Getting There

It takes a while to get to the other side of the world.  Even by now, when we've figured out the most direct route - Korean Air from Toronto to Seoul to Chiang Mai - it's still a 30 plus hour trip from door to door. 

I am now in Seoul on the three hour layover.  That's just the right length.  Time to freshen up a little after the longer 13 hour flight, grab a drink, walk around and stretch for a bit, and then find a spot at the gate to ponder how long it takes to get to the other side of the world.

It's definitely getting easier.  That first trip, oh dear I was a mess!  Had no idea how to stay comfortable in a cramped space with dry recycled air for 13 hours at a time.  How to pack my carry on for smooth security checks and easy access to what I'd need to occupy myself during the flight (not nearly as much as I thought, actually).  How to avoid the swollen legs (commonly referred to as cankles, as calves and ankles just sort of balloon into one another).  How to drink enough water the day before and all throughout the flight.   How to settle in and let the journey be a beauty unto itself. 

Left to my own devices, I'm actually NOT a traveler.  Funny, then, that this is my eighth time.  Strange that I know how to get there with relative ease and comfort, that I'm that experienced now.  Odd that this homebody can sometimes and often be found so far from home.  Crazy that I'm not only willing, but excited to do this alone.

It's love.  Or a calling.  Or maybe there's not really a difference between those two.  It's the sound of hope and joy manifest in the songs of no-longer-orphans, strong and sweet and loud and defiant against the poverty and despair that once threatened their future.  It's the magnetic draw of true heroism, demonstrated in the radical hospitality of two of the most selfless people on this wide, round planet, Suradet and Yupa. I count it as one of my life's true treasures that I have been allowed to know them, and be taught by them.

It's the awareness that, just like these children, you too have been embraced and loved into a new family, despite the baggage you might bring.  It's seeing God's grace-story enacted again, and realizing afresh that grace wins.  Grace always wins. 

And so I sit bleary and weary - neury mahk! - with strangers in a far away airport, waiting to get on to yet another airplane.  And right about now it's been 24 hours without sleep (unless you count the hour I was able to nap on that last flight).  But I don't care.  I really don't care.

Because soon enough I'll be with them.  And weird as it is, as far away and different and other-worldish as it is, it will feel like home.

There are four places in the world that my heart knows as home.
Wherever my husband Ken is.
With my Highview family.
The cottage.
Hot Springs.....my farthest away home.

"Ten thousand blessings for my heart to find."