AC849. After flying for 35 years, this will be the last time the flight goes up. The pilot is retiring, and when the announcement came over the PA system there was a smattering of applause and I thought, How appropriate. Every beginning is an end.
Thus far the flight home has been uneventful, save for one brief encounter with a young Mexican girl on her way home from backpacking in Europe. She asked what I had been doing in England and I had my first shot at describing my experience at L’abri.
“It sounds very spiritual.” She commented.
“Yeah, it is.”
Right now I am busying my hands with crocheting and my mind with old Switchfoot songs. There is an in-flight movie-gosh, I miss Tuesday night film nights already-The Spiderwick Chronicles. Complete and total rubbish. And I gave it a chance: I listened to it in Spanish and French in the hopes that it would become more palatable, but to no avail.
Katherine gave me a deep red gerber daisy before I left. It’s sitting on my fold-down tray in a cup of tepid water, keeping me company. As I glance at my watch, my thoughts are divided: thinking both of how everyone at L’abri will gather together for dinner tonight and also of all the things I want to tell my little sister tonight. My thoughts and prayers are in England, but I am glad to say that my body will be home.
I wrote the above while flying home. And now I am home. Listen to this song. If I were ever to create the token musical photo montage of L’abri, this would be the song that would play.
Enjoy, and while you listen, I’m gonna go buy some hiking boots.