If you asked me how I’m doing in these last 48 hours before I leave for the race, that’s what I’d say: It’s sort of like putting 18 giraffes into a smart car and then asking the driver to stop swerving.
There’s just so much going on in my head that it’s become impossible to function like a normal person, so I’ve decided to quit worrying about normal (one giraffe evicted).
The other night I really wanted frozen yogurt for dinner…so I got it, because this is America, and I can.
But seriously, how do you say goodbye to your friends, family, church, bed, car, alone time, movies in English whenever you want them, reliable internet, etc. for a year?
showing support for mama!
Are you supposed to try to explain to your 3-year-old niece that she wont see you for a long time so you need a big hug from her? I don’t know, but I did. I’m not sure she understood, but I got my big hug.
How do you spend your last night with your college friends?
How are you supposed to feel on your last Sunday at the church you started attending when you were 8? The church that’s watched the Lord take every decision you’ve made (some good, many not so good) and used them all to bring you here, to this place, for this time, for this trip?
How do you say goodbye to the parents who graciously let you live with them rent-free for the past year while you saved and support-raised to race?
The answer to all of those questions doesn’t exist in words for me.
It’s too much to take in, and too important to shut out, so I’ve just been walking through it – soaking it up and praying for a love big enough to hold onto it all.
I gave away my pet rabbit, I let my niece see me cry, I gave my sister an extra hug, I ate FroYo for dinner, I spent 3 hours at my Grandma’s house sitting and looking at pictures with her, I watched the Hokies’ first victory of the season with my dad, I took a 20-hour road trip with my brother, I sat with my mom while she got her hair cut in preparation for chemo and made her laugh.
I’ve said, and will continue to say, my goodbyes honestly, even when it hurts, and I’ve learned that in order to do that I have to wake up every morning and confess, “Lord, this is too big for me. I need your capacity to love in order to make it through today, because my little heart will burst if I leave it up to me.”
His capacity to love is overwhelmingly huge. He’s stretching mine through this transition, and I’m praying He keeps stretching it for the whole race.
So, as you may imagine a smart car full of giraffes to be, I’m sort of all over the place…
But I know that I wont get on the plane in two days without anything I need (“my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in Christ Jesus” Phil. 4:19), and I know that while I’m gone the Lord is still working here in the lives of everyone I know.
one of my favorite roads to drive at home, I'm pretty sure peace lives here.
I’ve had to take some time to myself, to find some peace and quiet and just be alone, but I haven’t really had a break down and I haven’t really freaked out, and I think people are waiting for me to do that…but I don’t think I’m going to.
I'd love to pretend that my lack of being freaked out to the point of breaking down means it hasn't hit me that I'm leaving, but that would completely negate the work of the Spirit in my heart this past week…I hate packing, so that’s stressful, but WHOA Papa am I excited to see Jesus in such new ways!!
This transition is stressful and crazy, but from the perspective of a dear friend, if being stressed out through this time means that at the end of it I get to venture into the world with A-squad and be part of God bringing His Kingdom to His people, bring it on.
