I’ve been sitting on what I wanted to write for a few days now. Having taken in so much over the weekend, and by that I mean the little lessons sprinkled throughout the weekend in addition to the heaping plates of food, it has taken some time to digest it all. And to be honest, I think this past weekend will be one that continues to stick with me for some time to come.
As I sat around several tables this weekend, it struck me that no matter the language barrier, no matter the topic, all begins with an invitation. On Wednesday afternoon, my tutor Maria, invited me to Manacor for the weekend. There I would join her and her fiancé, Toni, for dinner with friends, and lunch with some of the teachers from school, and buena noche celebrations with her family. It was in Manacor that I realized that I only had to say yes to the original invitation to join Maria that I would then have many other doors opened to me.
I will admit that I was hesitant to say yes in the beginning. As I thought of the other options available to me as to how to spend my time over the holiday weekend, I was aware that I could have said yes to any of those and still had just as wonderful of a time, but I said yes to something uncertain. By accepting Maria’s offer, I accepted her hospitality and love and care for me over a holiday that I had yet to spend apart from my family. In doing so, I gained new friends and a family in her parents and sisters, and memories. And an appreciation for the traditions that another family practices on Christmas.
It was only after in the time I spent reminiscing the weekend, that I had realized that God had created this space for me. He was weaving together 36 hours for me that would show just how well he loves through those people he has put on my path. Two weeks ago, as I sat in the very chair I do now with a homesick heart, I could not fathom just how good Christmas weekend would be. I could not imagine spending time in a home with a family of four siblings and a Christmas tree blinking in the corner. I would not have guessed that I would try suckling pig (google it), and like it (don’t knock it until you try it).
It’s when I’ve come away from the weekend do I really begin to cultivate gratitude, to see that roots are taking hold in this place. That even when I was so certain that home would be the only way to spend this Christmas, I am all the more aware that God knows me better than I know myself and the need I believed would only be satisfied in the mitten state, would be fulfilled in Mallorca. In my search for groundedness, for something more, I am trusting that only God knows how it will all unfold. And my only job in it all is to say yes to the invitation.