If there was any way I could summarize 2017 as a whole, I would say it was a year of hellos and goodbyes -- some that left a sting and heartbreak and sadness, while others brought infinite amounts of joy and healing and fun. 2017 was a year that truly tested my limits -- physically, spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. It was a year of stretching me thin, wearing me out, many, many question marks, doubting, and hurting.
At the end of 2016, I made the bold decision to fight for what I wanted. I knew what the Lord wanted me to do and it took so much in me to obey His call in the midst of the loudest clamor of chaos. I graduated college in May 2016 and went on my third week-long trip to Honduras in June. There was this calming assurance and peace telling me that I would be back. I usually cry once the plane is off of Honduran soil, but that time, flying back to Kentucky, I wasn't afraid. There was a certain confidence that carried me into a time of desire but patience of returning to a country that has time and time again stolen my heart since 2014. It felt as though people were screaming lies at me, exclaiming this was the worst decision I could ever make.
"But you have to get a job!!"
"Casey, you have to grow up sometime."
"How are you going to pay for it?"
"You need a plan for when you get back."
But there was not a sliver of doubt in my mind that this was it. I knew this 4 month internship in Honduras was made for me. Teaching experience, Spanish, investing in high-school aged kids, planning Young Life-similar events, Honduras. It was everything I had ever wanted up for grabs. I told myself no for so long. I listened to the lies. I believed that I was just "putting off growing up" like everyone had thought. I was afraid of what people would think. And it seemed as though the exhausting effort put into the job search for the 6 months straight out of college, the interviews, the confusion, the babysitting, the dogsitting, the job working in retail was worth it and all of the sudden made sense. When I chose to listen to the One who knew my heart best and shake fear off my resume, I felt free. I was pursuing something I knew I was gifted for and passionate about.
But this new decision, this new "hello" meant a sad and hard "goodbye" to many things. I stopped leading Young Life after 4 years -- a community that I have also been apart for 8, I would miss my niece being born, my family, my friends, helping my best friend plan her wedding, attending weddings, people were moving, etc. There was a pile of sacrifice that sometimes didn't feel worth it to say yes, but I continued to because:
"And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life." - Matthew 19:29I was leaving all of this behind. I was saying "goodbye" to everything certain. Every label I defined myself as, for the most part, wouldn't be true anymore. I wasn't a student anymore. I wasn't a Tate's Creek High School Young Life leader. I wasn't a nanny. I wasn't an employee. I felt like I wasn't a friend, daughter, sister, or aunt because 4 months of my life would be spent away from my family and friends. I knew when I signed up for this, 2017 would include a lot of change. But that doesn't even come close to describing it.
February 2017, I said goodbye to Lexington, to Kentucky, to the United States and said hello to Honduras, to Comayagua, to a barrio named Lo de Reina. For 4 months, this became my home. I said hello to 100+ Honduran high schoolers and opened my heart to the possibility of heartbreak. I shared my life with these kids. I found my life getting lost in a passion for them, for justice, for education, for Spanish, and for Jesus. Every single day I learned something new. Every single day I was exhausted. But every single day was worthwhile and wonderful and fun because of the fullness and grace given each day. I wanted to leave Honduras "agotada" in a good way. I wanted to leave there "worn out", having used every last ounce of energy, time, love, and talent I had left. I wanted to be a good steward of everything I could give because God allowed something to happen that seemed utterly impossible when I was lost in a desert of uncertainty. And I truly think I did just that. I left Honduras on June 10th, 2017. The people that welcomed me into 2017 with a giant "HELLO" were the same people I had to say "GOODBYE" to. It was one of the greatest heartbreaks I have experienced. And once again, this exchange of hellos and goodbyes continued. I returned to my family and friends in the States with a "HELLO", but I wasn't the same Casey I was 4 months before. I was different. I was new. I was heartbroken and whole all at once. But I was terrified.
I was terrified coming home because that uncertainty I left in Kentucky in February was still there in June when I returned. I still didn't have a job. I still wasn't leading. I still wasn't a college student. I had no community, many of my friends (at least 10) were getting married and moving far away, and I was confused. But in the darkness, the uncertainty, the Lord whispered over me:
My God had me covered. In paralyzing fear, He gave me assurance. In the unknown, He knew. He was the only sure thing I could count on. He was the stability, the security, the safety for the spontaneous, risk-addicted, teeter-totter of a girl that I am. But I craved everything He was. And He showed up.“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. The wild animals honor me the jackals and the owls, because I provide water in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my people, my chosen, the people I formed for myself that they may proclaim my praise." - Isaiah 43:18-21
When I was afraid of not having a nannying job (or income for that matter), He sent a sweet family who asked me to babysit again for the entire summer.
When I was afraid I wouldn't find a "real" job after nannying ended, I got a call for an interview after 2.5 months of waiting.
When I was afraid I wouldn't work somewhere where I could love on kids, get teaching experience, and speak Spanish everyday, He brought a job offer from the most incredible bilingual school.
When I was afraid of what this school year would bring, He brought 52 more little "HELLOS" and co-workers that I simply couldn't see eye-to-eye with more that also welcomed me in with the sweetest, kindest "HELLO" in August.
When I was afraid I wouldn't find a new community or make new friends, He provided a large group of individuals from TND (Thursday Night Dinner) and MNV (Monday Night Volleyball) groups through my church in the same stages of life as me, eager to make a friend, too. They, too, greeted me with a "HELLO". And they continue to.
When I was afraid I wouldn't meet others with similar interests that I could connect with, He graciously gave me (and surprised me!) with diverse, fun, passionate friends who are teachers, speak Spanish, love volleyball, care about overseas missions, and love the Lord.
When I was afraid I would never have fun or have a hobby, He had friends invite me onto a volleyball team.
When I was afraid of dating and letting others know all the parts of me, He gave me the courage to not run away from being loved, being myself, and being known. And when it didn't work out, I did my best to do it lovingly and gracefully and honestly. And I did it with no regrets.
When I was afraid the hurt and pain from others' continuous careless words or silence or unrequited desire to resolve conflict would cripple me with frustration forever, He brought a fresh spirit and allowed me to cut those people out of my life and see that I deserve better.
When I was afraid of having hard conversations, I stood up for myself and my heart and said goodbye to people who juggled my heart around and never cared to give it back and own up to their destruction or apologize. I did it with shaking hands and a trembling voice, but I did it.
When I was afraid my brother and his husband wouldn't find a family to adopt from, He breathed Pearson Ellory Coyle-Smith into life and brought her into our family.
When I was afraid my sister and her husband would have pregnancy complications because she was high-risk, He watched over sweet, perfectly healthy Ella Ruth Marshall.
When I was afraid of the newness of my dad dating since losing my mom, He reminded me of the grace He never withholds from me and challenged me to give new people a chance, no matter how much it hurts and feels like you're replacing an irreplaceable person.
In 2017, I learned to dance on disappointment. I learned how to forgive and give new, uncomfortable things a chance and let people love me. I learned how to fight back against my longing to run from being known. I learned to teach, to love, to be quiet, to be vulnerable, to be teachable, to trust, to scream back "NO!!!!" to the lies that entangle me and keep me awake at night, to stand up for myself, my beliefs, what I want, and to take ownership of my dreams. I learned to be unapologetically me. I learned to be proud of me. I learned how to take initiative and say "hello" to new faces and how to say "goodbye" to things or people who are bullies, who hurt you, and who play games with your heart.
I learned how to be Casey. I used to walk around on stilts to stand tall, but I was faking my height, I was insecure and putting on a show.
But I have jumped down from those stilts in fear of showing who I really am, but knowing it will be worth it.
I learned how to be Casey. The Casey who still stands tall at 5'4".
The Casey who is fierce and strong and sassy and talented and ridiculously hilarious and confident and brave and bruised and emotional and has potential to keep growing. The Casey that is compassionate, vulnerable, honest, welcoming, a great dancer, adaptive, spicy, spunky, overly-caffeinated, adventurous, and, as my new friends like to label me, "pumpkin spiced". I know what I want. I'm sure of it. I won't be swayed. I won't let someone tell me otherwise, but I will be open to criticism, because I am Casey, a human.
In 2018, I will fall down, stand back up. I will love and be heartbroken. I will see God work in the impossible over and over and over again. I will never stop being me, but I will change -- in some ways for the better, and some ways for worse. But man, am I so grateful for a Savior that still sees the worst and thinks the world of us. He still sees the deepest parts of me and all the filth, but despite it all, grants me grace -- a second, third, infinite chance to live. And not just "survive", but really, fully LIVE and ENJOY all that this world has to offer.
In 2017 I said "hello" and "goodbye". I hope to warmly welcome 2018 with a "hello" the way all of the new faces of 2017 did to me. Because despite all of the despair of the "goodbyes", there is the hope of a "hello" on the horizon. A new opportunity, a new face, a new relationship, a new job, a new season to come. I am ready. I'm moving forward.
My anthem for 2018: Moving Forward, by Colony House -- give it a listen.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KMioT5A-5xM
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