I opened my passport the other morning
To view the sweet sight of colored pages
Not the ones that scream my name
But those that hold a quieter claim
On the back of my passport page
Lie small stamps faded with age
I traced the ink from journeys past
And recalled the countries amassed
In Morocco the dunes were brushed with morning glow
As I raced up their sandy flow
As dawn came slowly shining through
The sky turned soft in pink and blue
In that moment I stared at the rising sun
Desperate to reach before it was done
Just for a minute to see
If God’s good morning would wait there for me
In Switzerland the mountains stood robed in white
Their lakes were calm reflecting light
Their pastures breathed a fresh air
With grazing cows resting there
A gentle wind moved through a hill
So quiet the world around me slowed and stilled
And in that hush I tried to hear
The voice of God drawing softly near
In England the cliffs stood tall above the tide
Where restless waves would crash and slide
From up above I paused to view
A strength far greater than me and you
Ascending down among the sand
The waters tugged me like a hand
As spray rose high against the shore
It touched my face forevermore
Almost as if the sea had gently come
To wash my soul with baptismal foam
I carry each stamp proudly
As evidence of places I have been,
Proof that I have stepped into the beauty
Created by His hands
But somewhere between the dunes and the peaks
The windswept edges by the sea
I wonder what home feels like
And where that may be
I closed the book and wondered then
About the roads unseen
The way my life has wandered through
The places in between
For though I’ve walked through many lands
And watched the seasons change,
I know the truest journey yet
Was already in my hands
Every time a border guard
Pressed ink upon the page,
I felt a small and simple joy
No words could quite explain
A quiet smile, a gentle nod
A wordless mark assuring
That no matter where you are on your journey
You are welcomed in
Though if my soul were a passport
Kept safe through passing days,
I think there’d be a single imprint
Set down in gentle grace
No questions asked, no proof needed done,
Just evidence shown in mercy
A stamp that says I’m welcomed home
Exactly as I am
For if my soul had pages
I’d carry both passports close
One holding miles and beauty
and the other, a deeper truth
That God had brought me through
And when I think of where I’ve been
Or where I still might go
I find a quiet happiness
In something deeply known
That on every road, both near and far
Through wonder, loss, or glee
There remains a mark in tender evidence
that He will continue to walk with me
