There is a point in each passing moment of joy where my eyes overflow with unspoken love. Tears blur the world around me as I feel a distinct pressure in my chest where bounding laughter pushes at the scarred walls of my heart, making room for happiness I never thought I deserved. In the past few months, my soul has found its way from the suffocating darkness of despair to the humbling honor of undeserved grace and second chances. I now find solace in the collective burden of this life, knowing that I hold the knowledge of an immortal message in a dismally mortal world.
I still feel a distinct sting of pain when I partially transport myself to the state of my life at the beginning of my internship with Mission Adelante. I had resigned myself to the suffocating chains of discontent, deception, and my own weakness. I allowed the lies of the world to infiltrate my very being, disguising the truth and the light. I simply lost my way. I was entrenched in the shadows of my past and my ever-tortuous present. I had no way forward and no way back…
I have very few words to explain the impact of my time at Mission Adelante because when I pause to think, I am overwhelmed by an indistinguishable wave of emotion. I am powerless to fight the tide or make sense of everything washing over me. I do know one thing for certain, however; it is no coincidence that Mission Adelante means Mission “Go Forth.” My time there opened the path to God’s plan in my life and gave me the courage to forge onward. I was taught to lay down the burden of my mistakes and instead, find a place for the lessons learned in my next few steps. And now, instead of guilt and regret, I have the honor of forever carrying in my heart the love of the darling children who saved my life.
An African mama once shared in a few words the wisdom of a lifetime with my father: “I have seen many men die pregnant with great dreams,” she warned. “Don’t be one of them.” I realized I do not have to stand by and watch while innocent lives crumbled under the rule of poverty, prejudice, and pain. I should not feel guilty that the hand of fate provided me the privilege of education or a stable family; but if I fail to use that privilege to make even a small, dusty, forgotten corner of the world a brighter place then, and only then, do I have something to feel truly guilty about. Nothing but society tells me that I should content myself with what I have been given and settle into the routine of Suburbia. Nothing but the bitter ghosts of my past tell me that instead of soaring among the stars I should lay myself on the cold ground with my eyes on the sky, forever waiting for someone, something, to lift me up. I realize that no longer can I hold parts of my heart for myself; it belongs, and will forever belong, to the collective soul of this world. It is the people across the nations, now holding its pieces, who lead me.
