Flying out of Vancouver also gave us the joy of dealing with the Canadian border. Though we got pulled from the car and questioned, they let us go in plenty of time to catch our (now delayed) flight.
The 9.5-hour flight to Paris was uneventful. We landed in the city of love at 1a Washington time. We went through customs, stowed our carry-on baggage, and hopped a train into the city. We spent the next several hours on foot, seeing: Notre Dame Cathedral, the Louvre, Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel tower, while eating pastries and sipping on espresso. Our delay gave us time to sightsee and to keep ourselves awake to adjust the 10-hour time difference from Washington to Zambia. What originally seemed like an inconvenience turned into a blessing.
By the time that we got on the next plane, it was 12p PST, and we had been up for 30 hours. The plan was to sleep on the plane to get our bodies aligned with the time zone. Unfortunately, due to switching flights, I lost my exit row set, and the girl in front of me decided to recline for the entire 11-hour flight. With my knees pinned, I had a very difficult time sleeping and did not get more than two hours total. Airplanes do not seem to be designed for tall people; the girl in front of me slept the entire flight (for the record).
What all of this travel reminded me of was just how far away Zambia is. While I realize that a hundred years ago this trip would have taken weeks/months rather than days; it is still a great deal of work to get there. For those who have committed their lives to serving here, home is far. Friends and family are distant. Every time you think about those you are missing, you are also reminded of the work it takes to get to them. While missionaries get used to these long trips, they are never easy (especially with kids).
As we get together with our families to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner, let’s remember those who have chosen to serve God far away. They know what they are missing, but see faithfulness to God’s call as worth sacrificing for.