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Tuesday, March 9th, 2004
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4:36p - Approximately nine thousand and three hundred miles later...
And I am home again.
Where do I start? It seems that there is no fitting place to begin. My house felt strange when I pulled my heavy suitcase through the familiar, quiet door; my fingers felt strange as they once again began tapping out words onto a computer screen. I feel like I have just stepped back through the wardrobe, and behind me there is suddenly no longer a magic wood, but only normal things that I used to know. And I long for it back. I have gone and now returned, and I find myself yearning for the differences... the narrow streets, the strangeness of the alphabet, the men walking past in fur hats. All of it. Europe has stolen a piece of me, and yet I don't want it returned. Instead, I want to return to it. And one day, you know, I will.
I don't have the time to tell you everything right now, so you'll have to be a bit more patient. :) Chloe, thank you for the friendly email I found in my in-box. It cheered me so much to read it, and remember how sweet your friendship is to me. I almost--almost!--was able to send you a postcard from Budapest, but somehow the address I had brought became lost when I needed it. I am sorry about that, dear friend. I was thinking of you over there. One day you must come with me.
But oh! God is God! And He is the same wonderful God in the mountains and quaint streets of Brachov that I have known in the noisy streets of America. He is the same God that pours His love on the people of Budapest, that all my life has sung lulabies over me as I have slept. He held my hand as I walked down cobblestone streets; He was with me when we ate at Turkish restaurants. His presence anointed our late-night conversations in the hotel room.
The world is so small. I wish I could really show you.
current mood:  sad
current music: "Heaven" by Hillsongs (comment on this)
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