Going back is weird. I don’t really think we were ever meant to go backward which is why going back to the place you once called home feels so overwhelming and strange.
Before I came back to Canada, I didn’t think about how I’d feel when I couldn’t say, “I live in Peru” or when I couldn’t speak Spanish to people or take pictures with my monkey; all things that made me special and different in the eyes of my friends and people from North America. I didn’t think about how that would affect or bother me. But now that I’m home, I’m realizing how much hope I put in those things.
I put so much hope in being “different” that now, being normal makes me sad. This may be conceited but not having those things that make me different is hard to get used to and I’m slowly realizing how unhealthy it was for me to put so much hope and importance onto those things.
My identity should be found in Jesus, I know that in my head and in my heart but time and time again, I find myself putting my identity into other things, things that go away, things that don’t last.
I’m constantly learning that I can’t earn my worth, there’s nothing I could do to make my worth more or less, ever.
The only thing that gives me my worth is Jesus and his unchanging, unconditional, perfect love for me. That is the only thing.
It’s not the wealth I could acquire.
It’s not the things I have.
It’s not the moments I experience.
It’s not even the people I meet.
Because all those things will eventually disappear.
The only thing that will last is Jesus, only Jesus and that’s what I’m holding onto.