Halfway done, yet just beginning.

I’m having a hard time blogging serious things while I’m here in Scotland.

It’s not that I don’t want to.

It’s just that I already struggle naturally with knowing what to outwardly process and what to ponder in my heart [Luke 2:19], and when I am sitting alone in my room outside of Edinburgh, Scotland, writing my heart’s thoughts, sometimes I can forget that this is a public record. Not a private journal.

On the other hand, you are a part of this story and a part of this process. So I want to tell you the fears and big moments and weepy days and deep knower stuff.

So if you think I’m oversharing, I’m really sorry.

If you think I’m undersharing, I’m really sorry.

If you are just proud of me for finally learning how to share, thanks [Mom].

I don’t want to be a missionary. Never have. I’m a major creature of comfort and I love being able to see my friends and family relatively easily. I mean, Nashville is 3.5 hours from Marietta [hometown what what!] and it still about made my heart stop to move that far away.

What I’m saying is that it takes a super strong human to be a missionary.

And super strong human I am not.

But when I’m in Scotland, I feel like I’m home. I mean, I know I’m not HOME, but it feels like home. It is this strange deep feeling of contentment that I rarely find. In fact, I have only felt this in two other places: Marietta and Nashville. I’ve stayed a month in California, weeks in Costa Rica and Africa, a blessed week in NYC- and while I love those places, none of them have known me the way these three seem to have always known me.

I’m not packing up my life and moving it to this side of the ocean. At least, that not what I’m sensing God stirring in my heart. Instead, I have this feeling of completeness. This sense that I have found the places where my life will be lived. What percent here and what percent there and how many days over there? No clue.

I’m just telling you my deep knower stuff.

It’s also really hard, by the way. Because I miss my family. I miss my friends like w.h.o.a. and I miss Baja Burrito. I’m grateful for Skype, so I can see Rock and hear him say my name and so my co-worker Jeff and I can be idiots even though we aren’t in the same office.

[Modern technology, I owe ya one. You’re making this all work for me, MoTech. Thanks.]

But it’s not the same. It’s not a hug or a shared meal or two hours on the couch watching The Bachelor.

To be BRUTALLY honest, I spend a lot of my thinking time weighing out gains and sacrifices, wins and losses. I picture scenario one and scenario two all the way to scenario fifty-six and I try to feel them each and I have cried on the train more than once just playing things out in my head.

And I think about how scary it could be to build a life around these three cities when I am 30 and single. [Sorry, this most definitely is oversharing.]

But. I also am super excited. I feel weirdly comfortable here and I’m enjoying pursuing friendships that feel real and strong.

So what I’m saying is that this post has gotten FAR too wordy and I love Scotland and I love America and I love the fact that He’s got the whole world in His hands.

So my trip is half finished- 2 weeks down, 2 weeks to go. But yet, in the deepest ways, I feel like everything is just beginning….

. . . . . . . . . .

Most importantly, today is my baby sister Sally’s 23rd birthday! I still remember waking up to go to school and my grandmother giving me a BIG SISTER pin to wear that day in 1988. It’s only gotten more awesome since then. Happy birthday, Salita! Love you.

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