The City that Touches the Sky: Stranger

I can't see
What's in front of me
Still I will trust You
Still I will trust You

Steady heart that keeps on going
Steady love that keeps on holding
Lead me on
Steady grace that keeps forgiving
Steady faith that keeps believing
Lead me on.

"Steady Heart" by Steffany Frizzell-Gretzinger

Two journals sit side by side, separated by nothing but two calendar years.

The first has a mug stain on the front cover. A quick brushstroke of pink nail polish grazes just above the faint golden letters that read “God is Good.” The spine has begun to warp on both ends, twisting outwards from the weight of one hundred ink-laden pages. It is a tired, beloved friend. I bought this journal in an empty bookstore just after graduating from college. It chronicles a season of watching and waiting. A season of surrender. The pages practically hum with the voices of kings and missionaries and songwriters and poets.

It isn’t much to look at, but if you asked me to name my most prized possession this would be it.

The second is a leather-bound beauty brought all the way from Florence, Italy. It’s the color of dark chocolate, rich and heavy. A gift from a well-traveled friend, but it feels more like a borrowed item that just slipped out of a novel - not quite mine yet. Underneath its scaly exterior are pages and pages of clean, blank space. Pages that frighten and thrill me at the same time. They hold what is unknown. They hold promise.

My first journal took me on a journey to a place I had never been. It brought me into a life far from home, a life of new languages and cultures and people and experiences. Nothing familiar.

Now this second journal will lead me into the next season of my life. Back to the United States. Back to the familiar. Home-bound. But isn’t this what terrifies me?

“And you promise that I will come back?” the hobbit says to Gandalf.

“No,” the old man replies. “And if you do, you will not be the same.”

This. This is the fear, isn't it? The fear of returning to a familiar place with familiar faces and customs and languages. The fear that everything is the same and yet you are not the same. Not a stranger in a strange land, but a stranger in a familiar land. Disconnected from the flock. Now that is truly alarming.

You see, when you leave home, you are expected to adapt to what is new. You must change and learn and grow. But when you return, you are expected, whether spoken or unspoken, to conform to what has always been. Even to the point of conforming to a version of yourself that you aren’t anymore.

I’ve found that it takes a certain kind of courage to leave what you know. But it takes an entirely different kind to return to what you thought you knew. Because it begs the inevitable question, “Who are my people, and where do I belong?”

It was a stunning July morning in Vermont when the conversation first arose – the one about leaving Bolivia and returning to the United States. I was sitting cross-legged in a wooden Adirondack chair, my Bible spread open on my lap, the morning sunlight from the lake dancing across its pages.

“What are you most afraid of, when you think about returning?”

“Making friends.”

The words spill out in front of me, and I fumble. That’s not what I was planning to say.

“What do you mean?”

I hesitate, trying to figure that out for myself.

“I guess I’m afraid of people not understanding. Not caring about my story, how I’ve changed. Or even worse, people who don’t care about the world. People who are only concerned about what’s going on here in the United States... I just don’t think I can be friends with someone like that.”

Yes, that's it, I think. Who needs those people?

But a voice interrupts with, “And what about their stories, Holly?”

Their stories. The ones who stayed. What’s that supposed to mean?

“How do you expect someone to listen to your story when you haven’t listened to theirs? To change the way people see the world, you’ll have to start where they are. And if we only choose friends who see the way we see, think the way we think, how will any of us be changed for the better?”

And I am undone. Because that, friend, is truth.

Jesus said it best in Luke’s account of his life and ministry.
"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” ~Luke 6:37

I am on a road back home. Or at least, what used to be home. And when I arrive, who knows what the pages of this leather-bound journal will hold? But here are a few things I do know:

I am not the same. Praise be to God.
Everyone has a story. Whether we stayed at home or left.
We need each other’s stories. Connected and knit together.

And above all… no matter where I am, I belong because I am His.

.....

Again, SO many thanks to those who have faithfully followed this journey by reading, responding, praying, and supporting. Although you've just read my story, don't hesitate to send me a message or email and tell me about yours! How has God proven Himself faithful to you lately? What kind of journey are you on? I'd love to hear from you!

Here are some quick photo updates from my most recent Christmas vacation. It is only through the financial support of some incredible, servant-hearted Christ-followers that I am able to spend this sweet time reuniting with family and friends in the States. I am so thankful for the ability to maintain relationships in both of my "homes"!

Airport reunions with a few of my favorite people in the world!

I am immeasurably blessed by some beautiful "heart-sisters." I was able to see several over the holidays. Although I didn't snap a picture with each one, these ladies ground me and give me life.

My sweet California-girl, Steph

A Thanksgiving Painting Party with my "eucharisteo" girls

(Seriously, only Ann can say it just right.)

Beautiful Jess with her precious daughter, Annie

Christmas morning in the new house

Christmas Dinner with Dad

Oh dear. Where do I even begin with this picture? It's embarrassing how much I love these people. They are my whole heart. My cheering section. My family. They have invested so much life and love into the person that I've become. Without them, I wouldn't be on this journey. Period.