On the Banks of the River Jordan

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Well, that’s poetic license, because I’m not sure if she’ll actually see the Jordan River—but my older daughter Lexi took off this afternoon for ten days in Jordan, traveling with some other folk from our church. They’ll be staying with families there, and hoping to meet and pray with some Muslim groups, and generally open some lines of conversation. I don’t know as many details as I would like, because, well, she’s twenty-two. She doesn’t exactly withhold information; she just doesn’t stop moving long enough to fill us in on everything. (I suspect other parents will know what I mean.) She’s traveling with one of the pastors of our church, a woman who has been to the Middle East several times, so that gives us some reassurance.

She was excited and nervous when she left. Allysen and I are awed, proud, and—yeah—a little nervous.

It runs in her blood. When she was fourteen, she traveled to Armenia with a local exchange group. Since then, she’s been to Mexico and Nicaragua. She gets it from her mom.

Edit: Got a text msg: “Safely in Amman.” Probably the last we’ll hear for a little while. 

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