I love living in Nicaragua--I really do! The six years that we have lived there have been full of rich blessings, wonderful relationships, important traditions and memorable experiences. I can honestly say moving there is one of the best decisions we have ever made, and I am already counting down the days until we travel back (12!). But each summer when we visit the US, there is a deep yearning in my heart to once again be a part of the other places and communities that we also call home. When we are absorbed in our normal Nicaragua routine, I start to forget about what is going on in these far-off places but when we are here visiting, I become very aware of what we are missing out on.
As I sat in the pew of our Michigan church home last Sunday, tears came to my eyes. Not because the service was particularly moving, but because sitting there, I remembered that these services full of people and worship that we love so much happen every Sunday, even when we are not there! This church used to be such a huge part of our lives, and now we only get to be there one or two Sundays a year.
This summer we were able to participate in two Ippel family birthday celebrations (June AND July) and sing through the whole Ippel birthday song rendition--all 5 verses!--twice. It feels so normal to be a part of these celebrations, but when I think about everyone but us gathering in August, Sept, October, November… I know we are missing out on this important family tradition.
We have 5 nieces and nephews that have been born since we moved to Nicaragua and they are all adorable and learning to walk and talk and we miss it all! We so enjoy the brief time we spend with them each year, but we leave knowing they might not even remember us the next time we see them.
Our summers as missionaries consist of being plopped down in then ripped out of places and relationships. We excitedly say hi and then sadly say goodbye in the blink of an eye. We know that we are so loved, which makes these visits important and uplifting, but hard at the same time. Each goodbye is a reminder that we no longer share in normal life--birthday parties, or church services, or cute kid milestones-- with our US friends and family and these are the things we miss.
The crazy thing is that while we are here in the US I’m thinking about all the things that are going on back in Nicaragua without us--my AMOS and House of Hope groups continue to meet, our friends are gathering for dinner and worship every Saturday night, new people are arriving--and I don’t want to miss out on that either. Yes, I struggle with a severe case of FOMO (“Fear Of Missing Out”), but I do think that living the missionary life intensifies this blight. We have so many families and so many homes, and I want to be a part of them all! We know this internal battle won’t be resolved in this life (unless science one day allows us to clone ourselves so we can live everywhere at once!) --and that is okay. To have such amazing communities in multiple places is a gift, and we are so thankful.
As I sat in the pew of our Michigan church home last Sunday, tears came to my eyes. Not because the service was particularly moving, but because sitting there, I remembered that these services full of people and worship that we love so much happen every Sunday, even when we are not there! This church used to be such a huge part of our lives, and now we only get to be there one or two Sundays a year.
This summer we were able to participate in two Ippel family birthday celebrations (June AND July) and sing through the whole Ippel birthday song rendition--all 5 verses!--twice. It feels so normal to be a part of these celebrations, but when I think about everyone but us gathering in August, Sept, October, November… I know we are missing out on this important family tradition.
We have 5 nieces and nephews that have been born since we moved to Nicaragua and they are all adorable and learning to walk and talk and we miss it all! We so enjoy the brief time we spend with them each year, but we leave knowing they might not even remember us the next time we see them.
Our summers as missionaries consist of being plopped down in then ripped out of places and relationships. We excitedly say hi and then sadly say goodbye in the blink of an eye. We know that we are so loved, which makes these visits important and uplifting, but hard at the same time. Each goodbye is a reminder that we no longer share in normal life--birthday parties, or church services, or cute kid milestones-- with our US friends and family and these are the things we miss.
The crazy thing is that while we are here in the US I’m thinking about all the things that are going on back in Nicaragua without us--my AMOS and House of Hope groups continue to meet, our friends are gathering for dinner and worship every Saturday night, new people are arriving--and I don’t want to miss out on that either. Yes, I struggle with a severe case of FOMO (“Fear Of Missing Out”), but I do think that living the missionary life intensifies this blight. We have so many families and so many homes, and I want to be a part of them all! We know this internal battle won’t be resolved in this life (unless science one day allows us to clone ourselves so we can live everywhere at once!) --and that is okay. To have such amazing communities in multiple places is a gift, and we are so thankful.
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| Worlds collide: Nicaraguan flag in NYC |
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