Peripatetic World Traveler and Ecclesiastical Agitator Returns Home

We’re back from Europe — Paris, Versigny, Geneva, Lausanne, Nion and 24 hours in London — and I’d like to say that the bags are all unpacked, souvenirs nicely wrapped and distributed, mail sorted, bills paid, phone calls returned, and the house in its usual fine (nay, impeccable) order after only three days on the Palouse.

Really.  I mean, I really would like to say all of that.  But I can’t.  And you wouldn’t believe me even if I did.

What I will say, though, is that one of the things I came to realize during our two weeks in Europe is that the most rigorously responsible thing, the most demonstrably disciplined thing, is not always the best thing.  Sometimes the best thing to do is to set order aside and simply rest, reconnect with people you’ve missed, and, in my case, get fingers to flyin’ after a month or so of not writing.  There’s lots to talk about, campers, and it’s time to get going.  The suitcases will find their way — empty, even — back to the attic within the week, but the topics of the day just can’t wait.

First among them:  My thanks to the Lord Jesus for his faithfulness on our trip.  People with fibromyalgia, immunopolyarthritis, and a long list of spinal problems — that is, people like me — generally don’t fare well on long trips that involve lots of walking, stairclimbing, and carrying bags through airports.  But a wonderful God — that is, the Lord of all comfort and mercies, who loves me — gave me the measure of strength and stamina I needed not only to get through it, but to enjoy every single minute.  God is good, and Jeff and I will never forget this time together or the manifold blessings the Spirit poured out on us as we made our way through teeming cities and pastoral villages and museums and plates of escargot, glasses of wine, and roughly 417  more croissants than a body has a right to.

Given my inexperience as a traveler and inability to speak French, I’m pretty sure a few people won’t forget us, either.  But thanks be to God for it all anyway, and I’m glad you’ve stuck around to see where the Winds are blowing . . .

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