Hellos and Goodbyes

Part 5 of "Two Years of Uncertainty"

Quotes to Consider:

“Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting.” (J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan)

“The story of life is quicker than the wink of an eye, the story of love is hello and goodbye...until we meet again” (Jimi Hendrix)

The struggle is real

This book has been on my shelf for 15 years, and I have not yet read it…so do I really need to ship it back across the ocean to our new home in Idaho?

Yes… the voice in my head screams…yes, and not only this book, but all of them!

For some reason, my wife is not in agreement with me on this. Unfortunately, I know that she is right.

My last great book purge was in 2013 as our family planned to move from the cool mountain city of Malang in East Java to the sweltering, sea-level Sumatran city of Palembang. It was a painful process of picking and choosing — which archive of knowledge not yet examined was I going to give up on, never to know what was contained inside. And which of those books would I deem unworthy for the journey?

It’s like having to choose between one’s children.

That might be a slight exaggeration.

So here we sit, staring at a house full of possessions, many of which carry memories. Most of it can’t go with us, so it will be sold or given away. Some of the decisions are easy. As much as we love our refrigerator, there’s no room for a fridge in our suitcases. But other things — a third-grade report card from our daughter who is graduating high school, a model airplane I made with my son, a painting I bought while on vacation, or a box of computer cords that I’m sure to need someday — can cause a great deal of emotional wrangling.

“If it can be replaced in the States for $10 or less,” I hear from the next room, “don’t even think of packing it.”

Fine…but $10 for this and that and the other will add up very quickly…

I throw another book and a cord to a Wi-Fi router that stopped working onto the giveaway pile long ago.

Photo by Lea Böhm on Unsplash

There’s no place like home

After twenty years of living overseas in the Philippines and Indonesia, we made a difficult decision to return to the States for this next season of life, to be closer to our TCK *children as they finish high school and begin university and to be closer to our other family members who have so supportive of us for so many years.

*Third Culture Kids (TCK) are young people who have grown up primarily overseas; their first culture is that of their parents (or their passport culture), which they may or may not understand very well. This is one reason we have always spoken English in our home and included American food, games, and media in our family life. Their second culture is the culture in which they have lived—the ministry context—which they also may or may not understand well. A child’s “third culture” is their own unique, mixed and matched combination of the other two cultures and other factors.

We have peace about “coming home” for this season of life, but it doesn’t make the process easy. Some people will say that this world is not our home, that our lives here are separate and inferior to what we will experience in heaven. There is some truth to this — what we know, understand, and experience now is but a shadow of what our lives will be like in the full light of God’s glory.

However, this world that God created and called good is the only home we have at this time. Things may not be as they should at this point in history, but we — God’s people, the Church — are to be agents of transformation in this world. We are part of the new creation in Christ, and it is through us that God is making all things new—here and now, in this world.

We do not endure this world, merely biding time until our escape. Instead, we are to live active, meaningful, and Christlike lives, believing that hope is not lost and that the world around us is not beyond the hope of redemption—it will, in fact, be redeemed and restored.

Our Christian calling is not as much about the specific work or ministry in which we are involved or the location in which we practice it as much as it is found in our living out of the two great life-changing and world-transforming commandments—loving God and loving our neighbor—at all times, in all places, among all people. Wherever we do this, we are at home in God’s kingdom.

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Hellos and Goodbyes

Twenty-five years ago, on my first day in Indonesia, I met Indri. The school had hired her to work as the house helper in the home I shared with the other single male teachers. It was a hard, thankless job, I’m sure. The pile of stinky, sweaty clothes that greeted her each Monday morning after a weekend of basketball and bike-riding more than earned her pay. Add to that cooking from scratch, cleaning during tropical downpours, and shopping daily at the traditional outside market.

In those days, house helpers were a necessity for full-time teachers. After two years, I decided to return to the U.S. I promised to help her two grade-school girls continue their schooling, an unexpected blessing to Indri and her husband, a Christian religion teacher at a local public school. Over the years, both girls graduated from high school and then attended university, majoring in mathematics.

To this day, I’m still not sure if they chose mathematics because they loved it, or because I was a math teacher. Whatever the case, they both graduated from university, became math teachers, got good jobs, and are now able to help provide for their parents as they grow older.

Several days ago, we showed up suddenly at their home after two years in the States. Indri ran to us as fast as her bad knees would carry her, wrapped her arms around my mid-section, rested her head against my sternum, and repeated over and over, “we missed you both so much…we love you.”

When we told them of our plan to return to the States, the sadness seeped through her eyes even though, as parents, they understood and, as our own parents have been, were supportive of this decision we have made. As I type these words this evening, I find myself emotionally drained while at the same time deeply grateful for the good people and good relationships that have been a part of my life for many years.

Deciding which books to keep and which to discard is one thing, but relationships cannot simply be tossed to the side.

My life has been shaped, my faith has been formed, and the person I am today is due to the intricate network of relationships within which my life has been lived. And for that, I am thankful.

Like the best stories, the people in our lives continue to influence us even when the relationship is no longer a daily reality—they are characters that form the scenes around which our life stories are lived.

---