In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you.”
I scanned the faces of the awards assembly crowd for those I loved best; those I taught in second grade that were now in 10th grade, those that began as awkward 7th graders and were soon to don a cap and gown—students that had captured my heart and helped transform a foreign land into my home.
I choked back sobs that were a daily occurrence in our final weeks in country, “You made leaving my home, my family, and suffering through all the trials worth it. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Thank you for changing my life.”
Tears were mutual as we said our goodbyes after assembly, and I wondered what would become of these young lives and hearts. I prayed for each one, that seeds planted would sprout and grow to bear much fruit. I marveled that I would always be able to pray for them by name, no matter upon what soil I stood.
As we processed our departure from the field and intentional steps to leave well, my husband said it best: “If it were easy to leave, then it would mean that our time here was fruitless. Our broken hearts are signs that we have loved well and the Lord has used us here.”
Our feet are now on new ground waiting for our hearts to catch up with us as we labor to make a new home. We know that the Lord will meet us here and give us grace to open our hearts to the people He is calling us to serve in a new season.
When we aren’t sure where to call home, we are reminded that we are just sojourners of this world on our way to our home with the Father in heaven. There is such comfort that we don’t need to ever wonder where our true home is.
I go to prepare a place for you.” John 14:2