Anybody who thinks getting ready to go to Europe is easy hasn't done it. Anybody who thinks going on tour is a vacation hasn't done that, either. We are working almost harder than we work prepping a concert; we've had three rehearsals and one performance in the past week, and we have an open rehearsal tonight in West New York (which is actually in New Jersey).
All of that while trying to organize and pack and tidy up all the endless details that go with leaving one's husband and pets to fend for themselves for eleven days...it's exhausting.
That said, I think it's going to be a great time. There are little worries here and there - I'm a bit concerned about my husband having to crate the cats singlehanded and take them for boarding (they are famous for intuiting what's afoot and hiding, even though once they're there, they get cosseted and pampered and barely know they're not home).
I'm likewise a bit concerned that he has 55 minutes to change planes in Munich (where he has never been), and what happens if he can't make his connection.
I always fret a bit about security, and whether I'll manage to mis-organize something and have it confiscated. There are the rampant pickpockets and purse slashers in Prague to think of.
And then of course there are the notes. I have most of them; one or two still elude me regularly despite all my care.
Psalm 139 is a good one for this, I think:
Lord, you have searched me out and known me;It helps to remember that. No matter how far we go (we're going to Austria and the Czech Republic) and no matter what happens to us on the way or once we're there - God's got our backs. We aren't "roaming" where there's no signal; we aren't "out of range."
you know my sitting down and my rising up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You trace my journeys and my resting places,
and are acquainted with all my ways....
Where can I go then from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I climb up to heaven, you are there;
if I make the grave my bed, you are there also.
If I take the wings of the morning,
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand will lead me,
and your right hand hold me fast.
If I say, 'Surely the darkness will cover me,
and the light around me turn to night,'
darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day:
darkness and light to you are both alike.
Gotta go keeping organizing. More later, maybe.
2 comments:
. . . God's got our backs. We aren't "roaming" where there's no signal; we aren't "out of range."
I like that! Makes me think of the ubiquitous "Can you hear me now?" commercials.
Doesn't it? I've had cell phone reception on my mind...but it is another way to think of God's omnipresence.
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