April 4th

It was just another day. I got up at 5:30 am, got ready for the day and grabbed a handful of change before I dashed out the door. I flagged down  a motor cycle which would take me to the trail leading to the village. As we sped along the country roads I inhaled deeply the crisp clean smell of the rice patties with a hint of motor cycle fumes. The sun was rising over the hill making the ripe fields glow a brilliant golden hue. I shouted out to the driver and handed him the change and then hopped off the back of his bike.  I walked on the trail that led right through the rice patties till I reached  a much smaller path leading up through the jungle to the tribe. I stopped at a small store to grab a bag of bread for my students to eat for breakfast. As I entered the village the children began to meander out of their little huts to walk with me up to our school on the hill. My morning was just like any other. My nine students ate breakfast than we read another chapter of a Charles Dickens book. We spent the rest of our mornings doing regular class activities. We heard the clanging of an old air tank which served as a lunch bell. Hand in hand with my students I wandered down to the small hut where their food was prepared and then joined them in eating a bowl of hot rice and fish. Shortly after lunch I said goodbye and headed back home. When I walked in the door I saw my mother sitting in open room that served as a kitchen, dining room and living room, she was on the computer, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She was covering her face so I didn't notice the tears. I saw our friend Min standing at the counter chopping something. That was when I noticed something was off. I could see on Min's face that something was terribly wrong. I gave her a look of confusion which she replied with by pointing with her lips to my mother and then running her finger down her cheek. My mother was crying.
"Bakit iiyak siya?"( Why is she crying?) I asked her in her native tongue so that my mother would not understand.
"Hindi ko alam! May imporantang email. Iyon ay lahat ko alam" (I don't know she had an important email. That's all I know.) I approached the table that sat in the center of the room. I let my weight rest against it and my backpack slip off my shoulder. I knew that things had been bad recently, a million scenarios ran through my head. I waited a moment to let myself regain composer before confronting my mother. I stood watching Min chop away, her fingers moving so swiftly. Finally I let myself turn to face my mother.
"Mom, what's wrong?" I said cautiously. She lifted her head and looked me in the eyes. She looked so hurt, angry and heartbroken.
"We have to leave." she said.
Leave! What! I knew that things had been tense but I never would have thought it was that bad.
"Wait what do you mean by that?" I prayed that my mother was over exaggerating. But she wasn't.
"We have to leave in the next two weeks." She went on to explain in detail what the email had said but I barely heard her. My heart had stopped beating and my throat grew tight. Anger, fear, sadness, all of those emotions surged through my mind and heart all at the same time. After she finished talking I muttered some kind of response which to this day I can't remember exactly what it was, then I took off out the door. I ran to the backyard which happened to be the beach. I looked out across the water to a small  island that was just lay off the coast of our much bigger island. I was stunned, my mind was reeling, I did the only thing I could functionally do at the time, let my eyes scan my surroundings.  After a moment I tried to walk, but I couldn't seem to steady myself, it was as if I had been punched in the gut, and I felt like it too. I stood in perfect silence. Alone on the beach.

 I watched as the waves gently crashed against brown sand, then with a sudden burst of energy I stormed down the beach like I was on a mission but I didn't know where I was going. Suddenly I kicked a half a coconut shell that was lying on the beach, I plopped down on the sand and the tears began to pour down my cheeks, hot and angry tears. I looked at the white foam as it receded and then was pushed back up on to the beach by the next wave.
Why? I said finally able to speak to God. I stared at the clouds that glided across the bright blue sky. This is not fair! You know what happened. You know that we did our best and we only wanted to serve you! So why did you let this happen? Why didn't you stop them? I felt as if my air way was being constricted and my body was wasting away. I heard the giggles of my younger brothers as they ran from our house to the beach, stumbling and giggling as they ran across the soft sand. Mark approached me, as he looked into my face is usual cheeky grin faded as he realized that I visibly upset.  My youngest brother Matthew caught up to him squealing with joy. I looked down at them and tried to control my emotions.
"What's wrong?" Mark finally asked . He was such a sweet 5 year old, sometimes much wiser than his years.
"Nothing. Mommy will tell you later." I said grabbing a hold of his hand. I scooped Matthew up in my arms, he was heavy for a 2 year old, and I kissed his head. "Come on let's go home."

The days that followed were full with much tears, anxiety and pain. We struggled to tie up as many loose ends as we could, sell furniture, packing our suit cases and book tickets. That last night on the island many of our friends from the tribe came to our house and a few stayed the night. As those who didn't stay left we stood in silence embracing one another for a long time. With tears we bid them goodbye as they walked off into the darkness leaving us standing on our porch crying. The next morning was a solemn time. We packed our suit cases into a van and then bid goodbye to the dear ones that had stayed with us. I tried hard to make them fast goodbyes with the fear that if I held on too long I might never be able to let go. With our last hugs done and our last kisses placed we packed into the van and it pulled away. I looked back as our house vanished from my sight, never again would I ride up to our little leaf roof house. Never again would I watch my younger brother splash in the water on our beach nor would I sit on my bed with my windows open doing homework and listening to the sounds of the crashing waves. As the van passed the trail leading up to the village I gazed up on the mountain. I could see the little blue church that I had spent so many hours in and the silver roof of my little school house where I had both taught the children and learned from them all that there was to know about being part of the tribe. A million memories flashed before my eyes as we went around the bend and the village disappeared behind the trees. I held my backpack tight against my chest. I wondered what was next. What purpose could my life possibly serve now? Would I ever find a life that brought me as much joy as this one had? Will I ever love a people as much as I loved those sweet dark skinned people from our village?

 The next 2 weeks is a blur. Our family took a long boat ride to the city, spent three days doing paperwork for exit visas and then jumped on a plane back to the states. Once we reached the states we all packed into a new van and drove all the way from the west coast to the east coast where we lived. My parents had decided after our time overseas it might be better that we not fly directly home but take our time on the road to readjust and heal before we had to face all our friends and explain why we were home. We knew that we could never give all the details, no one would ever truly understand what happened and there would be forever a piece of closure we could never truly have. That is the nature of pain. No matter how much you heal there will always be that scar which will forever remind you of that pain. It might not hurt anymore but there is a scar.

At some point I found myself saying things to God that no person should ever say. "That's it we are through! I trusted you with everything, I was joyful and willing to move my life to another country and you let this happen!" The pain was doing all the talking and my trust bad been broken. For a short time I meant it too, for a short time I wanted nothing to do with God. My bitterness did not last, soon after our return I stood in the greenhouse where I was working watering flowers and thinking deep thoughts. It was there in that little greenhouse that God won my heart back. I was still mourning, at least once a week I would break down into tears and wonder why the Lord would allow so much pain in my life. In those days He placed wonderful encouragers who came along side me and constantly reminded me that I served a faithful and loving God. Yes there was pain in the world, yes there was injustice, but those were not simply careless acts of a inconsiderate god!

My conclusion is as follows:
One year ago my life was torn apart and everything was changed. Tragedy struck my family and I can never undo that experience.

But you know what...even if I could go back and change all the circumstances so that it never happened, so that the ending was a happy one, I wouldn't change a thing! Not even one!

Why?

 Because God was working. God was working in the lies and the deceit. God was working in the laughter and the joy. God was working when we had to leave, God was working as we traveled home.

God was not just letting things happen. He was not just sitting idly as we mourned the loss and bled from the wounds.

He was active.

He brought us home because that was what needed to happen in His divine plan for our lives. He let it be a painful experience because He needed us to learn what it felt like to lose and learn how to find our healing in Him.

There is nothing better for me than what happened. "How could you possibly think that?"

 Because I trust Him. I cannot fully grasp what the entire purpose was for my pain. I don't understand what His future for me is, I don't even really have an educated guess but I know that it will be wonderful because He is the Most High, Almighty, Adonai, Lord of Hosts and He has the right to do whatever He wants in my life!

Does He have the right in yours?