i procrastinated to post this (costa rica, chapter one)

     on the twenty-eighth of september, we said our goodbyes to the people of REAP, granada. 

     our bags in a neat heap behind us, the sky dark and dreary, it was a bittersweet time. 

     i was excited for costa rica, but sad to leave granada. excited for new things, new ministry, a new city, new culture, new people—

     but sad to leave the old ones. i’d grown to like the old ones a lot. 

     we swallowed our tears (ew), and piled into our little van for the drive to the border. 

     it was pretty quiet—the van was filled all the way up it seemed with thick layers of thought and thinking. i cannot speak for everyone else in the vehicle but i personally made awkward eye contact with the driver in the rear view mirror more than once. 

     after a few hours, we arrived at the border and after a few more, we were on our way to our hostel in jaco, costa rica. 

      my general first impression of jaco was at night time. i was tired from sitting in the car all day (that doesn’t even make sense uhm what), and i was hungry and sleepy and ready to crash wherever i was told. 

     because of the aforementioned bullet points, i didn’t really make much of the way i was feeling at first because i thought it was just my body being dramatic again and sort of chalked it up to, “i just need sleep and food and like three hours of no people and i’ll be fine.” just travel day things. 

     but as we walked through the city to find food for dinner, i noticed that my tiredness felt different. i  felt suffocated and foggy brained. the more we walked through jaco, the more i felt like i was trudging through thick, dark, invisible mud. i felt weighed down and slow and honestly confused. 

     i felt heavy. 

     almost as soon as i came up with that word in my head, i felt it even stronger. i could practically feel the city of jaco drowning in spiritual heaviness and i didn’t know how i knew but i knew and it felt like i was moving as slow as i possibly could—physically and mentally. 

     when we got back to the hostel, i felt weak and even almost wanted to pass out. being tired from the journey didn’t help. 

     before we went to bed that night we prayed over our room and all our bunks. even though i’d done it almost every night since we started the trip, i prayed harder that night because i hated the thought of us sleeping in what i’d felt in the city. i felt hurt for everyone outside. 

     i woke up tired the next day and decided to ignore it and allow myself to recover from traveling and all that—basically i made an absurdly enormous effort to blame the heaviness on anything else. 

     that day, while everyone was at the beach, and i was alone in the hostel room, a weird thing happened. 

     i was curled up in the fetal position playing minecraft in the corner of my bed with the tiny fan pointed on the back of my neck, entertaining and energizing myself with the joys of digital architecture (an oddly specific position my teammates seem to find me in on the regular), when i heard something.

     i didn’t really hear it very clearly so i said “what?” out loud, and then instantly felt dumb because no one was there. i switched the fan off and listened, thinking maybe i’d misheard someone from outside calling me or something, but it was perfectly quiet, and no one was on the deck. i could hear the ocean, and a mariachi band in the distance, but no people. then i heard it again, really small but perfectly clear, and in my ear this time.

     “prayer assignment.”

     what?

     i said it out loud a few times. i knew i’d heard it—on this trip Jesus has spoken to me more times than i can count and i feel like i know a little bit more about what his voice sounds like. i knew what it meant, but i’ll be honest—i didn’t really want to think about it. i was excited about recharging at debrief and playing minecraft by myself in the corner for three days and then meeting new people and starting new ministry and going to the beach. i did not want to think about praying for an entire city, even though i knew how much it needed it, given my experience the night before. i sat there with minecraft growing dim on my screen, thinking too hard and hating myself for it. prayer assignment. hm. 

     so guess what i did?

     “you ignored it?!”

     ten points to hufflepuff. i ignored it.

     over the next few days of debrief at the hostel, i continued to feel the heaviness throughout the city, whether we were at the beach or out exploring or even just in our room. i called people on the phone and listened to music and did missionary life things and i still felt it everywhere. and mom: yes, i have been taking iron and b12:)

     i knew it was heavy but i didn’t do anything about it. i mentioned it to my team, and some of our debrief sessions ended up being about spiritual protection, but i continued to feel weighed down, slow, confused and foggy. i felt basically useless. i prayed over my bed at night and that was about it. 

     by the last day of debrief, i actually felt sick. that night, i had an episode. whether a panic attack or a spiritual attack or both, i can’t go into much detail because it’s hard to explain something like that and make sense—especially when i don’t remember much of it. but i do know that i couldn’t hold myself up. it was like i was underneath something big and heavy and suffocating. at one point i couldn’t breathe. i felt hopeless and desperate for nothing in particular the whole time and my brain felt like it didn’t work. i felt certain that what i was feeling was spiritual but i didn’t know how to get it off me. near the end of it i felt like i needed to open my Bible. my hands felt itchy and i remember i kept looking at them to see if something was on them but nothing was and i eventually opened my Bible because for some reason my logic was that holding it would make my hands stop itching. i was right. 

     i didn’t know where to go so i asked without thinking—tired and in pain and itchy and confused, i asked. i know i probably sounded crazy. “where where where?” 

     in my ear, “micah 7:8.” 

     i let it fall open and it landed on micah by itself. i flipped to 7:8. 

“do not rejoice over me, my enemy; 

when i fall, i will arise; 

when i sit in darkness, 

the lord will be a light to me.” 

     i put/shoved my Bible into the hands of the people who were by now sitting and praying with me and they read it a few times. the peace came slowly but steadily and after a bit i felt a little better and could somewhat think. 

     when i came out of it, and after a long shower (my efforts to ”wash” everything off), as i was falling asleep, worn out and dead inside, i decided i couldn’t really ignore it anymore and if i wanted to feel different and for the people in the city to feel different (whether or not they felt it), i had to pray. 

     i believe Jesus has given my team and i an assignment, to pray for the city of jaco and its people while we are here. i didn’t know then what our ministry was going to be but i felt very strongly about specifically praying for jaco, and i later learned more (stay tuned). i know it’s been a while since i posted a blog but i’ll be honest, i had a little bit of fear about posting because i felt like i couldn’t post anything about ministry or our new home without starting with debrief or initial first impressions of the city, especially since i feel so specifically about it. 

     i encourage those of you who made it this far to join me in prayer:) for general spiritual heaviness to dissolve and for weighted blankets of peace over homes and hope established in the hearts and minds of the people here, and for desperation and confusion to be lifted off. also for protection over us as we finish up the last week or so of our time here in costa rica and move on to panama. 

     thanks for everything:) 

     – 🙂