One week out…

 It is Christmas Eve night. The radio is playing centuries-old Christmas music, rain patters on the deck outside, and I am sitting in the pine room, in the quiet of this night of ancient mystery and gladness. 

Every gift is given. The final pile of Christmas cards is on the counter, ready to mail on December 26. All that remains is a quiet dinner tomorrow with a small handful of us—Phil, me, Neal, Paul, and Rui (a friend from China). 

And then…Thailand. A week from now we will be flying over the dark waters of the ocean, chasing the sun into the east, struggling to sleep in the crowded comfort of Delta flight 171 to Seoul. About 21 hours after we take off from Minneapolis, we’ll land in Bangkok, weary and disheveled and excited.

I’m trying to imagine what it will be like—the colors, smells, sounds, the feel of the air in my face. Will we enjoy teaching English? Will they keep us so busy we won’t have time to explore, to read a book for pleasure, work on writing and editing projects—and above all, to nap? Will our bed be hard and lumpy? Will God use us to bring some light into the lives of people we meet? Are we too old for this?

I don’t know.

So I sit in the quiet of what I do know. God is love. God holds us. Phil and I are in this together, and I do like that thought. God is the beginning and end of our lives, the reason we exist. If we can remember and walk in that, it is all we need to do. 

Merry Christmas, and God bless us, every one.




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