It hit me tonight. I don't know if it was playing at the park with Grace and Emma or talking with my Mom after her leg surgery (which went really well, by the way!), but hit me it did.
I'm leaving on Thursday morning. I won't be coming back until the end of September. That breaks my heart.
Part of me feels like I should be more grown up than this; like I should feel ready to be independent and on my own. But I'm not. I'm not ready. And tonight I feel like a ten year-old girl lost in the shopping mall: away from her parents, away from the safety of their side.
I'm not sure what Namibia will hold for me. I love a good adventure, that's for sure. But so far away? Yes, so far away. And for so long? Yes, ten weeks. I'm longing for assurance that I will love it, that I will not want to leave, that I will be having so much fun that I'll be too busy to miss the ones I love. You know, like going to camp for a week. But I'm not garenteed that.
I'm afraid of time alone right now. Too much time to think and be silent. Too much time to miss my family and feel like a little girl.
"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul..." Psalm 23:1-2
