I haven’t wanted to write.
I haven’t been able to express my emotion past the space of a Facebook status or an Instagram caption. These two weeks will be the longest stretch of time that I’ve gone without putting pen to paper and words to screen.
My heart is simultaneously BURSTING and breaking.
I had a crazy, busy week this past week in Mijas. I had class each day filled with teachings on tabernacle and covenant, I taught 5 English classes, cooked dinner every night, had a lunch date each day, made a five layer birthday cake and last, but certainly not least, taught a morning in class in front of my peers.
Not to mention a smattering of people I love leaving.
And today we had our last intern brunch.
The graduating class was asked the question: what surprised us about G42.
I’m shocked/surprised at how much I love, treasure and cherish these people.
My heart leaps at the mere thought of this tribe.
I didn’t expect to love these people this much.
I didn’t expect to carry the spirit of this place as much.
You come to this mountain and you see and feel the spirit of this place.
But you don’t get it at first.
I didn’t get it at first.
At first the spirit just hovers. It meanders down the streets and over the mountains. It resides in the houses and in the epi.
And then slowly you begin to grab it. Slowly you begin to understand that the spirit doesn’t just have to hover around you. You can take what’s for you. You can physically take it and use it.
You slowly realize it was a good thing.
You slowly realize that what each person who steps in front of you is saying is actually in you.
The spirit of this place is in me.
The DNA is in me.
The spirit that mingles down the cobblestones is something that I can take with me.
If you ever come to Mijas, if you ever walk the streets or sit in the epi, you will feel it. You might not get it, but you’ll know it’s there.
There is something special on this mountaintop. But the amazing thing is that this mountain sends people out. So it’s not only here; it’s in a coffee shop in Texas, in an apartment in Ukraine, it’s walking down the streets of Georgia, it’s in a little village in the middle of Cambodia.
And while my heart is breaking to leave the people of this tribe, it bursts. Because I carry these people with me. We are connected by DNA that is in each of us. We are connected by being apart of this family.
So it’s my last week in Mijas. I’m going to graduate on Wednesday and this journey will be over.
I’m going to cry a lot of tears this week. Not out of sadness, but out of love.
I’ll share more this week about where I’ve come from and where I’m at now.
But I’m also going to be sharing in last glasses of wine, coffee, blue chair bocadillos with the people who reside on this mountain.
(Last things for now.)
Because as my friend Patty Reed says, it’s never goodbye in this tribe: it’s see you later.