Hi from Far Away! (it's SO good to finally be able to say that.) I'm back, and it feels like it should--like home.
My flights over were fairly uneventful. Below is a brief and hilarious recounting of each of my seat neighbors. They were all so different, but were all entertaining and awesome and strange. But mostly strange.
Flight #1: Muskegon, MI to Chicago: I sat next to a man in a business suit who had a vintage tie clip on like my grandpa used to wear and smelled unmistakably and overwhelmingly of pretzels. I kid you not, people--PRETZELS. Like, so much so that I had to stop myself from turning to the people behind and in front of us and pointing at this guy, asking them, "pretzels, right? you smell that?" If this flight had been any longer than the 24 minutes it took to cross Lake Michigan, I would have walked off that flight smelling like pretzels, too.
(is it ironic that on my layover in Chicago, I bought a pretzel from Auntie Anne's?)
Flight #2: Chicago to Frankfurt: I stood in the group 4 boarding line with an uber attractive gentleman (I say uber, of course, because he was German.) and secretly asked the powers that be to make him my seat-partner instead of the obnoxious fanny-pack-clad Barcelona-bound tourists in line behind us. Request granted! Boom. Good thing I didn't smell like pretzels, right? It was pretty awesome, even if it did take me a few minutes to not laugh on the inside at his thick German accent. He threw my 40 pound carry-ons into the overhead bin like they weighed nothing. STUD. Needless to say, good flight.
Flight #3: Frankfurt to Far Away: I shared a row with a guy named Ali--we had an open seat between us. I slept for a good part of this flight, but while I was awake, I couldn't help but stare at Ali. Why? Because I have never, EVER met someone more terrified to be on an airplane. He white-knucked his armrests and whimpered and closed his eyes and whispered inaudible pleas to who even knows through our entire take-off, and repeated this routine at every little bump or drop or turn. Hysterical. We each had a few languages up our sleeves, and found one we had in common…I promised him that the plane would stay in the air, and he promised to take me out for dinner if we landed safely. Since I had a pretty good feeling that we would, in fact, land safely, I redirected that invitation quickly--maybe if we land safely, you should go celebrate with your WIFE! Point made. He didn't talk to me for the rest of the flight, but did give me a thumbs up and a wink at the baggage claim. I grabbed my bags and boogied right out of there. Da svidanya, Ali.
Which brings us to here, a week later. It's indescribably good to be back with these people I love, in this place I love. I truly feel like I haven't missed a beat, seamlessly fitting back into the life and language and relationships I left a year ago.
Life here is good and life here is hard, and every day I call on my King for his mercy on me and my friends and this country.
IT'S BEEN WONDERFUL
- It's been wonderful to hug my dear friends and catch up on their lives! My dearest Azeri friend met me at the airport only to hand me a teddy bear and a flower and kiss my cheeks (I was being picked up by other Americans, which she knew!), and then she handed me a working phone to call her on in the morning, and left.
- I've sat with my co-workers and cried and laughed with them as we've caught up on a year of news, and I've heard their stories and can see evidence of the King working in their hearts lives! Hallelujah! (and they've heard more about my beautiful nieces than they ever wanted to.)
- Yesterday I visited my favorite place in this whole city--Martyr's Alley--and quietly enjoyed the view of my beautiful city while I thanked my Father for bringing me back. My heart is full.
IT'S BEEN HARD
- It's been hard hugging three of my coworkers who have been hoping beyond hope to become pregnant. Two of them are not, and the third just lost a pregnancy, her first ever after 3 years of marriage, after 9 weeks. Their pain is palpable and rips at my heart and I have spent hours on my knees asking for His mercy on them.
- It's been hard hearing about the life choices my students are making. One in particular has decided to begin studying on the track that will bring her to medical school (she's currently 15). She wants to specialize in gynecology, and spends 3 afternoons a week volunteering at a local clinic, where, for hours, she watches abortion after abortion after abortion. When she's lucky, she says, she gets to assist. I'm weeping even as I type this, because I know her heart is hardened toward these tiny babies whose lives are being ended as she watches. And she's still a child herself. Maranatha, my King. MARANATHA.
- It's been hard falling asleep at night. As I type this, it's 1:39am. An hour ago, I could hear one of my neighbors hitting his wife. And now, I hear weeping. I don't even know where it's coming from, but it's filled with sorrow and pain and all I want is to find that person and hold them and cry with them.
- Today I learned that an old man I befriended in a village that I visited many times in the two years I lived here passed away this winter. He was a shepherd and sought me out every time I was visiting. He had me over to his home, and always sent me away with an overflowing bag of nuts and lemons. He asked if I would marry his son or his grandson. He killed one of his sheep and prepared a dinner in my honor. He stuffed my pockets with hard candy. I attended his 85th Birthday Bash (village style, of course). We took a few pictures together, and I brought them back to him each time I visited. He hung them up in his house, and his family displayed them at his funeral. He lived a long life--he was 85 when he died. 85 years that he could have met his Savior. I wish so deeply that I could go back a year and look into his eyes and shake his shoulders and help him understand, make him understand. He died before he believed. My heart very keenly feels this loss. (pictures of this wonderful man at the bottom of this post.)
The list of HARD is longer than the list of WONDERFUL only because it's easier to feel and explain the hard, but I assure you, joy abounds in my life here! The wonderful is what pushes me into each day and propels me forward in this dark place--Gd has filled to me to the marrow of my bones with joy! He is working here and it's humbling and exciting to be here among the work He is doing.
Please continue to lift up my sleep--I feel the battle here strongly in the night hours. The Enemy is fighting for this place, and for my friends, and I will fight back with everything I have, and I know that many of you join me in that battle. Ask for peace. Ask for visible LIGHT and protection over my house. He is always stronger.
Despite the HARD, He is good. In the midst of the WONDERFUL, He is good. So to him, the good Father, I say thank you.
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