I’m going to miss this summer like a mixed-up memory.
Part of me says it’s self-defeatingly stupid to make good friends who live an ocean–and a continent–away.
It’d be easier, safer, to be polite and kind without getting attached. Knowing that we’re family in Christ is priceless. But with a few people, “I’ll see you in heaven” doesn’t come close to cutting it. Why go to the trouble?
…as if I’d ever take the easier or safer option.
Anybody have a Kleenex?
Maybe next summer will bring me back to the Marianas. Maybe…