Deja Vu All Over Again

'...and everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.' Matthew 19:29-30 When Karen and I were preparing to come to Morningstar, this was one of the scriptures the Lord comforted me with. Unlike so many of our friends growing up, Karen and I had little interest in leaving town for good. We liked to travel, but we knew that Huntsville was home. There was no reason to leave except the call of God on our hearts, drawing us to a new chapter in our relationship with Him. The transition was very painful and lonely, especially for Karen who had only the company of a toddler in the beginning while I was away at class or running errands. The Lord did eventually bring some relationships into our lives that have been real blessings to us, and life did indeed go on. My only fear was reopening the wounds of missed loved one over the holidays. We had a wonderful trip home for about 10 days, and then brought some friends and family back up for the New Year's Conference. (Don't ask me how the conference was...I was taking care of a sick baby most of the time). It was wonderful having our apartment full of people we have known and loved for many years, and helped to bridge the experiences of our old and new lives. But then, as the past three years of New Year's conferences have gone, it all ended and our friends have left to return to their homes and lives apart from us. We sent them on their way this morning, and came back to the reality of our new life away from all that is familiar. I knew going into the holidays that it would be this way, but that doesn’t make it any easier to experience. So as this wound is reopened, I take comfort in the Lord's promise to us again. Who can perceive the value of a one hundred fold reward from the Lord, AND eternal life, for what we have left behind?

Maybe now I can relate just a little to how Abraham felt when God called him to leave his family, and go live in the wilderness in tents awaiting the promise of a land flowing with milk and honey. I suppose Abraham didn't have the luxuries of high-speed internet and Skype, and those tents were probably a lot more drafty than our apartment is this winter. But the pain of missed loved ones, and the longing for what is familiar has not changed over the years. As Rick Joyner always says, we are buying low and selling high.

PS. It occurred to me I should give credit to the title of this entry. It is taken from a Yogi Berra quote. He's a pretty funny, yet very profound person to quote. Google him sometime.