Forgetting the Little Things, or "And Here We Go"

9.3.08

The first day of my journey. My bags were packed, I'd made my lists (checked the twice). And I had everything I needed. Everything, but one little thing. A pen. It had crossed my mind in the car, but I didn't think of it again until I was in line for the security checkpoint. That's a great way to start this voyage overseas.

Actually, it's an awful way. Forgetting the Little Things.

Learning to tend to the "little things" in life is one discipline I hope to nourish while I'm on this trek. When you tend to those "little things" in life, the Big Problems don't seem so big. Or at least they might be more managable.

So.. How did I get all this on paper, you ask? Well, obviously in the security line, its too late to turn around and frisk your family for any such utensils. I was forced to wait it out and hope to find something in the terminal.
In the line, I witnessed someone be turned back and told to wait, and someone else, escorted to the screening room. As I put my belongings into those tupperware containers, I checked in the recesses of my mind to ensure I didn't forget that pocketknife in the inner zipper.

Luckily, it was smoothsailing through the checkpoint, so I slipped on my shoes and headed for the first -- and only -- convenience store in sight. (and it was.)
When I asked the expressionless cashier for the pens, she lifted a finger to a bucket on the otherside of the counter. After rumaging for a bit, and realizing there were no more than three varieties, I selected a green pen with gel around the finger grip and a button that lights up the gel in 4 flashing varieties. The Carabeiner Clip on the end, I thought, will help remind me to remember the little things.

And the "Beverly Hills" screenprint, and the $9 pricetag will help me remember forgetting isn't cheap! Ouch!


In all my preparations so far, I've kept my emotions very even-keeled. Honestly, this has prevented me from feeling much at all. I'm certainly not considering it a virtue -- more survival than anything.
But now I find myself 1000 miles from the California Coastline I know and love. Nothing but Blue stretched above and below me as I chase the sunset to my new Horrizon.

It's really starting to hit me, I think. I'm now half-way through this flight (I'm guessing; two movies, and the top score in Bejeweled... sounds about half way). And I'm realizing, as I look around and see no westerners, that being surrounded by Asians and a language I don't understand is a semi-permanant condition. It's not something I can easily walk away from..

There's a man in the scriptures who is only mentioned once. He is known, by most, only for his prayer. Among other things, he asks that the Lord "expand his horrizons." Though I don't agree with the financial-success-focused spin much of the American Church has linked with this passage (or the way the prayer was marketed as a self-help success formula to the profit of those with publishing rights), a piece of its message still resonates with me.
I pray that the Lord expands my horrizons this year in my capacity to Love. I want to see him enlarge my ability to see outside myself. To see and love others as they are. To be able to walk in their shoes.

And I know he'll do this. I say that because I know Love is always his vision. The Ancient Israelites hold a name for God that speaks volumes of his faithfulness. "Jehovah Jireh" -- meaning, "the Lord will Provide." Throughout my years on this journey-called-life this has been a name I've cleft. To me, it means God cares about the little things. And it teaches me that so should I.

As I finish this entry, the sun has almost won the race below the Horrizon. The blue sky is broken by an orange glow, and the glistening pacific is masked by a sea of light, scattered clouds. The cabin is dark now, and my new friend Michael is catching up on some sleep before he arrives home in Taipei.
I would not be able to finish my writing tonight if it were not for the soft green glow of my $9 pen. God has many lessons for me this year, and I am excited, anxious, scared, and determined to meet each in the fullest.

This is my journey, and I am honored that you're the least bit interested in joining me. I thank you, maybe in advance, for reading. My humblest hope is that it in some way may encourage you in your journey.

Here's to feeling life is more than a Destination

Here's to finding the most out of the Little.

Here's to knowing this journey is meant to be spent with Fellow Journeyers.

And Here We Go..