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Back on Asian Ground

After what seemed liked endless plane rides, we have arrived back to our home in the land of tall buildings, spicy food, and strange smells.  The flights were uneventful, easy even.  We have really great children, and 30 hours of travel makes me acknowledge the blessing they are.  We have also been given a gift in our friends on this side of the world.

Let me back up a bit.

Three weeks into our stay in America, I was certain I was not returning here.  When I thought about it, I cried.  Not a little cry, but a heart wrenching cry, that I couldn’t even think through.  As the weeks flew by, the thought of returning got a bit easier until it turned into a resignation that it was really going to happen.  I began to plead with Father to let us stay…to provide some overwhelming provision and direction that left no question.  At the same time I asked for this, I also released my desires to Him.  Telling Him that I was going to be obedient regardless of His decision, but if His choice wasn’t mine, that He would really have to prepare my heart for it.

Y’all.  He is awesome.

Not that I doubted Him, but He really moved ahead of us.  When the plane lifted off the ground in Houston, and I stared at the semi-blue skies and clouds, I felt the tears coming.  I didn’t want to leave.  I didn’t want to say goodbye for an indefinite amount of time.  I wondered when and how I could return in the quickest way possible.  When we sat in the terminal in Japan and all I could hear was really loud Chinese, I felt dread.  I felt disgust.  

Five hours later, when we landed in Chengdu, the noise level was deafening.  All of us were exhausted, pushing carts overfilled with stuff and I heard English.  I was in a fog, but it finally registered.  I turned my head and saw one of my dearest friends!  It was 11 o’clock at night.  She is pregnant, so I know she was exhausted, yet she was there.  To welcome us home.  I almost cried.  Instead, in true form, I went to hug her and somehow caused my whole cart of luggage to tip over almost onto her husband.  

Twice.

Then, when we got home, we were greeted with an awesome sign on the door with signatures from all our friends.  Another friend had changed all our sheets and made sure the house was picked up.  Yet another friend baked us homemade cinnamon rolls, dinner for the next time complete with dessert, and washed and readied a big bowl of strawberries for us.  The love was abounding, and my heart began to turn.  

It felt like I was home.

I didn’t expect it, although I should’ve, because I asked for it.  I began to feel excitement to see my local friends and start class.  My heart began to be aligned with His and His desires.  I couldn’t have asked for a better return to the city.  I am so grateful for the way my friends listened to His nudging to bless us, to be an example of His love, because there is no question in my heart as to where their ideas originated.  He is GOOD!

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