Just Stay

"Just stay."

"You don't have to go."

"We miss you."

3 and a half years ago I sat in front of a group of elementary and middle school kids I had spent a lot of life with. I mean, considering I had been in middle and high school myself... I basically grew up with them on my hip and under my wings. My friends back then thought it was cool and even ended up hanging out with us a couple days after school. We didn't really think it would go this far for me. Then again, maybe they did and they just let me hope and wish and dream on my own.

But I sat in front of them and told them I was going to college. And it wasn't UK like we had planned as a family unit. Where the girls and I could still have ice cream and dance parties and the boys would be able to come to basketball games with me. Nope. Not UK. It wasn't even in the same state. I told them I was going to an itty bitty school in Knoxville, TN, to study the Bible and teach people around me how to love... Marcus and I knew then that my journey at Johnson wouldn't look normal. Nothing about me is really "normal." But I knew then my role would be tough... and I would stick out like a sore thumb. The kids didn't understand that though... and honestly I'm still trying to avoid my obvious role here and I keep getting my butt kicked for it. I have a semester left to figure it out okay?

Of course I would still visit! I reassured them. Plus...

"I'll be back in 4 years."

3 and a half years ago I sat in front of a group of elementary kids and led their bible rotation and helped out with homework where I could. I was nervous, but also very at home. Would I ever be accepted or love others like I did in Lexington? Of course Bolivia is a whole other category in this, but I almost felt more foreign in Knoxville those first few months than I did across borders. The adults in the room made comments about how much I resembled him. How the kids just want to be around me. I was honored and terrified all in the same moment. Even though I can fit his basketball shoes... those were still huge shoes to fill and the bar had been set. I was only a volunteer then. But they knew just like I did, they had me for 4 years. 

2 summers ago I sat in front of a group of middle school kids that were a lot bigger and louder than the babies I just spent my first two years of college with, an prior to that. But a few dance moves and a couple jokes latter it was as if I was a middle schooler myself. "This is where I belong" I thought. And I stayed with them through the fall and winter and spring. 

Last January I got a call about needing me to do something really hard. We had just lost Zae and our kids were wrecked. Change isn't something I am too fond of. Which is ironic considering how much I love cities. It is a love hate thing for sure. But that call changed my life forever. And I wouldn't want to change it for the world. 

Almost a year ago I got on a bus full of kids I didn't really know. I recognized a few older siblings, and a few seniors that had helped me out before, but I sat in a seat on my own. We were headed to resurrection. The time is coming where we get on that bus again, only though this time, I'll know everyone. My heart will swell with joy and I'll thank God for this family. 

My heart will also break a little, because the next time I journey out to the mountains that far it will be for my Graduation. And the ones I told "I'll be back in 4 years" will be awaiting my return. And the ones I've done life with the last 4 years will hold their breath and say, 

"Just stay."

"You don't have to go."

"We miss you."