In the last 24 hours, we have said two painful goodbyes…
The first goodbye was to little Micah. He was in our home and a part of our family for only eight days. We knew when he came to us that he was dying, and we knew that it was good for him to go to Jesus. But it was still painful.
He entered our home via ambulance on Friday, May 22nd and was embraced by all. During the time he was in our home he was never alone. We took shifts overnight, knowing that his time was short and not wanting him to be alone. He was held and rocked, almost constantly. And he heard the words, “We love you!” hundreds of times.
So frequently during those days we thought he was leaving us, but each time he would rally and surge back. However, on Friday we all noticed a pronounced decline. He became less responsive and his breathing would stop for 10 to 15 seconds, only to restart again. Twice during his final days we all gathered around, told him we loved him, played worship music and said goodbye, the last time being Saturday afternoon. Then, around 5:00 pm, he took his final breath and slipped from our arms into Jesus’.
That was such a bitter-sweet moment. On the one hand, we were so tired of seeing him struggling that we wanted to see him go. I kept pleading with him to let go and go to Jesus. At the same time, I grieved that he had left us. We all wept and hugged and talked about our love for him.
Here in Guatemala, the funeral happens quickly. So within an hour Jeremiah, Joel, Dale and myself were digging the grave in the cemetery at the end of our street. We worked hard in order to finish by sunset. The casket was brought to our home and Wanda and the others prepared his body and placed him inside. He remained in our home overnight.
The memorial service was yesterday (Sunday) afternoon, and was well attended by staff and friends. Feliz, from Solola, came down, along with family and friends. She had been a mother to Micah before we ever met him, visiting him in the hospital regularly and praying for him.
The service was simple and held in our courtyard. Afterward, we had a procession down to the cemetery, where we prayed, sang and filled in the grave. As I type this, the workers are making his gravestone.
At this moment Micah is whole, healed and basking in the presence of Jesus. Of that, I have no doubt. And I rejoice for him. But the goodbye is hard and painful. Yet, this is our calling. And in the midst of the pain, I feel God smile.
Yesterday, during the service before I went up to speak, I was standing to the side with Wanda. I had tears in my eyes and was struggling to sing, but I put my arm around her shoulder, pulled her close and whispered in her ear…
“Thank you for being willing to live this life!”
Any other woman would have left me years ago. They would have left behind the pain that this life and ministry brings. They would have left behind the long hours and broken heart. And they certainly would have left behind this stubborn, driven and thick-headed excuse for a man. But she is still here beside me, embracing it all.
After it was all over, my son, Jeremiah, approached me. He struggle the most with our decision to accept Micah into our home, not because he wouldn’t love him, but because he would. When both Esperanza and Tanya died, Jeremiah struggle the most because he loves deeply and with abandon. So he was not thrilled when we decided to bring in another dying child. But his words to me were the most healing that I have heard through this process. He hugged my and said, “Thanks for being willing to say yes. It bothers me to think that he could have died without a family.”
And so, it is worth it, and that was our first goodbye.
Our second goodbye was this morning as we dropped our daughter Carissa off at the airport. My little girl is moving to Uganda where she will be opening a home for girls with special needs.
How do I feel about that? Good question.
I feel incredibly proud…and very scared.
I feel an overwhelming excitement…and a deep sense of sadness.
I feel confident of her future…and timid about her journey and the price she will have to pay.
When each of our children were born or adopted, we prayed and dedicated them to the Lord. And each time we asked God to raise them up as a man or woman of God that would love Jesus, love the world and would follow Him wherever He may lead. He has answered that prayer in spades with Carissa, and I could not be more proud of her.
But, just between you and me, sometimes obedience sucks. You know what I mean? (I know. That is a horrible thing for a man of God to say. I will expect your correcting e-mails.) Even though we know obeying God is what is right and best in the long run, it sure is painful in the present sometimes.
Today, as I watched her carrying her luggage through the crowds into the terminal, I stood on tiptoes to catch one more glimpse of her before she was gone. In my mind, she was a toddler taking her first steps again, but this time she wasn’t going to stop and come back. She confidently stepped through the doors without looking back. (I didn’t expect or want her to. That is who she is and how she lives.) And, at that moment, my heart both swelled in pride and broke in two.
She is off to change Uganda. And she will. The power of Jesus Christ is strong in her, and He will use her in mighty ways. And we are behind her, 200%. But this dad has a lump in his throat that just won’t go away.
One day, in the place where Micah runs and plays today, there will be no more goodbyes. There will only be hellos. I keep reminding myself that our family will be together in the presence of Jesus…forever. But in order to bring as many people with us as possible, we have to say a lot of goodbyes in this life. And it will all be worth it…one day.
But for now:
Goodbye, Micah. You are loved and missed deeply. You are and will always be our son and brother. Have fun and we will see you soon!
Goodbye, Carissa. We are proud of you, excited for you and miss you horribly already. Go change the world. And, remember, we love you, are praying for you and will be behind you all the way. Go get ‘em!
Daryl, Wanda and the Crew
(By the way, if you wish to support Carissa’s new branch of Hope for Home in Uganda you can do so through our US office. Just visit http://www.hopeforhome.org/Donate.html to see how.)
