The past few weeks I’ve been praying and dreaming and talking a lot about going on a really big adventure. One that seemed so big, I couldn’t wrap my head around actually going.
The bittersweetness of the adventure would require that I go alone. Not alone alone, but with a group of people I’ve never met before. And said adventure is half way around the world. On a continent I’ve never visited – in a matter of days, which means less time to mentally prepare and pray.
So knowing what I know, I’ve really been digging in and asking a lot of questions of myself and others who know me well on whether or not I can do this. I spent several days sure in the fact that I could not do it and very uneasy at the thought of going at all. And then I finally concluded ‘nope, I can’t do this for a million little reasons and counting’ and in that same moment I knew that’s exactly why I have to go. I have to take a leap of faith and trust that God is good, He is who He says He is, and wherever I go, He will be there with me. When I feel that I can’t go on, He will scoop me up and carry me.
I have a slight fear of flying that stems from a major fear of sitting in a small seat between strangers for hours on end. Something about the whole relinquishing control to a pilot that I can’t see and have never met scares the daylights out of me – combine that with being in an airtight space designed for nothing bigger than a toddler and all sense of hope is lost on me.
But I’m going. Far from the comfortable space that I call home. I’m going to this new place, to this new country, and for the first time in a long time – I have no idea what to expect when I get there. (Oh, and it’s just in – I have the middle seat.)
Please pray for me.
Africa here I come.