I’ve hit a little rut in my spiritual memoir manuscript. I’ve got a lot of stuff about Orthodoxy, but not enough about Thailand, so I decided to drag out all my old journals tonight. The first one I opened began in May of 1996, which was right before I graduated from high school and left Thailand. Talk about memories!
Late that month, I went with my youth group to a park after church one Sunday. It was basically a farewell party for me. We sat under a tree by a pond and sang and played games and talked. There were lots of tears that day. Here’s what I wrote that night:
I will never forget. The lake was glistening. The grass was green and soft and there was one big tree nearby. It was peaceful. It was life. It was love and meaning and hugs and beauty. I will never, ever, ever forget today. I don’t ever want to forget this day with my brothers and sisters at Suan Luang (the park). I love them all very deeply. I am blessed.
I can’t believe it’s almost here. It rains a lot nowadays – it’ll start raining in the evenings and I feel sad and content and happy and nostalgic all at once. And sometimes I get that feeling just in the evening when it gets dark. And I feel like a great darkness is rushing at me, about to envelop me, and I want to hide and not let it sweep me away in its tantrum. Sometimes I wish I could stay here and everything could be like it is now. To listen to the rain again every night for the next four months, just like every year. But I can’t. Oh Lord, thank you for never leaving me.