As I sit here in this quaint, little tea shop,
I can't help but be completely overwhelmed with emotions.
11 months ago, l left everything I had ever known.
Family.
Friends.
Home.
I've had the adventure of a lifetime
(and maybe even a few more lifetimes.)
Four days from now, I will return.
There really aren't words to describe how it feels.
I suppose it's a little bit of everything.
Exhilarating; yet terrifying.
Known; yet unknown.
Old; yet new.
I have certain expectations for my return.
I imagine myself being high on life for a time.
That is until I realize that the things I had missed so much just really don't matter that much anymore.
Yeah, community downright sucks sometimes,
but I'm not stupid enough to believe I'm not going to miss it once I'm not in it.
We were made for it.
Funny how perspective changes things.
Right up until our arrival for final debrief,
I couldn't shut up about how many days until we landed in Amurica.
But now that I'm here,
I'm not quite as stoked.
I might be preparing to see my family in a few days,
but I'm also preparing to leave my family.
Yet despite all of my anxiety,
all of my fears,
all of my worries,
I am sustained by this beautiful thought:
God intended for me to return home all along.
Its not like God's up there thinking,
"Oh crap, what do I do with her now?"
The return home has always been the plan.
And he's provided the tools to equip us.
So the World Race is, well,
lets just say its unlike anything else you'll ever experience.
But here's the deal:
it doesn't end when you return home.
You may not be traveling the world with 50 other people,
but that's not really the point.
The point is the never-ending pursuit of our loving Papa,
who is the author and perfecter of our faith.
The return home isn't a new book, it's the next chapter. Question is, what will we let the author write?
