"Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things-trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones."
-Puddleglum in The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis*
So I've been in America for two weeks now, and it feels more like I've been here for months and months...or that I never left at all. In some ways, it almost feels like I press the "pause" button when I leave, and then just hit "play" again whenever I'm back. I mean, I know things have changed, and I know I have changed a ton over this year...but sometimes it feels like all that happened "over there" doesn't even count in this world.
It's hard, because I come back and I see things with different eyes and Bangkok remains on my heart every day...and yet all it takes is a little bit of "normal" and I find myself questioning everything all over again.
Did all that I experience over this year really happen?
Am I just crazy for believing, crazy for staying, crazy for choosing that life over this one?
It breaks my heart that things come at a cost, and I wish everyone could understand and experience all that God's done -- around me and inside of me. But the bottom line is, deep down, I know. Even if it looks strange or selfish or foolish, I know that God has called me to follow His heart. And I know that He is worthy of my trust and worthy of my life. And I know that, one day, when we all look back on this, there will be no regrets.
I know.
