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This lesson on compost has become a symbol for our family. We will soon uproot to be planted in new soil. Next year I won’t be in this garden, harvesting crisp cucumbers, tying up tomatoes or snipping bouquets of lapis blue salvia and golden coreopsis. Next year, our family will live in Nigeria, West Africa, serving as Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) country co-representatives.
Though sadness still circles like bees searching for the zucchini plant’s yellow blossoms, saying goodbye has slowly become easier. When the e-mail from MCC arrived last September, asking us to consider this assignment, my first reaction was, “You’re kidding! Not us! Not now! We’re just getting settled!”
Mark and I served with MCC from 1997 through 2000 with two nonprofit Nigerian organizations. At our term’s end, our country representatives told us that MCC would welcome us back for other assignments. We politely nodded and said yes, we'd be open to serving again WAAAAY in the future. But with 18-month Valerie in tow, we were eager to return to life in Syracuse, N.Y., our home since 1990.
Readjusting took time. We bought and fixed up an old house. Greg joined our family. We dug into our diverse urban neighborhood, got involved at church, planted vegetables and flowers, renewed relationships, made new friends.
Every so often we’d toss out glib statements about wanting to serve abroad again, “someday.” And when a former Nigerian MCC colleague visited last March and said to me, “We want you back in Nigeria.” I flippantly replied, “If God calls us back, we’ll go.” Then I forgot all about it—until the e-mail arrived. MCC’s invitation forced us to examine our good intentions, our faith and our stated values as well as how we recognize and hear God’s Spirit in our lives. What exactly was God saying to us with this invitation?
By late fall we asked, “Why not us? Why not now?” We grappled with questions that could not be cleanly answered. Did we have the skills and abilities for this assignment? Both in our 40’s, Mark and I wondered what this meant for financial security. And most of all, what about our children who would be involuntary missionaries? How could God mean for us to take them to a place of uncertainly and tumultuous change?
We began to understand while risk is involved in moving to a developing country, there are also dangers in not doing so. Getting mired in the good things of a stable, middle class existence, and believing in the illusion we can plan and control our lives carries some dangers. And what are the consequences of ignoring God’s invitation?
If we said yes, I began to believe our children might develop a deeper faith, a global perspective, a willingness to examine and debunk consumerism, and a heart for service. Watching their parents step out in faith imparts a message about our values to our kids. And I remembered children are entrusted to us as gifts, not possessions.
We didn’t receive a direct e-mail from God which allowed us to make our decision with total certainty and peace. But we finally chose to believe that God was behind this calling from an organization we trust; and that the Spirit was speaking to our desire to follow God wherever that led.
By midwinter, when snow covered slumbering daffodils and daisies, we accepted MCC’s invitation. I don’t think God is worried about my doubts—going forth in faith doesn’t require an absence of doubt. I discovered this quote, author unknown, in my journal from our first time in Nigeria: “I stand on the periphery of my life. I surrender what I thought my life would be like, so that something new can be born.”
As each day of our leaving draws nearer, I treasure my present moments. This year, the lavender seems more fragrant, the basil more pungent, the lettuce sweeter and more tender. I do my best to surrender to the fact that both the garden and I are part of God’s mysterious, creative and sometimes surprising cycle of life. And now I can now almost unequivocally respond, “Yes, us. Yes, now.”
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