It sets in

I started talking with my folks about getting my plane tickets back home. It's super exciting because it will be a week shy of a year since I left home. I'm so pumped to see my folks and friends, and I happen to be making a UK detour on my way so that I can visit a friend that I haven't seen in nearly two years. Yeah, I am super excited! I can't wait to drive the truck down a country road with the windows down. I can't wait to walk around the farmer's market and eat my apple turnover and slowly consume a cup of amazing coffee at my favorite coffee shop (while absolutely not studying or writing a paper). I can't wait.

But I can wait.

For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to figure out how much time I have left here. Three months. I'm not really big on finality and endings. I don't sit around waiting for them, I don't do countdowns, I don't really do goodbyes. I'm a military kid, and moving is just part of the gig. And yet, here I am dreading this inevitable end. This will pass, and I will really live the last three months of my time here, but I feel the anxiety setting in, and I may as well write it out.

Why be anxious? I can fire off a number of excellent verses to combat anxiety: The Lord your God is with you He is mighty to save, Do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself, The Lord is my shepherd, Do not be anxious about anything but in everything by prayer and thanksgiving, The Lord has plans to prosper me and not to harm me, Perfect love casts out fear... It goes on. God must have made anxiety a focal point of so much of the Bible because he knew we would and will spend an inordinate amount of time freaking out about anything and everything.

The questions and fears really haven't changed since I was a kid: What will I do next year? (Goodness knows I get asked that by EVERY PERSON I come into contact with.) Where will I be living? What about the friendships and familiarity I just spent 8 months building? How will I meet new friends in my new place? And again, what will I be doing?

I am in a pickle.

The reality is that I have so many wonderful options. I am blessed beyond measure to have so many wonderful options. The Lord is saying, "You've got this, you just have to choose. I will be with you when you choose and in every step after that. Stop worrying." I think I will. Obviously, there will be days when that is hard, and for those days, I ask for your prayers for peace in my heart and boldness to make a decision.

glamping

How rugged are we?

Photo cred to the fabulous Ellie Poole.

We decided to go camping. Only, the way that it worked out, we were really "glamping." The knowledge of this term was brought to me by the lovely Ellie Poole, an absolute master of words. Glamping is a melding of the words glamour and camping. We ended up at a friend's house that is midway through being constructed, which was awesome because we could set our tents up under the overhang that will eventually be the deck of the house and there was a wonderful fire pit overlooking Lake Bulera. For dinner we had three courses: meatballs with potatoes and onions wrapped in foil, bread pockets filled with peanut butter and jelly, and s'mores. S'mores are usually a must, but they were all the more necessary this time because our British counterpart had never eaten one before.

It gets even more glamorous. There were two mattresses inside the house that we appropriated and fit into our tents to sleep on. I so wish one of us had gotten a picture of this, but, sadly, we didn't. See, it wasn't really camping, but that didn't mean it wasn't ridiculously awesome.

We stayed up way too late telling stories, laughing, and staying warm by the fire. After a foray to the ever-wonderful pit latrine, we said our goodnights and managed to sleep for a few hours before the birds, the sun, and the people walking along the road got us right back up. What a wake-up though.

I mean, this is definitely in the top three of the greatest "Good Morning"s God has ever spoken to me.

The morning was spent consuming pancakes with both chocolate and bananas in them and pineapple and praising God. There was some harmonica, some hymns, prayer, and just acknowledgement that God is so massive in every way. God cared for my soul so tangibly by providing incredible people to spend time with and an incredible place to be. Round two of me being blown away by God as the almighty creator who can mold lakes and mountains and me.

that time we climbed a volcano

The good news is that this story ends with everyone making it to the top of the volcano, Bisoke. It started very early on a Saturday morning when we all piled into the cab and back of a pick-up truck and heading to volcano-climbing headquarters to get registered and met up with our guides. From HQ, we then drove to the base of the volcano and started the climb. I thought that I had hiked stuff before, but I was wrong. Maybe I wasn't wrong, but I certainly had never hiked at this altitude before.

From the first step I took, my heart was racing, and I was very aware that there was little air to be had. However, I was determined. I dodged massive mounds of poop belonging potentially to gorillas and mountain elephants but most likely to buffalo. I jumped sand bags and avoided mud pits. I talked to my fellow sojourners when I could (almost never). The higher we got, the slower I got. I've never experienced hypoxia, but, in a subsequent conversation with my father, I was able to determine that that was exactly what was happening. My movements got slower and less coordinated, my brain got slower, and, if I stood still for a while, I would realize that I was swaying slightly. 

Like I said though, we made it to the top.

This is my I-made-it-without-oxygen face.

Proud group shot. Then there is that random guy in the yellow polo in the back...

The view of the crater at the top. It was amazing.

On the way back down, it constantly felt like there was more air, which is the best feeling in the world! I was even able to run down parts of  the trail. Unfortunately, the lack of oxygen was still taking effect on my coordination abilities. I wiped out not once, not twice, not even three times. I wiped out seven times. I actually said out loud, "I don't understand what's happening. This isn't me!" I also remembered to actually look out and see what I could see from the top. God's creation is insanely wonderful.

Tiny people up ahead of me and a massive outlook.

Can you even believe this much green?

This picture is proof that Mary and I made it back down still looking fresh. 

That's how we do it.

So, this is where I find myself blown away by the creativity and detail wrought by the hands of a God who made me, too. I find it hard to reconcile the beauty of a place that has experienced so much pain, but I know that God is so much greater than any of that. I am blessed to be here.