There is another side of missionary work, one that only the missionaries and their families see. It's the mother who is crying in the kitchen but quickly wipes away the tears so her children don't see. It's the grandfather who tries to explain to his four-year-old granddaughter why he has to go so far away again. It's the sister who keeps looking at her brother with a mental timeline in her head--he's leaving in four weeks. It's the college student who can't go home for Christmas. It's the mother who sees her children leave the nest one by one, not to a place close by, but countries away. I'm talking about goodbyes.
Today I saw my parents leave again. I think this is the eleventh time I have said goodbye to them. It doesn't get easier. It gets harder every time. I know they are doing the Lord's work. I am very happy (and a teeny bit proud) to say my parents are missionaries. If God called my husband to the mission field, we would be out somewhere too. I'm just saying that today is a little bit harder.
I am thankful for the time we had together. I am so thankful that my parents are obeying God. I'm also thankful for another chance to teach my children about the Lord. Abbey knows that Grandma and Grandpa are telling people about Jesus "so they won't be strangers anymore when we go to heaven." I like that thought.
In two days, they will be home in Hungary. We will call them on Skype, see them, talk to them; and it will be almost like having them here again. Almost, but not quite...
Fear thou not; for I am with thee:
be not dismayed; for I am thy God:
I will strengthen thee;
yea, I will help thee;
yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.