Whether you like it or not, time ticks away and either we regress or there is progress. Staying the same is not an option, for there is an incessant battle that raging on for our souls.
People inspire us to change, either by their example or by their advice. Circumstances change us, either willingly or by force and God's mercy is in both. But, we are changed nonetheless, all orchestrated by God who passionately knows us, actively protects us, and continually defends us.
Somewhere in the last 8 months the path I traveled on diverged. Some would say they saw it coming, its a natural process, change, and being in a country for 8 months is a breeding ground for change. I saw it coming, but I guess I thought rooted meant stagnancy; not spiritual stagnancy, but personal stagnancy. 

When the fork in the road came into focus, I breathed in a lung full of polluted air, breathed it out--in a long sigh that I am know for-- , and scared out of my mind, but assured to my core, that the Lord passionately knows me, actively protects me, and continually defends me, I stepped unto the more intimidating of the two paths.

And what I am finding, learning, pondering, and experiencing on what sometimes still is frightening a path is what I plan on blogging about for the next few posts.




Forever changed, perspective permanently altered, & with love,

Sometimes we fight & claw our way to a place where we can say "yes" to God, not because we know we should say "yes" but because our very bones desire it.

And sometimes, after a long time of "yeses", He changes the question, and we say "yes" again. 

But we don't choose "yes" because its easy, because its not, its gut wrenchingly difficult to say "yes" to God and it takes insurmountable courage to continue choosing "yes". And it takes courage because He requires every piece of our being--everything that we unknowingly hold unto.

And so, I like to say that we always have a choice. As true blood bought children of God we have two choices, choose what is "good" or choose what is "best".

So, the reason we say yes again, is because it is what is best for us. We say "yes" because we have been awakened to the beauty that we find in Jesus when we choose "yes". the faithfulness He shows, even in the messiness of it all,  is even more difficult to bypass-- once you have fully experienced it.

And we learn the Lord has used the "yeses" that our hearts have spoken and graciously He has changed the very eyes through which we see things.

And the Lord is good, that's why He changes the question, BUT our answer should never change.

Will you say "yes"? Yes, to the invitation from our Savior. Yes, to what He is requiring of you. Yes, to what He wants you to leave behind.

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.

This is the paradox that is my life. It is where I have learned that when two extremes collide within me, nothing but beauty bursts forth.

I am running with all my strength unto the Lord, and at the same time He and I are walking hand in hand at a constant pace. I am living and walking in sweet communion with Him, and at that very moment, I am gasping for breath as I arrive at His feet.
A familiar combination of emotions constantly overwhelms my senses. Tears well up and spill over leaving a trail, and its not sadness, but it is, and its not joy, but it is. Joy and sadness confined in one body is difficult to understand, and it is a dense emotion to carry. Most of all, it demands to be felt.
Feeling joy and sorrow simultaneously is redemptive. I fail to put to words why that is so. Maybe it is because the joy is un-moveable, and the sorrow is valid. Maybe when two opposite truths stare each other in the face redemption oozes out. Maybe when sorrow trickles down from our King--the Man of Sorrows into the well of my Joy that is in Him, I am changed.

And maybe when the Lord looks down, He doesn't labyrinth of paradoxes that I need to straighten out. Maybe He sees beautifully intertwined truths, realities, emotions, and events. Maybe I am meant to feel everything all at once, or maybe I am supposed to sort it out and let Him redeem me through it. Maybe He means to teach me how to live hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. (2 Cor. 4:8). Maybe the paradoxes reveal more truth about God's greatness than they reveal about my inability to avoid contradiction.

Now I know that when paradoxes inconvenience me, I still have more to learn.

Mexico is a developing country.

It has a tumultuous past, an uncertain present, and an unknown future.

And here, just like everywhere else, everyone has a story--if you take the time to listen.

When I think about the story that the Lord has given me, I am grateful for it. All of it, the drugs that tore my family apart for a fews years, the unhealthy friendships, and the twisted thinking. I am grateful for the rocky path that lead me to the Cross where, like a child, I wept before the Lord dirty and broken.

Its been fours years since I first laid before the feet of the Lord. Since then, every moment has been a journey. Logistically, there has been a high school graduation, a college move, a first apartment, a graduation, a move back home, a cancer diagnosis, and a temporary 8 month move to Mexico City --where I find myself now. Inwardly, in the last four years, it seems as though my emotions were tossed into a prism and burst forth as inexplicable joy, unending gratitude, searing pain, fierce anger, and tears, lots and lots of tears.

The grip of the Father is visible on the clay of my being. My molding is taking shape and you can make out what it is that I was purposed to be. The deep grooves of shame, self-pity, pride, and fear are almost smoothed out, and I can hold Living water within me, like I was created to do.

And I am thankful, but I am tempted to stay there at thankful.

But it doesn't end there.
If you ask the Mexican population they will tell you that the past has formed them above everything else. That is why Mexican tradition is king over innovation, is king of the family, and is king over religion. That is a problem, but its not just a problem here it is a problem everywhere.*

I am like that sometimes. I hold past experiences and past ideas as king over my future. The past becomes a crutch, and I hobble around. Things that the Lord has done impede me from sprinting through the streets, and being alive. That is a problem. That is a big problem.

What the Lord did in the past is something I should thank Him for, yes, I agree. At that time, He did exactly what He meant to do, at exactly at the time He wanted to do so. He may do those things again, but He may do them in a different manner, through different vessels, with different venues.


Jesus does the unexpected. He came as no one thought He would come, a humble servant. He healed on the Sabbath, ate with sinners and tax collectors, and changed the whole liturgy of the Passover. As a people, the Israelites were stuck on their past. They needed a savior for power, not redemption

But He came to change things. His life and death forever changed how I stand before the Father. His life and death included me, a gentile, into His promises.

There is so much more to Him than I know. He is far greater and far better than I can imagine. I want more. I need more. In order to get more, taste more, know Him more, love Him more, the crutch of what has happened has to become the wind beneath my sails which propels me to run ahead unto what is to come-- however it may come, and whenever it may come.

Most of the stories I have heard here are most captivating because they are not done yet. Your story is not finished either. I think it is about time we all stopped acting like they are.



*I am not hating on traditions but when they are held higher than other things it impedes growth, life, and progress.

Im convinced that the best way to guard your heart is to not settle. I don't say this in only regard to romantic love. No, I mean don't settle in anything or for anything. Believe me, I am preaching this to myself.

Don't settle for a life that wasn't meant to be yours. Don't let fear rule you. Don't let it start to whisper the dangers of becoming. The process and the end result are unknown, uncharted, and undiscovered, but only because you've sat on the sidelines for most of your life. The fear is there, I get it, and its big, I know, but its an illegitimate fear in comparison to He who is on your side.

I have this prayer that I always pray for myself and for those I love. It goes a little like this,

There are many topics that crowd the list of things I want to write about. I have thoughts about today being my last day of summer, tomorrow being the unofficial start to my last semester as an undergrad. My sister and I now share a room; I could go on forever about how its a great but terrible idea at the same time. Plus, feelings about this weekend run rampant through my mind, both good, bad and in between. All of the above permeated by thoughts about Jesus and how He works, and what He says.

So, this is a letter to myself. A trail of consecutive phrases marked by punctuation written to myself as I sit here in my living room with LOST on in the background, cramps in my abdomen, and left over custard in my freezer.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Me,

Ahh tomorrow begins the shuffling of papers, the late night phone calls, the endless emails, and the jingle of quarters as they tumble down parking meters. Oh, and thats just work. Two weeks from now will begin the luxurious strolls to class, the mindless scrolling through powerpoints, the learning through diffusion (ha), and the fight to stay awake at 2:30pm when your eye lids are just too heavy.

In each of those moments, keep your head up and shoulders squared. For three years God's grace has kept you untainted in the midst of a mainstream, Big Ten University. You have been preserved, but not unchanged. That is the most important thing to remember. Don't only remember what He has kept you from, but also what He has not kept from you. During these three years, the tears were not kept from you, the pain was not kept from you, the joy was not kept from you, and His power was not kept from you. Welcome this last semester as another opportunity to be impacted, and a chance to influence those who surround you.

Ahhh this weekend, a plenitude of inspiration and beauty overshadowed by periods of discouragement. Remember that even though your words may have come-off lofty the LORD can still use them. The moment words disperse into the air, He has the power to redeem them for His glory. Remember that even Jesus was un-welcomed in His hometown. Remember that even though you have fallen even after knowing the Truth, His blood still covers that. Most importantly, remember you cannot change hearts. You cannot will people into believing.

That covers the periods of discouragement. Now, to the periods of beauty. How diligently God seeks you. He places people around you and places you around people. He accomplishes His work of bringing glory to Himself without your help.

He brings His loved ones to Himself in contrasting ways. Each person He brings differently. By His design, all with pain, sorrow, heartbreak--only because we are too stubborn to see Him otherwise-- but the differences lie in the individuality He gave us. I cannot pretend that He pursues His children in the same fashion. He takes into account how we mourn, how we rejoice, how we love, how we speak, how we dream, and He love us in those places and call us to Himself with intricacy and intimacy. There is so much beauty in that, I can't even put it into words-- that alone is comforting.

I know you'll read this again one day and I want you to know that even beforehand you knew that the next five months will be a roller coaster, and thats okay. In the chaos, find peace in Christ. Even when you read this, don't settle for anything. You may not have someone telling you this, but you are a powerful woman of God. The LORD endlessly roars that truth over you. So, don't sell yourself short by taking the easy way to anything.

I rambled now, and you probably still ramble then. That also is okay.

Sincerely,
A younger you.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, I write this to my 17 year old self:

Yessenia,

You think your parents are the ones who need transformation. While that may be true, they are not the only ones who need it, you need it, your life depends on it.

Sorry to break it to you, but you are not able to whisper and your reasoning will make not sense to others, just like your family. You will become like your mother in that your faithfulness to those whom you love will bring a bittersweet, but rewarding pain, and your humor will be sprinkled with some of your dad's wittiness.

There will come a time where fighting with your parents, will for the most part, cease. There will come a time where you will view your family with a new set of eyes, but first...

My mother is the strongest woman I know. All of my life, until now, I had mistakenly dismissed my mother's strength for a weakness. To me, her courage was stupidity, and the humbleness that effortlessly flowed from her, I denoted a weakness.

Society screamed lies at me of what a women was, what defined her, what was demanded from her, what she lacked, and what she could offer. What defined her was her social status. What was demanded from her was ruthlessness. What she lacked was mercy. What she could offer was her body. As a wayward child, I soaked it all in. I drank deep of it to the point that I choked, only to regurgitate it back to those who challenged it. The one Godly person I knew, my mother, became a picture of what not to be, much-less become.

The moment the LORD came into my life, He challenged all I knew to be true. That is what He does, and He does it so graciously. Even though He challenged the definition of a woman that the world spewed at me, I held on to it for a little while longer. For about a year, I continued to let society and relationships define what a woman was.  

Then, two years ago, a tired and weary teenager set out with God on a journey to find out what a woman really is. I can show you the tear stained place in my journal that spells out that request.

These past two years have been a form of detox for me. Detox, not because society's lies are that deep or because the redeeming power of Jesus is weak, but because a part of me perceived that the lies were easier to abide by than the truths. I was the product of the lies. THAT was the hard part; I lacked courage.

"Take heart", was what my Savior said, and there began a painful, wonderful, enlightening, soul stirring adventure that I am still in the midst of.

I dove deep into scripture holding fast to every single mention of a woman. I read, reread, and read agin the stories of Sarah, Rahab, Ruth, Mary, and the servant women of the New Testament looking for every angle of applicability and truth. I prayed for the LORD to allow me the privilege to meet REAL women. Authentic women, women not untainted by society, but women victorious in Christ. An unfathomable yearning began to permeate I all did; I ached to be the women He foresaw me to be when He formed me in my mother's womb. 

He took my prayers and unrolled the answers before me. The stories of woman from the Bible have become a comfort to my soul. They remind me that perfection is not what God looks for; instead, He looks for a willing heart and an obedient spirit.

Since then, I have met my mother for who she really is, a woman of God. I am able to fellowship with her and see her like the LORD sees her. I have also had the opportunity to meet other women who have suffered long and rejoiced much in the LORD. I have been blessed to meet some women via the beauty that is technology and others in person.
*pictures at the end

That ache that was born two years ago-- to become a woman after His heart-- has only gotten stronger and deeper. The difference is that now I know that in CHRIST I am that woman who He designed me to be. He sees me as His own. He sees me as beautiful.

He has also gone beyond my prayers, as He tends to do (Ephesians 3:20) and has given me people who speak invaluable truths into my life. Through them, He reminds me that I am precious. He gives them eyes to see me as He does.

Still more, one of the most treasured gifts I have gained is a courageous heart. A heart protected and lead by Christ. Courage is attribute of a true woman.


To this day, if you look around me you will find very few woman of God in my immediate surroundings, but I am not alone. Though very few woman surround me, that is also a blessing. It is a privilege to delve into prayer, a privilege to develop my God-given passions, a privilege to take my definition straight from the sweet and mighty lips of my God, and a privilege to long for my Savior to say well done.

We were not made for here. 

I want to cling to that, white knuckles, blisters, scabs and all.

This is not our home.

Take a minute and soak that in. Let it trickle deep into your very being; the same being that so often longs after the temporary.

We are pilgrims.

Its so pregnant with implications, so full of challenges, so packed with hope, and so saturated with freedom.

We were not created for a place like this.

It is a constant battle of the flesh and the Spirit. When life gets too comfortable and the troubles stay at bay, this is the hardest to believe. And in the content stillness of this life, there somehow remains a never ceasing notion that there is more... a more that is unparalleled to the now.

So, if even in the midst of comfortableness lies a deep angst for the place that NOT here, then I will give it its due respect. Everyday is a gift. A gift of aching.

When yearning occurs to its truest sense, it sparks something within us that makes us servants as we wait. It makes us the people that the LORD designed us to be because we not only yearn to be with Him, but we desire to please Him meanwhile.


It makes the reward that much more valuable. The promise of our Father becomes more magnificent when nothing else compares, when nothing else alleviates the burning to meet Him.

My longing is for the day where my soul will be at home in the arms of the Father, gazing upon the face of the Maker, singing praises at the footstool of His throne; for our home is not home without our LORD.