I know this sounds insane to those who know me well, or know the struggles of this summer... but I have absolutely loved and cherished this summer more then I could even say. In the past week I have had moments like I mentioned in my previous post- the visions and flashbacks... the surfacing of memories that both move my heart and stir thoughts up in my mind. I am left with a lot of love and gratitude, and I have found myself in Europe more and more as I let my mind wonder to favorite things, or moments that I love most.
Some of those lead to friendships that changed in the distance, and some of those moments lead to times that I was at the end of my self, I was at the end of what I thought or felt and my heart was completely rested and assured in Christ. I have assembled and laid out each page of the photo book from my trip. Now I am going through and adding the postcards I sent home to myself from each place, and some that I wrote to others that perfectly articulated and captured a moment.
In the midst of a difficult and quite emotional conversation in May a few days before I left- Tex asked how he could make something better, or what he could "do". I remember that the first thing I thought of and wanted was a time machine. Impossible. These don't exist. Well, perhaps just not in the way we would expect.
The photo album of my trip is a time machine. I remember everything about a day, a sight, a church, a building, the conversation I had with a stranger... what I thought, felt, and wanted to hold onto. I remember what I did later that day, and I remember when I wrote every blog entry based on an inspiration from an image captured. I can tell you what I ate, where I went, how many times I typically got lost... I remember it all. The good days, the ones sitting quietly and writing postcards to loved ones. The successes in completing a shopping list of necessities. The faces I swore belonged to someone else. The touches of strangers on my arm in their expression of warmth in a greeting. The iChat conversation that was hard to be vulnerable in. The day I thought I figured it all out. The next one when I knew I was not in control of anything... period. The hard day of wanting to be lazy. The tremendous day of not understanding what was to come, but deep contentment in the part I got to play.
Time Machines.
I want one sometimes to remember the sweetness of a kiss on the forehead.
To remember the stamp being pressed tightly and firmly into my passport.
To return home, knowing without question that the time had come.
And most recently- the unspoken language in a glance from a friend, that speaks more in a split second then any marathon conversation at Waffle House would facilitate.
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