I know that seasons are a natural part of life, and truly, it’s such a beautiful gift that we get to experience the ebbs and flows of each lingering one. Still, I’m not sure I’ve ever noticed a season shifting as it’s happening. Usually, it’s well after the fact that I find myself standing in a new season, trying to pinpoint when the previous one quietly ended. But as I returned from my trip to Southern California, I caught a glimpse of that shift right before my eyes.
As I exchanged an emotional “see you later” with two of my dearest friends in the San Diego airport and boarded my flight back to Seattle for the holidays, I could feel the weight of change settling in. I knew that returning to Seattle marked a significant step toward my departure. Suddenly, my time at Starbucks had an end date, he last of my American Christmas and New Year’s celebrations were quickly approaching, and the daunting task of packing my life into three suitcases and a backpack was no longer abstract. Everything that I knew was coming at some point was becoming reality.
It felt as though the things that had once consumed so much of my time and mental space (fundraising and the visa application process) were suddenly silenced. In their place came a wave of new tasks, thoughts, and emotions, rushing in faster than I could fully process.
The thing about these thoughts is that they were completely new. Many of them were things I’ve sat with and held close over the past year and a half. I’ve often thought about what life would look like post-fundraising, post-visa application, and post-departure. And now, as I’ve been living out the season of post-fundraising and post-visa application, I find myself anxiously awaiting the step into life post-departure from the States and arrival in Greece.
This anxious waiting for the next big moment sometimes feels like I’m staring at this enviable change I know is coming right in the face. This stare-off doesn’t scare me, though. To be quite honest, I believe it’s a good place to be in the midst of processing a transition of this scale. This stare-off has stirred up a lot of emotions, curiosities, and questions, with the biggest question being: “How do I surrender this specific moment to the Lord?”
If the fundraising season taught me anything, it’s that surrender isn’t a one-time thing; it’s a daily practice. It requires continually laying down our desires, expectations, and timelines, and offering them to the Lord. With every new season comes the invitation to re-surrender, or to surrender differently. Each season teaches us how to welcome the Lord into new situations, emotions, and rhythms we encounter day by day.
So as change and I stand face-to-face, with my departure date quickly approaching, I’m re-learning what it looks like to dream, hope, and anticipate what’s ahead with Jesus at the center. So much of what lies beyond my arrival in Greece is unknown and unfamiliar, but there is a deep beauty in that unknown—a beauty rooted in the proven testimony of the Lord’s provision, faithfulness, and protection.