1 Aug 2020
Stranded, separated indefinitely, waiting and hoping for a long-anticipated reunion.
Is the airport open today? The announcement weeks ago said that August 1 would be the day. We don't have internet now, and none of us have tried to leave yet on a regular commercial flight (everyone else left on repatriation flights), so we don't know. Will anyone return to relieve us? This month, next month? October? November?
Someday soon all the waiting will suddenly be over, and the reunion will be here. What seems infinite now on this side--peering into the darkness of the unknown and wondering how long--will become a finite prelude to celebration and togetherness.
As unanticipated challenges continue to appear, their weight feels cumulative, heavier and heavier. Will they ever end? But, put in perspective, next to all the suffering in this world--next to the difficult lives of so many of our neighbors--they are light troubles. Next to years and decades and lifetimes, these difficult months are momentary.
Next to eternity, our entire lives in this world of waiting and hoping and longing are momentary.
In the end, the question is not will this ever end or when will it end, but what will these difficult moments achieve? What will we allow God to do in us and through us as we face challenges during our short lives in this world?
"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."
2 Corinthians 4:16-18
"He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us again. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many."
2 Corinthians 1:10-11