Two weeks.

on November 8, 2011 in Scotland with 10 comments by

Two weeks from today, I will wake up and eat breakfast with my family.

In America.

How can that be? Didn’t I JUST get here? These five months have crawled and flown at the same time. But nevermind that. They are over now.

I’m walking around and treating every quiet moment like a scene in a movie that I’m trying to watch and memorize simultaneously. The leaves have mostly fallen and the ones left in the trees here are dark with determination to hang on. The sun sets around 4:30pm and by 6:30pm, it might as well be midnight. I stood on Princes Street last night just after dinner in the deeply dark and cold night and looked up at a cloudless sky. The moon was turned up three notches too bright and I just took it all in. I panned around for a 360° view of my daily landmarks that will be memories too soon.

I don’t know how to do this. How to leave. How to end.

I’m a starter. I like starting things. I don’t like endings… especially when endings come with unknowns and confusion and sadness. Everything changes when I’m home. This chapter of my Edinburgh story ends and I don’t know when the next one gets written. This thing that has been building for the last 11 years, living in Scotland, suddenly is my history instead of my future. I have to leave a community that I love, friendships that I want to maintain, and students that are growing in their faith day by day.

I’m sad to leave.

But turn that Annie-is-sad-to-leave coin over and you see a girl who is READY. FOR. HOME. I miss my family like whoa. I miss Nashville and my friends so much. I’m ready for the upcoming weddings and babies and holidays and all the things that December forward holds. And just to be honest, there are also some serious and heartbreaking things going on in some of my friends’ lives and I just want to be there. I want to cook and hug and sit and just be in the same room as the hurting ones.

I told my friend Hannah over chai this morning that I never want to leave Edinburgh… and I want to leave right now.

So as you can imagine, my insides are completely confused. 🙂

I think this is living. Hurting. Leaving. Returning. Rejoicing. Mix it all in a bowl carved out of grace and somehow, you survive.

Days like today I am deeply grateful for eternity, where time and distance and separation will be things we barely remember from before forever. I long for the day when my friends will all be within reach and my heart will be reunited- unlike now, where one jaggedly ripped half lives on each side of the Atlantic.

10 comments

  1. posted on Nov 08, 2011 at 8:24 AM  |  reply

    Oh Anya! I’m so rejoicing and so mourning with you. So glad that you will get to see your family soon. So happy that you will get to walk on familiar streets and DRIVE a car!! But I can’t imagine leaving either. What does leaving well look like? I pray that you will walk that out in these last 2 weeks. May God really show you what leaving well means and what it looks like. I pray that He would take extra special care of your heart as you go and as you return and that you would know that you are in the palm of His hand the whole time. That you would KNOW him more by all the tearing and re-adjoining that you walk through in this next month. Thank you for sharing and being so awesome!!!

  2. merideth
    posted on Nov 08, 2011 at 8:33 AM  |  reply

    Beautiful words Annie. I look forward to eternity for that reason too. I hate distance in all it’s forms, and I look forward to a day when it won’t keep us from all we love anymore.

  3. Michele
    posted on Nov 08, 2011 at 9:30 AM  |  reply

    May the Lord be with you during this transition. Blessings!

  4. posted on Nov 08, 2011 at 10:32 AM  |  reply

    Annie, my heart is equal parts sad and happy for you right now. What an emotional ride you’ve been on. May the Lord encourage your heart these next few weeks.

  5. posted on Nov 08, 2011 at 12:28 PM  |  reply

    Right there with you sister. Praying that the Lord will bless you with immense joy, joy that will make the pain understandable. He feels it too 🙂

  6. posted on Nov 08, 2011 at 1:21 PM  |  reply

    Wow, really? I had just started reading your blog not long before you left. I’ve enjoyed following you on your journey! Praying you have a happy transition, even with sad goodbyes!

  7. posted on Nov 08, 2011 at 5:58 PM  |  reply

    praying for you in this heart twisting and confusing transition! i hear you in all those mixed emotions. overseas life brings all sorts of lovely contradictions.

  8. posted on Nov 09, 2011 at 9:12 AM  |  reply

    I’m so happy you’re coming home to us soon (:

  9. posted on Nov 09, 2011 at 11:43 PM  |  reply

    This is a beautiful post – so perfectly stated…I too have felt this feeling – while on the road with a show – I wanted so badly to stay with my new family, but I longed for home…Praying for you and your time in Edinburgh and safe travels home. Your words on this blog are a blessing!

  10. posted on Nov 13, 2011 at 10:07 AM  |  reply

    This perfectly describes my own emotions too, Annie! Gah. Especially the idea of not knowing how to end things… But thank you for saying, “I think this is living. Hurting. Leaving. Returning. Rejoicing. Mix it all in a bowl carved out of grace and somehow, you survive.” Our God is so good.

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