“Here I am, Lord.  Is it I, Lord?  I have heard you calling in the night.  I will go, Lord, if you lead me.  I will hold your people in my heart.”

The time has come.  I wasn’t expecting the call to come now.  Actually, I was preparing for digging deeper roots here for at least another year.  The call came suddenly but clearly.  In a matter of one weekend, my life/future is now changed, for I will be moving to Swaziland this summer.  
I knew the move was coming–everyone knew the move was coming; and I have been waiting patiently trying to figure out when and how to make the transition.  You’d think I would be excited, after all this time waiting for the answer.  But now that it’s here, I’m scared.  What does this mean for my life?  My future?  I was just starting to really find a home here in this La Crescent community.  What about the relationships I’ve built here?  How can I just leave these people behind?  Although I know the move is the right decision, it’s still terrifying and painful.  There are so many things running through my head, I feel a little suffocated.  And the more I think, the more confusing it gets.  Is this really what I’m meant to do?  Am I really ready for this?  
I needed confirmation, so I prayed for it this morning before church.  At church, I literally laughed outloud at several parts throughout mass thinking, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”  The message was about evangelization, and the songs could not have been more perfect.  I even started crying while trying to sing “The Summons.”  But what solidified it for me is a message that I coined as my “verse” and theme for my very first trip to Swaziland way back in 2008.  “Here I am, Lord, send me” was my branding.  So when the song “Here I am, Lord” came on, I could hardly believe it.

Since I’ve made the decision to move, it’s been painful already grieving for what I’m about to leave behind.  While most people don’t see this move as a shock and are extremely excited for me, what those people also don’t understand is that I have grown to love and cherish my kids here just as much as my Swazi ones.  I simply adore the class of freshmen I have now, and my juniors have already chided me for leaving them too early.  Although my heart sinks picturing my life without them, my greatest joy is knowing that I’ll still carry them with me.

I’m nervous and excited for the unknown; I don’t know how long I’ll live in Swazi, but I do know I’ll be back and forth, keeping the connections between the two worlds that hold the two halves of my heart.