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Whelp, I'm back in the grand 'ol U.S. of A. After traveling 19+ hours by bus from Mancora to Lima, we rushed straight to the airport Sunday morning for the journey home. Four countries and three planes later, we landed in Chicago at 1:36 a.m. Customs was a disaster with no distinct lines for visitors and citizens. We spent nearly 50 minutes waiting in line followed by 2 minutes at the counter to get our passports stamped. We gathered our belongings and quickly went to meet Michael, who graciously offered to pick us up.

After sleeping most of the morning, I headed into school today, and this evening went shopping for school items with my mom. Many have asked me how it feels to be home. To put it honestly, I'm not sure. Last night, as we boarded our final plane, I wanted nothing more than to be home, hug my parents, and snuggle up in my very comfortable bed. It felt good today to walk into school and have a sense of belonging and comfort. I enjoyed driving my car today and floating in the pool with my parents as we chatted this evening.

However, in my mind, I think first in Spanish and then have to remind myself that here we speak English. As I greeted friends today, I wanted to kiss them on the cheek, but here, we don't do that. I wanted to call up my friend whom I've been in contact with everyday for the last month, but I realized that would cost a fortune. Instead, I settled for glancing at pictures I snapped during the month, and tears of pain and happiness stained my cheeks.

I know I'm here in the U.S. for a purpose. God has given me a great life here, and I am so grateful for the blessings He has poured out upon my life. I will continue to serve Him here with my whole heart until He calls me back to Peru. He's promised me I'll return; it's just a matter of when for which I am uncertain.