Oh, Jesus…
I remember when I first started diving into the bible, I prayed for God to make me like Paul. I just wanted to do what he did. I wanted to preach the gospel, build up a church, and move on just to return again. Pour out wherever God took me and then do it all over again.
I remember reading Paul’s greetings to the churches in the New Testament that almost always begin with, “I long to see you,” “I thank God for you always,” “I have not stopped giving thanks for you,” or something of that nature. I always thought he was a being a little dramatic. But I think that for the first time, I get it.
This last month, I made a family. I met people that I call and consider brothers and sisters. They have changed me forever, and the thought of moving on makes me feel weak. How do you say goodbye when you’ve just begun to get to know them?
I know that I need to face this loss, so here is my heart:
I miss the church. My home. I miss the green walls and the white pillars. I miss the squashed spider on the wall that we killed our first week, which is almost definitely still there (RIP, spidey. It was not your time). I miss water seeping into our home every time it stormed and trying to padlock the front door with wet hands. I miss the roosters waking me up to say hello every hour of the night. I miss the neighbor. To have her sing me just one more song… The sound of community echoing with every clap.
I miss the view. I miss waking up and seeing a mountain in my backyard. I miss the shacks painted with the brightest yellows, greens, and blues. You all fought for attention, but in turn only complimented one another in a single harmonious burst of color. I miss the constant flow of Latino beats pumping through every speaker at night. There was something nice about going to sleep knowing that I was not the only one still awake.
I miss the community. I miss you, precious woman at the market. I ripped you off the first day we met because we couldn’t communicate, but I paid you back the next day and we’ve been buds ever since. I miss you other woman at the other market. You let me climb over the counter to point at popcorn kernels because we couldn’t understand each other, but you always left me blessed. I’ll miss you Francis. You showed up everywhere we were on your motorcycle and I still have no idea where you live. But you made it a point to seek me out, and you made me feel loved. I’ll miss you, elderly man that I sat with. We didn’t talk, but you gave me your seat to sit in your shade. The light of Jesus was evident in your smile. I’ll miss you random teenagers always asking if you could date one of my teammates. You’ll find a good girl someday… Just not today.
This is the woman from the market that i ripped off. She's an angel.
I miss you Dominican church service. We were together 4 days out of the week, but it was always an experience. I’ll miss the conviction in your voices as you spoke of what the Lord was doing in your life. I’ll miss your lack of pride and/or doubt in your hearts. You sang in front of the congregation, just you, whether you sounded good or not. I’ll miss the worship. I’ll miss the clapping. I’ll miss translating your prayers, my dear family. Never once did you pray without thanking the Lord for everything you could think of. That’s how it should be. You taught me that, brothers and sisters.
This is truly my favorite picture.
Of everything, I will miss you the most, family.
Fernandi (Guy sitting on the left in the orange)-You were with us more than anyone. You listen to music louder than anyone that I have ever met, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. You have no idea how loved you are, so I look forward to the day you meet your Father, as I know His love exceeds anything that I can offer you.
Noky’s Mom-You walk with a gentle power. A woman filled with God and grace that only Christ can offer. You work hard and expect no reward. My dear sweet sister, the first will be last and the last will be first and you will be rewarded greatly. You display servant hood better than anyone that I’ve ever met. I’ll miss your kitchen, but I’ll miss you more.
Enyer (Guy sitting in the black shirt)-You were the first one to try. We powered through our first half Spanish/half English conversation and I’ve considered you family ever since. You are a young man of God, and you should really consider being a pastor. Just saying. Knowing you gives me hope for the next generation of believers in Arroyo. I look forward to our next game of chess.
David and Ricardo-You two boys better behave yourselves when I’m gone! You bring the kingdom of God everywhere you go with your smile and supernatural joy. Grow up and know that Jesus will always provide. God has big things for you.
Albert and Abel-I wish I could have done more. Talked to you more. Walked with you more. Shared with you more. You have so much potential. You have so much going for you. I pray that you let Jesus in. He’s worth it, brothers. I will not forget our time. And thanks for doing our dishes.
Quiradis (Women sitting in the blue shirt)-You blow me away. I've never met a woman so dedicated to scripture, so dedicated to a life of outreach and sharing the gospel. We read each other scripture, we cooked each other meals, and we cried together as it was time to say goodbye. But you will not soon be forgotten.
Noky (Man standing in the red shirt and also in the picture below)-There are no words. Not tonight. I want to be able to bless you as much as you’ve blessed me, but that’s a task only big enough for God. You are the man of God that I want to be. But as I leave, I take you with me. The joy that you carry brings light to the darkness around you. I want that. You always say that tomorrow will be better, and when you say it, I believe it. You don’t let the cultural norms affect your mission. You believe the bible regardless of what the world is telling you. You are the leader that God has chosen for your town. You are a piece of the older brother that I never had. You are a man of God, and I am going to miss you more than you will ever know.
(This is Noky. This picture describes him perfectly)
I just had a lot going on this month in my heart. I said goodbye to my family in the states for a year. I’ve experienced a new family, built relationships that I intend to continue, and had to say goodbye within the span of 3 and a half weeks. And now I sit before you in Grand Guave, Haiti. A new scene, a new church, a new mission, a new family. I love it here, really. But I’m learning how to move on. And to imagine doing this for a year scares me to death.
I’m trying to learn to love with everything I have even though I know that my heart will be broken every month. I’m trying to learn how to move on. I don’t want to. I don’t want to forget the love that I feel right now, even though it hurts.
I want so badly to just say something awesome for you, reader. I want to tell you how God has taken this burden and that I’m fully ready to move on. But I write to you, family with a heart that’s still tender to the touch. God’s process is not simple. It involves getting hurt, getting messy, and allowing Him to heal you in time. If anyone ever told you following God was easy, they were lying! But good God, He is worth it.
Tonight, I am forced to put my hope in Jesus. In my weakness, His strength breaks forth, covering me from head to toe. God, just as I gave you my family in the states, I give you my family in Arroyo Cano. You love better than I could dream of. You comfort with words that my tongue can’t speak. You are God and you are so good. To know them and to hurt is far better than to have never known them. Thank you Jesus for my second family. Bring on month 2.
