Here and There

Here and There

There’s something about the way this afternoon is spread out all grey and misty over the valley that makes me homesick. Maybe it’s the mountains sitting silent behind the fog, so different than the rolling plains of the central Carolinas. Or maybe it’s just that we’ve been in Papua New Guinea for four months now, the longest I’ve been outside the States since I was fourteen. Whatever the reason, I’ve felt all day like I can’t take a full breath past the lump in my throat. And it’s not a day I could hide away from people. First a worship service, then a birthday party for a good friend’s son. Smile. Small talk. Try to will the eyes to stay dry. And then the moment when someone asks if I’m glad to be here. Yes, friend, yes I am. There’s not a shred of me that...

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