Coincidencs are not without a sense of irony.

Coincidences. I find that I don't believe in them so much. Not anymore.

Coming back from Bolivia has been interesting, to say the least. I can't lie, and say that this summer was as amazing as I would have liked. No, this summer was torture. So many things happened to me that left me writhing in a sort of "spiritual pain", if I can say it like that.
I realize now, that this whole year has been a sort of spiritual pregnancy, as an idea has been growing inside my head that only recently has been birthed.
Conceived about a year ago, I attended a church service where John Hernandez (the founder of CIN) preached about "Nailing whatever is holding you back from Christ to the Cross."
I didn't understand much of the sermon, because it was mostly in spanish, but what I do remember, was how John challenged us to write down on a piece of paper whatever it was that was holding us back from following Christ. Then we were to walk to the front of the church, where he had multiple wooden crosses and nails. He asked us to nail what was on that paper to the cross.
Cliche, I thought. But then I started thinking about what that actually meant. What was it that was holding ME back from serving Christ? It wasn't my sin, though sin does keep us from God. I realized what was holding me back was my life. I had been keeping my life neatly compartmentalized, tucked away in the corners of my mind, free from God's control. I wanted to have my "Christianity Cake" and eat it too.

Sure, I was a Christian. I was doing everything that God could ask of any Christian. I was living the life any true North American Christian would. And I know, that it was okay to do so. I wasn't committing any sin by living this life.

But I suspected, that there may be more to it. And I knew, that this "life", as I called it, was what was holding me back. From what, I couldn't tell you at the time. I just knew that it was holding me back from what God truly had in store for me. So I had the choice. Continue my "life", and live in the shadow of God's Glory. Or give my "life" away, and potentially bask in the fullness of it.

So I scribbled "Mi Vida" on the paper, and I walked up to the front. I nailed my life to the cross.
In Spanish.

I didn't know what that meant for a very long time. I tried "giving up" my life after that, sacrificing what I thought anyone who had done such a thing should. Like sleep to read my bible. But eventually, I forgot and resumed life as normal. Every now and then, God would casually remind me of how I nailed my life to the cross, but I never really understood what it meant so I ignored it.

And this year was hard. So hard that there were times I just wanted to die. I would cry myself to sleep almost every night, feeling so alone, hurting so badly. Not wanting to live here, but not wanting to live anywhere. Even this summer in Bolivia, I had nights of "I just don't want to be here, God," running through my skull until the thoughts leaked out of the cracked glass of my soul. "I don't want to be anywhere."

Satan has pushed so hard, this year. He has lurked in every shadow, every corner. Every time I looked in the mirror, he was there. Scratching at my arms, feeding on my thoughts. Satan has been a punk this year. And I have fought back. Tooth and nail, I have pushed back. I keep seeing images in my head of a lone warrior with nothing but a shield, pushing against the hordes of hell. That scene in 300? Where they are pushing the army off the cliff? That is me, and Satan is going over.

I've hated my friends this year, and learned to love them again. I've committed sins that I had promised God many years ago that I'd never do again, and have fresh scars to show from it. This year has been so tough, and I didn't know why. But it's all starting to make sense. This summer was nothing but contractions in the birthing process as the idea began to free itself from my mind.

I guess all the poetic wording is to make this one statement: Everything makes sense now. All of it. Or at least the parts that matter.
From learning how to depend on friends, to having none at all. From realizing that sin isn't something you can completely free yourself from, it has to be understood to be conquered. (And only Christ can do that.) From getting to Bolivia, and realizing that wasn't enough to make me happy. To praying for a clear vision of my life, knowing I wasn't meant to be a clown forever. Having John Hernandez tell me this year how when Levi was called, (by Jesus) that he "Got up. Left all. And followed Him." To learning I had a love for Hispanic and Latin culture and people, to remembering that I had nailed my LIFE to the CROSS. IN SPANISH. To panicking because God revealed to me what that meant. Getting home, realizing I was losing my job (at least, the job in the way that I know it.) Reading Matthew and getting stuck on the part about the rich young ruler. Having the words, "This one thing you lack, sell all your possessions, give that money to the poor, and Follow Me."
Follow Me. Follow Me. Follow Me.
I can't shake the words from my head. Follow Me.

I keep telling myself I'm making thing up. This isn't a burning bush, but it's pretty hot.

That, and realizing now, how the whole time in Bolivia, I had a pair of Jeans that had (what I thought was a Venezuelan flag) stitched into the seam. Those jeans were a size 34, a size that I was just able to fit into this summer. Come to find out, it was a Colombian Flag. The very place I've had rolling around in my mind lately. "Colombia just fits so nice."
Coincidences are not without a sense of irony. And that irony has not been lost on me. That final piece of the puzzle isn't there yet, but it is in my hands, waiting for a very crucial conversation. But I know that the puzzle will never be complete until I put that piece in. It is only a matter of time before I decide to complete it.
Prayers are always helpful.