Note: December 14, 2001 was a bittersweet day for our family. That was the day we closed the door for the last time on our foreign home. Even now I have intense feelings as I think about the many people we met, the sights we saw, and the lessons God taught us. Outwardly, there are very few signs that we spent nearly two years in that part of the world. Inwardly, our hearts hold many reminders of what I can now call a precious time. And I just have to believe God’s promise that His Word will accomplish His purpose, and that the many prayers we and many others prayed on behalf of the people are still echoing in the corridors of heaven. Please do me a favor; please say a special prayer for the many lost souls God brought across our path and etched upon our hearts. May they one day become our brothers and sisters in Christ.
Here are some thoughts on our departure:
Dzenana was there. I saw tears in Niko’s eyes. Teta Neda cried. Tomi stopped by briefly, and Jasenko stayed long enough to drink the last of our American iced-tea and play a game of UNO. But where were the others? This was our last day – our last hours actually in this place. Over the last few weeks we’d had a few invitations for supper or coffee. A few people even gave us parting gifts that I will cherish forever. But at this moment I could only think of the many who didn’t come by; the many who declared, “I’ll come see you before you leave!” and didn’t. My heart hurt. I felt that I had failed. I mean, if I had not endeared myself to these people, then I must have done something wrong, right? If my message didn’t influence people and change lives enough for them to take time to come and say good-bye, then I must have erred along the way.
In my self-pity I even wondered if those who did express sorrow at our leaving might just be sorry that the American-novelties-who-spent-their-money-here were leaving. I was feeling a bit unloved by those I grew to love so much. It hurt.
I don’t know, and may never know, what lies in the hearts of “my” people in "Z". I’m sure there were some people who really cared about us and plenty who simply liked having “Americans” around. But God showed me that it doesn’t really matter. He spoke gently to my heart and said, “It’s not their love for you, but your love for them that really matters. You didn’t go to "Z" to be loved; you went to love with the love I have placed in your heart. And you did that. Our love for others hurts sometimes.”
As I jotted these thoughts in my journal my mind raced backward in time. As Jesus spent His last days on earth, His last hours actually on that fateful day, I wonder if He thought, “John’s here. My mother is crying as are some other women. But where are the others?” He could have questioned the love of those who called themselves His friends. But at that moment He wasn’t thinking about being loved, He was thinking about being Love; and it hurt a lot.
“This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins…we love because he first loved us.”
~ 1 John 4:10 & 19
Kind of puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?
Because of His love,
Drewe Llyn
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• Apr. 13, 2006 - Untitled Comment
I cannot tell you how this post has touched me. Thank you for giving me this to ponder on this day.
Gayle