In less than forty eight hours the boys and I will be taking off on a flight home.
In less than two days we are coming home.
I mean, I guess that’s all folks.
When things get hard I go deep inside myself, curl up in the fetal position and hide until it is over. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry for the silence in the last few crucial weeks here. I was choked on hard words that just wouldn’t come. I was pressed under hard days that just wouldn’t end. I have a lot of thoughts and a lot of processing to do and when that gets done I will explain to you in detail what happened here.
Because it is a story worth telling.
One of those really great stories, full of despair and redemption and flat out mid-air miracles. Full of people and experiences that change your life and fight for you when you fall down in the midst of battle. Gosh, it all looks so glorious in retrospect. I can’t wait to tell you.
But not yet, because right now sweet village? Let’s just bask. Let’s just sit down and treat ourselves to some cake for all that fasting and praying we have done.
Because? We are coming home.