June Fourteenth

My uncle Joe died yesterday. As did my adopted Grandmother.
Mandie asked how one can possibly leave one's family behind in times like this. It's part of the calling. Death and life, life and death... they are inextricably connected. Sometimes, you have to say goodbye before you go.

I spent the day with a former teammate, mostly talking about the things girls talk about when they get together. We talked through organizational stuff, shared frustration (women in the ministry, home and family positions, wondering why we fight over the positional aspect of who gets to tell people about Jesus, and why it is that if its an 'actual job' it's given to men). She just doesn't want to fight that battle. It makes sense to me - to walk through the doors where God gives you responsibility and calling, and not to worry about the rest. Our leaders have really struggled in our leaving. The region is constantly changing hands, and we all feel the end of the wand their waving.

In Germany they have to think as a region. Not every country has the make up of the UK. We are told that there will be five major people groups that we can work with here (we must be intentional): There are 750,000 of my people in London who do not know their right hand from their left.
We can, of course, make special requests within the context of the UK, since it is unique in its South and Central Asian make up. Still, that decision feels like the death of something. I called and talked to my old boss for a long time. She is eager to have a good friend back in the city. Most of the women on the team seem starved for adult female companionship. I suppose that I am often in that boat with them. I would move here just to serve them - it seems that serving those who serve has always been my thing.

We went to Southgate College. Most of my old students go there or were once enrolled there. It seems that so much could be done in that place, but the few who are willing to go are decades older than these kids. We picked up the children from school and made our way back to the house. We are good friends, Shauna and I. I wish I had seen it sooner, while I was still here. I could have invested so much more into our relationship with each other. I did not realize how much we have in common, how visionary we both seem to be, and how much she teaches me about how I need to grow. It is not bad to be dependent if you are leaning into God.

We said goodbye to Gwyn last night. We met up to see Mr. & Mrs. Smith, an old past time of watching movies and talking. We went back to her house so that she could give me gifts for my parents. Nana and Abu Granddad. I'd like to take her home with me as a present to them instead. Yet, I can only watch her from a distance. Keep several steps behind her in this walk in order to make sure she's still there. I must entrust her to someone else, and yet the pain of leaving is overwhelming. So encompassing that I feel nothing. What is the ministry? Nothing and everything all at once. So we dock on the shore and sit on the pier and drink tea, and then I set her adrift again to make her own way for a while. This is what I must do lest I hold on so tightly that she cannot grow.