Today was just one of those wistful days. On my lunch break, I began reading something from a blog of one of the missionaries in Prague, which led me to reading multiple other blogs and looking at pictures of all of their beautiful faces and families and stories. I felt an ache rise in my heart as the rain fell softly outside, wishing I could be with them all. As I walked out of my last dance class of the day, a fellow student beside me commented that the weather reminded her of the time she visited Prague. The familiar sadness welled up in me again, as I closed my eyes and imagined walking along the city streets, peering up in wonder at the buildings which always took my breath away. That chilly rain made me want to walk the cobblestone streets to Cafe Kalma and eat a chocolate filled croissant (or two), sipping my espresso as I write in my journal and read my Bible. Feeling rather blue, I stopped in my local coffee shop on my walk back home from campus (nothing says comfort like a warm latte). Just walking in there for a brief moment brought a surge of joy into my day. I deeply inhaled the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee as I soaked in the sounds of jazz melodies and a million strands of conversation. Something just feels right about that sensation.I feel so strangely out of place these days, longing for the past and hoping for the future. I suppose that's a lifelong tension, and I'll always exist somewhere in the middle.
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currently listening to: "Sunday," by John Coltrane and "Secret Garden," by Bruce Springsteen
