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Crossing Cultures Devotional Memoir

Makeshift altar

Our firstborn was 14 weeks old when we moved overseas. En route to Pakistan. 

The week before we left America, I held her close and wept. Quietly. With the door shut. In the bedroom at my in-laws’ home.

I asked the Lord, “What are we doing to our little girl?” 

The weight of leaving what we knew and going to the unknown hit me hard that day as I rocked Becca in my arms. 

But we finished packing our trunks and suitcases. Then boarded the Thai Airways flight across the ocean.

On our way. 1992.
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Devotional

Broken bowl and the Potter

The simple Indonesian rice bowl broke. 

It was a “free with purchase of dish detergent” blue and white china bowl. So common and ordinary. A reminder of my childhood. 

Plain rice bowl on batik.

But it slipped from my hands, hit the marble countertop in our Delhi flat and broke in two. The last straw in a long day, week, month…year. 

And I broke.

Ordinary, simple vessel on the floor in pieces.