This Sunday I am home, tucked into a not-quite-warm-enough bed on an unseasonably cold night. It's not quite 9:30, but my tired bones have been begging for sleep after a just-under-36-hour trip to Nashville, over 1/3 of which was spent dodging orange cones and half-swearing under my breath at the construction on all 3 interstates.
I am half-delirious with lack of sleep, and equally so because of the amount of joy crammed into these 2 short days ... a husband who decided last minute to make the trek, to allow me time to write & process the book of James, chapter 4, in the car and make (finally!) a healthy dent in an end-of-semester paper ... a hundred hugs from a half-dozen people who we love more than words, who after a long night spent separately celebrating, Price said more eloquently than I could - "there is just no way to recreate what we have, with these friends who you can tell what they are thinking just by looking at them, and who can finish your sentences for you."
And so it is in that spirit, along with the sluggish stomach that comes from an equally-delightful Cinco-de-Mayo trip to Las Palmas with my sweet family, that I write these words tonight. I cried a few tears as we drove through downtown and it seems like the short trip and the tempting snapshot of a summer spent back on familiar roads made it even harder to leave.
But leave we did, and as we drove by the big silver arch and wound our way through familiar roads to our favorite place to eat in the Gateway City, I remarked how truly lovely it is to be in two cities in one day and call them both "home".