A remote place…
Starting over – that is what it feels like to me. We are 56 and
55, empty-nesters and we move back to Africa, Swakopmund in Namibia after 17
years abroad. With us came a stuffed-to-the brim 40 ft container with our
earthly possessions. We moved into a rental house a few weeks ago: comfortable,
not too expensive, but considerably smaller than the two houses we rented in
Europe which
leaves us with a garage chock and block full of stuff.
I look around me and most people, many friends,
our age, have established businesses, successful careers, their own, often
large, homes. They are like an airplane that has reached cruising speed. In
fact, some are already in descent as they are preparing for retirement landing.
Here are we, on the runway, getting ready for lift off? That does not feel right
to me and I cannot help, but ask, was it worth it – the last 15 years, being
missionairies during the best years of our lives? Almost immediately with the
question come feelings of guilt, because we were not forced into missions; both
of us were sure of our calling, that it was the right thing to do. We
had incredible opportunities; we soared like eagles, experienced deep
satisfaction, fulfillment and joy; plunged into dark valleys of searing pain and
disappointment as we poured ourselves into this new, strange world and
career.
We experienced first-hand what it felt like to be hand fed by
God, because we were support raising missionaries and every cent we received
came from friends and family who, in conscious or unconscious obedience to God,
gave to us and to the cause of Christ. It was and still is a humbling
experience; a mystery that I will not understand this side of the grave; a
sacred covenant between a gracious, compassionate, sovereign God and His
children held tight to His bosom. That is why I feel I have to be careful,
cautious to question our journey of the last 17 years. I feel ungrateful and
unfaithful to God Who provided the wings when we soared, and God, who carried
us through the valleys of the shadow of
death.
More than once, when the Israelites grumbled and complained, God,
through His servants, walked back with them through history to help them
remember that He has always been there for them. I look back and I can say the
same: we’ve never gone hungry, we always had a place to sleep; we had clothes
and so much more. We have 2 wonderful, bright boys, an awesome daughter-in-awe,
friends and family who love and care for us. We are in good health…I have
nothing to complain about!
Where does it come from? I compare our current circumstances with
others around me; I look at our bank statements and the dwindling away of our
funds and fear for the unknown and uncertainties jump on me and cloud my
vision…and then the voices…”You will not be able to buy a home – to receive
those who need a haven, a place to rest and recover, like we did the last 8
years; how will Willie and I be able to establish a new career in the next 10
years; I do not have the physical, nor emotional strength to return to a
full-time physical therapy career; how will we repay debt accumulated during
the last 6 years when the economic downturn started, what about retirement,
pension, Hugo’s college, medical insurance
and…and…
Humanly spoken: assessed by the human mind, looked through human
eyes and calculated by human reasoning: a potential grim situation of a future
filled with uncertainties and fears. The result is discontentment with our
situation and the question, “Was it worth it?”
Years ago I got into the habit of rotating through the Gospels –
from John back to Matthew to John. The reason: Someone and I cannot even
remember who it was, said that he found it helpful, because it means following,
listening, watching Jesus: how did He do it, say it, how did He listen, how did
He respond? I joined Jesus, His disciples and a crowd of 5,000 2 weeks ago in
Bethsaida (Luk 9: 10-17) – a place with a story I knew well: Jesus healed those
who needed healing and He spoke about the kingdom of God. Late in the afternoon
the disciples came and said to Him, “Send the crowd away so they can go to the
surrounding villages and countryside and find food and lodging, because we are
in a remote place.” 6 words jumped out like never before: we
are in a remote place – a remote
place…
We know what Jesus did: He told them to feed them! They came up
with five loaves of bread and two fish or suggested to Jesus that they can go
buy food. Jesus instructed the disciples to have the crowd sit in groups of 50,
He took the five loaves and two fish, looked up to heaven, thanked God and broke
them and a crowd of 5,000 had too much to eat, because twelve baskets were
filled with left overs!
They were in a remote place - remote meaning: secluded, isolated,
inaccessible, distant, out of the way, faraway, thus humanly spoken- - no market
around where 5,000 people could buy food; not possible for donkey-carts to carry
enough food in before dark. The disciples were realistic as they looked at the
circumstances and the facts: not possible…’we
are in a remote place…’
They were in a remote place with a
difference: it was a remote place with Jesus!
Willie and I are in a remote place in regards to circumstances
and finances, humanly looked at, not too promising, nor encouraging. Yes, we are in a remote place, BUT we are not
alone in this remote place…we are in a remote place with Jesus! Wow! Not only
did peace descend on me, but I also felt a feather-light stir of excitement…of
anticipation…for what Jesus will do for us in this remote place. Until then – I
will obediently sit down and wait for Him, praying that He will strengthen my
faith, curb my impatience and help to cultivate a grateful heart with
contentment.
Starting over – that is what it feels like to me. We are 56 and
55, empty-nesters and we move back to Africa, Swakopmund in Namibia after 17
years abroad. With us came a stuffed-to-the brim 40 ft container with our
earthly possessions. We moved into a rental house a few weeks ago: comfortable,
not too expensive, but considerably smaller than the two houses we rented in
Europe which
leaves us with a garage chock and block full of stuff.
I look around me and most people, many friends,
our age, have established businesses, successful careers, their own, often
large, homes. They are like an airplane that has reached cruising speed. In
fact, some are already in descent as they are preparing for retirement landing.
Here are we, on the runway, getting ready for lift off? That does not feel right
to me and I cannot help, but ask, was it worth it – the last 15 years, being
missionairies during the best years of our lives? Almost immediately with the
question come feelings of guilt, because we were not forced into missions; both
of us were sure of our calling, that it was the right thing to do. We
had incredible opportunities; we soared like eagles, experienced deep
satisfaction, fulfillment and joy; plunged into dark valleys of searing pain and
disappointment as we poured ourselves into this new, strange world and
career.
We experienced first-hand what it felt like to be hand fed by
God, because we were support raising missionaries and every cent we received
came from friends and family who, in conscious or unconscious obedience to God,
gave to us and to the cause of Christ. It was and still is a humbling
experience; a mystery that I will not understand this side of the grave; a
sacred covenant between a gracious, compassionate, sovereign God and His
children held tight to His bosom. That is why I feel I have to be careful,
cautious to question our journey of the last 17 years. I feel ungrateful and
unfaithful to God Who provided the wings when we soared, and God, who carried
us through the valleys of the shadow of
death.
More than once, when the Israelites grumbled and complained, God,
through His servants, walked back with them through history to help them
remember that He has always been there for them. I look back and I can say the
same: we’ve never gone hungry, we always had a place to sleep; we had clothes
and so much more. We have 2 wonderful, bright boys, an awesome daughter-in-awe,
friends and family who love and care for us. We are in good health…I have
nothing to complain about!
Where does it come from? I compare our current circumstances with
others around me; I look at our bank statements and the dwindling away of our
funds and fear for the unknown and uncertainties jump on me and cloud my
vision…and then the voices…”You will not be able to buy a home – to receive
those who need a haven, a place to rest and recover, like we did the last 8
years; how will Willie and I be able to establish a new career in the next 10
years; I do not have the physical, nor emotional strength to return to a
full-time physical therapy career; how will we repay debt accumulated during
the last 6 years when the economic downturn started, what about retirement,
pension, Hugo’s college, medical insurance
and…and…
Humanly spoken: assessed by the human mind, looked through human
eyes and calculated by human reasoning: a potential grim situation of a future
filled with uncertainties and fears. The result is discontentment with our
situation and the question, “Was it worth it?”
Years ago I got into the habit of rotating through the Gospels –
from John back to Matthew to John. The reason: Someone and I cannot even
remember who it was, said that he found it helpful, because it means following,
listening, watching Jesus: how did He do it, say it, how did He listen, how did
He respond? I joined Jesus, His disciples and a crowd of 5,000 2 weeks ago in
Bethsaida (Luk 9: 10-17) – a place with a story I knew well: Jesus healed those
who needed healing and He spoke about the kingdom of God. Late in the afternoon
the disciples came and said to Him, “Send the crowd away so they can go to the
surrounding villages and countryside and find food and lodging, because we are
in a remote place.” 6 words jumped out like never before: we
are in a remote place – a remote
place…
We know what Jesus did: He told them to feed them! They came up
with five loaves of bread and two fish or suggested to Jesus that they can go
buy food. Jesus instructed the disciples to have the crowd sit in groups of 50,
He took the five loaves and two fish, looked up to heaven, thanked God and broke
them and a crowd of 5,000 had too much to eat, because twelve baskets were
filled with left overs!
They were in a remote place - remote meaning: secluded, isolated,
inaccessible, distant, out of the way, faraway, thus humanly spoken- - no market
around where 5,000 people could buy food; not possible for donkey-carts to carry
enough food in before dark. The disciples were realistic as they looked at the
circumstances and the facts: not possible…’we
are in a remote place…’
They were in a remote place with a
difference: it was a remote place with Jesus!
Willie and I are in a remote place in regards to circumstances
and finances, humanly looked at, not too promising, nor encouraging. Yes, we are in a remote place, BUT we are not
alone in this remote place…we are in a remote place with Jesus! Wow! Not only
did peace descend on me, but I also felt a feather-light stir of excitement…of
anticipation…for what Jesus will do for us in this remote place. Until then – I
will obediently sit down and wait for Him, praying that He will strengthen my
faith, curb my impatience and help to cultivate a grateful heart with
contentment.
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