How can I say thanks?

What words would be sufficient to describe this moment? None.

I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always offering prayer with joy in my every prayer for you all, in view of your participation in the gospel from the first day until now. Philippians 1: 3-5

We're down to hours. Hours. After months of medical issues, months of not knowing when we would be going or where, months in limbo--we are down to hours. How faithful is our God? How big is He in the face of obstacles? He's certainly bigger and more faithful than I can put into mere words. And all of His faithfulness was celebrated last evening at a service held by our church. While there is no way to describe the service or adequately explain what it meant to us, I'm going to give it at least a try, because I think it highlights what God can do when given a chance.

Sometimes, it's easy to think of the church as a place. We often say that we live on the church grounds. We talk about the building as the church. But that isn't the church at all. The church is a community of people who choose to have faith in God. The church isn't Southern Baptist or Methodist or Catholic--the church is all who choose to believe in Christ and in His grace and mercy and compassion. It's easy to become frustrated with the church, because people sometimes act kind of awful. If you've been in church--or around human beings at all--you know that we can be pretty horrid, collectively. And it's easy to grumble and get caught up in that. But the church continues to be beloved by Christ. He gave His life for the church. And He commands us to love the church as well. Remember all that "love the brethren" business? Yep. It's the church being discussed in all those passages. And I don't think that's happenstance or coincidence, because I am pretty sure God knows how terrible we can be, given half a chance. So He demands that we love one another. After all, why would anyone want what we have if all they see is squabbling, fighting and back-stabbing? They wouldn't. And that's why a lot of people aren't buying what we're selling, because that IS all they see. But last night was one of those nights in which the church--as God intended it to--showed up and loved one another.

It's not easy to leave. It really isn't. I don't have mixed feelings, I don't have doubts or even worries (okay, maybe about actually getting the bags completely packed, but not about anything real), but I'm going to be sad to leave people. I'm going to have to say goodbye to my sister this morning. I don't want to do that. Tomorrow I will say goodbye to my beloved parents. Don't want to do that, either. And, of course, I will have to wave goodbye to my precious child. I can't even fathom that, yet. I don't even completely understand what that is even going to look like. My children, who absolutely adore one another, will have to be separated. It's horrible. I came in last night to find the girls sitting together, arms around one another. My children are close. They love one another deeply. Tomorrow is going to be rough. It's going to be hard. And there isn't any way to lessen that pain. But we'll get through it, and we'll all live the lives God has called us to live.

So what does that have to do with last night? Everything. You know what makes it easier to leave? I know that my church loves us. I know that they will take care of my parents. I know that they will love Sarah Beth. I know that her church in Arkansas will continue to wrap their arms around her as she returns. I know that her school, which has so many MKs attending, will continue to take care of our girl. None of what happens tomorrow can be done without those faithful prayers that will go out on our behalf. None of it. Like David's mighty men, those who showed up to fight, we have our own mighty men and women. You have carried us through dark times before with your prayers, and you will carry us through the dark days that are sure to come. You have faithfully lifted us up, and you will continue to do so. I know, because I have felt your faithfulness. I have felt your prayers. And I will feel them again. And there is great comfort in that.

And so, while 'thank you' feels and sounds so inadequate, it's all I have. Thank you. Thank you for loving us. Thank you for giving us a place to live and cars to drive. Thank you for writing recommendations for us. Thank you for loving our kids. Thank you for challenging us to be the people God intended us to be. Thank you for throwing us an Australian themed goodbye party and making us laugh. (And for the cake, which was DELICIOUS!!) Thank you for lining up to pray over us last night. Thank you for knowing how much I love Mary Engelbreit and Sharpie pens and bringing me gift bags full of them. Thank you for knowing me and thinking about me and remembering me. Thank you for holding up our arms when we can't possibly do it ourselves. Thank you for showing up and loving my family. We smile upon every remembrance of you. We really, really do.

It's time to do the final re-packing. Pray for us tomorrow. It will be a pretty hard day. But you know what? It'll be a joyful day, too. God has called, and we've been allowed to follow that call in a pretty awesome way. We love our life overseas. We love our friends and colleagues there. And we know that what God has for us there, while it may not be easy, will continue to be a front-row seat for His spectacular, awe-inspiring love for the nations. That's not a bad gig, is it? Wherever you are in the world, I pray you are thankful beyond words for the love that permeates your life, and that your bags are not going to have to be unpacked and repacked today. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye