Today, I read this poem:

Where the Sidewalk Ends

by Shel Silverstein

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

I cried. We all have our sidewalks. At times we walk with others, at times, we walk alone. A sidewalk ends and another begins. Some are rough cobblestone while others are precise granite. Many are worn and uneven while others are new and simple. 

The sidewalk I've been on for the past two months has been full of surprises. At times it's been steep and treacherous as the steps on the Great Wall. At at other times, it's been sandy and relaxed as the beaches in Hainan. 

No matter the path I've taken, though, no matter how many people I've walked with or how many have taken their own paths, no matter how many times I've stumbled or paused for breath or feared what lay ahead over the next hill, the sidewalk has continued on. 

And I will continue on, grateful for every hard blessing I've received, and grateful for every friend I've found, and especially grateful for the constant companionship of my Father in Heaven. 

I have less than two months left in China. I can't believe how quickly time has passed and how it continues to ebb away, unencumbered by any of my attempts to preserve it. I love this place. I love these people. I love Shelby. I love being here. But this sidewalk will end soon, and I am grateful for the moment when the Lord will tell me that He has work for me elsewhere. I'll be off on a new adventure, but forever grateful for what I have learned.

And maybe someday, if I continue to do my best on every sidewalk I encounter, I will "leave this place where the smoke blows back and the dark street winds and bends." And I will have rest and be reunited with those who I love. For because of the gospel of Jesus Christ, I know where the sidewalk ends.