Go Tell It On The Mountain....

Well, Christmas is over, and for us POM's it usually is a hard time. 

For some of us, our kids are on the other side of the world, and we missed the holiday time with them. I'm sure we all shed a few tears. 

For some who were fortunate to have their family with them, they are trying to stuff every memory they can into this holiday. It's these memories that will keep them going next year. 

I thought often of last year this year. I looked at many of my Christmas photo's from last year, they made me smile. They made me thankful. They made me cry. 

For me, focusing on the spiritual aspect of my kids lives always helps me because the emotional reality can be so overwhelming, and even though I recognize the feelings and feel them,  I try not to dwell on them. 

This year the song, Go Tell It On the Mountain, kept coming to my mind.  It's not one of my favorites, but how appropriate as I prayed for my children this Christmas Day and thought about their work. 

refrain  

Go, tell it on the mountain, 

Over the hills and everywhere  

Go, tell it on the mountain

That Jesus Christ is born.

Oh Zion, that brings good tidings, 

get thee up into the high mountain;

O Jerusalem, that brings good tidings, 

lift up thy voice with strength; 

lift it up, be not afraid ; 

say unto the cities of Judah, 

BEHOLD YOUR GOD!!! 

Isaiah 40:9 

Oh Lord Jesus, 

I ask that the world would know You; 

on the mountains or in the valleys

wherever our missionary children are serving,that

those they work with would see and hear, and

understand the truth of the unsearchable riches 

of Jesus Christ our Lord. 

We humbly praise You and thank you for allowing 

our children to serve you in this way, and we 

thank you for the lives you have given us as

their parents. 

saying goodbye is hard to do....

The kids are back in Vanuatu, they only lost their new camera and one bag in the process. I'm not kidding. I'm going to call LAX TSA tomorrow, I wonder how far that will get me?
Course God knows where that camera is so I guess we will see, and we are praying the bag will show up.

I thought I'd write about my process of saying goodbye as a parent of a missionary. Some goodbyes are so painful . The first time I experienced this kind of goodbye was when we were in the military.
It seemed like we would make a friend and in a short time they would get stationed somewhere else, and move on.
They would be sorely missed in our little military community, but we all knew that this was part of the process.

The next time I experienced real loss that was painful and final was when my husbands parents were killed in an automobile accident. I was young, the finality of the situation, and my lack of control was what God used to bring me to salvation. I knew that if I was to ever loose one of my children or my husband that I needed more than just myself to handle it. Jesus showed me that He wanted to fill that void. He would help me handle it.

When my best friend died of cancer I felt that painful loss. The last thing I wanted to do was go to her funeral. Instead I wanted to grieve the loss by myself. I wanted to say goodbye my own way. I went because I knew she would want me too, but I didn't like it.

It is usually this kind of pain that I experience when my missionary family leaves, and it takes me a few days if not weeks to process it,
The pain is deep and I know now that it is grief that I'm feeling. It has helped me to know that's what it is.

It is harder this time because this was the longest furlough we have had together, and we made some good memories. Since the grand kids are older we established deeper bonds.

Besides grief I always have mixed feelings about them leaving. Those bittersweet emotions. On one hand I'm happy they are missionaries and serving God, but I'm sad they are there and not here. I'm sad they have so many hardships, and obstacles to deal with. I used to feel guilty but I've come to recognize that these feelings are just part of living the life of a POM. Besides if I was just happy about my family being missionaries I wouldn't have to seek out God and his comfort or the shelter of His Wings for my sadness and grief.

There are a few things that I do that help me to get through this time. I always spend more time in prayer. I know that God cares about my sorrow and tears. I also know that God is with them. I'm not capable of meeting their needs, but God is and He does. We share the same God, He understands and answers prayer.

I try and do things that will make me feel better. I eat better, exercise more, and get more rest. I will feel worse if I get sick,

I find myself doing little things that make me feel closer to them.

Yesterday I hung the kids art pictures on my bedroom wall.

I found myself buying finger bananas in the grocery. They reminded me of Vanuatu.

I was erasing text messages this morning and I left Erik's on the phone. I will leave them for a while.

I'm already preparing a box of things to send. Things they forget to take or need.

Writing on my blog or in my journal gives me a place to express my feelings and if I feel like crying I do it.

Am I proud to be a missionary parent?

YES.

Does it hurt when they leave for the field?

YES. But now I know there are things I can do to make the process a bit easier.

P.S. they got their bag back yesterday...now if I could just get the TSA to answer the phone or call me back:)

A Bittersweet Dichotomy...

Denise left a comment on my last entry that I had to agree with. She said that she had just read
a statement that said,"Parents cry when their kids are doing great things," and that our
children are doing great things for God.
So true for us POMS and this situation gives an illustration of this statement.
In the same e-mail that Michele told me about Joel she also told me that the people were responding positively to the Acts movie in their own language.
Praise God....
I found myself thanking God with joy, and praying for the people who are watching
while in the same sitting crying and praying over my adorable, precious , loving grandson who has worms.
What a bittersweet dichotomy.
In order to accept it I have to leave my feelings with a powerful loving God
These are his people both my missionary family and the Ni Vanuatu that they serve.