GraceFox

The sun beamed into Diane’s kitchen this morning, its smile promising balmy weather for our train ride to Poland later in the day. We were washing breakfast dishes when Karla, one of our Canadian IM partners, showed up for coffee. Ah – sweet fellowship with this dear woman who has spent the majority of her life ministering in Europe. She drove us to the train station, and our speaking tour began.

Diane, Karla, and myself at Kosice, Slovakia train station. Poland – here we come!

Nearly six hours passed as we trained our way through Slovakia and into Poland. Rolling hills, plowed fields, cathedral steeples, and red-roofed homes dotted the countryside. I felt like I was a part of the set for “The Sound of Music.” Julie Andrews and the von Trapp family singers could have waltzed over a hill and I wouldn’t have been surprised.

This trip was a God-given gift. I needed this time to rest and reflect about the circumstances surrounding my being here while my family’s in Canada planning my father’s funeral. The quiet enabled me to write something to Dad’s honor that my husband can read at the service.

Iwona, a Polish IM coworker, was waiting for us when our train arrived in Cracow. What a sweetheart. She flagged a taxi, took us to a hostel where we’d stay for the next two nights, and then unpacked the supper she’d prepared for us – Polish goulash and bread. “I must care for the strangers in our land,” she said. “God says so.” Then we walked about eight city blocks to the church building where women were busy preparing for tomorrow’s conference. They’d expected about 60 women to attend, but 110 have registered! I believe God is up to something big. There’s a huge sacrifice involved in this trip, and I believe with my whole heart that God will honor it with a wonderful eternal harvest.

Another IM coworker, Carol, joined Diane, Iwona, and me for a short walk to a favorite dessert restaurant. “You must try something here,” said Iwona. “There are many wonderful treats from which to choose.” She was right. How these European women can stay thin and trim is beyond me. Vanilla and strawberry ice cream doused topped with fresh strawberries and sauce, and smothered in real whipped cream – how’s that for bedtime snack?

By the time Diane and I walked to the hostel, we were very ready for bed. We prayed for the women who will come to the conference tomorrow and for my family and their needs, and then fell asleep.

I’m so glad I’m a part of the family of God…..remember that Gaither goldie? Those lyrics describe how I feel right now. Yesterday afternoon my friend and fellow International Messenger, Diane, spent more than four hours riding a train from Slovakia to Hungary where she met me at the Budapest station. She threw her arms around me and gave me a huge hug. “It’s been a bad day,” she said, having received the news already about my dad’s death. Her eyes brimmed with tears. This woman, responsible for IM missionary care, is a God-given gift to me for such a time as this.

We had enough time to eat supper at Burger King before boarding the train for the ride back to Kosice, Slovakia. “Tell me about your dad,” she said. “What was he like before he got sick?” Bless her heart for listening as I told of Dad’s strong work ethic, of his many surgeries, of his attitude of gratitude no matter what. Bless her for listening with empathy, her eyes filling with tears when my voice cracked and chin quivered. I’m so glad I’m a part of the family of God and for the gift of caring sisters.

Thanks to a wonderful overseas phone plan, I was able to contact family members after we arrived at Diane’s home. It was good to speak with my mother and to hear of the funeral plans being made so far away. Oh, I wish I could be part of that, but it’s not to be. It was after 1 a.m. when I finally fell into bed, exhausted and wondering how I could get through the next 10 days.

When I woke this morning, I felt like I’d been run over by a train – a combination of lack of sleep, jet lag, and emotional overload, I think. So I gave myself permission to stay in bed and rest until 8:30. When I finally got up, I discovered gifts from my Christian family – emails that had come during the night. Words of encouragement, sympathy e-cards, prayers written on my behalf. Each one ministered to me in a unique way, and the tears began to flow. I feel like I’m on an emotional journey that I don’t want to take, but one that, prayerfully, will result in God’s purposes being accomplished.

Several weeks ago, Diane and I decided to leave this day as a day of rest. There was no way of knowing how much this would be needed. Another divinely-arranged detail. Tomorrow we’ll catch a train and travel to Cracow, Poland. And then the real work begins. Saturday’s conference had originally expected 60 women, but so far 110 have registered. As I think about doing three sessions with these precious women, I can only think of one thing: “In my weakness He is strong.”

Budapest, here I come! The day began when I rolled out of bed at 4:00 a.m. and headed for the Vancouver airport an hour later. My first flight was 4 ½ hours to Toronto, and after a mere 90-minute wait there, I boarded the next flight. This one took eight hours to reach Vienna.

The sun began to rise as we reached Ireland. It was an amazing sight – the entire horizon looked like it was on fire. By far the most breath-taking sunrise I’ve ever seen.

When I boarded in Toronto, there was no room for carry-on bags in the overhead compartments. The flight attendant took my bag, said she’d check it into the cargo hold, and I could pick it up in Budapest with my other suitcases. I felt a little uneasy about it, and for good reason. It didn’t show up in Budapest. My digital camera, my notes for all my speaking sessions, my toiletries…..gone. So, I filed a lost luggage claim at the Budapest airport, whispered a prayer for the bag’s safe return, and met the person who’d come to pick me up and take me to the SHARE conference.

On the way, I saw a park filled with statues of Communist leaders. These statues were salvaged from around Budapest after the wall fell in the late 80s. Now people pay to walk through the park and see them. I would have taken a picture for you, but the camera was in the lost bag. Sigh.

You haven’t lived until you’re the passenger in a car flying down a four-lane highway at 80-85 mph as the driver eats a hamburger. Combine that experience with jetlag, and you’ve got the makings for a few grey hairs.

I woke this morning with a thankful heart that my missing suitcase arrived last night! Now I have the notes for this morning’s session on praying Scripture.

When I went to the dining room for breakfast, the president of SHARE and his wife invited me to sit at their table. In the middle of breakfast, the conference organizer’s husband walked up to me with his cell phone in his hand. “It’s your husband,” he said, and handed me the phone.

I knew immediately what this meant. I could scarcely here Gene above the din in the dining room, but I caught him say, “Your dad passed away thirty minutes ago.” It wasn’t unexpected, but the news still carried a blow. I was so thankful that this couple had asked me to sit with them – they immediately offered their support and prayers, and she shed a few tears with me. Within the next hour, the word began to spread about my dad’s passing and people began offering their condolences. I was given the option of not teaching my workshop, but the only other choice would be sitting alone somewhere and feeling low. So, I chose to teach and it turned out okay. At the end, one man said that he wanted to pray for me, and that’s when the tears started to flow again.

I’m so thankful for the time I was able to spend with my dad two weeks ago, when he was still lucid. I was able to tell him that I love him, and he answered, “I love you, too.” I know he’s in heaven – at one point he said that he could see Jesus and it was beautiful “there.” I believe he’s walking and dancing in the Savior’s presence, his body whole again after being paralyzed by strokes eight years ago.

And now – I must process the fact that I’m here and my family is there during this time of grief. I’m on a journey for which I have no compass but the Lord to guide me one step at a time. My loss is great, my pain very real. I want to embrace my mom and other family members but can’t. “This doesn’t feel fair, God. You could have taken him while I was home so I could be a part of what’s happening there now. Why did You wait until two days after I left?”

This afternoon I’ll travel by train to Slovakia with an IM friend, Diane. Her specialty is missionary care. That’s good timing.

This conference has about 400 people from nearly 20 countries. The emphasis is on equipping parents to educate their children overseas. The program is like an oasis for these folks as they rekindle friendships with the friends they see only once a year. Blessings on them!

As I sat in the back of the morning’s chapel service, my heart was overwhelmed by the commitment to missions demonstrated here. Some of these folks have been on the mission field for a couple of decades, others for just a few years. All of them know what it means to sacrifice time with their parents and family back home. All of them know what it means to sacrifice financially. My heart just wants to bless them for doing what they do, and I want to help equip them more or just provide a listening ear and sympathetic shoulder.