In early 2016, I stood with my husband and daughter at the airport in Blantyre, Malawi. We were waiting for our luggage at the carousel. We had just landed after a long trip from the USA. It was hot. Sweat poured from my husband’s forehead as he lifted our bags- all 13 – one by one onto the luggage carts. Once we passed through customs, we walked toward the exit down the sloping surface. I knew we were headed for complications as the cart picked up speed, and we struggled to slow it down. It didn’t take much. A small bump on the walkway sent the suitcases cascading the concrete pavement in front of us.
This was my welcome to Blantyre. I didn’t feel very welcome at that moment.
Waiting at the airport is part of the job description
We are church planters. And the “job description” (waiting for our luggage is part of it) calls us to move once we have established a church and adequately prepared the pastor to take the reins from us. I have spent many hours waiting for our luggage in my lifetime.
By nature, I don’t feel the need to collect things. God prepared me long before I knew I would become a church planter. Moving to Blantyre required me to pare down my belongings. As with many previous moves, this meant reducing my possessions to an odd mix of suitcases, foot lockers, and a duffle bag or two. Mixed among the essentials—extra contact lenses, four plastic plates, a small cutlery set, and shoes—was a jumble of both necessary and sentimental items: family photos, keepsakes from countries where we had served, and important documents like our marriage license, diplomas, degrees, and our youngest daughter’s adoption decree.Tears rolled down my cheeks as I unpacked all these essential and non-essential things. The familiar sting of having to leave one place and start over again pricked my heart.
For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come.
Hebrews 13:14 ESV
Where are we going?
As we go through life, it’s easy to get distracted by our surroundings. We often feel the need to conform to the societal “norms” we strive to achieve. There’s nothing wrong with finding comfort in a place, and there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way if that place doesn’t lead you to settle for less than God’s plan for you.
What are we looking for? Where are we going? We invest a lot of effort in settling into life. We strive to make ourselves as comfortable as possible. But, could we have forgotten that this life is not the end of it all?
I lived in Blantyre, Malawi, for a short time. The day came when God called our family to another city. I had to face the uncomfortable process of lifting the stakes of my “tent” and moving on once again. I have consistently been waiting for our luggage all these years.
Since our move from Blantyre, we have relocated twice. It has been a challenging season of letting many things go. One lesson I’ve learned in waiting for our luggage is that God never asks us to release something without filling our hands and hearts with something new.
Even with the knowledge that God will always fill us when we let go, there is no city on earth where I will finally rest like I will when I enter that Heavenly City and truly put down my roots.
Until then, I will keep looking ahead and waiting for our luggage. There’s still work to be done because we’re not home yet.
Arise and depart, for, this, is not the place of rest.
Micah 2:10 ESV
