Hawk has officially been gone for six months. I almost shake my head with amazement because I can’t believe I still functioned after Day One, and here, six months later we are thriving. It’s still hard every day. Some days it is still really, really hard, but here we are doing something that would tear many others apart. Here I am doing something I never ever thought I was capable of doing…and it’s only by the grace of God.
It’s been six months since Farewell, and three weeks since London. I haven’t written about the incredible reunion yet because maybe I just liked keeping it between us, but also because it’s taken me a little while to get into the mindset of being happy it happened instead of sad it ended. Coming home was an adjustment. Leaving him was probably the second hardest thing I’ve ever done, second only to watching him fly away from me the first time.
Day 1 – August 28, 2013
Our story is one of wait. Waiting for God’s timing. Waiting for each other. Waiting to be with each other again. So it is no surprise that this journey was still a journey of me waiting. Waiting for the planes. Waiting for the long flight to end. Waiting for him in the airport. Waiting to see him walk through the door. Waiting to see his face again. Waiting to be in his arms again.
I was incredibly nervous that my first solo plane trip just so happened to be an International one halfway across the world. I was petrified that the planes would be delayed and that my luggage would get lost and that I would miss my connecting flight and our short trip would be cut even shorter–or let alone even happen. It’s always humbling to look back and see unbelief and God’s faithfulness. To see that God has been so faithful each and every time and yet I still doubt. Here He turned London from just a far off dream into the sweetest reality. Each and every step of the process He figured out for us, so why on earth would I think He would fail me now? Needless to say, both my planes were on time and my luggage made it with me on a uneventful flight, other than the butterflies churning within.
I arrived at Heathrow two hours before Hawk. The nerves were bad. My eyes strayed to my watch countless times. If you happened to walk into the Women’s Toilets area of Heathrow’s International Terminal 1, I was the girl with my suitcase open furiously putting on makeup and spraying way too much hairspray on my hair. (Hey – it had been 5 months! A girl’s gotta look good for her man!)
After getting “prettified,” I waited for him. And I waited for him. And I waited for him. After such a long countdown, such a long flight, those last two hours seemed to be the longest wait. And I still waited. My eyes trained on the doors, looking for his face…looking at every man who bared the slightest resemblance.
And then I saw him.
It wasn’t exactly a reunion of movies with the tossed baggage and the running and jumping into his arms. I stood there, bags by my side and I smiled. I waited for him to look up and see me, and he smiled. And we were together again. Hug, kiss, hug and hug again. It’s hard to express, but the five months of separation? What five months? It was like no time had passed. I was in his arms and I was home. Pure contentment and bliss right here. We didn’t even have to leave the airport. I was in London with my Love, yes, but the greatest thing was I was WITH my Love.