The time has come to pack our bags and say goodbye to the place we have called home for the last two years. We came with no experience, not knowing what to expect, but willing to learn and grow and see what God was doing in Peru. The time has flown and we understand clearly now why it is advised you spend at least 2 years in the place you choose to serve.
Katie and I were “sent off” by the Central and Cedar Lane churches a little over seven months ago. We loved getting to spend the summer with these two churches so goodbyes were hard. But we said goodbye knowing we were headed to the place for which we had been preparing for years. In January and in April of this year, the house churches in Arequipa had their own two send-off Sundays.
Last year, at the end of January, Jake and I visited Peru. The first day we were here we went to the beach for celebration Sunday with the church. It was a fun day but we didn’t really know anyone and couldn’t go much further than “Hello. What is your name? How are you?” This year we started planning the annual beach trip at the beginning of January. I was so excited!
One of my favorite movies of all time is Fiddler on the Roof. It’s a story of a Jewish man named Tevye and his family in a small, turn-of-the-century Russian village. It’s cheesy and it’s a musical, but the reason I like it is that Tevye’s whole life revolves around God. He’s a peasant milkman, not a rabbi or a priest, but every facet of his life is shaped by his relationship with God, with whom he’s constantly talking. I want to be like Tevye.
The time has come. This is my last Team Arequipa newsletter article. I was listening to “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” the other day while washing dishes. The weirdest feeling came over me. I remember bawling through that song our first Christmas here, because I missed my home and family so much. I know that many of my new teammates will be experiencing this same emotion this Christmas. But this seventh Christmas in Perú, the sentiment is different. Arequipa has become our home, and we are about to say goodbye to all things familiar to us here. The song causes me to bawl my eyes out but not in the same way.
The four new families that are part of Team Arequipa are not our replacements. They are the next wave crashing toward the shore as our wave begins the slow fade back into the ocean. For a little while, you can’t tell that both are happening, but standing in that water reveals the push and pull occurring simultaneously. Their effect will be similar, but new. They are a blessing to our team, our church, and the city of Arequipa.
We bought our tickets this month.
While Meg has been ramping up emotionally for a while, I am postponing a lot of those feelings for nearer to our departure. But setting an official leave date was a significant moment. We will arrive in the US on January 12th, 2015. In just under five months, our family will leave home to return home.
I have a lot to work through—feelings that are at odds with what I think I’m supposed to think. Stuff related to my motives for coming to Peru in the first place, including my relationship with God, dreams, ambitions, and various factors of rather uneven spiritual value. Disappointments and lessons learned. Joys and sorrows. Just life, I guess, but it was life here. Anyway, my plan is to blog through these, hopefully regularly until our departure.
Right now, my primary thought is, “Sprint to the end.” I want to finish well. But it’s hard to know what that means. On one hand, it is remaining faithful in the everyday work despite feeling like mine is a contribution with an expiration date. My input becomes increasingly less relevant to long-term decisions. The window for unmet goals shrinks to a matter of months and feels impossible. The hope of correcting past failures withers. “Sprint to the end” in this sense is not the thought of the accomplished athlete finishing with discipline but of the guy who is still running the race after everyone else has already crossed the finish line, wondering what would be the point of the extra effort. On the other hand, it is doing well the things that this new phase requires. It’s time to do transition work again. So we’re starting on our RAFT, a device many expatriates have used to make a good exit and return. It entails:
This is a big part of our work now, and just coming to terms with that fact is really hard. But it’s time.
