How Moving my Life to New Zealand for 3 years Changed Me

I came to change New Zealand. After 3 years, New Zealand changed me. Cliche I know, but this ended up being the truth.

This post has been written over the past 18 months. My thoughts, my observations, and my feelings have obviously morphed along the way, but let’s just start at the beginning.

With 50lbs of luggage, a working knowledge of left hand driving, and one solid contact, I packed up what I owned and moved my life to New Zealand. I kissed my parents, hugged my niece, wished my siblings well, and flew. In my luggage was an optimistic, slightly naive, monstrously unrealistic idea that I was going to get a job, in my field, in the first few months. With…one…solid…contact. Yeah. Right. Continue reading “How Moving my Life to New Zealand for 3 years Changed Me”

Better Things Are Yet to Come

mission man2

So, this post may be a little deep, but my blog is also about letting readers into my head.

I’d be lying to you if I told you that I was hanging in here. That I was tough. That I was taking all the bad and outweighing it with the good. I’d be lying because we all know that when things get down to the wire…we think. What if? What then? What now? It’s a very common place for our minds to go. Whether you believe in a God or you don’t, it’s near impossible to fence in the wandering thoughts of doubt. When everything starts crumbling around you, and you don’t have a leg to stand on, a friend to call to, or a hope to cling to…doubt steps in. Doubt that it’ll get better. Doubt that the people you trust in will come through. Doubt that the job you’ve been needing is finally here.

This is a very dangerous place to stay for too long. I would know. Thoughts like this begin to erode at truth. And this is what needs to stay at the forefront: Truth. You see, I began to swim in the doubt. It became a struggle to get around questions like: At what point do I begin planning my move back home? What did it all mean if I leave before I’m ready? Was all of this pointless? Have I failed? How can I possibly face my friends who supported me, or my family who prayed for me? The thing is: I have days when I can’t stop thinking about   these questions. This in no way means I have quit, but it isn’t helpful either.

If you know my journey so far, you know that I felt strongly called to this country and it’s people. It was all I wanted to do for three and half years. Studying, graduating, filling out paperwork, raising funds, and working. This “calling” ran through my veins and I’m sure that I annoyed many of my friends in the process. Living and working here is more than a feeling I had, it is a deep rooted belonging.

Something you will not know about me (because it’s usually only revealed when I’m cornered or get truly angry about something) is that I am very determined and outspoken. I refuse to give up on this call, I refuse to give into these crippling thoughts, and I refuse to stop trying until I have a reason to stop.

Because I am a Christian, I always believe that there are better things to come. Hope. And wow, I don’t think it’s much of a coincidence that my iTunes, on random, is now playing Greater Things Are Yet to Come as I type this sentence. And I DO believe that ‘greater things are still to be done in this city.’ I have to believe that the future holds better things. I am NOT done here. And if for some reason I am supposed to leave…I trust in Truth, not Doubt. I refuse.