Whenever I hear the song Fuzzy Blue Lights by Owl City, I am immediately back on an airplane in January of 2012, exhausted, relieved, both happy and sad, about to land at MSP after a nine-hour flight back from Paris. I was listening to music because the sound of the constant, rushing wind was making me anxious. I was too cold. I’m pretty sure I was in the window seat and next to Josh. He was probably asleep. I sat up as I felt the plane really starting to descend and looked out at the sunset and the wing of the plane cutting through the clouds. Fuzzy Blue Lights was playing on my MP3 player and I started it over because, somehow, it captured all the emotions going through my 17-year-old body at that moment.
I had just been in Italy for eleven days with a group from my church. It was the longest that I’d ever been away from home. It was simultaneously the best and hardest thing I’d ever done in my life. I spent the first three days of that trip so homesick I thought I was actually physically sick. I didn’t know anyone in the group very well, I was so jet-lagged I couldn’t eat or sleep, I couldn’t find a phone card to call my family, I felt awkward and out of place – and, oh yeah, my purse got stolen on the beach in Nettuno.
That trip grew me so much as a person. I had been terrified to go, but I went anyway. I had so much fun and so many beautiful experiences in spite of the struggles and the growing pains. I got to see too many beautiful churches to count. I got to see the Sistine Chapel. I got to go to Mass down in the catacombs. I got to see Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI from only about six feet away. I discovered strawberry gelato and ‘walking pizza’. I learned so much about the history of the Church. I saw so many tombs of saints. I stepped into the ocean for the first time. I got to see the American-Italian cemetery in Nettuno. I wouldn’t trade away the good parts so the bad didn’t happen. I look back on that trip as the beginning of me becoming who I am now; so much braver and deeper of a woman because I was willing to try this big thing that scared me.
Which takes me back to Fuzzy Blue Lights. When I hear that song, I remember the way I felt when the plane was landing in Minneapolis. I remember that hopeful feeling of having done something in spite of fear and anxiety, which, for me, will always, always be a triumph.
“If I was flying on a plane above your town
and you were gazing at the sky
somehow I’d feel intact and reassured
if you began to wave goodbye.”
Thanks for reading, God bless.
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