I can’t believe I have less than four weeks left in America. I’ll meet up with the my Squad in Atlanta in less than Four. Short. Weeks. And 30 days from now, I’ll be in Cambodia. That’s really hard to wrap my head around.
Everyone is getting ready to head back to school or starting new jobs or getting engaged. While I’m arguing with my doctor about how I just don’t have room for 325 malaria pills in my backpack. I see the new apartments, straight off of pinterest, that my friends are moving into and I get envious. Which sounds so crazy because all I have thought about for the past 9 months is this amazing adventure I’m about to go on with God. And now I’m just a couple weeks out, and I’m freaking out!
Alright that might be too strong of a word.
Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited for The Race. My squad is amazing, and I am so very sure this is the best squad yet. I look at my backpack tucked away in a corner and debate whether setting up my tent for the heck of it would be strange. I think about the crazy miracles that can happen when we step out, and I literally can’t wait. I am so humbled that The Lord will allow me to be apart of this. But there are other emotions mixed with excited.
Hesitant. Fearful. Doubtful.
All those would also accurately describe my heart at the moment. And then once I admit to those feelings another one comes, Guilt.
It’s because I’m the one going on this adventure that I don’t get to be scared. This is what I want. This is what I asked for. This is what God has called me to. I’m not suppose to be scared. I’m not the one who is suppose to be sad about leaving because this is what I signed up for. So buck up.
But when I quiet my soul, when I dare to see if there is anything else besides lies to listen to, I hear a quiet whisper.
It happens when I’m sitting in my newly emptied apartment crying over how good God was in such a now sacred space. It happens when I’m standing at the edge of the ocean thinking about the mysteries that are far past the horizon. It happens when one of my best friends gets engaged and I can’t even fathom how hard it will be to not be with her on her wedding day. That’s when I hear The Whisper.
The Whisper tells me He can and will be good in other places. He reminds me that past the horizon isn’t a mystery to him. He pulls me closes and tells me He knows exactly what He’s asked me to give up.
He reminds me of Abraham. How with confidence he tells his servants he and his son will return from the mountain. But as he climbs higher, gathers wood, builds an alter, ties up his son, and holds up the knife, his heavy, anxious, obedient heart was waiting, listening for the comforting words of his Lord.
I think about how hard is to leave something so good and realize that my travel buddy is Goodness himself. He is the same one who remembers that all I am is dust, sometimes emotional dust. He is the same one who sweated blood before he fulfilled his purpose.
Leaving is incredibly hard right now. But the crazy thing is that it’s only hard because he made it hard. It’s hard to leave something so good behind, but he is the one who made it so good. All I have to give him is what he’s already given me. And with each passing day, leaving it all behind gets harder. But my heavy, anxious, obedient heart is here, waiting and listening for the comforting words of my Lord.
And His words to my fickle heart is that it is worth it. It’s so incredibly worth it.
