Ripping off a Band-aid

"Miss, do you really have to go?"

"What do we have to do to make you stay?"

"Why are you leaving us, Miss?"

"Miss, don't go."

All very heartfelt expressions of love for me.

All very kind words from people who care about me.

And all very real stabs at my heart.

As the days go by, the reality of my departure in one month is becoming more and more inevitable, for both myself and the people around me.

Last week I had my last ‘normal’ classes with my students, complete with a goodbye ‘lesson’ which included snacks and music. (One might mistake it for a party, but as parties are strictly prohibited in our school, upon further scrutiny, one would find that this was indeed a lesson where students could plan and execute the means to celebrate and say goodbye together… and they did so quite successfully!)

Those who look at me through a screen have a big smile on their faces as they count down the days. And to be honest, I smile with them! I am so excited by the thought of being close to them once again.

Those who walk into my classroom or talk with me at church have sadness in their eyes, and I know my eyes mirror the tears they have. I am heartbroken to think about leaving them so soon. I also happen to spend a lot more time with these people on a regular basis, so this is where I often find myself.

And so, I whiplash between these two regularly.

Thankfully, I have a wonderful community of people both here and there that are patient and willing to walk alongside me and ask me good questions as I swing from one extreme to the other. They have a God-given understanding for my seeming inability to control my emotions as I anticipate this transition while also making my way to the end of a long school year.

I am blessed to have the support I do.

But, while they have to deal with me in smaller bits of time, I'm stuck with me full-time.

And I am quite the handful right now.

And I do not enjoy sitting in my 'feelings,' which is becoming more and more difficult for me to avoid. I’d been pretty successful in going with the flow and deluding myself because 2 or 3 months is quite a chunk of time. Ages really. But now…

1 month.

The countdown continues going down, and now it’s harder to avoid acknowledging it.

I feel like I have been saying goodbye for so long, and I still have one month to go. A month-long removal of the band-aid that has been superglued to my skin.

It feels too long and yet far too short.

It is difficult for me to imagine continuing on in my frayed emotional state, and even harder for me to think of what it will mean to actually say goodbye and get on a taxi to the airport.

So, I've turned to distractions.

I have my checklists to make and work to do. I have random books to read. I have cheesy movies to watch. I have sitcoms to catch up on. I have chocolate chip cookies to make and eat almost entire batches of.

Nothing terribly dangerous about the coping mechanisms I go to, but I will be the first to admit that they are not what is best. They numb me out from the richness of my life right now. They help manage the intensity of the 'lows' I feel while conversely putting limits on the 'highs' that I can feel. As I was considering what this means and how I could go forward, I was reminded of a quote I put on my wall from a sermon I had listened to:

"Being a good steward of your pain... involves being alive to your life. It involves the risk of being open, of reaching out, of keeping in touch with the pain as well as the joy of what happens because at no time more than at a painful time do we live out of the depths of who we are instead of out of the shallows." -Frederick Buechner

If my goal is to live a pain-free life, then it would logically follow that numbing agents would be the best solution.

But, that is not my goal.

Pain and suffering are a part of life that was never intended for us, but are now able to be used and redeemed by our good and loving Savior to make us look more like Him.

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." (James 1:2-4)

"Now I rejoice in what I am suffering for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ's afflictions, for the sake of His body, which is the church." (Colossians 1:24)

I pray my purpose in life would be to joyfully steward everything and every moment that the Lord has given me to know Him more, to bring glory to His name, and to call others to Him.

"'My prayer is not that You would take them out of the world, but that you protect them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. Sanctify them by the Truth; Your Word is Truth. As You sent Me into the world, I have sent them into the world. For them I sanctify Myself, that they too may be truly sanctified.'" (Jesus praying, John 17:15-19)

As I look toward the long road ahead with only the next step or two visible, I pray that I would willingly submit myself to His sanctification work in me. As much as it hurts, I pray for a soft heart to embrace those He has put in my path for this time and the faith to say goodbye.

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.” (Lamentations 3:21-24)

“I called on Your name, Lord, from the depths of the pit. You heard my plea: “Do not close Your ears to my cry for relief.” You came near when I called You, and You said, “Do not fear.” You, Lord, took up my case; You redeemed my life.” (Lamentations 3:55-58)

He loves them, and me, so much more deeply than I could ever dream. That is enough.

Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning.

Thank you for your faithfulness to follow along on my journey. I pray my words would be an encouragement, as I know that I am not the only one who experiences pain. If you are willing, I would love to hear from you to walk alongside you in prayer!

As I enter into this time of transition, I ask for your prayers, specifically for:

• Grace and patience in abundance to overflow from my heart, not just for those around me but also for myself. As well as continued grace and patience for those walking alongside me.

• Good goodbyes, to honor the friendships I've developed and communities I am a part of in the way I leave and to embrace the pain of doing it well.

• Diligence to sit with the Lord daily and lay my burdens down at His feet, not to disregard them or allow them to have power over me, but to acknowledge them and give them to He who is greater than I. “Let him sit alone in silence, for the Lord has laid it on him. Let him bury his face in the dust— there may yet be hope.” (Lamentations 3:28-29)

• Skilled hands and an open mind as I prepare to paint a mural for the school! I was asked to do one before I left and, while I'm very excited for it, I'm a bit nervous having never painted something to that size and being what some call a perfectionist... pray that I would allow the Holy Spirit to walk with me through this process and allow me to release some of my detail-oriented tendencies.

Thank you again for your prayers and time. Your care and love is astounding to me.

Bendiciones!

-Katie

P.S. Just a reminder I am still 'selling' prints of my jungle paintings to help cover my U.S. transition costs, please reach out to me if you're interested in supporting me financially and receiving a print or two as a thank you!