Welcome

Join the Edmonds family as they travel to Guinea, West Africa. Sent off by their local church as a support to the Jahango missions team, the Edmonds are sure to experience many adventures battling snakes, crocodiles, diseases, and more. You won't want to miss a single episode of the Guinea Pig Diaries.

Disclaimer: Reading this blog may provoke side-effects including but not limited to intensive prayer, missions fever, desires to give, and longings for the Edmonds to return.

Monday, July 23, 2012

July 23, 2012


   
 We are now three weeks away from our departure date.  Feeling nervous, excited and at peace all at the same time. 
      This past Friday the leaders of the children’s ministry threw a farewell party for us.  We felt very honored, but at the same time it’s a little weird.  In some ways we’re saying goodbye.  But at the same time, we’re supposed to be coming back.  It’s like the previews of “The Hobbit.”  In a couple different sequences Bilbo asks if he will in fact come back from the journey Gandalf is offering him.  The answer:  “I don’t know.  But I guarantee that if you do come back, you will never be the same.”  Frodo and Sam faced the same issues in “The Lord of the Rings” (it seems fitting that we’ve been watching these considering the epic journey we’re about to embark on). They know that even if they do survive, life can never be the same for them.  They’ve experienced something so different, gone through so much, life just can’t pick back up right where they left off.
     That’s the way I feel.  No matter how long or short our stay may be, it will change us.  When we return, if we return, our perspective will be different.  Our worldview will have grown a little bigger.  Hopefully we will have matured some.  Definitely we will be older.  And though we remain the same people, our experiences will have outgrown the realm of understanding of our friends and family.  We will meet people our friends back home will never get to know.  We will see sights, taste foods and face emotions you just can’t describe.  And life here will have gone on too.  The friends we know will make new friends.  The activities and ministries of the church will progress and develop without us.  Life will have gone on. 
     Of course, this is something I’ve experienced before.  Moving to the states from France.  Going on missions trips in high school.  Moving to Panama.  Traveling to Peru, Thailand, Senegal, Nepal. It happens every time.  Experiencing life and ministry in foreign places changes you.  It changes the way you view yourself, and God.  It changes the way you interact with others.  It changes how you look at life.  So far I’ve come back from those trips a little quieter, a little more serious.  I think I’ve become more humble, and maybe even a little wiser.  But always different.  This is what makes me nervous.
     Still, I know it is harder for the people who stay.  People who go are eager and excited.  They have a new adventure ahead of them.  They will see new sights, try new foods, make new friends.  It’s the thrill of something new.  This is what makes me excited.
     But those who stay are only left with a big hole.  It’s why we have friends suddenly bursting into tears and you just don’t know what to say or do to comfort them; kids and youth telling us they’ve always looked to us as the stable ones in their life, counting on us to be there for them; people asking us to promise that we’ll come back even though that’s a promise we just can’t make.
     Saying goodbye is hard work.  Now I know why most people prefer to settle down, plant roots, stay put.  But the Bible makes it clear, we are just strangers in this land; sojourners, passing through.  Abraham had it right, we are just aliens here.  This is not our home.  Our permanent place of residence is yet to come.  And this is what gives me peace.
     So I guess that’s the answer, that’s why I feel the way I feel…I’m an alien.  Watch out Guinea!  Here comes E.T.!
     “Lord, help us in these last few weeks in Panama.  Grant us grace and wisdom to say goodbye.  Help us be sensitive to those who are grieving for our departure.  As we go, Lord, help us always to remember where we came from; help us to grow and change as you see fit; and help us to inspire in others growth and change too, that we might all view this life as a passing through, holding on loosely to the things of this earth we call dear.  May our gaze always be fixed on Heaven.  May our priority always be in you.  Thank you Lord for the friends we have made, the relationships you’ve blessed us with.  Thank you for the opportunities we’ve had and the ones still to come.  Thank you, God, for how you’ve changed and matured us during our time here in Panama.  And thank you for the changes that are still to come.  Whatever the future holds, Lord, I give it to you.  My life is in your hands.  Amen!”

3 comments:

  1. Two great lines, one a quote from LOTR and one from you:

    [The answer: “I don’t know. But I guarantee that if you do come back, you will never be the same.”]

    [So far I’ve come back from those trips a little quieter, a little more serious.]

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm not sure what I want to say, although I feel a strong echo within my soul when you say "Our permanent place of residence is yet to come." Maybe the best I can say is, "I get it. I really do." And when you're having one of those days, give me a call.

    ReplyDelete
  3. OK, so I'm really tearful reading these blogs. You've already left Panama and you've already arrived in Guinea! Wish I were there with you all. It's a hard place in many ways but a place and its people that will change you for eternity! We love you here and it was very hard to let you go, but, on the other hand, we sent you out gladly to do and be what God desires in a new land. Go boldly!
    In His joy,
    Judy

    ReplyDelete