Skip to main content

Arriving in the land of the "American Dream"

I have finally made it to the USA. I can't say it's "always" been a dream of mine to come here, but it is fascinating and really cool to actually be sat here writing this breathing in what I know is american air (or air-conditioning).

After lots of horror stories of how mean immigration had the potential to be, I was very pleasantly surprised by my getting in to the land of dreams. The immigration officer was really friendly and smiley and the whole process was very quick and painless.

As I walked into the terminal of the airport in Minnesota (we were connecting with another flight to take us all the way to Kansas City) I think I walked around with my mouth open (well, maybe not literally but on the inside I was). I was like a child that is just overwhelmed by impressions. It looks exactly as I expect it. I recognised so many names of places and brands from the many films I've seen, it was great.

So yes, I got here safely. And I am full of impressions even after less than 24 hours on american soil.

There is so much more to tell, but I am on a borrowed computer, so I have to keep this a bit short.

Just one short impression to end. As we were driving out of the airport in Kansas City we were speeding down the "freeway" (I think that's what they call it), and as I was looking at the the things we sped past, I noticed a raised American flag waving in the wind with frayed edged. The symbol of this nation. As I looked at it I was so struck by all it represents, yet also struck by the fact that it was so worn out, it's edges were falling to pieces. And I asked myself if maybe the state of that flag maybe represents something of this nation also....a proud nation, yet a nation with frayed edges? A nation which isn't all I tries to portray itself as. A nation which needs Jesus just as much as somewhere in Africa....

Popular posts from this blog

Taking in the familiar and a heart connected.

Amsterdam. It still has that muggy feeling in Summer, and a constant flow of people which if you stop to think about it, it's quite amazing that there would even be space to accommodate them all. But then I guess they are not all staying. Just passing through on their way to or from somewhere. It's always good for the heart to visit somewhere that was once home. The familiarity of streets and customs makes it easier to embrace what might be new as well as the joy of being reacquainted with old friends. Friends. So many of them to be found in this city, ready with hugs and good words that are uttered when seeing someone who was away again. Friendship. A treasure that cannot be bought. Cobblestones trodden by many, including myself. Sitting on a bench. Praying. Remembering the first time I stumbled upon this area lined with windows with red lights and curtains. An area which has come to represent no longer windows, but people to me. Some still behind a window. Others who have ...

Small moments that mean a lot

Walking home on the crunchy snow that lights up a December evening,  I felt so thankful. The revelation that fellowship and being together is the best gift you can give someone, and realising that although it might seem small, it can turn into something big when a person feels seen and valued.  Yesterday I helped out with a crafts workshop for a group of lovely women volunteering for Crux where I worked before (well, in all honesty: they were making angels while I ate Christmas cookies, Quality Street chocolate, and chatted). I love walking alongside people in conversation, and realise sharing life for 2 hours can last so much longer in value and experience.  This evening we had our Christmas dinner for volunteers and people who are part of my current job. It was a delightful evening with many nations gathered around the same table…. eating the same food… and for a few hours creating a small fellowship moment that will become a good memory for the future. Often in my job ...

Getting to know the local culture.

Life is a strange thing. Last week went…not much happened, and then it was over. The weekend was quite calm without too many wild and exciting things happening. Except, of course, a wee outing to watch the National Championship for Veteran Ploughing. Now, like me, you might be sadly lacking an understanding of what this actually means. So I am delighted to be able to enlighten you in this respect. It’s basically (for the “farm-language-illiterate” like myself) a competition where you use old (hence the name “veteran”) tractors and ploughs, and plough up a stretch of field which is then evaluated and the one scoring the highest sum (accuracy, depth, how well the soil is turned is all given points) wins. I must admit that this information I got by eavesdropping on a conversation next to me where a man was explaining to some of my friends how it all works. So that was a fun adventure….although we only stayed for a bit. What is sort of occupying my mind at present is my upcoming travel abr...