After El Salvador

After El Salvador (to pair with the previous post)

After El Salvador, I had the worst summer of my life.
... my boyfriend broke up with me.
... my Casa family was falling apart
... we were all a mess
... I cried a lot
... I was really angry
... I had a lot of questions
... part of me tried to forget and move on
... I felt alone, but in a different way than before
... I wanted to go back
... I had one of the most profound religious experiences of my life
... I changed my plans
... I stayed in school another year
... I studied theology and women's studies, and I loved it
... I dropped the Spanish major. I already knew I could speak and live it, so what did I need a title for?
... I found new communities and clung to them for dear life
... I found other friends who had been broken by Latin America
... I held a garage sale and tried to sell almost everything I owned
... I offended those who had gifted me beautiful presents by selling them for $1 or $5
... I got rid of my closet full of shoes
... I made a decision to only read non-fiction books to learn more about the world
... I felt guilty for abandoning my friends and family
... I didn't write like I said I would
... I thought about El Salvador every day in some small way
... I had a newly kindled fire inside of me
... I had a lot of questions.. I still have a lot of questions
... I started exploring the divine feminine, and found a lot of power in her, in me
... I was so acutely aware of language, especially the masculine language that dominated the Church
... I realized there was no such thing as a just war, but that maybe an armed revolution was sometimes the only choice left
... There were no black and white, easy answers
... I knew I could never love America, the country of my birth, again
... I was challenged to live out the radical hospitality and love I received, and I often fail
... I questioned everything people in power told me, especially politicians
... I still get angry
... I still cry when I think about my beloveds in El Salvador
... I still have a fire in my belly