His Peace Leads Us On

We’re going to leave in May.

We’re sensing that the Lord is calling us to transition back to the US this year.

I got a new job in the UK!

The hits kept coming that year. It felt like every time I saw a friend, they were telling me that they were going to leave. In a matter of months, my rich, tight-knit community would be cut in half—perhaps more. The devastation felt just below the surface at every moment. What would my life look like? What would it feel like?

Perhaps these questions are familiar to you. In the transient world of global workers, people are shifting around all the time. But some years hit harder than others, and this one was shaping up to be a doozy.

So, I began to fantasize about leaving too. Wouldn’t that be easiest? So many people were going, it would be nice to just make a group exit. 

Because my husband and I work for a relatively nontraditional agency, we don’t necessarily operate with the same prescribed “terms” and commitments that many global workers do. But early on, we felt the need for regular intervals of both commitment and reflection, so we instituted them for ourselves, roughly around every three years. It worked out that this same summer was a re-evaluation period for us. 

“It feels like everyone is leaving this summer. Are we supposed to go too? Should we? It would be convenient to just all go together.”

It was a terrifying question to say out loud but we needed to wrestle through it. We knew our support system would have to completely change. The very basic rhythms of our lives would be upended. Our kids would lose aunties and uncles who had been present since they were small. Could we get through it? Did we want to fight for (yet another) new normal?

We took some time to look around and reflect on where we were and where we were headed. After six years in-country, we were just beginning to feel like we were hitting our stride. Both of our ministries were thriving, with expansions and new opportunities on the horizon. We were hopeful about getting building permits to finally build our home that year. Our kids were doing well. 

As we wrestled with the reality of what the year would hold for us, and whether we, too, should leave, it became quickly clear—it just wasn’t our time. There was so much peace and goodness and growth where the Lord had placed us, and it was clear that it was right to stay and see it through. 

But the heartbreak was so real. Best friends would leave. Weekly taco nights, prayer groups, yearly vacations, Christmas mornings, colleagues, and ministry teams—all dismantled. What would life look like in this new season? I had so many questions, and so many fears.

Reflection, though, taught me to remember what it felt like when I went through other major life transitions. What was my guide? What did I hold to as an anchor when the seas seemed too rough to weather?

Peace. Waiting, ready for me to reach out and take it, was always peace.

The peace we felt when we chose to move to Rwanda was the same peace we felt as we asked whether it was time to leave. The peace to go became a peace to remain. Even when we knew things would get really hard. 

If you are in a season of pain, frustration, or potential transition, I see you. You have more questions than answers. You wonder where things are leading. You can’t see more than a half step ahead. 

It’s okay. I’ve been there. And I’ll likely be there again. We all will. These seasons are normal. But here are some things to consider as you move through:

Take time to remember your journey. What did it feel like when the Lord walked you through similar heavy or important seasons? What did good guidance and counsel look like? 

Look around and ask the Spirit to illuminate your current situation. Where is the Lord moving? Where is there health? Where is there disorder or lack that needs to be addressed? Consider using an Examen practice, if it’s helpful.

Chase the peace. Peace doesn’t always mean that moving through a situation will be easy. In fact, it often means that we’ll have to cling to that peace when things get really hard. But the peace remains an anchor in the storm, keeping us grounded and safe until we find calm waters again. 

Christ is our peace, friends. He is faithful to lead and guide us. I’m praying that the knowledge of this peace would sink deeply into your soul in this season. May you find him faithful to give you peace, in even the most trying of circumstances, to lead and guide you on.