Tonight marks the last that I will spend on this side of the Atlantic Ocean for the next 8 weeks. The feelings that are surging through me are of both excitement and apprehension over the uncertainty of what is to follow. Excitement for the new culture, sights, food, people, and experiences that are sure to overwhelm my senses. Uncertainty over the distance between myself and those I Love without the tangible affection to which I am so accustomed as well as the fear of falling short of the expectations that will be placed upon me in a harsh environment away from the comfort and encouragement of home. It pangs me to say that, unfortunately, the fear of suffering has occupied my waking thoughts much more than the sense of wonder reminiscent of the childlike curiosity inside me. In these last hours I come back to one book that I will be rereading at the start of this journey, The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, specifically this quote:
“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second's encounter with God and with eternity.”
At this point, this trip is inevitable. Eight weeks spent abroad and apart from the hearts of home is inevitable. Long days and nights outside of my comfort zone are inevitable. Stress and loneliness are surely inevitable.
And so is God’s presence through every minute and every moment of every day. The piercing reality that the stress, struggle, and disappointment that I will face could never be any less God-filled than the most peaceful life of contentment that I could ever experience on this side of the world in the comfort of the shoes I have walked in all my life. The eye-opening realization that God’s truest intention may be in fact to stretch my heart in directions that make me uncomfortable, that break me down and break my heart for the purpose of building me up into the form that He created me to be.
For the past decade, I have felt my heart being pulled toward serving the underserved, and I have offhandedly and mindlessly dreamed of doing so outside of the United States, somewhere I would have no roots to tie me down and neither habits nor routines to prevent my attitudes and perspectives from opening wide. And here is that opportunity, hours away from being realized. I pray that God would grant me Himself—not just His peace, but every gift that He would offer me—in every situation, in every encounter, in every experience that would bring me to my knees in desperation as well as in thanksgiving for the joys of this world. I pray that I find the confidence within myself and in His grace that is within me to live entirely in the present so that I may constantly grow and move forward toward the finish line he has set for me. Always forward—daima mbele.
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