Monday, April 7, 2014 - posted by Steph Flewelling

Flying from Port Moresby to Mt Hagen looking out the airplane window the ocean gives way to rugged beaches, little visible civilization. Gliding across flatlands of orderly farms with little clusters of roofs, little clusters of trees here and there, there are no roads visible at this altitude, but there's a massive winding river of switchback loops. As we cross the expanse of farms the mountains begin to rise up out of the swelling ground. Majestic rugged mountain ranges appear, gloriously beautiful, lush, rich, all of this some of God's best work... We skim over a mountain range that seems to brush the bottom of our plane, then drop down into another flat place with a runway and an airport called Mt Hagen.

Linda has never tired of the indescribable beauty of this country. Tom's head bobs in drowsy sleep as we make this final flight of 2 days of travel... Now we're waiting in the humidity under a tin canopy as the brooding sky opens into a passing thunderstorm. More majesty. We are the strangers among this small group of people waiting to move on.
 

Smiles and poised quiet grace from our missionary comfort us as she "gathers" us and our mound of luggage through the final sprinkles of rain into the waiting van. In this rugged place she showers us with God's presence and comfort even as she drives with a courage and aggressive confidence that belies her soft spoken gentleness. Deb describes her as having "gracious gumption". Heads bob violently this time as we lurch and bounce for the next hour out to the hospital over smooth macadam roads that abruptly drop into gaping potholes and crevasses or morph into unpaved, rocky expanses.
 

We gain the entrance to the hospital in the dusk. Our house inviting, new as in we are the 1st to inhabit, it welcomes us openly. Then we're gathered again to a missionary's home, old friends who care for us with rich hospitality around the table, good food, deep, heartfelt laughter, joy... we laugh at each other. Finally beds for exhausted bodies, but something in us all is still on American time... Eventually, quietness settles into our house.