There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

    … a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,   (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4)

    …a time to say goodbye…

The goodbyes started when I returned from CIT in early March. My first goodbye was my dear friend, Cecile, from Pennsylvania. She moved there many years ago with her husband and children, but we have stayed in touch over the years – usually meeting in Ohio for a video weekend a couple times a year. Linda, my BFF, Cecile and I – the Three Musketeers – have laughed, cried and talked our way through the years. Our last weekend was no exception – filled with all the good things of friendship and then the tears when it was time to say goodbye.

Then came some work days and goodbye to many of my belongings as I get ready to say goodbye to my house. My Wild Women small group helped one night; my family another.

 

 

 

 

 

After my family work day, eleven of my fourteen grandkids spent the night at my house – the First Great Meema Sleepover. Most I will see again before I leave, but Monday I watched my daughter Becky, her husband Brad and their three children, Megan, Scotty and Cassidy drive off. They live north of Detroit and there won’t be time for another trip to visit them.  Becky is expecting their fourth, another boy, in August. Goodbye to a baby I haven’t yet seen.

 

Next was Montana and goodbye to Jay, his wife Tommie and their girls, Dani and Andi. Now it is Katie in Colorado and another goodbye.

When I am back in Indiana, I will have 12 days and the goodbyes that have been a trickle will turn into an avalanche.

                      …and a time to say hello

But these goodbyes, though difficult, aren’t the end of the story. On the other side of these goodbyes come the hellos. Hello to Guatemala, a host family, my Kids Alive cohorts from CIT, my instructors at the Christian Spanish Academy and, of course, hello to Spanish.

 

 

Hello to the Dominican Republic, Jarabacoa, the Kids Alive team members and all the kids and families I will get to know there. Hello to a new world, a new way of living, new friends. Hello to so many things I can’t begin to think or imagine.

And, there will be a time when it will be hello again for those to whom I am now saying goodbye, and I will be richer for all that has happened in between.

 

But you will not leave in haste or go in flight; for the Lord will go before you, the God of Israel will be your rear guard.   (Isaiah 52:12)

This I know to be true…Amen and Amen.

I tucked my mother into bed tonight. She will be 90 years old on April 2. She is in reasonably good health for her age, although it is difficult for her to get out of her chair and walk very far. The last couple days she has been suffering from a bout with the flu. Some of my sisters and I took turns spending time with her today, just in case she needed some assistance. My turn was the last one for the day.


Mom - 2005

As the mother of ten children, I am very familiar with the tucking in bed process, but somehow it is different when it is your mother whom you are tucking in. Instead of masses of hair, smooth skin and chubby cheeks, it is wisps of white hair, skin that has been weathered by the years and paper-thin cheeks. Instead of one whose future stretches ahead of them full of adventure and the unknown, it is one whose past follows behind – a life well lived filled with memories. Yet, this tucking in is familiar because the one whose head lies on the pillow is as dear to me as any of my children, and my heart is filled with the same tenderness at the sight. As I turn to go home, I am struck with the realization that I am leaving the country for two years, and it is entirely possible that when I do I might not see my mother again in this life.

 

I do not doubt God’s calling for me to go to the Dominican Republic for two years. I am also certain this is His timing for me to go. He has confirmed this to me over and over again in so many ways. I do wonder, though, as some have asked, “How do you leave behind ten children and their spouses who are like children to you, fourteen grandchildren (fifteen in August), sisters, nieces, nephews, friends and...an elderly mother?”  

I wish I had an answer, but I don’t. I do not know how I will do this. What I do know is this – The one who has called me is faithful, and He will do it. (I Thess 5:24) I will trust Him, the God of Peace, with my children and grandchildren, my extended family and my friends and, yes, my mother. I know He will watch over them until I return.
 

The Green family at Anita & Colin's wedding - 9/21/2013

 

Reflections on my time at CIT

 

Several times since coming to CIT, I have said or written that I am “blessed” to be here – despite the hard work, the emotional and mental turmoil, the challenges to my values and beliefs – I am “blessed”. Today in reading another missionary’s post, I was challenged to consider just what I meant by blessed. At his suggestion let me take you to Jesus’ definition of blessed found in Matthew 5 and explain.

1 Now when he saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to Him, 2 And He began to teach them, saying:

3 Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

I am blessed because CIT has helped me realize just how impossible it will be for me to do anything in the Dominican Republic on my own strength and abilities. It is only through total dependence upon Jesus that God will be glorified during my time there.

4 Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

I am blessed because I now understand that it is okay to grieve for the people I am leaving behind, for the life that I have lived here and for the person I once was. Life here will go on. My grandkids will grow up, my children will move on, the town I live in will change. I will not be the same person when I return. But it will be okay. Who I am in Christ will not change (though my understanding of that will deepen and grow) and that’s what really matters.

5 Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

I am blessed because I have learned that everything I know is not enough. When I arrive in Guatemala for language school, I will know less than the toddler on the street. That is likely to be my position for quite some time. I will not know the language, the customs, the food, the means of transportation, or the rituals of daily life. A teachable spirit, a willingness to learn will be a great treasure.

6 Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.

I am blessed to be reminded that no matter where I am or what my circumstances, as long as the cry of my heart is to know Christ and the power of His resurrection, He will answer that cry.

7 Blessed are the merciful, for they shall be shown mercy.

I am blessed because I have learned not to be so quick to judge something as wrong just because it isn’t the way I have always done it. Not right…not wrong…just different. Yes, there are absolutes in scripture, but not nearly as many as I have often thought.

8 Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

I am blessed because my motives for entering the mission field and my attitudes towards those I am going to serve and work with have been challenged. Do I have the mind and heart of Christ? Am I looking only to glorify Him?

9 Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God.

I am blessed as I have spent days studying conflict resolution to understand how to work with people of different personalities, learning styles, values, culture and most of all gaining insight about myself because that is where peace must begin – within me.

 10 Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 11 Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. 12 Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

I am blessed to be challenged to lay it all down, even my very life, for the sake of Jesus. While I am not going to a mission field where it is likely my physical life will be threatened, I may very well be laughed at, ridiculed and mocked because I am different and don’t know how to live in their culture. But some in our group are going to countries where the situation will be more precarious, and I am privileged to pray for them.

This and so much more is what I have learned at CIT. My hope and prayer is that I will carry this with me throughout my time in the Dominican Republic and in the years that follow.

 

Community - a group of people with a common characteristic or interest living together within a larger society.

 

This is what we have been for the past four weeks here at CIT, Union Mills, North Carolina. We have been a community. We have laughed and cried, prayed and played, shared our food and our hearts. We have been overwhelmed with information that has challenged who we are, what we believe, the things we do... and been blessed to know that we are not alone.

 

Today that community as we know it comes to an end. It’s the last day of the Equipping module here at CIT. Three of the families and one individual will be leaving us, taking the next step on their journey –  whether back to fundraising or getting on a plane to leave for their host country or something else. Those of us who stay will miss them, but soon it will be time for our own next steps. While the miles may separate us, we will still be a community – a group of people with a common interest – being Jesus’ hands and feet in a hurting world.

 

Monday, we start again to build a community, to discover how this new combination of people with different backgrounds, personalities and gifts will come together. The topic is different – Second Language Acquisition Training, but our interest remains the same – to be Jesus to the world. I’m looking forward to meeting more people who have the heart of Jesus.

 

 

 

It rained this morning. I could hear the raindrops hitting the window and the drum of rain on the roof. If each drop represented one new idea or fact or concept that I have learned since coming to CIT, I’m not sure there would be enough of them – even though it rained steadily.

 

All my life I have been a person who categorizes things and organizes them in a systematic order. When I can’t remember things, I tell my kids that it’s because every year of my life I have added filing cabinets in my brain and filed things into folders in each drawer. If I don’t remember something immediately, I haven’t really forgotten it. I just don’t know which folder I put it in. As I get older, it takes me longer and longer to search through and find it because there are always more folders and more cabinets.

Over the years, I have been aware that some of the information I filed under certain categories probably didn’t really fit there and needed to be re-categorized and re-filed. But it was a slow process – one that I could take as long as I liked to do and if it didn’t get finished, maybe it didn’t really matter. Today, after my 8^th day of classes, I feel like the drawers of the filing cabinets in my brain have been torn open, folders have been pulled out and emptied onto the floor in a mishmash of ideas, thoughts, values, beliefs, feelings, truth, choices, preferences…..where once there was order, there is now chaos.

For some of you, this would not be a bad thing. You love chaos, disorder, change. For me, it is traumatic. How can I think all this through and put it all back in the right drawers? How much of what is written in those folders needs to be crossed out and rewritten? How will I know that I am rewriting it correctly? How will I ever find the time to clean up this mess?

Unable to face reading my assignments and adding more to the overwhelming clutter on the floor of my mind, I took a walk. The sun was shining. There was a refreshing breeze blowing. I went to a cemetery just down the road and respectfully sat on a tombstone. I looked at the blue sky, felt the warm sun, listened to the breeze rustling the branches of the trees and felt the peace of the moment sink into my spirit. As I sat, wondering how I was going to handle all the “stuff” that was in my brain, God spoke to my heart and said, “Let it be. Don’t organize it. Don’t try to figure it out. Just let it be.”

And so I will.



The sunrise lighting the trees behind CIT

I open my eyes. My window shows the light of day. I glance at the clock. It’s 7:20; I’ve actually slept for 10 hours. Gingerly, I bring my hand out of the cocoon of blankets in which I have snuggled throughout the night. Is the air as frigid as when I settled in? No, it doesn’t seem to be. Perhaps the heater has finally caught up with the unusually cold temperatures outside.



I look around the room and remind myself where I am and why. I am at the Center for Intercultural Training in Union Mills, North Carolina – the next step toward my 2-year mission trip to the Dominican Republic. It is a place where I will learn to live with people who are not like me, who do not have the same worldview, who do not process information the way that I do. As I think about this, I wonder, considering the diverse, small world we live in, why such things aren't taught beginning in elementary school and throughout the years that follow. How much trouble would be avoided if we understood that so much of what we consider “wrong” is simply “different.”

The Administration Building
where classes will be held.

My hope and prayer while I am here is that I will be open and willing, a sponge that can absorb all that is offered – not just the information but the heart and soul of this place. Hundreds of missionaries have been here before me. They have been different nationalities, personalities, lifestyles and education levels. They have all struggled and discovered things about themselves and other people. They have grown much and have left this place better equipped to serve and love and be “Jesus” to the world. It sends shivers down my spine to think that I can and will be one of them.

 

Rocking chairs on the porch - a good place to visit -

at least when the weather gets warmer!

 My room - brings back memories of college days.

 

A touch of home - calendar with family

photos, birthdays and anniversaries.

 

I’m sitting here in the predawn hours, enjoying the beauty of the lights on my Christmas tree and soaking in the strains of music by Yanni. It is peaceful and a good time to reflect.

One week from today, I will pass a milestone on my journey to the Dominican Republic. I will be in an airplane heading to Asheville, North Carolina for my training at CIT – four weeks of intercultural training and two weeks of second language acquisition training. While it is nothing like the change that will happen when I leave for Guatemala and then the DR, it is a change nevertheless and hopefully will provide a good transition to the changes yet to come.

I am grateful to all those who are partnering with me in this change of life. That partnering looks a little different for each person. For some it is financial, for others it is prayer, for still others it has been walking with me through this process offering encouragement and support. I thank God often for all of you.

As Yanni’s music soars and reaches a crescendo, I celebrate the milestones that have been reached. I have received 89% of my start-up costs. I also have pledges for 55% of my monthly support. When fundraising started in October, I never would have believed that I could have reached these percentages by this time.

While I have exceeded the percentage of start-up costs needed to leave for language school in Guatemala, I also need to have 100% of my monthly support pledged before I can take that step. If you are like me, the thought of making a monthly commitment for two years is a little scary. You might think of all the “what if’s” that can happen in that period of time. You might think that you don’t have enough to offer that will make a real difference. In thinking about the remaining 45% needed, I realized that I need 20-25 people who will step out in faith and pledge $10, $15, $20 or $25 a month. Would you prayerfully consider being one of those people? Would you join me in my journey and walk with me for the next two years?

An African proverb says, “If you want to travel fast….go alone. If you want to travel far…..go together.” I want to travel far – not just in miles, but in helping the children of the DR and in touching lives there with the reality of God’s love for them. Together, with you, we can make a difference.

Blessings!

Karen

P.S. Yes, my Christmas tree is still up and will probably stay that way until I leave for Guatemala. I do love gazing at the lights.