Beginning of the end

An entry in my journal last Thursday...

"The beginning of the end" as Jessica Petzel put it. That's where I am at right now. That's where we are at God. That is where this journal is at. It's hard to imagine, these last four years finally accumulating to this week, this last test, this Saturday at 1:00 pm at graduation.
And what do they expect? How should I act? Happy because I am a college graduate? Sad because I should (and will be) leaving all my friends? Scared because I will be "on my own?" Excited for the future? Are the best days of my life really over? (Is the real world that terrible?)

I'm not really sure what I am supposed to feel but I think the expectation of having sure feelings is wrong. I don't really know what I feel.
I know that I am graduating and then support raising.
I know that I have a heart for Honduras and want to go there in September.
Those are the things I know.

Right now I am reading this book, a composite of Mother Teresa's writings. She is talking about her dream to go live among the poor in Calcutta. She says..

"He has given the call to a little child who is unable to fill it- who is already bound to him by so many ties of love, by so much weakness of its own, and yet. He puts those very great desires in the heart of the little child who is nearly lost in them."

I feel like this so beautifully describes my thoughts of it all. For years I have dreamed and desired for a chance to go share my love for Christ and people with those in Honduras. And now I am getting the opportunity to go.
It's almost unreal.
It's almost like those dreams that have been constructed so long inside the home of my heart- bound by other obligations of school, work, family, and church- now those dreams do not know what to do with their new freedom.

I have the freedom to go. For once- I do. And it is just so hard to believe, so hard to really believe I can go. My heart is so overwhelmed with joy, but it's stuck in the awestruck position.

I remember last November God, driving home from Oklahoma, praying to you, crying out to you for answers about my future. "Where do you want me to go?" I would ask. "Where are you calling me? Just call me, God, and I will go wholeheartedly. No doubts. No hesitations. Give me your words."
And you quietly whispered my dreams and desires once again into my heart. It was like you said, "Okay, now. Now is the time to start dreaming. Dream." And you asked me to start praying about Honduras and the possibility of going sometime in the future. And God I was so excited to dream again about going back- so excited that you might have that in my plans. But I was also terrified that the answer would be no-not now.
I was torn whether I should pray about going to Honduras for the fear of being let down and quietly asked not to go by you- my father, my King, my faithful one.

Yet, I prayed. I asked. I talked. I cried. I laughed. I prayed, prayed, prayed.
And in January you asked me to go.

And God, it's just hard to know what to think now. That in between stage, between the decision to go and actually raising the money that will get me there. And God, I know that you are so good and that you will and want to provide for me. But it's almost like in November when I didn't want to pray; when I didn't want to hear no. I am afraid to start support raising, for fear of failing or of being told no.

I am responsible for raising somewhere around $8,000 to go, and I have to trust you that if you want me to go- you will get me the money to go. To me $8,000 is a big deal. To you- it is nothing. You are able to do all to get me where you want me to go-in the hearts and the homes of the poor in Honduras.
Let's go.