One Word

Zorig & Heather, Feb 1, 2015

As a reader and a writer, words are the air of my mind, my intellect. With Zorig, I even gave myself the nickname of "Wordy Girl." In the months of our online courtship (via Facebook Messenger, International texting, and email), he would ask a simple question and I would respond in paragraphs (he would kindly ask for time to read and translate). Just as I found his broken English to be beautiful and moving, I hoped he'd find my wordiness to be endearing, and not a chore. We've made it to here, so I guess it didn't deter him.

But let me get back to words......

Over four years ago I read an article in Guideposts magazine by author Debbie Macomber (whom I've never read) in which she shares about her tradition of choosing a word to reflect and meditate upon each year. She's been doing it for well over 30 years. I was inspired and shared the article with some friends. This is my fourth year to choose a word. 

In 2012 I chose Frontier. In late April of that year I happened across the posting for Head Librarian at Fountain Valley School of Colorado. It became my new frontier and was a dream job come true. 

In 2013 I chose Imaginative. I desperately wanted to become more artistic. I didn't. I guess I needed more imagination and a PLAN to get there. Oh well. 

In 2014 I chose Prayer. That year started strong. I prayed more often and was intentional to pray for big things as well as small. Then in April I put prayer to the test. I ended up in the hospital for a week, and home for another two weeks of recovery, from major surgery (that was completely unexpected). I prayed to survive the surgery, the recovery, and to be as strong or stronger than before. All of those prayers were heard and answered.

I didn't spend much time ruminating on my word for 2015. I was busy with other thoughts and plans. Just nine hours before Z was to arrive into Colorado Springs, I found this quote and posted it to Facebook:

And my friend Elaine commented, "And you might have your word for 2015."

Zorig and I were preparing to find out if all we'd been building and creating, hoping for and wanting, was going to be real. It was the critical moment. To be or not to be.....that's what faced us down. 

He caught an earlier standby from Denver (after being given a hard time by immigration, I might add) and I was rushing around doing my hair, making sure dinner would be done, making final cleaning sweeps around the apartment. I arrived to the airport and watched the plane get delayed by 10 minutes, then another 20. There were no pillars to hide behind, so I stood as close to the TSA signs as one could. Delayed another 10 minutes. I had my ipod on and listened to "My Heart is Open" by Maroon 5, over and over and over again. I was nervous. I was scared. I was excited. No one knew me. No one knew who I was there to meet. No one knew that I was waiting to collect a man I had only spent 6 days with. There were moments I couldn't believe I was doing it. 

But then the moment arrived. I saw him turn the corner, and he saw me, and smiled (Oh that smile that I remembered so well). It was all happening in this moment. He was really and truly here. In the USA. To be with me. 

He was exactly as I remembered him to be, wearing clothes that were familiar. We hugged, and as cliche as it is going to sound, he simply felt like home. We'd found, no--he'd made---a way back to me (and may I never forget that). 

We kissed. We hugged again. He held my hand on the way down to baggage claim where we hugged and kissed some more. I don't know what a single other soul in the airport looked like or did, because all I saw and heard and felt was him. 

And then........I was no longer nervous. 

Not walking to the car. Not on the drive home. Not once we arrived to my apartment. The two of us standing together in a time and place, face to face, was all I needed. My heart and soul understood....he was the resonance I'd been needing, longing for, waiting for, my entire life. 

And because of his resonance, my transformation has begun.