The Hard in Coming and Going Going is hard. Coming is hard. The coming and going between here and there is just … hard.And I’m not just talking the heart–wrenchinggood-byes. The missing family so much it hurts. Physically and logistically, it’s difficult to comeand go in either direction, too. Arriving in the States or in our village in West Africa involves a long trip; then it takes time to get unpacked and settled, get communicationsystems set up, and reconnect as we establish daily patterns for our family. Naturally, all that’s a lot easier to accomplish Stateside, with the blessing of family and friends and high speed internet at one’s fingertips. Here, though … for starters, there’s the moving back into a house in the tropics that hasn’t been occupied in almost a year; it takes weeks to clean and fix and unpack. Lately, with a new baby in tow each time. Somewhere in there, we manage to greet our neighbors, reconnect with village friends and our Scripture Guys*, get communications going, and get ministry outlets up and running. A month later, we’re finally hitting our stride. On our first day back in the village, as I attacked a layer of dirt on kitchen appliances, I had wondered just how many more times I could dothis–the coming and going. To my chagrin I realized that, by God’s grace, we’ve been spared to this day the sickness and trauma thatoften means the going and never coming back for some people in ministry. Sometimes, I just want to go and not come back because … I just miss my family. And well, living here is uncomfortable. Doing everything incontext of a foreign culture and a foreign language, where nothing makes sense and everything takes more time. And one is just hot and tired and dirty. And grumpy, for good measure. However, those seem like lame excuses, and God has knowingly chosen not to give me “better” ones. So we’ll just keep coming and going, and look for pearls in the midst of all the uncomfortable dust. |
|
|