just an envelope

I had my first meltdown prior to my Mozambique trip.

I'm kinda embarrassed about it, especially sharing it on my blog. But I think it's important to share because it's not often I share this part of who I am, especially when it comes to preparing for my trip.

A month ago, I was driving towards Newport Beach with my husband. The thought of returning to our second home hadn't hit me yet. Yes, I was excited and happy to be returning, but the thought of physically being in Mozambique again hadn't hit me. And as I shared my thought to my husband, I said, "Usually I start crying right now. Either with too much emotion or stress. I usually cry around this time."

Usually.

It's almost 4 years since I've been to that beautiful place. Though it's been a while since I've gone on an overseas mission trip, some things don't change. Hours of preparation. Constant emails with the team and contacts overseas. Writing down lists and lists of needs. Losing sleep.

Yep. I knew that my meltdown was coming around the corner.

When it came, I felt like an idiot. We just came home driving from the IE celebrating Father's Day with our families. Exhausted, we still knew we had to do things for our trip. We didn't have the right size envelopes for our thank-you cards, so I volunteered to drive to Target to get it done that night. On my way there, I forgot to bring a card to use as an example; I called my husband, realizing that his phone might be dead. Every time I called him, it went straight to voice mail; my heart started beating fast. "I need to know the size so I can find the right envelope," I kept yelling in my car. And then there were the usual curse words that I threw in there, and blah blah.
      Finally at Target, still waiting for my husband to call me back, I looked through all the aisles that carried envelopes. I started piling them in my arms, like a crazy person. (Seriously, I was totally judged by the Target moms.) When my husband finally called me back, a sense of relief took over. Knowing the dimensions, I began to sift through my options until I realized none of these envelopes would suffice. Driving home disappointed (and leaving Target without buying anything), I felt like a complete failure. When I came home, I told my husband the tragic news; in turn he told me the info we wanted to write couldn't fit on the back of the photo. My heart started beating fast. "We need to get it done tonight," I kept telling myself. A sense of panic struck over. As my husband was trying to figure things out, thoughts were slowly poisoning my mind. Fear had crept in.

Still need to order crafts. Need to email Lynne for set safari times. Need to figure out shopping and packing the weekend before. Visas. Not enough with our budget. Still need to pay off stuff. You're not a good leader. Should've done it earlier. Your team is going to question you. 

"Are you OK?" he asked. Although the answer was, "I'm fine," it didn't hide the tears that were forming in my eyes. One look at my husband, and then the sob monster came out.

Why bother sharing this embarrassing story? Because these sort of things happen prior to preparing for any mission trip. As Christians, I feel we tend to fantasize the idea of missions and visualize how we want our trips to look like. Truth is: Things don't go your way. Never. You can be as prepared as you can be, but the realization of any mission trip is nothing can prepare you for the unexpected. Even the smallest, not-so-important details can set you off if it not done on your terms. Who knew that an envelop scavenger hunt would later result in sobbing helpless child?

If there's anything I'm continuing to learn throughout this entire 10-month process, it's this: God is in control. No matter what, no matter how much I try to control the little details, He is in control of everything. And until I release everything from my grasp and give it to Him, I'm stuck in a spiral of my own mess.

For the past couple of weeks of preparation, I compartmentalized a lot of my emotions about the trip. Stress. Fear. Anxiety. Nervousness. Uncertainty. All that and more was slowly building up to the point where I couldn't handle it. When I learned to let go these emotions, I felt a sense of peace. I felt like I could breathe again.

Who knew that a silly envelope would bring me back to reality...