This word came to mind recently as I was thinking about the current state of our life. We’ve had many reasons to rejoice, but just as many reasons to take pause and grieve.
Our time here at “home” has been a mixture of equal parts joy and pain. Being displaced can have a deep, spiritual affect on those already weakened by circumstance. It took us many months to feel okay with waiting. There were many ebbs and tides with waiting, though.
I came to many checkpoints and turning points causing me to question and reevaluate. Is this where we are supposed to be? Are we supposed to return to the field? Did we make the right choice? Is there a reason why we are here? Are we unqualified? How much longer should we wait? Have we wasted too much time already? Each point was an opportunity to stop and pray; to listen to and receive truth.
One of my favorite psalms is Psalm 27; it ends with a message of hope:
I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord
Psalm 27:13-14
in the land of the living!
Wait for the Lord;
be strong, and let your heart take courage;
wait for the Lord!
This has been a great test of faith for us. It has been a daily stepping of faith not knowing what the next day would bring. As much as we wanted to live in the present, it was difficult to battle uncertainty and to be ready to go at any moment. We went through many cycles of watch, wait, pray, repeat. Each cycle was met with a reminder of God’s enduring faithfulness and a deeper conviction to His calling.
Losing the Big Country left a deep hole in our lives. It was the first place and people we were called to, the birthplace of two of our children, and a place that felt like home after three and half years. God then led us back to the Island, a place we instantly loved. It brought us back to the water (any SoCal native can understand), gave us an opportunity to further study language, and gave us a sense of comfort knowing we could still reach our beloved people.
As we waited to go back, we watched with bated breath as the Island remained closed. We grew accustomed to the wait and lived life as normally as possible. We were asked to come and serve a fellowship there, which helped us to feel more connected to the Island and to the people. As tides changed and we grew closer to going, our family was excited. I was excited at the prospect of having people in our home again, finally furnishing a place with items that actually fit our needs, and serving our local community.
Once our visa process started, it was all hands on deck to get us ready to go. We were hurriedly packing, purging, and saying goodbyes so that we could be ready to leave as soon as we had tickets in hand. But unbeknownst to us, that day would not come. Just a week before we were set to leave, we received news that we could not return to the Island.
We were devastated. Angry. Heartbroken. Confused. I’m not sure the pain of this change has really subsided, but God, in His abundant mercy, reminded us of this truth through our dear friends:
You who have made me see many troubles and calamities
Psalm 71:20-21
will revive me again;
from the depths of the earth
you will bring me up again.
You will increase my greatness
and comfort me again.
We do not understand this, but we have faith in the One who does. I spent time thanking God for His sovereignty. If He was not in control, we could not bear this. We are, in some ways, bereft of house and home. Bereft of clarity and direction. Bereft of peace. But as we once again pick up the pieces of our life, I am reminded of what is at stake. This quote from a worker who as gone before us encouraged me greatly:
The work is not a pretty thing, to be looked at and admired. It is a fight. And battlefields are not beautiful. But if one is truly called of God, all the difficulties and discouragements only intensify the Call. If things were easier there would be less need. The greater the need, the clearer the Call rings through one, the deeper the conviction grows: it was God’s Call. And as one obeys it, there is the joy of obedience, quite apart from the joy of success. There is joy in being with Jesus in a place where His friends are few ; and sometimes, when one would least expect it, coming home tired out and disheartened after a day in an opposing or indifferent town, suddenly how, you can hardly tell such a wave of the joy of Jesus flows over you and through you, that you are stilled with the sense of utter joy. Then, when you see Him winning souls, or hear of your comrades victories, oh ! all that is within you sings, I have more than an overweight of joy!
Amy Carmichael