As most of you are aware, we were told to leave our beloved home by our leaders last week to move to a “safer” neighboring country as war unfolds in our own. Our team experienced this last year during the coup d’état but this is a first for us. It has been an interesting time, with a wide variety of emotions and thoughts.
From the time we were told we would leave until the time we left was about 18 hrs, which included a night’s sleep. So as any mom can imagine, those hours were filled with rushing around trying to compile all the things our family would need for quite possibly the next month. Add to this that there aren’t big grocery stores and no Targets around to get the things you may have forgotten. Piles were made in each room and eventually made it into bags. Packing like this does not allow you to process the reason WHY you are doing it; the only focus is the job at hand. I didn’t make it to the hospital like I wanted before we left, but did manage a few moments of love and kisses with Caroline, our dog. She was responsible for passing that love on to the other 20 animals in our yard. And before I knew it, we were off, crammed in our car like sardines.
The stress decreased as the trip went on, especially once we were through the border. We had to travel 3 hrs after the border and wanted to get there before dark so spending hours waiting for those to process our papers at the border was stressful. The trip ended, much to Anna’s demise, with over an hour of “Say, ‘ton, ton, ton….What shines brightly at night?’…..’The sun!’….’ha-gotcha!’” again and again with new words added in. I think at that point Anna would have rather been kidnapped. JBut at least the kids were occupied and content.
On the way, completely on his own and out of the blue, Kenan said, “We don’t choose where we live. God does.” To which Dawson replied, “I know. I’m glad God chose for us to live in Mali.” Kenan agreed emphatically, “Mmmee too!” Cue the sound of breaking of a momma’s heart.
The woman who set holding her newborn almost 8 years ago, fighting with the Lord over how much harder the task set before her would be now that she had a child, would never imagine the thoughts she’d have now in this situation. Years ago I mourned the life my kids would never have, that I was taking them from all things “normal” and “stable.” Yet they love their home and want to go home. And one of the greatest reasons I WANT to return is FOR my kids.
One of our fellow teammates asked me the other day if I was relaxing and getting rest. We are sitting at a beautiful hotel, complete with a pool and good food, with no requirements for our days. The biggest tasks include deciding what to eat or going to buy things in the market. So it is relaxing, with a backdrop of uncertainty and confusion. Momentary relaxation, I guess, if that is possible.
We aren’t uncertain about what we want to do but the uncertainty comes in if we will be allowed to do it and when and what the rest of our team will do and how this will affect us. What if all the other families go on early home assignment and my boys are the only ones left? What if only a few return? What if we aren’t allowed to go back at all?
This situation, though, has reminded me clearly that man plans his course but it is the Lord who determines our steps. We never know what tomorrow will bring. We do not know what lies in our future yet often, in stability, we think we do. We rely on our circumstances and falsely assume we have control over ourselves and our circumstances. Even more so, I think, in the US. We think we are safe and we think we have more control of our lives than we do. We often can live under a false sense of security. In this situation we can’t. We honestly do not know what tomorrow will bring and we can’t really pretend that we do. Our lives are in His hands and we wait for His direction. And though this whole situation is overall unpleasant and not what we had planned, I am thankful for the vivid reminder that I am not in control.
And then there is the whole subject of safety. Let me make it clear that first and foremost I do not want to put my family in clear danger. If it is unwise to be somewhere, I do not want to be there. Plain and simple. Nothing is as important as my four boys (Brett included) and I don’t want to do anything that puts them at unnecessary risk. That being said, as Brett has said, it is very easy to determine a place unsafe but very hard to then call it safe. In reality, no place is “safe” and in all honesty, I do not see my risk any less sitting in a neighboring country than I do in my own home (when the risk of which we are mostly concerned is kidnapping). There is undeniably a risk of kidnapping probably anywhere in West Africa at this point and I am not convinced that a border makes one more or less safe. So then the question arises if you return to your homeland to be “safe” or go back to where your heart is? And considering the homeland, it seems every day I check the news there is a new story of a shooting somewhere or a hurricane or some other weather event that destroys homes and lives. So back to my original point, no place is “safe.” We may fool ourselves to believe it as such, but reality speaks louder. One day or another, whether by death, illness, nature or even war, our safe, comfortable world will be shattered. We are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. (James 14:4) In this world you will have trouble, but take heart for I have overcome the world. (John 16:33)
So where does all this rambling lead me? If I believe that no place is truly “ safe,” that in this world there will be trouble (thus there is no place free of trouble), and that the safest place for me is in His will, then that leads me to want to go home. We shall see if that happens, the Lord only knows.
There is no music during a musical rest, but the rest is part of the making of the music. In the melody of our life, the music is separated here and there by rests. During those rests, we foolishly believe we have come to the end of the song. God sends us times of forced leisure by allowing sickness, disappointed plans, and frustrated efforts. He brings a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives, and we lament that our voices must be silent. We grieve that our part is missing in the music that continually rises to the ear of our Creator. Yet how does a musician read the rest? He counts the break with unwavering precision and plays his next note with confidence, as if no pause were ever there.
God does not write the music of our lives without a plan. Our part is to learn the tune and not be discouraged during the rests. They are not to be slurred over or omitted, nor used to destroy the melody or to change the key. If we will only look up, God Himself will count the time for us. With our eyes on Him, our next note will be full and clear. If we sorrowfully say to ourselves, “ There is no music in a rest,” let us not forget that the rest is part of the making of the music. The process is often slow and painful in this life, yet how patiently God works to teach us! And how long He waits for us to learn the lesson. -John Ruskin, Streams in the Desert, January 22
My face is shining upon you, beaming out Peace that transcends understanding. You are surrounded by a sea of problems, but you are face to Face with Me, your Peace. As long as you focus on Me, you are safe. If you gaze too long at the myriad of problems around you, you will sink under the weight of your burdens. When you start to sink, simply call out, “Help me, Jesus!” and I will lift you up. The closer you live to Me, the safer you are. Circumstances around you are undulating, and there are treacherous-looking waves in the distance. Fix your eyes on Me, the One who never changes. By the time those waves reach you, they will have shrunk to proportions of My design. I am always beside you, helping you face today’s waves. The future is a phantom, seeking to spook you, Laugh at the future! Stay close to Me! – Jesus Calling, January 15
