Overdue Photography of my Summer in Indonesia

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Morning

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Today I appreciate cereal. I have missed it, and am very happy to have it back. I have involuntarily become a morning person since arriving back too. As I type it is 8:34 am, I woke up at 7am. Normally this would not be a very common occurrence for me, but jet lag has messed this all up. The only consolation is that the Today Show around 7 or 8, is actually better than the Today Show at 9 or 10. So I watch. Being up this early, I see what David meant, "He is like the light of morning at sunrise..." When traveling you see a lot of mornings. And to me they are all special. It doesn't matter how long I have slept or if I have slept, His mercies rise with the sun.
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Most days

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I hadn't seen pictures of China in a long while, until today. It hit me that what I was looking at was still there even though I was not. That sidewalk, or that building, that tree even is still there. And I have some slight 2 months worth of memories of those sidewalks and trees, 2 months worth of passing by it most days. During that time, I wish I had told myself that I would miss those moments. Maybe, like I'll miss these moments now, that pass in my life. But, I guess, what I am wanting to convey today is that looking at something ordinary and then later thinking how extraordinary it really is/was, is so strange. I wish I had taken a picture of just the sidewalk of the city where I was in China. A red and yellow sidewalk design. And funny enough I really miss it. Sidewalks here are nothing like sidewalks there. I walked them just the same. Which still really amazes me. I miss walking on it everyday. Lucky for you, I found a picture online...
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Catch up or ketchup

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I will always say what a blessing coming home has been. It seems perfectly crazy for me to say this, because in most ways, I have felt the worse I have ever felt in the month of being home. I think alot of the time it felt similar to having an arm or leg fall asleep and then trying to wake it up again..it is something that takes a while, and there are sharp pricks along the way. I can state, very convincingly, that God is true to his Word; he is close to the brokenhearted. Extremely close. I cannot say what exactly made coming home so hard. It was just God. It was just China. It was just making myself more him and less me. It was saying "yes, Lord" even when everything hurt and I wished that I could beg, but I didn't. It hurt. I was ripped in two, and I didn't know which half I really was. I didn't know which half to really cling to. But I didn't need to find out. Gratefully. Psalms has been incredible to me lately. One verse I love, I read
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