The flight from Atlanta arrived twenty minutes early, a remarkable thing (thanks, Delta). And so our Hope walked through the exit and back into our lives. Not, of course, that she had ever left our hearts during her 10 days in Jamaica. But still, she’s home.
Parts of the trip were “incredible”, “amazing.” “Prayer works” is the response to the gash in one guy’s ankle while mowing on Saturday which was nigh unto healed by the end of the service on Sunday morning. (Prayer works is my response at seeing her face). Time with little kids, with working, with having fun…all are elements of the trip.
And now the girl who lived in another country, who flew over Cuba today, who is not much over 16, now she’s checking email and Facebook and getting ready for the first hot shower in 10 days.
I know. There are sons and daughters off to war for long stretches. There are fathers who spend months and years away from their daughters for work, or God, or country or more. And for them, I offer thanks or sympathy or whatever else is appropriate.
For us, however, for tonight, we’re glad she went…and we’re glad she’s home. We’re not in that much of a hurry for an empty nest.