The minute you step off the plane and hear everyone talking, but don't understand a word they say...you know your not in Kansas, Dorothy.  If you've ever had the experience of traveling solo to another country, you know what I'm talking about.  When I traveled to Thailand, for instance, I landed in Bangkok and disembarked the aircraft, making my way through the corridor leading into the terminal.  While I was onboard the airplane, I had no worries about communicating.  I knew that the crew spoke English, my native tongue, and most of the passengers did as well.  However, as I made my way through the airport toward the baggage area and, eventually, to the arriving passenger terminal where buses and taxis were awaiting their fares, those English-speaking people who made my trip across the Pacific easy and comfortable, had now dissolved into the crowds making their way to their destinations.  Now, I knew that I may be able to find people who speak English, if I had an urgent need to converse, but, there was no guarantee and no certainty about how well they may speak English.  After all...I"m an American, and you know what that means.  It can be best summed up in a joke I heard.

What do you call a person who speaks two languages?

Bi-lingual.

What do you call a person who speaks three-languages?

Tri-lingual.

What do you call a person who speaks several languages?

Multi-lingual...

Falling leaves interrupt the beam of my headlights as they reflect off of the wet pavement along this winding rural road in the Tennessee hills.  My eyes are heavy after a full day of working, but the constant awareness of the dead body in the back of my vehicle, keeps me distracted from the fatigue.  Driving through the night, I wonder at how, being a fresh college graduate just a few months ago, I would have never imagined being in this situation.  Driving a vehicle with a corpse right behind my seat?   Really?!?  Not me!  But, it was true.  I was in a situation that I had never dreamed would ever happen.

My headlights illuminate the the eerily darkened building as I turn into the drive.  Pulling up to the rear entrance, the only thing going through my mind is getting the body out of my vehicle and into this building, so that I can get on my way...back home where I am safe, dry and warm.

I was looking through one of my personal journals today, when I came across a couple of notes that my wife had written to me three years ago.  I was struck by the words of the notes, as I read and re-read them again.  Her messages were encouraging, loving and supportive.  She spoke of her love for me and acknowledged the blessings of God on our lives and marriage.  Her words rejoiced in all of our years together and expressed her vision for our future.  What a wonderful source of love and encouragement!  However, there was something even deeper in those notes that has stuck with me (and it's not the first time I've thought about this).  Those notes serve to remind me of something very important...it reminds me of who I am (husband and best friend to my wife) and the vision of my future (continuing our journey and enjoying our future together).  While it shouldn't be necessary to have such a message to keep one grounded in who they are and with whom they are meant to be, it does reinforce and encourage one in that purpose and relationship.  It serves to strengthen the love and commitment that we have.  My notes and messages to her do the same.