Just a bus

Until today my picture of the next 6 months of my life has been just a lonely tour bus, rundown most likely, waiting outside the sliding doors of the airport terminal. That's all I see. Just a bus. All I know in Africa is this bus. It will take me somewhere, I don't know where because it's a town not even visible on google maps. And then, mystery. It's no wonder that my anticipation and excitement has not been foremost. How do you pack for a six month mystery at the end of a bus ride? What do you need for a mystery? How do you even think about a mystery? So I sit in my room knitting in order to find something useful to do with my hands amid the cloudiness of mysteriousness that all too often leaves me feeling dizzy.
Today my picture hasn't changed, but my heart has. I'm so stoked. I get to go on the adventure of a lifetime. And not even for the first time, and maybe not for the last! All the while I get to meet other people who are going too, or who have been, or who would like to. Somehow the idea of sharing the overflow of our gifts and skills with people who have so much to teach us about faith and patience is the most perfect picture in my mind.
So, I'm leaving kids' club; I'm leaving the girls and my church and my life living with my best friend. And parts of me are actually selfish enough to be sad about this. But as I move out of the familiar and take one tentative step toward that bus, I am washed with the assurance that He who called us to himself, by His divine nature, has given us everything we need for living a godly life. I've got everything I need. And everything, although it doesn't feel like it sometimes, is enough.