Prairie Vacationing

I've been taking tennis lessons all month, and loving it. When I fall asleep I dream of backhands and volleys and overheads. Yesterday at 4 a.m., my alarm woke me from my happy dreams of tennis matches, and I jumped out of bed (well, maybe slowly rolled out), and headed to the Indianapolis airport. As I drove along the winding roads on the hour-long trip north, I was brimming with anticipation. I was going home after nearly a year!

Our plane touched down in Kansas City just about as the sun was coming up. I strode through the plane's exit door with my spindly long legs that were expecting the heat of the Great Plains. Instead it was pretty chilly for this time of year! Nevertheless, I kept onward. I left the gate area, expecting my mom to run and hug me. But there was not a single soul waiting for anyone. Nevertheless, I kept onward. I walked outside of the terminal, shivering. My mom called to say she would be there in 15 minutes. Nevertheless, I kept onward. It was barely dawn, after all.

She arrived after a few minutes, and we drove home to Topeka. I've always loved that homecoming drive--when I returned on breaks during college, when I came back after China, and even now. As we drive west, the view is pretty spectacular. The sky is the most vivid blue in all the world, I'm convinced. The rolling hills and farmland are a hazy green. There's so much open space that you feel a bit freer and more relaxed. Time stands still, and all seems right with the world. How many times have I made this drive now after being in far-off lands?

I look forward to coming home and recalling memories that seem to tumble out of each room in my Mom's house or at each landmark we pass in Topeka. Walking into the "inner-city" high school each morning with my sister, anticipating another school day filled with German, history, math, and drama classes; the old halls seemed alive with a blur of excitement. Playing noisy games of baseball and hockey with the other neighbor kids on our block. Getting scolded by older folks as the same neighbor kids and Andrea and I would race along the grassy back alley between the houses, jumping fences and causing even more noise. Looking for Andrea and finding her high up in the big Bradford Pear tree at the front of the house. Jumping through the sprinkler on hot, windy summer days. Waiting out the storms in the basement with my family as the tornado sirens wailed. Launching stuffed animals off the balcony inside the house to help them fly. Creating obstacle courses weaving around the yard. Drawing the longest hopscotch trail down the street with my best friend. Having nothing but time to play, laugh, think, dream, and grow.

And so I come home to all of these memories, wondering where all the time has gone. Would 6 year-old Laura be happy about what 26 year-old Laura is today? Had I ever imagined I would be a Christian, study several languages, explore Asia, be educated, and love people well because of God's love? A part of me wants to feel jealous about 6 year-old Laura who was so free, uninhibited, happy, and without a care in the world. But then I realize that in my ways I haven't changed too much. I still play, laugh, think, dream, and grow. I'm even freer, happier, and cast all my cares to God. Twenty years later life isn't as simple, but it is still colorful--with added colors, textures and tones. Yes, 6 year-old Laura would be glad.

On that note, I am off to have an adventure with my Mom! Here are some pictures of late. I'll add some Kansas pictures next time!


Evening campfire on a cliff overlooking Lake Monroe.


At my Chinese friends' wedding on an American farm!