In my tropical childhood, I climbed the front-yard tree. Higher. For solitude. Rest. To simply be. Sitting on knobby branches amid green leaves, pink blossoms.
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Higher
Category: Memoir
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This is why
“I think this is why I’m here.”
We heard it more than once in Karachi. From expatriates on short assignments. With various companies. Consulates. Schools.
They heard about the international church meeting in our house. And came on Fridays for worship. Cross-cultural living in this “hardship assignment” made them stop and consider what’s crucial. In light of eternity.
Myrna* was one of those. The religious environment in Pakistan made her more aware of spiritual things.
When asked about her faith, Myrna replied, “I’ve always been a Christian.”
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Faithfulness
Faithfulness. My parents just celebrated a milestone. Their 66th wedding anniversary.
Sixty-six years traveling together across oceans. Living in tropical urban centers and American towns.
A journey marked by great joys. Victories.
And deeply painful losses. Hurts. Dark nights.
The thread running through it all? Faithfulness.
