On the Move

Four days. It's crazy. I drove by the airport the other day and was visualizing myself and my team walking through the airport and saying goodbye and all that other fun stuff (Parting Words from the LOST soundtrack was playing). As I did so, I was made exceedingly aware of the fact that all that I see, all I know, all I have, all that I taste, smell, and feel would not be available to me for the next 3 months. The very interstate which I was driving on, which I drive on 3 or 4 times a week, I wouldn't see for 12 weeks. Not that I care about the interstate, but that loss of familiarity, of comfort was made powerfully present to me. I was talking with Preston the other day and he said, "I probably haven't been away from any of the guys for 3 months since... I was born."
I think school had been a mental block for me up until that point. But no more. I wish I could tell you that I had some flash of insight at this point, some romanticized vision of things that brought an overwhelming sense of peace. But I didn't. And I haven't. At this point, I think our team has heard the least about what things will be like over there. I don't say that to complain, it's just that after hearing certain things about the other teams, such as Michael and one of the three girls on the Romania team having to live alone or the Vidrare team having to cook all their own meals, it makes me wonder what sort of things our team hasn't heard yet.

Two things stand out to me this week and in previous weeks. The words of two great men. The first:

"Those who are living in anxiety and fear have no time or energy for the common good."

These are the words of Walter Brueggemann, who is a renowned Old Testament scholar. He's referring to the practicing of neighboring. We all have fears and anxieties. Some understandable, some not. But I pray that we never cling to our lives so tightly that our fears and anxieties ever get us to the point where we're so scared that we forget about those who Jesus called our neighbor.


The second:

"We're beaten and blown by the wind,

blown by the wind,

And when I go there, I go there with You

It's all I can do."

These are the words of Bono, in Where the Streets Have No Name. With all the stuff I have to do before I leave, I feel a little beaten, a little weathered down by the wind. Some things I feel guilty about, some things I haven't handled as well as I could've or should've (I still don't know a lick of Bulgarian). But all I can (ever) do  is go with God where He is taking me, because He is on the move. And I truly am excited. How could I not be? I hope my somber demeanor in this post hasn't made the reader doubt my eagerness, surety, & joy in going. But I guess all I'm saying is that it probably won't be easy.


-Jake