Welp. I must say, I am extraordinarily bad at keeping this blog updated. It has been too long since it has delighted you with my sensational wit, tear-jerking sentiments, and awe-inspiring adventures . . . Or, at least with a quick jot about what’s going on in my fundraising ventures. And for that, I apologize. There is no real excuse, aside from a few months of true transformation on behalf of life events and God’s hand. I hope to unravel some of these experiences over the next couple of weeks, as I have truly had some eye-opening escapades.
But for now, I will continue the hair raising tale of “Why Norway” with the third installment about my exploits in deciding to head over to the land of the vikings.
I last left you on the giant bed, where I was praying about whether to go forward with YL Norge or MCYM, and where I made the decision to follow my heart to Norway. Now, I had counted on God affirming my decision by either closing doors and making it clear that Norway was not the place for me, or showing up and letting me know that I had made the correct decision. I’m so glad I can count on such a reliable and outstanding God, because He totally rocked my world in ratifying my choice in Norway.
The morning after committing to YL Norway, I was so excited to talk to Kate & Thor about my decision, but I wasn’t able to find either of them until later that afternoon. I spent most of my morning with my new friends David & Kristin Lilleheim (David’s the YL Norge Committee Chair), feeling like I was about to burst with this information about my selection, when finally, I was able to catch Thor for a couple minutes. I shared with him my heart, why and how I settled on Norway, and finally said, “I want to come to Norway.” It was such a thrilling moment, when it passed from my own personal resolve, to a shared beginning of a new journey.
That afternoon, Thor shared with the rest of the Adult Guests, leaders and YLers that I would begin raising money to move to Norway and work with Young Life. It was such a strange sensation and new state of being. I had made a monumental resolution for my life. Now, all I had to do was watch for God’s blessing on this, hoping that in the weeks and months to come, I would be validated in my selection. Little did I know, God didn’t want to wait months, or even weeks. He was already working.
Only a few hours after taking the last group pictures, saying my farewells to my new and amazing friends with whom I had spent a wonderful week lost in translation and growing in relationships, and arranging my last minute travel necessities, I was in the camp van, on my way to the bus station. Now, I had chosen the very last possible bus in order to make it to the airport on time, because I had not wanted to waste any amount of hours I could be spending with my new friends. I knew this was a risky call, but it was something I was willing to chance. If you’re reading this, and you’ve ever had the opportunity to be around me in times of chaos and stress, you might think this was a somewhat unwise commitment, as I tend to become a little frazzled when I have to handle too many things at once.
So, there I was sitting on bus number one, on my way to bus number two, which would then lead to a short taxi ride, followed by a quick small plane trip, ending with a jumbo jet jaunt to Orlando, where I was meeting my family for a mini family reunion. I mean, that leaves practically no room for anything to go wrong. . . right? Ha.
As I was watching the passing New York scenery outside bus number one’s windows, I realized that we were running a bit behind schedule. Okay, that’s fine, I can handle a little pressure. We made it to my transfer station, I exited the bus, and walked into what can really only be described as a scary horror movie gone wrong bus stop, which wasn’t even really a bus stop, and more like an eerie Plexiglased, 800 number plastered, crackling dry walled room, the size of a small bedroom. I don’t even recall there being any chairs inside. Naturally, I chose to wait outside, where I could see any approaching busses which I would happily board with no hesitation. And there I stood. . . waiting . . . and waiting . . . Overhearing angry and short questions, in English and Spanish, about when the bus was supposed to arrive, as it was already nearly 30 minutes late. I was not panicking. I was choosing to trust that the Lord had this allllll under control. I was not fretting, I was not holding back pacing footsteps, I was not going to call the airline to tell them I was running late and try to convince them to hold the flight.
Finally, the bus arrived with a sarcastic applause from the other waiting passengers and many tired sighs. We boarded, the bus jolted into its next leg, and everyone settled into their seats. I was now cutting my room for error time to about a five minute window. Oh dear. This is when the fervent praying began. Prayer for calmness over something I could not control, prayer for no other delays, prayer for the plane being late so I wouldn’t end up running to my gate, etc. We finally arrived at my final bus stop, where I was supposed to have a taxi waiting for me, but, as you could guess, it was not there. I then waited what seemed like an eternity for my cab driver to show, and when he finally did, he informed me that he just had to pick up a friend real quick, and then he would take me to the airport. Um, excuse me? What? Dude, I just explained to you that I am about to miss my flight, and I’m in quite the hurry. But no, he had to pick up his friend in town and then drop him off at his work place. I was stupefied. I mean, just speechless. What do you do in that situation? How should I or could I have acted differently to express to him my acute need to get to my flight on time?
Did I make my flight on time? What becomes of this frazzled young woman just trying to make it to sunny Florida? You’ll have to wait until the next chapter in this hair-raising tale to learn the fate of this story’s heroine.
Stop by in a few days to hear a more up-to-date update about my life and the fundraising process as I journey towards Norway.
As always, thanks for reading!
Until next time,
Keep on loving. Keep on living.
