No, I am not in Bolivia yet. In fact, I am currently sitting
comfortably in my room at home, listening to the thunderstorm outside. These past few days have been filled with sporadic rain.
I really wasn’t going to start this blog until my year as a student
missionary had officially started. But I managed to come up with a valid excuse to
start it now:
Leaving the states is part of the whole experience. And
goodness, let me tell you, preparing
to leave the states is part of the experience, too.
Today I bought out Sam’s Club. And Target. And my bank
account.
I bought so many deodorants and sunscreens and toothbrushes
and pencils that I’m pretty sure I could supply you and your families for the
next decade or so. You are so welcome.
When I was ten years old I moved from Wisconsin to Texas. It was
my first time moving when I was old enough to understand what was actually
happening. And I distinctly remember my last sleepover at my best friend,
Jessica’s, house. We filled the entire time with “lasts.”
This is our last time playing dolls together.
This is our last time asking if we should wake each other up
if one of us wakes up first.
This is our last time starting the dishwasher together. (Yeah.
That happened.)
This whole process of leaving everything I know has made me
revert back to my ten-year-old little self thinking this is the last time for so many random things.
This is the last time I take a test. (Didn't suffer too much over that one.)
This is the last time I sleep in a dorm room.
This is the last time I paint my nails.
This is the last time I make a Dunkin Donuts run with my
family.
The reality is I’ll be back sooner than I know it. But for
now, I’m about to say goodbye to everyone and everything I know for what, on
this side of things, seems like an incredibly long time.
And, simply put, it is sad.
I really like my life and the people in it. Leaving it all
behind leaves me begging the question
Why in the world am I doing this?
I remember last semester talking to Daniella about all the
stress I was feeling from having to raise the money and buy a year's supply of stuff
and complete the application process and telling her What is so frustrating is that I know I could get rid of all this stress in one second by just deciding I’m not going. It
would literally be that simple.
And, truth be told, I almost did. I had basically made up my
mind that I was staying here and going back to school, but low and behold here
I am again.
Packing and fundraising and getting a million and a half shots and all that jazz.
Because I firmly believe that God gets us where we need to
be. And in my heart I know that next year I’m going to be sleeping under a
mosquito net and teaching in Spanish (yeah... I don't speak Spanish) and swinging
around beautiful little kids who have lived through things I can’t imagine.
And I know that when I am there and when I have grown and
when I have little hands holding mine and little eyes looking up at me I will
think back to this time, when I feel overwhelmed because
I don’t know what all
to bring
I don’t know how or if the
money is going to come in
I don’t know how to
get this weird visa that is so incredibly complicated
And I don’t know how I
am going to bear to say goodbye
and think to myself
I am glad to be here. I am meant to be here. It was worth it all.
