Saying Goodbye

I’ll never forget what it felt like to pack up my “few” suitcases, wait in the airport with my family, say my goodbyes, and board a plane headed to the middle of nowhere. Having never traveled to that part of the world, that’s certainly how it felt to me. I was 22 years old.

It feels so strange to think about that day now, as so many things have changed in our world with the passage of time. Do you remember what it felt like to walk to the gate with your loved ones and wait until they started boarding the plane? Or the incredible feeling of making those final steps off the walkway and stepping into a warm reunion of family and friends, with welcome home signs and giant hugs and delicious goodies, then talking excitedly all the way to baggage claim together? Those were such good days!

That particular August day, I was a jumbled mix of excitement and terror. I’ve never been very good at saying goodbye. In fact, as the day approaches, I pull away a little more with each passing day. It’s some sort of internal survival mechanism. When the day arrives, I’m just ready to say my goodbyes and be done with it! Put that part of the journey behind me, shoulders squared, and step forward. It was like this with each goodbye we had to say over the years. I’m pretty sure it drove my mom crazy. She’d see me transition to “go-mode,” a constant reminder that our days were numbered.

By the way, saying goodbye never gets any easier . . . no matter how many times you do it. In fact, throw grandkids in the equation and it gets infinitely more difficult.

As a single young woman, I was so thankful to meet up with another lady and travel most of the way together. It wasn’t easy to get to the middle of nowhere. No matter the route, you were looking at a 24 hour trip, including hours-long layovers and several hours-long flights. Through the years of travel, I learned to appreciate the layovers in beautiful cities and even adjusted to the long flights, but I’m not sure that I would say it was ever easy.

As I think back to that time, it was before cell phones took off. So hard to fathom now. And laptops were still novel and clunky, but I was so very thankful to have one. I was able to connect with my family via email, though I threatened to throw my laptop out the balcony window many times because the connection was slow and terrible and didn’t work half the time.

Even a few years down the road, communication back to the States wasn’t easy. When we called our parents to tell them we were expecting our first child, their first grandchild, we were crammed in an internet phone booth, one of several throughout the city, just trying to share our excitement and make the most of whatever means of communication was available. Though not ideal and a far cry from all the modern ways people announce the coming arrival of a little one, it’s a sweet memory that I cherish.

I do remember, though, that this was also the exact year that cell phones really took off in that part of the world. Our very first cell phones were little Nokia phones, where you had to push each button five thousand times to send a simple text message! With each advancement in technology, I was grateful for the doors it opened in communicating with locals, friends close by, and family far away.

I have always loved to read about other people who had gone into the great unknown, to carry the gospel. Their stories fascinated me and encouraged me early on in my journey. Whenever I read about Lottie Moon and her courage in both living and dying, my faith was challenged. When I read about Amy Carmichael and her total abandon to the Lord’s will, even in sickness, I wondered how it was possible. When I read about Elisabeth Elliot and her no-nonsense-resolve to love Jesus more than anything else, I was determined to live with the same resolve.

And then we read about lives from an even earlier time in history, when people just like you and me packed their few earthly goods into coffins and set sail on the seas, knowing they would never set foot again in their homeland, to share the Hope they knew, setting their sights on eternal glory. Are you not stirred within by such account?

I was.

I am.

In the biography of Elisabeth Elliot’s life, Ellen Vaughn writes of Elliott’s greatest accomplishment, “It was practicing–through both the high dramas and the low, dull days that constitute any human life–the daily self-death required for one’s soul to flourish” (Becoming Elisabeth Elliot, 13).

The journey never looks like we imagine. I remember a day over there, like any other, when we had gathered with some other like-minded people, working in different ways but all with similar purpose. At one point during our time together, one of the gentlemen stood up and shared some words of encouragement. I’ll never forget him saying, “Look around this small room. Of all the people who could be sitting in this room, we are. We are the weirdos who left everything behind and live in this foreign land. We are the ones God brought to this place.” There was no pride in his statement, just a recognition that we had, indeed, surrendered all, sold everything, packed a few bags, and found ourselves living together as foreigners in this remote place on the other side of the world.

Why?

Because we loved Jesus more than anything else. And we wanted others to have that opportunity too.

I miss weirdos.

Though we had planned to live out the rest of our days on foreign soil, in places desperately in need of Hope, God had other plans. And that’s ok! We can be weirdos right where we are today.

Though we don’t have to necessarily pack our bags, we can still live in a state of complete surrender each and every day.

It looks like dying to self every single day.

It looks like choosing to follow Christ, even when others don’t.

It looks like standing open-handed before the Lord.

It looks like speaking Truth, in a world that prefers to see things in gray.

It looks like saying no to excess, in a world that says you can have it all.

Let’s fast forward a decade or so . . . We now live in a very connected world. We have computers as phones. The world is at our fingertips. We can talk to people on the other side of the world in real time, or hop on a plane and be there tomorrow.

We also live in a culture that celebrates self. In every way. Therefore, we must fight against this view and look at everything through the lens of the cross, the gospel, the Word. The very words of Jesus compel us to deny, even die, to self time and time again.

“Then Jesus told his disciples, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?'” (Matthew 16:24-26 ESV).

I laugh at myself now. I thought my time overseas was a good, fertile soil where God tilled up the self, the pride, the control in my life. Looking back, from the vantage point of twenty years later, it was just the tip of the iceberg.

Even more so now, I must daily put down my self, my wants, my desires, my hopes, my dreams. I’ve held up many a fist, clenched, holding on to pieces and parts of myself that I didn’t want to let go of. It’s so ugly. As I care for my kids, as I literally carry my son around and get the waste out of his body multiple times a day and brush his teeth and give him baths and administer life-saving medicines, I’m reminded of what it truly means to lay down your life for someone else.

That’s what God has called each one of us to do. Put down our very lives and offer ourselves up to Him, to use in any way that He deems worthy. Less of me. More of Him.

I still fight this battle daily. And scripture is clear that I will fight this flesh and blood battle every single day that I draw breath. This world will lie to you and tell you that it’s ok to run hard after things that you desire, it’s ok to put yourself first, it’s ok to take some time to focus on your needs, and go ahead and make those grand plans for what you want.

But, is it really ok? After all, if you have truly died to self then what cares or concerns or rights do you really possess?

Listen, I don’t want you sitting there thinking that I’ve got all of this figured out. No way. All I know is I want to get to the end of my life and be able to say that I followed Him with my whole heart and lived in total obedience to Him. That means bringing every single thing to the altar and laying it before Him. I only remember these truths when I am daily sitting in the presence of my Father and fixing my gaze on Him. Only then do the things of the world begin to fade away. Only then do I come to Him with open hands, in total surrender.

There are many days that I am beyond grateful for the circumstances of my life that keep me living one day at a time, fully focused on making it through today. I do the next thing because it’s what the Lord has given me at this very moment in time to do. And when I find myself holding on to something with that clenched fist of mine, I am once again challenged to let go. God is always, ever, teaching me to let go and look to Him.

“Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:2-3 ESV)

For you . . . have . . . died . . .