Deflated balloons

The beautiful hot air balloon called the Locke Family Adventure has been poised for ascension.  After two years of anticipating a move to Thailand, the sky was beckoning with the beauty of dawn.  As we climbed into the basket and prepared for the anchored ropes to be released, there was great apprehension for all of us.  Will we, in fact, fly this time?  Should we get our hopes up and send our hearts on ahead?

I wish we wouldn't have.  One neglected stop light, a concussion and adrenal fatigue later and the hot air is seeping out.  I can't do it.  From my depths, the knowing has been rising to consciousness. I cannot endure the stress of this transition and be healthy on the other side.  I will never be able to fulfill the requirements of the job, let alone my own expectations of myself in that community.  I presently cannot care for my beautiful kids here in a supportive, familiar community, much less care for them while they transition to a new life in a new land.

In honesty, the reasons I would float into the rising sun is not from faith or wisdom or adventure or self care. No. The fear of disappointing people is at the top of list once again.  I am disappointing my husband and daughters who have been chomping at the bit for 2 years to fly away.  I am disappointing my friends and students on the other side of the globe waiting for us to come. I am disappointing those who live vicariously through our insanity. I am disappointing those who are sick of hearing of the ups and downs of our journey and are ready for us to just go already.  I am disappointing those who are expecting us to follow through in faith, believing the accident a plan of the enemy to thwart us and healing miracles will happen as we go.

I cannot. With every restless night that moves me closer to departure, I inch toward panic in the deep places of my soul.

The burner is turned off, the balloon is slowly losing it's fullness and lift.  I'm afraid the giant nylon rainbow will settle on the basket before I have the strength to climb out. Will I suffocate under the weight of a deflated balloon?  I might. Or perhaps I'll simply be hidden long enough to heal and arise wrapped in the beauty of the color that covers me.