Whew.
This past semester was crazy. Going, going, going. Always having to be on top of my game, always ready to perform, always prepared for evaluations, presentations and whatever else came my way. During this time, I did short sprints toward the end of the week, just needing to survive until Friday afternoon so I could just crash.
Next semester begins the marathon. The continued going. Not only will I be student teaching in both a 5th grade and 7th grade Social Studies classroom but also delving into some hardcore fundraising for The World Race (only $14,000 to go...). I can already feel the tiredness creeping up on me as I prepare for my last semester at school and giving up everything I own to go around the world.
Oh boy. It's going to be a rough one.
I'm sitting on the edge of the high dive, ready to take a leap and free fall into the pool below. I'm ready. I've been working up to this moment. I can't wait to actually do it. Finally experience what I always thought of as the future. But I can't jump in just yet. There's a knot in my stomach. What if I fail? What if I find myself climbing down the ladder, shakily holding onto the rungs, disappointed that I couldn't make it and full of shame?
I can only close my eyes and hope for the best.
This post went nowhere near where I intended it to go. Maybe that was necessary.
"No, life cannot be understood flat on a page. It has to be lived; a person has to get out of his head, has to fall in love, has to memorize poems, has to jump off bridges into rivers, has to stand in an empty desert and whisper sonnets under his breath... We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn't it?"
--Donald Miller
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