Paces and Peace

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the pace and rhythm of life. I think it’s always changing, but there are some things that always seem to crop back up. Goodbyes, for example. A year ago, I was saying goodbye to the places and people that defined my college experience. In these last few weeks, I’ve said goodbye to the other six interns I’ve worked with for the past ten months. I guess when you live, work, and learn together in such tight community (especially in a different country and culture), you get pretty close. The group was very special to me, and I’m thankful we’ll always have this bond. But things will look a lot different now that they’re gone. Besides missing their friendship and doing life together, I’m living in a different place, and I don’t have the schedule of two weekly intern studies or teaching SALI English classes anymore.

But, despite missing the companionship of my compatriots, I’m looking forward now to the different pace of this last phase of my time in Peru. The pace of the month leading up to their departure was frenzied, to say the least. Practically, people were finishing up SALI classes, packing their belongings, and saying difficult goodbyes to their friends and lives they’ve made here. Emotionally, all of that is combined with processing what

this past year has meant, how it has impacted them, the struggles, joys and lessons they have experienced, how God has worked in their lives. In a way, I went through part of that process with my friends – at least in a supportive, observant way. But I know my turn’s coming soon and, although I definitely don’t want to get ahead of myself, I think their goodbye process started my reflection wheels turning. Which, considering that I get to spread that process over the next couple of months, is a good thing, I think.

But I was pretty worn out by the time they all left, so I was thankful for another change of pace: I spent last week in the mountain city of Cajamarca, helping a couple there with some ideas for conversational English classes they’re starting at the church. I hope some of my presence was helpful, but I also just appreciated the chance to learn from their relaxed way of doing life and to enjoy being out of the city-pace of Trujillo. Seeing the room where the Spanish conquistadors held the Inca king Atahualpa hostage was a wonder. Going for a run in the dairy fields outside Cajamarca was refreshing. Visiting a few of the mountain churches gave me a breath of fresh air, literally and figuratively as I saw the distinctive, difficult, and beautiful reality of the culture and congregations in towns like Huacraruco, Manzana Mayo, and Quinoapata.

Whether it’s guiding a horse in a circle for four hours making a brick mixture, selling vegetables and fresh cheese in the market, or working in the clinic in Wichanzao, I guess we all have our own pace. Maybe God gives part of it to us, depending on our personality. Maybe sometimes it changes, depending on our circumstances. Maybe we should always be aware of it, running hard enough to make the most of every opportunity but slowing down enough to relish relationships, take in the scenery, and take care of ourselves. I’m pretty sure I’ll be trying to find that balance my whole life. But I’m thankful for the chance to try, and for people who inspire me to run hard and those that show me how to slow down. I think God gives us peace somewhere in the middle, when we run for Him but aren’t striving to be enough on our own…when we’re close to the pace He’s made us for.