On Our Way Out

Today feels like the first day we arrived in Afghanistan except that I feel older. We are leaving and for some reason I feel a tinge of sadness. Every person we passed on the street today seemed to fade into a what felt like a dream. I keep wondering if I should pinch myself and wake up from it all. It's like waking up from a dream, and you don't want it to be over. Even if it's not a good one, you were and integral part of it. I also feel like I've learned; I've changed. Our three months in this place have been some of the hardest and the easiest of my life. I feel stronger, things seem clearer, life is brighter. I never imagined I would feel this way. I am confident that I used my time to the fullest. I've never been very good at that. I've discovered something life changing and I can't quite put my finger on it, but I intend to let it shape me.

Leaving Mazar is one of the harder things I've done. The trees are swaying in the breeze, a little girl and boy are walking hand in hand through the dirty street. Life is beautiful here. I'll miss its purity; its simplicity. God is here, moving and breathing. We've had good closure with friends here, but there's still something lingering. I imagine that it's just a part of this place that's coming with us. Across the ocean, on our long drive to Tennessee, Afghanistan will stay with us. I know that for sure.