It’s Sunday morning, and Joel and I are preparing to share the amazing ways we are witnessing God moving in our lives and in the lives of those we serve in East Africa. Renee and Ian masterfully set up the presentation table in the back that offers information about Africa Inland Mission (AIM), AIM AIR, and the Turkana ANA ladies that I teach Monday morning devotions to. They know the drill; they’ve done it no less than 20 times. Details in place, we steady our hearts and prepare for the onslaught of emotions.
Reconnecting with the church and those we love is a cause for excitement and anticipation. Old friends smile from the seats, and new friends lean forward. We are joined in the belief that God truly is alive and active in our world. It’s stories of release from darkness, growing in faith and hope, of taking the gospel to distant locations to the unreached. Joy fills our hearts as we remember and share what God has done. Tears fill our eyes as we share about the tragedies that God works through. As we look at the PowerPoint pictures coming up on the screen, we are reminded of those we love that are a continent away. For a moment we’re stuck between two continents, two worlds. Our deep love is for both.
All the ministry opportunities are presented and upcoming ways to connect are available. ‘Oh! That one sounds fun!’ we whisper, but then we remember – we’re leaving next week to hit the road. Brief sadness comes in, a sense of not belonging. We are reminded that our heart can’t settle here, this is not our home.
There is comfort in being in the body of Christ that is bigger than any individual building, program, or small group. Our home is in the body of Christ, which is in this church, the one next week, and in the heart of each believer we encounter in whatever continent we’re on.
This isn’t our home, it was never intended to be. We’re just passing through…