On worry, and Spain.

In two days, something big is happeing in my life. I'm going to Spain.

The children's choir that I am in has a select group of about fifty students, me being one of them. Along with the two weekends of concerts in our home concert hall with the rest of the choir, we take gigs in our area and tour during the summer, and this is our year for an international tour.

I have been really excited about this trip for at least a year, and now it's two days away and  i'm feeling some other things along with that excitement. I'm feeling like..

How in the world is it a good idea to ride in a plane for nine hours? I bite my nails as I think about what could go wrong.

How is it a good idea to be away from my home for ten days? I kick myself as I say this while I recall the countless times I have foolishly bragged of my wanderlust.

How is it a good idea to go to a coutry where I can't speak the same language as the people there? I can't completely argue with this one, but I know how to ask for the bathroom, and that's good enough for me.

As much as I hate to admit it, all of these doubtful questions are stemming from a selfish place of worry and apathy.

I know that Spain will be good. Spain will actually be extraordinary, once in a lifetime, incredible. I know that. But what I feel like doing right now is curling up in my bed and never being adventurous ever again. I want to pack every single blanket, piece of clothing, and trinket from home that might comfort me while i'm gone.

 I'll pack some of those things of course, but instead of freaking out, i'm going to pull myself together and realize what an opportunity I have been given.

Big deal that I will ride on a plane for nine hours. The destination is competely worth the trip.

Will it kill me to be away from my family, friends, or bed for a little bit longer than i'm used to? Absolutely not.

Will I want to go home when I first taste the local cuisine? I don't think I will. I'll probably be surpised by liking it. If not, i'll be comforted by the gobs of nutella in my suitcase.                                      

I pity people who are complacent with life, but here I am, wishing I could spend my entire summer locked in a padded room with a saftey blanket. Do I even hear myself right now? That's insane! I'm insane, insane to even consider not being one hundred percent for this trip.

I guess this is my confession that i'm not the great adventurer I pretend that I am, and this is me telling myself that's okay. While it's okay, it's not an excuse to stay home. I am going to Spain, and when I get past my worry and homesickness, I remeber that I am really dang excited.

The opportunity this trip will give me is to experience life like I never have before. Being connected to my home is immensely important, but being knowledgable of the world through travel is important in different ways. The comfort of home is necessary, but I have that comfort almost every day of my life. Going without it for ten days won't wreck me, it will probably do just the opposite.

My prayer is that rather than breaking, I will flourish under the weight of what I will experience. Of course I will at times feel homesick, tired, (and confused about why in the world the people of Spain think olives are remotely good enough to be a food staple). But I will also marvel at the new things I learn, the cultural differences and similarites, the history and beauty that is woven into the country at every turn. 

I have talked about missing my family, but my choir is a different kind of dysfunctional family, with a whole lot of siblings and three or four moms. They're the best family I could dream of to take this adventure with. I don't think I can find words to describe how grateful I am for the incredible year I have experienced with my choir, and Spain is going to end this season beautifully. I will be away from my physical home, but the people I will be with are my home, too.                                                 

When I started writing about this an hour ago I was barely okay with dipping my toes in the water. I think i'm all in now. Let's do this, Tour Choir.