We picked him up yesterday at the DFW airport, along with the families of the other men.
Waiting on them to come was so hard. Me and my friend, A, couldn't sit still; we were constantly tapping our feet, staring at the door, and/or pacing the floors...
I was the first to see them coming out, and I must have acted very silly. I started jumping up and down, squealing,
"I see him! I see him! He's at the door! Look, look, look!!"
My Mom looked at me like I was a nut, but after she looked in the direction I was pointing, she understood.
Many hugs and kisses were passed around.
We went out to eat, and many stories were told at the table.
Back at home Dad gave us gifts he brought back with him. He gave me a Kenyan beaded necklace, (which I wore to church this morning.) He showed us pictures of the different people they met, and places they saw.
So, I made it through the two weeks alive! And I think I have grown a little more...
I want to go to Africa sometime soon, now that my Dad has come back, telling us all about it.
"Bless the Lord, oh my soul! Oooh, my soul! I'll worship Your Holy Name... I'll sing like never before! Oooh, my soul! I'll worship Your Holy Name..."
Thanks for reading!