What I did with my Summer Vacation...a little late.

God's moving in my life BIG TIME right now and I feel a lot like I did three years ago when I moved to the DC-Metro area...as if my life, or at least all the major parts, are on auto-pilot and someone else has control of the reigns. Many of you know that I recently returned from Juarez, Mexico wherein I helped lead a group of high school youth on a construction and missions trip. We mixed and poured concrete, cut and tied reinforcing steel bars and broke and hauled rocks in buckets onto the roof to backfill walls, hosted pinata parties, lead worship, replaced the heads on all the drums at Paster Joel's (pronounced ho-elle) church, Templo Victoria, ate watermelon and bounced on a trampoline with orphans and we did it all in 106 degree heat. It was a joyful, joyful thing. Now I'm sure if you read my Myspace page...you have the rest of the details on that. But what I failed to place there was the change in my appearance, yes even my physical appearance, from the day I first arrived in Newark before we left...versus on our return date to Newark when we had finished the trip. I'll paint you a portrait. It's lengthy but the details of the trip are so wonderful and manifold that I don't want to keep my experience in its entirety hidden from those I love.

Saturday 7:30 a.m. I bolt out of bed...shower, get into my cutest outfit, blow dry and curl my waist length auburn hair and apply an appropriate amount of makeup (never was one to lay it on thick). Giving myself a once over I decide..."yep...adorable. Mwah...love it." 9:00 a.m. Karyn picks me up and we're Dulles bound. She gives me a great card, I'm nervous. I haven't done this in years and I'm honestly afraid I'm not going to cut the mustard. The 6 weeks I'd been running 2.5 miles 4 times a week in the gym were all I clung to as proof I would not collapse under physical stress. Karyn prays with me in the car and I head out to the boarding area. I text Josh to say I'm on time...he replies, "Eggcellent"

11:55 a.m. I see the familiar soft top of Josh's green Wrangler pulling up to the curb and can't help but smile. I'm most myself around him. He's my favorite human to be frank. He smiles, loads my bags for me and we run A MARATHON DAY which includes hauling garbage and mopping floors, runs to Target, Rite Aid and Walmart, that does not end until 12:30 a.m. In truth, it was a pretty accurate forecast of how much sleep we'd be getting nightly while in Juarez. He and I decide to carpet picnic with our Wendy's takeout and then collapse on our respective couches in the living room promptly finding sleep.

Sunday 4:45 a.m. Up and at 'em!!!! I'm now an adrenaline junkie. I have showered, changed...repacked and am out the door with Josh...in search of Dunkin' Donuts coffee, by 5:20am. We get to church at 5:50 because Travis calls us realizing he's left the front door unlocked. We go back to close it. 6:30 a.m. I am now in full-on efficiency mode. Quite funny really. My sunglasses pushed up on my head, I'm in sandals and khakis my backpack a permanent fixture on my back and am chasing down kids for their ID cards and passports. Josh has to take Dave to get verified....something about the skycap thinking he was a minor traveling alone. Annoyance...our flight is also delayed...but only by 25 minutes.

8:00 a.m. Waiting to board. Kids are sleepy, Josh is tuning his guitar, Travis is searching for sustainance. Then I hear, "Okay, okay ...just ...c'mon guys." Josh looks visibly irritated, so in my wisdom, I offer, "C'mon y'all let's get some breakfast." I look at him. "You need something?" He smiles with a look I can read as, "your timing rocks! and yes I do." So I bring back OJ and he's better. 9:00 a.m. - 1:30 p.m. We're in the air...sleep...who me? Yeah, not likely.

1:30 p.m. Landed in El Paso. Josh, Travis and I help return vans with our Missionary in residence, Maria, leaving the kids with the Intern, a girl named Rebekah. 2:30 p.m. LUNCH! So far this trip rocks... the kids are in high spirits, photographing Travis, the youth pastor, as he comes out of the ladies room....the men's room was out of order. Naturally, they found this hee-larry-us. Meanwhile...in the 24 hours I've been in Josh's company I've managed to earn myself a humungous bruise on my left arm from all of his pokes, prods and pinches. We play how we play...ya know. But it's so not fair because he's so much bigger than me!! As we leave from lunch at Jack in the Box, Gus, the master plumber on the project asks Josh and I, "So...how long have you two been dating?" Yeah so right about then I want to swallow my head. I offer some crazy ejaculated response sounding like..."Nah we're just friends." Gus doesn't get the hint, "Oh well, you just seem to really enjoy each other's company." I'm running out of clever things to say so I weakly offer, "Eh well you could call him my favorite pain in the butt." Gus presses further and now Josh is shaking his head chuckling. "I don't know Miss, that's how these things start." So now I'm thoroughly agitated and embarrassed...mercifully Travis enters the scene, "Hey Han, betcha you'd love to be the one to drive over the Mexican border." Bless his heart that man knows just when to interject.

4:00 p.m. we are finally at the dormitory building in Juarez which will serve as home base while we work. We are orientated by Maria...and then haul the luggage and the kids up 40 stairs to the top floor. Surprisingly I still have a bounce in my step...but after Gus' assertions I’m remiss to interact with Josh who rode all the way in the back of our 12 passenger van after lunch and whose gaze in the rear view I avoided as best I could.

5:00 p.m. Kids settling in, unpacking, ground rules for my girls: I run out to the bathroom to put my shampoo in the rack and slam (literally) into Josh in the hall on the way back. (I was wearing flip flops...the floor was very smooth.) He intercepts my out-of-control person and gives a hearty chuckle. I look into his face and the eyes I know so very well and have to laugh too. "Jay...I don't wanna do this whole awkward thing...so can we just skip it this time." He nods in agreement, pinches me, I swat at him and, well...we're back to being us.

Monday - Friday The alarm on my Timex Ironman wristwatch goes off at 4:48 a.m. I groan to myself. It is a quiet alarm that wakes only me. I rise, walk down the hall, shower very quickly and on my way back knock on the boys' door. Now It's 5:00 a.m. Josh's head is right at the door as his bunk is closest; therefore, each morning I am treated to a variety of grunts, shouts, snores and every other manner of indistinguishable retort. Yet...they continued to thank me for waking them and asked that I keep up the good work. Speaking of time...Travis took to hollering "Hey Ironman, what time ya got?" I'd chuckle and report back "11:40 a.m. sir." Later I made the mistake of joking with Josh saying..."Geez I feel like a West Point Cadet answering to POP OFF KNOB...WHAT TIME IS IT." Invariably Josh fouled it up later that same day demanding, "Blow off Dork, What time is it!!!?" Served him right that I refused to give him the time unless he queried in just that fashion for the rest of the trip.

Meanwhile, joy abounded in the simple idiosyncrasies of the kids on our team. Olga, tough as nails and nearly 16. Dark black curls always swept up on top of her head by a gravity defying assortment of clips and pins. She found herself displeased one afternoon when her teammate, Sarah, was returning to where the kids were breaking the blocks with only a small piece of cinder block in hand. These pieces were then put in buckets that Josh, Dave and I were hoisting up a wall onto the first floor roof and used to backfill the top portion of the perimeter wall of the school. From my rooftop vantage point, I saw Olga's face screw up at her teammate as she bellowed, "I KNOW that's not all you brought." I very nearly fell off the roof I was so amused and pulled Josh and Dave in to share the moment. Sarah, our chatty and not quite socially graceful twelve-year-old, is, no doubt, a funny little child. She worked so hard, and MAN you should see her wield a sledge hammer!! However, Sarah has a habit of wearing a totally vacant, drop-jawed expression on her face if she is not being entertained or stimulated continuously. I worked with her throughout the week, even bringing it to teammates' attention as an extra reminder, but the blank stare persisted. Huge applause to Josh who came up with the following regarding Sarah's blank stare issue. "Man oh man, it's like she's got a screen saver or something!!" No surprise we all of us collapsed into laughter with that little assessment. Even Sarah endured the whole thing with grace and ample humor.

Now...regarding the boys...Dave and Derek...they do what the boys do every year on the first work day in Juarez; they vomit. Yes, vomit. They either work too hard, too long, drink too much or too little water (not carrying one's water bottle around the contstruction site equalled automatic repercussions of a negative kind) or some combination of these which, apparently, induces nausea.

After a long day on the site...I should have been tired. As Travis, Matteo (the missionaries' oldest son) and I poured another piling in a rather precarious area of the site, we'd been going for 4 hours since lunch. The Breakfast Song by the Newsboys came on the radio and I found myself singing and dancing and hoisting heavy 5 gallon buckets of wet cement up to travis on the scaffolding. I was light on my feet and danced as David did before the Lord. God's amazing. In times when I should be totally wiped out...He gives me exuberance and poise. Awesome, my God is big.

Late in the week, I was blessed by God to see the softer side of our boys. Both Dave and Derek are 15 years old. Dave is a completely thoughtful young man and despite his hulking figure (he's tall for 15) he's a gentle soul with impeccable timing and sensitivity to the needs of those around him. He'd hand me things I needed when I never expected them. You know how you make an off-handed comment about wanting, needing or liking something...well if Dave heard me say it...and he had it...I'd get it. Simple, sweet and a servant heart. He'll make some young lady very happy one day. Derek,...I believe, is the 2nd of 8 children in his family. His mother is a saint! One of those ladies just called to have a dozen kids. But Derek is a funny, resilient boy. Blond and blue-eyed like all his siblings, and also with the trademark family freckles. I'd have to call him adorable but ... in order to preserve his manliness...we will leave it that Derek is good looking.

There...well, that said, he'd been working on the roof cutting re-bar with the boys whilst the girls and I demolished three walls and a toilet on the neighboring building. The team wanted to build a new bathroom for Rebekah the intern. She helped too. As the official nurse in residence, my ears perked when I heard either Josh or Travis (perhaps both) holler, "MEDIC." I put down my hammer, looked up to the roof and gave them both a look that said, "Okay, what gives?" They were sending Derek down because he'd had a run in with a piece of rebar. I thought little of it until I saw the freckled, blue-eyed, young man wearing an expression more like one would see on a child who had just been frightened half to death. From aloft, the guys shouted manly encouragement. "Suck it up man. Just a scratch. C'mon Derek, whatever, man you're okay." I shot Josh a look that said "Hush up” and “I'll take it from here." He shrugged and I ushered Derek inside.

He had a scratch on his arm; the bar had also knicked his nose and left an inch long scratch just beneath his right eye brow. No wonder the kid was quaking, he'd nearly lost an eyeball! I sat him on a cooler and knelt before him. Swabbing his cuts with an alcohol wipe, I confessed it might sting. He didn't flinch as cleaned his wounds. As I cleaned his brow I just kept telling him, "Its okay, you're okay, nothing serious, you're safe now." I fell in love with this boy as I watched one huge alligator tear roll down his cheek. Now I'm sure if Derek ever reads this he'll want to murder me for making him seem un-manly. But Derek, if you're out there...no way man. You showed me the beauty that comes with showing mercy as Christ shows us mercy. You let me minister to a need you had and, man oh man, did that fill a God-shaped hole in my heart. You are wonderful!

While this flurry of activity became, all-in-a-day's-work...I found myself talking a lot with the Missionary Intern, Rebekah. The more I chatted with her, the more alarmed I became. I know that sounds insane, but it felt like I was looking at myself at age 18. Precocious as heck she is almost too smart such that it weirds people out. I had a student like that once. Naturally, she too was a 'favorite.' But Bekah was special. She and I have spooky amounts in common; including a devotion for serving Christ. She, like me, seems strong and self-assured, self-sufficient. But later in the week we broke it down and I found I was looking at a small girl, away from home for the first time for a full year. She had an unrequited love issue...and a self-sufficiency facade that was suddenly crumbling since I'd arrived. Boy oh man if only she knew how similar our circumstances. We cried together, laughed together, she joined my girls and me for facials that night in our room, with all the requisite munchies and accoutrements. Its an experience to get to minister to my own "inner child" and pray to God she's smarter than I in the choices she makes in the coming years.

Toward the end of our week we donated some instruments and changed the drum heads at Templo Victoria for Pastor Joel. It takes Travis, Josh, Dave and me to get the tuning right. I love that Travis includes me. It is fun to watch him play. The kids, meanwhile, discover a sickly kitten that we deter them from handling. Poor thing. Being a cat lover it is hard to see.

Meanwhile Josh is positively a rock. He is the kind of person who, when he enters your life, you suddenly remember exactly who you are and why you love being that person. He beats the ever loving stuffing out of me...but ya know...he doesn't touch people he doesn't favor. He's still not much of a hugger...but when I'm crying he holds on for dear life. I'm blessed to have a dear friend in whom I can find such strength. Yes...people have their opinions of our friendship and the nature thereof...but Jay and I, well we've left it in God's hands. We take our cues from there.

He, too, let's me cater to him and be his help. I never feel useless when we work together. Both of us slightly acrophobic ('fraid of heights) our first ascent up the rickety ladder to the roof of the school are laughable at best. Thankfully, my fear subsided quickly after the ladder is adjusted. The way down is much less terrifying. I dismount first and Josh afterward. As he prepars to climb down, he begins to recite a steady mantra "Imma die, I'm dyin, I'm dyin" I look calmly up the ladder and say, "C'mon babe,...you got it. I'll catch ya." At that I stick out my arms and he roars with laughter. Without further reserve he descends, pinches me and I swat at him. Yeh...same old.

Night Falls Since wake up call is so blessed early...bed time was usually 9:30 and lights out at 10pm. After dinner, leaders and kids shower, relax and play cards. Egyptian Rat Slap is the order of the evening along with War and a game called Pallace. But the first game is the rowdiest and, therefore, preferred. If you've heard of Slap Jack...yeah there's lots of slamming the hands down on a table to claim a pile of cards when two of a kind or sandwiches arise. Seems harmless enough between 15 and 13 year olds...but how about a 22 year old youth leader the kids call Shrek added to the mix? I am referring, of course, to Josh. Whose comparatively colossal hands would come slapping down to flatten the kids' hands...then, if he did not win the hand, his competitive spirit would invariably get the better of him and he would re-slam his hand, now a fist, on top of the winning offender...namely Derek.

At the end of one particularly heated session, Derek comes whimpering down the hall, playing hand curled up and quivering as if he had palsy. I address what I call his "spooky hand" in front of his peers and Josh asking, "Did Shrek tie you down and make you play?" Derek laughs and shakes his head no. "Well then I have no sympathy...silly." I shoot Josh a look that pleads for him not to insist on breaking the children. He gives me his usual mischievous toothy grin in reply. I roll my eyes, he pulls my hair, I swat at him...you see the pattern?

Bedding Down... Each night before bed, I'd gather my girls up in our room on our bunks, Bibles in hand. The boys didn't do devotions at night but I felt it necessary to keep downloading the girls to make sure frustrations, among other issues, are addressed in a timely way. I take them through James chapter 2 on faith and works, and Philippians 2 on what a Christ-like servant is and why. But more than this we study Proverbs 31. The passage speaks of a wife of noble character...I, of course, amend it to apply to women of noble character. The girls really absorb it. Each morning as we'd do our Pilates stretching, I remind them that though it is early and we have a long day ahead of us, we are in the direct employ of the Living God and we ARE Proverbs 31 women.

On the 7th Day So on Saturday we rested. We took a two and a half hour drive out to Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico. Strangest thing I saw all day, other than the boys insisting on doing their best Smegol impressions in the caves, was my cell phone. The carrier changes from T-mobile to whatever the local carrier in the area. In Carlsbad...all the phone said was US PLATEAU. I found that strange. The caverns were amazing, cool and crisp. Full of odd looking formations, birds and bats. A welcomed reprieve from the heat. We walked the entire 3 miles around. I took pictures of some of the most enormous and unbelievable rock formations I'd ever seen. God's amazing. He simply breathes and these things come to pass. I almost strangle Sarah when she touches a stalagtite...human skin oils can damage their ability to grow. But she is genuinely repentent, so I show her grace and give a mere stern warning.

The Last Day - Old El Paso After a crazy busy Sunday morning of leading worship at the missionary church we were now ready to do our puppet work. I had never done this before but was besotten with a blue-haired googly-eyed disaster I named Esmerelda. We "sang" two songs and then Maria, the missionary guide, asked. "Does one of the puppets want to give it's testimony of faith." Immediately I got four faces staring at me behind our felt curtain with none-too-subtle looks of frightened decline. I, therefore, announced that I would do this Katie Couric-style and interview one of the puppets. Maria would translate.

I was so proud. The kids came up with Romans 3:23 and John 3:16 all by themselves off the cuff. It felt amazing to share the Gospel with the kids who live in the colony. Afterwards, Josh took me aside and told me how impressed he was that I'd come up with that little charade. I grinned for an hour, and thanked the Lord for His creativity.

The afternoon was a whirlwind of activity. We went directly over to the market after church. The kids bought little knick knacks and Bekah and I went shopping for earings. I told her it was a cultural adventure to invest in a huge pair of earrings. I got a pair too. We both looked great. Travis bought a traditional Mexican dress for his daughter, Victoria, who, at that time was still yet to be born. From here it was back to the dormitory to pack up and get on out of Mexico. We stayed in El Paso at a Quality Inn our last night out West. Travis took us out to meet his friend Keith and his wife Pam. We sang for them. They gave us ice cream and shared with us their mountain view from the backyard. Keith played mandolin along with Josh who borrowed his twelve string.

It's amazing to watch Josh and Travis make music. They're so perfectly happy and especially when they are praising God. I'm in awe of this passion. It's a blessing to see. Travis laughs more this night then any other on the trip. He's happy to see Keith, a.k.a. "Stanger." It's nice to see him relax with an old friend. Back at the hotel...it's now 10pm. Time to drown the children. Ha! Yes we were treated to our hotel having an utterly luxurious pool under the starlit sky. I floated with Bekah while Josh and Travis drowned the boys and launched Sarah with gusto. Invariably, Josh could not resist dunking me, but I didn't really mind. In all, what's a pool visit if you've not been dunked at least once.

Later that night, Bekah, Sarah and I snuck out to the Circle K mini-mart to get snack foods. We girls stayed up watching Cosby show re-runs and consuming Oreo cookies and mozarella sticks then fell asleep just before 1:00 a.m.

Leaving on a Jet Plane...or Two Two different alarms went of in our room too dang early. Someone had clearly sabotaged our clock radio. I was annoyed considering I had both my wrist watch and cell phone already programmed. So, twice I came close to unceremoniously hurling the thing across the room. Now awake, I stretched in the queen sized bed and clean sheets and decided, if I was going to have quiet time before God, I'd better just get a move on. I gathered my Bible, pen and CD walkman and sat out on the walkway of our second story block of hotel rooms. The sounds of Bebo Norman filled my ears and tears streamed down my face as I spent time with the Lord. In the distance, a mountain loomed. The same mountain we'd passed every morning on the way to the construction site in the dump. Larger than life the mountain read, yes read, La Biblia es la verdad. Leela! In other words, The Bible is the Truth. Read it! How majestic and simple this statement is all at once. A feeling of meloncholy I had been trying to ignore for two days was finally beginning to get the better of me as I concluded my time with God. I took a deep breath, wiped the tears from my cheeks and made myself re-focus on waking three other girls.

Looking at my watch I see that it's already 7:30 and I have to get the girls out of bed minutes. I shower quickly after nudging each of them out of their slumber. When I emmerge from the steamy bathroom, Olga is folding laundry. "You're turn girlfriend." She smiles at me, grabs a towel and goes to wash up. I poke my head into the adjoining room where I find Sara watching Sponge Bob, or something like that, and Bekah is showering. At 8:15 we arrive in the hotel's cafe for breakfast. Our booth is in the sunshine and overlooks the pool. The pancakes are too dense but the coffee is good. Bekah and I talk about her going to seminary. She gets that "you're leaving" look on her face and I joke her out of her duldrums mostly because I can't withstand much more.

Maria arrives for us at 9:00 a.m. We load into the van and head directly to El Paso airport. Travis has to help take the van back. Josh and I begin checking ourselves and the kids in with a skycap at light speed. Bekah agrees to hold Travis' ID, Boarding pass and carryon until he returns. Josh and the kids hug her goodbye then I do. She's weeping and strangely I'm not. As we disappear into the airport doors, I look over to see Bekah standing there with a pitiful look on her face, crying with a hand over her mouth. "Oh man, I can't take it." I turn on my heels, jog back outside and we collide in a hug. "It's not what the world holds for you, Bekah, it's what you bring to it. You're strong, you can do this." She shakes her head, we laugh, I tear up a little. Then I run after my group. Our flight takes off at 10:09 and we've managed to get everyone through security by 9:25. Not bad if Josh and I say so ourselves. Travis joins us only minutes later and, soon there after, we board yet another S80 jet.

Gang way...! Josh begins to bellow at the top of his lungs as our entire team walks the boarding ramp. "Honestly, ya know what if we do this next year and they stick us on this airline, Hanna I want you to tape me up in a box and just send me FREIGHT!!!" I laughed, couldn't help it. My gaze begged him to set a better example in front of the kids but my mouth curled up and I giggled in spite of myself. From my vantage point just one row behind he and Travis, it was sadly funny to watch the two broad shouldered men jockey for elbow room. Then in what can only be described as an, "Insult to Injury" moment, I watched as Josh, having finally found a semi-comfortable posture for take-off, reached behind his head to bend in the head rest, (one of the only comforts that this airline had provided) only to find that this model plane did not have one. Needless to say Derek and I began laughing only a moment before he made his disappointing discovery. Derek was unfortunately closer, sitting just behind Josh, and therefore received a pinch on the knee. He utterred an "ouch" amid more laughter and even Travis couldn't help himself but to laugh inspite of his scrunched circumstances.

Dallas, Ft. Worth We changed planes in Dallas and had about an hour of downtime. More music, more coffee, more laughing. Olga and I took a trip to the ladies room. On our way out I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and had to crack up. "Was up ma?" Olga asked as I stared bemused at my reflection. I told her, 'Man oh MAN do I look like a youth group leader.' She laughed at me and said I looked cute. I examined my reflection, kakhis, collared shirt, big Mexican earrings, Teva Sandals, sunglasses on my head, backpack permenently on my back and my hair braided over to the side. Pretty much an advert for a Land's End catalogue. "My word, it's contagious." I gave one more hearty chuckle and returned with Olga in time to herd the kids onto our next plane.

Legging it out... Finally, I am exhausted. I fall asleep for about 20 minutes of the four hour flight from Dallas to Newark. As I feel myself falling into the peaceful darkness of slumber, I swear I see a shadow before my eyes. It is Josh’s hand waving up and down in front of my eyes as if to test that I’m actually asleep. Once the hand ascertains that I am, indeed, unconscious, the same hand reaches beyond my head to close my window shade, lingers for a moment and then is gone. So am I. A brief and blissful unconsciousness that lasts until Egyptian Rat slap starts again.

Touchdown….Monday, again The air in Newark, New Jersey made you feel like you were breathing through a sock. The difference in humidity was unbelievable from Texas to the East Coast. We land 50 minutes behind schedule at nearly ten in the evening because some government dignitary is taking off from Newark. “POTUS or Kofi” I offer to the confused group. I, of course, get raised eyebrows. “Ya know ya’ll…POTUS or Kofi.” I explain that POTUS is an acronym for President Of The United States and Kofi is the little guy who runs the United Nations.

The closer I get to Washington, DC the more I seem to drawl in my Virginia drawl and the more I seem to suddenly want to talk about politics again. I notice, while we wait at the baggage claim, that Lance Armstrong has won his seventh Tour de France and smile. The kids return with bags and a dolly to transport them. “Where’s Travis?” Derek explains that he’s complaining to baggage because they have cracked his drum. Josh looks at me with a knowing glance. “I told him not to check the thing. Why do you think I won’t check my guitar?” I nod with a sigh that acknowledges he’s preaching to the choir. Julie meets us out front with Olga’s parents and we, again, find ourselves loading gear into another fifteen passenger van.

Beautiful Diaspora Back at the church parking lot where this whole adventure began, parents are congregated beneath the parking lights. Children leap from the van to be kissed and hugged by parents. I finally begin to cry as I watch as Dave lifts his mother clear off the ground in a big hug and, with abandon, kissed her cheek. I miss that kind of love. Derek’s little sister Rebecca gave each of us welcome home cards. She signed each of them in her own little way. Josh’s card was, of course, green and had pictures of Shrek rendered all over the cover. Mine was pink, had quite a few hearts, but, unlike all the other cards, it was not signed with “we missed you” or “love.” Instead, mine merely read, “I trust you – Rebecca.” How strange and significant. Had she known I’d be keeping her big brother safe and treating him when he was hurt? God knew.

I hug the kids individually as they begin to make their way with their parents to their respective vehicles. It hardly seems possible that nine days have slipped through my fingers. Nine days…nine wonderful, tiring, scary and significant days with four relative strangers and close friends. Funny, though, now they are all kindred spirits, dear to my heart. I’ve heard more than once that mission trips make for what are commonly known as ‘mountain top’ experiences in faith. I had had one. There is no way that I am ever going to be the same.

Mi Mancarai That night as I fell asleep in Julie and Travis’ living room to the sound of Josh snoring, I feel numb. Somehow, in nine days I have forgotten what in the world I was ever thinking when I left my home for Washington, D.C. My heart clearly longed to make this my little place my world. My heart aches as the sound of rhythmic breathing attempts to lull me to sleep, but the wet tears on my cheek are constant, fresh reminders of the life that I had forsaken in favor of pursuing my own intellectual investments. What have I done!!!!

Fight or Flight Tuesday morning arrived just as every other; the sun rises, the world awakens, the planet keeps on spinning. Josh and I ate breakfast with Julie and Travis. She makes the mosst wonderful crepe pancakes. We regale Julie with tales of the week, I describe the other bruises I’ve collected and Josh proudly points out his red-neck suntan.

I calmly gather my things and pack them into Josh’s Jeep. We’ve got a good bit of errand running to do with the portion of the day that remains before I’m bound for the airport. Only after finding out that a flight change would cost an upwards of 200 dollars, I succumb to the inevitable reality that I must go back to Virginia.

The closer we get to the airport, the more difficult it becomes for me to hold back tears. I sniff as quietly as humanly possible, Josh jokes to try and maintain levity. The curbside drop-off point feels like an alien space station. I grab my carry-on while he hoists my bag out of the back. “ Now fly nice, okay, Hanna.”

I can’t bear it any longer. I break into sobs before him and he wraps my heaving form up in his embrace. “I love you, Joshua Lee.” He doesn’t say anything, but I feel his grip tighten. “C’mon now I’ll see you in a few weeks for Tim's wedding.” He makes a silly face and I finally manage a smile.

I check in through tears. I can’t watch the Jeep pull away. Now seated in the boarding area, I cry through my hair over my eyes. I’m losing a battle I had no idea I’d have to fight. My own self. In nine days I realized that I had, after a long battle with myself, my intellect and my faith, rediscovered that I only ever wanted to be the girl that I had been in high school. To quote a dear friend, “Totally sold out for Christ.”

Karyn…I can’t get on this plane! I sent that very same text message to Karyn 10 minutes before the first boarding call for my plane. Flight 1020 was scheduled to leave at 2:30 with non-stop service to Dulles International Airport. My face in my hands I weep as silently as possible while at the same time panicking completely. My chest heaved. I gripped my hands over my mouth.

I pick up the phone and call Travis, no answer. Then I try Julie….same problem. Karyn’s text message wants to know what’s gone wrong. I tell her that I am frightened to death that I can’t be the girl I want to be if I go back to Washington, DC because everything that our friends do at our church feels like some kind of social status booster. I tried as best I could to avoid saying straight away that I felt like everyone was faking it for the sake of being politically correct.

Meanwhile my panic refused to ebb. I tried to pray, I tried to breathe, I begged God to tell me what I was supposed to do. I think hard about my job, that I truly love. The people are wonderful, the office is full of Christians.

But even as I try to think like a rational adult, the little girl who has been so very much in control of my life for the last nine days screams, “Hanna please, Oh God, please don’t go!”

I believe I have perfected the art of silent screaming. I learned it while getting a root canal. I sat perfectly still in the dentist’s chair while the dentist dug with that crazy little file into the canal of my tooth. The first of these procedures I’d had, he hit the nerve and it wasn’t as deadened by the novocaine as it should have been. Blinding pain. There I sat, root canal #2 underway screaming and praying at the top of my lungs in my head for God to protect me from any pain like that.

Here again, I sat screaming wildly inside my own head. Pleading with God to just take my pain. The voice said, “Call Joshua.” I flatly responded, “No.” I returned to insane pleading, and the voice merely repeated, “Call him or you’re not going to get on the plane or go anywhere at all.”

He picked up the phone in his usual fashion, he belches. I cannot reply with my usual disgusted remark. Weakly, I manage to say his name. “What’s up?” I get through the words, “I can’t get on this…” before I collapse into hysterical sobs that rob me of any ability to make noise at all.

He lets the hysteria subside and very steadily insists that I get on the plane. I beg him to remind me of why on Earth I’d want to do that. His reply is instantaneous and manifold. His reassurance simple, straight forward and ever ready. He stays talking with me as I board the plane and until the stewardess has to ask me to conclude my discussion. The sound of his voice is about the only thing keeping me sane. I muse at that fact since I know I should have more faith in God and His plan than to panic so profusely.

It takes 82,000 lbs of thrust…
I love to fly. Take off is my favorite thing. Your standard commercial airliner requires approximately eighty-two thousand pounds of thrust to successfully take off. This flight marked the very first flight I have ever taken where I have cried straight through take off. Duty-bound, but barely reassured, I land in a very foreign feeling Northern Virginia only forty-three minutes later.

I collect my bags and wait for Karyn who arrives. I cry with her, hug her and she asks what I want to do. I do not want to go home. I can’t quite face it yet. I go with her to a church service for young adults that night after a quiet dinner and coffee. That night as I sleep in her apartment I cry and pray and wonder.

I reflect back on what possible purpose God could have for sending me on this trip if only to return me to a place where I feel its impossible for me to be used in as powerful and affective a fashion as I had those last nine days. A very familiar part of my heart ached. It was a piece of me that had begun aching about two weeks previous and that I had not been cognizant of for many years beforehand. It was the piece of me that had been, in effect, shut away by years of abuse, misuse and estrangement from the original calling to which my heart was beckoned.