getting ready to be back.

I have loved loved loved some quality time with my family and friends over this break.

But I am finding myself missing my students and looking forward to getting settled back in FL, living by myself with a new team dynamic.

It's encouraging to me because over this break I've really seen the beauty of living "normal" life--not being nomadic, living in one place for a month, another for 4 months, one place for a month, another for 5 weeks, and then another for 5 weeks, and then another for 4 months (this is what my next year looks like)--and have been attracted to it, but I feel that call on my heart to go back.

St. Isaac Jogues is a saint I admire in this area. He was a French Jesuit priest who was on mission in Canada, working with Native Americans (Native Canadians?), was captured by Mohawks, and was tortured. They cut off the two fingers necessary to pray the mass--they took away the most important part of his life. He returned to France and received special permission to celebrate the mass, even with his injury.

But eventually he felt it on his heart to return, to go back to Canada, even though it was so difficult. And he did. He went back. He was martyred there on October 18, 1646.

I will be surprised if I am martyred for going back, but the mission is hard, and I'm thankful for that whispering on my heart that I miss it, and that I need to be there.

He Gives and Takes Away

Right when I think I've given Jesus everything I have, and there's nothing left for me to hand over, I'm proven wrong.

Sometimes He doesn't ask me to hand it over--He just takes it. Which I'm sure is good for me. Alas. It's hard.

20 Questions.

One of the things I've noticed about myself since I've become a missionary (formally) is that I ask questions. Lots of questions.

I ask people about

• themselves-their hobbies, their likes, their dislikes. 
• their relationships-family, friends, significant others, God
• everything about their life.

Basically, I feel like I'm a lot nosier now than I used to be. But I like when people ask me questions--they make me think and feel like I am valued. So I'm trying to do that.

And whenever I ask hard questions I always acknowledge that I'm being nosy and that they don't have to answer.

People almost always answer.

The URL

The URL for this blog is "mishkatelyn"

I know that is weird, but I really like to abbreviate words. And the abbreviation for "missionary" is "mish"
At least, that's the one I give it.

So this blog is about mish life. :)

Jesus must know I love these students

**written September 10**

In both high school and in college I had such a passion to share Jesus Christ with all my friends. The Cross, the amazing things He had done in my life, and the miracles I had seen in others were just TOO GREAT for me to keep to myself. I knew that His Love needed to be shared with everyone that I loved. And loving people was pretty easy. Last year at my college I would walk around campus, my heart breaking for the souls who were living like I was during my "bullfighting days" (pre-conversion days). I loved the students so much that it hurt me to see them turning to the "typical college life" for fulfillment.

And I never thought that when I became a missionary that things would be any different.

But they do feel different. I want to love these students so much, like I did at my old school. I thought these students would quickly win my heart, and I would be so excited to introduce them to Jesus. But I feel almost indifferent, despite how much I want to love them.

So I find myself wondering, do I really love them? Do I really have a heart for this mission? Do I really desire to satisfy Jesus' thirst for souls?

Maybe Jesus is teaching me how to love better (I mean, I hope He is). Even though I don't feel it, I find myself doing things that I definitely wouldn't if these students didn't mean something to me. I find myself sacrificing for them. Sometimes little things, sometimes big ones.

Jesus knows I love these students.

He knows I love these students because on Thursday I played tennis. And tennis is my least favorite sport ever (or at least since hitting myself in the head with a tennis racket in grade school).

He knows I love these students because I went bowling Saturday night (my second least favorite sport).

He knows I love these students because I have not skipped one 8:30a daily mass.

He knows I love these students because I haven't seen one of my best friends since May.

He knows I love these students because one of my best friends is getting married Saturday, and I have missed every single one of her wedding showers, as well as her bachelorette party. And it hurts a lot.

He knows I love these students because I haven't found a regular Confessor or Spiritual Director, and I am longing to be understood and affirmed.

He knows I love these students because I live 22 hours from my family, and won't see them until Christmas.

He knows I love these students because I am missing every single one of my brothers' football games this year.

He knows I love these students because although I've thought almost everyday about leaving Florida, I'm still here.



I could have it wrong. These could all just be reasons that I love Jesus (even though I don't particularly feel that either). That whole "love is a choice" thing is coming into play differently than I thought. I'm not choosing to feel like I love these students, but choosing to do the actions that show my love. I'm choosing to will their good.