PRAY

me and Franz
(one of the Villa Israel boys,
recently moved to the Frutillar orphanage)

Ambiguity. That's the theme of my life in Bolivia. I wrestled for 6 months with my visa when I was here as a volunteer, and now, 4 months later, I'm in the same place.

When I left 2 and a half months ago, I thought I was saying goodbye for just 5 months. Even though I hadn't bought plane tickets, I had plans to return to Colorado for the summer during school vacation. My heart was full of plans: the people I would see, the time in the alpine tundra I'd soak up, and the mountain berries I'd pick. It was more than just returning to evade homesickness... it was going to be a time to really deepen and invest in relationships that are important to me.

This week, I learned that a series of complications, both with my contract and with my visa, may very likely keep me from coming home this summer. My contract is stuck in La Paz, with the Ministry of Labor, where it has quite possibly been for the last two and a half months. in order to get a work visa, I need my contract. The government has to approve this new contract, but seems to be waiting for new immigration laws to settle. Once I have my contract and can start the visa process, I may be looking at months before I have the piece of paper allowing me to leave the country.

So, as it stands now, it looks like I will be unable to leave the country. God must have some plan through all this ambiguity and frustrated plans; I just have to fight to see it. Pray. Pray that a miracle will be done with my visa and contract. Pray that God will continue to refine me through this process, and that I won't give up seeking His face in this.

one of my favorite running routes

In the midst of all the craziness, I've found that going on early morning runs before school saves my sanity. This last week, I had several gifts of quiet solitude, slipping through the dirt streets of the adobe pueblito above my house. These misty mornings have a calming effect on me, reminding me that God is ultimately in control of my future, my past, and my now. In the cloudy sunrises over the Andes, He whispers in my ear, "Katie, just breathe. Breathe in my goodness, and rest in my faithfulness." And looking over the glow of the city lights below, I believe, even if for a minute, that our God is a God who fights for us. A God who knows our heart's deepest cries and inmost groans.

Then I turn down the path and head back home, towards my anxieties, my frustrations, the mundane of daily life, but carrying with me just a little piece of the truth I find on my morning runs.

May each of you find your own "morning run". A time where you can rest each day in the knowledge that God's sovereignty is bigger than anything we could ever encounter.

Kati

"Be still and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth."
Psalm 46:10

a picnic at the Botanical Gardens