The Final Countdown

      I leave for Prague in less than a week. I'm having such a hard time imagining that those words are actually true. But I've been ticking things off my to-do list, and despite my expert procrastination skills, I'm actually pretty on top of things. All my documents are official, and my shopping list has shrunk considerably since the beginning of the week. I've even had time to attempt to speak a little Czech. It's really hard, in case you were wondering. I'm betting actually hearing it will help more than trying to figure out the English pronunciation guides, otherwise I'm screwed.
     I'm so excited and grateful that I get to have this opportunity to pursue my very vague yet somehow persistent dream of living abroad. I have also been realizing however, how much I'm going to be leaving behind by making this move, especially in the last couple days as things have really started to solidify into an actual adventure. Living at home this past year was definitely not the easiest, and there were times that I wanted nothing more than to get away from my parents and sisters, but now that I'm on the verge of doing just that, I'm having a hard time working through the fact that I might not see them for a whole year, maybe even more. My youngest sister spent this past week at summer camp, and life without her is much less cheerful, if also less dramatic. My parents have been great, picking things up for me, following me around and keeping me sane when bureaucracy came between me and efficiently completing the tasks that I finally forced myself to do.
     I've had bouts of melancholy, frustration, and nerves that have only grown stronger as my departure date gets closer and closer, but I've also discovered that the best remedy is to spend time with people who know me, and recognize that despite my low moments, I'm unbelievably pumped to go to Prague and try something completely new. Going shopping with a dear friend, trying on ridiculous clothing, gorging ourselves on frozen yogurt, and doing our nails with cheap drugstore nail polish while watching Sound of Music did the trick. So did having ice cream with old ballerina buddies. Doing so makes me remember the reasons I'm doing this in the first place, the reasons that have gotten buried under the real life preparations necessary so I won't have to hop right back on a plane in September.
     "It's better to be scared than to be bored", my former ballet teacher told me yesterday. Those words, those obvious words, sum up so much of my new outlook on decision making. This past year, tutoring struggling readers in an inner city public school, was mind-bogglingly rewarding. I loved my kids, I loved the school I was at, I loved the people I was working with, but outside of school, I was bored. I would come home and have nowhere to go. Well, I'm done with that. I'm done being bored, I'm done with planning out every last detail of my life, of following some path that a much younger self laid out for me. That same ballet teacher, who saw me three times a week for five years, told me that she's never seen me as happy as I was the other day, talking about Prague and the prospect of living abroad. I'm choosing to be scared, instead of being bored. I'm choosing adventure over routine, Prague over Minneapolis. 5 more days. I'm ready.

Blessings

     Last week, my family and I went to Michigan for a reunion with friends my mom has known for 30 years, ever since they all served with Mennonite Central Committee in eastern Kentucky. A group of about 15 young adults, some single, some married has grown to nearly 50 with marriages, kids, kids getting married, and kids having kids. It's a remarkable group of people, who, despite having scattered across the US still make an effort to stay connected and remain a part of each other's lives. I grew up with them, spending one week of summer with them a year; in many ways, they are my crazy extended family. Our weeks are filled with friendly but serious competition, games, laughter, hikes, pancakes, story-telling, worship, and fellowship. As I started telling various people about my plans, I received overwhelmingly positive responses; promises for prayers, hopes for blessings, and encouragement to seize my chance at a new life. This is a very well traveled group: several of the children were adopted from Russia and Ethiopia, and individuals have been on mission trips all over the world. I'm so happy I get to add my name to that list.
     The thing I love most about this group of people -and believe me, that is a long list- is how we all manage to stay connected even when we only see each other once a year. As my departure date looms nearer (only two weeks!) it's reassuring that I can count on them to keep me in their thoughts. I don't mean to say that my other groups of friends are going to completely forget about me, because I'm certain that's not the case. But my relationship with my friends from Minneapolis, and my immediate family will be changing so much more drastically than will my relationship with my Kentucky family. For all I know, I may be able to come home for vacation next summer, and no one would ever know the difference, because that's all I see of them anyway. I don't think I'm making much sense. It's like missing a blanket you've had since you were a baby which slept in your bed every night and missing a toy you got for your 6th birthday and only played with occasionally. Knowing that the toys will be thinking about and praying for me reassured me that the blankets would be too. Maybe I'm crazy, but last week I was able to talk with more confidence than ever about the adventure I'm embarking on. So if any of you ever see this, and you know who you are, thank you so much for your love, your prayers, and your blessings. They mean so much more to me than you could ever know.