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Travel is a spiritual thing. {why?}

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photo from technobuffalo.com

Why do we travel? Is it to experience other cultures? Is it to see things we have never seen before? On the surface, these are probably the main two reasons that people venture outside of their comfort zone and see new things. While snowboarding in the beautiful mountains of New Mexico the other day, a thought hit me that filled me to the brim with wanderlust: travel is a spiritual thing. It is a celebration of God’s creation and our roles within it. It is the most obvious joy in the quiet morning hours and the most raw realization in a desperate situation. We are marionettes on the strings of experience, waiting to be tugged hither and onward. We wake in the dead of night and see stars we have never seen before. We hear the sounds of a river that never ceases to flow past our tent door, on to the ocean. We feel the wind rush across our face that has blown past every mountain, every cliff, through every canyon and across every desert at one point in time. Our need and love for experience and enlightenment is eternal; we never get our fill. It is as much a biological component of us as is our DNA. We seek, we find, we cherish, we love. We embrace all that we don’t understand and carry it with us to new places so that maybe we can finally comprehend it. We take the memories of the Serengeti to the challenge of the Alps. We take the serenity of Aruba to the richness of Sydney. We enjoy food and wine in Italy and we enjoy solitude and quietness in India. We realize that the world is so large that we are insignificant but also so small that we owe the respect of our presence at every amazing creation.

The world is your oyster, friends. Seek the goodness of it.

{If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. Psalm 139:9-10}

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