Seven Years

Today, seven years ago, we stepped off a plane (Malaysian Airlines, if you can believe it!) and into a new country.... a new life. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into but we were committed to follow the Lord where He led and this is where He led...

I told someone today that I’d never thought we’d make it seven years. That’s a lie. We fully intended to stick to this path the Lord had put us on. What I meant to say was I never thought I would have lived this life that I’ve lived this past seven years. We knew coming over here that living here would kick out butts. It has. We had no clue what we were getting ourselves into. We just knew the Lord said “Go” and so packed our life up in America and grabbed our (then!) two baby boys and we went. 

They never told us in our missionary training... how hard it would be. Maybe they did; maybe I just didn’t believe them. It has been the hardest thing we have ever done.

In the past seven years, I have learned to make yogurt from scratch. And bread. And refried beans and a whole host of other things that come in a can in America. I can turn whole coconuts and leaves and roots into the most amazing beef curry dish you have ever eaten. I have learned to use a voltage regulator and a generator and dose medicines and read malaria tests. I can explain water filtration systems and solar electric systems and wash laundry by hand. I stock up on food so we can stay put when there’s the occasional riot in town and I can present the Gospel in another language. I have fought ants and roaches and rats and geckos..... because every bug story you have every heard about the mission field is true. 

In the past seven years, I have been misdiagnosed with a heart defect, miscarried a child, broken 4 toes and suffered a horrible mosquito borne disease that I still feel the effects from 5 years later. I have watched my children suffer from diseases I never even knew existed before we came here. I have seen people cheat and steal from us even as we tried to help them. I have seen fellow missionaries buried in this soil. I have cried more tears than I ever did in America.

And yet.... and yet.... In the past seven years, I have seen God do amazing miracles. I have seen Him provide hot fresh, french bread to my door even as I cried over a Subway sandwich advertisement in an American magazine. I have seen Him heal my sick little boys despite the lack of a good American hospital nearby. I have sang “You give and take away but blessed be Your name” and I have experienced the incredible power of worshipping God in loss. I have seen Him give grace and be so gentle in each hardship and trial. I have seen His character revealed in a deeper, more powerful ways. He has given us deep friendships and meaningful work and the profound satisfaction of being used by Him to make a small difference in this little corner of the world. 

We are standing on the brink of a new phase of ministry. One that I am afraid will be the hardest yet. I am scared. So I am thankful for these past seven years; they have been good lessons of God’s faithfulness and power.... lessons I am going to need to remind myself of in the coming days. I have no clue what these next seven years hold. But I know God will be faithful through them and I am thankful.

Leaving LAX for the first time with our little boys