paper planes;;

I see the wheels distancing themselves from the ground, farther and farther....
The sound is so familiar, and so excruciatingly loud,
but from where I am, I hear only a small buzzing of the engines.
Looking through the colossal glass windows that expand across a long wall, I know I'll be gone soon....
that once I'm in the air, the hard clay dirt of Texas is no longer mine,
the vigorous heat, the cozy suburbs, the inevitability of extreme comfort and vanity,
all once was my home.

I'm not as scared as I should be, I know.
In fact, I'm not scared at all.
I'm just worried it hasn't hit me yet,
concerned that once I'm there, laying in my bed, it will all crash in like a wave on the shore,
and I'll sink deeper and deeper down into the waters of misery.
But I don't want to think about it.

All it takes is trust, and everything will make sense.
But does trust take work, or does it just come easy?
How do I know that I am truly putting my full trust in Him?
How do I even do that.

I'm afraid of what the future will hold.

Not of whether they will like me, in Clarion.

Not of whether I'll fit in perfectly....

I know those are given.

But will it ever compare to Texas?

Will it fill my gaping black hole?

I'm both frightened and hopeful that this will be the case.

And if it is the case....will I ever take time to remember?

Will I forget the love I had, for my once-home?

Will I ever be going home?