As the sun shines down on the cold and snow covered rooftops of Funehiki, I sit at my desk at school, in the final minutes of my work day, staring out the window, and I consider how simultaneously fast and glacially slow time seems to pass these days. Like the snow outside, things seem frozen, and yet already melting so quickly away. I feel I'm in a hurry but for what I do not know.
We are just under two months till our departure, and we're in that stage where we are beginning to, as Hannah says, experience our first "lasts." The "last" time we eat this, that "last" time we go there, the "last" time we see this person. We are trying our best to "be where we are" and "finish well." It's hard, however, as we begin to look toward the future and what we'll be doing when we return to America the first week of April. We're excited to see old friends and visit familiar places, but at the same time we're trying to hang on to every wonderful "last" moment of this experience.
Our team is beginning the transition, also, and it sometimes feels strange. We have had the first meeting to discuss the hand-off of responsibilities, and with it came our first feelings of "it's like we're gone already." Already, the new team is preparing to come to Japan, and we wonder what we could tell them to make their transition smoother. It's got the two of us a little mixed up, to be honest. Emotions are running high. We think of the things we are so glad we did, things we wish we could have done but didn't, and things frankly we would have done differently if we had the chance. It's the natural course of things.
And so our prayers these days are for simple things. Warmth. Winter feels especially freezing here. Grace. To walk out these final weeks faithfully. Peace. To face the future unafraid. And Contentment. To share the time we have here in unhurried and unworried peace, with our friends, savoring the gift God has given us in each other.
These are our prayers. We hope to see and talk to you all very soon, indeed.
