This is something I wrote after I dropped the kids off at boarding school in Senegal and prepared to return to America. I had not planned on posting this… but thru the
encouragement of a friend, I will - in
the hopes that the expression of it will help someone else to not feel alone
and to remember that God is big enough for anything…
So here I go again, writing out my heart, knowing that I
will search for words and find them wanting…yet. There is so very much in my
heart, a craving, a yearning, a gut-wrenching need to somehow put a finger on
the pulse of my heart.
Little things bother me right now…
that I have a separate flight itinerary than
my children…
that I have to move to a different room after our first
night at the
guesthouse because after tonight
there will only be one of us…
that I don’t have to pack water and
snacks for 3 people…just me.
My bag is too light… my hands are too empty…
the house is too quiet… and all I can think of is how much I want to rewind
time. Rewind to every day of the last 14
years, beginning when my daughter was born…
I would worry less, and laugh more…work less, and play
more… I would be less responsible and more childlike…and I would drink them all
in, treasuring each one. My mind knows
that in reality, I would still get lost in the responsibilities of life, partly
because of my personality, mostly because it is necessary… and that even then,
I would grieve just as hard when I again reached this point. My heart, however, stubbornly disregards this
fact, and persists in grieving what could have… been and now, what will not be.
I force myself to remember the great times I had as an MK
growing up in boarding school, the great memories made and treasured, the
lifetime friendships formed, the independence and abilities, the variety of
experiences so unique to my life… and a tiny piece of me becomes excited for them.
The excitement wars in my heart with the fear… fear that
something will happen to them. The fears
range from big- illness, injury, abuse, political upheaval… to small –
heartache, homesickness, and discouragement. I fear not being able to get to
them when they need me…and I fear that they won’t need me anymore. I fear that the beautiful friendship
blossoming between and my daughter and me, so rare with a 14-year-old, will die
from lack of time together. I fear that
my sensitive- hearted son will stop allowing me those periodic glimpses into the
beauty of his soul.
As my excitement wages it’s war against the sabotage of
fear, I struggle to hold on to truth. It
seems slippery and elusive. I strain to
bring back the moments when my husband and I felt the confirmation from God
that this was right. Was the call to
missions really there, or imagined…is it really best for children to be away
from their parents… thick waves of smoky doubt surround me echoing with voices
from every school of thought, pros and cons fly thick and fast around me until
I can no longer count them… and I cry out for help to the One who Knows.
I am so proud of my children… they are so brave, so
resilient… and yet so trusting. Both of
them sit quietly on the plane, reading books, smiling and talking to themselves
and to me… and yet they have just said goodbye to friends, family, and their
own culture for another two years, possibly three. They know that they are on their way to say
goodbye to me as well… and yet they smile… making the best of everything, just
as I have taught them to do.
Meanwhile, I sit across the aisle, fighting with every
ounce of strength the urge to weep, to demand the plane be turned around, to
grab them up in a huge hug and never, ever, ever, let go. They are so brave, so strong, and yet still
young enough that my son sleeps, sprawled across his seat with his head hanging
into the aisle, then wakes without a crick in his neck. Can I really walk away and leave him?... Is it possible to walk away and leave my children in a foreign country without anyone they know? While he is gone, will he turn into a young
man, will I miss that moment when the butterfly transforms. My mind knows that for any child there are
many such moments, but my heart weeps for the loss of even one… even one
uneventful, insignificant moment is too much to give up, too high of a price to
pay… and yet I press on.
These inadvertent words that slip through my mind in a
whisper bring me back to my Father, who, through the hand of another, gave me
the words…” I press on toward the mark”…
Often life
is unbelievably hard. Things happen to us over which we have no control… but I
have discovered that there is an entirely different sort of hard… one over
which a person has a choice… and I am faced with it now. I must CHOOSE to do the hard thing… the
painful thing…the best thing. And then,
once choosing it, I must run my race, pressing on toward the mark of the upward
calling… without shrinking back.
It is night now… and I sit, reading the Book
of Life… searching, weeping, grasping at anything that might save me from
drowning… and I find it…Hebrews.
Abrahams willingness to sacrifice his own son… a pale reflection of my
Father’s willingness to sacrifice His… and the whispered request from ny Father
that I relinquish my own precious children.
Not sacrifice, but relinquish…and the passages that follow telling of
those willing to be beaten, imprisoned,
killed, etc for the sake of the gospel… and then the clincher… and the world
was not worthy of them.
THEREFORE…
Since we
are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses….
And the
clarity comes… The sword of truth cuts through the clouds of confusion and
doubt… and I KNOW.
I know that that more than anything, I will
not, CANNOT, turn from what God has called me to. I WILL NOT serve my Father with less than my
best… and I WILL NOT give my children any less than the best of an example to
follow. I will model for them a life in which they KNOW that my first priority is to keep both them and myself in the center of God's call and that no amount of selfish desire on my part will remove them from the center of God's will for THEIR lives... from the safest place...
My primary job in raising my children is not
to protect them…
that is a temporary role…
More than that my job is to prepare them for life…
BUT
My primary
job… my PRIORITY job… is to show them how to follow in the footsteps of Christ….
…..so, I press on toward the mark…
.....following in the footsteps of the One who loves me....
......in order that they may know HIM....
.....following in the footsteps of the One who loves me....
......in order that they may know HIM....
