i miss the little things about far off places
i miss the oranges in the african sunset
i miss the clack of chopsticks
i miss the smell of rain against a backdrop of cooking rice
i miss the lilt of words i can't understand
i miss different foods
i miss conversations that are missing half the words but nobody cares
i miss singing in gypsy
i miss getting to meet new missionaries
i miss learning about other cultures from the people that are in them
i miss that swing in the johnson's backyard
i miss exciting children's parks
i miss strange grocery stores
i miss not knowing anyone
i miss stumbling over words and having toddlers giggle at me
i miss walking everywhere i go
i miss simplicity
i miss dusky little faces and white teeth
i miss sitting across a room from a bunch of people and just grinning
i miss getting up early and reading my bible to an african sunrise
i miss the mysterious red moving guy from the xi'an expo
i miss dancing with three hundred chinese students
i miss eleven o'clock roommate sessions
i miss so many little, tiny things that don't seem like much, but that hurt me when i think of them.
and i want them back.
i want to stop missing them.
i want to go places, to see people and things i've never dreamed of before.
but i'm going to stay here anyway.
because for right now, this is where i need to be.
and i know i keep bugging you people with this same thing
but it hasn't ceased to be true.
and i'm happy here
and i love the people here
and i love the ministry i have here.
god is blessing it greatly, more and more everyday.
so i'll keep on missing it
and eventually it'll happen.
and i'll be even happier than i am.
- Kyla Denae