Something I always love about traveling is the journey to find the church building wherever you are. Knowing that when you arrive, no matter where you are in the world, the feeling will always be the same. Stepping into a building that feels like home even though you’ve just met, because the spirit and the church members are there. You know that saying ‘Home is where the heart is’, well that holds true of the gospel too. ‘Home is where the sprit lives’ and he lives very strongly in these beautiful, dedicated buildings of worship.
Jet lag… Oh dear jet lag, please get with the program.
It is 5am on the lovely West side of the US of A but my body is still set to the East side, which is making catching zzz’s and resting up before the work day darn near impossible.
Oh well, guess we’ll try again tomorrow. In the mean time, lets take a peek at our trip to the always beautiful land of our forefathers. Quinn and I packed up and headed back to my Grandmother’s farm for a week of good old country exploring, adventures, beauty and rest.
One of the best things about Grandma’s farm is how remote it is. I had to stand in the corner of the bedroom, on one leg, while crossing my eyes and holding my breathe just to get one bar of cell phone service. Just enough service to hear the bing of incoming emails and receive the tidal wave of text messages from the hubs saying things like ‘I miss you’ and ‘I hope you’re having fun’. And the occasional message from work ‘hey, where did you put that file…?’ -from 3 hours before. Well, if you haven’t found it by now…