Dearest All Four People Who Read This;
You may remember last time I posted I mentioned Jubilate tour. (And by “you may remember,” I really mean, “most of you saw me on Jubilate tour and it totally made my days.”) At any rate, it’s over now. We pulled back on campus late last night, unloaded, debriefed, hugged, and went our various ways. (And by “our various ways,” I mean “primarily back to the dorms one last night before our families come to pick us up.”) If blogging about chorale tour was hard, this is harder.
It was twice as long as chorale tour: twice as many churches, twice as many incredible church families, twice as much exhaustion, twice as many crazy bus rides, twice as many fun stops.
The Jubilate group was less than half the size of chorale: half as many people to room with over and over, half as many people to mingle with, half as many strangers to get to know, half as many people to take blame when something went wrong, half as many people to visit the congregation after a concert, half as many people to set up and tear down.
It went quickly: two weeks are over already.
It went slowly: after twenty-one concerts, seven states, fifteen host families, and $1432 in gas, I am so ready to go home.
It was oodles of fun: riding my first roller coaster, visiting the Abraham Lincoln museum, doing deaf karaoke on the bus, winning twelve jumbo pixie stix, eating all the time, fighting over Eric’s blanket, seeing so many friends and family members, fiddling and ukulele-ing and ringing and singing.
It was incredibly difficult: long days, short nights, tight schedules. Always being the cheerful bell player, regardless of how you feel. Always working as a team. Always aware of how we were messing up. Always trying to do better. Never quite feeling good enough.
I loved it. I hated it. I laughed some times, and cried others.
Was it worth it all?
I learned: about my own sinful heart, about what being hospitable means, about submission and helpfulness, about God’s great grace. I was stretched and grew. I was blessed and was, in turn, a blessing.
Will I do it again?
But not until next year.
Until then, I’m going home for the summer. (Just a few hours until dearest darling Mumsie and Popsicles get here! Bonus points for the first person who names that song.) I’ll be working in the Brookes library again, Lord willing, as well as doing some nanny-type work, taking piano lessons, publishing a book (less than a month!!), canning green beans, and hanging out with my favorite kids on the planet. Oh, and reviewing music theory all the time BECAUSE I ACTUALLY PASSED THAT CLASS, PRAISE THE LORD, AND I WANT TO KEEP IT UP. And I say that reverently, ok? I honestly thought I might accidentally flunk out of the music major this semester, but I didn’t. Glory hallelujah. Also, I’ll start thinking about being an RA next semester, and I’ll master Spanish.
Well, “master” might be strong. But I’ll perfect my pronunciation of “the fat man eats spaghetti.”
May your summer be as wonderful as mine is looking to be!
Much loves and stuff like that,
Betsy (“The Beast,” as my Jubilate nickname was…)