So picture this – – – – –
Amanda sitting on a chair at the gate in the Bucharest airport.
It is somewhere around 6:18 a.m.
I have my carry on items [an orange purse and a pink Jansport backpack]
laying on the floor next to me.
I feel like my heart has been ripped out because
I just spent the most amazing 10 weeks in southern Romania.
And now… I have to leave…
I am bawling my eyes out.
Blasting my favorite Romanian worship songs in my headphones.
I am staring out the window at the airplane
that is about to take me away from my heart… again…
If only looks could make plane tickets fade, and visas extend.
The airline workers call my section.
I refuse to listen in English.
I take my window seat on the plane and
watch the sun rise, another gorgeous summer day in Bucharest.
My plane takes off, with no regard for my broken heart.
I can only wonder when I would come again.
That was the last time I left Romania. It was August of 2010 and I really had no idea when I would be back to the country I loved so much. I didn’t really know if it was the country I loved or the people I knew who made me love it. That doesn’t really matter; it’s not really relevant because either way I left a part of myself in Romania. I was scared that I would never get the chance to go back and find my heart. I expected very much that leaving this time would be the same… that it would be hard and it would hurt. That I would have a 28 hour bus ride to Ukraine to watch the countryside go by and wonder when I would see it again. Expectations are funny things though; usually they don’t ever happen the way you imagine.
When I left Pitesti, I wanted to cry. I wanted to be sad. I wanted my heart to be broken. I was expecting it, almost willing it to happen. Even just a few tears. But nope. Nothing! I was super confused, wondering why in the world I became so attached to a country that I wouldn’t cry when having to leave and not know if I would ever go back. As I prayed about this and thought about it, I realized why I didn’t cry.
I didn’t cry because I don’t have to wonder if I will be back. I know I will be.
I didn’t cry because I don’t have to wonder if my heart will be there waiting. It will be.
I didn’t cry because I don’t have to worry about when it’s time. God’s time rocks.
There is no doubt in my mind that I will be back in Romania again. I don’t know what that looks like, but I’m not worried. I know that when I go back it will be like I never left. I know that I will have family and friends wherever I end up. God put this country in my heart for a reason. A country that I felt called to before I knew where it was on a map is now a home.
Romania is leaving the porch light on.
I won’t stay out too late.
Much love,
-A
