Categories
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.