Yesterday, as I was heading to work, I passed a girl on the sidewalk who was wearing a bright yellow shirt. In sparkly blue letters the shirt shouted, “I LOVE MY JOB!!” And I thought to myself in subdued, calm green letters, “Me too. Me too.”
Today, September 1st, marks my one year anniversary in Hong Kong. It is hard to believe that one year ago today, I was stepping off a plane, not knowing what to expect. One year ago today, I was stranded in an airport, wondering if it was a sign of what was to come. Thankfully, it was not. Rather, this community has welcomed me in, treated me as part of their family. We have celebrated birthdays, weddings, Christmas, and a myriad of Chinese holidays together. We have mourned the loss of life, and the loss of justice. We have eaten. Oh Lord have we eaten. We have laughed together, danced, and sung together. We have shared stories of our families and friends we’ve all left behind. We are all far from home – bound together in a solidarity of separation. Some are here by choice – here to serve in any capacity possible. Others are here because it was their only choice in sustaining their family. But we are all here. Together.
When I received the phone call, the day before my graduation from seminary, and Lauren said, “So, tell me what you know about Hong Kong.” I have to admit, what I knew could have fit in a thimble. I had never really pictured myself living in Asia, but now that I’m here, I can’t imagine anything else. Not necessarily because I love Hong Kong (that’s up for debate), but because I cannot imagine being in any other placement than this one. And that, folks, is when you know you are where you are supposed to be. This season, I know it won’t last much longer, but I sure am thankful for the time I’ve had, and the memories yet to come.