Stamped Stories: Lessons from a Decade of Travel

I submitted my passport renewal the other day. (The fact that this can be done completely online now is both amazing and a little scary.) As one does, I flipped through the pages of my old passport book.

There it was. Ten years of my life pressed between stamps and smudges of ink.

Multiple mission trips to Zimbabwe that changed the way I see the world. There’s something both beautiful and heartbreaking about joy in poverty. I’ve held a weeping mother in my arms as she sobbed over losing her baby to something as simple as diarrhea. I’ve seen the celebration of a village the day a new well was drilled. I’ve taught in schools and watched the light bulbs turn on in children’s eyes as they discovered something new. I’ve sponsored kids so they not only had the chance to go to school, but food to bring home to their families.

Then there was that solo trip to Ireland that unlocked a new idea of travel. For years I had tried to go with friends, but it never worked out. Finally, I found the courage to go alone. To take the chance. To experience the world on my own. I was not disappointed. I met incredible people, stumbled into “off the beaten track” experiences, and learned I don’t have to wait on others to chase my dreams.

The trip to Haiti can only be described as good, and hard, and good. It tested me on so many levels. Swollen feet and ankles from standing in the back of a cattle truck each day. Uneasy feelings in certain parts of the country. A trek through a village where a young girl walked up and placed a baby in my arms, and for the next twenty minutes I carried that little one like it was the most natural thing. It was the hope I didn’t know I needed. And then one of the hardest things I’ve witnessed, burned into my memory. The delicate balance of knowing this was an impossible situation and they were doing the best they could.

Then there was the forgotten long weekend in Mexico. Forgotten only because they don’t stamp passports there anymore. It just doesn’t feel the same, does it? Were you even there without the stamp?

And of course, the trip to Tanzania and the mountain that changed everything. Kilimanjaro. Nine days that tested me physically, mentally, and spiritually. I learned more about myself on that mountain than in years of “normal life.” Resolved. Confident. Free. I didn’t know the rest of the plan for my life, but I knew the one I was living wasn’t it.

Most recently, South Africa. My sixth time to the continent, but a completely different experience. I was used to sleeping in sheds and tents. This time, it was five-star guest lodges on private game reserves. Luxury. Rest. Friendship. Wildlife that took my breath away.

A whole lifetime can be lived in the ten years of a passport’s existence. On one hand, it feels like I went so many places. On the other, not nearly enough.

Consider this your reminder: get out there. Explore the world. Say yes to adventure. See things with your own eyes. And most importantly, LIVE.