fight

The last week and a half have been rough.

I’ve been faced with disappointment, having heard nothing about my visa.

Dealing with identity and unconsciously wondering what I’m doing here; trying to rest in the fact that my identity is not contingent on what I do, but who I am, yet not having truly committed this head knowledge to my heart.

I find myself listening to music in Portuguese and wanting to cry, thinking that one day I will understand and speak this language.

Reading a book about Pelé (the world’s greatest soccer player) and how he helped Brazil win 3 World Cup Championships, I feel my heart swell with pride.

My eyes are drawn towards Brasil’s flag and its colors and what I feel, I think, could be described as love and maybe even a sort of “national pride” if that’s even possible for a non-national.

And while my passport is in Brasil (along with my paperwork, being processed), I am not.

For a brief moment last night, I tossed around the idea in my head of giving up on going to Brasil.

However, in the last month (has it only been a month?) God has been beginning to show me something: the importance of the fight.

The things we fight to have, 
will be the things we fight to keep.

In this “fight” of going to Brasil, it hasn’t been as easy of a process as I originally thought. In this process, however, my heart has responded by crying out more for this country and my passion and my love has grown deeper and stronger.

As a result of this, I believe that when I am finally in Brasil and things get hard- I hit a wall regarding the language, I begin to feel homesick, I grow tired of rice and beans or whatever else that leads me to contemplate booking a flight back to California, I won’t because I would have fought to get to Brasil and I will, in turn, fight to stay there.

Some things in life are worth fighting for.

To me, Brasil is worth the fight.