Thoughts on Leaving

We leave Honduras today with mixed emotions. In some ways these have been the shortest two years we've experienced, and in other ways the absolute longest days on record. :) We've come a long way since moving here in 2011 and I'm feeling so much unexpected gratitude for that today. Half of our marriage was lived out here; some of our most precious moments together as a couple with a few of our most hopeless mixed in there, too. Our first daughter was "Hecho en Honduras" and born during this time. Leaving Chicago two years ago, who'd have thought we'd return a family of three? Ilona has been such a bright light in our lives these past 6 months. Also, I've been stretched personally in ways I cannot even begin to understand yet. And professionally we have had such uniquely challenging and rewarding experiences, which I'm sure we will continue to learn from for the rest of our careers. We now have friends literally all over the world. Our Honduran friends have affirmed their love for us by simply reminding me that we will always have a home here with them and in their hearts. We feel the same. Our international friends are moving all over the globe and will likely continue for sometime, making any future travel plans I have up my sleeve just a bit easier and more exciting. Saying goodbye to our new friends, who became family to us the past two years, proved to be a heartbreaking thing. It frankly, sucked. But they say something here: nos vemos: we will see you. I think I prefer that to adios: go with God. There's something more open ended and promising about nos vemos. Of course I pray and hope for God's continued protection and provision for my friends, but nos vemos gives me hope for the slightest chance of a Honduran reunion. So that's what it has to be. Nos vemos.

Now as our return home awaits us by only hours, I'm left in the wee hours of the morning with only my thoughts. I've been asked essentially the same question from different people, and I'm still striving for an answer. "What are you hoping for in this next change?" The most obvious answer, of course, is to be reunited with friends and family, introducing Ilona to everyone and just picking up where we left off. That's sure to happen to some degree, but I also realize we are different, I am different, and you are different, so there's going to be a learning period where we adjust to the new reality of life in the States.

The more hidden answer to that question, and one that I don't completely understand yet, is that I want to stay "changed" by this experience and never forget anything. The good and the bad I want to hold in my heart, accepting the things I've heard, seen and felt as a part of my journey.

I want my heart to remain soft for people, and to continue spending it on behalf of others no matter the cost or sacrifice to myself. I want to enter in to the deep, confusing emotions of leaving a place that I somehow hate yet love so fiercely, and just accept that that's my experience. It's complicated and that's okay.

I always want to see people and look in their eyes. It was a challenge to drive or walk past so many hurting people living on the street where we lived, so much so that I thought many times how much easier it would be to cross the street and walk on the other side. After all, did the pocket change we give actually make a difference? I'm not sure. I did see, though, how even smiling to greet people and looking into their eyes does in fact seem to make a difference. Validating someone's humanity is part of how, I believe, God calls us to love others. We didn't "do" enough here to help people, and I think that's probably always going to be true. We'll never "do" enough, but that's not our mission. Jesus came to love and to "do" and His sacrifice was enough. That frees me to give all that I have and all that I am, whatever that looks like in the moment and in each particular life season, to just loving others. Loving with our words and actions. I think for me that means I need to always look for opportunities to love others and then go after them with a soft and willing heart. I need to always make eye contact, first and foremost, even when it's awkward and uncomfortable. I always need to give when asked. Jason and I decided to give whenever someone asks of us, and it's incredibly freeing. It's not our job to judge the request or ensure the person is deserving. When asked, we want to always give and to give joyfully. That's what we're striving for as one way we can commit to always loving others.

I have been allowed a lot of time here to consider how I want to mother Ilona and how we want to grow our family of three when we're home. Living internationally has broadened our perspective of family and widened our understanding of the world, and we want to remain changed by that. I want Ilona to always know she is fearfully and wonderfully made, just like the rest of God's magnificent creation- the wildlife, trees, animals, other billions of people. I want her to know deep in her soul that she is loved unconditionally by her parents and her Heavenly Father, but that she is a small part of God's eternal picture. I'm not sure how to raise her in a world whose message is overwhelmingly, "me, me, me". "Put yourself first". "Look out for your family only". "You better provide for yourself well both now and in the decades to come, because no one else will." I think these messages reject the Word of God. "Be anxious for nothing". "As I have loved you, so you must love one another". " The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want". We want to learn more how to be in the world, but not of it and raise Ilona in the same way. I think it comes down to your heart, "for where your heart is there your treasure will be also". And so, I hope for the future that our hearts grow more in love with God and that out of that abundance we can give freely of ourselves to others and to the world around us- both near and far.

This is an overwhelming day. Leaving and Coming. I have had some closure, but it seems I still have more questions than answers. I have to learn to be okay with that. I can't wrap this experience up neatly, something I'm very uncomfortable with, so I have to leave my heart soft and mind open for how these short two years in Honduras will continue to change me and my family. I'll keep my eyes open. Nos vemos.