Friday, March 28

Up at 2:30 a.m., in a taxi by 4:00, on a plane by 4:45, and the 26-hour trip home was underway. From Kosice to Vienna was a little more than one hour. Easy. Then came a five hour layover. I found a plug-in behind a pay phone, sat myself down on the granite floor, pulled out my laptop, and wrote our family’s next newsletter. Oh my. Getting up two hours later was a challenge for this stiff old granny. But, hey! I got the newsletter done. Wahoo!!

The next leg of the journey was an 8 ½ hour jaunt across the Atlantic. The airline on which I traveled may as well be nicknamed “Sardine Airlines” for the amount (or lack thereof) of leg room. But guess what? I had no seat partner for this entire trip. That meant I could stretch out a little bit. When that happens on long trips like this, I consider it a real treat.

The plane landed in Toronto and suddenly I was surrounded by English speakers, English signs, English everything. After being away for a month, my brain had a wee bit of readjusting to do. Another three hours passed, but they were quick because I had to claim my suitcases and take them through customs before transferring to my next flight.

By this time, I was running on sheer adrenalin at the thought of getting home. My brain was starting to go into a fog so, when I found another plug-in, I did some work that took no thinking power. With about 9,000 emails in my “delete” box waiting to be permanently deleted, I figured this was a good time to start.

Have your legs ever felt crawly? That’s how mine felt for the 5-hour flight to Vancouver. They’d had enough sitting. They were now ready to get up and get moving, but that’s easier said than done while flying at 40,000 feet. Oh well – thank goodness for pressure socks and the ability to walk an aisle to the bathroom!

My son and his wife picked me up in Vancouver. The best part about coming home was seeing my grandbaby, Anna. She’d turned three months old and had changed a fair bit since I left. Poor little thing – while sitting in the car on the way home, she studied my face for a long time and then burst into tears and a pitiful, scared cry. Do I look that bad after traveling for so many hours? Or has Grandma been gone too long? I’m afraid it’s the latter. Well, maybe not. Maybe it’s the former, too.

“Thank You, Father, for the safe trip. Thank You for all the experiences You gave, and for Your wonderful presence over the past month. Continue the good work You began in women’s lives in Europe through the conferences there. And now, Lord, once again give me words to speak to women in North America. And may they capture the vision of how they can participate in building Your kingdom overseas, too. Amen.”