life
Courage
Our move is becoming common knowledge now – it seems more people know now than don’t, and it peppers our daily conversations. One of the more common responses is the implication that we are in some way brave to be doing this. . . that the move involves some kind of courage.
For me, it seems quite the opposite. I am much more afraid of who I will be and what I will do with my life if we stay where we are.
I am scared that I would waste the best years of my life predominately in isolation, editing pictures and staring at a computer screen rather than getting out and engaging the world, building relationships, and loving my friends and neighbors well.
I am scared that I wouldn’t create adventures for my girls, that I wouldn’t teach them to climb trees or mountains, for frankly my track record hasn’t been very good so far.
I am scared that I will spend more time staring at a TV screen next to my beloved than talking and dreaming with her.
I am scared that we will raise children who are insulated from the needs and hungers of the world.
I am scared that I will give the girls everything they could possibly want and then some, spoiling them and creating an idea that happiness will always come from having more.
I am scared that I will never be a part of Arianna’s work. . .that she would save lives and I would not share in that joy. Or that she would be unable to save a little one and that I would be unable to share her grief and heartache. I am scared that I would not be able witness her at her absolute best – healing and caring and loving.
In many ways the promise of resolution of those fears, hopefully mixed with a bit of courage, makes me most excited about Africa.
For me, it seems quite the opposite. I am much more afraid of who I will be and what I will do with my life if we stay where we are.
I am scared that I would waste the best years of my life predominately in isolation, editing pictures and staring at a computer screen rather than getting out and engaging the world, building relationships, and loving my friends and neighbors well.
I am scared that I wouldn’t create adventures for my girls, that I wouldn’t teach them to climb trees or mountains, for frankly my track record hasn’t been very good so far.
I am scared that I will spend more time staring at a TV screen next to my beloved than talking and dreaming with her.
I am scared that we will raise children who are insulated from the needs and hungers of the world.
I am scared that I will give the girls everything they could possibly want and then some, spoiling them and creating an idea that happiness will always come from having more.
I am scared that I will never be a part of Arianna’s work. . .that she would save lives and I would not share in that joy. Or that she would be unable to save a little one and that I would be unable to share her grief and heartache. I am scared that I would not be able witness her at her absolute best – healing and caring and loving.
In many ways the promise of resolution of those fears, hopefully mixed with a bit of courage, makes me most excited about Africa.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9 ESV)
Arianna
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