Here I am in the TF Green Airport, typing on a tiny tablet keyboard. So this won’t be long, or eloquent, or well edited, but it’s just to say: 

This summer of watching and waiting was also a summer of the unexpected. I never thought I’d waitress at a restaurant, or be brave enough to drive in downtown Boston. I never imagined that one of my most vivid memories would be falling during a run in the rain, or that I’d miss a flight in California. I had no clue I’d get a new nickname this summer (Gabe!), or fall in love with mass at a monastery just ten minutes away. 

While I was anticipating this day all along, this fifth of September, I never realized how hard it would be to see my sisters out the door this morning for school, to say bye to the lake for a period longer than I ever have before. As much as I fantasized about ditching my smart phone, actually cancelling the plan today and realizing it’s time for my 5 year old, cracked and chocolate filled phone to retire was like giving up an adolescent security blanket. 

I’m surprised by how time is still and rushing all at once. I’m in awe of the incredible generosity of so many people this summer toward the community I’ll be joining. I’m overwhelmed by the sheer number and tangible love of all those who are holding me in prayer. I’m not doing this journey alone. 

I worry that real life won’t be as exciting as I wish, and while I’m spending time worrying about the supposed drudgery of life, God keeps writing away, spinning a story that’s turning in directions beyond what I can imagine. Thank God for the unexpected. 

Here I go, to meet people I don’t know and become a community together, to learn how to better listen to the unfolding, unexpected miracles of this life. Hopefully to learn a bit about welcoming the unknowns that are inevitably part of this life for the teachers they are.