Today marks a month since I went to visit my dear sister in Texas. That being the case, I was reflecting upon the trip, and travel in general.
I enjoy traveling for many reasons, but there is a vast sense of being "a part" of something huge and un-named.
Travel can seem overwhelming because there are so many people to meet and so many that I come to love.
It is a good time to realize how big the world is, how many various life stories and problems create the melange of this world.
During my last trip, the people that brought this feeling to mind in a particularly acute manner were my little soccer friend Izak and his brother Malachi .
There is always a time for firsts, and this trip brought a "first" with street soccer.
My little friends, introduced me to the sport and welcomed me into the inner ring of the little neighborhood group of 30th and Garry Street.
I have noticed that there is something especially connecting, in entering into someone else's culture without judgment on things being done differently than my own culture.
Whether that be accepting street soccer as being just as cool as a "real" soccer game; playing with children as if a child's culture is just as great as that of an adult; or doing all I can in Spain to speak their language eat their food and appreciate their practices.
There are so many people to love, it is almost too painful to open my arms any wider... but at the same instant fills with a bursting fullness that aches to add even more love on top of it.
I think it is somewhat of a picture of Christ's love in us. It is so beautiful that it nearly hurts, yet in Christ's love there is always room for more. We can never be too full of his love but the more it fills us, the more we will feel the pain of beautiful loving. A loving that shadows eternity.
So, to wholly open my arms and experience life, I must open them to experience that achingly beautiful love.