Today I realized how close we are to 2014. With 2014 comes the phrase “this year I will be going into the mission field” instead of “next year I will be going into the mission field”. Next year keeps the leaving at a safe distance and, frankly, I’ve been totally okay with that.
As the time creeps closer, I am becoming more aware of what I am giving up. Every time I am hugging one of my favorite kids or getting a call from a friend about nothing in particular. The fact that I can go down the street every Sunday and connect with a community of people that I love deeply. The ease of texting someone I love and trust when I’m having a tough time. The fact that I can do laundry when I need to, drink all the water I want without fear of explosive diarrhea in a bathroom forged in dirt and without toilet paper. The fact that I can get excited about the next season of Sherlock coming out and about seeing Saving Mr. Banks right when it hits the theater.
Some of those things may sound silly, but it’s honestly what scares me the most about leaving.
At least I’ll be escaping problems like these.
And then I watched the first Hobbit movie and had a perspective shift. Yes, I am one of those people whose life gets changed by good fiction as much as a good sermon. Anyway, there’s one particular scene where Bilbo is getting some flack from his companions about his commitment to their quest because he seemingly has nothing to gain from helping them take back their kingdom. His reply caused me to think:
“I know you doubt me, I know you always have, and you’re right. I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, and my arm chair, and my garden. See, that’s where I belong; that’s home, and that’s why I came cause you don’t have one.. a home. It was taken from you, but I will help you take it back if I can.”
And then peace came over me for a couple of reasons.
As someone who has moved 44 times, I have never particularly considered myself as having a “home” or a place that I “belong”. Apart from my mom and a few other immediate family members dispersed throughout the world, I didn’t really have connections to places. But for the past decade or so God has placed me in a community of people whose lives all converge at least once a week in a little building in Orange County. People whose kids I can hug without question or whose house I can crash at if I’m in trouble. A place where I can go for advice and wisdom and prayer without a second thought. And I thanked God for giving me a “Bag End” of my own.
And several little Bag-Enders to share it with.
Then I thought to myself, “okay, I’m allowed to miss my books and my people and my soft toilet paper. I’m allowed to miss home.”
Again, another thought occurred to me (I had to rewind some of the movie because I was lost in so much thought). How would I feel if my home was left in ruin and taken over by a giant dragon? How would I feel if the people I loved were hungry and scared and displaced; feeling alone.
Then I got the urge to fight. Like, literally, to fight for those people. I want to take down those dragons that are messing up people’s Bag Ends.
“I will cut you!”
Dragons of oppression, warfare, poverty and the feeling that nobody cares. I am but one silly person who loves the comfort and security of her home and her friends and her fiction, but I’ve been called on this adventure, equipped with Truth and a willing heart, to fight to take back Home for my fellow brothers and sisters around the world.
And that’s something to get excited about.
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Thank you all so much for all of the support and prayers- it makes this little hobbit feel about nine feet tall!
