16 May 2013

The Bitter and the Sweet

I am writing this from the lobby of the hotel I've lived in for the past three days, waiting for a van to take me to the airport. In twenty minutes, I start my journey to Cambodia.

It is mind-boggling to realize that the next twenty minutes heralds the beginning of the end of my fantastic adventure. I arrive in Cambodia in less than 48 hours, and stay for four weeks. After Cambodia, there is a debrief in Perth, and then I fly back to the glorious Pacific Northwest.

That thought is sweet to me. Much as I love traveling; love tasting new foods (though I definitely regret the goat intestines and water buffalo curd); love making friends in unusual parts of the world; in short, much as my soul craves adventure and experience, I have exchanged bits of my essence with Seattle. A little bit of me is still there, and a little bit of Seattle is here in Asia.

I hold my city in my heart, and as my return draws closer to the foreseeable future, I am reminded of it daily.

And that is the bitter truth.

But I have an entire month of ministry ahead of me. An entire month to make an impact for God. A month of humidity, memorable moments, and bonding with a group of people who have become almost as close as a family in the last 4.5 months. As a side note, I known I've written about this before, but it's hard to believe that when I return, I'll have an entire set of memories of which you, my friends, have no part of.

But I digress.

Cambodia awaits. It beckons. Unlike Nepal, where the entire school was present and required to go, I am called specifically to Cambodia. God has made huge promises over my time there.

And that, friends, is the sweet. My adventure continues. I may be footsore, weary, sweat-stained and carrying dust from the road in all my things, but this raggle-taggle gypsy is far from finished. I need not fear drowning on dry land (except for the humidity) for a good six weeks yet. This warrior princess is still conquering. My circus act has not finished.

Yes, I need to remind myself of that excitement every morning, but it is an exciting truth nonetheless. This is not the final gasp of an over-long trip. This is just the little dip at the bottom of a ski-jump, just before the catapult into space. I'm ready to go, get me out of my mind. I'm free-falling, and everything is coming into sharper, clearer HD focus. Nothing can hold me back.

And now the van has appeared. Pray for me, friends, for I fear I am losing my mind.


12 May 2013

morning star

In darkness sweet I find myself tonight,
The stars light up my way. If I can tame
The voice within, I may, perhaps, my sight
Regain. And yet, if truth be told, the name
To which my fear has claim is none but "DAWN."
For what great light would rise to shine above
A moon and stars so kind that paint the lawn
On which my undisclosed desires do love
To play? The peaks are lit, and glory shines
Upon the vale of hopes my heart holds dear.
It creeps, encroach's, the moonlight dies - a line
In sand, the sun too bright on eyes too near.
This all is true, the moon controls my heart,
But still I watch the sun and day's new start.