Goodbyes are never easy, often they wreck me. My heart has been torn in every direction over the past month or so, holding onto that last embrace, not knowing when it will come again. But, when the ache of those goodbyes is confronted with the warmest welcome, my heart begins to heal. In fact, it heals pretty instantly.
If there was one thing I have been asking God for most lately, it would be that He provide a peaceful transition for me and my family. That the comfort of His arms would catch me when I jumped off that cliff into the unknown. Not only did He catch me, but He is holding me. He is carrying me through the unfamiliar valley, fulfilling His promises and showing me the beauty of His glory and grace as He gently whispers His purposes for me that are just up ahead. When worry and anxiety creep around, He fights it off. He’s got me, embracing me every step. He wanted me to jump, knowing it took a reckless faith, but also knowing that He’d be there at the bottom, waiting with arms wide open.
It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, that I would be here in a foreign land and feel so at peace. That though I have much to do and learn, I can feel so at ease. It is Jesus, I tell you. He has surrounded me with people here who genuinely love me like their own, who invite me fully into their lives with no hesitation, no reservation. The Lord takes care of His children. He is a good Father.
So when I am greeted with that beautiful, African accent simply asking “how are you?,” my feelings are much more heartfelt than the words I am expected to produce in response. “I am fine” does not do it justice, because I am so much more than just that. I am held in the arms of my Father here. I am deeply loved and cared for here. I am in love with faces and with places here. For here is home, and knowing that mends my heart whole.