TWO WEEKS FROM now I will be in Colombia.
Even as I write this, words are bouncing off the walls of my mind like popcorn kernels in a pot. Excited. Nervous. Longing. Wonder. Howwillifitmyshoesintothissuitcase. Surreal.
The tension comes from simultaneously knowing what to expect and not knowing what to expect. Meaning, I expect to be in the honeymoon phase for a few months, love speaking Spanish, miss my family and friends, miss pizza and Target at some point, probably get diarrhea, probably get sick of the humidity and want to put off the farewells at the end of my year in Barranquilla.
Realistically, I have no way of knowing if any or all of the above will happen. I have no way of knowing what will happen, period. So this is extremely thrilling and absolutely terrifying.
For me, one effective coping mechanism for worrying, besides prayer and denial, is to look at the big picture. I bring to mind the hopes I have for my time in Colombia: to grow, to learn, to flourish, to love.
To grow more fully into the woman God calls me to be.
To learn new skills and ways of being.
To flourish despite, and because of, unfamiliarity, discomfort, unexpected commonalities and new relationships.
To love the people I meet in Barranquilla.
No matter how many hours I put into Rosetta Stone this week or how many extra socks I pack, God is making something new, and God is going to surprise me.