I just entered the date and departure time for our flight from Dulles to Addis Ababa, Ethopia (the first leg of the journey to Kigali) into the first countdown timer I could find via Google: 14 days, 22 hours, 40 mins until our plane takes off. I am so full of nervous excitement, hopes, and fears.
Right now the whole team is busy getting things ready, making sure we all have our shots taken care of, support raised, planning what to pack, the list goes on and on. Despite all these typical worries, there are more things that nag at the back of my mind. This will be my first transatlantic flight in almost 11 years. Flying transatlantic used to occur in my life at least once every 2 years, if not more frequent. But since my dad retired from the military, we've been stateside for nearly a decade. The idea of flying to a different country, without my family in the same plane, is completely foreign to me.
I tell myself I've done this so many times, but really I haven't.
Never before have I gone somewhere without having a home base come with me. Whenever I went abroad for a new posting with my dad, the whole family came, as did all of our things. We were making a new home. I knew there would be an American community for me to belong to. This time is completely different.
This time, I have no idea what to expect. I'm worried about having to be vulnerable, love on strangers and then leave them, traveling with a passport that doesn't have the word "diplomatic" across the front. As someone who prides herself in being a well-seasoned traveler, ready for any challenge, able to adjust easily to any situation, these concerns are unexpected. But this trip is so unlike any other I've been on previously. Before I was going where I was told, following my family. This time, I'm going on my own initiative, because I feel called to be Christ's hands and feet. I'm not going with the safety net of my family or other military brats to fall back on.
When I lived on base, or on a compound, we the country surrounding us outside the base was called "the economy" or "off-base." Us kids talked about going out into the economy like it was a big deal, a special occasion. It wasn't necessarily something you did everyday. You only went off-base for something specific. The base was our home, our shelter, our piece of America in a foreign land. We only had to immerse ourselves in a foreign culture if we chose to leave that. I don't get that choice in Rwanda. I will be surrounded by a foreign culture nearly 24/7, completely out of my league the whole time. I will be challenged, stretched, tested in ways previously I never have been.
But I relish the opportunity to grow. Grow without my parents holding my hand. Grow without a familiar community to hide behind. Grow as an adult. Grow in Christ. Grow with an amazing group of ladies supporting, encouraging, and growing right along side me.
14 days, 22 hours, 19 minutes.
-kirsten
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