual holiday hibernation. But still, I was waiting for what was ahead, for the 4 months I would spend away from the people I love and in a completely unfamiliar environment. I would not consider myself a generally anxious person, yet during these months my mind fell into a habit of dwelling on all the uncertainty ahead. Well-meaning people would ask, "Are you excited?" and I gave every shade of answer. My mind was stuck treading water in this uncertainty and I couldn't seem to stay above the waves.
Now, after packing my suitcase, navigating the 4 connecting flights, and saying a bittersweet goodbye to friends and family, I am officially living in Granada! It has been, in every way, a "first" week. The first time meeting my host mom, the first time getting lost while walking the cobblestone streets of this new city (and later the first time getting help from some very kind locals), the first time fumbling through a call home on a handful of different social media sites. I have every expectation that there will be more "firsts" during my weeks and months here, but I'm starting to realize that's the point. Call it anxiety, uncertainty, or doubt, but what I was overwhelmingly feeling before coming to Granada was fear. What if native Spanish speakers just roll their eyes at my accent? What if I spend the whole semester homesick? What if I don't make any lasting friendships? These are all valid fears that I continue to face on a daily basis, but above this mental chatter I find myself reflecting on something I heard a few months ago. While traveling last May, I heard a presentation from a woman about a difficult time in her life when she, too, faced a lot of fear and that feeling threatened to drown out any hope. But then she asked herself, "am I going to let fear be stronger than faith?" Her question intrigued me at the time but it resonates with me now more than ever. Am I going to let fear be stronger than faith during my time abroad? Am I going to give my attention to the voice of fear, or am I going to choose to listen to the voice of faith?
The night before leaving the States, a good friend shared some words of encouragement that have stuck with me. After asking the usual questions, she could sense my hesitation and she knew better than to press further. Instead, she shook her head, she smiled, and she said, "It will be revealed to you." During the summer I say the same thing to nagging campers, to the point that I sound like a broken record, but in that moment this expression brought me immense comfort--at last I could catch a breath above the waves. By saying, "it will be revealed to you," she acknowledged the uncertainty that lay ahead, but she affirmed that I have nothing to fear. Rather, I can choose to let faith be stronger than fear and live into this unknown.
a photo from our recent hike in La Alpujarra
look closely and you'll see La Alhambra!
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