Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

In June, my time in wild Papua New Guinea came to an end. After four years, it felt like home and the people who lived there with me, family. I imagine four years spent anywhere would make any parting difficult, excepting prison of course. Heh heh. With seven months between me and that departure, it feels like a dream. The emotional distance seems a greater loss to me than the span of miles.

Over the years, I wrote multiple times outlining my weaknesses. Cringe. There was always a moment of anxiety before posting one of those blogs. That's the closest I'll ever get to streaking. Just saying. To write my heart felt raw and vulnerable, yet so necessary. My need of a Savior was/is no greater than yours, and so I hoped that something I wrote would resound in you and cause you to look to Him too. Over four years, I so heavily leaned on Jesus that my tears must have puddled at His feet. And then there were the days when the victories were so overwhelming, I wanted to tell everyone I saw. Aaaaand....just maybe I repeated some of those stories over and over. Sorry, friends. (You know who you are.) The joy was just spillin' over! That mission trip "mountain high" that we hear about from pimpled teenagers fresh off the plane from Guatemala; well, it's real. But what goes up must come down and it was in the valleys that I encountered God in ways I could never have imagined. But you know that. I wrote about that. 

The matchless joys were hard won, friends. The hardest battles produce the sweetest victories, yes? Even if you're a little beat up. Please read me: the battles were won by the Lord. Sometimes, I stood back in awe and watched Him work. Hallelujah! Other times, He was working and it wasn't until later that I recognized His presence and rejoiced. I am sure that there were even more times that my Mighty Warrior fought hard and won, and I never even knew it. Just thinking about it brings me to tears. There were days in the labor ward when it felt like the light of Christ was the only light there.  

So after all that soul reshaping, the most difficult part of leaving Papua New Guinea was the fear that I would lose that fellowship with my Lord. I know it seems silly, but life in the States is pretty great. There are hard things here too. Some dear ones are walking through indescribable pain here. But from over there, everything here seemed idyllic in comparison. The thought of going back to easy street made me so sad. As much as I ached over the brokenness in New Guinea, I recognized how the Lord had used it to change me, and I wanted more of that. More of Him. 

On my last day in the ward, I took donuts. Folks, if you want to bring people out of the woodwork, bring glazed pastries. I wrote a long letter thanking the staff for allowing me to serve among them and for teaching me so much. I also shared about my plans for the future and my heart to become a midwife. I got hugs and farewells from staff I had never met. I loved it! It was such a sweet day. A midwife mopped over the top of my foot. What an appropriate parting gift. 

I enjoy thoughts of visiting again in a few years. I don't know if it will happen, but allowing myself the pleasure of loosely planning such a trip eases the pangs of homesickness for my tropical island. In the meantime, I continue to look for Christ in my current surroundings. He's here! He has already shown Himself to me; present and steadfast, continuing to shape me into someone that more closely resembles Himself. I bow before His authority in these things. The peaks and valleys of life are here too, and my Savior will walk beside me and hold my hand in the familiar way. 

"But this I call to mind, and therefore have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. 'The LORD is my portion,' says my soul, 'therefore I will hope in him.'"            Lamentations 3:21-24