Loss at Christmas
Leaving the mission field (for now anyway!) was both the hardest and the easiest thing I have ever done. I’ve been told by more than one person that it was really brave of me to leave. On the one hand, yes, I guess it did take a lot of courage to admit that things weren’t right and I needed to leave, and to know that leaving meant walking away from 9 years of my life which won’t really transfer as a credit to the life I now need to start from scratch. Realizing that I’m pretty much back to square one—needing my first car, my first apartment, my first professional job…at my age. Instead of being established and having my life ‘together,’ I’m a boomaranger, unemployed, and with very little cushion to make this transition easier.
On the other hand, when you have been as deeply hurt and realized so fully that an environment is toxic for you as I have, you are ready to break away at any price. Realizing that you do have options, potential, value, and choices is a powerful thing. That you are not stuck in this situation because it is your only hope, but that you CAN walk away and it’s not wrong or desertion or failure, but the next step in your life which is once again spread gloriously ahead of you and full of potential. Most of the things and comforts you collected are replaceable in the light of getting your freedom back.
As I’ve been slowly processing the tide of growing realization of the full extent of my losses over the last few weeks, there are moments when it’s tempting to let myself drown in a full blown pity party about how hard it all is. How unfair. How frustrating. How final. And then I started thinking about that first Christmas.
When my Savior stepped down from the perfection of heaven and willingly became a part of the twisted, broken wreck of His creation, He lost things that my finite mind can not comprehend. He was on His way to the glory of the resurrection, but first there was 33 years of gritty living to endure. He could have chosen to abandon the horrible sacrifice of the plan made before the foundation of the world, but He stayed the course, learning obedience to the point of death, even the death of the cross. If all this can help me appreciate just a tiny bit better the value and wonder of my salvation, then it is an experience worth struggling through.
I remember so clearly a few years ago sitting in the little church in the bush reading the story of Abraham and Issac, and hearing God whisper to me, "Do you love me enough to give up your dog?" And though that whole situation broke my heart and left me sobbing into the dark for over a month, I realized at that instant than the answer was yes. Ten and a half years ago I thought I knew the cost of going overseas with a blank check as it were--an understanding that I was there until the Lord said otherwise. I knew some of what I was losing, and I think if I had known the whole bill I wouldn't have had the courage to get on that plane and go. Ten and a half years ago the answer was yes, I love you enough to give up the life I might have had. And now, now that I have so little to show for my life in an earthly sense, I hear again that voice asking if I trust Him and love Him enough to set out on this new adventure. And yet again, the answer to my Savior who was born in a stable, rejected by His own, and is now exalted at the right hand of the Father for His obedience is yes. Yes, I love you enough to start over again, to have nothing so that You can build for me, and to follow you into this new season of my life where almost the only thing I know for sure is that I believe God is who He says He is, and I still love Him.
'Cause after everything I've had
And after everything I've lost
Lord, I know this much is true
I'm still drawn to You!
After everything's been said
After everything love costs
Lord, I know this much is true
I'm still drawn to You.~ Audry Assad
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