live simply, and simply live: To be known is to be loved.

Although I’ve adjusted well to life in El Salvador, there’s still a part of life here that’s not quite right. It wasn’t until tonight that I realized what piece was missing. I’ve gotten to know a good number of people here. There’s certainly no lack of relationships. I’ve gotten to know Elsa very well, her family decently well, the soccer coaches pretty well, relationships with the kids are growing, I’ve met many of Elsa’s friends, and I’ve found a good community in my bible study. It’s not that I don’t have people in my life here. It’s not that I don’t feel valued or accepted here. I know I’m cared for. So what is it? What’s lacking?

It hit me tonight that it’s not because of a lack of people in my life, but rather a lack of depth. People here don’t know me. This is largely do to the fact that it is difficult for me to express myself well in Spanish and partly due to the short time that I have been here. It takes time and effort for that to develop. It’s hard to leave a place you are known to go to a place where most people only know your name and maybe a few other facts about your life. My name is Nikki, I’m 23, from Wisconsin, have an older sister, and graduated last December. But what’s the big deal with being known? Isn’t it kind of selfish to want people to know me? To be “popular”? Maybe, but that’s not the kind of knowing I’m talking about. There’s a distinct difference between that kind of knowing and the way I was known in Madison. People here might know about me, but people in Madison truly knew me. To be known about is to be popular, maybe even famous. But to be known is to be loved.

To be known by someone means they know what you are thinking before you say it. You can communicate with just a glance of the eyes. You don’t have to tell them you want easy ice in your vanilla chai tea latte because they already know. They know how you’re feeling without asking because your face says it all. They can simply look at you and know that you need a hug. They know when to talk, and when to just sit in silence. And it’s through these things, through being known, that we feel most loved. It’s no wonder the people who love us the most are usually the ones who know us the best. It's what makes the love of a family so strong.

This is why we can be in the middle of a huge crowd and still feel alone. It’s why we can interact with people all day and yet be lonely. It’s why I can be in El Salvador, and have tons of great godly people in my life, and still feel lonely. This is the missing piece to life in El Salvador. The people who know me best are over 2,000 miles away. They may want to send me encouragement but they won’t know I need it unless I say it. And even then they can send me an encouraging letter but it won’t get here for 10 days. At best, when schedules align, technology decides to work right and they can see me on skype, they may see I need a hug but all they can do is say they’d give me one if they were here. The truth is it’s simply more difficult to feel love from 2,000 miles away.

It makes me grateful for the love of my creator. A love that knows me completely. A love that is never distanced but always present. For the past month, somewhat unknowingly, I’ve been learning to rest in this love.

¹ O LORD, you have searched me