"I suggest you try to sleep."

When we got on the plane for our trip, I hadn't mentally processed that the flight was 18 hours and what that really meant.  I was so amped, anxious, and nervous, but definitely a novice to long flights.  We boarded our flight in Atlanta with our motley crew of 14 Grace Pointers, lead by our Missions Pastor Kyle Burkholder, former Jo'burg resident and expert for our trip.  I sat in the middle seat between Jeff and a small South African girl.  I was excited that my cultural experience would start early, imagining after a full day strapped in adjacent seats, we'd end up pen pals at the very least.

We got in the air and I wish I could remember what time it was that they turned out the lights and declared over the loudspeaker that it was night time.  All I know is that just because you pull all the windows down and turn off the lights, does not make me forget that it's the middle of the afternoon and TRICK me into thinking it's bedtime.  Especially since we were running on adrenaline.  So, lights are out, and Kyle says to us, all smart-like, "I suggest you try to sleep."  We laugh, and start watching movies and getting to know each other while he crashes as though he didn't just finish eating lunch.

Fast forward to the REAL middle of the night.  There's a button on the back of the seat that gives you the time remaining on your trip and provides a long arched line along which a little plane travels over the big blue ocean so you can track your trip progress.  Um... that's a lot of water.  Time remaining: 12 hours.  I watch "The King's Speech" in its entirety.  Time remaining: 10 hours.  I try to watch "Babies: the Documentary."  Way too many boobs.  I get embarrassed and turn it off because I think people are looking at my screen.  Time remaining: 9.25 hours.  I watch two documentaries, play about ten games of "Memory", write in my journal, lament the fact that had I lost that last fifteen pounds I TOO might be able to curl into a ball and lay my head on the food tray, but alas, I did not.  Bending was not happening. 

Anyway, when I finally decided to close my eyes and managed to fall asleep, the lights come on and people start opening their windows.  I'm so confused.  Kyle is all awake and his body is all fresh and adjusted.  We all look like college kids who've overslept and Mom's pulling back the shades telling you it's noon.  Time remaining: 6 hours. 

I start to panic.  I can't do this.  What is something happens?  When is that freaking little plane going to be over land?  Why did we BOTH come?  Should one parent have stayed behind with our kids?  Why in the world did I give up soda when I had this flight ahead of me, and why do the cups they bring you hold only 2 ounces??  And why won't my future South African pen pal even look over at me?

I decided to take a deep breath and journal about what I expected from the trip, what I hoped to learn, what I wanted God to do (I'm sure He'd appreciate me providing Him an agenda), and what I was feeling about our decision to follow His call, and all the things He had already done to show His hand was ALL over this trip.  I'll post what I wrote in my next blog entry. 

Re-reading my first journal entry is like when you've become a Mother, and then you go back and read the words you penned right before the baby was born.  You realize you had NO idea what you were about to experience.  You had such low expectations for the blessings you were about to receive.  You realize you were so naive about the challenges you'd face and the difficult choices you'd soon be forced to make. 

Most of all, you couldn't even fathom how this child, this gift, would bring you so much closer to understanding the fullness of the unconditional love of God.