It’s funny how God works, isn’t it?
I mean, he orchestrates things like some cosmic conductor, bringing in the right event at the right time and creating the right heart conditions within us to make an impact. He’s like some sort of giant chess master, setting up some brilliant strategy to bring us deeper into unity with him. Sometimes I find myself thinking: “Great move God; now look where you’ve taken us” only to realize later on: “Wow, you had something enormous in mind.” It’s like I’m merely focusing on killing pawns, whereas he has an all-encompassing strategy. It’s like my view- my capacity- is very limited, whereas his is limitless.

That’s how my walk has been thus far, anyway. Sometimes it’s like Jesus is driving me, pulling me up this disgustingly difficult slope and the sun is beating down on my back; tired and thirsty I cry out: “Why must I endure all this? It’s terrible!” But when we reach the apex, well, it’s breathtaking. My entire concept of reality shifts as I look down from the heights on the landscape below: Jesus is helping me see things clearly.

I went to a four day camp out in Bonao with a youth church from La Vega. I was expecting perhaps a tranquil weekend getaway- a chance to relax and recharge. Well, I think those expectations were blown out of the water when they started constantly blaring the same theme song over and over out of the cafeteria, having rock concerts at one in the morning and blasting our cabins with megaphones and sirens to wake us up at six. It was crazy; we barely slept at all and the days were packed with competitions and activities.

I remember on day one seeing a sign posted in our cabin that read (in Spanish): Smile Please, Jesus Lives. I remember being annoyed by the assertion, and for the life of me I could not smile. I considered how I knew intellectually that Jesus lived; I just didn’t feel it existentially. By Monday, however, things had changed.

I don’t think anyone left that place the same- each testimony was unique, yet unified. They combined beautifully like the threads of a tapestry to colorfully display the new community God had made us into. I felt utterly new and coherent, having received the strongest affirmation of my life that I am loved by Christ and that he will never let me go . During our times of prayer, I heard his voice and felt his touch- gentle and caring, yet blazing with passion- and it brought me into a headspace of inexpressible bliss. I’m not sure how long we spent there, soaking in his presence, but it was heart-rending. I had never encountered such satisfaction; such blessing.

As I lifted my hands in thankfulness and praise, I saw Jesus coming around the corner and into my room- face gleaming with brilliance and with transcendent love. “Look at me,” he cried out, “I have risen!” We met in a powerful embrace and in great laughter, tears streaking down my cheeks. The sense of fullness and intimacy, of acceptance and peace, was incomparable.

I was led to a moment of total surrender; laying my life out before him. When you meet the creator of the universe in a tangible way and find that he loves you beyond your wildest dreams, what else can you do? I let the King take his throne.

So I took a long break and we’re just getting back into the swing of things here. It’s been a long time since my previous entry and a lot has gone down. I feel like God has really been leading me during this entire time; he brought me here and he hasn’t let go of my hand since. Things are dynamic here; Christmas was like an explosion of fake trees and barrio houses adorned by multi-colored lights, with firecrackers going off in the streets and stars popping out in the night sky; a most peculiar mixture which, despite- or perhaps precisely because of- it’s strangeness and mystery, cries aloud with the beautiful announcement of the gospel: the night when Christ burst through the canopy of the world and was born into our reality.

I don’t think I’ve ever really seen a place come as alive as the barrio did during the holidays. I mean, people really just let go of their work, point their loudspeakers out into the streets, pull out the wine and apples and party hard. It was a pretty intense experience for me; it just differs so much from how things were in the community I grew up in. I don’t think we could have ever gotten away with such noise pollution and even if there wasn’t snow on the ground, nobody would open their doors and windows and dance wildly both inside and outside of the house, flicking droplets of sweat off their foreheads, spinning and weaving amid a complex and beautiful movement of joy.

I admit I used to think that Latin music was totally cheesy, but that was before I saw it in action- before I saw dozens of people smiling and laughing and flowing to the beat. I’ve fallen in love with it. I think that’s the trick with entering new cultures: come as a learner, and seek to embrace the magnificence and the newfound truth of the environment, bonding and belonging and growing alongside friends. Whenever Antonio (the father at my house) is bored, he’ll pull out his accordion and start playing Merengue, singing gleefully and without regard, in a sort of blessed self-forgetfulness. I’ve learned to do the same.

With all the fiery force and grandiose of New Years, I feel like things have just wound down, and inevitably so. I don’t know how many more nights I could have gone on caroling until five in the morning, banging on drums and shaking maracas and raising my voice to join the cacophony, shifting blissfully from house to house and waiting until they stuck twenty or fifty peso bills out their Persian windows.

This week has been about remembering all the tasks I left back on the 22^nd of December, that are still waiting for me here. I have loads of stories to write, communication to catch up on, and photo-shoots to organize. Yes, my agenda is very full. But it’s a new year and I’ve got a new schedule and new priorities: foremost, growing to love God with all my heart, soul, strength and mind. I want to be able to say that Jesus is my best friend, and mean it. This, I recognize, is a lifelong journey, but I praise God for how he has already revealed his glory to me and welcomed me into an unimaginably fulfilling relationship with him, all triggered by grace. I didn’t deserve any of this- in fact, that was never the point. Jesus is the point.