An anniversary

Sunday, August 27, 2006

This is my much looked forward to day. The airport terminal is relatively quiet, excepting the occasional Spanish announcements chattering over the loud speaker. No, this trip is not to Spain or Mexico. As a matter of fact I am sitting in the Los Angeles airport, waiting for my flight to the beloved Australia.

"Oh my," you might be saying, "Israel and Norway would have been enough, don't you think, but you just can't stay put for long and now you're off to Australia, of all random places! And you're only the lucky age of fifteen!" What can I say? Traveling is in my blood, and I'm bound to be doing it whether I expected it or not.

"Okay, Kayla," now you wonder, "the first one was during a war with a bunch of crazy bibleschool students going to march and pray in Israel, then your family wore themselves out driving all over Norway praying; what takes you to Australia, more prayer battle?" Actually no. Although I hope to still believe God in this needy country, my reasons are not purely based on this.

It all started probably when I studied Australia in Geography last May or so. I think it was my favorite chapter of the year, and a little seed of thought was planted, saying, "Huh, I think I would really like to go there someday."

A few weeks later (on Mother's Day, actually), I was talking on the phone with Kendra, who started talking about her previously planned trip to Australia. Curious, I began to ask her questions, and as I was struck with a thought, I said, "Do you mean if God plopped [X number of dollars:] in my lap I could go with you?"

To make a long story short my parents and I thought and prayed a lot about it, and a month and a half later Mom bought my ticket . . .