Neither here nor there
I hesitate to write this. I hesitate because I'm not sure it is relatable, and what good is a story that you cannot find yourself in. I only know that this is part of our journey, a part that I may someday forget, and I don't want to. Because it's important to remember the moments that change you.
This week marks a year since Tim travelled to Nicaragua with a small group of guys to plan a summer trip. When he returned, he knew with certainty that we were being called in some capacity to advocate for New Life. I suppose I should have been scared, but I think relief was a better descriptor. There was finally an answer to the unrelenting pull to that country.
To see where we are now in this process is nothing short of amazing. It has been a year of unbelievable transition, and we still have a few months to go. It seems a long time to be neither here nor there, but I am grateful for the time that we have had to adjust. These series of small steps have brought me to the place where I no longer freak out in the middle of the night imagining my life in a country that I have spent a total of two weeks in.
It has not been easy.
Our departure is near, and we are feeling a gentle pull away from the life we have grown accustomed to. Babies will be born that we will not be holding, weddings will take place without our joyful witness, plans are being laid out that we will not be a part of, and it's a strange thing to see how life continues with or without you.
Tim said it best when he compared our life to a line of cars traveling down a high speed lane. Our vehicle is slowing down to get off at the next exit, but everything we know and love continues on without us. We have already begun our goodbyes.
I suppose this is a necessary step, and a painful one.
I have a dear friend who lovingly calls me Pilgrim; a traveler, a wanderer who journeys a long and difficult way to a sacred place as an act of religious devotion. I never thought my heart would be happy to leave my home and family in Cincinnati, until I reached the realization that my soul would never be satisfied unless I did.
This week marks a year since Tim travelled to Nicaragua with a small group of guys to plan a summer trip. When he returned, he knew with certainty that we were being called in some capacity to advocate for New Life. I suppose I should have been scared, but I think relief was a better descriptor. There was finally an answer to the unrelenting pull to that country.
To see where we are now in this process is nothing short of amazing. It has been a year of unbelievable transition, and we still have a few months to go. It seems a long time to be neither here nor there, but I am grateful for the time that we have had to adjust. These series of small steps have brought me to the place where I no longer freak out in the middle of the night imagining my life in a country that I have spent a total of two weeks in.
It has not been easy.
Our departure is near, and we are feeling a gentle pull away from the life we have grown accustomed to. Babies will be born that we will not be holding, weddings will take place without our joyful witness, plans are being laid out that we will not be a part of, and it's a strange thing to see how life continues with or without you.
Tim said it best when he compared our life to a line of cars traveling down a high speed lane. Our vehicle is slowing down to get off at the next exit, but everything we know and love continues on without us. We have already begun our goodbyes.
I suppose this is a necessary step, and a painful one.
I have a dear friend who lovingly calls me Pilgrim; a traveler, a wanderer who journeys a long and difficult way to a sacred place as an act of religious devotion. I never thought my heart would be happy to leave my home and family in Cincinnati, until I reached the realization that my soul would never be satisfied unless I did.
Beautiful
ReplyDelete