Little royal purple duffle,
Holding four books and Nikon D40
Faded black carry-on suitcase, front zipper doesn’t close
Holding tropics winter wardrobe, Asics and flats
Rugged Roxy micro-floral backpack, with folder, paper,
Small bags peek from the outside pocket,
Revealing half a Whittakers hokey pokey chocolate bar, too.
Heart wrestling with God
Longings, wants, desires, for things not happening
Sin revolting against what God said,
Persuading out of obedience to go where He says
Yet He’s kind,
He’s saying those longings in my heart
They’re not sin, just the wrong timing–
It’s okay to want to see the world, to be with someone, too.
I just need to trust He satisfies…
Suitcases tumble down the grey carpet stairs,
Lumbered into car 8:00am tomorrow morning
Lugged up to Auckland, New Lynn,
Slouched on floor of the guest room of aunt and uncle’s home,
Chucked into a car trunk again, International Airport
On a breathless Sunday morning.
Grasping family hands, check-in counter, baggage carousel,
Air Tahiti Nui, suspended in air above ocean.
Asphalt or cement, luggage cart, car driving on right side of road.
House on water front, ocean lullaby on Sunday night
With Anna, lovely wonderful, soon.
But it’s not physical dimensions,
Instead, it’s the vision the pastor prayed at Hope Centre on Sunday night,
Suitcases carrying our spiritual possessions,
Rich in inheritance, proudly sent, honored, loved.
That is what we are
That is what we will be
That is what we take on a missions trip to Tahiti.
And through drooping eyes of 11:12pm
I type, I trust, I realize,
I will lose this wrestling match,
My longings, they will be fulfilled.
Because that’s just who God is.
Photo: Bangkok International Airport, July 2011