34 Hours and 28 Minutes

Two months ago I packed up my life and walked into the Dayton International airport to leave for a ten month internship in Bremerton, WA. My mother drove me there and waited with me as I checked my bags. We walked to the security line and I fiddled with my ticket trying to think of something to say. She just asked if I had everything and stuffed a few extra snacks into my carry-on.

Before I knew it she looked at me with tears behind her purple reading glasses. We hugged each other hoping to make the hug last until my Christmas break in December. Soon it was time to go and she just smiled and said, "I love you. Have a good time." I'm still not sure how she did that without crying, but then again mothers are superheroes.

I'm sure that's one of the hardest things either of us have done, but what amazes me is that we weren't scared. She knew God would watch over me and I knew he'd watch over her. This is the definition of faith; knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that God has your best interests at heart. God has given the two of us so much grace through this journey.

Though we're thirty four hours and twenty eight minutes, if I got in my car and drove, our relationship has never been stronger. God called the two of us to this journey and has blessed us since that first prayer.