Monday, January 21, 2008

Sunday Scribbles: “Fellow Travellers”

I rejoiced when I saw this week’s Sunday scribbles prompt, it seemed so easy, so prefect. I’ve loved the travels and journeys I’ve taken. These adventures have been better because of people I’ve taken them with and the people I’ve met. Yet two days have slipped by and I am still struggling. The problem isn’t a lack of something to say but too much.
There is summer team and the hours upon hours spent in a van with in 02 and 03 or going for a meal with Matthew and a group nationals in rural China without an interpreter. The beautiful days driving with my family from Ontario to Nova Scotia or climbing Mt. Fuji with a group of Aussies I had just met. These journeys have been greater because of those who have been with me. Yet, there is one companion who stands out from among the rest, my Missions Buddy, Selinda.
The airport is a buzz of foreign languages, a hub of diversity. It’s June 2nd, 2004, we are on day two of our travels and too exhausted to appreciate that we are "almost" (I use that term loosely) at our destination. The night before we had been on a 12 hour flight across the Atlantic and now we sat in the Frankfurt airport waiting for our flight to Johannesburg, South Africa, that would be followed by a five hour drive to a small Bible college campus just outside of Manzini, Swaziland, our home for the next five months.

We knew nothing of the adventure ahead of us. It was as if we were on a roller coaster that was slowly clicking to the top, just moments from cresting and plunging on one wild ride. And what a ride it was. There were ups and downs. We learned a new language (Selinda more than me) and discovered a different culture. We saw lions, giraffes, zebras and elephants. Shared our apartment with geckos, and had a cobra in our bathtub (which didn't live long after that). We hugged AIDS orphans and dipped our feet in the Indian Ocean. The most precious memories are that Selinda was there to share them. Memories of a hug when bad news came from home, of just walking down dusty red dirt paths, cooking meals together, and just living life. It wasn’t perfect but it was real. I love my missions buddy!

For more "Fellow Travellers" stories visit Sunday Scribbles

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