Hopes, fears and expectations

It’s time to write the journal entry I meant to write two days ago. I actually wrote this yesterday as I was sitting at my gate in the Atlanta airport waiting to fly out to Louisville. Having said goodbye to my family for a year, I sat in the airport realizing that I will be doing the exact same thing in exactly a week as I leave for Lima.

I’m excited to leave a culture in which you’re defined by what you consume and what you do.

I hope to enter a culture in which you’re defined by who you are.

I’m excited about becoming fluent in Spanish.

I’m excited about learning how to live simply.

I’m excited about not feeling pressure to work, produce and accomplish individual accolades.

I’m excited about teaching people and learning from them at the same time.

I’m excited about gaining fresh perspectives on God, life, values and economics.

I’m excited about learning how to trust God to take care of things I usually try to control myself.

I’m excited about becoming part of a new family.

I’m excited about experiencing love and grace.

I’m excited about having plenty of time to read, write, pray and think.

I’m excited about meeting people who are open to fresh ideas and listening to my thoughts and dreams.

I’m excited about defying people’s stereotypes about white people from the US.

I’m excited about not “needing” a car.

I’m excited about leaving a political climate that hurts and divides people.

I’m excited about leaving a culture obsessed with achievement, money, work and appearance.

I’m excited about discovering who I am and becoming who God created me to be.

I’m scared that my year of service won’t live up to my high hopes and expectations about personal transformation.

I’m scared about being asked to pray out loud in Spanish.

I’m scared about leading bible studies and teaching children’s Sunday school in Spanish.

I’m scared that I have no clue how to teach English.

I’m scared of culture shock.

I’m scared of feeling utterly alone in a house filled with seven people and in a city of 8 million.

I’m sad about leaving my friends and family.

I’m scared about being bored.

I’m scared about being/thinking differently than my conservative evangelical brothers and sisters in the Presbyterian Church in South America.

I’m scared I’ll be tempted to come home.

I’m scared about being robbed.

I’m scared about getting hurt or sick.

I’m scared about becoming transformed.

I’m scared I won’t live up to the expectations of the churches in Lima.

I’m sad and frustrated about having to pay for drinking water.

I’m scared that I might confirm people’s stereotypes about people from the U.S.

I’m scared I won’t make a difference.

I’m scared about getting angry at the world and at my country.

I’m scared (sort of) that my host family won’t be that different after all (wealth, comforts, technology).

I’m scared I packed too much.

I know I have other hopes, fears and expectations, but these are the ones that come to mind as a sit in the airport.

Dear God, please keep me and the other YAVs safe during the upcoming year. Give me clarity to understand your will and the courage to work as your hands and feet in Peru. Thank-you for giving me the opportunity to travel and serve you. Help me to let go of my fears and naïve preconceived notions. Please bless my brothers and sisters in Lima as they sacrifice much to accommodate me. Amen.