Eleven Months.
It seems like an eternity before it begins. And then, three weeks in, on the way to your second country- your realize… I no longer have eleven months left. It never slows down.
It happens, the teaching English, the washing babies, the all night worship… Somehow you end up here. With only eleven weeks left.
This journey is not my own. The story I've lived for the past fifteen months has been very much shared with a special community.
Over the next eleven weeks, I will attempt to express my gratitude. But will undoubtedly fall short. To those who have journeyed with me, you have stars in your crown in Heaven for this. The list of those who impacted my race is, of course, longer than eleven- it has taken a village. Each one of you reading has touched my race and my heart in some way, your prayers, your blog comments (Susie and Terri), and your support made my race what it is. I have been able to love those around me because of the love shown to me by every one of you.
From the bottom of my heart-
Thank you.
•••
Dad,
I wonder this morning, as I write from Ukraine, when you took me to Costa Rica for the first time ten years ago, did you know what you were starting? Did you know what kind of impact a passport stamp, a midnight worship service, "you-stink", and a woman prophesying over me would have?
It all began there, dad. All of this wondering as I'm wandering-
Can't wait to hug your neck in seventy-five days!
-steph
