As I sit down to write I am at once drawn to other things. My desire to talk about the events of the last month is at the same time stifled by my unwillingness to talk about the hurt that we have experienced. We were asked to leave our home on Dec 8 but we were shown the potential of these day several weeks before that.
We went to a thanksgiving celebration on Wednesday afternoon. When we returned home there was a message from the Ministry of Immigration requesting t hat we come in on Thursday morning with our passports. Our hearts were crushed immediately. We walked through the evening like zombies. In July our friends and teammates had been called into Immigration in a similar fashion and were asked to leave the country on 5 days notice. That evening Jonathan and I did battle with the evil one fighting discouragement and trusting in the Lord’s plan for us.
Our interview the next day with Immigration lasted an hour, they wanted to know all the details of our lives. As I prayed and cried that evening the Lord revealed to me how events would unfold. He told me the day we would be asked to leave and confirmed on my spirit a plan to release us from our work in country. Still we cried. Cried for friends that we wouldn’t be seeing. Cried for our jobs that we really loved. Cried for our home lost. Cried for “family” that we probably won’t see on this earth again. Cried for our son who would miss knowing his first home. Cried for people we would leave under a repressive government. Cried for our own selfishness of wanting a plan and continuity.
The month of December past in a flurry of moving, packing, selling, hugging, kissing, laughing and crying. Still there are tears but at the same time there is promise.
So my family is sitting in the US now, truly uncertain as to where the Lord will lead in the New Year. We still ache for our former country, but know that He began a good work.
A picture of a girlfriend who would have gladly spent all of her days with @ I miss her so much. She loved having cappucino with me and I always left feeling blessed. Miss those days; largely because it is crazy cold here (yeah, this isn't what 60 really feels like).
1 comment:
I only jokingly mentioned on your blog or Jon's about how similar it felt when we were asked to leave our ministry in Kentucky, but really after reading your entry today, I think I do understand a little of what you're feeling. We were sure, it was God's "plan" or "timing" when we went there, yet felt so disoriented when our time there was over. It was like, what do we do now? Did any of the past 21 months matter? We've had the blessing of, over the years, getting some confirmation that our time there was sufficient. (Occasional phone calls or letters from kids we discipled, who really aren't kids anymore . . .) I think we completely were able to stop being so concerned about ourselves while we were there, because the whole reason we lived there was to care about the kids we worked with and the folks at our church. And then when that was over, we were too aware of ourselves again, that we were a little sad and a little afraid. If that makes any sense. I felt actual grief from not getting to see the faces of our youth group kids every week after we left. Whereas while we were there I looked at them and just wanted them to know Jesus more. We pretty much dealt with all that by spending a lot of late nights reading books for free at Barnes N Noble and drinking coffee. Others may deal a little differently. I am praying for the three of you.
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