Maybe

Never before has a new year been so unlike the old one. My last 4 months can be described, summarized, encapsulated (you get the picture) in one word: Perfection. Sure, I’ve had my ups and downs, spells of homesickness and times of sheer exhaustion, but those moments have always been fleeting. The school year ended smoothly and vacation was beginning. What more could I ask for? In addition, I was living with a family who loved me and who loved each other, or so it seemed.

On New Year’s Eve, the father of my Costa Rican family came back from a party, staggering drunk. He could barely stand and his speech was slurred as if he had just had his tongue numbed. After resting a bit, he got up and demanded the car keys. He was clearly in no position to drive; He could easily kill himself or a pedestrian. My Costa Rican mom offered to drive him home to rest, but that didn’t cut it for him. To make a long story short, it quickly escalated to a physical struggle and he was arrested shortly thereafter. Later, I learned that this has happened before and although it was years ago, this was the last straw. He was also unfaithful in his marriage. Divorce papers are being signed. My family’s lives had been turned upside down in a matter of hours.

That night, I hardly slept. I cried to God to save my family. I prayed that the two young girls (4 and 9 years old) would be spared the sadness of a broken home. As I prayed, I began to realize that whether or not there was a divorce, this was already a broken home. I instead began to pray that God would surround the family and that they would feel his love for them and keep them from further harm.
 Later, as I shared all this with my mom (as in, Lupe), she asked me what it meant for me. Was I going to still live there or would I have to move again? I realized that I didn’t want to move. I love my Costa Rican family with all my heart. Even though I can’t fix the marriage or erase the damage that was caused, I can do my part to make sure that life continues. Things as simple as making sure the laundry is done, the dishes are put away, and the house is clean can make a world of difference for a single, hard-working mother. I can make sure mom gets a break when she comes home from a work by playing with the girls or even just watching a movie with them. Though I came here to teach, maybe this family is my real mission, or rather, God’s real mission. Maybe I’m here “for such a time as this.”

*Update* My story was published in the Collegian, the student run newspaper at WWU.