Reminders

Almost two years ago, I shared my story with my friends in PSF. I described some of the hurt, physical, mental, and spiritual that I had battled in my first two years of college. The conclusion I drew referred to a friend who was worried that his extreme mission trip experiences apart from his girlfriend would draw a hole in the relationship. I told him that I knew that God doesn’t allow that—not in relationships based in Christ.

This I knew to be true, but I needed to be reminded of my own words. Last week was as if God knew of my memory loss.

Both the Vanderbilt group and I had an eventful week leading up to our reunion. I cannot put into words how much I miss the Presbyterian Fellowship and its leaders. Christ calls us to community. We NEED community. In being called to care for and support others, we are called to need each other—community defined.  

On Thursday, when I was able to finally join the group in Chimaltenango, I couldn’t stop crying. I was overcome with so many emotions positive and otherwise. I find it ironic, looking back, that I finally managed to encounter my PSF family during a visit to an organization of women called Corazón de Mujeres (The Heart of Women). They are a remarkable group of Mayan women intensely affected by the Guatemalan civil war. These women came together to support each other in all aspects of life by developing a weaving cooperative. Together they encourage women’s rights, self-confidence, education, and most importantly community.

Sitting between two of my most important college mentors, Bob and Jennifer, I couldn’t get a grasp on my emotions. (Something I continued to struggle with for the following two days.) As many tears as I have shed in my six and a half months here, these were the most meaningful…and most abundant. I didn’t feel silly crying. I didn’t regret that I was crying. I wasn’t embarrassed. These were tears I NEEDED to share with my community.  I wasn’t crying over a specific situation or a certain emotion. I was crying because I had become overwhelmed with seemingly no release. I often feel that I don’t know where to look for the community I need here in Guatemala. As a result I have tried several times to just shut off my feelings, and shut off my real needs.

 It isn’t EVER possible to handle a struggle on your own. We grow up hearing we are to be reliant on God—that we are never alone, God is with us. And while I believe this to be perfectly true, I think God also says, “Look, I have called you to community—to love one another, so that you can rely on me. You are not alone. I am here. I am with you always. I am in your community.” I needed to cry with my community. I needed them to see everything I have been through. Not just the bad. I needed them to see my excitement, but also my exasperation. We are in this together. This life is ours together. When we separate ourselves or allow others to separate themselves we have ignored a call from God. I find that when I ignore God, emotion, tension, and discomfort build up only to boil over later.

It was such a blessing to talk and to listen to the PSF group. They may not have really understood or known what I was dealing with as I cannot the full extent of their hardships, but it was so good to know that we can support and encourage each other in our stories.

So I believe that the two days I was so blessed to have with my PSF family were not only a gift from God, but a reminder that, yes, Torren, exactly as I concluded two years ago…

PSF has shown me love. I have learned that love fills those holes that we can’t explain. That those experiences in life that are too out there to explain in words, that you just have to experience yourself aren’t separating. It may sound cheesy, but it’s really true—great relationships and great love can fill any hole so far as I am concerned.