I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something feels different this time. Leaving, I mean.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve been making many trips to the airport to send others off myself. Perhaps it’s the realization that we really are leaving. That when we get on that plane, things change, whether we like it or not, whether we intend for it or not. Perhaps it’s the realization that we’re all so far away. Friends in New York and Boston with the impending hurricane, and I can’t do anything about it except pray. Perhaps it’s an uneasiness about how things will change and whether the best days have gone by. Perhaps it’s because I’ve now got two years’ worth of experience, mistakes and heartache behind me, and leaving thus takes on a new significance. You don’t appreciate what you have till it’s gone.
They say that home is where the heart is. With every plane that lifts off the runway, a piece of my heart is taken somewhere across the oceans, to a different part of the world. This time back, I found home here in Singapore. With the people I love, the people by whom I am so graciously loved, a people so dearly loved by Love Himself, with a passion and a vision to see them come to know Him more… It’s good to be home. But all good things come to an end, and all mountaintops exist only because of the valleys below. Slowly but surely, as those I love get on those planes and leave, home as I know it also disperses.
It’s all a matter of perspective, really. Home diluted? Thinned out, weakened? Or strengthened, beautiful? Stretched out across the globe, expanding territorially, extending its influence.
I think I need to process this a little more before I can express exactly what I’m feeling. I’ll make another attempt in a day or two. And then I’m gone. Oh man.