Poco A Poco

As you read this, please know everything I share is coming from a heart of peace with these hard realities I am experiencing. Although I have been struggling in lots of ways, I ask that you read this and trust in the fact that despite how hard missions has been already, I still feel called more than ever in my life to be a missionary. I have given this blog much thought and prayer and realized that sometimes what the world needs to hear is not the pretty edited version of our experiences, but what people need to hear are the storms in our souls that are happening as we are living in them. Therefore, I write and share all that I have to say with the peace in my heart and knowledge that joy is coming…and in an abundance.

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“I’m here in Ecuador…It’s been a month, and Lord Jesus please help me to have love for this place.” My prayers lately have been consisting of me asking the Lord to help me even begin to care for this country. It’s interesting how we can have images or expectations in our minds before arriving to our posts. For me, I just assumed that I would be just as excited and in love with Ecuador as I thought I would be before arriving. But then, you get past sorting out your Visas, buying things for your home, and realize that the culture shock is real and now this is your life. At first when I recognized that I hated it here, I broke down in front of my teammates because I felt like a heartless person with no compassion nor any ability to be a great missionary. It seems counterintuitive right? How could a missionary not love going to the ends of the earth and loving the adventure of meeting new people and eating new food? After I shared with my two teammates in tears that I hate this life and have no movement in my heart for this culture, one of them shared in response, “It’s okay that you don’t love it here right now.” Hearing that, I felt freedom in a lot of ways. I felt like I was free of this expectation (which was one I created for myself) to be at a certain place in missions or in my own heart interiorly.

(Our home! That is our front door. Windows to the left look into our kitchen and the building to the right of the door is the church!)

(The most important place in our home, the coffee station)

(Our kitchen)

Our journey of arrival was an adventure in itself. We were welcomed by Teresa, the missionary mom here, in Quito with lots of love and guidance. Unfortunately, we spent close to two weeks in Quito getting our Visa application completed. This was an unexpected hurdle we had to overcome because we all were itching to get to our home and settle in right away. Between the Visa complications and some of us getting really sick, we truthfully hadn’t had the ability to process the fact we just picked up our lives to do missions. Our third week we spent at the Kiehl’s so we could gradually adjust and to prepare/clean our home, which has been a blessing. Even though we constantly would find ourselves hitting various obstacles (I.e. chasing bats out of our home, scrubbing bat poop off our floors and walls for three days, breaking a piece off of our gas tank and running to our neighbor’s for help, trying to communicate in Spanish, having bugs swarm the light above your dinner table and kamikaze into your food every day, or have bugs wake you up at 2 a.m. crawling on you or hoping they don’t sting you, going to the market to buy chicken and the local people making fun of you for wanting the head and feet cut off, etc. etc.), I have witnessed the Lord appear in very visible and physical ways too. (Scrubbing bat poop)

By the end of our third week we had cleaned and scrubbed as many spider webs and bat poop stains away as we could and then decided to move in. Within our first week of living in our home, adjusting to the constant heat and sweat in the night, attempting to cook without much flavor, and dodging bugs at night by hiding under the covers, every day someone would knock on our front door. The first day, one of the grandmother’s in the community felt called to bring us fresh milk and give us a pitcher. The next day our next door neighbor, Magali (a young mother of two young girls), came over to bring us coconuts because she knew they are my favorite. Another day, Louis, another neighbor who knows how to speak English and fixed up most of our house before we arrived, installed kitchen shelves for us, hung up bed nets, bought our doors in our home, and hosted and cooked our welcome dinner. Little by little (poco a poco) I have seen Jesus through our neighbors approach our closed door and knock simply to love us and make us feel at home. Even when it was 7 a.m. and I have been in my pajamas, the Lord has come knocking to serve us through these people. Even in this time where it’s really hard because the reality of me having given up so much to be a missionary is all I can think about and I don’t want to care or let Jesus in, Jesus has gently continued to pursue.

I have been blessed by the Kiehl’s generosity of time and effort to prepare for us, to be intentional, and to do anything and everything to make us feel comfortable. I have been blown away by the people of our town in La Florida who boldly go out of their way to approach us foreigners with our door closed, inviting us to play soccer with them or eat dinner together. Recently, we hosted our first mission trip as a team together and in the midst of the crazy, busy schedule, there were nuggets of beauty I could see were unfolding. We hiked to Mango Playa, an indigenous village of the Kitchwa culture to celebrate Mass with them. This altogether 9 mile hike in the thick of the muddy jungle and heat, allowed me to see how far I can push myself and grow in endurance. Another day a group of us hopped in Father’s truck to celebrate Mass in a very remote community called Santa Rosa. The hike on the way to this community was everything I had imagined the jungle to be, vines tangled everywhere, trees forming a natural arch and shade above the pathway, flowers organically hanging all around you, butterflies of every color guiding your steps, and a river trailing parallel to you the rest of the way. I had received a clear image from the Lord the day of placement in Mexico of me following the feet of Jesus before me, stepping in jungly mud. He told me to look up, and this exact hike we trekked to this community looked like this vision the Lord gave me. When we got to the community and celebrated Mass with them, Father shared to them why we are in Ecuador and they all began applauding. I found myself crying in front of these people that I could tell my heart has been growing in love for.

(Maria on the left, Magali in the middle, and Magali's cousin to the right - our beautiful neighbors in La Florida teaching us how to make impañadas)

(I ate three of these ice cream cones - sorry mom!)

(Celebrating mass)

(Lowkey was freaked out the whole time)

(When Moses, the Kiehl's oldest kid, hands you a jungle worm, chontacurra, and says to eat it and you're like..."heck yeah!" It actually was pretty gross, but Praise the Lord!)

(I put this in my body and I still don't know how to feel about it)

(Canoeing to a community)

(Elijah Kiehl and I's thumbs up before the 9 mile hike to Mango Playa)

(During our work project I had to hold this tarantula)

There really has been so many adventures already that seem almost hard to believe and that are so surreal. On our mission trip we would take canoes to villages across the river. One day, the rain was pouring down and our canoe got stuck in the river on the rocks and we all had to jump out, get drenched with water in our boots, and push the canoe in the right direction back home (I totally felt like I was living in the New Testament as the disciples on the rocky boat with Jesus). Although we didn’t get to reach the community that day, the mission trippers shared their testimonies. The Lord knows what He’s doing. We finished our mission trip by going to Misahuali, a more touristic location about 2 hours away, and hiked to the most beautiful waterfall in the heart of the jungle. Others got to find monkeys at the beach and let them crawl on their arms and shoulders. I cannot deny the beauty and the Lord’s hands here in Ecuador. I also cannot deny the pursuit of the Ecuadorian people here. Even in the girls’ group Teresa leads twice a week (ages 8-10 in one group and 10-16 in another), they come to her house rushing to hug us, tickle us, simply to just be with us.

(More hiking!)

(The way to one of our favorite communities, Munditi)

(In the jungle, families own fincas, or farms, to grow their own products and make a living)

(Helping mash up yucca to make Chicha)

(Helping make chocolate from scratch!)

(The Napo River)

(A monkey!)

(Almost to the waterfall!)

However, I can tell that I am experiencing culture shock deeply and a real sense of suffering from being stripped of so many comforts, especially my identity, and things back in the States currently that I miss. It’s painful sometimes when you have planned a phone call a week in advance and the power goes out in the town or the only exchange of words you have is “Can you hear me?” Anxiety comes over me as I want nothing more than to scream on the top of my lungs out of frustration for having already killed 5 annoying, big stinging bugs before bed. It’s hard seeing parts of myself that I clung to back in the States, like the comfort and enjoyment of flavoring in my food which now I tend to only eat chicken and rice with salt. Or, walking out our front door feeling like the Kellie I knew and was used to (especially my femininity) is slipping away because I wear boy-looking “jungle pants” every day, no makeup and am constantly smelling like sweat all the time. As strange as it sounds, and more so as strange as it is, I’ve realized I have been mourning the loss of the person I was comfortable with before missions. In this way, I can step back and see multiple areas in my own self that I am giving up and handing over to the Lord. I know that the Kellie I was comfortable with before missions is not the Kellie, or the fullest of Kellie, that the Lord desires to use.

My last week in Louisiana a friend of mine and I sat on the back porch of the Big House talking about how I feel like so many things are being taken away from me. She shared with me Ecclesiastes 3:

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace."

She then began to share how sometimes we can get so wrapped up in feeling like all the Lord is doing is taking things from us, stripping us, and making us feel weak and naked. But she asked me to imagine my soul as a garden and that the Lord is walking around the garden of my soul observing all its’ growth, the blooming, and the areas that need trimming. I have begun to recall this imagery. In the midst of feeling completely wiped of any remnants of myself and identity, I envisioned the Lord entering back into that garden in my soul. He sees that there is new life, vegetation, flowers and fruits budding in all different areas at the same time that wasn’t there before. All these things being signs of areas in my soul I know I am currently growing in, yet can’t even begin to name what they are just yet. And as the Lord sees all that is blooming, He is running to each area that is new and guarding these fruits within my heart.

Sometimes, the stripping away of things is just as painful as the birth of new things. Things having to learn to live and grow on their own for the very first time is even painful too as it calls me to trust without regard to understanding of what’s to come from it all. But the Lord is alive here in Ecuador. Poco a poco I see Him every day in the people of Ecuador, the sound of their knocking, the beautiful scenery, and the girls that we serve who know you don’t know Spanish, yet persist in loving you by talking anyway. These are all signs of joy that is to come and be fulfilled in a more profound way. Truthfully, in prayer He hasn’t stopped telling me to wait. To wait for the day, the hour, the minute where I will be so overcome with joy and love for this place that I cannot even contain the laughter.

(Thank you Jesus for the beautiful opportunity to reach over 150+ souls in the jungle and share with them the purpose of Lent and the beautiful Love of the Lord)

(Who's ready to sing Baja al Rio?????!!!!!!!!)

(Bon looking epic as she hiked barefoot in the jungle holding ashes to bring to the people we love)

(Some of the girls from Teresa's girls group we minister to)

(Lord I love You. Take all that I am to use for Your great Mission)

(Ahhhh...the infamous Chicha drink! Chewed up & fermented yucca)

(Bonnie & I tag-teamming the Carnival festivities together)

(Lauren giving a reflection on Ash Wednesday in Spanish)

(Celebrating Ash Wednesday Services to various communities that we hiked to and who blow me away by their expectant faith for more of the Gospel)

(No greater joy than to sing without instruments for all to hear in the name of the Lord!)

(These rosaries were donated from a wonderful parish in the States. Thank you for your generosity - the kids at this community, Munditi, truly were so full of joy)

(Thanks Benedictine for your beautiful joy!)

(Kids from the community Santa Rosa Baja that we frequently visit)

(Our second mission trip, engineering students from Benedictine college, helped on multiple projects in the community)

(In celebration of Fat Tuesday and before Lent, Ecuador celebrates "Carnival," a day full of joy - spraying silly string in each other's hair, smearing dyed corn starch in each other's hair, but mostly preparing the joy to come from Lent & eventually, Easter)

(That kid is too satisfied ahah)

(You go Bonnie!!!)

Please continue to pray for me, the growth and the weeding occurring in myself as I recognize a lot of changing, molding, and transforming that is happening right before my eyes. Pray for these girls we minister to, pray for my team as we are in language school for a month and will constantly be having adjusting and readjusting. Pray for a family in our mission partner community who’s daughter passed away.

Our team prays for you every day, please send me specific intentions if you’d like. I love you! Live in His light!

Dios te bendiga (God bless you),

Kellie