Journeying Together

I don’t think I’ll ever be old enough to say goodbye to my mom without crying.

The first time I headed overseas, I was only twenty-two. My mom slipped a letter into my pocket to read on the plane.

After a traumatic experience of almost missing my flight, I settled into my seat on the plane next
to the window and opened the letter as we waited on the tarmac for takeoff. I quickly became a
snotting mess, and the year apart from my mom set in as I read her heartfelt words about
launching me into God’s call on my life. That goodbye never seems to get any easier, and I am
a river every time.

The word “family” holds new definition after years of overseas life. The term is not reserved any
longer for blood relatives, as precious as they are to me still, but it is bigger than that now:
friends who help fill the holes of siblings, parents, aunts, and uncles, kids of other workers that
become nieces and nephews, and the forever bond formed between people who have lived in
the same place as you.

Yet, family also cannot be separated from “goodbye” any more, or from words like “grief” and
“loss.” The longer I’ve lived overseas, the more I’ve asked the question, “How many times can I
let people into my heart only to have to say goodbye?”

In my expat heart, heaven is the place where we no longer have to say goodbye.

The disciples said goodbye to everything to follow Jesus. Reading through the gospels, we see
them drop everything and begin to walk with him. I’m sure they, too, felt the ache as they were
out on the road doing ministry with Jesus.

“Then Peter spoke up, ‘We have left everything to follow you!’

‘Truly I tell you,’ Jesus replied, ‘no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or
father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in
this present age: homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields—along with
persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the
last first.’” (Mark 10:28–31 NIV)

I remember being homesick one of those first few years and coming across this passage in my
quiet time. He who calls will provide.

Moving abroad initially, I didn’t know anyone. When I arrived at the pre-field orientation on a hot
summer Mississippi day, I sat in my little red car, after having just done the ten-hour drive sans
air conditioning, feeling frozen.

In the process of deciding to move overseas, I had felt so much peace. But now, just footsteps
away from meeting those who would journey with me, anxiety welled up in my veins. What if I
don’t make any friends? Can I really move halfway across the world by myself?

I willed myself to go inside. Before even reaching the door, I had already met two of the people
who would be going with me. And if I had known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have had any
anxieties about belonging. Those friends would become my surrogate overseas family.

Over the years and many cups of coffee, I have found family in the communities God has
provided for me. We have spent many holidays together, some because of quarantines and
being stuck together and others just simply because that’s what you do when you’re family. I’ve
been welcomed into others homes to celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas. I’ve visited those
who have moved away and felt the warmth that comes with being known by people you love. To
me, this new family is reminiscent of heaven.

In this season, those I call family are spread across continents and multitudes of time
zones. I’ve discovered that family really just means “those who are meant to journey with you.” It
is the journey that joins us all together, the journey with one another to follow a God who
calls us to leave and stay all at once. We celebrate together; we weep together. We pray with
one another. We witness the milestones.

In the gospel of John, as Jesus is being crucified, we see his heart for family as his own family grieves what is happening.

“Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and
Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing
nearby, he said to her, ‘Woman, here is your son,’ and to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’
From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.” (John 19:25–27, NIV)

As I shed tears over goodbyes, I sense the same kindness, care, and provision from Jesus.
“Here is your sister,” he says. “Here is your brother.”

The question becomes, then, if I trust that God will provide once again, as those who have
become family move to all corners of creation. If he has provided every time before, why would
he stop?

I am currently pregnant with our first, and there are moments I feel that acute ache of longing for
family to be close. Baby showers, my pregnant belly, and all those milestones to come loom in
my mind as I wish for my parents, siblings, and close friends to be here to witness them. I told two of my friends here in our host country how special it is to me that they get to be the friends who share this season with me. They will always be the ones who were with me while I was pregnant and started my journey as a mother.

Something deep in me longs for consistency, people who know me in all seasons. I know that
will not exist in human form on this earth, but I also know that there is someone who is
consistent and has known me in every season: Jesus. He has seen me grow and change,
witnessed all the milestones, and will continue to be present in my everyday no matter where I
am on the map.

Who has God provided for you to journey with during this season? In what ways has the definition of
family changed for you over time? How have you seen God’s faithfulness in the provision of
family?