some friends leave this friday. last night, sitting in a circle, we spoke of security and code words in emails. "you may want to disable comments on facebook," someone said and it was just all a little too surreal for me.
over the past year, i've purposefully put them leaving out of my mind. i knew it was coming, was blessed by it coming, but didn't want to think about them not being here. this weekend, they stopped by on their way from houston to pick up visas. i turned and leaned over the the back of the couch and grabbed her hand.
"i need a reality check. you leave in a week."
she smiled, groaned a little and set back her shoulders, "i know."
and that was all we said.
it's weird. we can joke about meeting them on the other side, surprising them as they step off the plane. we can celebrate provision and are moved to tears by how God's intervened in the past few months to prepare them for now.
but start whispering about them not being there wednesday nights anymore or how cheesecake bars just won't taste the same and we all get a little quiet.
let me be blunt: i think i'm learning true community.
because of the obedience and surrender of some of my closest friends, i'm experiencing what it's like to feel a brokenness for missing them and a joy for seeing God work through them.
in five days, we'll meet at the airport and pray them off.
two bags each, they'll board a plane and begin a life overseas. learning a language, becoming part of a community, loving the least of these in His name.
and we'll be here, noticing the hole ripped open by their absence. but like with any God-thing, the good far outweighs the hard. the hole ripped open will hurt but the seeds planted by their obedience and life-planning in jest have already taken root.
and these roots of true community? of family in His name? they last forever.