Surf's Up!

My room is a complete disaster. I'm packing for three months AND moving out of my room at the same time. Those two things should never happen simultaneously. I believe that this chaos will eventually turn to order... I believe... I believe....

While I was sorting through my stuff this afternoon I was suddenly gripped by the realization that I'm leaving my home, friends and city and gallivanting around Thailand, leading a group of eleven students for THREE MONTHS. THREE MONTHS!!!

That's a long time to be day-in and day-out leading a team in a foreign country. I was suddenly overwhelmed by all the things that could go wrong, which resulted in me having a strong desire to empty out my suitcase, sit on it and tell my co-leader I'm not going.

How am I going to handle all that responsibility? I'll be in charge of making sure these students are fed, kept busy, have a place to stay, and don't get lost in foreign cities. I'll have to help them navigate three international airports, busy foreign bus stations and possibly train stations too. I'll cram them into taxis, bicker with the driver for a fair price and hope they get there in time.

If things go well, it will be a miracle.

And I'm expecting a miracle. I'm pretty, stink'n confident that we'll come back just fine, with great God stories, bellies full of delicious Thai food and be happy as clams that the three months went so well.

But I'm still scared.

It's like surfing. I'm a complete beginner; wobbly on the board and prone to getting dumped more often than catching waves. Surfing thrills me just a little bit more than it terrifies me, which is why I keep going back to it.

There's nothing quite as terrifying as being on the water, paddling out to sea and watching a huge wave come in. I do a quick mental calculation and determine that yes, I am about to die-- the massive curling wave is perfectly positioned to land on my head.

What follows is a frantic paddle session to avoid being in the crash zone. I see it cresting but I'm still in the wrong place. It's terrifying. Fear grips me as the wave towers over my head and I'm pretty sure I scream involuntarily. I get ripped off my board, thrashed under the wave, twisting and turning, head-over-heels-over-sideways and under. Many disorienting seconds later I pop up to see another death wave headed for me.

I suddenly resent the fact that they travel in sets. More thrashing, more tossing. But I survive. I'M ALIVE! Getting tossed around isn't my idea of fun, but I'm certainly enjoy the fact that I lived through it.

And after all that pounding, there's always, eventually that sweet wave, the one I'm perfectly positioned for and I'm able to catch. For a moment, as my board cuts through the water, I've harnessed nature, captured its rolling energy, letting it propel me over the water. It's glorious. Thrilling. As terrified as I was before I'm now giddy with excitement.

Yup, surfing is terrifying. Legitimately scary. But I do it because I know there are epic moments to be experienced that I really don't want to miss out on.

It's the same with this trip to Thailand. Right now, I'm looking up at the cresting wave that's headed straight for my head and my stomach is dropping. I know I'm going to get tossed, thrashed and pounded by culture shock, by leading a team, by trying to remember what eleven people need.

I know I'm being handed a lot of responsibility and I'm not sure how I'm going to walk it out. Will I be a stressed-out leader? What happens when I have a bad day or am so tired I don't want to go shopping for dinner much less talk about how so-and-so is offended by such-in-such because she said this and he said that.

But at the same time I know it's worth it. There are going to be epic, thrilling, glorious times that will make me so excited I wont be able to contain myself. I know God will move in amazing ways and I can't wait to witness it.

It's going to be epic.
Surfs up.
Now grab your board and go face your fear!