Rewrite & Refine // Identity in Guatemala

Hi & welcome back to the blog! 

Today I enjoyed a warm loaf of pesto focaccia bread, so let’s settle in! 

This blog is all about walking through and stepping into my identity over these last two months in Guatemala.

 Though Albania had its challenges, it felt like a version of home, the gray skies, grocery shopping and schedules took me back to the comforts of a Washington winter. I felt myself learning and discovering new things in Albania but all the while I was far too comfortable. I was one to talk about seeking discomfort which is commonly something I enjoy to pursue on my terms. But now stepping in to Guatemala my identity was shattering, floods full of doubt and insecurity crashed through the comfort I once had, it was all too big and out of my control. My days were suffocatingly overwhelming, I found myself feeling broken down, tired out, lost, confused, yearning for all the things I wasn’t, and losing the confidence I had always seemed to naturally walked in. Guatemala wasn’t my promised land, it wasn’t a place I wanted or desired to be, I told myself this day after day as we wrapped up Albania, traveled through Greece, and began our new little life in Guatemala. I was being crushed and pressed through transitioning from living with 9 people to then with 33 others, parent visits approaching, and now going home was in sight. Yet I still had no idea where I was going to work, what schools I was going to apply to, I had no idea who my friends were and what I would even be doing in the states on top of not knowing who I was. I had gotten myself on this World Race and now transitioning off of it felt like I was jumping off of a ship into the crashing icy waves of the world’s deepest ocean at midnight with no light to see where to swim. Guatemala, the land of eternal spring, the well spoken base where we’d be living, all the squad, new leaders, and a whole new ministry, it felt like the biggest culture shock thus far. Yet amidst all of these things God was breaking me down and refining me, teaching me to lean on him, to seek him, to embrace the community around me, all to be built up in the divine design he uniquely created me in. 

But each day I woke up and immediately compared myself to each person around me, to the joy and boundless love they overflowed with, I tore myself apart, wishing I could just embody all these same things I saw around me. I cried out to friends and teammates asking how I could be better, how to be a happier, more joyful friend. I begged them to tell me where did gone wrong all my life, I shown them my broken pieces laying at the bottom of a valley, I didn’t know what I was going to receive in return from them but I felt so covered and loved when each and every one of them didn’t try and fix or change me, but picked me up and held me. They carried down the beautiful path of community and friendship when my legs wouldn’t dare stand. They showed me the raw and real love of Jesus, never failing to point me back to prayer and scripture. They never failed to highlight my qualities that God so divinely designed me in. Though they didn’t fix me, they reminded me of who I was and how important I was as a piece of the puzzle. Most of all this community never failed to guide me back to the path Jesus so intentionally paved for me. Day by day I began to stop waking up wishing I wasn’t here, I began to wake up early and find things that filled me. Waking in the fog of cold mornings to read my bible, journal, listen to music, and dive into a new book or conversation with friends, day by day I began to see why this was called the land of eternal spring, but that didn’t mean my challenges went completely away. 

As someone with a vivid imagination I thrive at picturing myself in new places, in planning out my life, in creating a perfect world I then try to physically live out. I could picture myself traveling the world, I could see Malaysia and Thailand, I lived in Albania so well but all the while I had this disdain for Guatemala. I couldn’t picture it, I didn’t know what I would be doing here, what I’d look like or how life would carry on, I was lost inside my own imagination. 

Two questions swirled in my brain day after day as I strived to understand my purpose and my identity: Who am I when I can’t picture myself? At my skeleton what is my personality, where does my love flow from. What is my purpose in my natural strengths and abilities? Why was I gifted at being good at these things. How can I help and serve people as me and not a shadow of someone else. Something I often used as an example to express how I felt lost in my identity is the story of Martha and Mary in the home with Jesus found in Luke 10:38-42. It shows how Mary sits at the feet of Jesus, listening intently to  his teachings while Martha is in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning, trying to serve and maintain a clean and orderly home for the presents of Jesus. Why was Martha stuck in the kitchen? So good at being orderly and clean, being organized and on time, why was I emotional and such a deep logical person when the people around me seem so content and so good at just socializing? Why couldn’t I make people laugh and be filled with joy like the people around me? Why couldn’t I just be still like Mary? So many why them, why me and why God was I created this way? I struggled for a few weeks, rustling with God and myself, over and over again, but I couldn’t seem to answer. 

Slowly it began to come to me, like coffee dripping through a filter, sometimes we don’t need a big loud bolded answer to find peace. Maybe sometimes it looks like resting, being still and listening to the path that’s being paved ahead of you, sometimes you just need to find your fruitful people who bring life to your darkest valley. I can’t say I had a clear answer that hit me one day and everything felt okay. It was conversation after conversation, days just resting and reflecting. It was the slow realization that there is a season for everything in life, there is a season for growth, a season for questions and answers, and a season so divinely created for rest. Through those weeks of waking up feeling so lost in my identity, challenging every bone in my body, God broke me down, then began rewriting and refining who I thought I was. Each new day showed me a new light that I hadn’t seen before. A lighthouse holding the power of friendship and community is so beautiful and fruitful. Find people who have the firm foundation and swim closer to them, resting in the light they shed on the icy waters surrounding you. It’s the people who meet you at 0% day after day to hold you, pray for you, and remind you you only need to trust in the only person whom you gave your faith to. Day after day I began to rest in Jesus more then the people around me, day after day I began to restore that peace I longed for. Though it took so many days of feeling burnt out, used up, and just plain tired, but those same days were a reminder to keep pushing through, to keep being vulnerable, to keep seeking what first brought so much peace to my life 6-7 months ago, Jesus. I don’t know what day it finally clicked but I found a sort of peace within myself, with the world around me. Maybe once I grew tired of so much rustlings and I sat down and decided to just watch and listen, to stop seeking something so big and new but look in the small details of creation to find the peace and comfort of Jesus’s love. Maybe it was the day I decided I couldn’t keep living for myself any longer and to give my love, my energy, my gifts to the people and communities around me, to return the love my community gave to me on my darkest days. To knee down and serve the Lord of my heart, for he had brought me this far, given me everything I could ever see or think of.  In those days I pushed past my walls of comfort and chose to step in the skills God had gifted me, and divinely me. I started to see a new life. I saw how much the world needed and valued someone like me, someone to see the little details and step in, someone to process logically, I began to feel refreshed and inspired to see my future again. I began to pray and intercede for the things I longed for, I began to walk the path ahead of me instead of off the trail on some rocky cliffs, and along that path is where I found the freshest fruit, my new identity. 

Though Guatemala wasn’t my promised land, though it walked me through many deep valleys, though it felt like the deepest sea I was being thrown around and drowning it, it also brought a new light. It shown me you have to shed your old skin to keep growing, it showed me the blessings that begin to pour out when you keep pressing in. Through Guatemala I learned to embrace my identity through and with God, I learned there is a time to lay myself down and to stand firm. I leaned that each day, each smile, each step holds so much power, so much value, and when I chosen to walk in that, in the boldness of my faith and off my character, joys began to flow, fruit began to grow and ripped. My identity is being uprooted from the rocky world I planted it in and carried to soft soil where I get to grow boldly in my faith, in a community who follows the same path. 

I get to return to eden, to walk with God in the growing divine creation of his people and his garden. For God, never failed to stand by us, to strength us, to refine our hearts. My identity is now growing and being pruned in a garden of faith instead of a concrete jungle of judgement. 

Thank you for reading!! 

With many adventures & much love 

                                                                                              Aliya Koziol <3