An Ode to my Passport

Happy Birthday, USA!
I have been {almost} all around the world.  Now, I’m not saying I’ve been everywhere in the world, but I have traveled a good bit.  I feel so lucky to have all the experiences and memories from these foreign lands.  Travel is gift!
     I got my first passport when I was seventeen years old.  I used it just a few months later to enter Nicaragua for a mission’s trip. That was over thirteen years ago.  I love my passport.  When I was a flight attendant, I was required to carry my passport on every trip.  There was always the possibility I would be whisked away to another land.  That instability may sound frightening to some, but for me it was exhilarating.  Once, when I was walking through the Newark airport, heading to my gate to fly to Omaha or someplace equally exciting, my phone rang.  Crew scheduling was on the phone.  “We have a new assignment for you.  We need you to work the flight to Barcelona.”  I changed direction, headed to the international terminal, and was on my way.  What a rush!
Me in Barcelona

    I feel like my passport is an old friend.  It’s been everywhere with me.  I’m proud of it.  I’m proud it is a US passport.  I can confidently approach Customs and Immigration, have my passport checked and walk back into the United States with my head held high like I belong here.  Because I do.  This is home.  Every home has good times and bad, good people and bad.  But as long as going home is even an option, I’m a lucky girl.  I couldn’t be happier to call America home.  By the grace of God…

Please take a few minutes to read about my bra drive (and clean out your drawers.)

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