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Tired Eyes, Sore Back, Happy Heart

September 26, 2015

A daughter takes flight.

Limber-Lost Musings

I wonder how many flights like these I’ll find myself on over the course of the next six months. Dry mouth. Cold feet clad in Birkenstocks. Tired eyes, sore back, happy heart. Stale lights. Strangers’ kind smiles asking for guidance, then helping me find my way.

Through the airport, through my skin, electricity pulses. With the turbulence, excitement gently rocks my bones while the tragedy of farewells begins to wane. Mountain and Josh Garrels on repeat. Told only by the shadows on maps I so obsessively enjoy, ocean cliffs lurk miles below the belly of the plane. One malfunction, and we’ll be reenacting scenes from “Lost,” but for each of us confidence in something greater than ourselves helps curb the anxiety. For me, it’s trust in the Almighty God who sent me on this trip.

As for a moment the perpetual tossing of the wind ceases, the walls hold their…

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