Who cares? Well, apparently, me.

Sam is an engineering project manager.  His job is to oversee the execution of a project from start to finish and ensure that it is completed in a timely, effective manner.  In my opinion, a large part of what makes a person a successful project manager is not only their ability to troubleshoot problems as they arise, but to anticipate what might go wrong in advance and have a solution at the ready in case it does.  Sam is great at what he does. 

If you juxtapose Sam's ability to solve problems against my ability to anticipate the worst case scenario in every facet of life, you might say we're a perfect pair.  

Sam booked the tickets for our imminent European adventure on May 13th.  It is now August 14th which means I have had exactly three months to worry about every possible thing that could go wrong.  What this also means is that Sam has spent every spare moment in the past three months anticipating problems and creating preemptive solutions for all things European/travel related.  The other night, I stayed up late fretting and listing my concerns in my head and rather than physically writing them on a piece of paper so I wouldn't have to carry them around in my brain (an exercise I affectionately refer to as a "data dump"), I remembered to pray about them (if I'm honest, my inclination is to worry first, pray later).  When I woke up, 2 Timothy 1:7 came to mind:

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, of love, and of sound mind.

 As a special added bonus, God has also given me Sam.

I told him that morning that I was going to voice my fears to him about the trip with the hope that we'd talk through how silly they were or how we'd deal with them if they arose.  I hoped we'd do more of the latter than the former.  Knowing many of my concerns were rooted in how other people would be affected, I wholeheartedly expected Sam to meet them with "Who cares?"  If there's another thing Sam is really good at, it's not worrying what other people think.  For me, it's as much a part of my routine as making sure I shower daily.  Later that day, we took a walk and thus began the therapy session conversation.  I suspect Sam felt like he was an unwitting participant in this game:

Nevertheless, he humored me.

What if Zachary cries for the entire 8 hour flight?  He won't.  We can walk him up and down the aisles.  We can make him room to walk around in our row.  He'll probably sleep some.  Airplanes are loud.  He likes white noise.  
What if our kids are terrible in a foreign restaurant?  What if we don't know what or how to order?  We just won't go to restaurants.  We'll cook our own food or buy street food.
What if someone gets hurt?  What if I get a kidney stone?  What if someone breaks a limb?  We aren't going to a third world country.  We'll just go to a hospital and get taken care of.  Our health insurance covers us.
What if our phones don't work?  We'll go to the store at the train station and buy prepaid ones.
What if we get separated on the train?  Like, you and half our kids are on the train and I'm left in a foreign city with half our family and I don't know how to speak the language and I don't know how to get in touch with you and I just sit down and cry because I don't know how to find you?  That won't happen.  But if it does, all train stations have wi-fi.  You can get in touch with me no matter what.  You can get a new ticket for the next available train or rent a car and drive to us.  
What if someone steals our passports?  I made copies.  We take them to the US Embassy and they'll make us new ones on the spot.
What if one of our Airbnb reservations is canceled upon arrival and we don't have a place to stay?  If there's a train station, there are hotels.  We will find a place to stay.  I also have Marriott points to redeem, if we can find one of those.
What if I have a headache the whole time because coffee isn't as readily available there?  Literally every place we're staying has a coffeemaker.  PHEW!

There were more, both that he answered and that I forgot to ask.  I think you get the point.  Some people have contributed to my list of fears without realizing it by posing their own concerns and voicing warnings to me, to which I can now say, "Bring it! I have Sam and he has the answer."

To his credit, he did not say "Who cares?" one single time.

My biggest unvoiced concern is "What if people are rude to us?"  The answer to that truly is "Who cares?"  But also, "How would I know?"  I can understand a very tiny bit of German, can speak even less.  And other than that, I know virtually no French and absolutely no Dutch, Swedish, or Danish.  They can say whatever they'd like to or about us and I can remain in blissful ignorance.

Maybe we're a little crazy to take a trip like this, but with each passing year, it becomes increasingly more important to me that "someday" doesn't turn into "never" or "we missed our chance."  We want to see the world, to take our kids out of their bubbles, get me out of my comfort zone, try new things.  What are we waiting for?  Nothing.

If you would, please pray for our safety and sanity as we trek to Europe.  Please pray that the only reason we would stand out is as a light, whether here or there.  Also, pray that I don't gain back an unwanted 20 pounds in chocolate, bread, and frites.

A literal foreign land full of history, culture, food, and people awaits.