Month 10.
Actually, over halfway through month 10.
I wrote the date in my journal today and was genuinely confused how it’s July.
The time is quickly approaching for N squad to touch down in the USofA, and I’m stuck between ready or not.
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“Ready or not, here I come!”
I used to scream it boldly across the house, proclaiming that hide and seek was going to end because I was coming for whoever was hiding.
I was thinking about going home today, and I realized my brain is a little stuck…undecided.
The race is kind of a like a huge game of hide and seek.
Some might think I mean that the race, or a gap year, or something like it, is just a reason to hide from normal life for a year and push off having to “adult.”
(When did “adult” become a verb?)
But, you see, the race is not that.
At all.
I’m not hiding from adult responsibilities.
In fact, I am actively seeking and finding spiritual desperation, physical poverty, and emotional emptiness and creating a secret place there.
A secret place for the Father to enter in, bring rest and peace, and stay.
And truthfully, that’s all I could ever want to accomplish with my adult life.
Now, living with 23 people, not sleeping a whole night through, feeling exhausted…
I won’t mind saying goodbye those things when I go home.
I probably won’t be too sad about living in the same city as my fiancé, or going to church in English, or communing with my family regularly.
I might even shed a happy tear when I can spend my Saturday/Sunday adventuring and sabbathing with my loved ones! EEE!
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Creating secret places in Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Argentina, India, Nepal, Armenia, Georgia, Romania, and (soon to be) Spain,
that’s what I’ll miss.
Sitting beside a squad mate, tears flowing in unashamed worship, not worried for a second what they’ll think,
that’s what I’ll miss.
Waking up from a nightmare, knowing there will be someone right beside me that I can wake up and will immediately pray over me,
that’s what I’ll miss.
Sitting in the kitchen of our Armenian hostel/home,
that’s what I’ll miss.
Looking out over the mountains of Colombia, wondering how God did it,
that’s what I’ll miss.
Playing Nerts until my brain moves slow,
that’s what I’ll miss.
Working out, doing a burn out, adding an ab workout, and then doing another burnout (with Bok/Meg/Maddie/whoever joins),
that’s what I’ll miss.
I could go on, but instead, I’ll keep making these memories, writing them down, and getting teary when I think about not having them anymore.
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So, I’m stuck between ready or not.
I’m stuck between –
that secret place, that intimate, quiet, slow space where heaven meets earth, and nothing matters but that moment –
and home, where I have meals across the table from my fiancé, lunch dates with my in-laws or my mentor, and quality time with my dad or momma is just a drive away.
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But regardless if I am ready or not,
I’ll see you soon.
All my love,
HB
