Last Tuesday I was coming back from Door County late at night with my friend. We had just driven up to his grandma's to drop off some of his belongs and say goodbye to his dog before he leaves to go aboard. We always end up listening to the Talking Heads together. I think it was Naive Melody or maybe Burning Down the House, but we got into this conversation about songs about houses and homes or what not, and started a discuss of how many songs can we think of that have the word home.
This led to listening to Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young's "Our House." The only word that can sum up how I felt driving through Sturgeon Bay as we giggled about the "two cats in the yard" is infinite. That moment you just lose yourself in and never want to leave.
I think the hardest part of the Mission Trip I led (besides worrying about girly girls) was not having my IPod with on the trip. I wanted more than anything to lose myself in a song as we rolled around the NorthEast by train. That's not to say my week wasn't filled with song.
While waiting for the subway, I often caught myself singing Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues." "Uptown Girl" by Billy Joel and Petula Clark's "Downtown." And what is more fun than singing songs from West Side story on the actual West Side? Standing outside the Dakota Building and sitting in Strawberry Fields I just wanted to hear Imagine.
It was a great trip. I don't think the point of short term mission is so much to help the people you travel to, but maybe it is to change your life just a little.
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