Almost two years ago, I was sleeping in a sleeping bag in the middle of my bedroom at my house in Rock Hill. Everything was packed, ready to go. And I was sad. Overwhelmingly sad to be giving up all of these things that I worked for. And I was scared. Scared of the unknown. Of those things that I was trusting God to take care of, without knowing how he would.
Tonight, my bags are packed once again, and again things are uncertain. I'm spending the next couple of months with the Appalachia Service Project as one of the Staff Chaplains. It was one of those decisions I made, knowing that this would be the last summer that I had the luxury of doing something like this. And once again, I'm scared. Scared of the unknown.
I literally do not know where I'll be sleeping in 3 weeks. My dog is not allowed, so she won't be with me, either (if you so much as follow me on Twitter, you know how big of a deal this is to me). Every semblance of steadiness that I've had for the past 2 years will be gone for 10 weeks.
But this is practice in instability. I haven't reflected on my experience at Buckhead Church much, but what I can tell you is that I constantly felt off balance there. From the time I walked in, I felt like someone was holding me slightly tilted, not letting me stand upright but not letting me fall. And I never found that balance. So, having to once more be in a state of constant unbalance will be good for me. It will stretch me and pull me in ways that I've only slightly been stretched and pulled before.
So, here goes. My bags are packed. My puppy is sleeping for the last time in my bed (at least for 10 weeks).
Let's see where my balance really lies.
