Jesus loves me, this I know.

Here I am, in Colorado, at Missions Training International, for a week of de-briefing my three and a half years in Portugal. I'm with about twenty other missionaries returning from countries like Ethiopia, Haiti, Russia, and the like. We're all processing the emotions of leaving America to make a foreign culture a home, and then to return. There are a lot of tears here. I think the Holy Spirit lives in the places where our tears run free. He loves to love us. Jesus has loved me so creatively this week.

My second day here, I looked up from the juice bar to find my friend Delice standing in front of me. I met Delice a year ago in Portugal, when she turned up in my kitchen for our Thursday night dinner and Bible study. Delice is like an older sister to my dear teenage friends, Andrea and Olivia. Since she was visiting Portugal that Thursday, she joined them both, and landed in my apartment for the evening. I remember her bright eyes and her passionate words about her Jesus. And her incredible taste in music.

Jesus loved me so much this week by giving me a Delice to hug. She is working here at MTI, caring for missionary kids (really well, I might add, because she was one). It's so nice to spend time with someone who's seen the inside of my Portugal--especially the Portugal that was my kitchen on those Thursday nights. I am so loved.