See Something More

I was sitting on the living room floor watching You've Got Mail when I was suddenly inspired. I saw Meg Ryan's short, bouncy blond hair, and I said to myself, it's time.  I was also inspired on thanksgiving day because of that dog show that comes on after the Macy's day parade. Just a few days before thanksgiving, I was out and about with my mom when I saw my hair in the reflection of the car windows. Some days, curly hair just does weird things. On this day, my kinks were falling over my shoulders in just the right way that I immediately thought about those things you see on the Internet of people who look like their dogs. "I'm look just like a cocker spaniel!" I said to my mom, and she laughed so hard that she couldn't even say, "Of course not, you look fine, honey." Because that wasn't what she was thinking anyway. I really did look like a cocker spaniel, and we both ended up laughed so hard that we couldn't get a hold of ourselves

"Dad, did you get new glasses?" I asked. He paused to think for just a moment before replying, "Yeah, I guess they are new to you!" The newness for him has worn off by now, but a lot has changed in a year, and I am just now noticing it all for the first time.  Take the new sink knobs in the kitchen for example. You don't have to turn the left one ten degrees backwards anymore to get the water to stop dripping.  There's a new Tropical Smoothie Cafe right outside our neighborhood and they finally finished that interstate exchange where there has been construction for what seemed like twenty years.  There are all new songs on the radio and new movies and shows that people are talking about.  The other day at the checkout in the grocery store, my mom stuck her credit card in this device, and it kept her card and wouldn't let go until the transaction finished . "What is that?" I exclaimed, and she explained that the new chip technology helps prevent

"This world is not my home, I'm just a passin' through..."  I hum the simple song in my head and think it's a little too upbeat for the moment.  I've never been more homesick in my whole life for a home I haven't even been to yet. Coming home to America after a year in Africa makes me feel a little bit like I just don't belong here. Or there really. It's like my heart was made for somewhere that I just haven't found yet.  Don't get me wrong: I love being in America and I love being in Africa. I'm really happy in both places, but I can't help but feel like neither one if them is where I ultimately belong. Like where I want to stay forever.  I watch the news flashes about events in Paris. I see images of Syrian refugees and hear the heated debates of angry people who won't look others in the eye, who are so stuck in their own fear that they can't even look past it to actually see what matters. I think about the people I know a

Little white bunches of baby's breath flowers line the aisles and pink rose petals sprinkle the floor. The light streaming through the windows illuminates the colors and makes everything look absolutely glorious, like each item in the room is  waiting in breathless anticipation to witness the covenant that is about to take place. All the girls spend all morning getting ready to look their best for the occasion, and even the boys dress up all dapper and proper. But nothing compares to the beauty of the bride.  I have never seen her look more beautiful in her entire life.  My best friend, the bride. She is always beautiful, but there was just something spectacular about her today, and it wasn't just the perfectly fitting white dress, the delicate lace, the way the veil fell over her shoulders. It was the sparkle in her eye of delight and desire. She loves her groom, and that's what makes her beautiful.  And what's more amazing is this: Christ calls us his bride.  "As

I couldn't believe how little time it took. It was Monday morning, and I woke up before my alarm, so I got up and got to work. I had luggage to unpack and stuff to find a place for. I had a financial report to fill out and send. I had that list of emails that were still sitting in my inbox because I said, "Oh, I'll take care of that when I get back to the States." I was busy, busy, busy all day long - talking on the phone, communicating about times and places to visit, and organizing all the things I need to do during furlough.  At the end of the day, I had gotten a lot accomplished. I guess. But I felt terrible. I hadn't left the house, I had hardly talked to anyone face to face, and it was only Monday. I have only been in the US one day, and I am already back into old habits . That's how life in America is for me - fast-paced, always busy, always having to do something. That's not how life in Africa is. Africa has taught me to slow down, that time is irr

After being a white girl in Africa for the past ten months, I really just wanted to blend in for a change, but even that was proving to be harder than I thought. I was in a train station in Europe on my way to visit a friend and find some rest in Germany before continuing on to my final destination in the USA. This whole train travel thing was new and exciting to me until I realized that traveling with two checked bags and two carry-ons is easy for a plane. Not so much for a train.  After managing to get all my luggage on board while looking like a ridiculous tourist, I sat down in my assigned seat. The lady next to me just stared. After an awkward pause, she said, "Long trip?" "Yes," was all I could breathlessly mutter, already feeling like the stand-out person that I didn't want to be. She kept staring. "Do you have any warmer clothes?" I looked down at my light weight jacket and capri pants with chill bumps on my legs. Everyone else was in their win