From surrender comes transformation, not defeat

At the first BVC info session I attended, Carter Howell (who served in Uganda and Kenya from 2022-23) commented on how “transformational” his experience was, to which the other BVC alums present agreed. Ever the incorrigible theology major, I noted that “transformation is not adaptation.” Adaptation entails temporary adjustment which easily regresses once you leave or “overcome” certain circumstances. Transformation requires a remaking, even if only partially, of who you are. It takes much longer and is significantly more strenuous than adaptation, but it is unimaginably more worthwhile and permanent.

Carter agreed with my assessment. “Around October,” he noted, “there are days where you’re sitting with your [BVC] partner and saying, ‘This is miserable; why did I choose to do this?’ A few months later, you’re thinking, ‘This was the best decision of my life.’”

I trusted Carter’s judgement, but I didn’t understand what this transformation required until I arrived in Guatemala. The best way I can describe this requirement is as a “surrender.” It is not surrender as in giving up a fight, nor the “surrendering” which is often only a brief, easily reversible suspension, but the relinquishment which places something far enough away to make retrieval impractical, if not impossible.

I did not realize how much I would surrender by coming here. First, I surrendered the ubiquity of English for that of Spanish (which I started learning only six months before coming here). Consequently, I also surrendered self-reliance in most of my daily interactions. When my Spanish is insufficient, I must either rely on someone to translate for me (usually Jonathan Hill, who has been wonderfully patient with me) or hope the person I’m talking with knows enough English for us to get by.

A few weeks in, I recognized I also surrendered the physical presence of everyone else I have come to know in my life (except for Jonathan; he has been a Godsend during this time). I’ve known messaging and calling are insufficient substitutes for presence, but living that reality, alongside my struggle to connect with monastics, students, and teachers here using my piecemeal Spanish, made me recognize how much I cherish the active, physical presence of others in my life.

I’ve surrendered minor conveniences: safe tap water; stable, fast Wi-Fi; my night-owl tendencies; taking walks in the cool of the night; and the colder Minnesota autumn and winter. While not as consequential as the other things I’ve surrendered, their absence shines light on what I’ve previously taken for granted.

This act of surrender exposed parts of my life that needed the transformation Carter spoke about. Some parts needed dismantling, like my pride in trying to solve all my problems by myself or believing I always need to keep busy to merit others’ presence in my life. Other parts needed reconstruction, like my confidence in making productive mistakes (e.g., failing at verb conjugation multiple times mid-conversation).

One part needed a unique type of transformation: how I recognize, receive, and show compassion and love. I was not expecting to be shown compassion and patience when I arrived here, being an outsider and unable to speak for myself in Spanish. Thankfully, many of the monks, teachers and students continually make efforts to interact with me, even if they know minimal English and we’re both struggling to communicate. That care and concern amidst struggle is what reminded me why relationships are so vital to our humanity. It showed me I am not alone in this place. It convinced me that it is okay for me to be cared for and loved.

I make no claim that this transformation is complete. In a way, I hope it isn’t. I expect there to be more for me to step into, to grow into. It will require continual surrender, and I must trust that others – both God and the people present in my life – will help bring about such transformation in me, because I cannot transform myself. This surrendering is a call we’re all invited to accept, regardless of the path we take to do so.

That doesn’t even consider how our transformation impacts those around us, but that topic must be left for later articles, conversations, and reflections.