Dave and I are home after a week in Italy. Even now, just 24 hours after departing, it feels a bit like a dream. The fact that we were there to help friends with a project still feels surreal. Last summer, the four of us sat together around a table after dinner – the candles burnt low, dishes scraped clean, glasses half full – while the kids played inside, their laughter carried out onto the terrace by the warm sea breeze. We had all traveled together to the seaside at the end of our own family’s vacation. As we sat together, the project came to life. We talked about how it could work. We discussed logistics and timelines and possibilities. Even as we spoke the words aloud, they felt half-hearted and full of idealistic hope but not grounded in actual reality. We dreamt together but doubted the dream would come to fruition.
And now, it has begun. I hope to be able to share all of the details soon. What I can say is that it’s going to be a long process with many weeks of travel ahead. I can also say that it’s a bit overwhelming and the – now, very real – logistics feel staggering. Even still, it is fueled by a pinch-me level of excitement that this is really happening. Long ago, the soil of Italy imprinted itself deeply on my soul and I have ever since had an undercurrent of longing to return. Many years ago, this is the land that brought me back to life as I walked through a long, dark valley. Back then, as I poured myself into planning the trip and attempting to learn the language, a renewed hope ignited within me. Over the years of visiting since, we have met new friends who now feel like an extension of family. We have explored off-the-beaten-path towns and places that are so full of culture and rich history, I can hardly wrap my finite mind around the vastness of this place. We have marveled at the breathtaking beauty of the land and the deep heritage of family ties within it.
Even as much as I long to return as often as possible, I also still struggle deeply with fear when I fly over the sea. I have had countless panic attacks over the ocean and have prayed and begged God to remove this fear from my life so many times. This latest trip was no exception. I was gripped with fear on the first flight of the journey. Physically trembling, I prayed as worship music filled my headphones. After landing safely, I quickly texted friends who I knew would pray faithfully as we journeyed on the long flight over the Atlantic. I physically felt their prayers for peace and protection during the next nine and half hours. Even still, I asked the Lord why He had given me such a longing for a place so very far away. I told Him I didn’t know how I could keep making the trip with so much fear blocking my path.
This morning, as I read a book I’ve read during Lent for years, I was freshly struck by Alicia Britt Chole’s words:
In short, I ache. I ache for my Bridegroom. I ache to live every waking moment conscious of His presence.”
– 40 Days of Decrease, Alicia Britt Chole
Her words made me realize that it’s when I’m flying through the air, trapped in a metal tube, with zero control over my circumstances, that I depend wholly and completely on Him. I cling to Jesus in those moments. I cry out to him in desperation and He meets me with peace and assurance and reminders of His past faithfulness.
In my everyday life, I don’t often enough ache for Him. I run from commitment to commitment. I meet pressing deadlines. I answer the constant onslaught of communication via text and email. I worry over details. I forget to rest.
Maybe this is why He keeps leading me back to a faraway land, only accessible by an airplane. For it’s in that plane – the place where I’m most uncomfortable and afraid, where I feel most frail and incapable – that I am most acutely aware of His presence. And, in the way that only God can do, He uses all things for our good and His glory. He redeems my moments of fear and meager offerings of faith to remind me that He is near. That He is faithful. That I can trust Him. That He has called me by name and I am His.
Where He leads, I will always follow. Even if my knees are shaky and my heart is pounding. Simply because I ache. I ache to live every waking moment wholly aware of His presence.