I'm a verbal processor. So in this past month of preparing to leave the country for a couple of years (COUNTDOWN: TWO DAYS), I'm thankful for the friends who have sat and listened to me as I have talked...and talked...and talked in an attempt to work through all of the mess happening in my head and heart. A week or so ago, two of my best friends were listening to my processing, and suddenly my seemingly endless words reached a point of truth and clarity when I said, "To feel the depth of joy in going, I have to feel the depth of sorrow in leaving." Essentially, that sums up how I've been processing everything: I have allowed myself to cry and grieve what I am leaving here, and that has allowed me to feel a deeper depth of joy and excitement in this next grand adventure. In the midst of this craziness, even menial tasks have become emotional – just the other day, I was filling up my car with gas and wondered sadly, “Will this be the last time I ever fill up Robin?” (Most of you know that I really love my car.) I’ll miss the sight of my beautiful Rockies covered in snow (especially at sunset). I’ll miss Target and Chick-Fil-A (especially Chick-Fil-A sauce). I’ll miss being surrounded by the familiar and comfortable. Most of all, I’ll miss the familiarity and comfort of my family and friends who’ve become family. Yet, as I’ve allowed myself to feel this loss and sorrow deeply, I’ve experienced a new depth of excitement and expectancy for the future: for new friendships and relationships, for new foods and languages, for new struggles and uncomfortable situations, and for all of the new experiences. And I feel a depth of joy that can only come from the Lord.
I am so very thankful for all who have listened, supported, and encouraged me during this time, and I am excited to share my future adventures with you all!