Not a Chance

One day, Adilia and I were talking about cultures. Many of the things I told her about the US were new and surprising. "Why?" was a frequently asked question as I described a lifestyle different than the one she's known her whole life. We sat at the table eating our normal "I'm hungry. Me too. Let's go eat something at eleven o'clock at night" snack and chatted, going back and forth, finding the differences in our cultures and trying to explain them to each other. I took the things I had been noticing and flipped them around to tell her how they are different in my home country. The confused look on her face at some of the things I told her was priceless.

For some reason, that moment is ingrained in my mind. I can picture us sitting there, talking and laughing under the yellow light. It was a moment of harmony, of clarity, and of understanding. Of amazement.

Through all of those differences, we were together, building a friendship based on one similar thing: God.

Adilia was one of the biggest blessings throughout my whole trip. Her friendship is one of the deepest I have ever experienced. Even through my broken Spanish, she understands me better than most people I know. But to understand why, we have to start at the beginning. About two weeks before I left for Costa Rica, I realized that I was, indeed, going to Costa Rica. Alone. And I began to pray that God would provide a friend for the first few weeks of my trip, where I would be going to a town where I knew no one. I was sure that I needed a friend to talk to, to laugh with, to hike with, to have some resemblance of "normality" with. And I knew, without a doubt, that He was going to provide. Looking back, I literally don't know how I waved goodbye to my dad, got on that airplane, and started an adventure in a new country by myself. All I can say was that God carried me through. It is so obvious to me. He is the only reason I was able to do this.

I landed and was picked up and driven to the hostel, where I was planning on meeting the friend God put there at the same time as me.

Physic.

The only people staying there were a couple from Germany (I think?) who didn't speak English. And they left the next day.

I got to my dormitory room (which I didn't have to share with anyone, do to the absence of people around) and cried. Balling to God, I asked Him what I was doing there. I remember counting the days, figuring out how many weeks I would be in this country so I could begin counting down the days until I could leave and be home and comfortable.

As I began to fill my days by reading His word and a few other books I brought, walking around the town, doing my Spanish homework, and "cooking" my own meals (I made my rice like you would make pasta... oops) I became centered in Him. He was there. He was always there. I never had been alone. God Himself, the Creator of the universe, to whom I had been praying for a friend, became my friend. I talked with Him. I walked with Him. I ate with Him. I read His Word, and He spoke to me. He was literally my everything, and I realized something- He was all I'd ever need.

Jesus was my friend.

The second or third day into the trip, I realized that what my "goal" for this trip was had already been fulfilled. I wanted to go to Costa Rica to experience God in a new way. And I already had. I had never been so close to my Savior, and I had never considered Him my friend. Even if nothing else came out of me being there, I knew that I was where I was supposed to be, experiencing Him, loving Him, and being loved by Him. And that isn't a physical place.

I grew to cherish my alone time with Him, the quietness of my life, the seemingly purposeless, empty days which were so much more than words can say. This doesn't mean I was never sad or scared (more like depressed and petrified). But He carried me through. He was my friend, my best friend, He was there, and He was holding me. I loved Him for the fact that He didn't answer my prayer in the way I was thinking.

Nevertheless, you can imagine how elated I was to be picked up one Saturday by a family who immediately embraced me and counted me as their own. The feeling of fullness I felt, sitting in that car on the way to Jicotea, is something I had never felt before. I felt like I was home. And I was in a LandRover.

They had introduced me to Adilia, sitting right on my left, telling me she was an indigenous woman living with them for a while. I smiled at her, and then continued talking with the family, getting to know them and relishing in the fact that there were people who could understand exactly what I was trying to say... in English! I figured I would learn more of who she was later on. I didn't even know if she spoke Spanish. We stopped at the grandparents for lunch, and we sat awkwardly next to each other, trying to ignore it (I've become a semi-master at ignoring awkwardness, as it is a normal part of my interactions with people due to my random and not always put together self). I decided to end it once and for all.
"Do you speak Spanish?" I asked her.
"Yes." she said. "Do you?"
"A tiny bit. I'm still learning," I told her.

Then I realized that the awkwardness had only begun. I had just asked a native Spanish speaker if she knew how to speak Spanish. Oops.

Thankfully, we had a ball and two kids to play with, so we were able to move past that and begin to have fun.

They asked if I minded sharing a room with her. I didn't care at all, but felt bad imposing on her. But we moved my bag in to our new room and she told me which bed was mine. It was late, and we went to bed soon after getting home. After we turned off the lights, I asked her if it would bother her if I read my Bible.
"No problem!" She said.
"Ok, thanks!" I said. Unbeknownst to her, I was planning on using the light of my iPod to read, but in the silence as I was looking for it, she asked me,
"How are you going to read the Bible with no lights?"
I don't remember exactly how I responded, but it was something to the effect of "Ahh! What am I doing? My head is crazy tonight!"which made her crack up. She couldn't get over the fact that I had been about to try and read the Bible with no lights. We still laugh about that.
I asked her if she wanted to read with me, and asked her what she liked to read. She came and sat on my bed and we shared my bilingual Bible, reading a proverb together. My head really was crazy that night... I was feeling so many things that I couldn't begin to explain them in English, let alone to a girl I just met in Spanish. But that night, sitting on my bed, reading a random proverb in two languages, trying to figure it out together, is something I will never forget.

Humanly speaking, it would have been impossible for Adilia and I to become friends. To begin with, we live in two different countries, speak different languages, and have been raised in completely different ways. Not many of the Ditsai people know how to speak Spanish. Adilia does (and is able to interpret my own version of Spanish). One percent- let me say that again- ONE PERCENT- of the Ditsai population is Christian. Adilia is. Twelve girls started in part of the program Puentas de Vida that Cynthia helps to run. Five graduated. Adilia was one of those five. She had just arrived at the house to stay for the weekend because of some problems with her job a day or two before I got there. She could have gone to either of the other two ladies who run the program. Because of those problems, she ended up not just staying the weekend, but for the next two months. With me. A random 19-year old who freaked her family out by going to a different country, a place they had never been before, alone, with plans set more in mud than in stone. A country girl that has a passion for Spanish and had only chosen to do the discipleship program she did because a trip to a Spanish speaking country was part of it. A girl who went on that trip and feel in love with the people of a town that has only two pictures linked to it if you google search it. Me, who went back to that tiny town, instead of college, to see what else God was going to do in my heart.

I'm so glad I let God plan all that.

So God did answer my prayer. Overly and abundantly, as He normally does. He answered me with Himself. He was the friend I had prayed so hard for. There is no better friend on earth. And then, to top that off, He answered my prayer with Adilia.

In my prayer, I was expecting a girl who spoke English, who would walk around, cook, and study with me for a few weeks, and then eventually fade out of my life.

God gave me Himself and another sister.