Slightly before anyone’s phone alarm buzzed, my Mama brain woke me up. I checked the time on my phone, pleased that my subconscious worked for me again. I don’t know how it works, but sometimes my internal timer keeps track as well or better than any physical clock.
It was about 2:20AM, and my son needed to get in the shower. He had to be at church by 3AM. He promptly got up and pulled the plug to his digital timekeeper. He showered and got his stuff together as my husband loaded his bags out on our dimly lit driveway. I stood close to the house to hug my boy, much bigger than I, and waved a silent farewell.
As they drove away, I got back in bed only to open my app, following his progress to church, then on to the airport, and beyond. When my husband returned to join me in bed, a single thought illuminated my mind:
So this is how it feels.
I thought back to my younger years as a TCK, hopping on and off planes, trains, and all manner of commercial transportation. Traveling on my own, far and wide, in the 90s and early 2000s, I hardly thought of what my parents may have felt. Departures, both domestic and international, made up the fabric of our lives for as long as I can remember. Saying goodbyes with quick hugs and carry-ons was the norm. Whether a call was made immediately upon arrival or not, made no difference. It wasn’t that no one cared, it was about finding a phone and calling card or internet café. I can only think of one time someone was upset with me for not calling right away upon arrival. My sister and I traveled by car from my grandparent’s home to my brother’s home several states away. Grandpa was furious when my sister and I finally called, furious that we let him worry beyond the time we were expected to have arrived. It surprised me, but I apologized. His nerves reminded me how easy it is to grow anxious when safety means one thing: staying home.
I’m staying home this time.
Home is good. Home is comfortable. Home means family. But we just sent our baby off for ten days, to a place neither of us has been. We were not familiar with anything about the country in which he’d be serving. I thought of my parents, then my fluttering heart latched onto learned Scripture:
“Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee”
I had memorized this verse out of the King James Version long ago, and the night I found myself growing anxious was the night I decided to sink into God’s promises. It says perfect peace, not partial or manmade peace. My mind could either entertain the wildest, scariest scenarios, or it could entertain Truth. Had my parents done the same decades ago? I decided I’d ask them, now that this feeling had crept up, arresting my belief system, targeting my soul.
Thank you, Jesus, for letting me feel what it’s like on both sides. I know what it’s like to be the one who goes. I now know what it’s like to be the one who stays. I haven’t traveled outside the US in more than a decade. That’s insanely long in a TCK’s world! But here we are, sending our son to go live the adventure and expand his worldview. More than anything, I’m grateful for a wide-awake Savior who knows precisely when to awaken a Mama’s heart and mind to lean into His promises for each new day.
Faith grew up an MK in Hong Kong, then moved into mainland China to teach ESL the summer she turned 19. She spoke Cantonese and Mandarin fluently. She returned to the US to complete college and eventually married into the USAF. She has published a memoir of her experiences and shares devotionals to women’s ministries.
Book: Unraveled: A Memoir
Find her on Instagram.
