I love sitting next to the window on the airplane. Christy does, too, but she arranged for me to have a window seat. I am often filled with wonder as I consider a two-fold marvel: first the mere fact that I can fly and then the vastness of the world God has made. In populated areas it is amazing to see houses, cars, and roads, which seem so important when we are down among them, shrink in scale. Then town after town goes by as if we are merely passing houses, each like a small world to those living in them. And God knows each of them. Then we pass over the Sahara desert. A vast land, completely uninhabited, but which, if only it had regular rain, could contain millions of inhabitants. The black mountains of the Sahara begin to feel like friends, I have passed over them so many times.
When I hear an announcement that we will soon touch down, I look out the window again. First I see a large lake--I think I have visited villages by that lake a few years ago. Then as we descend, suddenly the city of Abuja comes into view. I cannot quite identify the streets and buildings as they rush by; Abuja is a fast-growing city. However, it all seems so familiar. How can one capture in words the images that rush by in an instant? Dusty streets (it is dry season), familiar cinder block construction, unfinished buildings (where people invest their money in building stage by stage), the large African style lorries (trucks), then people walking along streets. Each sighting brings back feelings associated with so many memories here. Travels with friends, hospitable strangers, challenges overcome, difficulties managed... the feelings all rush back and catch me by surprise. I have been away from Nigeria for fourteen months. Can it be that I have forgotten? This place, too, is home.
Thank God with me for his kindness in making Nigeria my home.
When I hear an announcement that we will soon touch down, I look out the window again. First I see a large lake--I think I have visited villages by that lake a few years ago. Then as we descend, suddenly the city of Abuja comes into view. I cannot quite identify the streets and buildings as they rush by; Abuja is a fast-growing city. However, it all seems so familiar. How can one capture in words the images that rush by in an instant? Dusty streets (it is dry season), familiar cinder block construction, unfinished buildings (where people invest their money in building stage by stage), the large African style lorries (trucks), then people walking along streets. Each sighting brings back feelings associated with so many memories here. Travels with friends, hospitable strangers, challenges overcome, difficulties managed... the feelings all rush back and catch me by surprise. I have been away from Nigeria for fourteen months. Can it be that I have forgotten? This place, too, is home.
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