I've been absent awhile, and I will not apologize for it. Although not all the time was well spent, it was time learned from.

I'm still here in the Mexico City, the capital of my parent's home country. Four months have come and gone, and I am tired, both the good kind and the bad kind.

I can no longer differentiate between Spanish and English in my mind, not that I could much before, but any trace of a line has disappeared. Ill start a prayer in English and flow into Spanish and end with a combination of both. 

Writing feels like home today, and not many things feel like home these days. Thats not because I'm over 2,000 miles away from where my family and friends are, but because I'm longing these days, more than I ever have before, to be where He is.

There might be a disconnect between some of the things that make their way into this post, but I trust the the Holy Spirit will fill the space between my incongruities.


Last night, between tacos and cleaning the kitchen, I heard the call to pray. Its always gentle at first, like a distant rushing river. And with mercy the gentle rush turned into a roar and there was no use ignoring it-- even if i wanted to.

So, I ran, literally ran, to the rooftop. Not knowing where to start, I blurted out, "I'm here", and the conversation flowed from thereon out.

Photo taken by Philippa Goodwin

Then, I got stuck; I hit a wall of sorts. I'd like to think that the Lord brought me to that wall to get past it. And the flow stopped. But as in a river, when the flow stops the pressure builds up behind it.

For a moment I stood there, looked around and held my breath. Then with eyes open, and almost no breathe within me, I crumbled. First, bent over releasing air, then gasping for it, but I just couldn't take in. Then to my knees where the air began to fill my lungs, where my meaning-filled silence echoed all around me and where steamy salty tears darted past my lips.

I got over the wall, or maybe i swam under it, or maybe it went through it, Im not really sure, but I overcame it. And it was only by repentance, sincerity, and mercy which was walled up behind me by way of His presence.

And it was then when the rubble was floating around and the dust was settling that I heard the Lord speak. It was the same voice that had called me to pray, but this time His tone had changed. It was less the voice of a Lover and more of a Father. Concerned, serious, and in a lovingly yet rebuking tone He asked me,


The call to pray is becoming more and more familiar these days. Most times it doesn't need to get to the deafening roar--something about my ears becoming more attuned to it. 

Are your ears attuned to the call? You can only get attuned to something via two ways, discipline and exposure. Come to Him; learn from Him.

I have absolutely been avoiding writing. That in itself is my motivation tonight.

Sometimes, we should do exactly what we avoid. That way we not only tackle the problem, but we wrestle and get messy with the reasons behind the lack of motivation or lack of time time, or, in my case, discover what we have been doing instead of doing what I was putting off.

If I had to pick an adjective to describe the last two weeks of my life, it'd be illuminating.


If I had to pick a noun to describe the last two weeks, it'd be Jesus Christ.


If I had to pick a verb to describe the last two weeks it'd be, make [known].

As a Junior at a major university, the future is always a topic. Recently, mine was a blur with a specks of clarity.

Graduate school? Graduate early? Graduate on time? Don't graduate at all? Live here? Live there?
Job there? Job here? Two jobs? One job? Home? Here? There? Nowhere?


Never have I felt like a true student. Never have I thought myself to be here just for an education. No, I do not think that is why I am here. I'm just passing through, doing the will of the LORD in this season, in this place. I just so happen to be enrolled at this university.

This past semester those questions above tried endlessly to swallow me up. They crashed down every so often whispering lies and telling tall tales. They tried to make me believe that I needed to continue down the path set before me by a curriculum. They flaunted prospective success in my face, and made me think I had no choice.

Because of this, I was in a mental battle with the LORD about my future. I was confused, and that is a understatement. I longed for clarity and revelation. I cried out for direction and guidance.

This is what I found.
No one ever told me that this world would try to make up my mind for me in every way. No one ever told me that society penetrates every single aspect of life if I am not careful. No one told me that the education system, although beneficial to some, can be a hinderance more than a blessing.

There is no blame on your shoulders, not even when you endlessly try to put it there.

There is no misery that is intended to cripple you. Suffering, anguish and heartbreak does come, but only after My consent.

Nothing is designated to hurt you beyond what you can bare.

Rejoice. Accept.

I am for you. I Am for you.
I AM.

Today, I arose with such an urgency, an urgency that was unrelated to the early shift I picked up at work. I tried my best to bustle softly around my apartment, in hopes to preserve my roommates' sleep.  I managed to scour my closet for a decent outfit, only to find that my favorite "dressy" sweater fits about a size too big. The gym should come with a with a warning label saying, "Caution: working out may cause you to spend lots of money on a new wardrobe". I finished getting ready just in time to ponder if I should walk or bike to work; my common sense said bike, but my soul said walk.

I tried to talk myself out of walking, but words or rationale was no weapon to the Lord asking me to walk, asking me to talk a walk with Him.

So, I threw on my columbia fleece and my backpack-- water bottle on one side pocket and tea in the other-- and  I ventured out.

Yesterday, today held so much promise; it always does. Sitting here, in today, I can't say that I am disappointed with what the Lord has brought to me on this Sunday November 13, but in my few waking hours, it somehow felt too overwhelming to bare alone.

This is how yesterday went:
Four a.m. rolled around and this time it was accompanied by someone's fist viscously attacking my front door. As many times before, the noise was first part of my dream, until the pounding became too loud to stay in the haziness of dreams.

A disoriented guy was knocking on the front door for a good 30 min. He was claiming desperately that  he lived there. He innocently shouted that he, "Just wanted to come in". It did not take long for this guy to make his way to my window. He knocked and pleaded with Jason to open the door. I didn't even know a Jason.He was persistently trying into his apt, not knowing that he was at the wrong one.

Three hours later, I not annoyed with him (not that I was then, i was just dazed and confused... who isn't at four a.m?). I am not mad at him for waking me up before my alarm rang. At this point, Im not even appalled that this happened at all.

My body tried its best to lull back to sleep, only to be awoken by a text at 4:40 a.m. reporting that there was a shooting at a Frat across the street from my work-- where I was headed to at 6 a.m.

I think I was supposed to feel fear or frustration, but I didn't. What I felt was hopelessness. I curled into a ball, hugging everything within reach and tightly closed my eyes.

What good is it when your sister is across campus, your parents are 230 miles north and the person who always protects you is ten time zones away? What happens when danger is at your door, and those who you've counted on all your life are absent?

What happens, is that the Lord's voice resounds and in His solemn roar proclaims, Yessenia, I AM here. 
Thats why I can claim without any doubt or regret that being far from loved ones is an ongoing sanctification. It seems that somehow, that I have found favor in the eyes of LORD to be given this gift.

So, Jason's roommate, I hope you finally got into you apartment. Maybe you should learn your apt. number or carry a key with you.

Jason, I commend you for being a good friend if you always let your roommate knock on your window at the crack of dawn.

People at the Frat party across the street, don't count your safety from the bullets as luck. If you were looking for a sign to turn, well take the shooting as that.

It is 830 a.m. and today still holds so much promise. My friend is getting baptized in a few hours--God's sovereignty is all over that.  I have the rest of the day to study for my exam, and the weather is just beautiful. I look out the window from the desk and between the rays of sunlight, I see the yellow police tape and the cop cars. When I go to my email or my phone, the Crime Alert taunts me, and, thats okay. Its okay, because I do not wish to hide from the reality of what is, because I know the Reality of who IS.