A Week of Lasts

Ann Voskamp, whom I highly respect, says, "You're meant to do hard and holy things because they are the next thing - to get you to the best thing."

The next gets us to the best. And there's no other way to get there but holy and hard.

This week has been hard and holy. It's been one of packing and crying and a heck of a lot of other things. We have waited in great expectation for an answer to a prayer and it wasn't the answer we hoped for but it was an answer. This week was full of victory and disappointment. Hellos and goodbyes. Junior rode in the car yesterday and said, "I don't have any words. I'm just sad you're leaving." It's kind of like that. No words this week. I did have some words with a leader that I wished had not been building up but I had an opportunity to share and did so. Glad I have the words when I need them. I also heard from several other women leaving the field and thank God for putting us all together in this season. We serve a good God. Re-entry was so hard last time. We base our fears on past experiences and pray this time will be different. I text a missionary friend in a weak moment and she agrees, children not wanting to leave the field tugs at a unique place in a mother's heart that makes her have to decide again that what God calls us to he will carry us through despite our emotions or those of our children. Amen and another step forward, another item in the suitcase, another room swept.

This is the week of "lasts." This is the week I'll say yes to Chi Chi when she asks if we're leaving, the week I'll finish women's Bible study, children's church, playground time with our friends, last diri ak pwa, last hugs, last English tutoring, last mountain run, last week of school, last team, last everything here.

I'm praying the "next" will take us to the best and the lasts won't linger. The next will be a new adventure, a start and not an end.

This morning we went to church for our last Sunday here. We were met with words of encouragement and blessings from the pulpit. I especially appreciated when Coach (Pastor Mickenson as he should be called on Sunday morning) said, "I love Lilly and Ava ... and they love me too. I am sure." The numbness I wrote about before seems to come and go and today seemed more present than the last few days. We woke up to generator problems and no power. Coffee was set down. Prayers ended early and Farmer was off to fix the generator since he is the only one on the compound who knows how. Lights came back on and the fans started moving. He walked in the house and smiled. A job well done. No surprise. Probably not a "last" yet. Next week he won't be called in with tools and jumper cables. He won't be here.

A friend stands up to say we will be leaving soon and I see the faces of our friends in the orphanage. There smiles drop and their tears well up. What? I can see the confusion and Lilly makes eye contact with me and comes running to my arms with tears. She says, "Now they know, mom." We've been waiting to tell them. Hoping that would make the goodbyes a little shorter and the sadness linger less.

I walk up to Hope Center and take Aves to the potty. We are met with Guelson's car. Aves goes running to him and says see you later mom. He walks down to church and my girl's arms are wrapped around his neck. He says he's missed those arms around his neck and he loves her. In a minute I turn around and Coach is singing Because He Lives and Guelson's arms are raised high and I am so thankful I can face tomorrow.

Mary passes the offering plate and leans down to kiss me and Charles and sweet, teary Lilly in my lap. She says she is going to miss us and keeps passing the plate. The team behind us sees the interaction and I feel a hand on my shoulder. Tears want to trickle over but I try my best to stop them. So many people in the room I want to say thank you to and hug one more time.

Soon Coach sings the song Ava refers to as the "pa bon" song and I smile. Ava smiles too. We sing along. I make eye contact and I know he knows we like that one and he sang it for us. We stand and the kids file out for childrens' church. About 50 of them. We sing about God's love for us and about Father Abraham all lined up in their Sunday best. Mensia feels bad but she says she wants to teach with me today no matter what. The kids listen to the story and before long it's over. I collect books and they walk out humming under their breath and talking to their buddies.

I return the books and smile walking out of the church. Last Sunday church.

But Bible study is tomorrow and more to look forward to in the days ahead. There is a treasure in the lasts that doesn't come with any other. I am elated when I hear people's expressions of love for us that go far beyond anything I knew.

I can bravely do the next thing because God's got this thing. Thank you, God I can move to the next thing. You had this thing before I ever took a breath.

One step in front of the other.

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let me then, with CONFIDENCE, draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive MERCY and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:15-16