Diet Coke

I'm home safe and sound. And drinking Diet Coke by the 32 oz glass. Josh says my eyes are a little crazy, which is due to the 1804 things I need to get done by 8 a.m. Monday. I have no expectations of the weekend, except for my date with an electric hole punch and a Grey's marathon. Yes, this is my life the week before COP. I secretly love it. The rush of things to accomplish. The pressure to do it all exceptionally well. The last minute details that I have no control over (which make them last minute!) but am still responsible for. I love it.

And new candidates arrive on Sunday. These people I've been communicating with for six months - we'll finally meet. Even though its crazy, I love it. Because its part of people taking the step of faith into overseas missions. Their excitement is contagious. They have new life and energy, excitement for all that is missions. Even support raising. They're overflowing and I do my best to soak it all in. That, and answer their million and one questions: some of which are off the wall, some very detailed, some broad with no real way to answer. This is why I love my job.

I'm off to QT for more Diet Coke. And when I say Diet Coke, I mean diet pepsi. But Diet Coke is way cooler to say.