"All that I am is a product of Grace."
— Andy Mineo
I took it easy this morning. I've found that when you have all your usual school and work obligations plus preparations for leaving the country for six months coupled with attempting some sort of social life, you get burnt out rather quickly. (Also, easily emotional? I think I've cried more this past week than I have this whole year.) So taking a cue from Donna and Tom, this morning was treat yo self day. I slept in, gave the snooze button a few solid wallops. With my hand curled around a mug of coffee, I leafed through the newspaper and read a two chapters of a good book. I didn't bother with any attempts to do my hair, finished an art assignment, and I'm feeling better now than I have in I don't know when.
I wonder, when I look back at this spring (the spring that is taking ever so long to fully arrive), is "tired" all I will be able to remember? Probably. I wouldn't be surprised. The tiredness has nestled deep deep deep in my bones and I suspect the only thing might offer a cure is a month long vacation in the mountains with a cat or two. Also, a heap of good books. I once heard of a man who went to Paris for a few months just to eat soft cheese and crusty bread and read an assortment of books he'd never gotten around to. I could use a bit of that life, I think.
Oh, and I have a date. June 10th. The tickets are booked and it is no longer a vague "oh, I'm leaving sometime in mid-June," but a "holy crap this is when I will get on a plane and land in Africa." So far, frequently asked questions have included the following: If I'm scared (I'm not. My mom has that one covered. I'm excited and intrigued and maybe a little nervous plus a hundred other emotions, but strangely, scared isn't one of those.), why I would want to go to Africa (because...I want to spread the Gospel? I'm fascinated by Kenya? Gap years are the best?), how long I'm staying (six months), oh, and how I am so brave?
I don't feel brave. Not one bit. I am not worthy of the laud I've been receiving, poured upon me like I'm some sort of trail-blazing pioneer. I hope that doesn't sound ungrateful, because I'm truly not, and the kindness of people has left me speechless - but I am only an empty vessel fiercely in need of God to work through me. I am such a wretch, and it is only by the grace of God that I've come this far.
Overwhelmed beyond measure.