Time.
Man, does time have a mind of its own.
Sometimes it just s-l-o-w-s down to the pace of a geriatric turtle moseying along on a sunny Sunday afternoon stroll.
Other times it's as fast as a speeding bullet slicing through green lime jello.
That was a very strange analogy. Don't really know where that thought came from! However, it is applicable.
On December 15, Nick and Ben arrived in Taiwan. January 23 seemed so far away. But, evil time gremlins sped up the hands of my clock.
Before I knew it, they were saying their last goodbyes, packing up their bags, and heading out the door.
Next time I see Nick, he will be a college graduate. Neither he or Ben have solidified their summer plans, so whether I will see them this summer is unknown.
(Sigh)
In case you wondered, this is the hardest part, in my opinion, of being a missionary.
That was Tuesday morning.
But, my recent rash of goodbyes wasn't over.
Early, very early, the next morning, the above scene repeated itself. This time it was the husband.
Early Monday afternoon, Carl received one of those messages that everyone hates to get. His father, who celebrated his 98th birthday January 3 in the hospital with the flu, had taken a turn for the worse. Carl started looking at flights back to Ohio. A phone call later that afternoon confirmed it was time to buy the ticket.
Unfortunately, five minutes before leaving Wednesday morning, a call shared the passing of his dad. No time to mourn. He had a bus to catch for the airport.
It really stinks to be so far away when someone you love takes their final breath.
I trudged through the week carrying the three short term goodbyes, as well as theres-a-hole-in-my- heart goodbye.
But, even then, God found a way to lighten my grief soaked heart.
It came in the form of laughter- the laughter of my students.
Last week was Spiritual Life Week for Morrison Elementary and Middle Schools. Our speaker used both magic and ventriloquism as vehicles to spiritual truth. And, I might add, lots of silly, knee slapping humor.
It was hard to be too gloomy as I sat between two second grade boys giggling nonstop. Their laughter was unmanufactured, unrestrained joy.
Naturally the sadness remains, but even amongst the grief, God's joy overcomes.
