Traveling Through

My husband planned our honeymoon.
I had no idea where we were going up until the last minute.
I only knew that it would be much warmer than our October weather.
I remember finding a few summery dresses at a vintage shop and a flowered skirt.

My husband booked our trip as part of a tour.
All of our hotels were booked in the three places we would go that week.
My husband planned a honeymoon trip to Mexico.
We were scheduled to land in Mexico City, travel to Taxco, and then on to Acapulco.

Neither my husband or I are fond of laying on the beach.
Fair skin and hot sun do not mix.
The tour was perfect since there was much to see and do rather than sit on a beach all day.
I remember that the tour group sent him a package which included a small duffle bag.

That bag, with the tour name on front, held the camera he bought before we were married.
Inside, he had all the lenses that went with the camera, extra film, and a leather camera strap.
I remember that my suitcase had a name tag with my new last name.
I had to do a double take to remind me that it was indeed me.

We landed in Mexico City and needed to get a taxi to go to our hotel.
We sat in the back seat, as the driver spoke to us in his best English, which was hard to understand.
I remember him driving along the larger streets and then going along some back roads.
It felt like the taxi was going very fast.

By moving my head just a little bit, I was able to see the speedometer.
I was shocked when I saw 87…89, 90…92, 94 as the dial inched its way upward.
I leaned over to my husband so I could tell him what I was seeing.
The driver swerved at that moment and I was forced in the other direction.

Finally, I was able to point to the speedometer.
I guess my eyes said it all.
He’s going 90 miles an hour, I whispered, hoping the driver could not understand me.
I wondered why my husband did not seem concerned.

Instead of saying something to the driver or consoling me in any way, my husband laughed.
I don’t think that’s funny! I remarked with a bit more force than I intended.
He was still laughing and I was getting more annoyed.
Fine way to start a honeymoon, I kept thinking through fear and frustration.

He’s not going 90 miles an hour, my husband said calmly.
They use the metric system here! He explained still laughing a bit.
I plopped myself against the seat in relief.
However, the taxi was still going fast on the little back roads.

I never found all of that as funny as my husband.
I was in another country but thinking as if I was in my own.
I did not know the language; I studied German in school.
My husband did not know the language; he studied French.

I could smile.
I could try to say the few words I knew.
I could attempt to understand their currency and their customs.
I could focus on what was similar instead of what made us different.

I remember sitting in one of the hotel lobbies while my husband was at the front desk.
I saw a man and a woman come in carrying their suitcases.
He began to speak in German to her.
I was not eavesdropping, but I could understand some of what he was saying.

When I was a little girl, I had a misconception about people who spoke in another language.
I used to think that if someone spoke in another language, I would not be able to hear them.
I remember the first time I heard language I did not understand.
It fascinated me that I could hear sounds that had no meaning to me.

Here I was all those years later and I was hearing and understanding bits of German.
I was in a country not my own, hearing two other languages besides my own.
I am sure the couple saw me staring at them.
They looked up and I said, Guten Tag, and smiled.

Do you ever feel like you’re walking around with two left feet?
Do you ever feel like everyone around you is speaking words you don’t understand?
Do you ever feel that even what is familiar seems odd and out of place?
Do you ever feel as if you missed the memo?

If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world. (C.S. Lewis)

Feeling like you have two left feet is not a bad thing.
Sometimes, we just feel as if we do not belong here.
The familiar seems foreign to us.
Words are spoken but they just do not resonate in our heart.

I am coming to You now, but I say these things while I am still in the world, so that they may have the full measure of My joy within them. I have given them Your word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world. My prayer is not that You take them out of the world but that You protect them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. Sanctify them by the truth; Your word is truth.
(John 17:13-17)

Two left feet.
Missed the memo.
Fish out of water.
Feeling like you don’t belong.

Rejoice!
You are not made for this world.
You are made for another.
You are made for heaven; you are just traveling through this world.

Traveling through where the language is not always understood.
Traveling through where the system of measurement differs from the absolute standard.
Traveling through where you just feel off.
Traveling through on the way to the place you were created for.

Didn’t get the memo?
Maybe that is a good thing.
Only God’s memo counts for anything.
I have summoned you by name and you are Mine. (Isaiah 43:1)

One day, God will call His children home from the four corners of the earth.
Different languages and different cultures will stand before Him.
At that moment, the differences will fade away.
In Christ, there is only one heavenly Home.

You and I are simply traveling through.