Leaving.

I leave in exactly seven days.  In fact, I'll probably be pulling out of Pine Ridge at this time of day next Saturday.  I know that tomorrow, I'll preach and lead worship at St. John Episcopal Church for the last time.  I know that afterwards, they'll host a wopila (thank you) for me.  I know that I'll preach and lead worship at Cohen Home (independent living for elders) in the evening.  I know that on Monday, I'll host a wopila for the community.  I know that on Tuesday, I'll have dinner with a dear pastor and his family.  I know that on Wednesday and Thursday, I'll have sending services with the kids.  I know that Friday will be spent packing up final things.  I know that I leave Pine Ridge on Saturday.

I know these things.  These are facts or guaranteed in my coming days here.

I know that I am leaving.

But, I don't know what I'm leaving behind and what I'm taking with me.  Yes, yes, I'll probably leave the wheat flour that I didn't manage to use up and the jeans that no longer fit, but I'm not sure what I'm leaving behind in terms of what this year has meant for the community.

You know what is scarier than not knowing what it has meant for the community?

Not knowing what it has meant for me.  Not knowing what I am taking with me.

I spent most of Thursday crying.  I am a crier.  I have always been a crier and I will likely always be a crier.  It's how I express a variety of emotions.  Thursday's crying was a mix between hot, slow tears and side-clenching sobbing.  Most of this was done while driving to and from Rapid City in the privacy of my own, air-conditioner-less car.

See, I don't know what I'm leaving behind as far as peoples' opinions of this quirky white girl who doesn't eat meat and loves to preach.  I do know that I am leaving with a heavy heart, full of stories of the good and bad of this year.  I know that I am exhausted, tired of what working eighty hours a week means and being emotionally present for some of the most difficult moments of my young life.

I know that I am leaving a part of my heart behind and that I am taking the stories of the people who have taken a chance on this crazy wasicu girl.

For this, I am thankful.