what it takes

The days have started to get long and there are moments that I question my ability to get my little boy through this. He needs is daddy. 

Sure, he may need more sleep or he may need more of this or that, but truthfully--the kid needs his dad.

He doesn't articulate it like that of course, but as a mama, you know when your baby is just downright sad. He is definitely sad.  

My husband has been away over seas building a church in the heart of the jungle. When he looked me in the face and said, "Baby, this is what God has for me...what He has for us" I knew this was the right choice. It is not that he is not safe, it is just hard to say good bye. I was the one to go two years ago and prayed over this very spot of jungle bush and asked God to bless this place and erect His church to reach three indigenous tribes with the Gospel. Freedom they so desperately needed.  Light when all they knew was darkness and evil oppression. Hope when they had none. 

Six months later, by no small miracle, the land was purchased and the clearing process began. 

Six months later, a temporary structure was 'complete' and sixty school children moved to their new location. 

Six months later, the building began. Six months after that, my husband responded in obedience, packed his work boots and some Gatorade, boarded a plane and crossed the Atlantic to stand where I stood two years ago. 

That was ten days ago. 

He was supposed to be home today but...

Hurricane Sandy landed on the east coast instead of the man we all miss like crazy. 

So...we continue to wait. 

During this time of separation, my heart has been aching--not for my own temporary loss, but for the not-temporary losses of dear friends who really know the ache of loneliness and for the military men and women that endure months apart for the sake of our freedom. I have wept tears of empathy for a dear, sweet woman living life as a widow. My heart has spent hours in prayer for her, and even more this week as I have a minuscule understanding of the separation she endures every day. 

As I look at my life I see how God is so faithful and yet I am such an Israelite sometimes. 

He parts the Red Sea and drowns the enemy. They barely reach the other side and they are already doubting God's faithfulness. Blessing falls from the sky--literally--and they complain about what they do not have. 

I am so willing to accept blessing from God and yet I respond with clenched fists when hurricanes hit and reunions are delayed. 

Truth is, my faith is nothing if I only I rejoice and give thanks when the sky is blue and the sun is shining. As my heart is sad for my little ones that miss daddy, we have given thanks for the daddy we have, the memories we have, and the reunion we have to look forward to. 

We give thanks that He is faithful even in the storm--literally and figuratively. 

We give thanks because they are times like these that our hearts catch a glimpse of the pain that others live with, and cause our own hearts to pause and pray and send a simple note of encouragement. 

As much as my boy needs his daddy, we need hearts of gratitude and empathy. 

Sometimes, it takes a church in the jungle and a hurricane on the coast to produce that.

I'll take it. 

<><tce