A Love Letter

I miss you dearly already. Your soft faces. Your broken hands. I miss your spirit. The way you smile and greet people. The way you care for your families. For your friends. The way you’d open your door to strangers. The way you’d hand them your best tea.

I miss your pastel walls. Your dusty streets. I miss your colorful saris. Your countless flip-flops. I miss your simple songs. Your obsession with dancing. Your curious children. I miss your sherpas. Their soft faces.

I came home to a world where people don’t shine like you do. The way you’ve encourage me to shine.

Nepal, I don’t understand why God wanted me to pursue you, but here I am, there you are. I want to see the world, sure. But I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t spent my time getting to know you better. I wish I knew Nepali. That I had black hair. That I could pull off flip-flops.

Last time I saw you, my body was in turmoil. I spent one afternoon on the ground, wondering if I had malaria. I spent every night coughing myself to sleep, almost violently at times. I woke up with more bug bites than I could count. I’m not sure how your children can grow up in the smog and dust, but in each moment, I was just happy to be there with you, hopefully not disturbing your peace.

My friends and I came because we wanted you to know Jesus. We wanted you to know the earthquakes weren’t your fault. That you haven’t angered your Gods. That you haven’t failed your families. We wanted to share our spiritual peace with you, but we wanted to take back your earthly peace that we so often struggle with as Americans.

When I sit here at home, I’m left to think of the consequences of our western foreign policy. How dirty our hands are. How we squeeze so much out of people as beautiful as yours. I’m not saying that any of us are without sin, that any of us don’t need a savior. But I see the eyes of people who toil for their families. So their wives are taken care of. So their kids can live a better life.

I’m not really great with words. I can’t even explain why you’ve caught my heart. I can’t get my friends to care about you. And I lay in bed in night, wondering how I can be a better ambassador for you. I want to show the world that they should be friends with you. To stop forgetting. To notice how well your people have done with what they’re given.

Nepal, you are dearly missed. I can’t wait to see you again