Memories flooded me as I walked into the guest house by the city wall in Chiang Mai last night… Memories of a feast on fried bugs and exotic fruit on a wooden floor. Memories of banana pancakes that have left my mouth watering for years. Memories of night markets, treks into villages, and Thai friends. Memories of getting lost and wandering into the red light district, and running away scared. Eight years ago, this place was home base for the two months in which I fell in love with Thailand. Much has changed. I no longer choose to eat fried bugs, unless I must. The pancakes aren’t as good as I remembered. And now I wander into the red light districts intentionally to find my friends. My heart is no longer in the North, it seems but with former bar girls, ladyboys, and break dancers in Pattaya. As I wandered the streets this morning, I was reminded that my heart is with my friends. Where I have friends, there my heart is… for my friends are my treasures. My heart aches to be with them again. I know He will bring me home soon… Home is now with these broken ones. They have become brothers and sisters. So much more than friends.
In a few short days I will head to a different home… a home where the brokenness looks different, where dreams lay shattered on different ground… a home with snow and Christmas and family and friends. A home I have missed so much in being here. I can’t wait to see you all and connect, for you are my treasures, too.