So, we saw a part of the country we'd never been to before. And it was beautiful. We drove through hills and (baby) mountains, past streams and rivers and trains and trees. Beautiful. We read a lot, drank a lot of fall-themed beverages, slept a lot. We picked apples in a sunny apple orchard in Connecticut, drank the most delicious chai on a rainy day in NYC, slowly ate slow food in Vermont, and tripped over cobblestones in Boston. It was glorious. Eight straight days together, and we still had things to talk about. We never tire of each other. Multiple times older married couples asked if we were newlyweds, and then seemed surprised that we have been married almost two years. Then we asked them their secret to thirty or forty-six years of marriage... "Yes, dear" was the answer for all. Then they laughed and one couple said it's important to have a common goal. The other, longer married couple, they told us to never give up. Work together and don't give up like all the other young couples out there. I love advice from people who have seen it all.
But... It's so good to be home. I love Bloom. It felt so like home to be there tonight. Looking around at all the familiar and unfamiliar faces, feeling comfortable enough to take off my shoes and take barefoot communion (as we do every week), listening to people sing at the tops of their lungs, with all they've got... It's beautiful. I love it so much, and I love feeling the presence of God in our midst.
I'm so thankful for the friends I have here. They made me feel like I (we) were missed, and that's so good.