After coming home and sleeping only three hours, running around like crazy and co-hosting a bridal shower for my soon-to-be sister, I ought to have been exhausted. My friends were looking at me, laughing about all my energy and making comments with pointed glances about how my trip must've been good. They kept asking me about it.
"So how was your trip?"
"It was really really good!"
"Was it REALLY really good? Or really REALLY good."
I'm not sure how the change of inflection changes the meaning, or which question means which, but I know they were teasing me about a guy. Not that it matters. Another one I got was:
"So, how was the trip?"
"It was awesome!"
"How awesome? Like, you-can't-stop-smiling awesome!?"
I love my friends. I really do. But sometimes they just don't get it. My trip WAS "I-can't-stop-smiling awesome," but for reasons they just wouldn't understand, or receive even if I told them.
The Maker of heaven and earth met us on our trip. He provided for us, protected us, directed us and showered me with gifts that I didn't even need or deserve. I feel like the daughter of a billionaire who's just returned from a week-long spoiling session with her dad. Or something like that. God showed himself to us. Yes, my trip was really REALLY good. (I think that's the right one)
He visited me each day in so many ways. He lead my beside the still waters, and restored my soul. Yes, my trip was I-can't-stop-smiling awesome.
I read this verse in Isaiah this morning, which summed up the whole trip.
"I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name."