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!”
Two great lines, one a quote from LOTR and one from you:
ReplyDelete[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.]
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.
ReplyDeleteOK, 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!
ReplyDeleteIn His joy,
Judy