Reflections on an Emptier Fuller Life

Seven years ago, today, we took our daughter and husband, with their two year-old and wee twelve week old, to the international departures at YVR, their earthly belongings packed into suitcases, ready for a “no known expiry date” adventure across the ocean. A country I was literally oblivious to until it became a destination . . . a place to call home for our precious cargo.

I read in my journal (dated November 1, 2004) …

It was with a sense of apprehension that I turned the calendar page this morning. The tears flow so easily and sometimes get triggered by the smallest things. Is it because at times like this, one appreciates the small things? Life is a wonderful experience of many small things . . . a walk in the park, a smile, a cry of delight, a shared meal, a note, a special song on the radio, a hug, a phone call, just “being together” . . .I was looking for a promise for “me” this week. I have this desire, Lord, to meet with you. To have You say “that all will be well” and feel a comfort that You alone can give. I’m rushing around trying to be ready to have some great family time in these next days, but I feel like I’m so concerned about having “things” ready that I neglect to prepare my heart. I so desire a heart at peace. I pray that You will fill me with your comfort and peace. Give me strength to go through this next week with grace and joy. Help me to fully and unreservedly enjoy the special moments, without the sadness that lingers over each event. In Revelations 21:4 it says “He will wipe every tear from their eyes…” I know that is for the future , but I pray that You will do this now too … replace my tears with the ability to say the right things and the ability to show forth your grace and strength … not my ability but a testimony to the love and care you provide in each situation.”

In the book I’m reading at the moment, One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp describes a personal tragedy that left her grieving and empty, claiming that she would have written the story differently. The mystery of why God allows certain things or leads in a certain direction is one that asks the question. Why? Why could it not have been another way? Someone told her the reality of just such a story, concluding with … “Maybe you do not want to change the story, because you don’t know what a different ending holds.”

Ann goes on to tell of the children of Israel feeding on manna … manna, meaning what is it? It was a mystery that they were eating on a daily basis. She writes, “I think of buried babies… a world pocked with pain and all the mysteries I have refused to let nourish me … I wonder if the rent in the canvas of our life backdrop, the losses that puncture our world . . . might actually become places to see. To see through to God.”

As I read this I remembered the tearing away I felt on that day, seven years ago. The hole in the canvas of my life. I imagined my life empty. . . and yet . . . I’ve seen what God has given. He did not take. He gave . . . love . . . unique and special.

The story I would have written would have been selfish. The story God wrote was one of expressing selfless love. I would have thought seven years too long. God knew it would refine us. It is a mystery of having given, yet feeling richer . . . as we joined in the adventure with our kids the only way we could, from far off. Now we are here… at the other end . . . with a coming home date. I can say it has been a good seven years. Not easy, but good.

I ask for faith to trust God to keep writing our story. He does it best.

November, 2004

Shaun and Kristal flew home from California to say farewell. This family photo was taken a few days before Chris and Julene's departure. I remember the photographer (Imagemakers) starting to set us up. He started with my H and me . . . and as he stood there thinking whom to call next... Tehya came and determinedly plopped herself on my lap. I noticed he looked a little surprised, but then decided it would work. In photos such as this, it is best to please the littlest ones... and the Grammy fighting tears.

When I was saying the Lord had given... I was not thinking of what I am going to say now. Numbers combined, there are seven kids and grandkids on this photo. If you were to do a re-count in just a few months you'd see seven added family members. Seven significant years. I stand amazed!