January 4, 2012
I wonder if there are those destined for smooth, “normal” travel experiences, while others of us are just not meant for such normality. Sometimes I also wonder why I keep doing this: why continue on a path of ever-new experiences if it means setting myself up for those moments of deer-in-the-headlights panic of the “impossible” situation? But then I remember that the “impossible” never is, in fact, impossible. And that even in the midst of it there is also the grace of sustaining provision.
Today I departed on another journey. This time leaving my kind hosts [though “my family” feels somehow like a more fitting word for them] for the past week. Today I return to my Central Asian home/workplace. Reluctantly, I must say.
So when, in the midst of today’s panic-filled visa confusion at the airport, I wondered momentarily if I was intended to follow my host family as they also journeyed to their own next home/workplace. I was tempted to cry out, Wait! Take me with you . . . as they patiently risked their own departure time to see that I was not stranded in this country without them. But at the last possible moment I was cleared, to make my mad dash through security. And then to have one last moment of anxiety as my name was called over the intercom, summoning me to report to my boarding gate. Turns out they simply needed me to identify my bag; but for a moment I imagined them forbidding me from boarding my aircraft after all, like some cruel joke: “Never mind–you must stay, held hostage in the airport . ..”
But no; ready or not, I must now return to the work I am called to . . . to the place where I live and to the life I am living. So on I go. “Bring it on!” as T echoed in her prayer this morning.
My heart is full to the point of bursting, grateful for this time, and for the people so blessedly in my life. I cannot complain. I can, and have, shed a few tears, mind you :-) But all is well.