It's like thanksgiving in September!

     I absolutely loath it when companies and society decides it’s ok to start holidays early. I mean, I LOVE Halloween, but the fact that stores already have decorations out for it, and have for a week or so now, kills me. And then there are those stores that put up thanksgiving and Christmas decoration the day after the previous holiday, or even worse, before the previous holiday is soundly in its bed to slumber for the next year until its’ time to shine once again. Despicable.  

Which is why it pains me to do this, but with my impending departure, I feel I must do it now. I need to have my thankfulness post now. I’ve come a long way in this journey, and many people have helped contribute to it and assist me on the way, both finically and more importantly spiritually, morally, and ethically. The following is in no particular order, and is instead just in the order that people leap to my mind who have helped me.

     Let’s start with the big one, God, without whom none of this would be possible (as I believe; you are free to believe differently and I respect your view. Adherence to my faith and beliefs is not required for this blog, or any type of faith or beliefs really. You do you and let me do me and I will respect you). After that comes my parents, Timothy Balch and Janice Bickham (who kept her last name after marriage because she’s a proud southern woman who is comfortable with her family name and my father is a loving caring northern gentleman who understood that he was lucky enough she was willing to marry a Yankee to begin with and so didn’t push the issue). Their love and care during my upbringing is one of the strongest factors that have influenced me and shaped me to be the person I am today. Next on my list would be my wonderful love, Alexis MacGregor. Throughout this process she has been loving and supportive, despite the fact that she would have to go a year without me (and the fact that the interview/discernment weekend happened to fall on the Valentine’s Day weekend). She was wonderful in understanding that this was something I felt called to and needed to do. She is the person that has ferried me to and from the airport for every time I had to fly for the program (a total of three times) and she will be the one to drop me off at the airport when I leave. She has listened to everything and helped be a sounding board while I was deciding to do this program as well as for thoughts and fears I have had since.

     In the program itself I need to thank a number or people. Elizabeth Boe and Grace Flint the two leaders of the program that we interact with the most and thus are the most relevant in the mind. Next is the Reverend David Copley, who, despite being a big shot in the church and the missionary branch of the church, made sure to be present at all of our discernment and training sessions. Then there is, of course, Yanick Fourcand, whom I have mentioned in previous posts. She was the one responsible for coordinating travel and logistics for all of the YASC participants and is a genius at it. Arranging for 40 young adults to arrive for discernment and then for close to 30 to arrive for training and orientation from all of the country and successfully getting them to survive New York, as well as getting them to their placements around the globe, is an amazing feat. She also has been wonderful and patient with me and my habit of getting paperwork in late and with all the other delays and hiccups I experienced, as well as being great about exchanging close to a billion (more like 10) phones calls on the day I was in New York applying for my actual visa. Her help in navigating the city and then helping deal with the issues at the visa office was a real life saver.

     A special ‘thank you’ is in order for the Brothers of the Holy Cross, who acted as the hosts for both the discernment and the training and orientation weeks. They welcomed us into their monastery with open arms and loving hearts. I know that many other participants sought them out for guidance and advice both during the discernment weekend as well as the training. They are all very wonderful people who loved sharing their time and lifestyle with us as well as praying for us and holding us in their thoughts as we undertake our individual journeys. [More about the order in general is at http://www.holycrossmonastery.com/OHC/OHC.htm, and the particular House we were in at http://www.holycrossmonastery.com/index.htm.] They were all spectacular people, whom I cannot wait to see again.

     Then there is of course all those people who helped sponsor me: the Reverend Raymond Hage, the Reverend Deborah Rankin, Sally Carey, Barbara Blackburn, Kathleen Bledsoe, Cora Teel, Faith Balshaw, Wayne Norman, Darlene Daneker, John and Susan Hash, Bill and Becky Cryus, Jack and Sally Bogers, Marjorie McKee, Tom and Linda Wilkinson, Nick and Mary Beth Reynolds, Abe and Shyla Abraham, Pat Pierce, Shyla and Abe Abraham, Kristen and Travis Austin, and Courtney Cross and Pat Hooten. All of these people, and then some, donated to my fundraising, and I appreciate them all. Some of them sponsored certain days and will also be recognized on those specific days.

I want to also thank the Reverend Lisa Graves, her husband the Reverend Chip Graves, and the Reverend Deborah Rankin. They are the priests at the local Episcopal Churches in Huntington and they have been the base of my support during this time. They offered me time to speak at their congregations and helped support me with donations of their own. St. Johns Huntington, my home parish, and St. Peters, another local parish, were wonderful hosts to me and both had general collections for me. I want to thank both congregations for being so generous and giving from their hearts to my cause.

     If I have missed anyone (and I know that I have), it is not out of maliciousness, but out of poor memory and limited space. I could take any one person or group here and expound on their influence and how they have helped me for another page or so, but unfortunately I do not have the space. I just hope that they (and you, dear reader) know how much they mean to me and how I appreciate all they have done and continue to do for me, even if they don’t know it. So thank you, and God Bless. 

Rollercoasters

     Rollercoasters, am I right? Now stay with me for a second. Rollercoasters. I love them, and I know many others do. In my 22 (almost 23) years on this earth, I have ridden many rollercoasters, and become familiar with the phases of riding a rollercoaster. (Remember that this next bit is coming from a guy who has ridden many rollercoasters and keeps going back for more.)

     There’s the first stage, when you are approaching the line/ are in the line. The fear and apprehension doesn’t exist at that point is well hidden at that point. You are joking around with your friends and companions. Talking about anything; plans for the day, gossip involving your friend base, plotting the best route through the park to hit all the rides, discussing where you want to eat, even talking excitedly about the ride, since at that point it’s still abstract. You know it’s there, you know you are going on it, you can see it, you can even hear the screams from the current riders, but it’s not real to you yet.

     The next stage is on the platform. It’s almost your turn. You can see the front of the line. You’ve already picked which part of the car you want to be in (the very back is the best, but sometimes the line is too long, so you take the second to last car or even the front, if you like the wind). The fact that you are going on the ride is a little more concrete here. The option to not go is still there though. Something could happen. The ride could break, one of your companions could chicken out and you can agree to sit it out with them so they aren’t alone waiting on your group, you can change your mind yourself, you could trip and break your leg and thus have an excuse to not go, you could be struck by lightning, the sky could open up and the voice of God could descend upon you and tell you not to get on, etc. You want to go on the ride, you love rides, but all those things could still happen, and you tell yourself that the nervousness you feel is BECAUSE these things could happen, and that their occurrence wouldn’t be the answer to your silly nervousness.

     Then you are actually in the car. You are fastening your seat buckle, the bar is descending, and the ride attendants are making their rounds. You are 99.9 % DEFINITELY going on this ride. You are locked in. But that can still change. The ride could not start, you can still raise your hand and get off, the weather could still change in an instant, that lightning bolt is still waiting in the wings to strike. But you don’t. Those things don’t happen. And the ride lurches forward and leaves the station.

     OH CRAP! THE PANIC HITS! THIS IS HAPPENING! YOU AREN’T READY! YOU AREN’T PREPPED ENOUGH! WHY DID YOU AGREE TO THIS! YOU HAVE NO IDEA IF YOU WILL SURVIVE OR NOT! THE CAR COULD JUMP THE TRACKS, BREAK DOWN, YOU COULD GET STUCK, THE BAR AND SEATBELT COULD MALFUNCTION AND YOU COULD BE THROWN OUT! WHY IN THE WORLD DID YOU AGREE TO GO ON THIS DEATHTRAP?!?!

     That is the stage I’m at. The car lurched forward for me last night when I opened the email from Yanick (the logistics master for YASC) and saw my enclosed ticket for the 29^th of September to South Africa. I saw that, and it hit me. I’M DOING THIS! It is actually happen. I’ve been close to this before; if you look at the previous post you will know that I was supposed to be on the plane on the 17^th originally. I got all the way up to the platform and had one leg in the car last time, but one of those little things happened and I didn’t make that plane. Due to a misunderstanding with the South African Consulate my original Visa was denied, and so while I should have had my Visa by the 9^th or even the 11^th, I actually didn’t receive it until this past weekend, well after I should have been on the plane. (Interesting fact, it actually wasn’t until the 17^th, the day of my original flight, that I found out what was taking my visa so long and what had gone wrong. When my ticket was cancelled on the 14^th I was still in the dark and had no idea when it would be coming it. I was still hoping to have it by the 16^th). But like I have said, being on the platform and even being in the car, is very different from actually feeling it moving.

     At this point, it is set. There is nothing (other than packing) standing between me and South Africa. And that is TERRIFYING! It’s terrifying in a way that I expected, that I knew was going to happen, I’ve been working towards this moment for some time, I knew it was coming, I’ve known that I’ll be doing this, I did my time in line, I’ve watched myself inch towards the car steadily and witnessed those that got on before me, but now it is REAL in a way that it never has been before. I’m going to be gone for a YEAR! I’ll be 6-7 time zones ahead of everyone I’ve ever known and loved for a YEAR! I won’t be in the same town as my parents and brother, something that hasn’t happened since ever. The longest I’ve been away from my family was the summer I worked at camp, and even then we were still in the same state and I could call them regularly and even take a trip back to see them. Even worse, I’ll be 8,000 miles away from my girlfriend of 5 years. I won’t be able to see her every day, something that hasn’t happened for a sustained period since the summer I worked at the camp and the following semester of college when she attended the other state university. Even then though, there was still the ability to communicate regularly and reliability and the option to visit (which was taken advantage of multiple times). I haven’t lived outside of my state, and only outside of my city for a period of 3 months, for my entire life. And now, starting TUESDAY, I’ll be gone for a YEAR. All this hit in an instant. Fear, doubt, excitement, everything set in.

     The best part is, it’s not over yet. For me, the scariest part of the roller-coaster isn’t the initial lurch of movement. For me the worst, and best, part of the ride is the clickety-clackity of the ascent up the first hill. Knowing that everything is out of your hands, but having all the time in the world to think of everything that could possible go wrong, everything you wished you had done or could do, and being afraid that you’ll never do them, watching the top of the hill approach at a steady pace. For me, this part will be the actual plane ride.

     My comfort in all of this is that the cycle isn’t over yet. Every ride I have ever been on always has those initial stages. But they don’t end there, because I always crest that hill. The car always takes that plunge and I always enjoy the rush that follows. Sure, I’m terrified right now. I can focus on how difficult it will be, all the obstacles I’ll face. How difficult it will be not seeing my girlfriend’s beautiful face every day and how much I will miss her. How I’ll miss important life events with my friends and family. I know that I’ll be lonely and feel isolated in a place that I have never been and whose culture is very different from mine. I can take all of this and let it overwhelm me, I can get caught up on everything leading up to the crest of the first hill, or I can know that the ride will be amazing and enjoy it. Sure it will be difficult, but it will also be a once in a lifetime opportunity to grow and experience things that I may have never been able to otherwise. At the end, when I stumble off the ride (plane) a year from now, the question will be, “did I throw my hands up in the air, scream my lungs out, and love it?” and I firmly believe that the answer will be yes. And that is why I willingly get on that ride.