Family and Friends

We’ve now been on opposite sides of the globe in the same six-month period. We have seen summer in two different hemispheres. We have visited umpteen cities, flown through more than a dozen airports, and strolled through a lifetime’s worth of museums. We have stepped silently around a hundred sanctuaries, taken almost ten thousand digital photos, and tried more than a hundred restaurants, many of which did not have menus in English. We’ve seen and done a lot of things.

In the last two weeks we have spent some time in Manchester and Charlbury, England. We have friends from Fuller in Manchester, and I have an aunt who lives in Charlbury. As we approach the culmination of a seven-month string of travels, we have experienced a shift in the focus of our journey. In the case of Manchester and Charlbury we went to visit with people rather than to see places and take photos.

I have found it quite refreshing. Upon arriving in Manchester we settled in as guests in our friends’ flat and stayed up until all hours talking. More so than riding up the Eiffel Tower, more so than walking across the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and more so than sliding down the hill in a Zorb, it was fun. I got a particularly good kick out of the visit (which lasted four days) because the husband of this couple of friends is someone who enjoys chewing on the same theological fat and gristle that I do. After weeks of talking mostly about maps, bus schedules, the next meal, and sometimes about our post-travel plans, I found it quite a treat to spend a few hours a day discussing the things that get me fired up. Plus it was good to visit folks who had a shared experience with us; you just can’t have that kind of rapport with bus drivers and ticket agents, no matter how cordial they are.

After our jaunt in Scotland we stayed with my aunt for another four days. There we were part of a happy convergence of cousins whom I have not seen since I was a teenager (or before); now they have their own homes and children (who are quite fun in their own right, especially with a huge garden and several squirt-guns). More late nights and several rounds of the water of life followed, wherein I got another treat equal to if not greater than that of good friends: family around the table. I found this time especially valuable given the impact of Dad’s death on me. To be able to spend time with (and experience the wonderful hospitality of) my dad’s sister proved a great treasure. I left encouraged by some conversations we had about the generation before me, talks that tested the waters of memory and touched the soft underbelly of the family of which I am a life-long part. It was good.

Seeing the sights, soaking up the sounds, and feeling the history of nations pass under your feet is all well and good. But the people have been the highest points in this journey. I can lose sight of that all too easily amidst the dazzle and excitement of tramping and touring. Even as I write this I am aware that the words will be uploaded to a place where other people—other friends and family—will read them and in some small way share in our adventure. We are blessed by the Lord to have received the means and impetus to do the traveling we’ve done in the last seven months. Yet we are blessed even more by those with whom we get to share the experience of that travel—those we have visited, those who have read our ongoing commentary, and those to whom we will tell our stories. Praise God for such blessings!

~emrys