My journey to get to Washington was ideal. I don't say that lightly. I think [know] I needed the time to process what I just agreed to do. I would be driving or riding, and a minor panic would strike. I would (try) to quickly submit that to the Lord with a small part of me thinking, "Did You reeeeeally lead me all the way out here?"
I think I must take this moment to publicly thank my traveling companion. Being in a small car for 40 hours is no small task. Doing it peacefully with someone isn't easy either. When I first talked about making this cross-country move, my brother almost immediately volunteered to make the road trip with me. Shocked, I quickly agreed, inwardly hoping that he wouldn't change his mind. And he didn't.
And I couldn't be more grateful for what he and his wife did. Leaving his family for a full week, driving- sometimes mindlessly- across the country, and staying with me for a few days upon arrival in the Emerald City.
I'm so thankful for the time we had in the car, the moments that led to wonderful laughter, the meals we ate in a flash, the ridiculous and beautiful things we saw along the way, the stupid Atlas trivia games we played, the feeling of accomplishment because we conquered I-90, all of it. I had a great time crossing the country.
And he graciously encouraged me through my first couple days of school without complaining about dropping me off at 7:20 or picking me up afterwards. He listened to my stories about my kids, threw the frisbee with me after day 1, and made me laugh as I was gagging due to stress. Dropping him off at the airport was my low point of the month probably. Moving to Seattle seemed so easy. I didn't understand why people had such a hard time moving places by themselves.
And then I realized why. I had my brother with me the entire time. But leaving him Tuesday night was a sad, sad time for me. The fear trickled into my car before he ever got out. Though I know he was ready to go, and his family was certainly eager to receive him, I wanted nothing more than to announce to SeaTac airport that he was a security threat in order to force him to stay.
Anthony hugged me and said, "You're gonna do it! You're gonna make friends and settle in. Find a good church. Get plugged in. You're gonna be great, Marissa! You can do this!" I was already crying, so I took this opportunity to just leave him.
And since then, Seattle just hasn't been the same. Because now this isn't some crazy, temporary adventure; it's my life. My alarm goes off around 5:50. AM! I teach pre-school. I coach 2 squads. And this just in- now I teach 6th grade PE and work the tutorial room two mornings a week.
I am still very excited to be here. I think this is a valuable learning season, and I anticipate some serious refining. Small children have a way of being God's tool for that. I will say, hearing 12 4 year olds and 8 3 years call me their own version of Miss Rodriguez is delightful. The majority of my 3 year olds sound like this: Miss Waad-weee-guz. Who can't help but smile at that?! They're trying so hard.
I'm very much still transitioning to life here in Washington. I've got lots to say, but I'm going to call it quits now. Thanks for the prayers. I appreciate them greatly.
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