So, as you may have read, my last blog was all about my life changing trip to the Dominican Republic. It was simply amazing, and I mean beautifully simple in every sense. A couple of weeks ago it was Erik's turn. He would be leaving on a two week mission trip to the slums of Nairobi, Kenya. This was a trip we weren't even sure he would be able to make. He had committed to going in January and we began fund raising immediately. However, shortly thereafter we were blessed with his internship at church. This, however, also meant fund raising our income. As such, we mutually agreed to put Africa on hold and focus our efforts on monthly income in order to support those inconvenient habits of meals and electricity to which we had grown accustom. We were blessed yet again when friends of ours informed Erik they would be funding almost his entire trip as they did not want this to be one more thing for him to worry about in our time of transition. Feeling overwhelmed with gratitude and humility we accepted their generous gift and began to prepare, with excitement, for his adventure.
Prior to departure, I must say I was his biggest champion. I encouraged him to go, convinced him his work would be fine without him for 3 weeks, convinced him we would be fine without him for 2 weeks, and I was excited to share with family and friends about his upcoming trip. And then Tuesday, July 5 arrived and suddenly it was time to drop him off at the airport. I knew I would miss him and I think I even knew it would be the hardest separation we had ever endured, but I was doing okay. I didn't cry at the airport despite comforting my daughters through a very tearful goodbye. He hugged me, kissed me and said he would call me from the plane via Skype at 8:30 that night. I held it together until the drive home and then I let it out, crying quietly so my girls wouldn't notice. "Just make it until 8:30," I told myself, then I would hear his voice again.
July 5, as some of you may recall, was the night of the big haboob. No - for those of you non-Arizonans, haboob is not a mistype. A haboob is a huge dust storm that produces a fast moving wall of dust hundreds of feet high. I read on the British Airways website that Erik's flight was actually the very last flight to leave Sky Harbor airport before they grounded all air traffic in and out of Phoenix. Okay, that's enough to make a wife become a little concerned. But, I knew he was most likely fine and after all, he was going to call and say goodnight at 8:30. 8:30 came and went, 9, 9:30, 10...he wasn't going to call. That's okay, I thought. I knew he landed at 5 am our time, would find some WiFi in London, their first stop, and give us a call. 5 am came and went, 6, 7, 8...I held out until 11:30 my time, 7:30 London time before I actually tried calling him, even knowing how expensive it would be if he could answer. I shouldn't have worried about the cost, he never answered. Agony. It may sound dramatic to you, but that is the best word I can think of to describe what I was feeling. Finally, at 12:30 my time, 7 hours after he landed, he called with a friend's phone. He was happy and fine, on his way to Buckingham Palace as a matter of fact. WHAT? I'm worried you're lying in a London ditch unable to reach me and you're on your way to tea with the Queen? I hung up relieved he was okay, angry he had put me through that. This was the beginning of the uglies. What are the uglies? The emotions I didn't want to admit to everyone else I was having while my husband was selflessly serving in the largest slums in the world: anger, jealousy, hurt, depression,loneliness. Shameful? Yes. Was I really feeling these things, really? Truth? Yes.
Thankfully, rather than being able to suppress or ignore them, God made me deal with these emotions. It ended up being a very healing process, albeit very painful. Without being alone, these emotions might not have surfaced and I could have avoided some necessary, serious self examination. In short, without Erik leaving, I would never have had to lean further into God than I ever had before and would never have known the joy of falling further into the Savior's mighty grasp. Loneliness became the blessing that allowed me to have my own life changing experience right here at home.
After a few nights of crying myself to sleep, staring at the computer waiting to hear anything from him and snapping at my beautiful girls, I realized I was letting satan win. I would look at pictures of Erik posted on Facebook and feel relieved to see his smiling face and feel a pain so deep it would take my breath away. Weren’t we supposed to be doing this life together? How could the man I love and gave my heart to, my life to, have this life changing experience, in Africa no less, without me by his side? We were supposed to do this together. It’s an experience we would never share: a first trip to Africa. I was overwhelmed with sadness, and if I’m honest, jealousy.
But, then I understood. Yes, I am supposed to love my husband, and I do. Yes, I am supposed to respect him, and I do, immensely. And yes, I pledged to spend this life on earth with him, and I want to do just that. But, give my life to him? Give my soul to him? Put him in charge of my joy? Nope,I’m sorry, I need to ask for those back. They belong to another man. You see, Erik can’t bring me complete joy and peace no matter the circumstances, but He can. Further, it is so unfair of me to expect my husband to do any of those things. I have loved my husband more than Him, and that’s not fair to either of us. So I'm taking the burden off my amazing husband and giving control of my joy, my life, back to the one person to whom they belong, Jesus Christ.
God gave Erik this time in Africa, and not me. And for awhile that made me mad. But then I realized, He gave me two weeks with my girls. He gave me moments that are only mine. Memories that I won’t have in common with my husband, but will forever change me and be imprinted on my heart. God didn't need to send me to Africa, or the Dominican for that matter, to have a life changing experience. Erik will never look at life the same after being in Kenya for two weeks. But, here’s the thing: I will never look at life the same after being here for two weeks. The life change I needed was right here all along, in my home, in my heart.
So, in the end, I could not be more proud of my husband or more thankful that he made this trip. I also could not be more thankful for my time here, and the lessons I learned. Someday, Erik and I may got to Africa together, but for now, I'm okay with my mission field being right outside my office door. In fact, I need to go as they're calling me to come play.
