All the bags have been frantically organized, packed, and double checked. All the lists have been decorated with small x's, check marks, and crossed lines. All of our pathetic excuses for Spanish have been rehearsed and practiced, as well as the expectations of pointed fingers and laughter from the Paraguayans when we open our mouths and attempt bilingualism. Every last passport is now fashioned with blue and purple work visas in a language that we can't understand.
There is simply nothing left to do but wait and let life happen, which is for some reason a seemingly strange process to my organized-student mindset. Everything else is nothing we can put in bags, pack in parcels, or practice in a classroom. Everything left that is yet to come is all God's work and nothing I can control, or even attempt to control. It is both everything I've waited for and everything I've been fearful of. The climate, the children, the heartbreak of poverty. There is nothing left but trust, faith, and the manmade plastic wings that will take us there.