I said two more good-byes today. I drove down to Tampa to see some dear friends and we laughed, talked and ate for nearly 24 hours together. Then a couple of hugs and parting words and I was back in the car, heading back to Orlando and work, and, in 10 days, Israel. I won’t see either of them for at least six months.
After 20 years marked by farewells to one friend after another, for some reason this year hit hard. I remember being sorry to leave my school friends and Kenya buddies last year, and I may have shed a tear or two, but certainly not the tears I’ve shed this year. This year the good-byes were heartbreaking. One would think that after a lifetime of good-byes I would get better at letting go. Nope. I still fumble with the words and practically run away from the scene; and then five minutes later I begin to miss the ones I left behind, wish I had hugged longer and said more, and cry.
Right now I’m working on homework for JUC and tracing Abraham’s journeys across the Middle East. He must have said a lot of good-byes. He travelled literally around all of Israel, Jordan, Syria and Egypt, and spent years and years as a foreigner, a homeless nomad who lived in a tent. Surely the lack of roots, of a settled, stable lifestyle, had to take a toll. And yet, every time God told him to pack up and move, to say good-byes yet again, he did so without hesitating.
Heb 11:8-9
It was by faith that Abraham obeyed when God called him to leave home and go to another land that God would give him as his inheritance. He went without knowing where he was going. And even when he reached the land God promised him, he lived there by faith — for he was like a foreigner, living in a tent. And so did Isaac and Jacob, to whom God gave the same promise.
This year, I’ve wrestled with following a God I can’t see down a path that’s unclear. I’ve stood at blocked path after blocked path and cried out to God, “Where are you taking me?” I’ve said heart-wrenching farewells and hugged dear ones for the last time. I’ve had to let go more times than I like. It’s not an easy lesson, or a pretty one. Faith like Abraham’s is so hard. I’m tracing the bright green arrow that marks “Abraham’s Journeys” on my Middle East map, and praying, “I believe, help me with my unbelief!”
So, driving home tonight, I played pretend. My friends and I were just joking this afternoon that we’re too old to play pretend, but I think we still do. Just to see how it feels, driving down I-4 at 10:30 pm, I pretended I was a middle-class mom with three kids sleeping in the back seat, and I was going home. The dream was bittersweet. This year, I’ve faced the potential of giving up my family, my security, romance, even the school I go to, all for a shaky, uncertain future, and this “pretend” seems very, very far from reality. The truth is, I don’t know where home is any more. I feel homesick wherever I am. I have now come to the realization that wherever I go, I will always be missing someone. I still haven’t found my home.
But neither had Abraham.
Heb 11:10, 13
Abraham did this because he was confidently looking forward to a city with eternal foundations, a city designed and built by God.
All these faithful ones died without receiving what God had promised them, but they saw it all from a distance and welcomed the promises of God. They agreed that they were no more than foreigners and nomads here on earth.
I have picked up one trick to saying good-bye. I discovered it my sophomore year in high school, another year of forever good-byes. These saints that have gone before, that testify to the life of faith, are witnesses not to the faithfulness of men, or the security of home here on Earth, but the faithfulness of God. I too am a witness of that faithfulness. As such, I have an apoplyptic hope: that I do indeed have a home, and one in which relationships shall be restored. Thanks to my faithful, suffering King, these good-byes are not the end.
Heb 11:14-16
For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.
See you there.
KT
