And I'm going back to the same city where I've spent my last two spring breaks, and my heart is gasping with anticipation and excitement, and also feeling very vulnerable. Both other years were astonishingly raw and shattered me into a million pieces, dissolving pieces of facades that I or someone else had built up. So I am a little bit tentative going into this year.
Yet mostly I'm excited. Waiting to see what He has planned for this year.
And there is, it seems, no limit to all the things I remember and look forward to. It's my third time, and this will be the fourth year of the trip. Which means that after this trip, I'll be tied for seniority with those who have gone the most times, and that's fun for some reason.
It's a different trip every year, as we work on different things and the group changes. My first year there were three who had gone before, last year there were two, and this year is two again. I love going and watching other people learn to love the city, the people there.
Now I wait, knowing the week ahead will stretched into endless ages, will cut through the rest of my life, and will also fly past in moments that I cannot hang onto. I'm packed. In a while, I'm going to a friend's apartment to spend the night there. And listening to music, of course. For some reason, it's been 100 Years by Five for Fighting.
That song seems ironic on the verge of a missions trip.
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Time to buy and time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
I'm older than 15, with no idea of if I'll have 100 years to live or not.
But I am confident that there is never a wish better than this: to seek His face. That all the days of my life I may live with Him, in the company of His people.
So I keep going back.
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