When The Plane Flies Off...

Dear friends came last week for four days...  they gave up vacation time, money and the comforts of the US to visit, bring sponsor gifts, love children and dream of future projects here in La Moskitia.   This is our second experience with having friends come... and leave. 

The arrival part is easy;  all smiles, anticipation, eagerness, hoping for a glimpse of something larger than ourselves.    The seconds, minutes and hours of talking move one upon the other to form precious conversation.     The delivery of gifts from home add a depth of gratitude unexplainable.    Laying out the truths of this place to a new person is an honor for us... introducing them to our new home is a privilege.

The time sandwiched between arrival and departure is always full...  walking, orphans, food, vulnerable children, single mothers, stories with a depth of life and longing, God, hopes, and so on.

Honesty is becoming, so I will just share from my heart instead of trying to gloss over the departure as if it excluded emotion.   The departure is hard on us... it was in November and it was last week.   Part of me wants to avoid it altogether and just not show up at the airport at all to say good-bye and just pretend that they are all still here, waiting for us around the next corner.

And yet, a 'good' good-bye is a part of life... whether in Honduras, in the US, or at death.  Saying the words that exist in one's heart is as important as feeling them.   We all have the opportunity to choose a 'good' good-bye or to say good-bye without Hope.  

Emotions collide at good-bye...  deep thankfulness,  a touch of envy,  something coming to a close, anticipation once more... and back to just gratitude.   Gratitude that I can feel, I can recognize the beauty in the moment, I can open the gift of a visit and of words of encouragement.

I'm reminded of our friends who serve in Brazil with a large mission organization.  They are not in a location where short-term teams are possible.  Their mission is to an unreached people group.  Their organization dictates when they can come home - 3-4 years without seeing family and friends.  

We have a bit of freedom because of our situation... God's direction to start our own non-profit, His blessing of friends who see our dependence and, without words, give, give and give some more.    Humbling.   Grateful.    Reliance on Christ for today and tomorrow's bread. 

And then, the plane is gone just as quickly as it arrived.    It leaves the red dust on my clothes as a reminder of these gifts, this place, the 100+ little reasons why we are here, the Person that we serve... Christ.   

Worth it.  Every. single. emotion.   And may your every good-bye be filled with His Hope.


Kerri said…
Love your post. Goodbyes are so hard, but so important!! The hope of seeing ones we love is so awesome. I think of Paul and his longing to see those he loved. I'm looking forward to seeing you again my dear, dear friend. hugs (i just typed and deleted "kisses" - - I have to remember I'm not Brazilian, but American and Americans don't put "kisses" at the end of sweet notes)
Love you!
The Herd said…
I so understand what you are saying! Keep looking forward to their visits...even with the pain of the leaving!
You touch my heart friend. What an incredible post. I hate goodbyes but you make such a good point. I can't wait to say hello again but dread saying goodbye again.

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