first of the lasts

Today is our last parent/teacher meeting at the school. It is one of the first "lasts" that I am beginning to experience here in my beloved Mexican community. I put on my beloved blue tie, shine my battered dress shoes, and spray on a little cologne, remembering how I live in a culture that values personal presentation very highly. I arrive at the school and then remember how I didn't shave this morning. Oops. Hopefully my students' parents will think the scruffy look is professional.

Such thoughts about my host society make me reflect on the past two years, and what I've learned about living cross-culturally (as we say in the Bible Division at John Brown University). In my different cultural communication classes at JBU, I remember learning about "style switching," which involves learning the different values and behaviors of your host culture over time, then imitating them. To say that I've done that like a pro would be a lie, but thank goodness there's a learning curve, as well as plenty of grace bestowed by my Mexican brothers and sisters.

Many of my friends tell me, "No te vayas!" which means, "Don't go!" How am I to respond to that? I know I must go - I am convinced of God's call on my life - but it feels as if the roots I have put down here are being torn back up in an unnatural break. Although I know I will probably be able to come back and visit, things will certainly not be the same. As someone recently commented to me, "Saying goodbye is a little taste of death."

The other day, I counted the number of places in which I have lived for the past 6 years (counting dorm rooms, houses, apartments, etc.). The tally? Nine. Number of states? Four (including the state of Chihuahua). This period of my life has been very transitory, full of change and adaptation. And now another change will happen. Who knows how long that stage will last before more change occurs?

The point? Change is life, life is change. But oh, how it produces in me a longing for my true home, where I will be eternally at peace, never shifting, always abiding. My soul's ache in this temporal reality is for an Anchor, fixed in that eternal Reality, where rest is forever and faith is no longer necessary, for we will know him face to face.