My heart feels so many things; sadness, turmoil over all the change, trepidation at the future, excitement for the future, pride in our kids, you name it and I'm probably feeling it to some degree. But my overarching emotion is an incredible awe and gratefulness to God.
Most of you know our story - Pat and I are farm/small town kids from Iowa. Naive, never traveled outside of the U.S. (okay, one summer our family drove to Canada for vacation......), Pat had never even been on an airplane before and when we were in our early 20's we took off for what was then Zaire for a 2-year missionary associate assignment. During that time we had several friends who were our age, but who had grown up as MK's (missionary kids). We were in such awe of them - they were SO COOL. They spoke other languages with such ease, they navigated international travel and cultures effortlessly and they had great stories. Several of them talked about the fun they had while attending boarding school during their high school years. Pat and I would talk and say how we wanted our kids to grow up like that. Boarding school would be great for them - goodness, look how our friends turned out! We were going to be such cool and laid back parents.
Fast forward to several years later.....January 10th, 1991.....Ben was born and placed in my arms. Wow, my heart has never been the same. Being a parent is utterly overwhelming. I remember looking at Pat, bursting into tears and saying " I WILL NOT send him to boarding school!!" Now this is NOT a commentary on boarding school. It's just our story of kids, love, this incredible call of God on our lives, and our struggles as we try to be obedient.
I remember when we flew back into Zaire for the second time - this time instead of a young married couple we were career missionaries and a family of 5. The flight from Nairobi, Kenya to Isiro, Zaire was interesting. We flew on a missionary plane and with each stop for fuel the terrain became more rugged, less inhabited, and the "airports" smaller and more run down. Ben was 4 1/2, Abigail was 22 months and Emily was 7 weeks old, having just been born in Nairobi. Suddenly the "coolness" of raising kids overseas paled in comparison to the utter FEAR that I was feeling. What was I doing??? Why was I taking 3 small children into this isolated place? On our flight was an older, American missionary couple. They had raised their children in Northern Zaire and now their children were grown and raising their grandchildren there. However this was a heartbreaking trip for them. Their 7 year old granddaughter had just died from malaria. The poor grandmother was understandably heartbroken. She was seated next to me and she cried and talked about how her granddaughter died. My heart hurt for her as I listened.....but I also felt terrified at her story, as I held baby Emily in my lap. Throughout the years I have had many, many moments of fear. Malaria, civil unrest, government meltdowns, and random acts of violence have occupied the timeline of our years in Africa. And I worried....I have worried so much for my kids - I worried about their safety, I worried about their spiritual and emotional health, I worried about their social life, I worried about the fact that they didn't have all the "normal" experiences that Pat and I had growing up in small town Iowa.
Honestly - truth be told, I am a worrier. My mom was a worrier before that and I have one child in particular (who will go unnamed) who is a worrier......as Pat says - I come from a long line of worriers. At one point I memorized several verses of Psalm 37.....which ended with "do not fret, it only leads to evil". Yes, I am a fretter! But through all the fear and worry and fretting....that quiet, gentle voice of God always reminded me that we were called to do what we were doing. That He was God and nothing was going to happen to our family that wasn't in His plan, and that, believe it or not, He loved my kids even more than Pat and I.
I will be honest - being a missionary, raising kids overseas, living in undeveloped countries that are full of disease and unrest - it's not easy. I had a friend who, when she realized how much worry and fear I dealt with, was amazed. She said "I always thought that missionaries were never afraid - that the call of God on their lives just covered all of that up" (insert hysterical laughter here!). I think that mom's (and dad's) all over the world deal with worry and fear for their kids.
But now.....now it's over! Not being a parent! I will always be a mom. And, honestly, I will always struggle over worrying about my kids. But today, I stand in amazement. WE DID IT!!! Or, really I should say "GOD DID IT"!! We raised our kids in Africa. On Saturday we will get on an airplane and take our final child back to the United States for college. I think back over all the years - fear, worry, fun, ministry, so many times of packing up and moving, languages, adventures.......and now this chapter in our lives comes to a close. Tearful? Of course! But my overriding emotion is one of incredible gratefulness. Our kids have not had perfect lives - and their years growing up in Africa have not been all fun and games. There has been loneliness, temptation, and fear for them as well. But all 3 of them have adamantly said that they absolutely love their upbringing. They are very grateful to have had the childhood of an MK. Following God......it's definitely not always the easy road and it can be a road that is full of twists and turns. But in the end (and this is not THE end.....but it is AN end) all He asks for is obedience, and He'll take care of the rest. He even takes care of the children of a worrying mom.
