Return from Babylon

We are going home. I guess I should rephrase to say we are returning home. "Going Home" for Christians has an entirely different - and eternal - meaning. But for us, it means the end of what Don and I have called our exile.

In the Old Testament, starting at 2 Kings, we see the Israelites sent packing by God out of their Land of Milk and Honey to set up camp as exiles in Babylon. While we in no way compare ourselves to these longsuffering - if stubborn and rebellious - people, the two of us struggled to describe our..."situation". We did not move back home. Maui has become our home. We certainly weren't on vacation. There are a lot more wayside adventures, amusement parks, and tourist traps on a vacation. It wasn't even our idea to come to the mainland at that time. Exile. Yup. And like the Israelites, we felt God's hand in all of it.

Like any difficult season, one is not the same as before the difficulties. Whether the changes are good or bad is largely up to the one enduring it. We have a little bit of bad, and (we pray), lots of good. Of the bad, most obvious is an increased....shall we say....thickness to Don and I. I am a foodie - love to cook, love to eat. Unfortunately, under stress I tend to use food for more than nutrition. On top of that, we are away from our favorite forms of exercise: walking the hills of Maui and snorkeling in her warm waters. This combo is not good. We intend to remedy that quickly.

The other bad thing isn't all bad. I feel a little residue of sadness, kind of an emotion scar, as it were. That's okay. I had a hard time coming to grips with that, since I should be over-the-moon happy, right? But just like the four inch scar I have on my leg reminds me NOT to enter rough, murky waters under which lava rocks lurk, this scar reminds me of the tenuous nature of my plans and the foolishness of thinking I can depend on those plans. This shadow also reminds me to never forget the sovereignty of Almighty God. I'm not saying I'm comfortable with this feeling, yet, but I understand its value.

The good stuff is that we absolutely have seen our marriage made so much stronger. We have seen a few ugly moments, but they were brief. For the most part, we feel a new appreciation for each other and a deeper companionship developed through this time. I have seen my husband's faith skyrocket - even as mine struggled, at times.

Another change I noticed in one of those "a-HA!" moments. I have read the book of James many, many times. I love it. Of course, the passage that begins at 1:2, with "Count it all joy, brethren, when you fall into various trials..." is not always met with enthusiasm by the reader (i.e. moi). I have not been in the least little bit joyful. But by reading further, James promises that these trials will lead to patience, and to let that patience have its "perfect work" in me. Later, in 4:13-16, James tell us to avoid saying what we are planning to do and just how much profit we will make and gee, aren't we wonderful. Okay. That last part I just sort of made up - but it's inferred. Anyway, James tells us to say rather that if GOD wills we will do - and fill in the blank with whatever you think your plans may be. It warns against the evil practice of boasting. It protects against the humiliation of looking like a fool when your plans fall apart. It clearly states who is in control of our lives, and to whom we should give the glory for any outcome. God is sovereign.

I finally, finally get it. I have developed a patience for waiting which is only possible because of this. I misinterpreted it, at first, as a strange lack of excitement on my part about going home. I have been known to get all in a tizzy knowing I'm going to Cool Cat for lunch or get my hair done, so this was troubling. But (a-ha!), I am waiting on God to tell me. I am waiting on God to show me. I am becoming patient. Not perfect, but patient. And this patience does not look at all like I thought it would. I do not have a sappy smile plastered on my face all the time. Smiling may not be appropriate. Persevering is hard. Refining hurts. One does not persevere through a day at the spa. A five-layer chocolate torte is in no way a trial or refining fire. Tough times are tough times. Period. And I find that I am done apologizing for not having a perky outlook when things are hard. That's just phony - and more than a little annoying. But, I have also found a deeper meaning of "joy". I have always known that joy is a deep abiding feeling that exists despite conditions, where happiness is always conditional. Thanks, Brother James. I get it!

But I am happy. We leave for Maui on Tuesday, September 13, 2011 - five months to the day of leaving our island home to our exile in Babylon. Though it may not have been our idea, we are so glad that God did what he did. We attended weddings, our son's graduation, a marriage retreat, saw the Grand Canyon, had another crazy road trip up here to Portland, during which we caught up with Cousins Judy and Pam and their respective families, and saw our dear friends, the Bradleys. We made a few new friends during these months. We also reveled in the energy and beauty of our two grandchildren, met our new great-niece, Avery, and hung out with Greg's new girlfriend (the lovely Sarah!). I doubt that the Israelites had it so good.

We are both so very, very happy to be returning home. We are so happy that, once again, God said "yes."