"Dance then, wherever you may be,
I am the Lord of the Dance, said He
And I'll lead you on, wherever you may be, 
And I'll lead you all in the dance said He."

You experience a really weird set of paradoxes when you leave for the
     World Race in 12 days.

 

Time sort of seems to have stopped,

     because that last day will surely never really get here.

 

And at the same time, 

     you can’t figure out how the time is slipping away so fast, 

     almost unnoticed.

 

You alternate between crazy excitement 
     and mini panic attacks, 

     because that

     taxes

     insurance

     gear

     bank stuff

     car stuff

      …won’t get done on its own.

 

And you have a whole new appreciation for the expression

     “Getting your affairs in order.”

 

You stare in disbelief at the various

     “necessities”

     (which are currently scattered all over your bedroom floor) 

     that you are going to fold and smash and squeeze and cram in your pack

     (with the help of your Tetris-minded sister and back-packing cousin)

     and still keep it below 40 pounds.

 

Cipro, Z-pack, warm clothes, Bible, cold clothes, towels, Doxycycline, toiletries,  
     sleeping bag, 70 liter pack, tent, sleeping pad, mess kit,
     bungee cords, flashlight, water bottle, camera, Braves hat, shoes

     ….and on and on.

 

And you think

     What if I just show up with a toothbrush and a pillow and my Bible?

     Would things really be that much harder without all this junk?

 

You realize that what you really want

     is more time with those you care about

     because what if your grandparents get bad health news?

     or your old, beloved family dog starts failing?

 

And all that other “stuff” that needs to get done

     suddenly is just a prayer of “Father, walk me through it, 

     and I know it will all be fine, 

     because You want me to go.”

 

“When in Rome!” (or Lewisville or Charlotte, really)

     becomes a constant reprieve

     because you won’t be here much longer.

 

So you eat birthday cake for breakfast, 

     watch a movie you have seen 100 times, 

     cycle towels through the dryer 3 times

     just to pull them out and feel their warmth

     over and over.

 

You hope and pray and trust God

     that somehow there will be time and strength

     for all the goodbyes

     and hugs

     and tears

     and conversations that need to happen

     so that you can have peace.

 

And trusting that He will give you peace, 

     even if some of the goodbyes

     somehow end up not happening
     at all.

 

Then you hear a song from training camp

     and talk to your team mates

     and watch a World Race video

     and see the orphans and widows and homeless…

 

And suddenly you feel that bubbly, child-like excitement, 

     and faith

     and your Father’s arms around you

     and the knowledge that He is going to use you to build His Kingdom

     and love His children

     in places where they may have never even heard the name of Jesus.

 

You realize that it is all just a dance, really

     in which God stuck out His hand and said

     “Don't let go of my hand, baby girl. Follow me. I want to take you
      somewhere new. 
      In the world, and
      in our dance.”

 

So you spin around,

     turn up the music, 

     call and make plans to see a good friend on Friday, 

     touch base with your awesome team, 

     and start blindly cramming stuff in your pack.

 

Hopping on a plane in 12 days to dance around the globe holding tightly to my Heavenly Papa. 

 

Never felt so blessed.