Spring Break 2018

Yesterday I arrived home from my second visit to the Autonomous City of Buenos Aires, Argentina. This trip only lasted eight days in total—which is only a fraction of the time spent the first go around in the summer of 2016, but man, did we hit the ground running. Our team had an incredibly busy week, squeezing in every possible opportunity while in the city. I believe I said it about the last visit, but I will repeat it: the days were long, but the week seemed to have flown by. I would gladly have remained a few more weeks, and I believe most of the team would agree. It was wonderful—so much so, that it is hard to try to encapsulate it into a few paragraphs. Pero, voy a intentarlo.

The first thing I should note, and maybe the one of the most impactful parts of the week for me, was that I had the chance to return to this beloved city with the same young woman I served alongside the first time. Lindsay acted as commander and chief of this trip, taking a team of eight other students (plus me) to BA for a spring break mission trip. I do not think I could’ve asked for a better team. Together, Lindsay and I were able to compile our knowledge of the city, the culture, the people, the missionaries, etc. to help guide the team throughout the week. I think it took us both a little while to actually wrap our minds around the fact that we were back. We lived on the same street, ate at the same cafes, and reunited with many of the same friends as the previous visit. It is still blowing my mind that God gave me the opportunity to return and, on top of that, to do it with the only person with whom I shared all of the experiences of the first time. One thing that was strange for me in the beginning was that we were part of a team. We were not the independent pair as before, but had eight other people added to this duo (none of whom I knew prior to departing from the Memphis airport). But wow. Each of the students was phenomenal, and the team, as a whole, meshed quite unlike any other I have been a part of. Six guys. Four girls. Three street teams. Five translators (hahahahaha….). One solid group. For some, this was their first mission trip. Some had never been out of the country before. Each came prepared to share about how God had worked in their lives, and through each of them, the people of BA were able to hear about Jesus Christ. I could spend the whole blog writing about the team, but I will press on.

What did we do on this trip? Great question. We did a lot of different things this past week. Stephen (a leader on the team and Lindsay’s FIANCÉ!) described our team as a spearhead, and I like that imagery, so I will run with it. I believe the main purpose of our trip was to break ground in areas in which the missionaries hope to cultivate in the near future. We were the pioneers. The explorers. The tip of the spear. There were two main ways in which we acted as such. The first was with universities in BA. There are approximately 40 universities just in the capital city of BA. In 2013, the census reported that there are around 91,000 college students attending these public and private schools, and I can only presume that that number has increased since then. The university students make up a pretty considerable portion of the city’s population, and as of this moment, have very little connection with the local church. Our team was able to go into two universities to explore the campus and talk to students about their studies, BA life, and their faith. Everyone we came into contact with was friendly and open, and many spoke English (gracias a Dios!) which enabled our pairs to go into deeper discussion. Most of the students we chatted with did not have a personal relationship with Jesus—some were unconvinced of the existence of a God based on the seeming lack of physical evidence, many labeled themselves as Catholic yet did not practice their religion, and others had not given much thought to Him. In almost each situation, our team’s pairs were able to share their testimony of God’s activity in their lives with the students who would listen. My partner, Brodie, and I were able to pray with/for almost every students who we sat down with.

The other way in which we acted as a spearhead was in mapping the comuna of Recoleta. This is one of the nicer parts of the city; it has between 150,000-200,000 inhabitants and one evangelical church. Our team was able to divide and conquer, prayer-walking the roads of Recoleta and getting a feel for this part of town. We were trying to discover what types of people/stores/things make up this comuna, and how people could be better praying and ministering to the people living and working there.
We walked a lot. :)

Alongside these two new things, our team was able to visit existing house churches in the city, leading them in devotions and sharing our stories with the local believers. It was quite encouraging for us to see people on fire for the Lord. I always enjoy worshiping in another language because it reminds me that there is no barrier too great to prevent people from having relationship with the same Almighty God and with fellow believers. Lindsay and I had actually visited one of the same house churches last time, and it was pretty amazing to see how God had continued to work through and bless this group. Several had come to know Christ and been baptized since our last visit, and we could tell the difference that Christ had made in their lives. A group of us was introduced to the sister of one of the newer believers; she did not believe in Christ but did not seem entirely closed to the idea. She had a young child who had been recently hospitalized due to high fever and a blood clot, so my street team was able to go visit her and her son in the hospital. We got to share about God’s love, pray for her and her son, and give her a Bible. Although she did not accept Jesus in that moment, we believe God is faithful and will continue to work in her life. Our whole team visited another hospital later in the week in order to care for some sick and elderly. We got the chance to feed some people who were unable to do so themselves, and we also got to pray over them.

One last thing we were able to do while in BA was to eat ice cream. Every single day. No joke! There is a small ice cream place near our apartment that I got pretty familiar with on my last visit, and so we had to take the team. I think together we probably tried every flavor they had. But beyond the simple joy of filling our stomachs with sugary goodness, we were also able to build a relationship with the guys who worked there. On our last night in BA, a couple guys on our team began a conversation with them about the Gospel. They ended up using their work break to sit down and talk with us for over an hour about their beliefs. They were very cordial and kind, listening to all we had to say and answering every question we threw their way. At one point, one of our guys asked what they believed their purpose in life was; this took both by surprise. Each paused and considered that question, not knowing how to respond. They said they had never thought about that before. Neither of the young men made a life change that night, but we could tell that they had begun to think.

Overall, this trip was a lot about planting seeds. We were not given the opportunity to lead anyone into saving faith in Jesus, but we were able to put the idea of something (or Someone) greater into their hearts and minds. We were able to pray for many people, beseeching the Lord to intervene in their lives and turn their hearts towards Him. I think each of the team members was stretched on this trip. I know sharing the Gospel is difficult for me. What words to use, how to transition, when to speak up and when to shut up. God showed me a lot of grace this week. He also gave me a partner who was very passionate about sharing the Good News with others. Like a “Hi, nice to meet you, do you know about Jesus?” passionate. It was a little humbling for me. It pushed me to be more intentional about my words and to understand what true love means.

If you have made it this far, I applaud you. I know it’s a lot, but much of this is written for myself so that I can look back and remember what God has done. But I also hope that it is encouraging for you. We serve a great God, who loves us, cares for us, who is present, and in control. He moves in His perfect timing, and asks us to trust in Him. I pray I can be obedient in that.

If you have read any of my earlier posts, you might know how this city has impacted my life, and just how grateful I am to have had the opportunity to return one more time. Thank you for your prayers and support. Until next time.


Other random things I feel I should include:
- We never got lost. Not one time. (The one time in La Boca did not count). Just another example of how God’s grace and mercy was made evident to me.
- Our team really enjoyed the besos. Kisses hello, kisses goodbye. I think it’s something we should adopt into our culture.
- I went the entire week without drinking matte! Astounding. I’m not sure whether I should feel ashamed or impressed…
- The weather is throwing me off! This time it was summertime there (very different from the chilly temperatures of summer 2016). I enjoyed the sunshine and the short sleeves.
- The missionaries are still amazing. It was a joy for me to be reunited with them, even if for a brief time.


Verses of the week:
Psalm 34:8
Romans 8:28
John 15:1-5
Galatians 3:28 / 1 Corinthians 12:13
John 10:11-15

Prayer Requests:
>That God will send workers into BA who can water the seeds.
>Adjustment for the team.
>Support and encouragement for the missionaries.
>A continued passion for myself and my team to share the Gospel with those we come into contact with everyday.

Las iglesias estadounidenses y argentinas

Our last team left a few days ago. That makes three since I last posted. All of the groups have come from churches in Tennessee, which almost automatically initiates a bond between us. It's funny because when back in the States, it is never as exciting to meet someone who lives 15 minutes away from you, but when you're in a foreign country, it's like reuniting with that long lost cousin that you grew up hearing all of the stories about. In reality, we know nothing about each other—at all—but we are from the same country, same state, same city even, and that means we are connected, means we have a link that practically no one else for miles around can match.

Each TN church has a partnership with a particular church here in BA, and at least one of the people from each team has been to the city before and is at least somewhat familiar with the neighborhood, the church, and its members. This is one of the things that I appreciate the most: long-term commitment. The last team was even making arrangements with a local pastor about when they could come back and help with a future event.

Since I haven't written in a while (I never promised to be consistent), I will have to backtrack several weeks. Church 1 arrived the end of June. Lindsay and I had been prepping for them for weeks--familiarizing ourselves with the sites, the transportation, the church they would be working with, etc. Now all of our work would be put to the test.

Each team's week began with the same thing: literature distribution in the neighborhood that encompasses the church or activity site. Although every team passed out flyers, I think each team performed differently. With our first team, Lindsay and I were their mouths; so we mainly slid flyers under doors and in mailboxes, spitting out the occasional phrases of information to the people passing by. After a while, two of the team members picked up a few tibdits that they could share quickly and easily, too. Beyond getting them where they needed to go and translating when we could, Lindsay and I were not as involved in their ministry. We had made other arrangements to teach a couple of English classes that conflicted with the team's schedule. The group had planned to teach a few lessons, give their testimonies, and make some crafts with different groups throughout the weekend. From what we gathered, the weekend ran smoothly, and a couple of people from the neighborhood came.

Team 2 consisted of all Spanish speakers (which was very exciting for Lindsay and I). They actually came from the church that my family attends and where I was active throughout high school. It was nice to see familiar faces, even if we had only known each other by name and face. They had prepared a Vacation Bible School and movie night, and everyone was given a responsibility. The VBS consisted of several parts: songs, games, Bible lesson, craft, and snack. Lindsay and I helped with the songs—learning the motions and Spanish lyrics—and games. The first night we were slightly disappointed because the few kids that did come belonged to either a missionary or church family. But we prayed, and the next two nights God brought in more children and their parents. On Sunday morning, one mother came to church, and the team pastor led her to believe in Jesus. God is faithful.

The last team also worked with children in an outdoor fair of sorts. Picture a park with a cement area blocked off for stations of easels and paint, balloon animals (which eventually dwindled to the two options of sword or flower), face paint, and puppet shows. Tons of kids filed through, and both child and parent were excited to discover that everything was free. To close each afternoon, the church put on a puppet show that tied in the Gospel message. The final day, instead of a puppet show, the members performed a play, complete with sound system, hand-painted backdrops, costumes, hair and makeup, and original script. You could tell they put a lot of time and effort into making it special, and the kids seemed to really enjoy it.

Lindsay and I were both a bit intrigued by this last church that we worked with. It contrasted with the others because the first two met in a traditional church building and had mostly older people in attendance. This one is commonly called “church on the streets” because it regularly meets in the upstairs room of a pizzeria to have church on Sunday nights. What really caught our attention was the abundant love each member had, not only for Jesus, but also for one another and their community. During the time for prayer requests one Sunday, every person sitting around the table took out something to write down their neighbor’s needs. You could see the eagerness they had to lift up each other to the Lord in prayer. I think it is the smallest gestures that display the greatest love. And although this church is one of the younger ones around and functions a little differently, it appears to be healthy and growing.

So with our last team gone, we have no one left to prep for. We now only have 11 days more in the Southern Hemisphere. The days have been long, but the weeks pass quickly. I believe in the remaining time I will be doing much reflecting—reflecting on this trip and my life and how they are supposed to tie together. If God gives me any grand revelations, I will be sure to include those in my next post.

Las Primeras Semanas

Lindsay and I just rounded out our third week here in BA. Now, if you have been keeping up with my Facebook or Instagram, you might be wondering if we have done anything but sightseeing thus far. This was supposed to be a mission trip, right? If you have been pondering these things, let me give you a broad overview of our first few weeks.

I approached this trip with the feeling that I was going in blind. I was given a short summary of what the trip would entail, but it wasn't until a few weeks before I departed that I understood the greater details. This to say that I did not have many expectations of what life would be for us here, or what we would be doing on a daily basis. This trip does not mirror any mission trip I have been on before. I have realized that a longer trip--like this one--has an entirely different feel to it, which I hope to explain as I continue. 

If you have read my post about the bus, then you will have a decent idea of what our first week and a half here looked like. One of our primary objectives while in BA is to be the mediators between the USA missions teams and the churches and communities that they are coming to partner with. That means that Lindsay and I will be their guides in transportation, communication (HA!), and tourist outings. So becoming familiar with the bus and its various routes was very important for us. And to satisfy that followup question: yes, we now have confidence to ride the bus without fear or ignorance. We have gotten much better at asking strangers for directions, and that has hardly failed us... And the subway is a piece of cake; therefore, it is my preferred method of travel, but we don't always get so fortunate. We know how to read maps and understand our bus route guide. This is all due to repeated failure, patience, our skilled teachers, and the mercy of God. 

Alongside our conquest of the transportation system, Lindsay and I have been attending church services, Bible studies, and discipleship groups across the city. Today is our 26th day on the ground, and we have now been to 16 of such gatherings. Each of the three missionary families has a different home church, so there have been many people to meet and connect with during our stay. The churches are all Evangelical Baptist churches, but each differs in size, preaching and worship style, length of service, type of building, and neighborhood. So if you were to ask me what a typical service looked like, I would ask you to be a tad more specific. Most of the churches or groups that we have been exposed to are the places/people with which a USA team will be partnering at some point in the coming weeks. The others are where Lindsay and I have a more specific outreach, such as teaching English, which is another story in itself. 

You don't realize how complex and nonsensical the English language is until you try to teach it. 

"Why do you spell it like that? Why is it pronounced that way?" / /  "Well. Because it just is!" 

The main group of people that we are teaching, knows almost nothing about English. The ABCs are complicated. There are sounds in our language that they never have used before which I think is kind of crazy to think about. Lindsay and I often feel unequipped to give them what they need and how they need it. We aren't teachers, and most of what we teach them in English needs to be explained in Castellano (the language that we still have yet to master). It's a bit of a mess. But, we are learning a lot after each lesson, and we pray that they are, too. Like everything else here--it is a process. 

And then there is the sightseeing. We have been all around this massive city and have hit the majority of the highlights. From parks, to museums, to bookstores, to monuments, to the water and back again. We know what costs money, the days and hours of operation, the distance from the subway stop, and where all the nearby Starbucks are located. I would consider us experts in tourism. :) We have even been able to do a few things with the natives! A handful of young people from the churches have been gracious enough to take us on the town. But not only to do the tourist stuff, but to be a part of their lives. That has been a great blessing. 

So as I said, it's a process. This is my life right now. I was slightly discouraged in the beginning because I felt we weren't given enough to do that produced any growth. We have spent the majority of our time in churches, talking to Christians. But we are going to be here for about seven more weeks. Seven. And I have been reminded that sometimes your job is to lay the groundwork, to form relationships, to build bridges. Our first team arrives this evening from Tennessee (A.K.A. God's country). Things will begin to take form, and the pace will quicken. Everything we have been doing these past few weeks was to prepare us for weeks like these. So pray for us, please. We are excited (and if I'm honest, maybe a bit nervous). Pray that God works through this team to reach the people of this city.

On a heavier note, almost a week ago my grandpa passed away unexpectedly. It was a major blow to the family, and it was difficult to be here and process everything that was going on while 5000+ miles away from home. It was truly amazing how much support my family and I received during that time, not only from family and friends in the States, but from the people I live and interact with here in BA. Right before we left for our summer away, Grandpa had given my brother and I encouragement cards which had the very specific instruction of "Open June 15."  The date didn't hold much significance to him when he wrote it--just seemed like a good day, which shows his sense of humor. He died on June 12, and after three days of anticipation, I opened his letter. It was a sweet note. One thing he wrote that stuck out to me was this: "Now you will get a taste of what that (life) job is like and whether or not you want to continue in that work." The separation from family is one of those things that gives me a taste of what this "life" is like.

A great thing about this trip is that we get to see the everyday lives of established missionaries. At this juncture, I think I have appreciated that the most. As my grandpa hinted, I have contemplated living full time on the mission field for some years now. Of course, every missionary family, location, and experience is unique. But events such as the passing of a loved one shows me that this is not just an amazing adventure, but reality. However, I am grateful for this opportunity, and for the movement of my Father in all of these events. I am anxious to see where He is leading me through this. 

La torre de Babel

"Now the whole earth had one language and the same words. And as people migrated from the east, they found a plain in the land of Shinar and settled there. And they said to one another, “Come, let us make bricks, and burn them thoroughly.” And they had brick for stone, and bitumen for mortar. Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.” And the Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which the children of man had built.  And the Lord said, “Behold, they are one people, and they have all one language, and this is only the beginning of what they will do. And nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. Come, let us go down and there confuse their language, so that they may not understand one another's speech.” So the Lord dispersed them from there over the face of all the earth, and they left off building the city. Therefore its name was called Babel, because there the Lord confused the language of all the earth. And from there the Lord dispersed them over the face of all the earth. {Genesis 11:1-9}

Allow me to paint a mental picture for you:
There is a young girl, just learning how to read, and she sits down with a stranger to read aloud with her. The young girl's age and reading level would suggest a nice picture book with large font and few words, but what she has in her backpack is to the contrary. Instead of a colorful Eric Carle, out comes a Charles Dickens' novel, [insert title of choice]. The stranger is excited because that is one of her favorites; she has read it through multiple times and has watched a couple of movie adaptations, as well. So they open the book with the intent to take turns--the woman would read page 1, the girl would read page 2, and so on. The woman begins with enthusiasm, soaking in each word of the familiar text. As she turns the page, the girl--eager to delve into the story--starts to read. Almost immediately it is made clear that she is exactly what she had originally appeared to be: a young lass with a low literacy rate. The girl recognizes a good handful of the words on her page, but every few moments she struggles as she approaches a strange jumble of letters. She pauses and tries to connect the sounds to form a coherent word. She isn't sure what exactly the word means or if she pronounced it correctly, but she pushes on to the next speed bump. After several lines of staggering speech, the girl becomes agitated. She wells with frustration because she just doesn't feel suited to the task at hand. The further in the text she reads, the more she is made aware of the stranger's presence. Her embarrassment settles in her cheeks. But the woman has been nothing but patient, helping the girl when she cannot get past a particular word or phrase. It is now the stranger's turn to read again, and she picks up from where the girl left off with an eloquent tongue, yet at a noticeably slower pace than before. She finishes and smiles as it is the girl's turn yet again. Anxious to prove that she can read this novel, despite what her age may lead the stranger to infer about her reading ability, she begins again, but the girl cannot seem to grasp the words in the same way that the woman can. The girl stops mid-sentence, looks at the woman with apologetic eyes, and closes her book.

Now let's imagine how both of these females feel, yes? The young girl probably feels incompetent and foolish for wanting to start with such a book. But the girl had heard so much about the book and the author and the plot--it excited her and she was anxious to experience it all for herself. Come to find out, she is unprepared for such a task. So many words do not register; so many idioms present themselves without providing further explanation. The woman is kind, but she was also growing weary of the girl's efforts. The girl had good intentions, but she was butchering a classic [and favorite of said stranger]. Internally the woman had sighed with relief as the girl closed the book, but she did pity the girl and appreciated her wanting to try. Maybe when the girl grows up a little, they can pick up where they left off--the middle of page 4.

 Ok, I'm sure you see where I am going with this by now.

In terms of my Spanish speaking/understanding ability, I am probably as literate as a second or third grader [which is older/more experienced than the girl in my illustration, but not by much]. Have you ever tried to have an intelligent, fluid conversation with a seven-year-old about say... politics, movies, college courses, etc? You should try sometime and tell me how it goes. That is how I feel when I try to have a conversation with a native Spanish speaker. The words helpless, ignorant, and headache run through my mind. Try watching a random movie in a different language [without English subtitles] without feeling anxious or frustrated at not being able to comprehend anything.

Over the past few months I have been mulling over this whole language-crisis thing. You know what language does? It divides peoples. Cuts communication and therefore limits relationships. But then I realized something: God did not intend for it to be this way. He made us for relationships--relationships with Him and with each other. The multitude of languages that exist today on this planet are the result of {.....wait for it.....} SIN! Crazy right? In the beginning, God had this great idea that people would live in harmony with one another, loving Him and one another. But after Babel*--after the people wanted to become like gods, wanted to elevate themselves above the one God who created them--God did the merciful thing. Instead of smiting all humankind, He allowed it to continue, just more disconnected. People had already detached from their God, so God would detach them from one another. Ever since the fall of man, people have tried to reverse the curse, without success. Jesus did bridge the gap between man and God, but now, Christians have to bridge the gap between themselves and everyone else {Great Commission--Matthew 28:18-20}. But that whole language-difference-as-a-result-of-sin thing muddies that task.

Wanting to learn and put my Spanish knowledge into practice has been THE hardest and most humbling thing that I have ever experienced. In context of my present circumstances, I have come here to BA to build relationships and share about Jesus. But my excitement is shadowed by my inability to speak, to understand, to communicate well. Sometimes it feels utterly defeating. After years of Spanish courses in high school and college, I do not think I should be having as much trouble as I am right now.

I know God has me here for a reason. A verse that motivated me in the beginning to apply for this position was, "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." {2 Corinthians 12:9} I knew that I would struggle with the language, but I was following a God that is bigger than language, that created language. So no matter how discouraged I feel, I know He is going to work through my inability to speak for His glory. So as that young girl, I will return to the bench with the Dickens' novel and push through until the words begin to flow and understanding comes naturally, all the while praying that the woman will have unending grace.^


*I personally read the Bible literally. If you do not, just go with it. Thanks.

^This post is not a result of self-pity, so I am not fishing for you to leave a supportive comment. Please just continue to pray that God will use Lindsay and I to reach the people of BA, and that He will teach me as I struggle with the effects of that unfortunate mishap thousands of years ago: Babel.

El Colectivo

This entry is dedicated to my new acquaintance: the bus.
In the Unites States, the quality and commonality of public transportation usually depends on the part of the country in which you live. Urban areas utilize it more than the suburbs and rural areas. This, I am sure, is not news to anyone, but I preface this way to let you know that I am not from a part of the country that utilizes public transportation as its primary mode. Yes, there is a functioning bus system, but more people/families own and drive a car. Here in Buenos Aires--megacity that it is--the bus is the number one form of transportation. There is a subway system, too, but the bus reaches a much broader spectrum of the map. They number from 1-464, and can take you almost anywhere in the city of BA. It's an intricate web, that even an experienced Argentine can find hard to navigate [ok I haven't exactly met anyone who professes to be such, but for the sake of argument, let's just nod and continue.]

So, as I said, I do not come from a big city, and I have never relied on the bus for transportation. Therefore, you must believe me when I say that these past few days have been quite an experience. I have transitioned from driving everywhere to relying 100% on a bus system that I am unfamiliar with. Not only is riding the bus an adjustment, but I also have to communicate where I want to go in Spanish*. Several times within the past few days, I have told the driver the name of the streets I wish to arrive at, and he looks at me with confusion and leans in to hear me repeat my mispronunciation of "Nogoyá." After a few moments of mumbled instructions, he signals me to keep the line moving towards the back of the bus. I get to one of the hand rails and wait for Lindsay to ask what he had been telling me, but she hadn't understood either. After we ride for several blocks, we start to second guess if we are headed in the right direction. We (as in Lindsay--spokeswoman of this duo) ask fellow passengers if they know where Nogoyá is, and thankfully they do. They kindly let us know that it is in the opposite direction. We had hopped the right number bus, but instead of 114A, it should have been 114B. Or we had missed our stop completely by a couple of miles. Or we should have boarded this same bus on opposite side of the street, which would take us south instead of north. You might be curious as to how we could manage to accomplish all of this within a matter of days, but let me assure you, each of those scenarios has occurred--and some more than once.

But we are improving. Really. Today it only took us about an hour and fifteen minutes to get to a location which yesterday had taken us three hours. We learned how to reload our bus/subway card, which had started to empty all the more rapidly the more we paid for routes we hadn't intended to take. We have walked a lot, which is my favorite part of the bus ride--getting off. We have become more willing to ask people for directions, on and off the bus. When lost on the ground, a police officer is always a good go-to. When in doubt, we press the parar button to disembark and jump off as quickly as possible to figure out if we made a wrong turn. Sometimes we just get anxious and jump off without double checking with our guia [our bus route booklet] or a passenger/driver. Thankfully, there has always been a way to walk to where we need to be--whether that's our final destination or another bus stop--and neither of us mind walking. It has been an exhausting past few days, but we have learned so much. The people here are great. Not only is the missionary family^ always on-call if we're lost and need assistance, but they also let us collapse on their living room floor when we finally arrive at their house a few hours past our original ETA. The Argentines that we have interacted with have also been friendly and don't seem to mind that we don't exactly know what we are doing. Many have had more patience with us than I would have deemed kind. The people we meet and have relationships with make riding the bus all the more enjoyable (if that is even an adjective I can attribute to the bus).

Next we master the subway.

 *We have been told several times that Argentine's do not speak Spanish, but Castellano. It is the same thing with a few notable exceptions. Pronunciation is one of them. If you are familiar with the Spanish language, you know that the "y" makes the <ee> sound and "ll" make the <y> sound, but in Castellano, the two are pronounced as "sh" (with a bit of a buzz of the tongue). Also some of the words are different, but that might be more due to the fact that each Latin American country has slightly different vocabulary. Overall it's the same,  but some words change. For example, in most Spanish speaking countries, "strawberry" is "fresa," but here it is called "frutilla." So we are not only brushing up on our Spanish, but also learning the Castellano twist. 

 ^The missionary families here are fabulous. They make this place feel more like home.

Background

I would like to preface by stating that I do not claim to be a writer. I am inconsistent, and sometimes it is difficult to pull my thoughts together in an organized manner. So let this serve as your warning to throw out any expectations you may have of this blog. If you were hoping for more, you can check out my teammate's blog at daileyrambles.blogspot.com.

If you're in it for the long haul [Mom], I welcome you to the madness. Let's begin.

For those who are unaware of the months leading up to this crazy adventure, let me be the first to fill you in on what has been going on behind the scenes. [If this is old news, feel free to scroll.]
Back in October, I was presented with the opportunity to graduate a semester early--December 2016. I was overjoyed at the prospect, but I would have to take a couple of summer classes to make this possible. That did not seem like a big deal, so I began planning out what my summer would look like. I was hoping to squeeze in a short-term mission trip somewhere, if possible. I had been to Nicaragua the summer before, and I had the option to return for another week this May. There were a few other trips that seemed interesting, but I could not quite decide what I was going to do. Getting tipped off by my BCM, I explored the SendTN website for mission trips and came across the international page. There were only a few listed, but one of them was a summer-long trip to Argentina. That immediately got my attention.

For years now, I have had an unprecedented attachment to Argentina. My past few years of Spanish classes and projects has only increased my interest in the country. Although the opportunity excited me, I did not want to give up the idea of an early graduation. I was encouraged to start an online application for the trip, just in case I changed my mind, but I soon put it aside. Steven (my BCM director) called a few weeks after school started in the spring semester to let me know that my application would be deleted in a week due to inactivity. I told him to ask me again in a few days, and then I would give him the official green light to shut it down. In a matter of hours, my intentions to discard the application vanished, and I kicked it into high gear to finish by the approaching due date.

Within two weeks, I found myself in an interview with a group of other students from around Tennessee who all hoped to spend their summers on mission, too. Our group had been warned several times that we might not get our first choice in location/trip. As I drove home from the interview, I had almost resigned myself to the idea that there was no way I would get my first pick, so I was a little surprised and very overjoyed to be told that I was, in fact, going to be serving in Argentina this summer. This meant two things: once again, I would be graduating with my fellow classmates in May 2017, and that I had a ton of money to raise ASAP.

It is crazy how quickly and overwhelmingly my friends and family jumped in to support me on this journey. Piece by piece, I was given more information about my trip, filling me with excitement and anxiety. My departure was approaching. Quickly. Soon enough I found myself on the road and headed to meet with all of the other SendTN summer missionaries at orientation. The more time that elapsed before my journey, the more worry and fear crept in. I was going to be away from home--my family, my friends, my language, my familiarity and comfort--for two and a half months. I have never done anything quite like this before. But God has been so faithful throughout the entire process. He was the one that prompted me to apply for and complete the application for the trip, who raised 100% of my support, who gave me a wonderful group of people to pray for and encourage me daily, who has never left my side for a moment. He has woven Himself into the entire story, and I am so thankful. How can I fear if He is my guide?

So here I am. In Buenos Aires, Argentina. Can you believe it? I sure can't. Lindsay (my teammate) and I arrived this morning around 7am UTC (which is 6am EST) and headed straight to our apartment to be briefed. It's going to be a crazy adventure.