Some days I feel like I lost months of my life when I went to China.
Like when people talk about things that happened while I was actually away. Or when I look at photos of my friends, and I'm not there. Or even when I think about the time I lost fluffling around and not sorting stuff out once I was home. And some days I still find myself feeling like a stranger in this land. When I think of all this, the 'fun', the sun, the inside jokes I replaced with stress, suffering, homesickness and tears while I was planning, serving, and trying to fit back into life, I get really sad, and some days wonder how different life would be now if I had never gone.
But then, some days I'll be listening to my iPod and a song will come on that I remember listening to in China. And some days I look at the photos on my bedroom wall and see the most precious faces in the world smiling back at me. And some days, I open my journal and remind myself of the joy I found in the blind orphans and the irreplaceable relationships I made. And some days I look at where I am now, just six months after coming home, and know that its because of all of this. China. And its on these days that I remember, no matter how much fun I think I missed out on, that nothing could ever replace those days I spent in Fangshan.
And Im reminded that this story is a never ending one.
I really love your perspective on life Beckie :)
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