I'm exhausted. My head hurts. My heart hurts.
… man, this is hard.
Eight months of waiting. Eight months of preparing. Eight months of raising money.
And finally, it's here.
Wait, is this really happening?
My flight to Atlanta leaves in two hours. I'll board my plane, say goodbye to the city I've called home for the past 25 years, and fly straight into the unknown.
And let me tell you, I.am.freaking.out.
This is hard. Really hard. Harder than I thought it would be.
I feel like I'm giving so much up. I feel like I'm leaving so much behind.
Dying to what I want…
My desires, my wishes, my needs.
Dying to everything I hold dear.
Dying to who I am.
23 "Then He said to them all: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. 24 For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it." Luke 9:23-24
So, this is it. Dying to myself in order to serve. Dying to myself in order to put others first. Dying to myself in order to live.
11 months. 11 countries. 45 people. Z Squad.
I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be.
And, in the eternal words of Peter Pan:
"To die will be an awfully big adventure."
See you all in a year.
