Four Weeks

Four weeks from tomorrow we will board an airplane and say a final goodbye to this country which has been our home for seven years. It is still incomprehensible to me a lot of the time, but there are more and more moments where the reality is sinking in. Those moments are intense, full of emotion--grief, loss, helplessness, and gratefulness all mixed together.

I had one of those moments, really it was more like two solid days, last weekend. On friday, I hosted a lunch/shower for my good friend Kayla who will be bringing home her long-awaited adopted daughter Jubilee this summer. It was so fun to plan and host and celebrate with this friend! Then, suddenly, I realized--this is probably the last shower I will host for anyone for a long time! Hosting a shower is something you do for a close friend, someone who genuinely knows you and who you also genuinely know. And those kind of relationships, well, I am leaving those behind. I have no doubt my friendship with Kayla and my other dear, dear friends here will continue even when we don't live on the same side of the planet, but those relationships will change and evolve--they'll have to. And in St. Louis, it will probably be quite a while before I know anyone well enough or anyone knows me well enough that I will host a shower for them. And that is hard, and sad, and reality--and only worth it, really, because 1) we know 100% that this move is God's will for us and that he goes ahead of us, preparing our new life there, and will sustain us with his grace through the grieving of our old life and the rebuilding of a new one; and because 2) we know that the community we've had here, great as it is (and it really is so so so great) is still imperfect, but we will experience it restored (!), perfected (!), deepened (!) in the ultimate life that comes after this one.

Its so neat when something your spouse says ministers to your soul. Saturday night we had our group of local friends over, as usual, and David was teaching on what it means to really live in the tension of living "in" this world but not "of" it. We talked about the importance of holding on to our gifts from the Father loosely, and David shared about our current challenge of leaving this place, by which I really mean leaving behind the community we have here. He said,

"The reason these goodbyes are so painful is because we really aren't meant to have to say goodbye to one another. We were created to enjoy this fellowship together for eternity. So it feels wrong, unjust, unnatural in every way to have to say goodbye to you all. But we don't live our lives here and now for for everything to be perfect here and now. Doing that is futile--we'll only experience disappointment. We don't build heavenly lives for ourselves now because this isn't heaven; so we know that the blessing of this community has been a taste of what is to come, and we let it increase our desire for what that time will be like."

I know that I am only beginning the journey of grieving the community we are losing here, but I write this in large part for myself--to re-read and remind myself to trust in God's timing and see the big picture when the current moments are lonely and difficult. Right now, I am trying to have a grateful heart, and do the best I can to love my friends here well for the next four weeks. I'd love your prayers!